Martin Scorsese on imaginative prayer and being a Catholic filmmaker

It should come as no surprise to any listener of “The Spiritual Life,” or frankly, any moviegoer, that Martin Scorsese is a Catholic. Even a cursory glance at his films reveals a deeply Catholic sensibility; moreover, some of his films have tackled explicitly religious themes, most notably “The Last Temptation of Christ,” based on the novelized life of Christ by Nikos Kazantzakis, and “Silence,” based on the novel about 17th-century Jesuit missionaries in Japan, by Shusaku Endo. (The latter film was the occasion for my first meeting with Mr. Scorsese, in my role as one of the film’s many advisors.)

In our conversation, Mr. Scorsese (“Marty” to his many friends) discusses his upbringing in a Catholic family on the Lower East Side of New York City and the influence of a young priest, the Rev. Francis Principe, who, while on the staff of the Basilica of St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral (a.k.a. “Old St. Pat’s) exposed the asthmatic boy to literature, philosophy and a deeper understanding of Catholicism. Mr. Scorsese describes how Father Principe encouraged him to consider the priesthood, leading him to enter a minor seminary. Mr. Scorsese ultimately decided against becoming a priest after realizing, as he describes it, the depth of the commitment required.

In addition to discussing the influence of Catholicism on his films, Mr. Scorsese also describes his recent experience of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola and how it has deepened his sense of proximity to and friendship with Jesus, while also challenging him in his daily life and relationships. The Spiritual Exercises are a plan for a retreat—sometimes done over 30 days in a retreat house setting, sometimes done over a much longer period of time “in daily life”—during which one meditates on the life of Christ. (Full disclosure: I was Mr. Scorsese’s spiritual director during his time with the Exercises and, as I mention in our conversation, only respond to what he shares about the experience.)

Martin Scorsese is, obviously, a very visual person, and when he describes his encounter with Christ in the Exercises, it sounds as if he is blocking out a scene in one of his films. But this is very much in line with what St. Ignatius called “composing the place.” In the Spiritual Exercises, as in Ignatian contemplation in general, one imagines oneself in the Gospel scene with as much detail as possible. 

“It is to immerse yourself in this world and to know Jesus,” as Mr. Scorsese says in our conversation. Imagination is key to entering into the Spiritual Exercises.

“In the Nativity,” he said, by way of example, “it’s putting yourself in a real situation.” He then described exactly what he imagined Joseph and Mary would be doing at the time. “There are ways of trying to understand even the texture and the smell of the place.”

This follows what St. Ignatius said in the Spiritual Exercises about the meditation on the Nativity, in which the retreatant will “see with the sight of the imagination the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem…likewise looking at the place or the cave of the Nativity, how large, how small, how low, how high and how it was prepared.”

One of the most common questions people have when invited to pray with their imagination is: Isn’t this just “making things up”? Even if you have an active imagination, why should you believe that God will be made known through the insights, emotions, desires and so on that arise in your imaginative prayer? (And, by the way, while some people are more “visual people,” everyone has an imagination.)

I asked that question myself once, in my first few weeks of the Jesuit novitiate, to my assistant novice director, David I. Donovan, S.J., an experienced spiritual director. David had just described for me “composition of place” and encouraged me to try praying in “the Jesuit way.” I balked: Why would I want to just “make things up in my head,” as I recall asking?

David smiled and said, “Do you think God works through the sacraments?” Of course, I said. “How about through Scripture?” Yes, I said. Then he broadened things out a bit, and I was reminded of St. Ignatius’ approach to “finding God in all things.” “How about through relationships, your family and your friends?” Yes, yes, yes.

“O.K.,” David said. “How about nature, music and the fine arts?” Sure, I said.

“Then why couldn’t God work through your imagination?” he finally asked. David reminded me that, as a gift from God, it could be used to experience God. Of course, one needs to discern what comes up in one’s imagination, but for many people, including myself, it is one of the most rewarding ways to pray.

As Martin Scorsese recounts, praying in this way, “immersing” yourself in the Life of Christ, can help you to deepen not only your understanding of the Gospels but your relationship with Jesus Christ who is alive through the Spirit and made present to us in so many ways, including our imagination. That goes for not only an Oscar-winning filmmaker with a fabled imagination, but for simple believers like you and me.