Sin and Suffering

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.
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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.