How Do We Operationalize Dignity?

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

Some of you reading this may be familiar with the Chicago street named Ozanam Avenue, but how many know who this street is named after? Frédéric Ozanam was a French Catholic literary scholar, lawyer, professor, social advocate, and lay Catholic leader. Of all the Vincentian Family members, Ozanam has always had a special place in my heart. For me, he models something essential about how we can make our Vincentian mission concrete through our actions.

I first learned of Ozanam when I was a teenager at school in the UK. Inspired by the idea of a faith that does justice and eager to engage in community service, I had joined a school-based conference of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. Ozanam, as I soon learned, was the principal founder of the original society. He had founded the organization with a group of friends in 1833 while a university student. They named it after St. Vincent de Paul because he was considered “a national hero of social service” and admired by many in France, even those who were anti-Church. [1] The members’ goal was to help those who were poor, while at the same time developing their own faith. Keen to learn more about him, I happened upon a biography about Ozanam called Apostle in a Top Hat. Today, I might be inclined to be more discerning when choosing a biography. But at that time, the idea of interrogating a text for its authenticity was beyond me. For me, Ozanam represented a social justice icon and a man who was set on fire by a quest for faith and justice. His journey spoke deeply to my idealistic self. I devoured the book and have never forgotten the cover: a Victorian gentleman tipping an impossibly large top hat!

As I think back, our school-based St. Vincent de Paul Society was a modest entity. A motley crew of awkward, if well-meaning teenagers who, while moderately concerned about the state of the world, were primarily driven by the idea of long summer afternoons of not having to be in class. Our mission was to visit people in their homes who were seeking some kind of support, listen to them, and try to alleviate some of their needs with our adolescent vigor, then report back to the group on their well-being. We would also pray for, and sometimes with, those we visited. Our group was supported by a school chaplain, who could provide a higher level of intervention, if it was warranted.

Often, such home visits meant simply sitting with people in the humblest of homes and, in a show of true British hospitality, sharing a cup of tea, biscuits, and a listening ear, while they recounted the trials and tribulations of their days. While hardly backbreaking work or enacting any admirable social change, it was a powerful act of recognizing the dignity of another, and a way of saying, “We see you and we care.” We were grateful for the experience. We even got to feel somewhat proud of our adolescent selves, out serving in the community, no matter our real motivation for such engagement. In his time, Ozanam came to believe that face-to-face contact with poor families provided him with invaluable experiential learning, which in turn caused him to profoundly reshape his perceptions. My own experience of being a member of the St. Vincent de Paul Society also challenged my preconceived (and sometimes ill-informed) notions of poverty and social deprivation and reinforced for me the essentiality of interpersonal connection.

Today, the St. Vincent de Paul Society continues to be active in 155 countries. It has 800,000 members across 48,000 conferences, along with 1.5 million volunteers and collaborators. They serve over 30 million people worldwide every day. Conferences are based in churches, schools, community centers, hospitals, etc. [2] Their mission continues to be to offer support to people in need, particularly those living in poverty. The home visit remains an integral part of the service they provide. In this way, their ministry harkens back to the time of Ozanam when members would take firewood, food, and money to the homes of those who were poor. Yet, even in the days of the original conferences, it was never about the firewood, or the provision of goods, or funds. Rather it was about the compassionate spirit with which the members approached the visits. While certainly home visits were never the most efficient way to deliver assistance, they served as an important way to honor the dignity of the other by providing a moment of true presence and care, in a world that was often too busy to take the time to invest in such relationality. It is the spirit of love, respect, justice, hope, and joy that still defines this work, through which the members strive to shape a more just and compassionate world.

Admittedly, making home visits can be personally inconvenient and can even feel a little awkward. However, this simple act of humanity can transform a transactional service delivery into a meaningful encounter of mutuality, thus inviting a bond of intimacy, which no technological operation could ever provide. As Ozanam recognized, personal visits were a point of mutual exchange where both the visitor and the visited were beneficiaries. [3] This model of the home visit further hearkens back to the legacy of Vincent de Paul and the familiar story of the white tablecloth, a metaphor that calls us to approach all we do with the utmost care for the dignity of others. [4]

So, what wisdom might the humble home visit offer to us at DePaul today? In addressing this, I find myself recalling a question that a faculty member once posed to me after she had read DePaul’s new mission statement: “Dignity is a great concept, but how do we operationalize it?” I believe that the wisdom of the home visit can help us address this complex question, since the same personalism lies at its very heart and is modeled at DePaul each and every day. For, while the provision of concrete resources to help address a need is essential, it is the gift of sincere listening and a compassionate heart that defines us and makes all the difference.

Essentially, it is the spirit of love, respect, care, and empathy, and the commitment to right relationship that must inform how we support our students—and each other—at DePaul. Personalism must never be overshadowed by a mentality of just getting the job done in the most efficient way possible if it crowds out the personhood of those standing in front of us. Indeed, personalism must continue to define any institution that calls itself Vincentian. While efficiency and effectiveness are certainly important, personalism must continue to shape who we are and inform who we are called to be, just as it did in the time of Ozanam, and certainly in the days of Vincent and Louise before him. We come from a rich tradition, and it is up to us to live out its rich legacy.

Reflection questions:

  1. When was the last time you encountered personalism at DePaul?
  2. What might it look like for efficiency and personalism to exist seamlessly at DePaul?

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

[1] Thomas McKenna, C.M. “Frédéric Ozanam’s Tactical Wisdom for Today’s Consumer Society,” Vincentian Heritage 30:1 (2010): 11. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol30/iss1/1.

[2] “Where Are We?” International Confederation of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, accessed January 29, 2025, https://www.ssvpglobal.org/where-we-are/.

[3] McKenna, “Frédéric Ozanam’s Tactical Wisdom,” 16.

[4] See “The Story of the White Tablecloth,” posted August 15, 2011 by Mission and Ministry DePaul University, YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CgJVAC7Na8.

Living Content Among Reasons of Discontent

Written By: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

Photo by Aaron Burden.

The winter quarter months of January, February, and March often seem interminable. Joyful holiday events are over, the optimism with which we’ve greeted the new year may be waning, and our ability to keep our New Year’s resolutions may lessen with every passing day. Spring break can seem far away as we stare down the maw of winter.

For me, the worst aspect of this season is feeling that my productivity is impaired while knowing that there’s so much yet to accomplish. The antidote is finding that I’m not alone and that even immensely dynamic people feel the same way. I’m accustomed to hearing stories about this from those around me—but it may surprise you, as it did me, to know that people from our Vincentian past knew this feeling well. In an 1835 letter, Frédéric Ozanam, the founder of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul, wrote: “I feel inspiration withdrawing from me as it were in warning…. I cannot will, I cannot do, and I feel the weight of daily neglected responsibility gathering on my head.… I fell into a state of languor from which I cannot rouse myself. Study now fatigues me …. I can no longer write. Strength is not in me. I am blown about by every wind of my imagination.” [1] Reading these words, I think it’s no coincidence that this letter was dated in February!

How are we to cope with feelings like this? Do the founders of our Vincentian Family have any advice to offer?

Although he didn’t address the winter doldrums specifically, Vincent de Paul once offered Louise de Marillac wise counsel when she was experiencing profound restlessness. From the perspective of their shared faith, he encouraged her to bear ambiguity and dissatisfaction patiently with grace, saying, “Try to live content among your reasons for discontent and always honor the inactivity and unknown condition of the Son of God. That is your center and what He asks of you for the present and for the future, forever.” [2] Although these words were written about a particular situation (Louise was worrying over finding her vocation), they work for our scenario as well. In modern terms, we need to accept our feelings of negativity. Denying them only makes things worse; it makes us fight against ourselves. Realizing that these feelings have a purpose—even if we don’t currently understand it—is also helpful. Vincent was encouraging Louise to be at peace with dormancy, recognizing that it might be a part of the development of something. With that in mind, we can see the languor of winter as a necessary period of quiet preparation, anticipating the refreshed spirit and renewed activity of spring.

Reflection Questions:

If you’re experiencing seasonal discontent, can you identify any specific causes? Can these tell you anything about what might be developing within you? To put it another way, how might your winter be laying a positive foundation for your coming spring?

Reflection by: Miranda Lukatch, Editor, Vincentian Studies Institute

[1] Frederick J. Easterly, C.M., “Frédérick Ozanam, A Layman For Now,” Vincentian Heritage 4:2 (1983): 163. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vhj/vol4/iss2/4/.

[2] Letter 29, “To Saint Louise,” [between 1626 and May 1629], CCD, 1:54. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/25/.

King, Vincent and the Courage to Persevere

Written By: Abdul-Malik Ryan, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity and Pastoral Care

The MLK Living Memorial, dedicated in 2016 to mark the 50th Anniversary of King marching in Marquette Park. The effort to create it was led by the Inner-City Muslim Action Network, and DePaul University was one of the supporting sponsors. See https://bit.ly/40khz1Z

Sometimes I wonder, as I know others have, what Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. would think about the fact that his birthday is celebrated as a national holiday. When King was living and working, the only individuals so honored were Jesus (peace be upon him) and George Washington. [1] King would likely be surprised that he would be so honored for many different reasons. He was widely unpopular among white Americans at the time of his death. King maintained a popularity with white Americans outside the South while he was focused on civil rights in the South, but became less popular when he turned his attention to discrimination in the North. In August 1966, when King was marching through Marquette Park on Chicago’s South Side to protest housing discrimination, 63 percent of Americans had an unfavorable view of King and only 12 percent reported a “highly favorable” view. [2] King’s increasing focus on speaking out against the Vietnam war and the planned Poor People’s Campaign turned even those who had been King’s allies, like President Lyndon Johnson, against him.

If King could imagine a turn of events that would lead to a national holiday in his honor, I am sure he would hope that it would indicate that many people had come to see that he was right in the causes for which he struggled. It can certainly be argued that is true in some ways. By 2011, almost no one (only one percent) reported a “highly unfavorable” view of King to Gallup. [3] If it isn’t the case that most Americans have adopted King’s pacifism, the majority have come to see the Vietnam War as having been a mistake. [4]  

However, King understood enough about politics and human nature to worry that his increasing popularity in the decades after his death may have come from a misunderstanding, or at the least, a selective understanding, of what he was all about. He might also think that naming a national holiday after someone who tried to be a prophetic voice for change can be something of a paradox. (Of course, Jesus preceded King in that paradox.)

What is the value of holidays anyway? Certainly, times for rest, reflection, and celebration are good. The King holiday on January 20th invites us to reflect on the questions around his legacy and inspires us to continue the good that he came to symbolize for many. On January 25th at DePaul University we also spend time reflecting on the legacy of Saint Vincent de Paul as we mark Foundation Day. Vincent attributed this date as the beginning of the mission with his sermon at Folleville. Today, when there is for many a general sense of anxiety about the state of the world and even the future of higher education, what can we take from reflecting on these men and more importantly the wider legacies of the movements they continue to inspire? 

I think in times of injustice, in times of violence, in times of poverty, in times of anxiety, in times of confusion, the first call of these legacies is the call to courage. Courage to face challenges rather than run from them. Courage to do what one believes is right rather than what is easy or popular. Like other prophetic figures, Martin Luther King and Saint Vincent envisioned a world different from the one they saw around them. They had the courage to articulate that vision and work to convince others.

Beyond that though, they each had the courage to have faith in divine providence and to trust even when times looked bleak. This is the courage I find most inspiring, the courage to keep going, the courage to refuse to become cynical. This is the courage to not just want change, but to work for it, and to be willing to come together with others to do so, even when it is difficult.

In a sermon King delivered months before he was murdered, he talked about the “if” faith and the “though” faith. King said the “if” faith says that I will be faithful to my mission as long as things are going well, as long as it is easy. The “though” faith on the other hand says, “Though things go wrong; though evil is temporarily triumphant; though sickness comes and the cross looms, neverthless I’m gonna believe anyway and I’m gonna have faith anyway; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof, the Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” [5] Vincent (also known for his sermons) urged his colleagues to “always be very courageous” because otherwise “that cursed spirit of laziness gives up at the smallest contradiction: there’s not the slightest discomfort it doesn’t avoid, no responsibility it doesn’t fear, no satisfaction it doesn’t seek; this self-love ruins everything.” [6]

I am amazed by the courage of people. The courage of people who are responsible for others, who have many depending on them. Also, the courage of those from whom no one expects (or to whom no one gives) much. The courage of those who people expect to give up. I am amazed when these people get up each day, when they refuse to give up, when they face their fears and doubts and the accusations and misunderstandings of others. We ask for the courage of that “though” faith in what we know is right, in the good we can do, in the good DePaul can do.

For Reflection:

What speaks to you most powerfully about the legacy of King in these times for yourself and for DePaul as a community? Where do you find overlap in the legacies of King and Vincent?

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

[1] Jesus, in that Christmas was a national holiday. Columbus Day was made a federal holiday with legislation signed in 1968 after King’s assassination, to be observed starting in 1971.

[2] Jenn Hatfield, “How Public Attitudes Toward Martin Luther King Jr. Have Changed Since the 1960s,” Pew Research Center, August 10, 2023, https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/08/10/how-public-attitudes-toward-martin-luther-king-jr-have-changed-since-the-1960s/.

[3] Jeffrey M. Jones, “Americans Divided on Whether King’s Dream Has Been Realized,” Gallup, August 26, 2011, https://news.gallup.com/poll/149201/Americans-Divided-Whether-King-Dream-Realized.aspx.

[4] “CBS News Poll: U.S. Involvement in Vietnam,” CBS News, January 28, 2018, https://www.cbsnews.com/news/cbs-news-poll-u-s-involvement-in-vietnam/.

[5] Martin Luther King Jr., “But If Not,” audio recording, Ebenezer Baptist Church, November 5, 1967, Atlanta, GA, Internet Archive, https://archive.org/details/MlkButIfNot.

[6] Conference 131, Repetition of Prayer, August 10, 1655, CCD, 11:216. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/.

Love Shows Up in Community

Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center

Photo by Mike Labrum, Unsplash.com

“I believe that you work with one another to grow in perfection in keeping with the divine plan. All the actions of our lives can serve this purpose even those which might appear destined to withdraw you from that intimate union with God which you so ardently desire. Very often this union is established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God and not as we would wish to imagine it.” — Louise de Marillac[1]

When I began my role at DePaul in the summer of 2017, I was excited but also nervous. As an associate director, I felt responsible to represent the Writing Center well. As I started attending meetings with people from departments across campus, I felt intimidated; everyone knew so much and knew one another quite well. What could I contribute to this tight-knit community as someone so new, practically still an outsider?

Fast forward to autumn quarter 2024, which was perhaps my busiest quarter to date in my time at DePaul. Now in my eighth academic year, I found this quarter offered numerous ways in which I could readily contribute as part of the vibrant DePaul community: teaching two courses on top of my full-time staff role, serving as chair of the Communication Committee for Staff Council, and completing training as a staff professional for FY@broad with Study Abroad. While these commitments meant significant time and seemingly innumerable meetings and tasks added to my calendar, they also shared something else in common. These opportunities, alongside my daily work in the Writing Center collaborating with colleagues and supporting our student employees, were purposefully busy.

I define purposefully busy as those tasks that are more than productivity; rather, they are people-centered activities that enable me to serve others through the work. All the while, I, too, am being fed through my interactions with students, faculty, and staff who offer care and collaboration. As Saint Louise de Marillac says in the quote above, we must work with one another to fulfill our purposes.

In my life outside of work, I was experiencing emotional difficulty during autumn quarter. I walked through the final denouement of a long-term relationship in which I’d long held hope for a shared future. The fullness of my days attending to the numerous purposes I engaged in at DePaul offered a meaningful focus, but the grief of loss lingered in the background, at times coming full force in my mind.

Then, grief showed up in perhaps its most recognizable form: on November 5, my Uncle Roger died. It was the day of the presidential election, a fraught, precipitous day for each of us, and all I could think was “My uncle died today.” While he had been in ill health for quite some time, it was one of those times where things moved quickly, in a matter of days, from hospice care to his passing. My uncle and his immediate family live in northeast Ohio; my closest family members live in the suburbs of Chicago. So, on a weekday, it wasn’t feasible to be together. I didn’t have anyone in the immediate vicinity or in the schedule of my day to hug me. I was deeply sad and felt rather alone.

But when grief shows up, so, too, does love.

In the days following my uncle’s passing, I shared with colleagues about the loss; I received more than one hug. I even shared with one of my classes, and a room full of students offered looks and words of compassion and comfort. On November 13, I attended the Gathering of Remembrance hosted by the Division of Mission and Ministry. While I feel like a well-connected DePaul community member at this point, this was the first time I had attended. I’d considered going in past years but hadn’t been able to fit it into my schedule. This year also required some schedule adjustment to make it work, but now that I was experiencing loss, this special event came just when I needed it most.

At the event, I saw many faces I know and many I have come to cherish. Most were people from various parts of my “extra-curricular” life at DePaul, that is, not part of my official job description in the Writing Center but connected to me through engagement in our community. The staff members from Mission and Ministry hosted the event with such reverence, grace, and hospitality. The love in the room, even amid our tears, was palpable and comforting. At that point, I hadn’t yet seen anyone in my family since my uncle’s passing, but there I was surrounded by my Vincentian family nonetheless.

My purposefully busy autumn quarter ended with great fulfillment for me. My students were largely successful in their courses, and grades have been submitted. The Communications Committee of Staff Council has collaboratively published three newsletters to date. The training for FY@broad is complete, and I am ready to begin winter quarter with preparing an intrepid group of students for our trip to Ireland over spring break. I continued therapy and reflection, and my heart has started to recover. I said yes to the beautiful invitation for community when faced with loss.

The people within my Vincentian family and the DePaul community are the throughline—the accompaniment we offer to one another is beyond what I ever could have imagined when I first came here. It must be, as Saint Louise believed, that our unions to God and to one another are “… established in us through no action of our own in a manner known only to God.” God knew what he was doing in bringing me to DePaul and in bringing the DePaul community to flourish in my life.

Considerations for Reflection:

  • How is being purposefully busy different from just being busy? Do you see yourself engaging in being purposefully busy?
  • How have you experienced love in times of grief?

Reflection by: Erin Herrmann, Associate Director, Writing Center

[1] L.531B, “To Sister Carcireux,” July 18 (1656), Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, 514. Available at:  https://via.library.depaul.edu/ldm/.

Wrestling with God

Exactly eighteen years ago, on this day, December 9th, I became the first woman in my family to chant publicly from the Torah. I still remember the opening words like a catchy song.

In Vayishlach, the Torah portion for this week, there are two brothers—twins—Jacob and Esau, who never really get along. One is smooth, one is hairy. One is scheming, one is brusque. In fact, they wrestle together in the womb. Jacob tricks his nearly blind father into giving him the blessing that belongs to Esau as the firstborn. The brothers’ relationship is a disaster from the get-go.

Jacob eventually settles in Canaan, with status, material wealth, and many offspring. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps because he truly misses his brother (the Torah often lets us infer emotional subtext), Jacob invites Esau to reconcile with him. The night before Esau’s arrival, Jacob finds himself alone, wrestling with an angel.

Hold up. Wrestling with an angel?

Was he hallucinating? Was he having a bad case of sleep paralysis?

In the Torah, it says that Jacob came panim-el-panim (Hebrew for “face-to-face”) with God.

What does it mean to come face-to-face with God? When was the last time you felt God’s presence? Was it during a moment of tranquility, connection, solitude, despair? Do you ever wrestle with God? Perhaps with the concept of God itself?

There are, of course, many interpretations, from rabbis and scholars, about what Jacob endured that night. But here’s mine: Jacob, alone in the dark, finally faces himself. He wrestles with his conscience. He admits to himself that he has, in some way, wronged his brother.

One of the Vincentian values we espouse at DePaul is humility. And not just humility when it comes to our successes or material possessions, but humility in the context of our personal and communal relationships. Saint Vincent de Paul writes, “You must ask God to give you power to fight against the sin of pride which is your greatest enemy—the root of all that is evil, and the failure of all that is good.”[1]

“Sin” and “failure” are charged words that don’t always sit well with me. But Saint Vincent had a good point. Holding onto our pride—nursing past resentments, harboring the belief that we are always right—detracts from our ability to empathize and see the humanity in those who hold different perspectives from us.

It’s a vicious cycle: when we can’t see the humanity in others, it’s hard for others to see the humanity in us.

The morning after Jacob wrestles with God, Esau approaches him in the desert, and, in an unexpected turn of events, forgives him. The brothers fall into one another’s arms, weeping. In a deep act of humility, Esau declines the many gifts Jacob offers him, but Jacob insists, telling his brother that seeing his face is like “seeing the face of God.”[2]

Panim-el-panim. Face-to-face. We can only really glimpse the divine in others when we come face-to-face with ourselves. Because we only exist in relationship. Never alone. And there are always angels.

Reflection Questions

  1. When was the last time you came face-to-face with someone who deeply disagreed with you?
  2. When was the last time you came face-to-face with yourself?

Reflection by: Kayla Schneider-Smith, Assistant Director, Religious Diversity & Pastoral Care and Jewish Life Chaplain

 

[1] “St. Vincent de Paul—You Must Ask God to Give You Power to Fight Against the Sin of Pride,” Catholic Digest Magazine, 14 October 2021, https://www.catholicdigest.com/from-the-magazine/quiet-moment/‌st vincent-depaul-you-must ask-god-to-give-you-power-to-fight-against-the-sin-of-pride/.

[2] Genesis 33:10, The Contemporary Torah (Jewish Publication Society, 2006), https://‌www.‌sefaria.‌org/‌Genesis.33.11?lang=bi&aliyot=0.

A Season of Hope, Peace, Love and Joy

Reflection by: Rev. Diane Dardón, Director, Pastoral Care and Religious Diversity

Several weeks ago, a crowd gathered to celebrate the holidays at DePaul’s annual tree lighting ceremony. This year the celebration continued as hundreds made their way from the tree lighting to the Lincoln Park Student Center to participate in Holidays Around the World. As part of DePaul’s commitment to honoring and supporting the spiritual and religious dimensions of our community, this event gave students an opportunity to learn about the multifaith and interconvictional traditions that so many within the university community embrace. Nearly 600 students engaged in activities or sampled the holiday foods from a multitude of faith or spiritual traditions. One of the Christian traditions that was highlighted in Holidays Around the World was Advent.

As a child, I loved Advent! I did not understand that Advent was celebrated in many Christian churches on the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. I didn’t realize that this was a Christian liturgical season that marked the beginning of the Christian calendar. I had no clue that the four candles on the Advent wreath that were lit week by week each carried an Advent message of hope, peace, love, or joy. Instead, I loved Advent because I knew it meant that we needed to get ready for Christmas: trees needed to be cut down and decorated, cookies needed to be baked and iced, and lists of Christmas wishes needed to be sent off to dear Santa. I knew that when the Advent wreath magically appeared at the front of the church, we had a lot to do in preparation for Christmas.

For Christian communities that embrace Advent, it is, indeed, a time of preparing for Christmas. But the preparation is not about wrapping gifts or putting up decorations. Instead, Advent is known as a season for preparing one’s heart for the birth of Christ. And more importantly, it is a time of waiting and watching for the coming of the Kingdom of God, a time when all will know hope, peace, love, and joy.

Unfortunately, as we begin this Advent season, we are also deeply embedded in a season of tumult and strife. In these times, many may find themselves watching and waiting for the things that Advent promises but struggling because of a sense of hopelessness, a keen awareness of a world that is not engulfed in peace, and disappointment because joy in a hurting world seems impossible and love for neighbor is thwarted by differences or indifference. It is in times such as these that “God offers us the saints both for our imitation and comfort. We can imitate their spiritual strengths and take comfort in their difficulties.”[1]

For the Vincentian community, we look to Saint Vincent and Saint Louise and are reminded that they, too, lived in tumultuous times. During their lives, Paris was growing daily with masses of people flooding into the city. There was political unrest, with royalty being forced to flee their homes and responsibilities. Invasions and social unrest caused strain on the military. Religious differences caused great schisms among the people. Natural disasters, such as tremendous flooding, increased the societal issues of

poverty, homelessness, crime, and overflowing prisons. Amid this tumult, Vincent and Louise lived in hope and committed their waking moments to helping bring peace, joy, and love into their world. They worked tirelessly to be the very ones who ushered in a new Kingdom, a transformed world.

In this season of watching, waiting, and preparing for a transformed world, we are encouraged to imitate Vincent and Louise. As imitators, we do not lose heart but instead become agents of transformation, encouraging hope in ourselves and others, working toward peace in our communities and the world, and offering love and spreading joy daily.

Things to ponder:

  1. How can you transform your own world? Where do you find hope, and how can you share that hope with others?
  2. What can you do to create peace in your world or your community?
  3. How can you express love through your daily actions? Where do you find joy, and how can you share that joy?

Reflection by: Rev. Diane Dardón, Director, Pastoral Care and Religious Diversity

 

[1] Quoted from John E. Rybolt, C.M., Advent and Christmas Wisdom from St. Vincent de Paul (Liguori, MO: Liguori Publications, 2012), 128 pp.

Welcome Joyfully the Opportunity to Serve

Written by: Euan Hague, PhD, Vincent de Paul Professor of Geography and Director of the School of Public Service and the Student Urban Research Corps. Recipient of the Cortelyou-Lowery Award from the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences in 2024.

Group photo of SURC and community members from the SURC Showcase, September 2024

In a letter to Monsieur Horcholle written in June 1650, Vincent stated, “I will always welcome joyfully any opportunity that comes my way to be of service to you.” [1] Service to others runs through DePaul in all its aspects and operations. But what does it mean to serve, and how should service to others be pursued? In over twenty years as a faculty member, I have put service to the community at the center of my own teaching and scholarship. The challenge is always the relationship between the “opportunities that come my way to be of service,” the manner in which we serve others, and the coordination of that work. Community collaborations are not one-off meetings; they need consistent negotiation and management, both with the organization and with the students working on projects. Such work is itself service, because through it we channel the personalism and Vincentian commitment that “it is not enough to do good. It must be done well.” [2]

In 2021, with support from an external funder, I conceived of the Student Urban Research Corps, which I now lead. It is housed in the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences. Each year, a group of fifteen to twenty undergraduate and graduate students take on service projects to bring their skills into practice, working on community-defined research projects that assist organizations in their missions. From helping Lucky Jefferson to assess the publishing landscape faced by Black and other ethnic minority authors, to mapping the impactful events delivered by Kids Enjoy Exercise Now (KEEN), in the past three years SURC projects have aided a dozen community organizations. In some instances, a community organization reaches out, not knowing quite what they want or how to achieve it, but knowing that something is needed, and that they would like DePaul’s support to attain it. In those cases, I meet with the organization, listen, learn about their needs and community, and make suggestions about the capacities and skills sets that our students can bring to understanding an issue. In other cases, I return to an organization that I’ve partnered with in the past, or an organization that I have become familiar with through other interactions and ask what projects would help to build capacity. In these conversations, I echo Madame de Gondi’s asking of Vincent, “What must be done?” [3]

Prof. Hague working with students: Lacy Wright, who is seated, and Chris Impellizeri, who is standing. Photo by Keeton Holder/DePaul University

Communities and their members know about themselves. Most do not want academics to impose agendas or questions on them. Rather, we serve by offering help to answer questions, to collaborate on finding solutions, and to enhance the capacity of groups to make decisions about their own futures. Students learn through engaging with organizations and interacting with the community members who have questions to ask and conversations to pursue. “Being able to work with and for community members and organizations through SURC has been a great opportunity to participate in social science research that is truly community-driven,” says Beata Neidhoefer (LAS ’25). “As a sociology major interested in research, I’m wary of the history of social science research as a process often detached from real peoples’ interests and needs. SURC provides a uniquely direct connection between community needs and student researchers’ skills, enabling us to use what we learn in the classroom in an applied, practical way while building technical and transferable skills and building professional relationships with community members.”

Whether DePaul faculty bring the community, through its members, onto DePaul’s campus, or go out, like Vincent, into the community to serve, the common aspect is that it takes work and an investment of time and energy from all parties. It takes time to build trust and collaborations, sometimes months or even years, and it takes time to work on projects that serve both the outcomes of the community and enhance student learning. Yet, this service follows another of Vincent’s calls to action: “Let’s work, let’s work, let’s go to the assistance of the poor country people who are waiting for us.” [4] Although I don’t think underserved and underrepresented communities are necessarily “waiting for us” in 2024, the call to go to assistance still resonates. We cannot only wait for opportunities to serve to come to us. We should seek out places where we can help, where our expertise and resources can make a difference in neighborhoods and communities across Chicago and beyond. Academic institutions are often derided as ivory towers where detached faculty and students talk and write esoterically about subjects. DePaul is different. Our mission, with its commitment to give “special attention to including underserved and underrepresented communities,” is central to the identity of the institution, which means it is central to the work we do as faculty, staff, and students at DePaul. To serve means to collaborate, to learn from residents and community groups, and to share DePaul’s resources, skills and expertise, with both professionalism and personalism.

“You can give me no greater consolation nor render greater service to your neighbor than to place yourself in a condition to serve him for a long time,” Vincent wrote to Jean Martin in May 1648. [5] DePaul has been serving Chicago since 1898. We and our students continue to serve.

Reflection Questions:

  • What does it mean to “welcome joyfully any opportunity that comes [your] way to be of service” in your work at DePaul?
  • How does your commitment to Vincent’s demand to go to the assistance of the poor reflect in your career at DePaul?

Reflection by: Euan Hague, PhD, Vincent de Paul Professor of Geography and Director of the School of Public Service and the Student Urban Research Corps. He received the Cortelyou-Lowery Award from the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences in 2024.

[1] Letter 1230a, “To Monsieur Horcholle, in Neufchâtel,” June 28, 1650, CCD, 4:41. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/29/.

[2] This popular quote cited often at DePaul is a rephrasing of Vincent’s words. For the full quote, see: Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” November 25,1657, CCD, 11:389. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/.

[3] This is also a popular rephrasing. For the full quote, see: Conference 1, “The Vocation of a Missioner,” CCD, 11:3.

[4] Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” CCD, 11:391.

[5] Letter 1037, “To Jean Martin, in Genoa,” May 22, 1648, CCD, 3:312. Available online at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/28/.

Navigating These Moments: A Call to Compassion

Written by: Victoria Van Kirk Pride, Associate Director of Housing Operations

As we approach the results of a pivotal election, it feels like we’re all holding our breath—like the feeling of waiting for the “L” during rush hour on a crammed platform, surrounded by a vibrant mix of humanity and a soundtrack of varied conversations. Each of us comes from different stops along the transit map, carrying our hopes, convictions, goals, and perhaps a touch of anxiety—all striving to reach our destinations while keeping in step with the pace of the city and one another.

Amid this swirling energy and the heightened stress of the times, we are reminded of Saint Vincent de Paul’s words: “It is not enough to do good. It must be done well.” [1] This quote serves as a powerful call to action, urging us not only to act but to do so with intention. In these uncertain times, responding with compassion and understanding is essential. A little kindness can be one of the most effective antidotes to the emotions of the moment, helping us navigate the challenges we face together.

Our DePaul community thrives on its diversity, weaving together a rich tapestry of voices and experiences. Regardless of the election’s outcome, each of us plays a vital role in picking up the pieces and fostering meaningful conversations—we have to take care of one another. Recognizing and valuing our diverse perspectives is crucial, especially for those who may feel marginalized. Sharing an hour for coffee with a classmate who sees things differently, or supporting those who feel sidelined, can create real change. These small gestures add up and are like the stops on our beloved “L” line—each one helps map out our journey, guiding us through the complexities of our shared experience.

Let’s acknowledge that this election cycle has felt long and dramatic. The constant barrage of news headlines and social media clips makes it hard to sift through the noise for substance. It’s normal to feel a whirlwind of emotions—anxiety, excitement, disbelief—especially when our perspectives differ. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, take a moment to breathe deeply and honor those feelings. Go for a walk in Lincoln Park, journal your thoughts to process any lingering frustration, or strike up a Teams chat or text thread with a DePaul friend or two to lift your mood or make you laugh—surely you can find a hilarious GIF to share apropos to the times we are in.

As we navigate this uncertain terrain, let’s remind ourselves of the Dalai Lama’s wisdom in quoting a favorite West African proverb: “If you think you’re too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” This somewhat humorous reminder underscores that even the smallest actions or intentions can create impacts or ripples of change, especially during challenging times when every effort to engage, support, and uplift one another matters more than ever. Let’s turn to one another for support and understanding to connect our personal experiences to collective action.

So, regardless of the outcome, let us reflect on our roles here in our Vincentian community. How can you embody the spirit of Vincent in your daily interactions? What steps can you take to foster understanding and rebuild respectful connections within your circles? Share your ideas with friends, join a campus group focused on dialogue, or even write a reflection on your experience this election season. Every voice matters in shaping our community.

Together, we can embrace the challenges ahead, finding strength in our shared values and humor, reminding ourselves that while adversity is inevitable, our response is a choice that shapes our community.

Reflection Questions:

  1. How can I actively contribute to creating a more inclusive community through and after the election?
  2. In what ways can I approach conversations with empathy and a bit of warmth?
  3. What small, intentional actions can I take this week to support those who feel overlooked?

Reflection by: Victoria Van Kirk Pride, Associate Director of Housing Operations

[1]  This popular quote at DePaul is a slight rephrasing of Vincent’s words. For the full quote, see: Conference 177, “Repetition of Prayer,” November 25,1657, CCD, 11:389. Available at: https://via.library.depaul.edu/vincentian_ebooks/37/.

A Vincentian Example For this Election Season

Written by: Tom Judge, Assistant Director and Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

Recently, it occurred to me that I have been spending much of my time during autumn 2024 in one of three ways. The first is the most typical: trying to keep up with the rapid pace of fall quarter at DePaul, with programs, Zoom meetings, deadlines, and emails following one after the other in a familiar cycle. The second is the most sublime: relishing the sunshine, mild temperatures, and beautiful colors we’ve experienced during this past month. Has there ever been, in recent memory at least, such an uninterrupted string of easy autumn days in Chicago? The third way I’ve been spending my time this fall is the way I like the least. It is unwelcome and worrisome. Lately, like many, I’ve been spending a lot of my bandwidth feeling anxious about the upcoming election. While reading the news and talking with friends, but mostly when I’m alone, I am distressed over our current circumstances. I ruminate over questions like, what are the latest headlines and poll numbers? What will happen if my candidates lose? Is there more I should be doing? And how did we, as a society, even get to this place?

Sometimes, after sitting with these thoughts and feelings for too long, I try to open my heart to God and ask for a little relief and guidance. I may even seek out a wisdom figure, someone who is likely to have a helpful insight or has made it through similar challenges before. That is what led me, several evenings ago, to Frédéric Ozanam (1813–1853). Ozanam is a member of the Vincentian Family, less well-known than Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, but his legacy as a brilliant scholar and prophetic voice of charity and justice during a time of unrest makes him relevant to this moment.

In a short but eventful life, Ozanam was a lawyer, professor, and journalist as well as a devoted son, husband, and father. Formed by the Catholic faith, at a young age he and some friends founded a charitable organization based on Christian principles that engaged with the poor of Paris. The group became known as the Society of St. Vincent de Paul after they adopted the patron saint of charity as their model and inspiration. Now, over 170 years since it began, the Society of St. Vincent de Paul has almost one million members who provide service to those most in need throughout the world. [1]

In a time of rising class struggles and agitation for reform, Ozanam did not advocate for charity alone. He also called out for justice. He declared that “the order of society is based on two virtues: justice and charity,” and he linked these imperatives with his faith through the use of a familiar Gospel parable. Ozanam wrote, “Charity is the Samaritan who pours oil on the wounds of the traveler who has been attacked. It is justice’s role to prevent the attacks.” [2] Ozanam believed in a society based on the common good; advocating for the sacrifice of each for the advantage of all. During the Industrial Revolution, when urban poverty and harsh working conditions became more widespread and visible, he began to develop arguments in favor of basic rights like a natural (or living) wage, labor unions, and social security. In making these arguments, and grounding them in the teachings of Christ, Ozanam helped nourish the ideas that grew into the corpus of Catholic Social Teaching. Ozanam believed in a society whose end is love. And, he saw democracy, infused with the ideals of liberty, inclusion, equality, and human dignity, as the best form of government to achieve this end.

Of course, Ozanam’s call for reform attracted fierce resistance from the elite throughout France as well as within the Church. He knew this. However, true to his faith, Ozanam gently encouraged those who agreed with him to learn to defend their convictions without hating their adversaries. “All my life,” he wrote, “I have followed the poetry of love in preference to the poetry of anger. I will not change now.” [3]

I take heart from the life and wisdom of Frédéric Ozanam. I believe in his vision of a society where charity, justice, and human dignity are valued above all else, and democracy as a form of government is honored and upheld. I am mindful that he was active during a time of great human progress but also tremendous change, conflict, and social pressure. As this election season draws towards its culmination, I hold Ozanam’s example close. Undoubtedly, he experienced personal struggles and lived through widespread unrest. Yet he persevered. In fact, his faith and his commitment to charity and justice seemed only to grow stronger as his eventful, impactful, yet all-too-brief, life unfolded. In its wake is a legacy that informs and inspires even to this day.

Invitation for Reflection:

How is your spirit as we draw closer to Election Day? Can you draw any inspiration or insight from our Vincentian mission and heritage?

Consider Ozanam’s twin imperatives: charity and justice. How do these resonate with you? How are you devoting your time, energy, or resources toward them?


Reflection by: Tom Judge, Assistant Director and Chaplain, Faculty and Staff Engagement, Division of Mission and Ministry

[1] “About Us,” International Confederation of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, https://‌www.‌ssvpglobal.‌org/‌about-us/.

[2] “Frédéric Ozanam Quotes,” The Vincentian Formation Network, accessed October 23, 2024, https://‌vincentians.com/‌en/quotes-collection/frederic-ozanam-quotes/.

[3] Ibid.

At the Heart of Our Mission

Recently, I was asked, “What is at the heart of DePaul and its mission?” After a brief pause, I responded that, for me, what best captures the heart of our mission is the concept frequently referenced here: Vincentian personalism.

In my thinking and experience, Vincentian personalism is the foundational building block for all else that we understand our Vincentian mission to be about as an institution. However, as frequently as the term is used, I believe it requires further explanation and nuance if it is to be understood in its fullness. So, bear with me. As this is the last regular Mission Monday for the academic year, I hope you will permit me a longer reflection on this topic … you do have all summer to read it!

I put Vincentian personalism at the heart of our mission because I clearly see its vital relationship to all of mission’s dimensions that so many care about. For example, I can see how the following flow from and are sustained by Vincentian personalism: effective education, caring and inclusive community, collaboration, service, social and environmental justice, systemic change, and sustainability.

On its own accord and most simply, Vincentian personalism involves recognizing and caring for the unique personhood and sacred dignity of the other. In the concrete and everyday realities of our life and work, it demands that the person before us be treated respectfully, even reverently. It is about affirming their unique personhood and vocation, understanding their story, and appreciating the way they contribute to our community and world through who they are and what they do. From our Vincentian perspective, the idea of “radical hospitality” naturally stems from a focus on Vincentian personalism, as does our understanding of inclusive community and the roots of our work around diversity and equity. We are distinguished in our Vincentian mission by creating and sustaining a culture of care for each other, first and foremost. All else grows from this foundation.

While Vincent de Paul didn’t use the term, at DePaul University we trace the concept of Vincentian personalism back to his recognition of the sacred dignity of those who were poor and abandoned and to his faith-inspired belief that they deserved to be treated honorably and with great care. As practiced by Vincent, personalism requires attending to the obstacles that prevent a person from flourishing and that prevent their God-given potential from being realized. Barriers may be systemic at the societal level, but they may also be intra- or interpersonal in nature. Therefore, Vincent’s example of personalism included attending to the spiritual and physical needs of those he sought to accompany and recognizing and affirming their unique personhood.

Theologically, from a Vincentian Catholic perspective, this commitment is rooted in modeling God’s love, the love of Jesus, and the work and movement of the Holy Spirit in our lives. God always invites us into a way of being which fosters and embodies loving and life-giving relationships and systems, and that heals and restores relationships that are broken, hurting, or causing harm.

History suggests that the concept of Vincentian personalism was first coined at DePaul by a Jewish member of our community, Howard Sulkin, founding dean of DePaul’s School of New Learning (now the School of Continuing and Professional Studies). In trying to capture the heart of the Vincentian mission through his Jewish lens and experience, Sulkin connected Vincentian personalism to an I-Thou relationship, a concept developed by renowned philosopher Martin Buber. Buber contrasted an I-Thou relationship with an I-it relationship, or one which merely objectifies others rather than honoring their distinctiveness and dignity. Interestingly, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., also grounded his own philosophy in personalism, apparently deriving it in a substantial way from Buber.

COVID and the work-from-home realities emerging since 2020 have made cultivating relationships in the workplace more challenging, and therefore, we have learned we must be more intentional in attending to them. Human connection and the business outcomes of effective relationships are still as valid and as needed as ever. When Vincentian personalism is remembered and reinforced at DePaul in how we go about our work and our relationships with one another, it is deeply impactful in terms of the quality of the workplace and the effectiveness of our work.

When Vincentian personalism remains primary, our relationships with one another are more likely to be loving, life-giving, and joyful. We remember that we are ultimately a community of human beings seeking to do something meaningful and good together, and that we are dependent on each other to do so. Our work involves actively and intentionally creating environments and ways of operating that affirm, support, and at times, challenge each other to be our best. With Vincentian personalism, we recognize our capacity for compassion for those who struggle, who feel on the outside, or who need additional encouragement or assistance.

Vincentian personalism most frequently plays out in small ways and in regular practices that help us to remember and reinforce the centrality of relationships in our lives. It may be practiced in how we greet one another, by thoughtfully remembering to check in with those who may be struggling, or caring enough to ask them about their needs and hopes. It may come in building regular time and space within our teams and among our colleagues to stay caught up on the goings-on of each other’s lives and work projects, or for moments of deeper personal reflection and sharing. Or perhaps, it may mean that advising or managerial sessions go beyond the surface level to also include a recognition of the other’s unique personhood and their deeper sense of vocation in relation to their academic choices or career pursuits.

Vincentian personalism also involves a commitment to look deeper, beneath statistics and headlines to the nuances of individual human lives and stories, or to look systemically to find ways of operating that serve the needs of those who are often excluded. It invites us to actively collaborate with others in meaningful ways, rather than go it alone. It might surface in holding one another accountable to agreed-upon expectations, whether for a class or job. For us, Vincentian personalism means acknowledging that everyone is a whole person living a whole life, and that their time at DePaul is just one part of that larger whole.

Here at DePaul, the heart of our mission is centered in Vincentian personalism. If you’d like to learn more about it, there are many past reflections on Vincentian personalism on our Way of Wisdom blog site. (It’s been a popular theme over the years.) For a summer reading list on the topic, you might also try entering other related terms into the search box on the site, such as relationships, community, care, or charity. (Or just explore your own themes of interest.)

Now, let’s put the question to you to ponder over the summer: What do you think is at the heart of DePaul and our Vincentian mission? [If you’d like to write a blog post detailing your answer this summer, let me know! 😊]


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