In these times of repression and fear, exercising imagination can be a revolutionary act. The Quaker teacher Parker Palmer says, “Hope is holding a creative tension between what is and what could and should be, and each day doing something to narrow the distance between the two.” So we are going to spend the Advent season letting the biblical prophets fill our imaginations with the beauty, the color and the power of what could and should be.

The prophets of ancient Israel also lived in difficult, dangerous times. Warring empires overran their small nation repeatedly. In the midst of this tumult, kings often ruled unjustly and unwisely, refusing to listen to God and God’s prophets. Invading armies destroyed Jerusalem and the temple. The nation’s leaders were dragged off into Babylon, spending many generations as displaced people. Isaiah is a long book, written by the hands of many prophets, amid this saga of exile and return. Today’s reading from chapter 65 is from the last section, which scholars call third Isaiah. Third Isaiah chronicles the people’s homecoming. Their return was joyful and it was hard. The people needed not to re-member certain former things, not to repeat their generational trauma, not to bring to life again empire’s patterns of abuse and domination.

And yet, remembering was needed, remembering of a more generative sort. In today’s poetry, the prophet hearkens back to the opening chapters of Genesis. The creation narrative sought to explain why we suffer, why farmers toil to grow food in thistle-infested ground, why childbirth is painful and dangerous, why violence breaks out among kin. Similarly a nation in exile experienced the curses of early death, homes and fields taken over by invaders, labor exploited by conquers. Isaiah was rewriting the story, reversing the curses that beset the creation, as the first humans, having stolen the forbidden fruit, were banished from the Garden of Eden. Now the prophet sees God’s creativity at work again, bringing forth a new heavens and a new earth, a new way of living together on this planet. He imagines not pie in the sky perfection, but simply lives that are complete and a world that is whole—a peaceful society in which everyone can plant and eat, can belong and be at home.

St. Ignatius of Loyola founded the order of the Jesuits in the 1500s in Spain. He wrote a book, a compilation of meditations, prayers, and contemplative practices known as the Spiritual Exercises. One of these exercises uses imagination to approach scripture. The person praying engages with the five senses to step into a biblical passage and have conversation with God. As we focus on using our imagination during this Advent season, I wanted to offer you this tool, this ancient form of prayer. Let’s experiment with it now.

First, we invite the Spirit into our contemplation. Please pray with me. Holy Spirit, come. Open the eyes of our hearts. Spark our imagination with your creative presence. Amen. Now [as you read the passage (below)], slowly try visualize the text in your mind as if you were making a movie. Pay attention to the details, to what your senses experience.

As the scene unfolded in your mind, what did you see, hear, taste, smell or feel?

Now [take] some minutes of quiet to continue to pray with this text. Using your imagination, try to place yourself in the movie you’ve created. Where are you? What are you doing? Who else is there? What feelings come up? What is comforting or challenging? What insights arise? What is God saying to you?

Let us pray. Thank you God, for the gift of imagination and for the ways you meet us in scripture, giving us courage and hope as we live in creative tension between what is and what could and should be. Amen.