Praying with the imagination

Strengthen your relationship with God through Ignatian contemplation

Establishing a personal relationship with God can be tricky. The person of Jesus and the presence of God sometimes feel elusive, hard to experience.

This is frustrating, because as St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote in his Spiritual Exercises, “The goal of our lives is to be with God forever.” Notice, he didn’t say this should be our goal. This desire is innate, woven into the fabric of our being. And the goal is to be with God forever — not just after we die, but now and always.

Luckily, St. Ignatius left us a method of prayer — Ignatian contemplation — that can help bring us closer in relationship with God.

Ignatian contemplation taps into our imagination and provides an opportunity to personally experience Jesus and God. It invites us to put aside the “thinking” side of our brain — the side controlled by our intellect and emotions — and give our imagination freedom to explore. Ignatius’ experience with contemplation led him to believe that the imagination is a wonderful conduit the Holy Spirit can use to help put us in God’s presence.

Place yourself in the passage

Ignatian contemplation is relatively simple. It involves reading a passage (usually from Scripture) several times and then placing yourself into that passage. Assume the role of one of the characters, try to experience the story as that character does, and then “settle into” it and see where your imagination (with the help of the Holy Spirit) leads you.

One of my favorite passages is the story in Mark’s Gospel where Jesus asks Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, “What do you want?” I’ll read the passage a few times, choose a character to be in the story, read the passage again, and place myself in the setting by imagining specific details.

I imagine the heat of the desert sun, the dust from the road, the stillness of the air, the sounds in the crowd, and even what I’m wearing. Sometimes I’m Bartimaeus asking Jesus for mercy. Sometimes I’m one of the disciples wondering what Jesus will do. Sometimes I’m a person in the crowd, first admonishing Bartimaeus for yelling out and then encouraging him to talk to Jesus once he’s called forward. And sometimes I’m just a bystander, trying to figure out who this Jesus person is. Then I’ll sit quietly, eyes closed, letting the story and the details wash over me.

Let imagination take the lead

The beauty of letting my imagination take the lead in prayer is that I often experience things I did not anticipate — and these surprises can bring me closer to God. Ignatius emphasized paying attention to what happens within us while using the imagination. What moves me and why? What or whom am I drawn to? Am I invited or challenged to take action? What questions do I have?

As Bartimaeus, I can picture Jesus asking me, “What do you want?” and then waiting for me to answer. So I’m faced with a very challenging question asked to me personally by Jesus.

As one of the disciples, sometimes I feel the anxiety or uncertainty they must have felt while following Jesus. I imagine them wondering, “What is he going to do with this man?” or, “What if he were to ask me that question?”

As a member of the crowd, sometimes I feel the hypocrisy of telling Bartimaeus to keep quiet and then encouraging him to speak up. Or I marvel at Jesus telling Bartimaeus at the end of the scene, “Your faith has saved you,” and I think to myself, “Wow, I wish I had that kind of faith.”

Experience Jesus

While Ignatian contemplation can work with any kind of reading, I generally find the Gospel narratives most accessible. I love placing myself in the passage from John’s Gospel of Jesus’ first miracle — the wedding at Cana. How did Mary feel as she prodded her son to begin his ministry? What did Jesus consider that led him to change his mind and perform the miracle? How did the disciples’ perception of the man they were following change when they witnessed his power?

Another passage I use is Luke’s account of Jesus’ interaction with the tax collector Zacchaeus. What prompted Zacchaeus to be so interested in Jesus to climb a tree just to see him? Do I have that kind of desire? What did it feel like when Jesus invited himself to Zacchaeus’ home for a meal? As a member of the crowd, I have felt envious of Zacchaeus and wondered how I might get invited to dine with Jesus.

Ignatian contemplation gives me an opportunity to experience Jesus rather than pray to or think about him. Just as experiencing the people in my life helps me to build stronger relationships with them, experiencing the person of Jesus through my imagination helps me feel a personal connection to Jesus and God. In the story of Zacchaeus, being one of the people in the crowd often prompts me to consider the ways Jesus invites me every day into his presence.

Set aside 20 minutes

Praying with the imagination is different from most forms of prayer, and it takes practice to get good at it. If you are new to this form of prayer, I suggest setting aside about 20 minutes to try it — five minutes to read and absorb the text, choose a character, and read the passage again with your character in mind; 10 minutes to let your imagination take over and guide you through the story; and five minutes to reflect on the experience (I find journaling helpful).

Don’t get frustrated if it doesn’t come easily or if your mind wanders as you try to experience the story. We’re inviting our minds to do something different, so it’s natural to get sidetracked. You may need to try it a few times to get the hang of it, but trust that the more you try it, the better you will become at it.

Ignatian contemplation is a rich and very personal form of prayer — a wonderful complement to other forms of prayer. It can provide insights into how the Divine works through us, and ultimately, it can help us attain our deepest desire — to be with God.

Matt Barmore is a teacher and former principal at Seattle Preparatory School, the past executive director of the Ignatian Spirituality Center and a member of Seattle’s Our Lady of the Lake Parish.

The blind Bartimaeus — Mark 10:46–52

They came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, “Son of David, have pity on me.” Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take courage; get up, he is calling you.” He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. Jesus said to him in reply, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man replied to him, “Master, I want to see.” Jesus told him, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way.

Zacchaeus the tax collector — Luke 19:1–10

He came to Jericho and intended to pass through the town. Now a man there named Zacchaeus, who was a chief tax collector and also a wealthy man, was seeking to see who Jesus was; but he could not see him because of the crowd, for he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus, who was about to pass that way. When he reached the place, Jesus looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” And he came down quickly and received him with joy. When they all saw this, they began to grumble, saying, “He has gone to stay at the house of a sinner.” But Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.” And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham. For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”

The wedding at Cana — John 2:1–11 

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it. And when the headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine, without knowing where it came from (although the servers who had drawn the water knew), the headwaiter called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, an inferior one; but you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs in Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him.

Northwest Catholic — July/August 2021