Julian of Norwich is “Nothing if Not Persistent”
- by Shelley Gilchrist.
I have never heard the voices of those who have passed through the thin space. While I imagine my dear ones, and I remember their counsel, I do not hear them. But then I encountered the mystic and theologian, Julian of Norwich. I confess to bandying about her phrase, “All shall be well,” innumerable times during the height of the pandemic. Phrases like “Where is my mask? Do I need a booster? My family is coming; should I get a Covid test? Am I breathing normally, and what about voting rights?” were repeatedly followed by my mantra, “Every manner of things shall be well.” But then Dame Julian herself started bothering me. She whispered, “Really? My revelations and writings took 50 years to refine and 300 years to publish and you have distilled them to a single phrase or two?” To which I would reply, “But I always gave you credit!” She sighed loudly, implying I was a lazy student, and told me to “dig and ditch.” Her words. She insisted I mine her teachings beyond the obvious. And I listened. We have few biographical details of this intriguing mystic, because to her they were not important. She arbitrarily recorded her age as 30 on May 8, 1373, the first night of her “showings,” and died sometime after 1416. She was only six when the Black Plague ravaged the city of Norwich and 38 years old during the bloody Peasants’ Revolution. Julian never commented on these horrific events. We know she is the first woman to have written substantially in the English language, as a contemporary of Chaucer’s, and probably owed her literacy to the Benedictine nuns. Her use of maternal metaphor speaks not only to her closeness with her mother, but to her having been a mother as well. It is not a reach to assume she lost her family during the plague, as one in three persons did succumb. And her given name may or may not even be Julian. She was, after all, an anchoress at St. Julian’s Church in Norwich.
Whether it was because death surrounded her or to know the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings (Phil.3:10), Julian had long prayed for a near-death experience. Her prayer was answered on that late night in May 1373. The parish priest arrived as she was experiencing increasing paralysis. He held the crucifix inches away from her and all but the face of Jesus faded into darkness. Julian recorded seeing the crown of thorns drip blood, but His face showed no agony. Instead of woe, Julian was given the first of 16 “Revelations of Divine Love.” She proclaimed “Divine Love is boundless and will continue forever” and felt an unshakeable security. Julian recovered quickly and recorded her showings immediately. These first writings are known as the “short text.” What followed were decades of prayer and reflection, resulting in the “long text” or Revelations of Divine Love. Julian’s message of God’s goodness and unconditional love was in total contradiction to the medieval church’s teaching of God’s wrath and damnation. With no scientific data available, the Church saw the plague as punishment for a fallen and wretched human race. All of nature and humankind were sinfully corrupt, and only in redemptive theology was salvation to be found. Is it little wonder that hundreds wandered from city to village whipping themselves mercilessly? But the curse continued. Julian surely would have witnessed all of this, but she did not mention it in her writings. The anchoress was confident she had been shown the goodness of God.
Julian followed in the steps of visionary mystics Thomas Aquinas, Hildegard of Bingen, Meister Eckhart, and Mechtild of Madgeburg. The latter is quoted as saying, “God is not only fatherly. God is also Mother who lifts Her loved child from the ground to Her knee.” And we are “surrounded with the roundness of divine compassion.” Similarly Julian shares, “Jesus is our true mother in whom we are endlessly carried and out of whom we will never come. In our creation we were knit and oned to God. It is a precious oneing.” The motherhood of the Divine, the joy of creation, and our being loved and enmeshed within them feel progressive, but this original blessing theology is as ancient as Genesis 1. God saw what S/He had made, “And it was very good.” As we grow in our understanding of this oneing and beauty of all things, we truly live and move and have our being within the All. I am journeying this path. Leaning on and learning from the Holy One and each other is tangible. There is peace.
But lest we think Julian is a Pollyanna, she speaks of woe as well. For her, we must live into suffering, not run from it. She warned us, “Sometimes we experience such darkness we lose all our energy.” I know that feeling well. Just living in a world fraught with pain can produce spiritual and physical lethargy. Julian tells us to remember life is short. While we walk the via negativa, we must not lose sight of the goodness on the roadside. Remembering “Divine love is boundless and will continue forever” can return our steps to the via positiva, and we will be stronger for our learning. This is the perpetual two-step we each must dance.
Julian’s wisdom also came from being a careful observer. Her anchorhold had two windows. One was to the interior of the church to witness the Mass and the other to a well-traveled path that led to the village and the bustling port. Margery of Kempe, another mystic, wrote of Julian’s encounters with sailors and townfolk who often sought her spiritual direction. Margery spent many hours seeking her advice. And Julian had two helpers throughout her lifetime, Sara and Alice. She also always enjoyed the presence of a cat. When I remarked that a dog might have been cozier, she insisted dogs had inferior mousing skills.
Sara and Alice assisted Julian with her humblest needs. Rather than proclaiming our bodies unclean, Julian extolled, “God is in our sensuality. . . It is through our bodies, grounded in nature, that we learn compassion and grace.” Julian saw this as another way our Creator honors and celebrates the Divine Feminine. No “unclean” for Julian; the Divine is in All, all the time. Perhaps we can re-write the Holiness Code in Leviticus.
Julian of Norwich lived a long life. She was the beneficiary of four wills and, with some family money, sustained herself. And she was whip smart! Although not in written circulation, there were those who knew of her showings, listened to her wisdom, and sought her advice. She spent decades unfolding the truths she had received. And I smile when I think of her developing her legend within her own time.
There is little space in this writing to explore fully what this mentor and spiritual mother has meant to me on my faith journey. Her words have been a most precious gift. I also owe much to Matthew Fox, who must have been “bothered” by Dame Julian, because he published in 2020, “Julian of Norwich: Wisdom in a Time of Pandemic and Beyond.” It was his first time carefully studying her work. Also, he and Mirabai Starr have recently developed a seminar surrounding Julian, which in my spare time I would love to explore.
I do not believe in coincidence. I am “shown” reality when I am ready and even desperate to receive it. Julian said, “The soul has two duties. One is to wonder; be in ‘awe and surprised.’” And the other is, “Let go and take pleasure in God.” Well, my dear medieval sister, I love surprises, and you have given me those and affirmations as well. I am learning to let go of what I cannot control. It is not easy, but you have touched my soul and showed me how. We are truly oneing. As you observed:
“All Shall Be Well, and All Shall Be Well, and All Manner of Things Shall Be Well”