One of my favorite topics to explore when leading a retreat is “The Mystical Imagination.” I often pair it with Centering Prayer, exploring how the silence of Centering Prayer naturally complements the inner imagery of prayer anchored in the imagination.
When I lead such retreats, I often will share a variety of quotations with the retreatants to make the case for why the imagination is so important, spiritually speaking. I thought it would be fun to list some of these quotations here. I invite you to reflect on these words, not merely as an argument for the importance and value of the imagination, but as invitations to enter your own imaginal space as a way to go deeper in prayer.
Praying with the imagination is not the same as Centering Prayer (or other forms of silent prayer). It’s a kataphatic form of prayer in contrast to the apophatic nature of silent methods of prayer. I invite you to see these ways of praying as complementary. Not everyone feels drawn to silent prayer, and not everyone is drawn to imaginative prayer. Some people, like me, love it all (I’m weird that way), but I encourage you to simply trust your own mind and heart to determine what “prayer style” is right for you. As Abbot John Chapman was famous for saying, “Pray as you can, not as you can’t”!
Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.
— Albert Einstein, Cosmic Religion and Other Opinions and Aphorisms
The fundamental job of the imagination in ordinary life, then, is to produce, out of the society we have to live in, a vision of the society we want to live in.
— Northrop Frye, The Educated Imagination
The prophet seeks only to spark the imagination of this people, and that in itself turns despair to energy.
— Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination
So what could bridge that gap between what we perceive with our senses and the reality far greater than our rational minds? For me the answer is imagination… When I use my imagination in prayer and reflection, I glimpse a deeper reality beneath my everyday experience.
— Margaret Silf, www.ignatianspirituality.com
The real work of imagination is to make contact with the strange world in which we live and to serve as both guide and inspiration for our development within it. It is the way we evolve. Imagination presents us with possible, potential realities that it is our job to actualise. It also presents us with a world that would not be complete without our help.
— Gary Lachman, Lost Knowledge of the Imagination
Images of the imagination are not always ‘imaginary’ or untrue, but ‘imaginal,’ presenting truths of a different, inner kind… The psyche or soul is the imagination.
— Stephen Larsen, The Mythic Imagination
The mystical imagination can show us something that science, wonderful though it is, cannot, namely, it can show us the many grace-drenched and spirit-laden layers of reality that are not perceived by our physical senses. The mystical imagination can show us how the Holy Spirit isn’t just inside our churches, but is also inside the law of gravity.
— Ronald Rolheiser, “The Mystical Imagination”
Imagination is your interior sense. When you say imagination, you get into something pretty deep. . . . What normally people think of as imagination is simply fantasy . . . but imagination is not fantasy, imagination is creative. . . . The artist makes you an artist, whether you like it or not, or else you don’t connect . . . what is the deepest part of yourself, your heart or your whole self. . . . It gets right into the depths of you.
— Thomas Merton, “God Speaks to Each of Us: The Poetry and Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke” (audio recording), quoted in Carl McColman’s Eternal Heart
I perceived that God’s continual working in every kind of thing is so beautifully done—so wise and so powerful—that it surpasses our greatest imagination. God’s goodness transcends all thought, all comprehension. At that point, all we can do is contemplate God and rejoice. We allow ourselves to be filled with the overwhelming desire for union with our Beloved, to listen deeply for the divine call. We delight in God’s goodness and revel in God’s love.
— Julian of Norwich, The Showings (translated by Mirabai Starr)
Here, in this spark or “part of the soul” where the spirit, as religion says, “rests in God who made it,” is the fountain alike of the creative imagination and the mystic life.
— Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism
A layered reality is part of the [Christian] imagination. To possess this imagination is to dwell in a universe inhabited by unseen presences — the presence of God, the presence of saints, the presence of one another. There are no isolated individuals but rather unique beings whose deepest life is discovered in and through one another. This life transcends the confines of space and time.
— Wendy M. Wright, Sacred Heart: Gateway to God
The fourteenth revelation is that the Lord God is the ground of our praying. Arising from this, we are shown true prayer and steady trust and God wants us to be generous in both alike. In this way our prayer is pleasing to him and in his goodness he fulfills it.
— Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love (translated by Halcyon Backhouse and Rhona Pipe)
Today I led a day of reflection for the Mary Brewster Committee of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Ridgfield, CT. This committee is tasked with creating a retreat each year for the purpose of supporting women’s spirituality in their community. When they approached me about the retreat we decided on the theme “Wisdom During Difficult Times” to acknowledge what a challenging year 2020 has been, and we selected the fourteenth century mystic Julian of Norwich and the 20th century mystic Evelyn Underhill as two women who could particularly speak to the challenges of our time, since both lived through pandemics of their own: the plague during Julian’s lifetime, and the Spanish Influenza pandemic during Underhill’s.
Here are the slides I created for the retreat, which took place virtually. I’m sharing the slides because I thought you might enjoy reading the many quotes from these two amazing women.
The retreat also included two meditations, based on the teachings of Underhill and Julian. In the morning, we had a “Recollection Meditation” based on the teachings of Underhill as found in her book Practical Mysticism. I also recommended that the participants read Underhill’s Letters.
In the afternoon our meditation was based on the “Hazelnut Vision” found in Julian of Norwich’s Revelations of Divine Love.
I hope you enjoy the slides (and the meditations)!
Speaking to the Shalem Institute a few years back, Richard Rohr told an amusing story about a retreat he gave to the monks of Gethsemani Abbey (where Thomas Merton lived) early in his ministry. Feeling a bit intimidated by leading a retreat where his audience was mostly older than him and represented a lifetime of monastic observance, Rohr peppered his talk with quotes from Merton — but he found that every time he invoked the famous author, the retreatants looked away uncomfortably. Finally he pulled aside one of the brothers and asked if he was making a mistake by quoting Merton so much. The monk replied that Merton was not universally loved in his own monastery, because he told the community they were not true contemplatives, just introverts!
In telling this story, Richard is illustrating how even monks can sometimes misunderstand contemplative spirituality. But I’m invoking this story for a different reason — I’d like to reflect on the perils of “quoting experts” when one writes about spirituality (or, I suppose, any topic).
Spiritual Writing, Telling the Truth, and Quoting Others
Writing non-fiction has its own unique challenges. While poetry and fiction are infinite playgrounds where the only limits are imposed by the writer’s own imagination, non-fiction implies a commitment to telling the truth — at least, the truth as the author most faithfully understands it.
Every now and then there’s a kerfuffle in the literary world when a book that has been passed off as non-fiction is shown to be, at least in part, made-up, a product of the author’s imagination (or duplicity). Forrest Carter’s The Education of Little Tree,James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces and Greg Mortensen’s Three Cups of Tea are just three examples of books in recent years that have been published as “true stories” only later to be challenged as partially or entirely fictional. Indeed, there’s an entire page on Wikipedia devoted just to documenting Fake Memoirs.
But even if one is not writing a memoir, truth and truthfulness still matter in non-fiction. In terms of spiritual writing, this has traditionally meant that authors are expected to support their claims and assertions by appealing to some sort of authority: the Bible, the saints, the mystics or other respected voices in the tradition.
When it comes to writing spiritual non-fiction, there’s a kind of continuum. Writing for academic and scholarly audiences typically relies almost entirely on external authorities — quoting other scholars or voices from the tradition. At the other end of the spectrum is writing that is based entirely on the author’s own (inner) experience. Many mystics (as well as psychics or new age “channelers”) fall into this camp. Take Julian of Norwich, for example: her writing is based entirely on the authority of her own inner experience. Readers are free to judge if what she has to say carries any value or merit, but no one can dispute that Julian herself sincerely believed that her own experience gave her the authority she needed to write.
Many — perhaps most — spiritual writers fall somewhere between these two extremes. I fall into this camp. When I write, I seek to give voice to my own insight, intuition and experience as a contemplative, but always in “conversation” with the wisdom of those who came before me. This is because I believe that spirituality is most robust and healthy when it occurs in some sort of communal context. Even when a person prays and lives largely in solitude, bringing the light of a larger community to one’s spiritual experience is a way of supporting it (like a trellis supports a vine). We can see this dynamic at work even in the visionary writing of Julian, who repeatedly mentions “Holy Mother Church” and her desire to integrate her mystical visions with the teachings she receives from her community of faith.
There are pitfalls we can fall into when quoting “authorities” in our writing. Richard Rohr’s story shows what happens if we rely on quoting from sources that our audience is uncomfortable with. Much academic and scholarly writing, while meticulously researched and extensively footnoted, can be dry as dust — great content, but almost impossible for the average reader to wade through. You can quote the most amazing voices in the tradition, but if your writing is not compelling and interesting, no one’s going to read it.
Quoting Others for the Wrong Reasons
And then there’s another problem that can arise — from the reason why we quote certain authors. The anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowinghas something to say about this:
In the past, writers followed the humble practice of not sharing their own opinions unless they supported their ideas with Scripture and with learned quotations from the Church Fathers, but now that practice has degenerated into arrogant erudition and clever grandstanding. You don’t need that, so I won’t do it.
I remember really being blown away by this quote, the first time I read it. As a writer, I had to ask myself: do I write about the wisdom of great mystics and saints in a humble way, because I want to share their insights with others? Or is it more a matter of pride: I am trying to show off how much I know? And then there’s even a third possibility: that writers keep quoting other authorities because they lack confidence in their own authority?
I don’t think I’ve ever tried to be a show-off in my writing (partially because I’m so keenly aware of how much I don’t know, about mysticism and theology and just about everything else!) But if I’m honest, I know I’ve relied on quoting other writers as a way to avoid doing the deep work of recognizing, and then giving voice to, my own inner authority.
So that’s something I’ve tried to be mindful of when I write. I love to write about the mystics, but I also know that most people have access, thanks to the internet, to more information about the mystics then they’ll ever need or want. So I figure the only way my perspective on the mystics (or any other topic) matters is if I weave together the wisdom of these great ancestral voices with my own perspective, however humble it might be.
This leads me to another quotation — the one that really inspired today’s blog post. It comes from a book called The Mystery of Death: Awakening to Eternal Life by Ladislaus Boros, SJ (recently re-published with a new introduction by Cynthia Bourgeault). It’s a slender book that weaves together philosophy and spirituality to reflect on the meaning of death. It’s beautifully written and well worth reading.
In the introduction to the second part of the book, Boros has this to say, referring to philosophers that he will be quoting:
We shall not, however, limit ourselves to a merely descriptive account of their thought. We too shall endeavour to be creative and to progress further along the lines they indicate, taking their basic insights to their final consequences.
Once again, this passage brought me to a moment of reflective wonder. Just as the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing challenges writers not to quote other authors for vain or superficial reason, this author points out that quoting an authority matters most when a writer responds to that quote with creativity and insight.
In other words, don’t quote someone just to prove a point. Quote them as a launchpad for your own creative thinking.
Creation… and Interpretation
The wisdom of the past not only needs to be listened to, and savored; it also needs to be interpreted.
Interpretation is a creative act. We human beings receive an onslaught of external stimuli every day. Most of it we have to ignore, if we are going to respond to the bits that truly deserve our attention. We have to interpret all the data that flows through our senses — deciding, usually in a split second, what matters and what doesn’t. And when we decide that something does matter, we have to make sense of it, figure out what it means and why it is relevant to our lives.
Here’s the tricky part. So much of human language and thought can be interpreted in more than one way.
Consider, for example, a book by the British author Geoffrey Ashe called The Virgin. It is Ashe’s reflection on the meaning of Catholic devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. As a secular scholar who is interested in pagan spirituality, Ashe interprets devotion to Mary as evidence of vestigial goddess-worship that has crept into Christianity. So to his mind, when Catholics pray to Mary or reverence a statue of her, they are (unconsciously) participating in a type of spiritual practice that in ancient times was focussed on worshiping the Divine Feminine.
Obviously, most conservative Catholics are not going to be happy with Ashe’s interpretation. They take the same data and make an entirely different argument: that all the ancient pagan practices of goddess veneration point to the human need for a sacred mother-figure, and simply prefigure the coming of Mary and the devotional practices that grew up around her. In other words, pagan goddess worship is evidence that it is natural for humans to venerate a feminine mother-figure (never mind what Protestants think) — and that the highest and truest form of such veneration arose in history with the coming of Mary and devotion to her.
The same data, but two entirely different interpretations. Which one rings more true. You be the judge!
We see this at work in our politics as well. Liberals maintain that government needs to take the lead in providing social services to the most vulnerable members of society. Conservatives argue that such programs are too expensive, since they result in higher taxes on both corporations and individuals. Which is better: lower taxes and fewer services, or higher taxes and more programs? Once again, it’s a matter of interpretation.
Interpretation is creative because we have to put ourselves into the interpretive process. We have to “create” meaning by reflecting on the data we have, in the light of our own experience, our values, and our ability to discern. Writing is a creative act: we give birth to thoughts, ideas and perspectives that may be entirely a new (or, at least, represent a new perspective). Ladislaus Boros points out that it’s not enough just to quote external authorities; we have to “meet” those quotations with our own capacity to interpret their meaning, understand what insights arise from them, and then reflect on how these interpretations and insights can be used, under the guidance of the Spirit, to discover new perspectives and new ways of understanding.
If you’re not a writer, bless you for reading this far — since this post is clearly a writer’s reflection on what it means to be a writer. But if you are a writer, or involved in any other kind of creative work, I hope you will reflect on what we can learn from Richard Rohr, Ladislaus Boros, and the author of The Cloud of Unknowing. We need to learn how to access the wisdom in our own hearts. It’s good to know the wisdom of those who come before us, especially if we receive their guidance with humility. But a lot of quotes will not necessarily make our writing (or speaking or any other creative work) any better. In fact, if we are quoting for the wrong reasons (to show off, or to avoid articulating our own inner wisdom), then such quotes can actually work against us. Finally, when we do bring the wisdom of external source into our writing, let’s be like Boros, and never settle for merely quoting someone just to prove a point. Let’s be courageous enough to meet the wisdom of others with the insight of creativity of our own hearts. Then, in partnership with the Holy Spirit, who knows what will emerge?
And finally…
Here’s a video of Richard Rohr telling the charming story that I opened this blog post with. Enjoy!
Note: the following quotations are excerpted from The Little Book of Christian Mysticism which features over three hundred quotations of the mystics, from Biblical times to the present day.
Seek by reading and you will find by meditating; cry in prayer and the door will be opened in contemplation.
— Saint John of the Cross
The important thing is not to think much, but to love much; do, then, whatever most arouses you to love.
— Saint Teresa of Ávila
As a drop of water poured into wine loses itself, and takes the color and savor of wine; or as a bar of iron, heated red-hot, becomes like fire itself, forgetting its own nature; or as the air, radiant with sun-beams, seems not so much to be illuminated as to be light itself; so in the saints all human affections melt away by some unspeakable transmutation into the will of God. For how could God be all in all, if anything merely human remained in man? The substance will endure, but in another beauty, a higher power, a greater glory.
— Saint Bernard of Clairvaux
The poorest, simplest soul living in the world, and following the common life of good Christians there, if she will faithfully correspond to the internal light and tracts afforded her by God’s Spirit, may as securely, yea, and sometimes more speedily, arrive to the top of the mountain of vision than the most learned doctors, the most profoundly wise men, yea, the most abstracted confined hermits.
— Augustine Baker, OSB
For the soul’s sense is love; by love it perceives whatever it perceives; alike when it is pleased and when it is offended. When the soul reaches out in love to anything, a certain change takes place in it by which it is transmuted into the object loved; it does not become of the same nature as that object, but by its affection it is conformed to what it loves.
— William of St. Thierry
As your meditation becomes deeper it will defend you from the perpetual assaults of the outer world. You will hear the busy hum of that world as a distant exterior melody, and know yourself to be in some sort withdrawn from it. You have set a ring of silence between you and it; and behold! within that silence you are free.
— Evelyn Underhill
Be at peace with your own soul, then heaven and earth will be at peace with you. Eagerly enter into the treasure house that is within you, and so you will see the things that are in heaven; for there is but one single entry to them both. The ladder that leads to the Kingdom is hidden within your soul.
— Saint Isaac the Syrian
The grace of salvation, the grace of Christian wholeness that flowers in silence, dispels this illusion of separation. For when the mind is brought to stillness, and all our strategies of acquisition have dropped, a deeper truth presents itself: we are and have always been one with God and we are all one in God (Jn 17:21).
— Martin Laird
I pray you: seek more to embody God than to merely have knowledge of God. For knowledge can deceive us with pride, but a meek, loving awareness will not deceive. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up (I Corinthians 8:1). Knowledge leads to travail, whereas awareness leads to rest.
— The Book of Privy Counselling
Just as a covered object left out in the sun cannot be penetrated by the sun’s rays, in the same way, once the covering of the soul is removed, the soul opens itself fully to the rays of the sun. The more rust of sin is consumed by fire, the more the soul responds to that love, and its joy increases.
— Saint Catherine of Genoa
Truly it is a trustworthy word and deserving of every welcome, your almighty Word, Lord, which in such deep silence made its way down from the Father’s royal throne and speaks to us better by its silence. Hear what this loving and mysterious silence of the eternal Word speaks to us. He speaks peace for the holy people upon whom reverence for him and his example impose a religious silence.
— Guerric of Igny
It seems to me that I have found my Heaven on earth, since Heaven is God, and God is in my soul. The day I understood that, everything became clear to me. I would like to whisper this secret to those I love so they too might always cling to God through everything.
