Imaginative Prayer: In The Garden

Hello, and welcome to Methods. This is the tenth episode of our third season: Vision. This passage is from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 22. Imaginative prayer, also known as Ignatian Contemplation, is the name given to prayer which helps us enter more fully into the passage of Scripture we are reading by using our ability to form pictures or inner impressions in our minds.

Transcript

Hello,

And welcome to Methods.

This is the tenth episode of our third season,

Vision.

We've spoken about contemplation before,

And this part may be confusing.

Like many words in the English language,

A word like contemplation can mean different things depending on its context.

Contemplation can mean the inner state of union with the divine,

A type of samadhi,

Or final stage in the process of purgation,

Illumination,

And union,

As per the desert fathers like Evagrius Ponticus.

But there's a different usage for the term contemplation in the Jesuit tradition.

Imaginative prayer,

Also known as Ignatian contemplation,

Is the name given to prayer which helps us enter more fully into the passage of scripture we're reading by using our ability to form pictures or inner impressions in our minds.

We live in a rational,

Left-brain world where information and analysis is the highest priority.

But as human beings,

Our soul is still captivated by experience.

Jesus called on people's imagination all the time.

He was constantly telling stories and painting word pictures.

He asked people to imagine the kingdom of God as a mustard seed,

As yeast,

As a treasure hidden in a field,

As a lost coin.

Through imaginative prayer we step into a gospel story and imagine ourselves to be there in that scene.

Rather than reading the Bible abstractly,

We enter the story to more deeply experience and encounter Jesus in the scene.

In doing so,

We remain true to the biblical reading,

But more actively experience it.

We might be a disciple in the boat with Jesus,

One of the crowd at the feeding of the 5,

000,

Or the woman at the well asked by Jesus to draw up water for him.

It's important that as you hear the story you try and feel what it's like to actually be inside that story.

Listen,

Taste,

Smell,

Feel,

And watch what happens.

What can you see around you?

What are everyone's facial expressions?

What are you feeling?

Sit quietly in a comfortable place.

Take a slow,

Deep breath in.

Let it fill your lungs all the way to the bottom.

And again.

Another breath.

Slowly and deeply.

A breath that makes you lighter and lighter.

When you feel weightless,

Exhale the air slowly,

Silently.

I'll read through once from the text first,

And then we'll enter the story more personally.

This passage is from the Gospel of Luke chapter 22.

He came out and went,

As was his custom,

To the Mount of Olives,

And the disciples followed him.

When he reached the place,

He said to them,

Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.

Then he withdrew from them about a stone's throw,

Knelt down,

And prayed.

Father,

If you're willing,

Remove this cup from me.

Yet not my will,

But yours be done.

Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength.

In this anguish he prayed more earnestly,

And his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down onto the ground.

When he got up from prayer,

He came to his disciples and found them sleeping because of grief,

And he said to them,

Why are you sleeping?

Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.

It's early evening.

You find yourself on a high knoll,

Overlooking a valley that leads to the walled city of Jerusalem ahead of you.

And in the bright moonlight,

You can make out the city's silhouette,

With its towers and angled stone buildings,

Squeezed together and protected by an enormous wall.

The night air is refreshing.

A cool breeze gently twists and turns.

The sky is crowded with stars,

While the moon casts long shadows.

But the city seems strangely quiet,

And eerie.

Is this something important we're about to happen?

Something that no one is prepared for?

From where you are on the knoll,

You can just make out a group of travelers walking from Jerusalem in your direction on a dirt road.

You can see that they'll soon come to a fork.

When they reach it,

They pause,

And one of the group motions the rest to follow him into a garden.

They move through the opening of the protective stone wall,

Through the gate,

And into the garden.

Lush,

Peaceful,

Secluded.

And you join them there,

Walking with them through the old cluster of olive trees,

Trunks thick and twisted,

Rugged branches hanging low.

Most of the group sit under the outside edge of trees,

Huddled together.

Their cloaks pulled close to their chins,

Staying warm,

Getting comfortable.

The oldest of the group,

Peter,

Points out a solitary figure over to one side near the well.

Peter tells you how that man had been welcomed into Jerusalem with fanfare earlier in the week.

He talked about the end being near,

About how everything would change now since he was coming into his kingdom.

Everyone thought he meant that he would lead an uprising to get rid of the Romans,

That he'd be a revolutionary.

But he didn't,

And the mood of the people began to change.

They weren't cheering anymore,

And the man has many powerful enemies here in Jerusalem.

He's talking about betrayal,

Too.

The man said someone would betray him,

One of his best friends,

Now they don't know who to trust.

They got into an argument,

And they accused each other.

He tried to bring them together for the Passover meal,

But now they suspect each other.

They're angry.

Another of the group,

Thomas,

Tries to explain to you how that man had said that everything would change now that he was leaving.

But he won't take them with him,

He's leaving them alone with no way to find him.

Thomas tells you about how he has come to depend on this man,

How he's learned to trust him,

How he made plans knowing that he would be a part of those plans.

Soon he'll be gone,

And all our plans will be destroyed,

All his dreams will vanish.

As the group becomes drowsy,

Yawning,

Falling asleep,

Snoring,

You slowly walk over to the solitary man who is at a distance near the well.

As you quietly approach him from behind,

You notice that the heavy robe he wears is soaked with sweat,

His hair is dripping,

Stringy and matted.

He rings his hands together,

Twisting and turning them in his anxiety.

His breathing is erratic,

Alternately deep and shallow,

Breathing in gulps or sips.

You stand next to him.

He looks up with his bloodshot eyes,

Skin shining in the moonlight.

His lip trembles and he begins to shiver.

Tears have streaked his face.

He tells you that he's scared.

Scared?

Isn't this supposed to be the Messiah?

The Anointed One?

Nothing has seemed to work out the way he wanted it.

His friends seem to have forgotten everything he said to them about the kingdom.

They fight and bicker,

Argue over who's the greatest.

Money and possessions are more important than anything.

He had hoped to change people's hearts and fighting and cruelty,

Establish God's justice,

Usher in God's return to his world,

This world.

And now at the end,

Hoping to find healing love in the hearts of those around him,

He instead finds overwhelming sin and ignorance.

And he wonders if he has done something wrong.

He fears he has completely failed and there's no time left to change things.

And he would rather have another chance or more time.

If only there were another way,

He says.

Some way other than suffering because of others.

Bearing all the pain that they have caused.

Suffering the rejection even of those who claim to love me.

My friends abandon me when I need them the most.

I don't think I'm strong enough to endure all that,

He says.

He begins to sob,

His hands shaking,

Hiding his face as if he were humiliated to have you see him at this difficult hour of his life.

Then he looks up,

Exhausted,

Weary.

He extends his hand to you,

Silently waiting and hoping.

Feeling the weight of pain and suffering just as you have.

And we pray,

All suffering God,

There are times when our lives seem confusing.

When the path we take is uncertain.

When the course we should choose is unclear.

We get frustrated because we're not sure how things will work out or what the future holds or what we can do now to make things better.

We cry out in anguish and pain at our suffering and beg you to take the cup from us.

But you've shown us that you're no stranger to suffering.

That you suffer alongside us.

Feeling every bit of it.

We try to place our trust in you.

As we meditate,

Make us aware of your spirit within us,

Guiding us,

Teaching us,

Allowing us to trust ourselves and you.

That we might act with greater love and greater hope.

Amen.

Leave the garden at the Mount of Olives and return here when you need to,

Knowing that you are not alone in suffering.

Knowing that you are with others and that your pain is mirrored in the pain of Christ.

Thank you for participating in this episode of Methods.

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Until next time.

Reviews

The best talk and experience I’ve had in ages!!

All of the meditations you do are amazing..I am listening to all intensely but have not found you web page

Absolutely beautiful words! Thank you and God bless you 😊🙏

Exquisite and intimate ingnatiаn contemplation and imagining and entering into the garden of olives. Sharing in the pain and suffering of Christ and knowing that we are not alone in our pain and suffering. Was drawn to listen to it 4 times in a row each time new images and words came into my awareness that I hadn't captured before. Thank you for drawing me in to deeper contemplation an experience more intimately with Christ. Namaste