And All Manner of Things
My homework for small group this week was to look up Lady Julian of Norwich.
She was a 14th Century mystic – a lady with visions, who wrote them down becoming the first woman to write a book in the English language.
The doctrine and revelations were a bit askew from church doctrine (including that of today), but she got away with it. You see, she was an anchoress, meaning that she lived 24/7 in a tiny cell in the church.
She even gave up her name — Julian is the name of the church, and Norwich the location.
Apparently that level of devotion earned you a bit of respect, so you could talk about G-d’s love being all about joy and compassion rather than the more trendy law and duty, and the church doesn’t slap your hand.
I could quibble with her theology myself, but since I can’t get through lent without candy, I’ll give the lady walled up in a church for decades a bit of latitude.
The cell for anchoresses had a rule – they needed three windows that opened. One into the church so she could hear mass; one to her servant (even an anchoress has got to eat); and one to the outside, so she can give advice to any who ask for it.
Imagine a “The doctor is in” and “5 cents” plastered to the wall outside, and you get the picture.
A life, really, of talking to G-d and to the people passing by.
(Referring to G-d): “He is our clothing. In his love he wraps and holds us. He enfolds us for love and will never let us go.”
“God accepts the good-will and work of his servants, no matter how we feel.”
And her most famous line:
“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
What can one say to that other than, “Well said.”
Just my thoughts,