A Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Readings: 1 Kings 19:4-8 Ephesians 4:30-5:30 John 6:41-51
It is a classic with an odd title, though St. Ignatius Loyola opened his Spiritual Exercises with an explanation of the appellation.
For, just as taking a walk, traveling on foot, and running are physical exercises, so is the name of spiritual exercises given to any means of preparing or disposing our soul to rid itself of all disordered affections and then, after their removal, of seeking and finding God’s will in the ordering of our life and the salvation of our soul (“Introduction,” No. 1).
And the spiritual limb that Ignatius seems most intent on developing is the power of the imagination.
Our first impression of the imagination might be as an occasion of sin. There are so many ways that our imaginations can lead us astray, take us to dead ends. But the same territory in life can be both a hindrance and a strength, constantly switching from one to the other. Whether we are speaking of intelligence, talent, disposition, desires, possessions, experiences or imagination, curses and blessings tend to be two sides of the same coin.
Ignatius insists that the Holy Spirit can use the imagination as something of a scalpel for the soul. So often, the meditations that the saint asks us to make begin with the words, “Imagine that…” or “See yourself…” Ignatius entreats us to picture things differently because things change when we look at them in a new way.
The modern philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein suggested much the same when he wrote that a picture can hold us captive. How we picture something largely determines how we understand it, and understanding is the key to a productive response. So, imagination need not be wasted time. Indeed, graced imagination, what we can do in prayer, nourishes the mind.
Imagination plays a powerful role in the spiritual life. Because a picture can hold us captive, imagination can literally set us free from self-imposed chains—the “disordered affections” of Ignatius. It can be the first step toward spiritual freedom.
For example, do you feel that you have been wronged, treated unfairly? Try imagining yourself as the one who wronged you. What do you see? Be fair to yourself and them. Really try—just try—to imagine what they were thinking. You may discover things about yourself that you have previously overlooked. Maybe you will see some things that you would like to change. And imagining yourself in the role of the other is useful on so many levels: family, community, nation and beyond.
Has God abandoned you, left you in a miserable situation? Imagine sitting down with Jesus. Ask him to start counting your blessings for you. Or imagine yourself in heaven, looking back upon this time, this place. What might you see then that you cannot see now?
With the grace of the Holy Spirit, imagination illuminates our lives. It nourishes the mind, which is how Jesus can be the very bread of life deep within us. That is where the struggle between life and death, the real and the unreal, is first waged: within our minds.
Are you convinced that your life will never change? We often believe that when we are low. So imagine the day when everything changes. How does that make you feel? It is always helpful to remember that all things come to an end. In this case and in so many others, imagination can be the real breaking through the unreal!
This is why liturgy is so full of Scripture. We ruminate on old sayings in the light of new events. Imagination and grace do the rest. In liturgy, we gnaw upon the bread that gives life, both in the second half of the liturgy and in the first, the service of the word. As St. Ignatius said, at the opening of his Exercises, “For, what fills and satisfies the soul consists, not in knowing much, but in our understanding the realities profoundly and in savoring them interiorly” (“Introduction,” No. 2).
One might want to ask: But how do we know where imagination ends and the Holy Spirit begins?
We do not. They run on the same track.
Then how do we know when to trust our imagination?
The same way we know anything and everything in the spiritual life: “By their fruits” (Mt 7:20).
God is always coming to be. God is not confined to act on some future day. God acts now in a way that is always new, and the only thing that keeps us from seeing that is the limited power of our imaginations. God is the real breaking up and breaking through the unreal.
If you do not believe that is true, sit down and pray for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Imagine things that never were and may well never be. See beyond the unreal and picture the real. God is—always—coming to be. Just try to imagine that.
