In my wallet I carry a photograph of my wife.
I light a candle when I pray.
Recently on EWTN, the Catholic TV channel, I watched a programme on the 'Iconoclast' period of the Eastern Church. Of course the Holy Spirit sided with the victors in this debate and after some to-ing and fro-ing the Eastern Church endorsed the use of icons as valid visual aids. A cathedral in Transylvania, St. Michaels, which has been Catholic since the 19th century, has on its walls the remnants of images that were defaced by Reformers in the 16th century. While the Third Commandment of my Catholic youth was "remember to keep holy the Sabbath day", in the Book of Common Prayer when I last visited my local Church of Ireland, the Third Commandment forbad the use of 'graven images'. This did not, it seems, include the stained glass windows of this beautiful church.
I do not, myself, find visual aids particularly useful in my prayer life but surely only the blind could conceive of such things as having no usefulness at all. In my study I have a number of religious artefacts which I regard as being more of an artistic rather than religious nature. However sometimes when I make eye contact with an icon of Jesus which I purchased at a Greek monastery the image creates a strange feeling in me: "Who am I looking at?"
If someone was to kneel in prayer in front of some such image there are the possibilities that he is using the image as a means of focusing his mind on the eternal or that he is engaging in an exercise of superstitious idolatry. The real point here is that either the positive or negative possibility is realised, not in the image, but in the heart of the worshipper. The guidance of any truly Universal Church should focus, not on the externals, but on the correct attitude to be adopted by the worshipper. Firstly the optional nature of the use of such aids should be stressed and, if an individual should find such things useful, the spiritual guidance should stress the correct attitude the worshipper should adopt regarding the image, and warn against regarding the image itself as the repository of the divine with magical or occult properties.
Next to my icon of Jesus is an item of beautiful Islamic calligraphy with a verse from the Koran. While this does obey the Islamic injunction against graven images it surely fills the same religious niche as an icon or 'holy picture'. Accordingly even though it consists of the written word rather than a pictorial image it is possible that such an artefact could be abused in the same manner as an image of Jesus or a saint. And accordingly so could any form of sacred written word.
It would not be unusual for a member of the Church of Ireland, when hearing the Angelus bell on RTE, to silently pray the Lords' Prayer. The form my particular dissent would take in such an instance would be to pray to the Lords Krishna, Rama and Iosa. The prayer to Krishna and Rama as recited by the 'Hare Krishna' movement is well known in the West but to address Krishna and Rama in, more or less, this manner is commonplace in India. Iosa is both the Irish word for Jesus and is phonetically similar to the Hindu word for the Jesus that St. Thomas preached in India almost 2000 years ago. Thus in this prayer I dissent, not from 'Mariolatry', which I regard as an imperfect, but sincere, method of approaching the feminine aspect of the Godhead, but from the doctrine of the unique divinity of Jesus. Any sentient being in the universe is a son or daughter of God even if this state is more highly developed in some than in others. When I pray "Hare Krishna" I meditate on the teachings of the Bhagavad-Gita. When I pray "Hare Rama" I think of the scripture Ramayana and the concept of life, all life, as an epic journey to God. And the words "Hare Iosa" bring to mind Jesus, divine perhaps, but not uniquely so.
This, I admit, is on a good day. On a bad day I fall into the trap of mindlessly mouthing sounds. The 'Hare Krishna' cult is often, rightly I feel, accused of this. On either 'day' I say the same words but these words may be genuine prayer or the religious equivalent of 'white noise'.
Whether in the case of sacred images, sacred text or spoken prayer, the dividing line between a genuine approach to God and idolatry exists primarily in the heart of the individual. We should be free to use such resources as we see fit, but guard against possible abuse. Spiritual guidance should likewise be open to advising on the possible benefits and dangers. However in the last resort it is the spiritual growth of the individual which will be judged and not any particular technique that she might have found useful.

Brendan Burke MA(Phil). 18th April 2008.