On the first Thursday of May, communities across the country pause for the National Day of Prayer, a tradition established in 1952 that invites people of all faiths to pray for the nation, its leaders, and one another. In the Episcopal Church, prayer has long been more than a private practice. It is something shared, spoken together, and carried across generations.
At the heart of that tradition is the Book of Common Prayer, a collection of prayers, liturgies, psalms, and reflections that has shaped Episcopal worship for centuries. Its very name points to something powerful: common prayer. In a divided and fast-moving world, it reminds us that people from different backgrounds can still gather in hope, compassion, and faith.
We sat down with the Rev. Alex Montes-Vela, Missioner for Campus Missions in the Episcopal Diocese of Texas, to reflect on the importance of common Prayer in today’s world. Here are some of his answers:
Why does common prayer still matter in today’s world?
Common prayer reminds us that we do not approach God alone. In a world that can often feel fragmented, hurried, and isolated, common prayer gathers us into community. It gives us shared language for grief, hope, thanksgiving, repentance, and compassion. Even when we struggle to find the words ourselves, the prayers of the Church help carry us and remind us that we belong to something larger than ourselves.
Common prayer also teaches us to slow down and become attentive — attentive to God, attentive to one another, and attentive to the deeper movements of grace in everyday life.
What makes the Book of Common Prayer unique within the Episcopal tradition?
The Book of Common Prayer — El Libro de Oración Común — is more than simply a worship resource. It is a spiritual companion that helps shape how we pray, worship, and move through daily life. One of its unique gifts within the Episcopal tradition is the way it brings together scripture, theology, sacramental life, poetry, and pastoral care in language that feels both deeply rooted and deeply human.
For generations, the Book of Common Prayer has helped form communities of prayer across many different contexts and experiences. It reminds us that prayer is not reserved only for Sundays but can accompany us through the rhythms of ordinary life — in moments of joy, grief, uncertainty, celebration, transition, and hope.
How can prayer bring hope during times of uncertainty?
Prayer does not always immediately change our circumstances, but it can change how we carry them. Prayer reminds us that God remains present even in uncertainty. It creates space for compassion, wisdom, humility, patience, and peace to emerge.
In moments of division, prayer can soften our hearts and help us remember one another’s humanity. It calls us back to relationship — with God and with one another. Prayer helps us resist the temptation to become consumed by fear, anger, or despair, and instead invites us to remain grounded in hope and love.
What prayer from the Book of Common Prayer speaks most deeply to you personally, and why?
One prayer that has remained close to me over the years is the prayer attributed to St. Francis:
“Lord, make us instruments of your peace…”
Or, as it appears in El Libro de Oración Común:
“Señor, haznos instrumentos de tu paz”.
I return to this prayer often because it reminds me that faith is not only about what we believe, but also about how we move through the world. The prayer invites us to become people who bring reconciliation, compassion, forgiveness, hope, and light wherever we are.
As someone who works closely with college students and campus communities, I often see how deeply people long for peace, belonging, understanding, and hope. This prayer continues to remind me that small acts of compassion and presence can become part of God’s healing work in the world.
What would you say to someone who feels distant from prayer or unsure where to begin?
I would say: begin simply and honestly. Prayer does not need to feel perfect or polished. Sometimes we begin by simply showing up.
Early in my ordained ministry, while serving as Curate at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Waco and as Campus Missioner at the Episcopal Student Center, one of the graduate students deeply involved in our ministry, Nate Roberts, asked if we could gather for Morning Prayer twice a week during Lent.
I said yes and then asked what time. He replied: 6:30 a.m.
I remember thinking, “Wow!” Some mornings it was difficult not only to wake up that early, but even to know how to pray. In many ways, it ended up being mostly Nate and me faithfully showing up during that Lenten season.
What I learned during those mornings was that the Book of Common Prayer helps guide us into prayer, even when we do not fully feel ready for it. At first, sometimes you are simply reading the words. But over time, something begins to happen. The words slowly become your own prayer. The rhythm begins shaping your heart, your attention, and your awareness of God’s presence.
Poco a poco — little by little — the words become prayer.
A Personal Reflection by the Rev. Alex Montes-Vela, Missioner for Campus Missions in the Episcopal Diocese of Texas
My own connection to the Episcopal Church and the Book of Common Prayer is deeply personal.
I came to the Episcopal Church when I was 17 years old — not because my family was looking to become Episcopalian, but because the Episcopal Church chose us and welcomed us during a very difficult season of our lives.
One evening, after my father had been violently robbed and beaten while delivering pizza in Houston, he found himself sitting alone in the emergency room at Ben Taub Hospital, bruised and exhausted, going through a stack of pastors’ business cards, trying to find someone to call.
No one answered.
The final card belonged to Bishop Hugo Pina, the retired Bishop of Honduras, who was then serving at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church in Houston.
Although Bishop Pina was about to begin a Quinceañera, he promised my father that as soon as it was over, he would come.
A couple of hours later, Bishop Pina walked through the emergency room doors still wearing his vestments.
For my father, it felt like Jesus himself had entered the room. He sat with my father, listened to him, comforted him, and finally said:
“The last time I saw you, you were a pastor. You still are. I’ll find something in my church for you.”
That moment changed the course of my family’s life.
Over time, my father began helping in the church office, then with music and Bible studies. Eventually our family was received into the Episcopal Church, and later my father entered the ordination process and eventually became a priest in that same congregation — St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, now Iglesia Episcopal San Mateo in Houston.
When I think about the Book of Common Prayer and the Episcopal tradition, I do not simply think about liturgy or ritual. I think about the kinds of things that must have formed Bishop Pina into the person who walked through those emergency room doors that night.
I think about the Baptismal Covenant and its call to “seek and serve Christ in all persons” and to “respect the dignity of every human being.” I think about prayers that form compassion, presence, mercy, reconciliation, and love over time.
What I find in the Book of Common Prayer are not simply words on a page, but a way of being shaped into a more prayerful, compassionate, and faithful human being.
That experience continues to shape both my faith and my ministry today.
