Experiences of Passionist prayer, pt. 2: Bishop William Kenney

St Paul of the Cross, the founder of the Passionists, was known for his desire to teach people to pray, and share what he had experienced. How do we pray? What role does prayer take in our lives? We asked three people pursuing a Passionist spirituality how their sense of prayer has changed over time.

Bishop William Kenney

William Kenney is a former Auxiliary Bishop in the Archdiocese of Birmingham.

I am a very unusual Passionist. Thirty-six years ago I was appointed a Bishop; like most Bishops, I have basically lived on my own since then. So, through no fault of my own, I have not lived or had that much contact with Passionist life. At the same time, I was trained as a Passionist, and while you might for whatever reason ‘leave the Passionists’ the Passionist does not leave you.

Living in a religious community usually means that there is some prayer in common, whether that is Divine Office, Mass, meditation or other forms of prayer.  That has the advantage of making sure that something happens. Living on your own means it is all up to you. As for defining particular forms and times:  I, personally, need to both map out times, and to decide ‘content’. I have learnt the hard way that nothing happens for me if I do not.

“Prayer makes me aware of the dignity of every human being I meet.”

I have now, for many years, tried to make sure that I pray early in the morning; usually before breakfast. There is a tendency that if it does not happen then, it will not happen at all. Often during the day there are other times of public prayer as an active bishop.  By the time that evening comes I am just too tired! I try to pray all of the Office and celebrate Mass each day. Now, as a ‘pensioned bishop’, I usually manage to pray Vespers and Compline in the evening.

The above is a flexible guideline rather than very inflexible rules. It does, however, give a prayer structure to a day. On to each of the ‘prayer times’, morning and evening, I will have a time of silence for personal prayer. Now for the Passionist part: it is the many years of meditating on the love of God, as shown in the passion of his only Son, which fills that meditation.

That love has to be shown to the people of his creation, particularly the poor and marginalised. As a Bishop I was responsible for all sorts of parishes, from those which might be described as middle-class, to many which are a place of prayer and community for the poor, and those who could find the very act of surviving in a modern society a strain. Here, I learnt that the love which people showed for each other mirrored, in a myriad of ways, the love that God has for each person in his creation. In our parishes I saw this not just among the poor, but also from those who were somewhat ‘better off’ in worldly terms and showed real care for the poorer within our parishes.

“Over the years, I have learned to try and live consciously in the presence of God: the awareness that whatever one is doing, God is there.”

The reflection on the lives of all these people enabled me to come to a deeper realisation of the love of God for his world, not least for myself. What does that mean in practice? Firstly, over the years I have learnt to try and live consciously in the presence of God. An awareness that whatever one is doing, God is there. It affects everything you do, from meeting the people who are in need of help, assistance, encouragement, or a person to seriously listen to them; to how one talks to the person at the supermarket check-out, to the person selling The Big Issue, to the person you casually meet on the bus or train. Hopefully, it leads to respect for everyone that one meets. It certainly affects the work I do to try and influence policy, both in the Church but also in civil society. I cannot maintain that I always succeed, but it is something I pray for, and try to practice.

As the years roll by, I find that I no longer have the energy or awareness of what is happening in the world that I once had; it’s then that living in God’s presence is more and more important. One can admit that many things are inadequate, but there comes a realisation, as in the prayer of an American Auxiliary Bishop, Ken Untener, that I am not the master builder but just a worker in the vineyard. Maybe I am partly hiding from my own inadequacies, but I find that thought very comforting. I do not have to succeed; I only need to be me.

I am now spending much time working for the Santa Marta Group. The group was founded by Pope Francis in 2014, and on being pensioned I was asked in 2021 to become a member of the Board. It is there to try and influence policy at an international level concerning human trafficking and modern slavery. We are trying to influence the influencers. I am using much of my experience from years of working internationally for various aid projects. The suffering I see and am made aware of is huge. It’s made possible, as I’ve said, by living in the Presence of God and the insight that everything does not depend on me.

I have been given the gift of some knowledge and experience of international work in our world and how policy is made there. I hope that that can be of use to those who are trafficked, who are treated as objects to be used and thrown away when they are no longer useful. Prayer makes me aware of the dignity of every human being, firstly of myself but also of every sister and brother whom I meet.

Read part one (Michael O’Halloran) and part three (Joanne Crompton).