Adventures in Empathetic Prayer

Yesterday I prayed the Chaplet of the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady instead of playing ePlush over my lunch break, as is my Lenten wont, and it occurred to me on the second sorrow that putting myself in Mary’s place would make the prayer that much more meaningful. (So I didn’t imagine hearing the Prophecy of Simeon.) It was so vivid: I could imagine during the Flight to Egypt that I would be tired and hot and thirsty, not to mention trying desperately to learn Coptic since I only spoke Aramaic. Then I could imagine searching for my missing preteen son, running desperately all over Jerusalem, hollering, “Yeshua! Where are you?” I could imagine St. John and Mary Magdalene trying to convince me not to see how they were treating my Son as He carried His cross, but I would insist and then see Him beaten and staggering under the heavy cross, and I would think, “Unfair! Even the worst criminals are either beaten or crucified, but not both! And what has my Son done? Spoken about the love of God? Healed the sick?” I could imagine myself watching them nail Him to the cross and waiting below it as He died, and the soldier spearing His side, and being amazed to see water and blood pouring out. I imagined Mary Magdalene saying the one blessing of His having been beaten is at least He didn’t suffer as long on the cross. I imagined the soldiers taking Him down from the cross and placing him in my arms, and I rocked Him like an infant, murmuring, “My son! My son!” I could even imagine how bewildered I would be when the soldiers told me some man named Joseph from Arimathea had claimed the body, but St. John talked to him and found out he was secretly a disciple of my Son, and I felt a tiny bit of joy that at least His followers might continue what He had begun. I imagined we all followed Joseph to a new tomb in a lovely garden, and I felt some peace when anointing my Son’s body with herbs and wrapping it in linen, seeing that at least in death He would have some of the dignity He was not given during His execution.

Sounds very spiritual and Lenten, right? So logically I thought it would be a great idea to use the same technique while praying the Rosary. However, yesterday being Wednesday, I prayed the Glorious Mysteries…with much less success using this imagination technique. The first Glorious Mystery was fine, as I imagined my joy at discovering my Son had risen from the dead, but trying to imagine the Ascension was difficult because I got stuck on the question of whether Jesus ascended slowly or quickly. Then I got really distracted trying to imagine Pentecost, because all I could think was, “Now do I have all knowledge? Does that mean I understand calculus?” And the last two Glorious Mysteries? Forget it! I have no idea what it would be like to be assumed body and soul into Heaven, or to be crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth. So this method of praying definitely has its limits, at least for me.

Famous Hat