logo
Pope Leo XIV's Alma Mater Has Message for Everyone

Pope Leo XIV's Alma Mater Has Message for Everyone

Yahoo09-05-2025

Pope Leo XIV was elected on Thursday, becoming the 267th leader of the Catholic church. His election is historic, as he becomes the first American pope in the church's history.
Leo XIV, born Robert Prevost in Chicago, attended Villanova University in Philadelphia. The school is one of the top Catholic universities in all of America, and it released a statement after he was chosen for the papacy.
'As an Augustinian Catholic institution, we celebrate this significant day for our University community and the global Church," said University President Rev. Peter M. Donohue.
"Villanova, built on the teachings of St. Augustine, has always been grounded in advancing a deeper understanding of the fundamental relationship between faith and reason—between spirituality and wisdom.
With today's election of His Holiness, Pope Leo XIV, I cannot help but reflect on what his Augustinian papacy will mean to our University community and our world. Known for his humility, gentle spirit, prudence and warmth, Pope Leo XIV's leadership offers an opportunity to reaffirm our commitment to our educational mission.'
Pope Leo XIV completed his undergraduate studies at Villanova, earning a bachelor's degree in mathematics in 1977. That same year, he joined the Order of St. Augustine.
In 1982, he received a Master's of Divinity from Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and was ordained in the same year. He spent over 20 years in Peru as a bishop, among other roles, and became a naturalized citizen of the nation during his time there.
'Peace be with you all. Dear brothers and sisters, this is the first greeting of the Risen Christ, the good shepherd who gave his life for the flock of God," the new pope said as he emerged to a balcony at the Vatican, addressing thousands in the square below.
"I too would like this greeting of peace to enter your hearts to reach your families to all people everywhere to all the earth: peace be with you.'
As the world prepares for the first American pope, we'll see what the future has in store for the Catholic church and for Pope Leo XIV in his papacy.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

This Father's Day, remember the invisible weight that many dads carry
This Father's Day, remember the invisible weight that many dads carry

The Hill

time7 hours ago

  • The Hill

This Father's Day, remember the invisible weight that many dads carry

This Father's Day, many families will fire up the grill, hand out neckties or whiskey bottles, and celebrate the steady presence of the men who raised them. We honor the sacrifices dads make — their hard work, protective instincts, quiet love. But for many fathers, especially those who've served in uniform or carried other unseen burdens, the greatest gift might be something simple but rare: a moment of real understanding. I was 24 years old when I led an infantry platoon into Iraq. We breached the berm on the Kuwaiti border and pushed into cities where the future of a war — and our own identities — was uncertain. When I came home, I moved into a career on Wall Street, grew my family, and tried to become the man I thought a father should be: strong, silent, dependable. But the weight I carried — the invisible injuries of war, the trauma of a home invasion, the slow unraveling of self — never quite left me. I tried to bury it. And for a while, I did. But what gets buried finds its own way back to the surface. Sometimes in anger. Sometimes in avoidance. Sometimes in moments when your child looks at you, needing you to be fully present — and you realize you're not even in the room emotionally. I tell that story in 'Downriver: Memoir of a Warrior Poet,' not just to make sense of my own past, but to show how trauma doesn't just haunt soldiers. It follows them into fatherhood, into careers, into marriages, and into quiet moments at the dinner table. PTSD isn't always loud. Sometimes it's a subtle distance. A hollow stare. A coldness you can't explain. And it isn't limited to veterans. Over the last 25 years, American families have lived through an almost unrelenting series of shocks: 9/11 and the wars that followed. The financial collapse of 2008. A global pandemic. Social unrest. A mental health crisis that's no longer creeping but roaring into every corner of American life. While much of the public conversation around mental health focuses — rightfully — on teens and younger adults, there's a whole generation of men, many of them fathers, who were taught a different rulebook: don't flinch, don't cry, don't break. For years, I followed that script. I had it all under control. I led men in battle. I briefed corporate executives. I kept moving. But inside, I was unraveling. By the time I sat down across from a counselor in 2011, I didn't know how to say the simplest words: I'm not okay. And yet, saying those words was the beginning of a new life. I'm not here to argue that all dads are silently suffering. Many are thriving, giving love and wisdom and presence to their families. But I know too many men — good men — who carry burdens they never speak of. Some have seen war. Some have battled addiction. Some were shaped by absent fathers of their own, and now quietly wonder if they're failing their kids in invisible ways. Others simply feel lost in a culture that doesn't ask how they're really doing — only whether they're getting the job done. That silence has consequences. When pain goes unspoken, it often leaks out in the wrong places: in strained marriages, in absentee parenting, in emotional distance. But it doesn't have to be that way. Father's Day is a celebration. But it can also be an invitation — to start a conversation, to check in with the men we love, to offer them more than a thank you. Offer presence. Offer curiosity. Offer permission. Ask Dad how he's doing — really. Ask what he remembers about growing up. Ask what parts of himself he's still working on. Ask what he's proud of. Listen, even if it's awkward. Even if he deflects. Because healing doesn't start with fixing something. It starts with seeing it. With making space. When I wrote my book, I wasn't trying to be a perfect example. I was trying to be an honest one. I wanted my children to know that I had struggled — and that I had come through the other side. That there's strength in breaking, and deeper strength in rebuilding. And I wanted other fathers to know: you're not alone. You don't have to carry it all by yourself. Whether you wore a uniform or just wore the weight of the world, your wounds are real. And they are worthy of care. This Father's Day, honor the dads who've shown up. But also hold space for the ones who are trying — sometimes silently — to keep going. There are cracks in all of us. That's not weakness. That's life. As Leonard Cohen wrote, 'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.' Happy Father's Day — to the men who've held the line for their families, and to those finally learning how to lay their burdens down. Ryan McDermott is an Iraq War veteran, recipient of the Bronze Star medal, and author of the award-winning and critically-acclaimed book, 'Downriver: Memoir of a Warrior Poet.' His views do not reflect those of his employer or any affiliated organization.

Column: Warren Smith left a shining legacy in Aurora
Column: Warren Smith left a shining legacy in Aurora

Chicago Tribune

time8 hours ago

  • Chicago Tribune

Column: Warren Smith left a shining legacy in Aurora

Thirteen years ago, I wrote the story of Aurora's Warren Smith, who was a retired Catholic school principal and also the retired Aurora Area Superintendent of Catholic Schools. The editor appropriately titled the story as 'A Good Shepherd of Catholic Education in Aurora.' Mr. Smith (he will always be Mr. to students and to teachers who worked under his leadership) passed away in December of 2023. There were no public tributes or media stories at the time of his passing, and he probably would have vetoed any such attempt. As I checked through old school records and talked with people who had worked with him, an amazing story of his life's work and dedication began to open up. The persistent theme of his many years of leadership became obvious: he presided over times of great change in our society, and particularly in Catholic education. In fact, the title of a Beacon-News story in 2018 was 'Change is the norm for Aurora's Catholic Schools.' Mr. Smith's career began as a social studies teacher at Our Lady of Good Counsel School in Aurora in 1963. His leadership qualities emerged and, at the age of 28, he became the principal of that school in 1967. As I talked with him for the 2018 story, he mentioned that he began noticing changes soon after assuming his leadership role. 'During the 1960s, and because of Vatican II, some conservative Catholics who didn't want change may have felt pushed out,' he said. 'In 1964, enrollment at our school stood at 800, but around 1970, it began a transition to two rooms per grade instead of three. 'Affordability started to become an issue, and a great decline in the number of teaching Sisters played a big part in the downturn,' he said. Lay teachers were needed to fill that void, and the expense of salaries became an important issue. Budgeting and funding for all of the Catholic schools became an important change starting in the 1970s, and a downward trend in enrollment began. Mr. Smith, along with other administrators and lay leaders, faced this as a new challenge. With a certain amount of bravery, they forged ahead with determination to keep Catholic schools alive and vibrant. Not having enough on his plate, and while continuing as school principal, he was appointed Aurora Area Superintendent of Catholic Schools in 1985, and continued in that role until 1997. His scope immediately increased to his being the leader of nine elementary schools and also Aurora Central Catholic High School. Change was the norm of those years—changes in the church and the Diocese of Rockford, along with legal, constitutional and economic issues and changes. Strong leadership was needed, and Mr. Smith was in the forefront. The most stellar achievement of the Aurora Catholic School System during his years as superintendent was probably the opening of the new Aurora Central Catholic campus on Edgelawn Drive in 1995. It was a multi-year project fraught with many hurdles, but many leaders and volunteers persevered through them all. The final hurdle came when the bishop of the Rockford Diocese wanted to have the project stopped, but that objection was overcome with difficulty. Some referred to the opening of the new campus as a miracle. The following message was one of many left following Mr. Smith's online obituary: 'Warren and Bob (Stewart, longtime principal of Aurora Central Catholic) pulled off and helped sustain a new miracle Catholic high school in the creation of ACC on its new site — along with the many other dedicated and passionate people intent on keeping the ACC school and tradition alive. That is a legacy that transcends time, just as Warren's many other accomplishments will do also.' Also in 1995, Mr. Smith left his role as elementary principal to devote full time and effort to his superintendent's role. I remember his telling me that his first office was an empty room in the new ACC building with a card table and a folding chair. But as he settled into his new routine, the same bishop of Rockford eliminated the job of Aurora Area Superintendent in 1997. Needing to continue working, he became the principal of St. Thomas School in Crystal Lake. He commuted to that position from Aurora, and retired in 2002. Along with his lovely wife Joyce, Mr. Smith continued to be very active back in his home parish at Our Lady of Good Counsel in Aurora, even serving as interim principal of its school in 2003-2004. Together the Smiths authored a book honoring the centennial celebration of the parish in 2009. Mr. Smith chaired several committees, and his advice was always sought for important projects and decisions. His leadership abilities and qualities were always evident, and he sometimes had to make unpopular decisions over the years, as do all effective leaders. At the same time, he was an unassuming and humble person. Throughout three generations of great, and sometimes difficult, changes in education, thousands of young people benefited from the steady and unwavering dedicated leadership of Mr. Warren D. Smith. Long live his memory.

Native wisteria vines are a beautiful blue
Native wisteria vines are a beautiful blue

Chicago Tribune

time9 hours ago

  • Chicago Tribune

Native wisteria vines are a beautiful blue

What's a native vine that can cover a trellis or fence with June flowers the purply-blue color of a country sky just before dawn? Wisteria, that's what. Specifically, it's American wisteria (), which is native to the Southeastern states, including far southern Illinois. 'It's hardy to USDA Zone 5 and 6, which includes Chicago and its suburbs,' said Spencer Campbell, Plant Clinic manager at The Morton Arboretum in Lisle. It climbs a large steel trellis in the Arboretum's Grand Garden. Gardeners may be more familiar with other species that are now considered invasive in the United States, Chinese wisteria () and Japanese wisteria (). These Asian species spread very easily to natural areas, where their vigorous growth smothers native plants. 'We should not plant those vines,' Campbell said. 'But American wisteria is just as lovely, and it's a native plant that provides nectar and pollen to native insects.' American wisteria and the closely related Kentucky wisteria () are woody vines, with a main stem like a tree trunk, and are deciduous, meaning they lose their leaves in winter. They have glossy dark green leaves and produce large, drooping clusters of pealike, lightly fragrant flowers in late May or early June. The flowers of both native species are blue to purple, but white-flowering cultivated varieties have been introduced. Although American wisteria and Kentucky wisteria are less aggressive than the Asian species, they are still vigorous and can eventually grow 25 to 30 feet long if not controlled by pruning. The woody stems and branches will be heavy, so the vines need a very sturdy support. Wisteria climbs by sending out tendrils — slender curling stems — that curl around a support, the way a clematis vine does. 'The tendrils need to find something small enough that they can reach around it, so your trellis or fence should have wires or mesh or bars that are not too wide,' Campbell said. 'Wisteria can't climb a blank wall.' These plants need full sun for best flowering, so plant them in a spot that gets six to eight hours of sunlight a day. They prefer a moist, well-drained, slightly acidic soil, with mulch over their roots. Wisteria will need pruning every year, both to control its size and to encourage flowering. Just after the plant finishes blooming, prune excess growth back to 6 inches. These stems will continue growing and flower buds will form on them. In winter, cut them again so that each stem has two to three flower buds left. Planting American or Kentucky wisteria will be an investment of time and effort. 'You'll have to erect the right kind of support and you'll have to wait a few years before the vines are mature enough to flower,' Campbell said. If you have the patience to wait, you can be surrounded by the green shade of a splendid vine with blooms of wisteria blue.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store