Have you ever tried Ignatian prayer?  Have you ever heard of Ignatian prayer before?  Do you have any idea what I’m talking about! 

Ignatius of Loyola was the founder of the Jesuits, one of the largest and most influential religious orders in the Catholic Church.  He was also a mystic, someone who had phenomenal experiences of God.  One of the prayer techniques which he regularly used and which every Jesuit to this day is taught, is called Ignatian prayer. 

Ignatian prayer is very different way to pray with Scripture.  Normally, we read a scripture passage and then prayerfully reflect on how it might be speaking to us.  Or, we meditate on its meaning, trying to tease out insights that will deepen our faith and guide our path.  In short, we usually approach Scripture in a heady, intellectual way.  But Ignatius developed a method of contemplating scripture that puts you in the middle of the action.  So you can experience it.  So you can feel it. 

Using our imagination, Ignatian prayer engages all of the senses.  It enables us to contemplate a passage with both our heads and our hearts and experience it in a fresh and powerful new way.  Ignatian prayer  works especially well with the Gospels—scenes from Jesus’ life. 

This is how you go about it: Pick a passage and read through it once, quickly.  Then, choose a character in the scene and, letting your imagination run free, slowly read through the passage again.  But this time, view it from that character’s perspective.  So, for example, you might choose to be a bystander in the crowd.  Or, you might want to be one of Jesus’ disciples.  Or, you might take the place of someone Jesus forgives or heals.  Or, you might decide to see the story from the perspective of Jesus Himself.  The key is that you engage all your senses as you slowly contemplate the passage. 

For example, if it’s at a meal, you imagine smelling the bread baking in the background and then tasting it once it’s served.  You imagine the sensation the surface you’re sitting on feels like, say a crude piece of wooden furniture or the dirt floor people often reclined on to eat.  You imagine the sound of Jesus’ voice—is it a powerful, booming voice that cuts to the heart, or is He speaking in a gentle, soothing tone that is profoundly comforting?  You look into the faces of those around you, noticing details like the color of their eyes and the sundrenched tone of their skin, and pay attention to the affect of their expressions as the action unfolds. 

As millions of people down through the ages have found, praying with scripture this way can help open you up to a closer, more intimate union with Christ.  It can enable you to experience, in deeper and surprising ways, the divine grace that is available through the power of His Word.  And, it can enable you to gain life-transforming insights into scripture that you might otherwise miss. 

I think one of the most overlooked and underrated passages in the Bible is the story of Jesus healing the leper in Mark 1:40-45.  This is a great passage to try Ignatian prayer with because, when we normally read it, we miss one of the most moving and tender-hearted scenes in all of the Gospels. 

In ancient times, leprosy was a dreaded disease.  In advanced cases, it was physically devastating.  Leprosy (called Hansen’s disease) still occurs today.  But we are now able to treat it so that it rarely if ever reaches an advanced state anymore.  However, in Jesus’ day, lepers often experienced the advanced effects.  Leprosy begins as a skin condition—rashes, nodules, and lesions appear on the skin and can be uncomfortable and unsightly.  As it progresses, though, leprosy can cause severe nerve damage.  It can even cripple you, causing a complete loss of function in the arms and legs.  It can also effect the optic nerves, eventually causing blindness.  And, in its most advanced state, it is disfiguring.  At times, all that is evident in a person’s face are the openings for their eyes, nose, and mouth.  The facial features that made them distinctive are completely gone.

But as bad as all this is, it wasn’t the worst part of leprosy in Jesus’ day.  The worst part was the social stigma attached to it.  Confined from the rest of society, lepers were totally isolated.  They were cast out from all human contact.  And this was the source of their greatest suffering. 

Ancient Jews believed that people who suffered chronic diseases like leprosy somehow brought it on themselves through their sin.  Moreover, they believed that sin was contagious.  Just coming into contact with a sinner or eating a meal with them caused you to become a sinner too.  Nobody wanted to take the chance of “catching” someone else’s sin and suffering the effects that went along with it.  In Leviticus, the Old Testament Law forced lepers to isolate themselves from the community and quarantine themselves from all social contact.  They were even forced to cry out “Unclean, unclean!” wherever they went.  This was intended to warn everyone else so they could keep a safe distance.  Many lepers hadn’t felt any human touch for years, if not decades.     

So, one day, this leper approaches Jesus.  As prescribed by law, he keeps a safe distance and, from afar, cries out to Jesus: “Master, I know that if you want to heal me, you can!”  This is a remarkable statement of faith.  In that period, it was believed that healing leprosy, along with blindness and raising the dead, was virtually impossible.  Every once in a blue moon one of these healings just might happen.  But these were the rarest of all miracles.  But look at this leper’s faith.  He has no doubt Jesus can heal him.  He has no doubt Jesus can do the impossible for him.  No doubt that the power of God resides in Jesus.  No doubt that Jesus is somehow God come among us.  What he wonders is if Jesus wants to heal him.  If He will address his need.  If He cares.  If He—if God—loves him, a forgotten, untouchable, outcast.  It’s a heart-wrenching plea. 

When Jesus hears the leper’s cry, Mark tells us that He is moved with compassion or, as other translations have it, pity.  There is no good English equivalent for the Greek word Mark uses to capture Jesus’ reaction.  But compassion and pity are far too weak.  What the Greek actually says is that Jesus is moved in the deepest part of his being, literally, in the depth of his gut or bowels.  In other words, he couldn’t be more deeply moved with love for this leper. 

Immediately—as Mark emphasizes—Jesus tells the leper, “I do will it; be healed.”  And immediately—as Mark emphasizes again—the leper is healed.  It’s a stunning miracle.  And now, once the leper can have a Jewish priest declare his leprosy healed, which Jesus instructs him to do right away, he will regain human fellowship.  He is restored, in every way. 

But the most stunning part of this miracle is a little detail we usually miss.  What makes this story so touching and dramatic is something that we don’t normally see unless we are slowly contemplating the passage with something like Ignatian prayer.

Jesus often heals at a distance.  He can heal simply by the power of his word.  To come anywhere near to the leper would be risky and potentially very damaging.   Jesus might “catch” his sin and put Himself in a state of ritual impurity.  This would scandalize the crowds.  It would jeopardize Jesus’ status as a holy person.  It would cause people to doubt that God could be at work in Him. 

But Jesus doesn’t care.  He completely obliterates all the boundaries we humans erect.  In the most moving part of this story, He goes out of His way to do something He clearly doesn’t need to do.  “Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him.” (v. 41)  Jesus chooses to heal the leper by touching him.  Approaching him.  Grabbing hold of him.  Giving him the one thing his soul is longing for most: human contact.  A loving touch.  Jesus not only addresses the leper’s physical need.  He heals his soul, the deepest need he has. 

It’s hard to believe, but it’s almost been a year since the pandemic began.  Or at least the measures that have been put in place to stem it.  And in many ways, we can relate to the way this leper felt.  For one thing, we don’t want to be around anyone with COVID—or anyone who might possibly have it.  We dread catching it and don’t want to be around anyone who is contagious.  And other people don’t want to be around us on the chance we might be contagious!  For another thing, many of us are feeling the devastating effects of social isolation.  We may not be as isolated as the leper, but we are craving the human contact we were used to.  We are craving being able to hug people, to see their faces, to be close to one another again. 

But perhaps the way we relate best to this leper is with his question about God.  As the pandemic drags on, we wonder: Where is God?  Does He want to help us?  Does He care?  Does He love us?  We know He has the power to do all things.  We know He can do anything He wants.  If only we could be sure He loves us, we wouldn’t have any doubt that He will get us through this.  That He will get us through anything.  After all, if God is for us, what can stand against us? 

But this pandemic is making us wonder how God feels about us.  How does God feel about us? 

Well, if you want to know, look no further than the story of Jesus and the leper.  This story leaves no doubt that God couldn’t be more deeply moved by our plight.  It leaves no doubt that He cares.  It leaves no doubt that He loves us, and in the most tender-hearted, attentive, gratuitous way. 

It couldn’t be any clearer.  This is the assurance our souls crave. 

Here it is.  This is the touch that heals our souls too.       

So, now that you’ve heard about Ignatian prayer, do you think you’ll try it?  Of if you already knew about it, how has your experience of it been?  I’d love to hear your thoughts on this or anything else.  You can go to the “Contact E.J.” page of the Raising Jesus website and leave your comments there.