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Dear Friends,
I want to share with you the magnificent letter (below) written personally by Pope Francis to the Catholic and Anglican congregations in Norwich -- and to all Julian lovers throughout the world -- on the occasion of the 650th Anniversary of her Revelations of Divine Love. As you will see from the attached below, Pope Francis offers a papal blessing to all who are involved in the celebrations that began on May 8th (her feast day for Anglicans and Lutherans) and continued through May 13th (her feast day for Catholics). Indeed, the festivities are continuing in Norwich and around the world . . . I will be offering a two hour Zoom lecture entitled: "Alle Shalle Be Wele: Living Resurrected Lives" for The Friends of Julian in Norwich on Saturday, June 3rd, from 11am-1pm Pacific Daylight Time. The event is FREE and all are welcome to attend. Please let your friends know about it as well! Here's the Eventbrite link for registration: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/the-julian650-lecture-in-june-tickets-545296054177 In this lecture, I will delve into the deeper meaning of these sacred words, "Alle Shalle Be Wele," and examine the challenge they present in the midst of global conflicts as well as the transformative power they may have within our own personal crises. I will explore Julian’s anguished questions about the nature of sin and the value of suffering; the very questions that provoked these immortal words from the mouth of Christ. We will consider: Were these words revealed as prophecy or a sign of fulfillment? In answer, I will connect these words directly to faith in Christ’s glorious resurrection and the certain hope of our own – offering a theological foundation for "living resurrected lives" even now because “alle shalle be wele” in the ultimate sense. I look forward to seeing you on June 3rd! May Julian bless you abundantly, Veronica jon_papal_blessing_image_copy.jpg May Julian bless you abundantly, Veronica
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Julian of Norwich knew from her own experience that while we are sojourners on this earth, “we have in us a marvelous mixture both of wele [well-being] and of woe.” We hold the resurrected Christ in our hearts, but we are also marked by the “wretchedness and the harm of Adam’s falling.” We are, in a very real way, “double” in our own existence. In our living and dying with Christ, we know we will be everlastingly protected, and by his most gracious inspirations we are encouraged to trust in our salvation. Yet because of Adam’s [human nature's] falling, we are so deeply “broken in our feelings” that our minds and hearts have become darkened and “so blind that we can scarcely take any comfort.” However, in our purest intention, at the core of our being, we still dwell in God, trusting in his mercy and his grace.
And this is his own working in us, and in his goodness he opens the eye of our understanding—by which we have sight, sometimes more and sometimes less, according to which God gives us the ability to receive. And now we are raised into that one [more sight], and now we are allowed to fall into the other [less sight]. Julian is keenly aware of the constant oscillation of our minds, our moods, our views, from the highest joy to the most wretched despair. And because of this medolour, or mixture, she admits we can scarcely know, at any given moment, what state of soul we are in, much less the state of any of our evencristens [fellow Christians]. All we can do is simply assent to God when we feel him, “truly willing to be with him with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our strength.” Acts of love such as these lead us to hate our evil thoughts, our conflicted desires, and anything that could be an occasion of sin, either spiritual or physical. Yet even when we receive spiritual sweetness, it passes, and then “we fall again into blindness and so into woe and tribulation in diverse manners.” But then is this our comfort: that we know in our faith that by the virtue of Christ, who is our keeper [protector], we never assent thereto [to sin]. But we complain against it and endure it in pain and in woe, praying until the time that shows himself again to us. And thus we stand in this medolour all the days of our life. Julian had no illusions that because of her extraordinary visionary experiences, her life was, or could be, any different from the lives of the rest of us. This mixture of “wele and woe” is our common lot as long as we are in this human condition. But Christ wants us to trust that “he is continually with us.” Julian sees this is so in three ways: He is with us in heaven, true man in his own person, drawing us up; and that was shown in the ghostly [spiritual] thirst. And he is with us on earth, leading us; and that was shown in the third revelation, where I saw God in a point. And he is with us in our soul, endlessly wonning [dwelling at home], ruling and governing us; and that was shown in the sixteenth revelation, as I shall say. What Julian tells us she saw “in an instant,” or felt “in a touch,” is that by becoming man, the Son of God took on our human nature unconditionally. When Christ was dying on the cross, he was fighting against evil not just for us but for his own dear life. God looks upon us and sees Christ, his Son, suffering like this. He “saves” Christ from death through resurrection, and in so doing he saves us. Julian attests repeatedly that no matter how marred and mutilated by sin our souls may have become, no matter how blind and afflicted our minds, no matter how weak and disordered our wills, the truest essence of who we are as human beings is, now and forever, Christ’s own human life. In spite of our sin, we are lights of Christ that can never go out. We are flames of love that do not have their source in ourselves, but in God’s eternal fire. No matter how much we fail or how deeply we fall into the ditches of life, we are still and always infinitely precious to God. As our Creator/Father, he stands over us with pity and compassion for our sufferings as well as great joy in their ultimate value. As our Savior/Mother/Christ, he falls into the ditch of life with us and gives rebirth to our fallen human nature as himself. As our Sanctifier/Lover, he raises himself, and us, out of the grave of death, into everlasting life. During this Easter Season, let us rejoice in Christ's triumph over sin, suffering, and death, even if we ourselves still feel mired in a daily reality that is full of these. Let us take heart from Julian's Revelations that Christ is "at work" in us and in others to make "all things well." "He is risen" and is always and everywhere transforming darkness into light and death into eternal bliss. In that lies our hope and the source of our true joy. 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 Ninth Revelation, after Julian of Norwich has seen the face of Christ on the cross transformed from excruciating suffering to exquisite joy, she writes:
Then said our good lord, asking: “Art thou well apaid [satisfied] that I suffered for thee?” I said: “Ya good lord, gramercy. Ya, good lord, blessed may thou be.” Then said Jesus, our good lord: “If thou art satisfied, I am satisfied. It is a joy, a bliss, an endless liking to me that ever I suffered my passion for thee. And if I might suffer more, I would suffer more.” From Augustine of Hippo in the fourth century to Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh (as well as during the scholastic debates of the medieval period), theologians taught that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross was the settlement of a “debt” owed to God the Father for the grave disobedience of original sin. Because no mere human being could pay such a debt, it was necessary for the Son of God to become man, suffer, and die in order to atone for the sin of Adam. At the same time, the Savior had to “buy back” humanity from the clutches of Satan with the price of his own blood. By dying on the cross, Christ “paid the debt” of original sin, made complete satisfaction to divine justice, restored humanity to the image and likeness of God, and overcame the power of evil. Given this deeply-embedded theological context, it is all the more astounding that here, Julian hears Christ ask her, pointedly: “Art thou well apaid?” He is implying that by dying on the cross, in fact he intended to make restitution to sinners for the terrible suffering caused by their own sins! It is obvious from the way Julian stammers repeatedly to say, “Ya, good Lord, gramercy,” that she herself was astounded by Christ’s question. She simply cannot fathom the Lord’s eager concern to know if he has done enough to show her his love. (And he asks this not only of Julian, but of every one of us.) Even more, Julian hears Christ tell her that if she is satisfied, then he is satisfied—as if he was waiting for her full approval. He even adds that if he could have suffered more, he would have suffered more. From this startling locution, Julian is given profound insight into “the mind of Christ” that she had long desired. In an interior voice, Jesus tells her why he endured his passion and death: to prove his love and compassion for the suffering of human beings. Yes, sin is a grave offense against the law and the love of God. Yes, it must be atoned for by suffering. But God does not cause that suffering; we bring it on ourselves. According to the natural consequences of actions that are contrary to the divine law of love, every sin against the goodness and justice of God produces a comparable form of suffering. If we lie, we will be lied to. If we cheat, we will be cheated. If we hurt another, we will be hurt ourselves. If we betray, we will be betrayed. If we erupt in anger and violence, we will experience anger and violence. If we “take the sword [we] will perish by the sword” (Mt 26:52). That’s the way the moral universe works. Far from demanding our suffering, the Father sent his only Son to suffer and die out of compassion for what we have to suffer. The implications of this revelation are mind-boggling: by taking on our flesh and blood, Christ took on our sin and our suffering. He learned what human beings have to endure because of sin. Because “he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8), now every physical pain, every emotional upheaval, every spiritual conflict acquires redemptive meaning. Everything may be suffered in union with Christ for our own salvation and that of the whole world. Now we may be confident that everything will be transformed by Christ’s own suffering into his eternal glory. And for this little pain that we suffer here, we shall have a high, endless knowing in God, which we might never have without that pain. And the harder our pains have been with him on his cross, the more shall our honor be with him in his kingdom. Are we able to hear Jesus ask us if we are “well apaid”—that is, completely satisfied—by his joyful sacrifice for us? Do we believe that Christ is so deeply compassionate toward our own personal sufferings? Can we accept, as Julian learned to do, that “it is God’s will that we have true delight with him in our salvation, and that we be mightily comforted and strengthened therein?” As we approach Holy Week, may we walk with Christ to his cross and thank him “mightily” for all he has suffered out of love for us. And may we offer to bear our own crosses out of love for him. Then we shall surely taste his exultant joy on Easter morning. For we are his bliss, for in us he delights without end, and so shall we in him with his grace. All that he has done for us, and does, and ever shall, was never cost nor charge to him nor might be, but only that he did it in our humanity, beginning at the sweet incarnation, and lasting to the blessed resurrection on Easter morrow. 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. Dear Friends,
As we begin our Lenten journey tomorrow, I want to share with you a profound insight that was given to Julian of Norwich during her vision of Christ on the cross. After experiencing the agony of Christ’s sufferings and then seeing the sudden transformation of his face into a blissful expression, Julian heard the Lord ask her: Art thou well apaid that I suffered for thee?” I said: “Ya good lord, gramercy. Ya, good lord, blessed may thou be.” Then said Jesus, our good lord: “If thou art satisfied, I am satisfied. It is a joy, a bliss, an endless liking to me that ever I suffered my passion for thee. And if I might suffer more, I would suffer more.” What an astounding Ninth Revelation this is -- that in spite of the excruciating pain, Christ enjoyed his passion in the depths of his heart, knowing it would be to our greatest advantage. From Augustine of Hippo in the fourth century to Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh (as well as during the scholastic debates of the medieval period), theologians had taught that Christ’s sacrifice on the cross was the settlement of a “debt” owed to God the Father for the grave disobedience of original sin. Because no mere human being could pay such a debt, it was necessary for the Son of God to become man, suffer, and die in order to atone for the sin of Adam. At the same time, the Savior had to “buy back” humanity from the clutches of Satan with the price of his own blood. By dying on the cross, Christ “paid the debt” of original sin, made complete satisfaction to divine justice, restored humanity to the image and likeness of God, and overcame the power of evil. Given this deeply-embedded theological context, it is all the more astounding that here, Julian hears Christ ask her, pointedly: “Art thou well apaid?” He is implying that by dying on the cross, in fact he intended to make restitution to sinners for the terrible suffering caused by their own sins! It is obvious from the way Julian stammers repeatedly to say, “Ya, good Lord, gramercy,” that she herself was astounded by Christ’s question. She simply cannot fathom the Lord’s eager concern to know if he has done enough to show her his love. (And he asks this not only of Julian, but of every one of us.) Even more, Julian hears Christ tell her that if she is satisfied, then he is satisfied—as if he was waiting for her full approval. He even adds that if he could have suffered more, he would have suffered more. From this startling locution, Julian is given profound insight into “the mind of Christ” that she had desired. In an interior voice, Jesus tells her why he endured his passion and death: to prove his love and compassion for the suffering of human beings. Yes, sin is a grave offense against the law and the love of God. Yes, it must be atoned for by suffering. But God does not cause that suffering; we bring it on ourselves. According to the natural consequences of actions that are contrary to the divine law of love, every sin against the goodness and justice of God produces a comparable form of suffering. If we lie, we will be lied to. If we cheat, we will be cheated. If we hurt another, we will be hurt ourselves. If we betray, we will be betrayed. If we erupt in anger and violence, we will experience anger and violence. If we “take the sword [we] will perish by the sword” (Mt 26:52). That’s the way the moral universe works. Far from demanding our suffering, the Father sent his only Son to suffer and die out of compassion for what we have to suffer. The implications of this revelation are mind-boggling: by taking on our flesh and blood, Christ took on our sin and our suffering. He learned what human beings have to endure because of sin. Because “he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8), now every physical pain, every emotional upheaval, every spiritual conflict acquires redemptive meaning. Everything may be suffered in union with Christ for our own salvation and that of the whole world. Now we may be confident that everything will be transformed by Christ’s own suffering into his eternal glory. And for this little pain that we suffer here, we shall have a high, endless knowing in God, which we might never have without that pain. And the harder our pains have been with him on his cross, the more shall our honor be with him in his kingdom. Are we able to hear Jesus ask us if we are “well apaid”—that is, completely satisfied—by his joyful sacrifice for us? Do we believe that Christ is so deeply compassionate toward our own personal sufferings? Can we accept, as Julian learned to do, that “it is God’s will that we have true delight with him in our salvation, and that we be mightily comforted and strengthened therein”? Let us consider this Ninth Revelation on Ash Wednesday and throughout the season of Lent. And may we take time every day to thank the Lord that yes, we are “well apaid” that he suffered his passion for each one of us. For we are his bliss, for in us he delights without end, and so shall we in him with his grace. All that he has done for us, and does, and ever shall, was never cost nor charge to him nor might be, but only that he did it in our humanity, beginning at the sweet incarnation, and lasting to the blessed resurrection on Easter morrow. Blessings and Peace, Veronica PLEASE NOTE: Translations from the Middle English and excerpts above are from my book, An Explorer’s Guide to Julian of Norwich (IVPAcademic Press) © Copyright by Veronica Mary Rolf. Academic Press) © Copyright by Veronica Mary Rolf. In the Seventh Revelation, Christ grants Julian of Norwich “a supreme, ghostly delight” in her soul. She feels full of eternal “sekernesse [security], mightily fastened without any painful dread.” This euphoria is “so glad and so spiritual” that she is in complete peace, ease, and rest, so much so that there was “nothing on earth that could have grieved me.” She is experiencing a contemplative state of stillness and joy, the prayer of exquisite quiet in the presence of God. This sense of presence, while utterly spiritual, is more convincing than any physical sight. But it is ephemeral.
This lasted but a while, and I was turned and left to myself in such heaviness and weariness of my life and irkenes [irritation] with myself, that I could barely have patience to live. There was no comfort nor any ease to my feeling, but faith, hope and charity, and these I had in truth, but very little in feeling. A sharp and sudden shift occurs. Julian feels as if she has been dropped out of heaven. Left alone on earth, she is full of sadness, weariness, and irkenes, that is, acute annoyance with herself. She scarcely has the patience to go on living. What a drastic change! Yet this shock and dismay at feeling suddenly abandoned by God is a familiar one in the mystical life. It is a classic example of the return of the visionary from the heights of contemplation down to the harsh fact of her still-separateness from divinity and a very human dissatisfaction with herself. . . . All that Julian could hold onto was her faith, hope, and love, and this she did “in truth,” but without any sense of consolation. And soon after this, our blessed lord gave me again the comfort and the rest in soul: delight and sekernesse so blissful and so mighty that no dread, nor sorrow, nor any bodily nor ghostly pain that might be suffered could have unsettled me. And then the pain shewed again to my feeling, and then the joy and the delight, and now that one, and now the other, diverse times, I suppose about twenty times. And in the time of joy, I might have said with Saint Paul: “Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ.” And in the pain, I might have said with Saint Peter: “Lord, save me, I perish.” This excruciating oscillation between the utmost bliss and extreme turmoil recurs some “twenty times.” One minute she feels totally at peace in the presence of God, the next she is like a little boat being tossed about on the high seas. She is reminded of sacred scripture, but her references are inaccurate. She conflates two gospel passages: Matthew 8:25 (“Lord, save us! We are perishing!”), spoken not by Peter alone, but by all the disciples to the sleeping Jesus in the boat during a storm; and Matthew 14:30 (“Lord, save me!”), cried by Peter on another occasion when he began to sink after walking toward Christ on the water. This confusion strongly suggests that Julian did not own or have access to a copy of the new Wyclif English translation of the gospels. But she did know the essential meaning of these passages, having heard them quoted in English sermons, and also from a lifetime of meditation. Thus it was natural for her to identify the dramatic swings of feeling with the extremes of ecstasy described by St. Paul in his letter to the Romans (Rom 8:38–39) and the agony voiced by St. Peter and the other disciples. Julian is convinced that she had to undergo these spiritual extremes in order to learn that it is profitable for souls to be unmoored in this way: . . . sometimes to be in comfort, and sometimes to fail and to be left to themselves. God wills that we know that he keeps [protects] us ever in the same seker [security], in woe and in wele [well-being]. And for the profit of man’s soul a man is sometimes left to himself, although sinne is not always the cause. For in this time, I sinned not for which I should be left to myself, for it was so sudden. Also, I deserved not to have this blissful feeling, but freely our lord gives it when he wills, and suffers us to be in woe sometimes, and both are one love. The analytic understanding of this Revelation must have come a long time after the experience itself. Reflecting on “What does this mean?” . . . Julian is led to appreciate that both well-being and woe, common aspects of human existence, must be borne with patience. But the Revelation is clear that woe is not always the result of sinful behavior (Julian was convinced she had not sinned “in this time”), nor is the wele, that is, the graced sense of God’s presence, ever deserved. It is gift, pure and simple. The one reality we can be sure of is that both states of mind are “one love.” By seeming to come close and then removing himself, God teaches us not to crave blissful feelings over blind faith. God wants us to believe in his presence, whether we feel it or not: “For it is God’s will that we hold ourselves in comfort with all our might.” Julian is fully aware that bliss will be everlasting and that earthly pain is merely passing and “shall be brought to nought for them that shalle be saved.” But while we are trapped in this earthly mode of swinging between the two extremes, she is adamant that it is not God’s will that we pay undue attention to the feelings of pain and allow ourselves to sorrow and mourn over them, “but quickly pass over them and hold ourselves in the endless delight that is God.” Unlike the common medieval spiritual directive that the faithful should see their pains and sense of abandonment as direct punishments from God, or as signs of God’s disfavor which they should bear with a heavy heart, Julian’s conviction is that God wants his people to cling in faith to the fact of his love, even and especially in the midst of great suffering. We can learn so much from Julian’s experience in prayer. In these troubling times, how often we ourselves feel pulled apart in prayer, from peace to anxiety, from hope to an overwhelming sense of fear or sadness. Julian assures us that this is the common lot of all who pray. We must not neglect our times of verbal prayer and silent meditation because we are afraid of these mood swings! On the contrary, it is only by resting in silence and stillness and focusing on the life-giving reality of our breath and by not grasping to the display of thoughts, emotions, and images that appear before our inner eye, that we truly learn to rest in God, in simple awareness. We become more deeply aware that we are, by the grace of God, aware! And that this blessed awareness is grounded in Divine Awareness. How could it be otherwise? By our faith, we silently affirm over and over again that the Holy Spirit is truly present within, no matter how we may feel -- whether in wele or in woe -- “for both are one love.” And that is all we need to know. NOTE: Excerpts above and translations from the Middle English are from my book, Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). At the end of her Revelations, Julian of Norwich writes:
And from the time that it [the Revelation] was shown, I desired oftentimes to know what was our lord’s meaning. And fifteen years after and more, I was answered in ghostly understanding, saying thus: “What, wouldest thou know thy lord’s meaning in this thing [the whole Revelation]?Know it well, love was his meaning. Who shewed it to thee? Love. What shewed he to thee? Love. Wherefore shewed he it to thee? For love. Hold thee therein, thou shalt know more of the same. But thou shalt never know therein other without end.” Thus was I taught that love is our lord’s meaning In this one word, Julian learned what she most needed to know: love is the beginning and the end of all true Revelation. God is love and all that God does is because of love, to show his love, and to increase our ability to respond in love. If we hold and cherish Julian’s Revelations, pondering them in our hearts, we shall discover more and more of the ways in which Divine Love expresses itself to us. We shall discover that there is nothing else that is “real” but love, and that for all eternity. We shall begin to glimpse, as Julian did, that everything lasts, and ever shall, from a hazelnut to a universe, “because God loveth it. And so hath all things being by the love of God.” The very fact that anything exists at all is simply because Love loves. And I saw full sekerly [securely] in this and in all [the Revelations], that before God made us he loved us, which love was never satiated, nor ever shall be. And in this love he has done all his works, and in this love he has made all things profitable to us. And in this love our life is everlasting. In our creation, we had a beginning, but the love wherein he made us was in him from without beginning, in which love we have our beginning. And all this shall we see in God without end. Deo Gracias [Thanks be to God]. With these last words, Julian sums up all that the Lord has shown her, all that she has heard and understood, all that she has tried to set down in her gospel account. She has spared herself nothing to share with us the depths of her spiritual pilgrimage on this earth. She has revealed her showings and, in so doing, revealed herself. She has disclosed her own doubt and depression, impatience and sloth, and also affirmed her overarching confidence that the Lord lifts her up out of the ditch after every fall, as he does for each one who turns to him. She has shown us how we should walk: in faith, in seker trust, in hope, and most of all in joyful love, no matter what obstacles and pains we may suffer, even serious sins we may commit. For the soul in love, fear and despair have no place. Indeed, they are temptations away from the truth. Julian’s Revelations are, finally, a gospel of love. They testify that we are created out of love, by love, and for love. Love is the ground and the meaning of our creation, our redemption, our ultimate enclosure in God’s glory. And just as we have been loved since “without beginning,” so Julian bears witness that the Revelations were shown to her for the sake of love, that all might be brought to everlasting fruition. Christ our Mother will never leave us, never stop waiting and working in us until he has brought us up to be with him. He sits within our substance and our sensuality as in his own home. He has become what we are in his incarnation. He cannot shed his humanity; it has become his glory. He is one of us . . . forever. And he has no greater thirst than to transform us into his own Mystical Body, intimately enclosed in Trinity Indeed, Julian has borne witness that the Heart of Christ thirsts for every soul as if it were the only soul ever created. She assures us that, as we contemplate this marvelous wonder of God’s everlasting and intimate love, dwelling and working within our souls, we shall become transformed human beings. We shall experience our lives as a whole new creation, by the power of the Holy Spirit. When this salvific work is finally completed, within us and within every soul, then indeed: “Alle shalle be wele, and thou shalt see it thyself that alle manner of thing shalle be wele.” This is Christ’s promise. And Julian’s. This holy Christmas, especially in this time of great suffering, devastating war, famine, and fear, may you be encouraged by Julian’s transcendent faith and unceasing hope, confident that you are truly made of love, saved by love, and destined for divine love. And for those of you who are new to our Julian of Norwich FB page, may I recommend my twenty-five Life, Love, & Light podcasts on the Revelations of Julian of Norwich, which are freely available on most major directories including Apple, Google, Pandora, and Buzzsprout: https://lifelovelight.buzzsprout.com/ Just scroll down the page to April 2020, “Sheltering in Place,” at the beginning of the pandemic. This is my heartfelt Christmas gift to all of you. And may Julian bless you abundantly! Please Note: Excerpts above and translations from the Middle English are from my award-winning book, Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books) In the Fourteenth Revelation, Julian of Norwich teaches us what the Lord told her about prayer:
“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 (or us!) 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. Prayer of Thanksgiving In addition to petitionary prayer, Julian stresses the prayer of thanksgiving. This is “a true, inward knowing,” whereby we dedicate all our energies to the good work that the Lord directs us to do, “rejoicing and thanking inwardly.” Julian reveals that sometimes this prayer of thanksgiving is so overwhelming that it breaks out in full voice saying: “Good lord, grant mercy, blessed may thou be!” And at other times, when the heart feels dry and empty, or else is undergoing temptations, then prayer “is driven by reason and by grace to cry aloud to our Lord, remembering his blessed passion and his great goodness.” Either way, the strength of the Lord’s own word will enter into the soul, enliven the heart, begin a new spiritual work by means of grace, and enable the soul to pray more blissfully and to rejoice in him. “This is a very lovely thanking in his sight.” Three Aspects of Prayer Julian summarizes three aspects that should determine our understanding of prayer. The first, as already mentioned, is to know from whom and how our prayer originates. Christ made clear that he is the instigator of prayer when he said, “I am the ground.” And he revealed how prayer develops because of his goodness when he said, “First, it is my will that thou have it.” The second aspect concerns the manner in which we say our prayers. Our will should always be turned entirely toward the will of the Lord, not in fear but in great enjoyment. Christ clarified this for Julian when he said: “I make thee to will it.” And the third aspect focuses on the fruit and goal of our prayer, which is “to be oned with and like our lord in everything.” “And to this meaning and for this end was all this lovely lesson shown. And he will help us, and he shall make it so, as he says himself. Blessed might he be!” Additionally, Julian suggests that both our prayer and our trust should be equally “large,” which in Middle English implies generous and ample, even ambitious. “For if we do not trust as much as we pray, we do not give the fullest worship to our lord in our prayer, and also we hinder and trouble ourselves.” Julian considers that the reason we become hesitant and lacking in trust is that we think the impetus to pray is coming from ourselves instead of from Christ. If we were absolutely certain that Christ is the “ground in whom our prayer springs” and that prayer is itself “given to us by grace of his love,” then we would naturally trust that we would have “all that we desire.” This Thanksgiving Day (and every day) let us have confidence that the deepest desires of our heart really do arise from “the ground” of our being. And that it is Christ himself prompting us to pray for them, preparing us to receive them, and encouraging us to trust “mightily” that he desires to fill our hearts to overflowing. And let us “give thanks-in-advance” for all that the Lord is accomplishing in and through us, though we know not how. Many Blessings and a very Happy Thanksgiving to all! NOTE: Excerpts above and translations from the Middle English are from my book, Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). In the Thirteenth Revelation, Julian of Norwich wrote: There is a deed which the blissful trinity shall do in the last day, as to my sight. And what the deed shall be and how it shall be done, is unknown by all creatures who are beneath Christ, and shall be till it shall be done. The goodness and the love of our lord God wills that we know that it shall be. And his might and his wisdom, by the same love, will conceal and hide it from us, what it shall be and how it shall be done. And the reason why he wills we know it thus is because he wills we be the more eased in our soul and at peace in love, leaving the beholding of all tempestes [agitations and tumults] that might prevent us from truly rejoicing in him. This is the great deed ordained by our lord God from without beginning, treasured and hidden in his blessed breast, known only to himself, by which deed he shall make alle thing wele. For as truly as the blessed trinity made alle thing of nought, right so the same blessed trinity shalle make wele alle that is not wele.
The monumental Revelation that Julian received concerning the Great Deed does not explicitly answer her questions about why evil was allowed to come into the world, nor how sin is behovely [necessary], nor how evil will finally be overcome. This crucial section does not even appear in the Short Text. Yet it became paramount in Julian’s soteriology (her understanding of how God saves) over the course of several decades of contemplation on the Thirteenth Revelation. . . . Julian specifies that the Great Deed “is unknown by all creatures who are beneath Christ.” The Blessed Virgin does not know, nor do the angels and saints know, what the Great Deed will be and how it will be done. Yet Julian is sure that Christ wants everyone to know that there will be such a deed that will finally make all things well. In his trinitarian might, wisdom, and love, Christ does not wish us to speculate about what it is and how it will be accomplished because he does not want us consumed by torturous imaginings “that might prevent us from truly rejoicing in him.” Simply receiving the Revelation that there will be a Great Deed should give sufficient comfort to our souls and enable us to be at peace and live in love. The Great Deed has been ordained “from without beginning,” and while we know by faith that Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection make all things well ultimately, it seems Julian is implying another divine action here. It has been suggested that she might be anticipating a decree of universal salvation and the emptying out of hell. But Julian in no way hints at or dares to imply this possibility, much as we might like to read such an interpretation into her text. On the contrary, she does not speculate at all and perhaps neither should we. Suffice it to say that Julian compares the Great Deed with the act of creation itself: as the Trinity creates all things from nothing, so the Trinity “shalle make wele alle that is not wele.” Two Realities The key to Julian’s ongoing explanation is that the Lord is showing her two separate realities. The one, human reality, we experience mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually every day, with both its joys and its sufferings, its blessings and its curses. This reality is constantly in flux, ever-changing from moment to moment for good or for ill. Therefore, it is always fraught with uncertainty, hidden dangers, the pain of dissolution. Nothing lasts. In this reality, we think and feel and make countless choices, some right, some wrong. We try to create safe havens of light and peace and love, but at the same time we are tossed about by conflicts, within and without, over which we have no control. This is what we call our “life.” But it is only one way of existing. This earthly life is not the whole of reality. And it is continually darkened by our deep ignorance about the other Divine Reality. Divine Reality is God’s own life in trinitarian bliss. When we are wrenched away from what we call our “life” and resurrected as members of Christ’s Mystical Body, our minds will become illuminated through and through with God’s life. Then we will be able to see and experience the ever-new creation as it pours forth from the Word of God in perfect wisdom and love. Then it will be made clear what we cannot possibly fathom now: how the resurrection (Christ’s, and ours-to-come in Christ) has changed everything. Then we will truly have “the mind of Christ” (1 Cor 2:16, cf. Phil 2:5) to be able to witness the Great Deed, whatever it will be, and to see that “alle manner of thing shalle be wele.” Once our minds and hearts are completely transformed and incorporated into Christ’s own mind and heart, we will be able to rest in contemplation of the central mystery of the Trinity. This alone is eternal happiness. Yet even now our efforts to persevere in hope – especially in times of tragic wars and daily crises when the world situation looks so bleak and hopeless – can enlighten our minds and reassure our hearts. Faith can enable us to believe that this, even this, illness or tragedy can and will be transformed by Christ. Even now Divine Reality is constantly impinging on human reality through the outpouring of grace, like shafts of sunlight reaching deep into the thick, dark forest of our minds. During her Revelations and in the decades-to-come of contemplation, Julian glimpsed this Divine Reality and gained profound insights concerning its nature. But she could not rest in the promise Christ gave her concerning this Reality until she had first allowed him to calm the raging tempestes of doubts and terrors that plagued her very human soul. In her great distress about the work of salvation, she heard the Lord comfort her with these tender words: “Leave me alone, my dearworthy child, attend to me, I am enough for thee. And rejoice in thy savior and in thy salvation.” May we who long for a Great Deed to end the suffering of the world find rest and peace in the Lord’s words. And may we begin to fathom that the Great Deed is being prepared, even now, in and through the work, and love, and surrender of our own lives. NOTE: Excerpts above and translations from the Middle English are from my book, Julian’s Gospel: Illuminating the Life & Revelations of Julian of Norwich (Orbis Books). In the Fifth Revelation, Julian of Norwich tells us how fiercely we must cling to the fact of our salvation:
But in God may be no wrath, as to my sight. For our good lord—endlessly having regard to his own worship and to the profit of all them that shall be saved—with might and right he withstands the demons who out of malice and wickedness busy themselves to counteract and go against God’s will (emphasis added). Julian’s conviction that there is “no wrath” in God is a powerful theme that she will develop throughout her text. For Julian, this revelation was a colossal breakthrough. She had grown up hearing preachers threaten that the wrath of God would send a person to hell for a curse. The Old English word wrath connotes intense anger and moral indignation. Wrath was also a biblical metaphor used to express divine hatred of sin. In theological terms, wrathfulness was considered an attribute of God and an expression of divine justice. However, in recording her visionary experiences, Julian will insist that she never saw the Savior “wrathful.” Jesus Christ, the Son of God, did not stretch out his arms to be crucified, suffer excruciating pain, shed his blood, and die an ignoble death because he was angry. On the contrary, the Son of God hung on the cross in obedience to his Father’s will in order to effect the ultimate salvation of the whole world. Christ did not die to punish us, but to save us from ourselves and the powers of evil. Everything he ever did, he did out of love. If we want to know what divine “wrath” looks like, we have only to contemplate the figure of Christ hanging on the cross, as Julian did. It is the true image of God giving everything to save humanity from itself. Far from accusing us, Julian sees that our good Lord withstands “with might and right” all the demons that could possibly harm or destroy us. He fights for us against our frailty, our temptations, our bad habits. Even in our sinfulness, he does not condemn us any more than he condemned the woman taken in adultery (Jn 8:1-11) or Peter after his betrayal (Jn 21:15-17). Instead of wrathfulness, the Lord repeatedly offers mercy. He counsels us gently but firmly: “Go your way, and from now on do not sin again” (Jn 8:11). He urges more daring faith, greater hope, and the loving service of our lives. Julian knew well that “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8). In her theology, she will carry that truth to its fullest implication: God cannot stop loving us because that’s who God is. Unlike the anthropomorphic image of a highly volatile God—loving us when we are obedient, then becoming “wroth” and punishing us when we disobey, then relenting and taking pity on us—Julian’s understanding of divine love is that it is eternally constant; it does not change. It is we humans who are changeable. We accept or reject or simply ignore God’s love. But God never ceases loving and protecting us, even in our misdeeds. The way we view God is really up to us. If we are open and receptive to divine love and willing to share that love with each other, then we will surely recognize God as the wellspring and fulfillment of every love. If, on the other hand, we fail to love God and each other, if we are unjust, unkind, unforgiving, and unfaithful, eventually we become guilt-ridden. Then what do we do? We get angry with ourselves and project that anger onto God: “God must be angry with me. God is a wrathful God.” What a terrible injustice to God! It may take a long time for us to outgrow our age-old projections of God as changeable, vindictive, and wrathful. Those of us who were terrified as children by the threat of God’s punishment may still be struggling to do so. Julian’s Revelations will help us. In fact, she sees that Christ scorns Satan’s evil designs on us, utterly deriding their (lack of) power. Christ wants us to do the same. This realization was so liberating for Julian, it made her laugh out loud. Also I saw our lord scorn his [Satan’s] malice and nought his unmight, and he wills that we do so. For this sight, I laughed mightily, and that made them laugh who were about me, and their laughing was a pleasure to me. It may be difficult to think of laughing at the overwhelming “malice and might” of evil that we see devastating our world right now. But still, with Julian, we may cling to hope that the Lord is always “at work,” especially in times of war and extreme suffering, persecution, imprisonment, fear, and loneliness. He took it all on himself on the cross and he will transform it all into his glorious resurrection. And ours. 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. Available from the Publisher and Amazon worldwide. Near the end of her Revelations, in a confessional moment, Julian of Norwich admits that before her visions began, she had often had a great longing to be delivered from this life of suffering and woe. “And this made me mourn and earnestly long, and also because of my own wretchedness, sloth and weariness, I did not like to live and to travail as it was my duty to do.” In other words, Julian frequently felt weary of life and worn out by her daily struggles. She may also have suffered from bouts of melancholy and even depression that made her unwilling to work and pray as she knew she ought to do. But the Lord answered her:
Suddenly thou shalt be taken from all thy pain, from all thy disease, from all thy distress, and from all thy woe. And thou shalt come up above, and thou shalt have me for thy reward, and thou shalt be filled with joy and bliss. And thou shalt never more have any manner of pain, nor any manner of sickness, nor any manner of displeasure, nor wanting of will, but ever joy and bliss without end. Why should it then aggrieve thee to suffer [be patient] awhile, since it is my will and for my honor? By Christ’s answer, Julian was not only comforted; she was taught the inestimable value of the virtue of patience in waiting for God to release us from our present suffering. She realizes that if we knew the moment of our death, we would not need to exercise any patience. But since we do not know “the day nor the hour” (Mt 25:13), it is greatly profitable to the soul to live as if it were “ever at the point of being taken. For all this life and suffering that we have here is but a point, and when we are taken suddenly out of pain into bliss, then pain shall be nought [nothing].” Julian strongly encourages us to “overpass” our present sufferings and emotional upheavals, and contemplate instead the eternal joys that are being prepared for us in heaven. She is certain that: It is God’s will that we understand his behestes [urgent promptings] and his comforting as comprehensively and as mightily as we may take them. And also he wills that we take our abidings [delays and frustrations] and our distresses as lightly as we may take them, and set them at nought. For the more lightly that we take them, and the less price that we set on them for love, the less pain shall we have in the feeling of them, and the more thanks and reward shall we have for them. . . . And thus I understood that any man or woman who willingly chooses God in this lifetime for love, he may be seker [secure] that he is loved without end, with endless love that works in him that grace [of choosing God]. For God wills we recollect this trustfully, that we are as seker in hope of the bliss of heaven while we are here as we shall be in sekernesse when we are there. And ever the more pleasure and joy that we take in this sekernesse, with reverence and humility, the more it delights him. Julian perceived that Christ wanted her to be bound to him in love “as if he had done everything that he has done solely for me. And thus should every soul think in relation to his lover.” Indeed, she insists that all the Revelations were shown to make us all love our Lord and take the greatest delight in him, and fear nothing but displeasing him. If we do, no temptation or evil or suffering can possibly overwhelm us. “For it is his will that we know that all the might of our enemy is locked in our friend’s hand.” 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. Available from the Publisher and Amazon worldwide: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0830850880? |
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