Click here to learn about The Very Reverend John P. Downey.

Dean Downey’s recent article in The Living Church about his trips to Jerusalem

As a priest, I understand that my calling includes taking spiritual practice seriously as part of being a “wholesome example to the flock.” As an Anglican and Episcopalian priest, I believe deeply that, to truly be an example, I need to undertake these things in a way that is possible and plausible for any Christian. This is part of the “homeliness” of Anglicanism—no place to seek some kind of superior spiritual status or to exploit the privileges of priestly life, but simply to weave the spiritual life into ordinary life through basic practices.

For me, the baseline of practice is daily Morning Prayer, following the Prayer Book order, including the appointed scriptures for each day. This provides a consistent round of prayer and Bible reading, regardless of my moods or experiences. I also read Forward Day by Day at this time, not because it is the most profound spiritual reading, but because I know so many others are also reading it. I participate in the other Daily Offices, like Evensong, as they come up from time to time, but the consistent thread is Morning Prayer.

Personal prayer beyond the words of the Prayer Book for me is mostly simple contemplation. Desmond Tutu likens it to sitting by a fire absorbing the heat. This is not striving for any deep mystical state, but simply a mindful being in God’s presence. If other types of praying like intercession, praise, or repentance, arise during this time, then I follow. But I don’t “schedule” such praying with plans or lists, I just give it time within Morning Prayer or whenever it happens throughout the day.

I like to have some other kind of spiritual reading going. For me, the best books for this can be old or new, sometimes comforting, sometimes challenging, but also simple enough that I can read a little at a time, when I have time.

And speaking of time, I try to live as much as possible with an awareness of liturgical time, both of the week with its center of Sunday, and of the Christian Year through its various seasons with its center of Easter. And I look for practical versions of “Sabbath time,” in small or larger doses, when I can get out of the normal patterns and find rest and renewal. This could be a walk in the woods or on the beach, a quiet day spent at home, or retreat time away.

I try to undertake a reasonable discipline of fasting and abstinence, in tune with the broad Christian tradition. For me this means meatless Fridays, some kind of weekday Lenten abstinence, and more serious (but not total) fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. As Episcopalians, we have no “rules” about these things, but I find the “old paths” helpful, even if I fall short (and I always do—which teaches humility). And perhaps this is the best place to note that stewardship matters like diet, exercise, and tithing are indeed spiritual practices too.

For well over ten years, I have met with a trained Spiritual Director. We get together for an hour about eight or nine times a year. I talk about things going on in my life, and he helps me sort and reflect on them. It is good to have someone who knows your soul, but is not any part of the rest of your life. This helps me pay attention to what the Spirit may be up to in and around me, as does jotting down a few notes most days about what I was doing and any insights that may have come about that day.

The heartbeat of all spiritual practice for me, however, is the Holy Eucharist, especially the Sunday celebration, though I often attend one or more weekday masses as well. Every strand of spiritual practice—prayer, scripture, stewardship, individual and community—they all converge when we gather Sunday by Sunday to celebrate the Lord’s death and resurrection.

What is the outcome of all this spiritual practice, or, more importantly, what is the point? Paradoxically enough, I wouldn’t say that it is to become “spiritual” if that somehow means feeling “spacey” or “pious.” Rather I recall the ancient maxim, “the glory of God is a human being who is fully alive.” Spiritual practice aims at making us more fully human and more fully alive, including the moments that occasionally point us beyond ourselves with longing for a fuller union with the Holy One.

Thus I have learned that it is not about trying to make ourselves spiritual or holy or even faithful. Spiritual practices are about making ourselves open to God’s Spirit and God’s grace. And so, again paradoxically, we learn that being serious about all this includes not taking it too seriously, not trying too hard, and not being too surprised at our foibles and failures.

What is your spiritual practice these days (you have one, whether you think you do or not), and what might be the next step on the way?

<< BACK

Such a church would not need to use gimmicks or guilt as motivations for members “to come together week by week for corporate worship; and to work, pray, and give for the spread of Kingdom of God.” (Prayer Book p. 856 on “the duty of all Christians”). In a grown up church people would worship regularly, commit time to Christian Education and Formation for themselves and their children, and give generously simply because it was the mature and right thing to do in a life of Christian discipleship.

A grown up church would have room for children (in fact it would know the difference between childlikeness and childishness and would not be all work and no play). And a mature church would have room for people at all levels of maturity and understanding as well as for strugglers and seekers. But its leadership, direction, and, most of all, its heart would be healthy, mature, and grown up.

A grown up church would have the wisdom that recognizes that the more we know, the more we know that we don’t know everything, and thus it would be humble, diverse, and open to accepting and learning from different points of view. It wouldn’t need to agree about everything, or to blame or scapegoat people near or far. It would have serious, but not unrealistic, expectations of leaders and members and would not need a personality cult to inspire personal responsibility.

A grown up church would be intelligent, civil, respectful, sincere, prayerful, and clearly earnest in its desire to be faithful to Jesus Christ. It would be a gospel church, because it knows and proclaims the good news of God’s grace through the dying and rising of Jesus. And it would be a mission church, because it looks beyond its own walls and members to find a place in God’s mission of reconciliation.

Of course, the way to be a grown up, mature, healthy church, is to take adult responsibility for ourselves.  I will do my best to be a grown up Christian, Episcopalian, and Cathedral member and, at the same time, give thanks to God for the many people around me who are doing the same.

<< BACK

I said that my tradition, the Episcopal Church, often seems to make headlines.  This attention is actually beyond what our relatively small membership deserves.  More importantly, most of our members are not preoccupied with those things that make headlines.  Rather, we are most concerned with the mission and sustainability of our congregations and with the struggle to live ordinary Christian lives.  Behind the headlines, there is a much larger story.

This is the great story of millions of people who continue to work, pray, and give for the spread of the Kingdom of God through their local congregations.  They worship and study; they give of their time and money; they serve those in need at home and around the world; and they care for each other within and beyond their congregational membership.

They are not perfect and so they make mistakes and often don’t get things right.  Sometimes they experience the miracle of forgiveness, offered and received.  They go on when things make sense and when they don’t.  They come to understand life as a gift of grace; lived in the matrix of a sacred dimension they usually call God.

In our time and in our culture, they do this more and more against the grain, trying to figure out how to balance impossible demands coming from all sides.  The pressures and trends that work against faithful practice are relentless and strong.  Yet millions still make the effort, however imperfectly.  And while it rarely makes headlines, this is the big story.  In innumerable, and perhaps in unrecognizable ways, what a difference it makes!

Part of our culture wants sensational headlines.  They are there for a reason, and we can always try to learn from them.  But here is an encouraging word for the bigger story of ordinary people striving to be faithful and making a difference.   Give thanks for those people.  Be one of them.

Faithful. We are a community of faith, a specific faith and practice: Christian, Anglican, Episcopalian. We are not a social club organized because we like to get together, nor are we a service club trying to do some good in the world. Of course we do get together (sometimes we like to, other times not so much) and we do try to make a difference in the world, but those things happen because we are first and foremost a community of faith. Individually we have various understandings and approaches to faith, as well as many questions and even doubts. But together we are a community of faith. I believe matters of faith are deep at the heart of the challenges we are living through. What is our faith – really? What difference does it make? How do we live with people of other faiths or none? How much do we need to reclaim our tradition? How much do we need to change? Everything else traces back to and flows from these kinds of questions.

Missional. This is a rather newly coined word which means that our Christian community of faith is a community of mission. The mission is not the Church as an end in itself (as in trying to get more people to “join” or “come to” Church). Rather it is the Church which serves the end of God’s Kingdom of justice, peace, and love. As we pursue this end, we also worship, pray, and invite others to serve with us. All of this is mission and, while it has always been true, it is abundantly clear in these days that if we are not missional, we will have no future (nor should we).

Sustainable. Environmental, economic, organizational – you name it and the challenge to become “sustainable” probably somehow applies. Economic sustainability is the leading challenge of the present because we know that the way we were doing things cannot continue, and this includes the Church, and that includes the Cathedral of Saint Paul. The future cannot be like the past and, ready or not, we have been tossed into this rapidly changing reality. I think we may see more changes in the next few years (maybe months) than we have seen in a lifetime, not just in congregations, but in many aspects of society.

As we live through our Cathedral version of these challenges, we are discerning, discovering, and determining what our true base of support is. That base certainly has to do with financial and other resources, but most of all it is people. People who are willing in times like these to work, pray and give as a community of faith and mission. There is no denying that we face challenges, but there is also no denying that we have resources and people. Much may change, but the things that matter most will remain the same as we, like those in challenging times before us, strive to be faithful and missional in ways that will be sustainable.

<< BACK

I had been to the Holy Sepulcher before, but not for (Orthodox) Holy Week and Easter, including the Holy Fire Ceremony when thousands jam the church and the streets outside to see and receive the flame which the Patriarch of Jerusalem brings out of the tomb of Jesus.  One can speak of but never adequately describe this event when Christians of many different (and divided) traditions gather in an atmosphere which is both exciting and frightening, to bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus and to Christianity’s roots.

St. Peters Basilica in Rome is the largest church building in the world, just as the Roman Catholic Church centered there has the largest membership of any Christian body.  Yet in a strange way all Christians are somehow at home there and thus it stands for something larger than Roman Catholicism alone (witness the funeral of Pope John Paul II).  Here, maybe more than anywhere else, we see Christianity as a worldwide community of faith.

The Washington National Cathedral is both an Episcopal Church and the National Cathedral in our nation where no religion is officially established.  Its memorials, windows, and other art try to express this and it has indeed become a center of ecumenical and interfaith events, of engaging important social issues, and of great national occasions.  Here we see the challenges of faith in a free and democratic society.

For me these three great churches represent a challenge – how do we hold together our Christian roots, the Church as a worldwide body, and our deeply held American values regarding freedom, including religious freedom?  How can our differences lead to the strength of diversity more than the strife of division?  Taking up this challenge in our community, society, and world is a good bit of the work God has set before us in our day.

An urban cathedral, an Episcopal cathedral, is both grounded and open. Christ is at the center and the gospel of grace is unmistakably proclaimed. Near the center is a congregation, a eucharistic community worshipping according to the Book of Common Prayer. That congregation welcomes convinced believers, strugglers and searchers, those with the mere thread of a desire for God and those who value ritual and tradition without being sure of their beliefs. The community life welcomes young and old, those who want an active parish life and those who prefer to “hide behind a pillar.” The openness and hospitality of the cathedral extend beyond the worshipping congregation to such a broad orbit that it is difficult if not impossible to draw a line that defines who is in or out of the cathedral’s life.

Worship is the single most important thing that a cathedral does, and it should be done in the most excellent way possible (which is not necessarily the same as the most elaborate). The Prayer Book provides the pattern and is observed fully. Space is also provided for private prayer and reflection. From worship extend other values and pursuits that the cathedral strives for as best as it can in its context such as music, art, education, and mission.

The cathedral is a place of education, both supporting and challenging people in their daily lives and work. The living tradition is learned and theological and spiritual matters are presented and probed. Important church, social, and civic issues are raised, but in a climate of discernment and respect for the range of faithful views, rather than partisanship. A civil discourse that values diversity and difference is sought. However, when convergence appears and consensus is approached, the cathedral is not afraid to take a stand.

The cathedral is a place the city and diocese look to for important occasions, and it is capable of hosting such events. It is both a place where people of renown can speak or perform, and a place of welcome for those who have little voice or presence in community awareness.

The cathedral mission has some neighborhood impact, but also a metropolitan awareness and outreach. It will launch and maintain unique programs of outreach but will more often be a partner and catalyst with ecumenical, interfaith, and community groups that are working together for justice, reconciliation and development. It recognizes that mission primarily takes place through the lives of its members and friends and it supports them in this.

The cathedral has a deliberate diocesan awareness and outreach. The bishop is welcome to a supportive spiritual home and to a place for teaching and mission, and diocesan clergy, laity and groups know they are welcome as well. The cathedral provides both an accessible model and a unique resource for the rest of the diocese. This further extends the cathedral’s mission as suburban and rural perspectives interact with the urban.

These and other “sightings” emerge in the course of a cathedral’s ongoing life. At times some will receive more emphasis and attention than others. At any time there can be surprises of grace or mission urgency that provide new, even unexpected glimpses of the way ahead.

<< BACK