Seasons of Change

We are in a season of hope and promise here at DePaul. We recently experienced the first day of spring, a time which brings us the hope of renewed life and beauty after a sometimes-desolate winter. Students have come to the end of the quarter and are ready to enjoy spring break. We have a new basketball coach, and we are excited by the vision of a team that can unite and energize our whole community. We are in the season of Lent, a time in which Christians prepare themselves for change and refocus on what is important in preparation for Easter. We are in the month of Ramadan, where Muslims similarly embrace a period of intense spiritual practices in commemoration and gratitude for the gift of the Qur’an.

None of that means that our challenges have disappeared. Our world faces hunger, oppression, and war. Our city continues to struggle with caring for migrants and coping with violence. Individuals struggle with mental health issues, with financial challenges, with loneliness and anxiety. For those able to focus on politics, more uncertainty and anxiety can be found there. Many of us who are used to hearing and dealing with the challenges of higher education see greater challenges in our current environment than ever before. Yet, the renewal spring promises offers a chance for us to reflect.

The Muslim calendar is based on the moon. Muslims determine the start and end of Ramadan based upon its sighting. This provokes continuous debate in the community about what constitutes an accepted sighting, and the role astronomical calculations can or should play. But more importantly in this context, it has us looking to the heavens often around this time. The beauty and cycles of the moon, and many other signs of creation, can evoke feelings of wonder and mystery. In the Qur’an we are encouraged to read these signs as pointing to the Creator, while they also remind us of our kinship with others, especially those we may miss. Looking at the moon, we may think of how people on the other side of the world are seeing that same moon, or perhaps how those who have passed away used to look at that same moon as well.

What do spiritual practices such as Ramadan and Lent invite us to during a time like this? In his Lenten message this year, Pope Francis describes the spiritual practices of Lent as comprising “a single movement of openness and self-emptying, in which we cast out the idols that weigh us down, the attachments that imprison us.”[1] While we often find comfort in prayer or other acts of worship, Saint Vincent once said that “prayer is like a mirror in which the soul sees all its stains and disfigurements.”[2] Ramadan is a time in which fasting and increased worship at night empty us of the superficial distractions that often fill our attention and the small comforts we use to cover our feelings. In such times, we first encounter ourselves as we really are—our human vulnerabilities are undeniable, the tears flow for all the pain in ourselves and our world. But we are not left there … we also envision ourselves and our communities as they could be! We find places of connection with the Divine and with each other; places of radical hospitality and generosity; and places of repentance, forgiveness, and transformation. An imaginative vision of a better future fuels our work toward change and helps us persevere through the difficulties we encounter along the way.

For Reflection:

In what season do you find yourself, personally or in your work at DePaul? What are you learning about yourself in this season? What is the vision of the future that inspires hope and energy for transformation in you?


Reflection by: Abdul-Malik Ryan, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care. 

 

For more information on some of the diverse religious holidays being observed at DePaul this spring please visit https://blogs.depaul.edu/dmm/about/1098-2/spring-depauls-season-of-celebrating-religious-holidays/

[1] Message of the Holy Father Francis for Lent 2024, 01.02.2024, at: Through the Desert God Leads us to Freedom.

[2] Conference 37, Mental Prayer, 31 May 1648, CCD, 9:327. See: https://‌via.‌library.‌depaul.‌edu/‌vincentian_‌ebooks/‌34/.

A Saint’s Fight with His Pillow and Other Challenges of Daily Life

I hate the daylight saving time change. I feel groggy and sleep-deprived for days after it happens. Around this change in the spring of 2016, I came across this exhortation from Vincent de Paul: “Don’t fight with your pillow … to see if you ought to get up.”[1] It’s difficult advice for me to follow in March, but the image struck me as so funny that I have remembered it all these years later. As I was looking for his exact quotation for this reflection, I found that he used it more than once, even with variations; “Believe me,” Vincent said as if he tried it, “there’s no use haggling with your pillow, for you won’t get the better of it.”[2] He noted that he often had trouble sleeping.[3] He and his followers were supposed to arise no later than 5:00 a.m., and Vincent told them to be “courageous in forming this habit.”[4] His choice of words suggests that this was not always an easy thing to do. (If it were, courage wouldn’t be required.) Here at DePaul University, where many of us teach or attend early morning classes, where staff may need to arrive early too, and where students may have late-night study sessions, we may particularly relate to difficulties with sleep.

Modern science tells us that it’s especially important to set a routine for sleep, going to bed and waking up at the same times. It also tells us that we should set a time for winding down at night, turning off our devices to read a book or meditate before sleep. Minus the part about devices, Vincent offered this same advice to his communities.[5] It, too, is easier said than done. I find unwinding hard. Whenever I try to meditate, I quickly lose my focus. Vincent acknowledged this challenge: “Perhaps you’ll tell me that you have so many things to think about that even when you’re praying you can’t spend a quarter of an hour without being distracted. Don’t be surprised at that; the greatest servants of God occasionally have these same difficulties.”[6]

If I were to offer a one-sentence summary of my thesis for this reflection, it might be something like “Saints—they’re just like us!” We often think of saints as serious people preoccupied with the big questions of life, people who were above our quotidian troubles. Certainly, Vincent did wrestle with big issues. But he was human. Knowing that he used humor and practical advice to address problems with sleep and mental focus makes it easier to relate to him. Relatability, in turn, leads to hope. If Vincent could rise above these things and accomplish so much, then maybe we can too.

Questions for reflection:

Regardless of the time change, millions of Americans have trouble with sleep deprivation. Are you one of them? Are there any lifestyle adjustments you could make that would help make your sleep better?

What do you know about Vincent that makes him relatable to you? Do these aspects inspire you to follow his example in larger ways?


Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Conference 102, “Order of Day (Arts. 1 and 2),” October 6, 1658, CCD, 10:455.

[2] See conference 23, “Holy Communion,” January 22, 1646, ibid., 9:188; and conference 35, “The Good Use of Admonitions,” March 15, 1648, ibid., 9:303.

[3] Conference 4, “Fidelity to Rising and Mental Prayer,” August 2, 1640, ibid., 9:24.

[4] Ibid.

[5] See conference 4, “Fidelity to Rising,” 9:24; and conference 15, “Explanation of the Regulations,” [June 14, 1643], ibid., 9:95.

[6] Conference 1, “Observance of the Rule,” January 22, 1645, ibid., 9:172.

Learning to be Led

“(P)lease be steadfast in walking in the vocation to which you are called.”1

Spring Break may give us a little space to pause and reflect. So, let me ask: how much of your life’s journey has been due to your choice, and how much of it has been something not of your own making?

In the United States, at least, the narrative we often tell ourselves is that we are independent and “self-made” people who can overcome every obstacle to achieve our dreams. We trust all things are possible. This sustained optimism can indeed enable us to work through difficulties and continue to believe–and that is a good thing.

However, life often throws us curveballs. The coronavirus pandemic is not something anyone would have chosen. Nor is the unexpected death of a loved one, or other such difficult life challenges that leave us upside down. Even something minor like the untimely arrival of bad weather during an outdoor walk or picnic can be such a curveball. Much of our lives amount to responding to circumstances out of our control.

Furthermore, few of us are world class athletes, though we may have dreamed of hitting the perfect “10” on the balance beam, swimming a championship level butterfly, or hitting a game winning shot. And, few of us will author an award-winning novel, become a nuclear physicist, win an Academy award, or win a million dollars even though we may have fantasized what it might be like. Our lives are probably somewhat less remarkable. They are typically characterized by some degree of human limitation that is not of our making, nor our desire.

Further tempering the narrative of the “self-made” person, consider that our identity and the choices we make are shaped by our families, communities, and relationships. We are often required to balance our own needs and wants with those of others.

Learning to be led through the events and relationships that shape our lives, then, is at the heart of living with a sense of vocation and mission, both individually and as an institution. The dreams we have for our lives are tempered, shaped, and redirected by the realities and circumstances we face. Most of these are outside our control or making and not of our choosing.

Living with a sense of vocation, or mission, is a way of being, a way of journeying through our lives. We are not simply choosing our personal playlist, making everything exactly how we would like it. Our personal hopes and dreams are an important part of the big picture. But so is being receptive to what life offers and to what our reality enables us to do and to be as we respond to the challenges that unexpectedly arise along the way.

Being steadfast in living our mission and walking in our vocation may not mean that things work out exactly as we planned, or in a predictable manner. It does mean faithfully discerning each step we take along the way as circumstances allow. The story of our lives is as much about being led, about being receptive to what emerges on the journey, as it is about forging a path of our choice.

Perhaps this is what Vincent meant when he said: “Wisdom consists in following Providence step by step.”2


1 Letter 1824, To a Priest of the Mission, 2 January 1655, CCD, 5:256.
Letter to Bernard Codoing, in Rome, 6 August 1644, CCD, 2:521

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Associate VP for Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry