|
In the First Revelation, Julian of Norwich writes: And in this [sight], he showed a little thing the quantity of a hazelnut, lying in the palm of my hand as it seemed to me, and it was as round as any ball. I looked therein with the eye of my understanding, and thought: “What may this be?” And it was answered generally thus: “It is all that is made.” I marveled how it might last, for it seemed to me it might suddenly have fallen into nought [nothing] for its littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: “It lasteth and ever shall, because God loveth it. And so hath all things being by the love of God.”
Here, Julian is suddenly shown, through an imaginative vision, what seems to be a perfectly round hazelnut lying in the palm of her hand. How many times she had held, cracked, and eaten raw or roasted hazelnuts, ground them with a mortar and pestle to make a paste or sauce, pressed them to produce flavorful hazelnut oil, followed a recipe calling for a quantity of butter or lard “the size of a hazelnut,” or saved one half of the nut covering to use as a makeshift measuring spoon for salt and spices . . . She looks more deeply with the inner eye of her understanding and asks the first of many questions in her text: “What may this be?” She makes very clear that she was answered not specifically from the Lord’s mouth but in a general way, through an illumination given directly to her mind. The response was short, direct, precise: “It is all that is made.” The moment is stunning in its simplicity and grandeur. Julian realizes in a flash how precious the little nut is, simply because it exists, and, as such, it encapsulates “all that is made.” But how could it be “all that is made” if it is so small and so innocuous? Why, it could so easily fall into “nought,” or complete nothingness, because of its very littleness, disintegrate into the earth unnoticed, as Julian had seen so many hazelnut casings turn to compost in the garden. It is as if Julian’s inner eye became a floating telescope, zooming out to view infinite space, revealing the minuteness of planet Earth in the immensity of the cosmos. What power allows such a tiny thing to exist at all and cares enough to sustain it in existence? She is approaching the ultimate metaphysical question: How is there anything at all? Again, she is answered not by externally spoken words but by a voice within: “It lasteth, and ever shall, because God loveth it.” And in the same way do all things exist or “have being” from moment to moment, solely because of the love of God. Some people, as they lie on their deathbeds, see their lives pass before them in a flash. Julian (who thought she was on her own deathbed) sees all creation enclosed in the symbol of a something as small as a hazelnut, as miniscule in God’s eye as a tiny round ball floating in space. Nevertheless, the smallness does not mean the hazelnut is any less loved by God for being so little and so ordinary. It is loved equally with suns and moons and stars, all the wonders of nature, and the uniqueness of human beings. In the course of future Revelations, Julian will experience again and again this ever-present, all-pervasive reality of love that alone sustains creation. Rather, creation is nothing else but the expression of Divine Love. Here Julian is given a glimpse into a universe upheld not by physical matter, whether in microcosm or macrocosm, but by the fact of the all-pervasive love of God. . . Julian understands three properties of the hazelnut. Not its hardiness, usefulness, and tastiness. Rather, “the first is that God made it, the second is that God loves it, the third is that God keeps [protects] it.” This trinity of hazelnut attributes strikes her mind with great clarity. Still, she is not sure what the meaning of its sudden appearance in her imagination could be, here and now, for her: “But what is that to me?” she asks, in internal dialogue. The answer comes immediately: “Truly, the maker, the keeper, the lover. . .” Thus, consideration of the humble hazelnut raises her mind once again to the contemplation of Trinity as creator, protector, and eternal lover revealing itself not only in the reality of Jesus Christ, but in and through everything that is made. Now, in a rush of ardor, Julian expresses her life’s longing for God . . . She laments that until she is “substantially oned,” that is, united to God in the very ground of her being, with nothing created interposing itself between herself and God, she cannot have any rest or peace. She feels she must become “fastened” (in her heart) to Christ on the cross, so that there is nothing standing between her and him. This may seem a startling conclusion. Is Julian suddenly denying the holiness and goodness of the “hazelnut,” which she has just understood represents all of creation? How could she? She has seen that it is created, protected, and loved in being by God. But she knows that it is still not God, nor can it ever be. And no matter how good and true and beautiful creation appears, it can never satisfy the soul’s yearning to be “oned” with the One by whom all is created. No creature can ever become God for her. She cannot substitute a hazelnut for a heaven. Julian is echoing the thought of St. Augustine here: “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.” This was a common theme in medieval literature. Julian knows only too well that we continually grasp at what we can see, hear, taste, touch, and hold in the palm of our hands. Too often, what we seek after with such inveterate determination distracts us from the love and service of God, our ultimate destiny. Our ever increasing earthly needs and goals can mount up like a thick wall between the soul and its Creator. We think we are striving after what will make us happy until we either get it and realize it cannot satisfy our fundamental longing, or we lose it and start craving something else. Yet somehow, even though we know our wants always exceed our needs, we start the process over and over again. . . Inspired by this meditation, Julian pours out all her heart’s longing in prayer: God, of thy goodness give me thyself. For thou art enough to me, and I may ask nothing that is less that may be full worship to thee. And if I ask anything that is less, ever will I be wanting. But only in thee do I have all. May this become our own daily prayer of divine longing, surrender, and hope. Note: Quotations above are from my book: Julian's Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books)
0 Comments
Julian of Norwich expresses herself in a woman’s voice that sounds decidedly different from the exclusively male voices in which she would have been accustomed to hearing the gospel proclaimed. Her voice is not that of a celibate cleric, nor a canon law expert, nor an ecclesiastical judge. Nor does her writing have a monastic tone to it. Julian’s book is full of a distinctly feminine sensitivity, along with incisive, analytical reasoning, rich imagery, and down-to-earth common sense. It is neither a treatise nor a catechism, nor is it a systematic guide to the spiritual life, yet it is full of rich teachings on prayer, the practice of faith, hope, and love, as well as personal advice on how to deal with one’s own sense of sinfulness, recurring depression, life’s suffering, and the fear of death.
Julian employs a circular, rather than a strictly linear, method of examining and interpreting Christian truths. She chooses favorite themes, words, and phrases, and returns to them again and again, layering them each time with ever-deeper meaning. This circularity does not in any way undermine her ability to analyze, argue, and categorize her teachings in a rational, linear mode when she so chooses. She allows intuition to inspire her logic and rational explanations to support her mystical insights. Throughout, her moral angst drives her to probe relentlessly, to dare to make astounding theological leaps of thought and faith, but she has no desire merely to be clever, to impress, or to compete with the authoritative reasoning of the scholastics or the didactic sermons of the churchmen. In fact, she cuts through theological hair-splitting and well-accepted religious attitudes, “sharper than any two-edged sword” (Heb 4:12), revealing the hidden marrow of meaning. As Thomas Merton wrote of her in the twentieth century: Julian is without doubt one of the most wonderful of all Christian voices. She gets greater and greater in my eyes as I grow older . . . I think that Julian of Norwich is with [John Henry, Cardinal] Newman the greatest English theologian. She is really that. Besides being a mystical theologian, Julian is willing to reveal her own inner battles, to admit her personal failings as well as her deeply felt longings. . . She may not tell us a lot of intimate details about her day-to-day life, but she does much more: she opens and entrusts to us her mind and heart. She discloses her mighty struggle to integrate her faith in the God she has been taught to believe in with the God of her mystical Revelations. She confronts her confusion head-on. One might even say she writes the first-ever spiritual autobiography in English. Julian addresses the reader directly. She wants each of us to see as she saw, to hear as she heard, to understand as she came to understand. She speaks as a daughter, wife, mother, and concerned friend on every page of her work. She is, by turns, frankly emotional and searingly self-critical, profoundly tempted by doubt and buoyed up by hope. Julian’s pressing questions are not limited to her time; they resonate in every age. They are the same metaphysical questions we keep asking, over and over again. Julian’s asking of these questions, our questions, and her way of telling us how the Lord answered them, reveal a woman passionately concerned about the salvation and ultimate happiness of people she dearly loved. She also shows herself to be a woman of deep prayer, extraordinary faith, and prophetic powers. Julian grows on us. For every man or woman, young or old, believer or skeptic, Julian has a gift. It is the gift of her questing spirit, her daring conviction. It is the gift of her personal witness to Christ’s immense and incomparable compassion. Julian’s Revelations were not written just for the evencristens of her time. Hers is a timeless gospel, composed over six hundred years ago, by one woman for all women and all men who long for the assurance of a love that can never fail. I invite you to read and ponder Julian of Norwich -- in Julian's Gospel or An Explorer's Guide to Julian of Norwich (both available in paperback and on Kindle). Please don't limit your knowledge of Julian to a few favorite quotations; discover the entire story of her near-death experience and the Sixteen Revelations of Divine Love that transformed her life and have the same power to transform our own. Note: Quotations above are from my book: Julian's Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). Near the end of her Revelations of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich writes: I had a partial touching, sight, and feeling of three properties of God, in which the strength and effect of all the revelations stand. And it was seen in every showing, and most properly in the twelfth, where it says oftentimes: “I it am.” The properties are these: life, love, and light. In life is marvelous homelyhed [intimacy], in love is gentle courtesy, and in light is endless being. The “I it am” litany [the Twelfth Revelation] had come to Julian as an internal locution from Christ, expressing who God is in an outpouring of psalmic words. Now she sums it up using just three: “life, love, and light.”
By God’s life, she means his familiarity, intimacy, and enduring closeness to us in the ground of our being, out of which he will never come. By God’s love, she understands his all-embracing and courteous care for our souls. And by God’s light, she sees his everlasting Being that will never change or alter its expression toward us. She recognizes this trinity of properties as the one goodness of God, to which her mind wants to be united and her heart wants to cleave “with all its powers.” Julian marveled at the sweet feeling of unity she gained from realizing that our human reason exists in God. She appreciated, with much greater depth after many years of contemplation, that this reason “is the highest gift that we have received, and it is grounded in nature.” In addition to our reason: Our faith is a light, naturally coming from our endless day that is our father, God; in which light our mother, Christ, and our good lord, the holy ghost, lead us in this mortal life . . . And at the end of woe, suddenly our eye shall be opened, and in clearness of sight our light shall be full, which light is God our maker, father and holy ghost in Christ Jesus our savior. Thus I saw and understood that our faith is our light in our night, which light is God, our endless day. Julian further identifies the source of our light as none other than “charity” or spiritual love, which is measured out as is most profitable to us, according to the wisdom of God. The light of divine love is never allowed to be quite bright enough for us to be able to see our salvation clearly, nor is the heavenly light kept completely hidden from us, but it is enough light in which to live and work productively, thereby earning “the honorable thanks of God.” “Thus charity keeps us in faith and in hope, and faith and hope lead us in charity. And at the end alle shalle be charity.” Julian was also shown three ways of understanding this light of charity: uncreated charity (which is God’s love), created charity (which is the soul within God’s love), and charity given (which is the virtue of love). This gift of love that is bequeathed to us through the working of grace enables us to “love God for himself, and our self in God, and all that God loves, for [the sake of] God.” She marveled greatly at this virtue of love because she realized that even though we live foolishly and blindly here on earth, yet God always beholds our efforts to lead lives of love. And he takes great joy in our good deeds. Julian reiterates that the best way we can please God is by wisely and truly believing that we please him, and “to rejoice with him and in him.” For as truly as we shall be in the bliss of God without end, praising and thanking him, as truly have we been in the foresight of God, loved and known in his endless purpose from without beginning, in which unbegun love he created us. In the same love he keeps us, and never suffers us to be hurt by which our bliss might be lessened. And therefore when the dome [final judgment] is given, and we are all brought up above, then shall we clearly see in God the privities [divine workings] which now are hidden from us. We will not understand how it is that each soul is given plenteous grace to rise again after every fall, or how even the most hardened sinners are converted into saints, until at last we come up to heaven and see in God’s eyes the hidden mystery of the magnificent process of salvation. But we can be sure of one thing: we will see that all has been done by God to perfection. This will be the Great Deed (about which Julian writes at length). And then shall none of us be moved to say in any thing: “Lord, if it had been thus, it would have been well.” But we shall all say with one voice: “Lord, blessed may thou be, because it is thus, it is well. And now we see truly that everything is done as it was thine ordinance to do, before anything was made.” I invite you to listen to my twenty-five LIFE, LOVE, & LIGHT podcasts on the Revelations of Julian of Norwich, available for free on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, iHeartRadio, and Buzzsprout: https://lifelovelight.buzzsprout.com/ Scroll down to listen to the first episode from April 17th, 2020. Note: Quotations above and translations from Julian's Middle English are from my book: Julian's Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). In the Fourteenth Revelation, Julian of Norwich writes:
And all this our lord brought suddenly to my mind, and shewed these words and said: “I am the ground of thy beseeching. First it is my will that thou have it, and next I make thee to will it, and next I make thee to beseech it—and thou beseeches it! How should it then be that thou shouldst not have thy beseeching?” In an astounding moment, the Lord completely inverts the idea that prayer is initiated in any way by Julian with the Revelation that it is entirely his own idea. He identifies himself as the instigator and basis of all prayer. First, in his great goodness, Christ wills to give her some grace, then he makes her conscious of the desire for it . . . Next, he inspires her and gives her the desire to enter into prayer in order to beseech it. And then, she actually does beseech it in her prayer. Finally, Christ asks Julian the all-important rhetorical question: “How could it then be that you would not receive what you were beseeching me for?” (since it was Christ himself who conceived the grace he wanted to give Julian in the first place!). Of course, this Revelation assumes that what Julian will be led to pray for will be to her most immediate benefit, as well as her eternal salvation, and will bring the greatest blessings upon those for whom she prays. Julian became convinced that when we pray it is in response to God’s desire to grant what we most urgently need. Our prayers of beseeching do not cause graces and gifts to come to us from God. It is God’s own goodness, the ground of all that is, that initiates every good thing he ever chooses to give us. He is ready to give before we even ask. Julian experienced “a mighty comfort” in receiving this divine illumination, especially in the first instance when Christ said, “I am the ground of thy beseeching,” and also in the following three). And in the fifth reason (“And thou beseeches it!”), Julian testifies that Christ showed the greatest delight in the eternal reward that he will give us for our beseeching in prayer. . . . As for the sixth reason, in which Christ said, “How should it then be?” (that the soul would not have what it beseeched), Julian realizes that the refusal of the Lord to grant our heartfelt prayer would be “unpossible.” For it is the most unpossible [greatest impossibility] that may be that we should seek mercy and grace and not have it. For every thing that our good lord makes us beseech, he himself has ordained it to us from without beginning. Julian experiences prayer in an entirely new and radically hope-filled way. She is sure that Christ wants all his “lovers on earth” to know how he directs our prayer, because “the more that we know, the more shall we beseech,” if we understand this teaching wisely, as our Lord intends. Note: Quotations above and translations from Julian's Middle English are from my book: Julian's Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). Today, May 8th, is the 651st Feast Day of the Revelations of Divine Love of Julian of Norwich. Let us rejoice that we are privileged to read and meditate on these incomparable Revelations that have reverberated through the ages and brought so much wisdom, guidance, and peace of mind to those who take them to heart.
Near the end of her Long Text, Julian advises those seeking her help that if we flee to our Lord he will comfort us; if we touch him “we shall be made clean,” if we “cleave to him” we shall be seker [safe] from whatever peril could harm us . . . Julian assures us that “our courteous lord wills that we be as homely [intimate] with him as heart may think or soul may desire. . .” She summarizes four things that the Lord, in his graciousness, wants us to know. First, he is our ground, from whom and through whom “we have all our very life and our very being.” Second, he protects us powerfully and with the greatest mercy, even when we are mired in our confusion, beset by all our enemies from within and without, as in the midst of a great battle. (She adds that when we give our enemies an opening to take advantage of us, we are in such dire peril that we do not even realize how great is our need.) The third is how courteously “he keeps [protects] us and makes us know that we go amiss.” He is, after all, our watchful Mother. And the fourth is how faithfully he waits for us and does not alter his expression or attitude toward us, “for he wills that we be turned and oned [united] to him in love as he is to us.” This beautiful depiction of God’s infinite courtesy toward the sinner would strain the bounds of human belief had it not arisen from Julian’s personal experience of Christ on the cross. There she watched him suffering his agony without ever once changing his expression from love to anger. She knows for certain that this is the true countenance of God. And she is sure that if we commit these four realities to our hearts, we will be able to see even our sin as potentially profitable, and not fall into despair. As always, this does not mean we overlook the scourge of sin. We need to acknowledge it, and at the sight of its horror become truly ashamed of ourselves, admit our pride and our presumption, and admit that we are, in truth, “nothing but sin and wretchedness . . .” Also our courteous lord, in that same time, he shewed full sekerly [confidently] and full mightily the endlessness and the unchangeability of his love. And also, by his great goodness and his grace inwardly keeping us, he shewed that the love between him and our souls shall never be separated in two without end. And thus in the dread [of sin], I have matter for humility, that saves me from presumption. And in the blessed shewing of love, I have matter of true comfort and joy, that saves me from despair. Yet again, Julian wants to impress upon the reader that Christ’s love is eternal and can not, will not, change. He continually protects us and remains with us so that his love and our love will never be parted. And in this “blessed shewing of love” (which is in all the Revelations), Julian discovers a source of exquisite consolation and deepest joy that keeps her from ever despairing over her own sinfulness. All this homely shewing of our courteous lord, it is a lovely lesson and a sweet gracious teaching by himself for the comforting of our soul. For he wills that we know, by the sweetness of his homely love, that all that we see or feel, within or without, which is contrarious to this [lesson], that it is of the enemy, and not of God. Julian conceives of Christ still standing all alone, as piteously and mournfully as when he was on earth, in anticipation of our homecoming. He is most impatient to “have us for himself, for we are his joy and his delight, and he is our salvation and our life.” On this auspicious Feast Day, let us thank Julian for her life of faith, prayer, trust, and love, as well her willingness to undergo the great labor of writing down her Revelations for her evencristens and future generations. May Julian bless us all abundantly with peace of mind and heart. Happy Feast Day, Julian! Note: Quotations above and translations from Julian's Middle English are from my book: Julian's Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). In the Sixteenth Revelation, Julian of Norwich writes:
The place that Jesus takes in our soul he shall never leave it without end, as to my sight, for in us is his homeliest home and his endless dwelling. And in this he showed the delight that he has in the making of the human soul. For as well as the father might make a creature, and as well as the son knew how to make a creature, so well would the holy ghost ordain that the human soul be made. And so it was done. And therefore the blessed trinity rejoices without end in the making of the soul, for [God] saw without beginning what should please [God] without end. Julian is convinced that “alle shalle be wele” in the end because all was well in the beginning, when the Trinity fashioned the human soul in the image and likeness of itself. The making of the soul is so perfect, that, through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ it will be brought up into a perfection greater even than its first creation. This perfection will not be human perfection alone . . . it will be the divine perfection of the God/Man, Jesus Christ. This theme has reverberated throughout the Revelations. Julian understands that “our soul may never have rest in any thing that is beneath itself.” And when the soul rises above all creatures in a state of contemplative prayer, it cannot even rest in beholding itself. It must set its concentration on the vastness of God’s presence within the soul. “For in the human soul is [God’s] true dwelling,” and “the highest light and the brightest shining of the city” within that soul is God’s glorious love. And what could make the soul happier than to know that God “delights in us, the highest of all his works”? For I saw in the same shewing that if the blessed trinity might have made man’s soul any better, any fairer, any nobler than it was, [God] should not have been fully pleased with the making of the human soul. But because the trinity made man’s soul as beautiful, as good, as precious a creature as it might make it, therefore the blessed trinity is fully pleased without end in the making of the human soul. And [God] wills that our hearts be mightily raised above the depths of the earth and all vain sorrows, and rejoice in [God]. This was a delectable sight and a restful shewing that is without end. And the beholding of this while we are here, it is very pleasant to God, and a very great benefit to us. And the soul that thus beholds, makes itself like to him that it is beheld, and becomes one with it in rest and in peace by his grace. And this was a singular joy and bliss to me that I saw him sit, for the sekernesse [certainty] of sitting showed endless dwelling. Julian takes great comfort in this final Revelation that God dwells in her soul. And she is certain that God wants us all to take the same comfort through the practice of “beholding.” This type of contemplative prayer (waiting on God, in stillness, without asking for anything) gives God great pleasure and the soul great profit. Such silent prayer forms the soul into a truer image and likeness of the very One who is being contemplated. Julian is especially delighted that she saw the Lord seated in her soul (rather than standing or moving), because sitting symbolizes the familiar rest one takes at home, in complete contentment, peace, and love. God is not going anywhere. It is we who rush about, too busy with our lives and too distracted by our sufferings to take time to experience his inward presence. He thirsts for us to “Be still, and know that I am God!” (Ps 46:10). And if we come to him with our labors and our heavy burdens, he promises to give us true rest (Mt 11:28). Julian rejoices that God’s true dwelling is forever in the soul. And he [Christ] gave me knowing truthfully that it was he who showed me all before. And when I had beheld this with careful consideration then our good lord revealed words very humbly, without voice and without opening of lips, just as he had done before, and said very sweetly: “Know it now well, it was no raving that thou saw today. But take it and believe it, and keep thee therein, and comfort thee therewith, and trust thee thereto, and thou shalt not be overcome.” Julian receives this tender reassurance of the truth of her Revelations with immense gratitude. She declares that these last words Christ spoke in her heart were said to teach her absolute certainty that all the Revelations had come directly from himself, and that she should accept, believe, and hold onto them with her life. She was also instructed to take comfort in them during times of temptation and suffering, and in moments of darkness to trust all that she had seen in the light. In these desperate times of escalating hatred, divisiveness, and war; famine, disease, and persecution, let us go silently into the center of our own souls to behold the Divine Presence who alone can assure us of unconditional love and speak to us, personally, the promise that we shall not be overcome. Then may our souls rejoice, becoming more and more "like to him that is beheld," and dare to live our lives in hope, as sons and daughters of Christ’s resurrection. Please Note: Excerpts above and my translations from the Middle English are from my book: Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books), copyright © by Veronica Mary Rolf. In the Thirteenth Revelation, Julian of Norwich was taught by Christ about sin and suffering: “It is true that sin is the cause of all this pain, but alle shalle be wele, and all manner of thing shalle be wele. These words were shown full tenderly, showing no manner of blame to me, nor to none that shalle be saved. Then it would be a great unkindness of me to blame or wonder at God for my sin, since he blames me not for sin.”
Here Julian introduces a theme that will reverberate throughout her text. While she never denies or mitigates human responsibility for sin, she also never sees Christ on the cross attaching any blame to human beings for their sin. It is a striking concept, a seeming contradiction of the ancient and medieval teachings on the terrible “wrath of God” ready to strike down sinners and send them to hell. Yet at no point does Julian deny God’s sovereign right to judge . . . She simply recounts what she saw and heard in her Revelations; namely, that God shows only tenderness and not blame toward those “that shalle be saved.” Again and again, in one way or another, Julian specifies that those who turn to God humbly and in contrition for sin will surely feel his tender mercy. As for those who refuse to seek God’s mercy, Julian simply did not see them, any more than she saw sin. There is no way of knowing if, by her use of the phrase, “none that shalle be saved,” Julian was suggesting that there will be some who will not respond to salvation, or if eventually “alle shalle be saved.” (It is interesting to note however, Julian’s preference for inclusiveness: she uses the word “alle” more than six hundred times in her Revelations.) Generally, it may be said that Julian wrote of salvation from the all-encompassing divine perspective that she was privileged to see, not the specifically human one. In a rush of insight, Julian realizes she has no right to “blame or wonder at God” for her sins, since God does not blame her. It is an astounding realization. And in these same words, I saw a high, marvelous privity [a glorious secret], hidden in God, which privity he shall openly make known to us in heaven. In which knowing we shall truly see the reason why he suffered sin to come, in which sight we shall endlessly have joy. While Julian receives an intimation of a wondrous secret God will reveal in heaven (which will explain why he permitted sin to come into the world), she is fully aware that she cannot know this privity now, as long as she is still on earth undergoing the purgative effects of sin. But she is heartened that someday, in that knowledge “hidden in God,” we will understand how “alle shalle be wele,” and this will bring everlasting joy. Here Julian alludes, for the first time, to a mystery she will explore more fully in the future. Could it be that humanity’s overwhelming gratitude for Christ’s salvific death on the cross will make us love, praise, and delight in God even more than we would have if we had not sinned? Thus I saw how Christ has compassion on us because of sin. And just as before in the passion of Christ I was filled with pain and compassion, so in this I was in part filled with compassion for all my evencristens [fellow Christians]. For full well does he [Christ] love people that shalle be saved: that is to say, God’s servants. Julian feels that Christ not only does not blame us for sin, he has compassion for us because of the curse of sin and all the sufferings it produces in our lives. And now the sympathy that Julian had felt for Christ’s pain on the cross is transferred, at least in part, to that of her fellow Christians: the recurring outbreaks of plague, the ongoing papal schism, the war with France, the Lollard heresies, the peasants’ revolt and its aftermath. She is consumed by the thought of how much Christ loves and pities his “people that shalle be saved.” On the night before he died, Christ compared himself to a woman in childbirth, dreading that her hour had come, but then rejoicing that her suffering has brought forth new life into the world (Jn 16:21). And Christ told Julian: “If I might suffer more, I would suffer more.” Christ in his wisdom sees our suffering not from a human and limited point of view but from an eternal one. He knows within our pain the glory that will certainly come of it; in the midst of our great mourning and sorrow, he anticipates the wiping away of every tear and the great reward. This is what God in eternity enjoys. As we enter into the Palm Sunday and Holy Week liturgies, let us meditate deeply on the sufferings Christ endured to free us from all blame for our sins. And let us rejoice that Christ was so willing to suffer and die for us – even to the point of wanting to “suffer more,” if he could have done so. We are his beloved daughters and sons. He died on Calvary and was buried in the tomb to strengthen us in our own sufferings and death and times of mourning – and to reveal his glorious resurrection on Easter that is to come for us all. Please Note: Excerpts above and my translations from the Middle English are from my book: Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books), copyright © by Veronica Mary Rolf. In the Second Revelation, Julian of Norwich describes how she saw Christ on the cross:
And after this, I saw with bodily sight in the face of the crucifix that hung before me, in which I beheld continually a part of his passion: contempt, spitting, soiling, and buffeting, and many languring [exhausting] pains, more than I can tell, and often changing of color. And one time I saw how half the face, beginning at the ear, was spread over with dried blood till it beclosed the middle of his face. And after that the other half was beclosed in the same way, and thereafter it vanished in this part, even as it came. Julian is full of gratitude for what she sees, but also feels unbearable longing for what she cannot see. For I saw him and sought him. For we are now so blind and so unwise that we can never seek God till that time that he of his goodness shows himself to us. And when we see anything of him graciously, then we are stirred by the same grace to seek with great desire to see him more blissfully. And thus I saw him and sought him, and I had him and wanted him. And this is and should be our common working in this life, as to my sight. It strikes Julian that, because of human blindness and lack of wisdom, even the initial desire to seek God must come through his goodness already revealing itself to the soul before the soul knows how to ask. This is the work of what has been called “prevenient grace.” And then, when the soul “sees” a little, it may be stirred by grace to see and seek even more. Julian must have known that Christ had said to his followers: “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened” (Mt 7:7–8, Lk 11:9–10). What she had not realized before was that it is God’s own goodness that impels the soul to ask, to search, to knock. Julian understands that this is the way the spiritual path must always proceed: forever seeking and seeing, then not seeing (or losing), and seeking again. She admits that even in her vision when she “saw him,” she continued to seek him. And when she “had him” visibly before her, she “wanted him” even more . . . She feels paralyzed, not by her illness, but by the very nature of the vision itself. She can only look on her Lord and receive as much or as little as he wishes to reveal to her. She is so close to seeing him totally, “to have and to hold,” as in the marriage vow. Yet she knows the vision may disappear momentarily and she will not have seen it well enough to last a lifetime. Will he appear to her again? Will she ever touch him? Julian realizes that she must not cling to her deepest heartfelt desire to experience, to see, to hold onto her Beloved Lord. She must now and always walk in the semi-darkness of faith: For he [God] wills that we believe that we see him continually, though we think that it be but little, and in this belief he makes us evermore to gain grace. For he will be seen, and he will be sought, and he will be abiden [waited for] and he will be trusted. In reliving this extraordinary inner journey years later, Julian feels compelled to tell the reader (as if speaking to us, face to face) that it is God’s will that “we believe we see him continually” in every aspect of our lives: in this blessed event, in this hard labor, in this triumph, in this disappointment, in this falling in love, in this birth, in this betrayal, in this illness or accident, in this tragic occurrence, here and now. Under normal circumstances, we do not do this by having extra-sensory visions, but only by the inner sight of persevering faith. She explains further that even though we may think our faith is “but little” and wavering, fragile and sometimes sorely tested, yet through the constant practice of daring to believe in God’s presence when it is hardest to do so we will gain great grace. Julian is adamant that God wants to be seen (implying an eternal desire to reveal himself), and he wants to be sought (suggesting that he wishes us to find him), and he wants to waited for, longed for, and expected. And, perhaps most of all, he wants to be trusted. Every day Julian had prayed in the Pater Noster: “Thy will be done.” Now she is beginning to understand what that Divine Will really desires. During this holy and grace-filled Season of Lent, may we seek the Lord in every aspect of our lives, taking time daily to be still and be in his presence in silence, becoming attentive to his wishes, his warnings, his loving will. And all the time, may we allow ourselves to be healed, forgiven, and most of all, loved. And may we be fully willing to accompany Christ on his own journey to Calvary. No matter the cost. Please Note: Excerpts above and my translations from the Middle English are from my book: Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books), copyright © by Veronica Mary Rolf. IN THE THIRTEENTH REVELATION, JULIAN OF NORWICH WROTE:
But he wills we take heed thus: that he is the ground of all our whole life in love, he is our everlasting keeper [protector], and mightily defends us against all our enemies that are extremely dangerous and terribly fierce towards us. And our mede [reward] is so much greater if we give him occasion [to love and heal us] by our falling. This theme of Christ as “the ground of our whole life in love” colors and highlights every aspect of Julian’s theology. Christ is not the unapproachable “other,” the distant God-man whose anger must be appeased by every extreme means possible. He is, in a very real sense, what we are, in our flesh and blood and bones, having taken on the fullness of our human nature, save sin, in order to help us combat the suffering of temptation and guilt, and to show his sublime peace and love. He knows exactly how our minds work, what our failings and compulsions are, and longs to teach us how to reorient our attitudes and desires toward the highest good. And he has endured every possible physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual agony we go through. This is the Christ Julian knows to be at the foundation, the very ground, of our being. This is where the “godly will” resides, that never wills sin: in our Christ-redeemed nature. And this is the supreme friendship of our courteous lord, that he keeps us so tenderly while we are in our sinne. And furthermore, he touches us most intimately, and shews us our sinne by the sweet light of mercy and grace. Julian is convinced that even when we are in the midst of harming ourselves or others, and seem to be abandoning God, he does not abandon us. Instead, he whispers in our heart and mind, moves our conscience to feel remorse, and leads us to ask forgiveness, guiding us by his own “sweet light of mercy and grace.” However, Julian is acutely aware that when we sin, “we see ourself so foule,” we think (indeed, we assume) that “God is wroth with us for our sinne.” Here, Julian is describing her own sense of personal guilt, with a keen understanding that Christians persistently harbor a wrong view of God as being wrathful. She explains that though we may remain convinced that God must be angry at us while we are in sin, it is precisely his ever-present mercy and grace which enable us to turn back to him, confess our failure, and ask forgiveness. Christ gathers us up like his prodigal son (or daughter) and encloses us in the royal robe (the restored innocence of our baptism), calls his servants to kill the fatted calf and prepare a banquet (the Eucharist), and invites all the saints to join in the celebration: “because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found” (Lk 15:32). What Julian is describing here is not only the parable of the prodigal son, but also the never-ending story of the exorbitant love of the prodigal Father. And then our courteous lord shews himself to the soul merrily and with the happiest possible expression, with friendly welcoming, as if it had been in pain and in prison, saying thus: “My dear darling, I am glad that thou art come to me. In all thy woe I have ever been with thee, and now see for yourself my love, and let us be oned in bliss.” Thus are sins forgiven by grace and mercy, and our soul honorably received in joy, exactly as it shall be when it comes into heaven, as often as it comes back to God by the gracious working of the holy ghost and the power of Christ’s passion. In contemplating Christ’s mercy and grace in never leaving us alone, even in our sin, Julian understands how “all manner of thing” is already being prepared for us in heaven, “by the great goodness of God.” This is so true that, whenever we feel ourselves “in peace and in charity, we are truly safe.” And we are, by implication, already saved. Julian reports exceptionally intimate terms in this passage, such as “My dear darling" and let us “be oned in bliss,” more often employed between earthly lovers than between the sinful soul and God. She remembers the depth of personal feeling Christ showed her as he conveyed this Revelation about sin. He was not only joyous, friendly, welcoming; he was also deeply loving and all-embracing. His ardent desire for unity is that of a lover for the beloved, not in a sexual sense, but in that of complete spiritual oneing. Just hearing words like these spoken by Christ in one’s heart would be enough to convince the soul of his unconditional love. As we approach this Season of Lent, let us set aside a time for silent meditation every day – to be still and rest in the presence of our merciful Lord. Let us listen deep in our souls to hear him call each one of us by name: “My dear darling, I am glad that thou art come to me.” Whether we are in joy or sorrow, health or sickness, let us express our gratitude to our Divine Lover who is with us in everything we experience, who forgives our faults and misdeeds, and who is always waiting to embrace and heal us. Let us "give him occasion [to love and heal us]," as Julian advised. Let us commit to a daily practice of meditation: sitting in silence and stillness; breathing in and out gently; letting go the tumult of thoughts and needs in our mind; and allowing our hearts to break open in response to Christ’s abounding love for us on the cross. If we are faithful in "dying" to ourselves a little every day, we shall surely rise in joy with him on Easter morning. Blessings to all! Please Note: Excerpts above and my translations from the Middle English are from my book: Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books), copyright © by Veronica Mary Rolf. Over the years, Julian of Norwich received additional illuminations about three characteristics of God, which were shown in all the Revelations: life, love, and light. By life, she understood God’s “marvelous homeliness” or intimacy in the very ground of our being; by love, God’s “gentle courtesy” and unceasing care for souls; and by light, God’s “eternal being,” which never changes in its attitude toward us. She also marveled at the fact that our faculty of reason functions within God and that it “is the highest gift that we have received, and it is grounded in nature.”
She further realized that, in addition to the gift of reason, we have been given the most precious gift of faith: Our faith is a light, naturally coming from our endless day that is our father, God; in which light our mother, Christ, and our good lord, the holy ghost, lead us in this mortal life. . . . And at the end of woe, suddenly our eye shall be opened, and in clearness of sight our light shall be full, which light is God our maker, father and holy ghost in Christ Jesus our savior. Thus I saw and understood that our faith is our light in our night, which light is God, our endless day. For Julian, the deep source of both our faith and our light is none other than divine love, which continuously pours itself out to us in the exact measure that we need, and that we can bear to receive, at any given moment. This pure, spiritual love that flows to us from God, which Julian calls “charity,” keeps us firm in our faith and in hope; and faith and hope lead to ever greater charity. This charity is never a selfish love, which would seek its own good. On the contrary, charity loves God, and loves itself in God, and loves all that God loves, solely for the sake of God. Echoing St. Paul, she concludes: “And at the end alle shalle be charity.” Julian reflected that in spite of our simplicity and our blindness, our courteous Lord constantly beholds us and enjoys doing his will in us, though we know not how. She counsels us once more that the thing that pleases Christ Jesus most is for us to believe that he enjoys working out our salvation and to “rejoice with him and in him.” Julian attests that in the same way that we shall truly be in the bliss of God in heaven, thanking and praising God, likewise, in the foresight of God, have we always been “loved and known in his endless purpose from without beginning, in which eternal love he created us.” In other words, God sees us now as we shall be then. Moreover, when the final judgment is given, we shall discover in God the hidden reason for everything that has happened in our lives, and how truly we have been loved. Finally, we will understand how God has saved us. And then shall none of us be moved to say in any thing: “Lord, if it had been thus, it would have been well.” But we shall all say with one voice: “Lord, blessed may thou be, because it is thus, it is well. And now we see truly that every thing is done as it was thine ordinance to do, before any thing was made.” At this holy season of Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of divinity into humanity, may we each be filled with the spirit of life, love, and light, in these, their most sublime meanings. May we kneel in the straw with the shepherds by the Child’s manger, breathless with awe that God has so loved us as to become one of us. And may we rejoice and give thanks that, through this Child, we are privileged to become sons and daughters of God. Please Note: Translations from the Middle English and excerpts above are from my book, An Explorer’s Guide to Julian of Norwich (IVP Academic Press) © Copyright by Veronica Mary Rolf. |
Archives
June 2024
-amazon.com/author/veronicamaryrolf
All text copyrighted © 2013-2018 by Veronica Mary Rolf. All rights reserved. No copying or reprints allowed without the express permission of the Author.  
|
RSS Feed