The Business of Living the Mission

Updates, resources, and events highlighting the integration of DePaul’s Vincentian mission into the daily life and work of the university community.

MISSION MONDAY

Vincent at his writing desk

The Business of Living the Mission

Besides adeptly demonstrating strategic business acumen, Vincent simultaneously managed to incarnate the very same values that guided his life into the seventeenth-century marketplace.

                                   IMPORTANT DATES TO REMEMBER

NOVEMBER 20 | Gathering of Remembrance 2025

Each year, the DePaul community comes together for the Gathering of Remembrance, an interfaith service to honor the lives of DePaul faculty, staff, and students who have passed away this year. The ceremony includes the reading of names of those who have lost their loved ones and prayers from multiple faith traditions, creating a space for reflection, healing, and unity. RSVP

December 4 | Day with Vincent at the Art Institute

Join us for Day with Vincent at the Art Institute, a reflective and enriching experience exploring the intersection of art, beauty, and Vincentian values. Together, we’ll visit featured exhibits, engage in guided conversation, and take time for contemplation and community building. RSVP

The Business of Living the Mission

Updates, resources, and events highlighting the integration of DePaul’s Vincentian mission into the daily life and work of the university community.

MISSION MONDAY

Vincent at his writing desk

The Business of Living the Mission

Besides adeptly demonstrating strategic business acumen, Vincent simultaneously managed to incarnate the very same values that guided his life into the seventeenth-century marketplace.

                                   IMPORTANT DATES TO REMEMBER

NOVEMBER 12 | Lunch with Vincent:

DePaul faculty and staff, you are warmly invited to Lunch with Vincent where we will be joined by DePaul University Board of Trustees chair, Michael Scudder. Scudder will discuss his role as Board chair and how DePaul’s mission helps to guide his leadership during these challenging times for our university.  Hope to see you there!  RSVP

NOVEMBER 20 | Gathering of Remembrance 2025

Each year, the DePaul community comes together for the Gathering of Remembrance, an interfaith service to honor the lives of DePaul faculty, staff, and students who have passed away this year. The ceremony includes the reading of names of those who have lost their loved ones and prayers from multiple faith traditions, creating a space for reflection, healing, and unity. RSVP

The Business of Living the Mission

Written by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

St.Vincent at his writing desk

In spiritual circles, it is sometimes said that a person of faith should be in the world but not of the world. This expression has always perplexed me, and I have never truly understood it. How can a person be in the world but not of it? If this were even possible, why would a person want to live in such a bifurcated manner? Surely, such a dualistic way of being must lie at odds with the holistic Catholic and Vincentian worldview to which our mission at DePaul invites us.

I recently found myself musing over this while considering the challenging times we’re facing. Whether it be at our institution, in our city, or on a national or global scale, this is undoubtedly a turbulent period. It might be understandable to want to distance ourselves from the messiness of life right now, and to ensconce ourselves behind a wall of ideas and pristine principles, but that would not be in keeping with our mission. Rather, Vincentian wisdom calls on us to do quite the opposite. Instead, it invites us to gain practical knowledge (that can only be obtained in the doing) to weave together seemingly disparate worlds into a single, value-threaded tapestry.[i]

My intellectual meandering led me to turn to the life of our founder. When Vincent de Paul engaged in the world of business he did so anchored by a spiritual vision that upheld the dignity of all, particularly those who existed on the margins of society. Even if not always successful, Vincent’s quest was rooted in service of a higher cause to serve those who were economically poor.

According to Thomas McKenna, “Vincent’s sanctity came to blossom in a world of political hard knocks, financial and legal risk taking, and sometimes fierce corporate pressures. His heavy involvement in the institutional world evolved because it was necessary to finance all the initiatives he undertook. Hospitals, shelters, seminaries, half-way houses, preaching teams, orphanages, soup kitchens, war relief campaigns—they all needed sound and long-term backing.”[ii] With the goal of sustaining such ministries, Vincent would spend many hours requesting donations from the rich and powerful, establishing endowments, and buying, selling, and managing real estate. He utilized such financial approaches to help the ministries he founded thrive, not unlike many of the business strategies that DePaul University employs today to sustain our institution.

Furthermore, Vincent had a very hands-on approach to business. He would travel extensively throughout France to oversee negotiations in person. Sometimes, because of business ventures backfiring, Vincent would have to deal with “uncollected rents, unjust taxes, court suits, ruined harvests, delinquent debtors, contested wills, and crippling war damages.”[iii] Yet, Vincent remained a shrewd negotiator and steadfast administrator who, at times, possessed a clarity of thought that others lacked. Vincent’s words to the head of a retreat house clearly reveal this dynamic: “I’m glad you always have plenty of people on retreat. But you should be aware that quite a number of them, on the pretext of making a retreat, come only for the food. There are types who are only too happy to spend a peaceful seven or eight days at no expense to them!”[iv]

Over the course of his business dealings, Vincent certainly had to learn how to endure myriad institutional pressures. Yet, at no point did he understand himself as inhabiting two disparate worlds. Rather, “Vincent’s saintliness existed right in engagement with commerce and politics and bottom lines. For Vincent, the kingdom was pursued in the rough oceans and not in the calm of a mountain lake.”[v]

Fundamentally, besides adeptly demonstrating strategic business acumen, Vincent simultaneously managed to incarnate the very same values that guided his life into the seventeenth-century marketplace. Yet all the while, Vincent’s gaze never deviated from his end goal to support the foundations he had established to assist those who were socioeconomically poor and neglected.

At DePaul today, as unforeseen headwinds threaten to deviate us from our course, Vincent’s ability to sail in the powerful institutional currents of his day, and to learn from his struggles, must surely offer us a beacon of hope. In essence, when stormy seas loom, Vincent’s journey offers us key insights in how to steer a steady course while never losing sight of our desired end destination.


Reflection Questions

  1. Where do you turn for support so you can remain true to reaching your end destination when headwinds threaten to throw you off course?
  2. What spoke to you most about Vincent’s story of the saint who kept his worlds together? What might you learn from this insight both professionally and personally?

Reflection by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry


[i] Thomas McKenna, C.M., “Vincent de Paul: A Saint Who Got His Worlds Together,” Vincentian Heritage 18:1 (1997), 1. See https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol18/iss1/1/.

[ii] Ibid., 5.

[iii] Ibid., 7.

[iv] Ibid., 8.

[v] Ibid., 12.

Dialogue, Not Demonization

Updates, resources, and events highlighting the integration of DePaul’s Vincentian mission into the daily life and work of the university community.

 

MISSION MONDAY

Photo by The Jopwell Collection on Unsplash

Dialogue, Not Demonization

Successful dialogue with “the other side” requires questioning our own thinking.

READ MORE

 

 


UPCOMING EVENTS

Donate Blood—June 5 or 6

Make an appointment to give blood at the Ray Meyer Fitness and Recreation Center (Room 135):

  • Thursday, June 5 | 9:00 a.m. – 2:00 p.m.
  • Friday, June 6 | 12:00 p.m. – 5:00 p.m.
  • Schedule your visit at RedCrossBlood.org or call 1-800-RED CROSS. RapidPass is available to save you time.
  • As a thank-you, all donors in June will receive a $15 gift card and a chance to win a $7,000 prize!

All are welcome! Your participation helps strengthen our community of care.

 

Baccalaureate Lunch and Mass

Please RSVP HERE.

Dialogue, Not Demonization

Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photo by The Jopwell Collection on Unsplash

As political and social turmoil continues to beset the U.S., I keep asking questions. How did we get here? Where will we end up? And perhaps the most pressing question of all is a variation of the Vincentian question, What must be done? What can I do? How can I respond? At a virtual town hall a few months ago, my congressperson said that the most important thing to do now is to stay engaged—and he specifically recommended trying to talk to people who hold different views.

When he said that, I immediately recalled the last time I tried to engage a friend whose opinion seriously diverged from mine. It was in December 2021, when the first Covid boosters became available. My friend said he didn’t intend to get one. This friend and I had already had many conversations in 2020 that had not gone well. We differed on many issues, and it seemed to me that he was more and more inclined to believe in conspiracy theories. His positions on climate change and the origin of Covid particularly seemed to be anti-science, but he had gotten the first Covid vaccine. When he made this declaration, I was immediately prepared to try to convince him otherwise for his own good, especially since he had several health conditions that made him high risk. We started to debate vaccine safety. I began by talking about how vaccines are developed and what diseases they had already helped eradicate. And then I said, “These vaccines are safe—”

“They’re not!” he said.

Oh, no, here we go, I thought. “Yes, they are—”

“No, they aren’t! [His brother] ended up with a heart problem from the one he got. [His other brother] got the first shot and passed out. His girlfriend thought he was dead.”

The conversation ended shortly after that, with me offering sympathy for what his family had gone through but still saying he should talk with his doctor about getting a booster, and with him still refusing. Given what had been said in our conversations before, it perhaps wasn’t surprising that I thought my friend was anti-science. But the attitude that I approached him with was that I knew better than he did and that I was going to try to save him from himself and his woefully misguided viewpoint, which also endangered others. I assumed things about myself, and I assumed things about him, and my assumptions were that I had good reasons for thinking the way I did—and that he didn’t. I offered him sympathy, but I did not offer him empathy.

I thought about this again when I read Ilana Redstone’s The Certainty Trap: Why We Need to Question Ourselves More—and How We Can Judge Others Less. She writes, “The assumption that the other person is simply ignorant is easy. And it’s a way to avoid a disagreement. What’s more, dismissing someone’s opinion as being the result of not having enough or the right information gives me permission to move on, not really engaging with what they’re saying…. If I think my position is the one anyone would come to with the right information, I am free from having to interrogate or challenge my own thinking.” [1] In other words, we would do well to follow Vincent de Paul’s injunction to “practice humility and patience.” [2] Vincent based his entire community on this principle. He and his followers were well familiar with the idea of needing to fully listen to the people they encountered, both the people they were serving and the people who were their colleagues in service. It was the key to their success—but that doesn’t mean it was easy.

As heirs to Vincent here at DePaul, this principle calls us to approach disagreement with honesty and in good faith, in the sense that we must fully acknowledge both the content and feeling behind an opposing viewpoint. It is both arrogance and an error to dismiss a view we do not hold by attributing it to reasons that serve our own preconceived sense of what is true. We need to engage in dialogue with the assumption that the other person has actual reasons behind what they are saying, reasons that go beyond ignorance or hate. That is what I should have done with my friend. I thought he was ignorant, but he was actually speaking from real life experience. I worried that he was endangering himself and others, yet his motives were quite the opposite.

As I wrote before the 2024 presidential election, studies show that it’s not so much the American people who are polarized as it is their leaders. We hold similar values, but we disagree on how to put them into practice. Or we may choose officials we agree with on some issues without espousing all of their actions and rhetoric. It’s hard to believe that, given what we see in headlines and on television. It is so tempting, especially in these times, to demonize the other side, whoever the “other side” may be. But doing so is destructive. We have to keep talking to each other. Redstone says the way to do this is to articulate a value behind your position. For example, you could say, “I believe all people deserve to live in a safe environment, so I believe migration is a human right.” If you articulate the value (“all people deserve to live in a safe environment”), you avoid using some of the shorthand that gets charged, and you can help people to avoid misunderstanding the value behind your position. The same value in this example could lead to someone holding the opposite position, but if you both articulate the value, you can see where you have some common ground and work from there.

Committing to dialogue doesn’t mean abandoning our own core values. As Redstone writes, it means “learning to recognize when we think some aspect of a heated issue is simple or obvious, and that anyone who sees it differently is ignorant or evil…. Leaving certainty behind doesn’t require anyone to admit to being wrong (maybe you’re not wrong after all). It just means being a little less sure you’re right.” [3]

Reflection Questions

  1. Can you think of a situation in your life when your assumptions about someone else’s beliefs turned out to be wrong? What led you to those assumptions?
  2. Think about a position that is opposite from one you hold. What might be one valid reason (not ignorance or evil) that could lead someone to that view? What would another person be accepting as a fact to come to that conclusion? Would you and that other person agree on the same meaning of vocabulary that is key to the issue?

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Ilana Redstone, The Certainty Trap: Why We Need to Question Ourselves More—and How We Can Judge Others Less (Pitchstone Publishing, 2024), 79. I highly recommend this book, which has exercises in it to help you challenge your thinking.

[2] Letter 1537, “To A Coadjutor Brother, in the Genoa House,” August 16, 1652, CCD, 4:442. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/29/.

[3] Redstone, Certainty Trap, 225.

When Our Students Become Our Teachers

Written by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

No matter how long you may have worked or studied at DePaul, I am pretty sure that by now you will have become familiar with the Vincentian question, “What must be done?”

This pivotal question was originally asked of Vincent by Mme de Gondi as they contemplated some of the deplorable conditions in which those living in poverty were existing in seventeenth-century France. It still has much relevance for us today. [1] Indeed, the question could be considered an unofficial motto for DePaul in today’s context.

In fact, we tend to hear this question so frequently that I sometimes wonder if it is at risk of losing its true meaning. As the question doesn’t offer any easy answers, it may occasionally sound hollow, or perhaps even perfunctory, as though it is stating the obvious. Yet, at the same time, the open-ended nature of these words may be their genius.

I was recently invited to reflect on this question anew through a poignant experience that occurred during immersion week as part of a Discover Chicago class that I was teaching. On the hottest day of the year, under a sweltering 97-degree sun, we had visited Pilsen to participate in a mural tour. This site visit is always one of the most popular, as we get to walk around Pilsen led by a dynamic tour guide, Luis, who accompanies us from mural to mural explaining the history of the neighborhood and helping us interpret the meaning behind each art piece.

This summer, we were undeniably flagging as we trudged through the Pilsen streets and alleyways. In the height of the afternoon sun, we struggled to maintain our focus on the wealth of information that was being shared, as we artfully sought to plant ourselves beneath any sliver of tree coverage or dappled sunlight that we could possibly find. As we paused to behold yet another striking piece of art, resplendent with layers of deep meaning, a street vendor selling popsicles happened to walk past us pushing a cart full of tempting cool refreshments. When he saw our group, he promptly sidled up to us, though with the large size of our group, there was no remaining shade under which he could shelter. As he rang his bell, he beckoned to us several times, petitioning us to buy something. A couple of us politely said no thanks and continued to listen to our guide. After waiting for several moments to see if there were any last-minute customers, the vendor moved on, disappearing into the haze of the blazing sunlight. We, too, continued along our way to stop at the next art piece, though clearly some of the group were more focused on when the tour might end, and when we would be able to escape the heat and rest. It had certainly been a long day.

At the end of immersion week, back in the air-conditioned classroom, the group was invited to reflect on the week’s many activities. One of the students chose to refocus our attention on our Pilsen experience, though she took a different angle than I might have imagined. In addition to acknowledging the intense heat of that day and expressing her appreciation of the various murals, this student’s most enduring memory was of the humble palatero, whom many of us had soon forgotten. As she recalled, “We were all so tired that day as we had been standing out in the hot sun for about an hour, but I also found myself wondering about the palatero and how he was. How many of us had truly seen him? We felt so exhausted standing outside in the sun for a bit, but he had probably been outside trying to make a small living from early that morning to late evening, and he would be out long after we had returned home. We were a large group. What would it have taken for one of us to buy something from him? How did we acknowledge his dignity? What might we have done differently?”

The prophecy and wisdom of this first-year student’s words invited the class to pause and enter a moment of deep reflection. What might the students have done differently? What might their professor?

When taken seriously, the Vincentian question asks us to consider not just what I must do, but also what you must do, and what we must do. It is an eternal question that does not offer immediate answers. It should not. Life is complicated, and discerning just action must involve myriad voices and endless possibilities.

From a Vincentian lens, a simple gesture that might start out by acknowledging the humanity of another, who may otherwise be forgotten or ignored by much of society, must also invite us to consider larger societal questions of equity and justice. For, in the tradition of Vincent, personalism must be informed by professionalism. Both invite us to integrate an affective and relational approach to the person in need in front of us while considering an effective, pragmatic, and systemic solution to the challenges that they may be facing.

I believe that the Vincentian question of what must be done, while it may feel overused at times, should never stop challenging each of us to plant seeds of goodness in the world today to leave it a better place than we found it. Who would have thought that a simple act, such as buying a refreshment from an outside vendor on a hot Chicago summer’s day, might present us with such a rich opportunity to embrace our mission anew?

Reflection Questions:

  • Was there a pivotal moment in your DePaul career that challenged you to envision the mission anew?
  • What is the one small action that you might do today with great love to continue to cultivate a culture of dignity at DePaul?

Reflection by: Siobhan O’Donoghue, PhD, Director of Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] Edward R. Udovic, C.M., Ph.D., “‘Our good will and honest efforts.’ Vincentian Perspectives on Poverty Reduction Efforts,” Vincentian Heritage 28:2 (2010): 72. Available at: http://‌‌via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol28/iss2/5.

Recentering on Our Vocation

“Holiness consists in this: doing well what you do, in conformity to your vocation.”

  Vincent de Paul

We have enough on our plate. And please remember, no one is asking us to be Saint Mother Teresa. We are all challenged enough each day with the ongoing invitation to become most fully and authentically who God has called us to be. That is, to become self-giving, for our own fulfillment and joy, as well as for the benefit of others. Therefore, what I do ask is that you consider what you must do to attend to your unique talents and how to offer them to a world greatly in need of them.

This ever-present call to honor our unique vocation is true for individuals—and it is also true for institutions. We are not Harvard, nor Notre Dame, nor a public state-sponsored university, nor are we called to be. Rather, we are DePaul University, with our own unique history, present-day context, and reason for being. Institutionally, we, too, can benefit from remembering who we are and thereby growing more into who we can become for the world’s sake.

It has long been my contention that this focus on vocation—or purpose, mission, reason for being, or contribution to the world—is at the heart of what our Catholic and Vincentian mission is for all those who work and study here at DePaul. It is a threshold concept that moves or reframes our thinking about who we are into a transcendent dimension while grounding us in the realities of the present moment. It is a concept that can be articulated or understood in different ways appropriate for the diverse community we are and seek to serve. It is relevant to every academic discipline and area of work. It names a profound aspect of the human experience that is essential to the “integral human development” and the “way of wisdom” that we profess are central to our institutional mission. What is the unique contribution we can make to the world and those around us—in this moment, and in the entire arc of our lifetime? This question always beckons us forward.

This summer, all those around you at DePaul and beyond will benefit if you do what you must to reconnect to who you are most deeply, to that which you know you have to offer our community, and to what makes you come alive. If you work for the university, take a moment to re-center on what you know that you and DePaul have to offer to our students and to society. Envision your work within this larger frame of reference.

It is a simple concept, but that does not mean it is easy to do or to sustain. Yet taking time and space now and again to remember who we are, and to re-center ourselves in our vocation, makes a world of difference to our lives and to those around us. Therefore, I encourage you, in the words of Vincent de Paul, “Please be steadfast in walking in the vocation to which you are called.”

Reflection Questions:

  • When you engage the question, “What must be done?” in your own life and growth as a person to become who you are called to be, what comes to mind for you?
  • How do you understand DePaul University’s institutional vocation?
  • How can you use the summer weeks—individually and with those you work most closely—to re-ground yourself in your own vocation or connect your daily work more consciously to DePaul’s mission?

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Interim Vice President, Mission and Ministry

1 Conference 116, “Uniformity (Common Rules, Art. 17)” November 15, 1657, CCD, 10:284.

2 Howard Thurman, well-known theologian and spiritual advisor to many in the US civil rights movement, once famously said: “Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

3 Letter 1824, “To a Priest of the Mission,” January 2, 1655, CCD, 5:256.

Finding Hope in Dark Times

French holy card which reads, “A good conscience is in unalterable joy and peace, even in the midst of adversities.”

“Another effect of charity is to rejoice with those who rejoice. It causes us to enter into their joy … to unite us in one mind and in joy as well as in sorrow.”[1] – Saint Vincent de Paul

I have a sense these days that folks are having a hard time feeling hopeful. I only need to glance at the front page of the newspaper to understand why. I gave up consuming too much news a while back. It wasn’t doing any good for my soul.

From the little I’ve read and heard, Saint Vincent de Paul seems to have been a joyful person. He, too, lived at a time when there was plenty to be worried about. Plagues ravaged Europe in Vincent’s day, institutional corruption ran deep, and the social order was profoundly unfair. The poor that he spent so many years serving bore the brunt of the suffering. He had beloved friends die young and violently. He took these losses hard. Yet he found a way to remain joyful. Vincent is certainly not the only person who has known loss all too well but remained hopeful, joyful, and grateful. What’s their secret?

Last month I was listening to a podcast on grief and loss created by Anderson Cooper called “All There Is.” One of the episodes is an extraordinary interview with Stephen Colbert. At age ten, Stephen lost his father and two teenage brothers in a plane crash. That is a defining experience in his life, obviously. Of course, he wishes that didn’t happen. Yet he will say he’s grateful for it. Stephen believes in his core that it is a gift to exist. He knows that existence comes with suffering; it’s unavoidable. He believes that if you’re grateful for your life, you have to be grateful for all of it. While he wishes that tragedy never happened, he knows that having experienced that unimaginable loss made him a more compassionate, more human person. He can’t help but acknowledge that it has helped him love others in a deeper way. In that sense, Stephen is grateful for the thing he most wishes didn’t happen. This tragedy did not keep Stephen from being a joyful, hopeful person. I think he’s on to something.

Later this month, I will be accompanying a group of students on a service immersion trip to El Salvador. From what I have read of the history of Central and South America, I have been impressed by how a suffering and oppressed people produced beautiful music and art that spoke not only to their resilience and courage but indeed to their joyfulness. On a recent trip to Ireland, I was again struck by how much beautiful poetry, as well as raucously fun music and dance, seems to come from those who suffer greatly. How do they do it? On the trip to El Salvador, my role is staff mentor. I think, however, that I have much more to learn than to impart.

I’m thinking Vincent’s secret might lie in his animating question: “What must be done?” Vincent, Louise, and those they served with didn’t just lament the suffering of others. They went and lived with those who were afflicted. They walked with them and shared in their lives. My guess is they hated the circumstances that resulted in such suffering. Like Stephen Colbert, however, they leaned into the reality of the thing they wished wasn’t so. In sharing in the suffering of others, they also shared in their joy.

I don’t pretend to know the answer to the question of how to remain hopeful in these dark times. But I suspect that running away from suffering isn’t the answer. Nor is reading about it and lamenting it. Maybe, paradoxically, going through it with others is a better strategy.

Reflection Question:

Ponder artworks, poems, movies, etc. that are sad or tragic while also being unbearably beautiful. How is it that those two things can coexist in your heart?


Reflection by: Rich Goode, Executive Director, Planned Giving | Advancement and External Relations

[1] Conference 207, Charity (Common Rules, Chap. II, Art. 12), 30 May 1659, CCD, 12:222. See: https:‌‌//‌‌via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/36/.

Designing a DePaul with Heart

In the coming weeks, our DePaul community will continue to engage in the current strategic design process and consider the short and long-term future of our beloved institution. This is likely to include seeing, hearing about, and sharing together in many challenging conversations as we manage the implications of the recent announcement about the budget challenges and the headwinds the university is facing.

At this time in our history, it is as important as ever to center our thinking and collective conversations about budgets, departments, programs, and services around our DePaul University mission. In the light of this mission and amid our current budgetary tensions and constraints, as well as our aspirational hopes and dreams, we are challenged to thoughtfully discern and intentionally decide what is and will remain fundamental to who we are and who we believe we are called to become as a Catholic, Vincentian institution of higher education. This call is perhaps never more important than in times of political and economic adversity. What must be done? We must integrate conscious attention to equity, sustainability and community into our design and decision-making processes.

We share these thoughts as an interdisciplinary group of faculty members across all ten colleges who have spent the last year as part of the pilot Vincentian Pedagogy Project. Together, we have collectively learned, reflected upon, and discussed the ways in which our Vincentian mission might inform and inspire our practice of teaching.

We have concluded that how we enact mission in our classrooms needs to remain central to our collective conversations. While there are some things that we cannot control at the university, the work of teaching and learning is uniquely ours. What we do in the classroom, how we think about educational outcomes, and how we shape educational processes with our students lie at the heart of who we are and what we do as an institution of higher learning. Our pedagogical commitments are a concrete reflection of how we understand and practice our Vincentian mission.

In the pedagogy group’s shared reflections over the past year, we have become more conscious of how our teaching most commonly reflects what we value and how systems produce the outcomes that they have been designed to produce. Therefore, we believe it is particularly important for us to ask: what is the institutional and educational vision toward which we are working? Who do we, as educators, need to become if we are to achieve this vision? What must we do in the classroom and in our work with students to achieve this vision?

How we think about the education we deliver matters. Becoming more conscious and intentional about the way our systems and educational processes are structured—both visibly and invisibly, whether consciously or unconsciously—is an essential part of the process of effective design and shapes how decisions are made. If our mission is to have integrity, the means must reflect the end that we seek. In other words, our pedagogy must reflect the educational outcomes to which we aspire.

After four lengthy and in-depth conversations together this academic year, our shared wisdom about what a Vincentian pedagogy entails has moved us to the common recognition that most fundamentally our teaching is and must remain motivated by a mission far bigger than our own individual disciplines. As people inspired by the intuition and spirit of Vincent de Paul, we advocate for delivering an education not only focused on developing professional competence, but also the formation of people with hearts for those in need. We must develop their skill and capacity to work collaboratively with a wide diversity of others toward a more just, equitable and sustainable society and planet. In short, we teach with and for social and environmental thriving.

Significantly, recent major international conversations about education, such as those led by the Catholic Church and the United Nations, have moved more and more toward a focus on equity and sustainability as central to the work of education. They suggest that through education we build together the future of our humanity. This means cultivating a spirit of community, solidarity, compassion, and care for one another and a deep appreciation for the dignity of all people, particularly those who are marginalized and abandoned.

An important part of what is needed to achieve such a vision of education both globally and locally is nurturing the habit of living and learning in a communal context. In the current age, therefore, our pedagogy must involve inviting the wisdom, perspective, and participation of those we seek to teach, as well as fostering critical self-reflection and self-examination in our students. Doing so involves a certain degree of vulnerability, including the willingness and ability of teachers to model what they teach. This involves being self-aware and reflecting on the ways in which our beliefs and practices, our use of power, and the responsibilities entrusted to us either help or hurt movement toward our stated educational vision and goals.

What does all of this have to do with the current institutional context?

First, we hope that the decisions of members across the university community, including those of our institutional leaders, will be guided by clearly stated mission-related values. Transparent communication about the vision and direction in which we are seeking to move benefits all. A high level of self-awareness and self-scrutiny is needed if we are to hold true to our values and not replicate the harms so prevalent in the patterns present in our broader society. Again, the means must reflect the ends to which we aspire.

Second, sound decisions most often involve the collective wisdom of the broader community. When we move and decide independently of consideration for the larger whole, the community to which we belong and seek to serve, we are more likely to forget who we are. The community holds us accountable to what we most value. We hope to see this appreciation of communal wisdom evident through the participation of a diverse community of DePaul faculty, staff, and students in the Designing DePaul process.

Third, we must continue to work intentionally to develop the systems and to cultivate with care the kind of community-of-persons that will most help us achieve the mission to which we aspire. Communities are not built by happenstance, but through careful attention and care for each other.

DePaul University, with our distinctive Catholic and Vincentian mission, is well positioned to contribute meaningfully to a new humanity through our approaches to pedagogy and leadership. Our mission calls us to model and support the development of competent and skilled teachers and leaders with a heart. By intention, the education we provide and the leadership we exhibit should clearly reveal our commitment and desire to work together with others in our rapidly changing, complex, and diverse world and toward the goal of a more just, equitable, and sustainable human community and planet. In these times, and especially in the midst of our current challenges, let us move with intention toward this hope in the service of our mission.


Reflection by:    The Vincentian Pedagogy Project Pilot Group

Christopher Tirres, College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences, co-lead faculty facilitator
Jacki Kelly-McHale, School of Music, co-lead faculty facilitator
Sarah Brown, Center for Teaching and Learning
Doug Bruce, College of Science and Health
Susanne Dumbleton, School of Continuing and Professional Studies
Elissa Foster, College of Communication
Sharon Guan, Center for Teaching and Learning
Horace Hall, College of Education
Jaclyn Jensen, College of Business
Mark Laboe, Associate VP, Mission and Ministry
Sheryl Overmyer, College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences
Coya Paz Brownrigg, Theatre School
Mark Potosnak, College of Science and Health
Howard Rosing, Steans Center
Ann Russo, College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences
Allison Tirres, College of Law
Allen Turner, College of Computing and Digital Media
Chris Worthman, College of Education

 

Gentleness in Our Relationships

Vincent de Paul with Francis de Sales, Jeanne de Chantal

“Kindness is the key to hearts.”[1]

—Saint Vincent de Paul

Last week (and every year on January 25), on the Catholic feast day of the conversion of Saint Paul, Vincentians around the globe celebrated what we have come to know as Foundation Day. Vincent de Paul remembered this day as the critical moment when his mission began, the day he gave a powerful sermon at the church in Folleville, France. The sermon came in large part from his lived experience of witnessing the great need among the rural poor for material and spiritual care, and most likely, after hearing the probing question of Madame de Gondi—“Vincent, what must be done?”

What I always find interesting and so very appropriate is the Catholic feast day that falls each year on the day before our Foundation Day, on January 24. This day is celebrated each year as the feast day of Saint Francis de Sales, a spiritual giant and contemporary of Vincent de Paul. Francis clearly had a deep and transformational impact on Vincent and on the way that Vincent eventually came to understand and practice spirituality in the latter part of his life. “Vincent I,” the person Vincent was in the first part of his life, was by all reports what we might call an average and (at times) self-serving priest, who then transformed into “Vincent II,” the person who came to be regarded by many as a saint.[2] In addition to the pivotal events of 1617, which many have deemed as the turning point from “Vincent I” to “Vincent II,” it seems quite clear that Francis de Sales contributed significantly to shaping the spiritual framework of the transformation that took place in Vincent de Paul.

Saint Francis de Sales, the bishop of Geneva, was highly regarded and well known in Vincent’s time and he continues to be famous for his practical application of the spiritual life to everyday life and relationships. At the very least, Francis’s pragmatic spirituality clearly had a marked resemblance to what emerged as the spiritual vision of Vincent de Paul. This vision solidified after their face-to-face encounters in Paris beginning around November 1618. It was then that Francis came to Paris for a ten-month period on business. And, indeed, Francis’s influence is reflected by the particular ways in which Vincent continued to grow and express himself spiritually in the second half of his life.

Vincent helped to petition the pope for Francis’s beatification nearly forty years later. What seemed to impress Vincent—and most people—about Francis de Sales was his kind and gentle spirit. According to Vincent, the two “had the honor of enjoying [a] close friendship.”[3] Vincent is reported to have called Francis “a living gospel.”[4] Known for the now popular spiritual advice that “a spoonful of honey attracts more flies than a barrelful of vinegar,” Francis preached the way of gentleness in relationships, recognizing that our everyday encounters with others are the consummate opportunity to practice love and to grow in virtue. Later, we see the emergence of Vincent’s emphasis on the virtue of “meekness,” which has been translated as becoming “approachable” by and for others. Vincent had previously noted that Francis “made himself accessible to all, without distinction—religious as well as secular and laypersons—who came to consult him …”[5] Additionally, Francis was known to have emphasized the importance of spiritual zeal and humility, which are virtues that Vincent eventually identified as foundational to his vision for the Congregation of the Mission.

Louise de Marillac was also someone who held Francis in high esteem. The quote from Vincent shared above about kindness occurred while he was speaking to the Daughters of Charity about the practice of mutual respect and gentleness in their interactions with others, particularly with those who are poor and whom we wish to serve. He suggested such virtues must be characteristic of all those seeking to practice this mission of charity and care for those in need.

Vincent de Paul was a unique person who initiated a great mission that we continue to live and benefit from today. We remember him now as a saint, as one to emulate. We look to his example for inspiration and guidance as we continue to carry forward his legacy and mission in our work at DePaul University.

And, at the same time, no human being grows into the fullness of their identity and vocation without others who support, inspire, and mentor them along the way. We, like Vincent, most commonly gain and sustain a vision for our own life through the relationships and vocational narratives that we have been blessed to encounter along the way.

Reflection Questions:

  • In what ways do kindness and gentleness resonate with you in relation to what you have come to know about living our Vincentian mission at DePaul? How might you integrate them more intentionally into your daily interactions?
  • Who are foundational spiritual influences in your own life?

Reflection by: Mark Laboe, Associate VP for Mission and Ministry

[1] Conference 27, “The Practice of Mutual Respect and Gentleness,” August 19, 1646, CCD, 9:207.

[2] Hugh O’Donnell, C.M., touches on this idea in Frances Ryan, D.C., John E. Rybolt, C.M., eds., Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac: Rules, Conferences, and Writings, Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press, 1995), 15ff.

[3] Document 29, “Deposition at the Process of Beatification of Francis de Sales,” (April 17, 1628), CCD, 13a:81.

[4] James Dyar, “‘To listen like a Disciple’ (Is. 50:4),” Colloque 9 (1984), at We are Vincentians: The Vincentian Formation Network, Know More to Serve More (blog), July 12, 2016, http://vincentians.com/en/to-listen-like-a-disciple-is-504/. Citation refers to the blog post.

[5] Document 29, “Deposition at the Process of Beatification of Francis de Sales,” (April 17, 1628), CCD, 13a:83.