Unfortunately, I really never got along well with either one of my brothers as a child. The three of us were very different people, which made my parents’ job more difficult. Whenever I had a serious fight or disagreement with one of my brothers, I would sometimes wish for a different family. After an especially bad fight, I said those exact words to my mother, who told me, “You can’t choose your family.” I first thought that all my mother meant was that I should deal with the fact that these are my brothers.

When I came to Notre Dame, I was randomly sorted into Stanford Hall. I grew up outside of the United States, so I never expected to feel a kinship with anyone in my dorm. As my time at Notre Dame went on, I was proven wrong; the men of Stanford hall became people I depended on for almost everything. The first time my rector called me “brother,” I immediately remembered my mom’s quote and understood the meaning behind her words. My mom wasn’t telling me, “This is merely what happened to you.” Rather, she was suggesting that God wanted my brothers and I to have each other. Much in the same way, God wanted me to have brothers at Notre Dame and even elsewhere.

Our relationships with others are neither random nor optional. Rather, they are God-given and come with responsibilities and duties. Merely tolerating the people in our family and community is not enough: we must actively love them, even when that is difficult.