The Imagination and Interior Mortification

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

“Unless a man is born again of water and the Holy Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of Heaven” (John 3:3).

In the Gospel, Our Lord has an intimate dialogue that took place at night between Himself and Nicodemus. Nicodemus is moved by the preaching and the miracles of Our Lord, and he feels the need to know more.

He shows a lot of respect for Our Lord: he says, “Rabbi.” “Master,” he calls Him.

He asks Our Lord about His mission, perhaps still uncertain of whether Our Lord is just another prophet, or if He is the Messiah.

“Rabbi,” he says to Him, “we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these things that you do, unless God is with him” (John 3:2).

Our Lord replies in an unexpected way. Nicodemus asks about His mission and Jesus reveals to him an astonishing truth: “a man must be born again.”

He's speaking of a spiritual birth by water and the Holy Spirit: a whole new world is unfolding before the eyes of Nicodemus.

Our Lord's words also open up an unlimited horizon for the spiritual advancement of any Christian who allows himself to be led with docility by the inspirations and notions of the Holy Spirit, because interior life does not consist solely in acquiring a series of natural virtues or of observing certain pious practices.

It's a question of a complete transformation—of, in fact, “being born again,” which Our Lord asks from us.

St. Paul said to the Ephesians, “You must rid yourself of the old self according to which you have lived your past life” (Eph. 4:22).

That interior transformation is, above all, a work of grace in the soul, but it requires our collaboration also by way of mortification of the intellect, of the memory, and of the imagination, so as to purify our potencies for the life of Christ to develop freely within us.

Many Christians don't make any progress in their dealings with God in prayer because they neglect interior mortification, without which exterior mortification loses its foundation.

The imagination is a very useful faculty because the soul, which is united to the body, cannot think without the help of images.

Our Lord spoke to the people by means of parables, expressing the most profound truths by means of images, and we see how He follows the same procedure with Nicodemus.

The imagination can be a great help in the interior life, for contemplating the life of Our Lord or the mysteries of the Rosary.

“But for it to be beneficial, the imagination has to be directed by right reason and illumined by faith. Otherwise,” said one spiritual writer, “it could become what has been called ‘the mad person of the house.’ It takes us away from the consideration of divine things and draws us towards those that are vain, frivolous, fantastic, and even prohibited.

“Even in the best of cases, it can lead us to daydreaming, from where sentimentalism may arise, which is also opposed to true piety” (Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life).

Because of our situation of original sin, the subjection of the imagination to reason can usually be achieved only through mortification, “with the result that it ceases to be ‘the mad person of the house’ and confines itself to its own specific purpose, which is that of serving the intelligence enlightened by faith” (Ibid.).

Allowing our imagination to roam freely means wasting time, which is a gift from God and part of the inheritance left us by Our Lord.

We are told in The Way, Point 13, “Get rid of those useless thoughts, which, at best, are but a waste of time.”

And in the Furrow, Point 135, we’re told, “Besides, the imagination which is lost in fantastic and sterile dreams is a fertile field in which a great number of voluntary temptations are sure to appear to convert our useless thoughts into a real occasion of sin.”

When this interior mortification is lacking, the dreams of the imagination can become centered on our own talents, on how well we performed a particular action, on the admiration—perhaps also unreal—which we provoked in certain people or in our own environment.

Also, what started out as a useless thought can evolve into a loss of that rectitude of intention, which up to then had been intact.

Then pride, which is always at the ready, takes shape from something that appeared at first to be totally innocent, and if not stopped in time, it destroys anything good it finds.

In particular, it destroys a large part of that attention which is due to others, preventing us from noticing their needs and practicing charity.

One writer says, “The proud person's horizon is terribly limited; it stops at himself. He can see no further than himself, his qualities, his virtues, his talent. His is a godless horizon. Even other people have no place on this cramped horizon; there is no room for them” (Salvatore Canals, Jesus as Friend).

At other times, the imagination entertains itself by judging other people's way of acting, and often makes judgments that are negative and lacking in objectivity, because when one does not look upon others with understanding and with the desire of helping them, one takes an unjustly partial view of them.

When we examine somebody in this way, we can end up with all sorts of problems.

When we examine somebody without the charity of understanding, we can judge their behavior coldly, without taking into account the motives they may have had for acting in that way, or we can gratuitously attribute something bad, or something less good, to another's action without any foundation for doing so.

Only God can penetrate hidden things, and read the heart's truth, and give their true value to all circumstances.

Through a blameworthy superficiality, these useless thoughts can lead to rash judgment, which springs from a heart with little rectitude and no presence of God.

Interior mortification in regard to these useless thoughts would have avoided this interior lack of charity, which separates a person from God and from others.

The Curé of Ars, St. John Mary Vianney, said, “The reason for so many rash judgments is that they are considered to be of little importance. Nevertheless, if it is a question of grave matter, it can lead to the committing of grave sins.”

It often happens, if we are not alert in cutting off useless thoughts and offering this mortification to Our Lord, that our imagination will rotate around ourselves, creating fictitious situations that are little or in no way compatible with the Christian vocation of a child of God who should have their heart set on Him.

These thoughts cool the heart. They separate from God and afterwards make it difficult to maintain the right climate of dialogue with Our Lord in the midst of our affairs.

We could examine ourselves in our prayer and see how we are doing with this business of interior mortification, which can help us so much to keep the presence of Our Lord in our lives, and helps us to avoid many inappropriate things, temptations, and sins.

It is worthwhile to meditate seriously on this in a deep fashion, with the desire to make effective resolutions.

Mortification of the imagination brings with it countless benefits for the soul. It’s not just a matter of a purely negative task, nor does it lie on the frontiers of sin, but in the area of presence of God and of love.

Mortification of the imagination purifies the soul and disposes it to living presence of God better and causes us to make good use of the time dedicated to prayer, because it is the imagination and its fancies that can often inhibit dialogue with Our Lord, and which can distract us when we should be more attentive, particularly in Mass and with Holy Communion.

Mortification of the imagination permits us to make better use of our time at work, to do it conscientiously and sanctify it. In the area of charity, it facilitates our being attentive to others, instead of being wrapped up in ourselves and immersed in dreams.

The imagination that is purified by means of constant mortification, in which useless thoughts are promptly rejected, has an important role to play in the interior life, in our dealings with God.

It helps us to meditate on the scenes of the Gospel, to accompany Our Lord in the years at Nazareth with Joseph and Mary, in His public life with the Apostles.

In particular, it can be a great help in contemplating the Passion of Our Lord and the mysteries of the Rosary.

In Friends of God, Point 216, we are told, “Make it a habit to mingle frequently with the characters who appear in the New Testament.

“Capture the flavor of those moving scenes where the Master performs works that are both divine and human, and tells us, with human and divine touches, the wonderful story of his pardon for us and his enduring love for his children. Those foretastes of heaven are renewed today, for the Gospel is always true.”

St. Josemaría continues, “If at times we don't feel strong enough to follow in the footsteps of Our Lord, we can say a few loving words to those who knew him well during his life on earth. To Our Lady, first of all, for she it was who brought him to us. Then to the Apostles.

“‘There were certain Gentiles who approached Philip, the man from Bethsaida in Galilee, and made a request of him: ‘Sir,’ they said, ‘We desire to see Jesus.’ Philip came and told Andrew, and together Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus’ (John 12:20-22). ... Most foreigners didn't dare approach the Master directly, so they looked for a good intercessor” (Josemaría Escrivá, Friends of God, Point 252).

Purification of the soul through interior mortification is not something merely negative. It's not just a matter of avoiding what borders on sin; quite the opposite. It consists of knowing how to deprive ourselves, for love of God, of things that would be quite licit to have.

This mortification, which tends to purify the mind of everything that is not of God, aims in the first place at freeing the memory from recollections that would oppose the way that leads to heaven.

Those memories can assault us during our work, or our rest, and even while we're praying. Without violence, but promptly, we can try to apply the means to get rid of them.

We can struggle to make the effort which is necessary for our mind to fill itself once more with love and a longing for the things of God.

Something similar can happen to the imagination. It often can upset us by inventing all kinds of novels, weaving fantastic fictions which are quite useless. Then you have to try to react quickly and return serenely to your ordinary task.

Interior purification does not end with emptying the understanding of useless thoughts. It opens up pathways to a deeper contemplative life, in whatever circumstances that Our Lord may have placed us.

With that interior silence towards everything that goes against God's wishes and is improper to His children, the soul finds itself well disposed of for a continuous and intimate dialogue with Our Lord.

We have many benefits to obtain from that mortification of our imagination.

We're told in the Entrance Antiphon, “Behold, the Lord will come down in all his splendor to give his people peace and bring them eternal life.”

Our Lord comes to bring us peace and to give us that eternal life promised from of old: peace in our thoughts, peace in our hearts, peace in our imagination.

He has to find us like that good servant who doesn't fall asleep during his master's absence, but when the master returns is found at his post, devoted to his duty (Luke 12:43).

“What I say to you,” we're told in St. Mark, “I say to all: watch” (Mark 13:37). Those words of vigilance are addressed to men of all times.

Be vigilant with your thoughts, with your imagination. These are words that Our Lord speaks to each one of us because we can all tend towards drowsiness and comfort-seeking.

We're told we can't allow our hearts “to become dulled with gluttony and drunkenness and the cares of this life” (Luke 21:34). In that way, we would lose that supernatural outlook that should give life to everything we do.

We have to await Our Lord's coming with a vigilant spirit. We shouldn't be fearful, like people caught doing wrong. We shouldn't be distracted, like people who have placed their heart in earthly things.

We need to be attentive and cheerful, like eager people who expect a long-awaited loved one.

Keeping watch with our thoughts, with that interior mortification, is a matter of loving. We may have difficulties in keeping our love awake.

Selfishness, a lack of mortification and temperance always threaten to extinguish the flame that Our Lord lights time and again in our hearts.

That's why we need constantly to revive the flame, to shake ourselves out of any repetitive routine, to struggle.

St. Paul compares this watchfulness to the well-armed soldier on guard duty who does not allow himself to be taken by surprise (1 Cor. 16:13).

“Guard, how goes the night?” (Josemaría Escrivá, Furrow, Point 960; cf. Isa. 21:11).

By putting our faith into practice in this way, we can find a lot of interior strength and optimism which we need to fulfill our family and social duties: not allowing our minds to rest on useless thoughts; focusing on what's important; having a sense of order in our mind, a sense of priorities.

Family values, somebody said once, is family priorities. The best times in our life should be at home and with our family, with our mind there, our thoughts there.

At the same time, we try to detach ourselves from earthly things and foster a mastery that comes from the hope of eternal life.

We've been told frequently in Scripture that the meeting with Our Lord will not come unexpectedly for the Christian who has been on the watch. For that person, Our Lord will not come “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:2).

There will be no surprises, because there will already have been many meetings with Him each day, meetings in the sacraments and in the ordinary happenings of the day which have been full of love and friendship.

We can ask Our Lord for that vigilance in our thoughts. “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matt. 26:41).

That interior mortification of our thoughts has to be in the little things of each day, in our daily prayer and our examination of conscience. Our spirit of small mortifications will help to keep all these things alert.

We're alert when we make an effort to improve our personal prayer, which in turn increases our desire for sanctity. It helps us to avoid lukewarmness.

We stay awake to the things of God by living a spirit of mortification. We strengthen our vigilance through doing a careful examination of our conscience.

Sometimes St. Josemaría would ask people, “What are you thinking about?” ¿En qué piensas? By that, he meant, Where is your mind? Where are your thoughts?

What are you dreaming about? Is your mind and your thoughts in the things of God, in the things of the apostolate, in souls?

So that we don't fall into the situation described by St. Augustine, as though spoken by God, when he says: “For while you give yourself up to evil, you come to consider yourself good, because you do not take the trouble to look at yourself.

“You reproach others, and you do not take stock of yourself. You accuse others and you do not examine yourself. You place them before your very eyes and you place yourself behind your back.

“So when the time comes for me to reckon with you, I shall do the opposite; I will turn you around and confront you with yourself. Then you will see yourself, and you will weep” (St. Augustine, Sermon 17).

That spirit of interior mortification has to be in the little things that fill our day.

St. Josemaría in The Way, Point 307, said, “That supernatural mode of conduct is a truly military tactic. You carry on the war—the daily struggles of your interior life—far from the main walls of the fortress.

“And the enemy meets you there: in your small mortifications, your customary prayer, your methodical work, your plan of life: and only with difficulty will he come close to the easily scaled battlements of your castle. And if he does, he comes exhausted.”

We can try to imitate Our Lady, who kept all these things—the events of Our Lord's life and the ordinary events that went to make up her life—“kept all these things” carefully in her heart as “she pondered them” (Luke 1:19, 51).

Mary, help us to live in the presence of God, so that we can keep our mind on things that are important and place our mind on the things that God wants us to place them in: in souls, in the apostolate, in the great evangelization that God has called us to, to carry out.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

RK