Almost nothing is known about Julian of Norwich, a fourteenth-century woman mystic who lived in isolation in Norwich, England. All we know about her life is that she experienced visions, which she wrote about in her only written work, Revelations of Divine Love. The really earthshaking thing about this book, though, is that in Julian’s theology, God is not male. Instead, God contains and expresses all genders. These days, many liberal churches are moving towards gender-neutral or gender-inclusive language when they talk about God, but keep in mind that this work wasn’t written in the present day: Julian lived in a time when accepted Christian theology held that women were temptresses, were inferior to men, and held little or no authority when speaking about God. So, in a word…she was a badass.
In one of the Revelations, God tells Julian,
“It is I who am the strength and goodness of fatherhood; I who am the wisdom of motherhood; I who am light and grace and blessed love; I who am Trinity; I who am Unity; I who am the sovereign goodness of every living thing; I who enable you to love; I who enable you to long. It is I, the eternal satisfaction of every genuine desire.”
“Because of the great, infinite love which God has for all humankind, he makes no distinction in love between the blessed soul of Christ and the lowliest of the souls that are to be saved … . We should highly rejoice that God dwells in our soul and still more highly should we rejoice that our soul dwells in God. Our soul is made to be God’s dwelling place, and the dwelling place of our soul is God who was never made.”
“Why are you afraid, O men of little faith?” These words of Our Lord are spoken to each one of us. Consider the things that frighten us. Many have been frightened of sickness, or they have feared those moments of illness which leave us isolated and alone in our suffering. Many people fear death, or the loss of financial stability, or the loss of worldly securities. Or perhaps we have been frightened that the church would be forced to close, and so we will be bereft of the Sacraments and sacramentals. The fear, though, is not so much a fear of the loss of these things but rather what they signify, which is salvation and life, closeness with God. And so, like the apostles, we might have thought that “we are perishing”, and the Lord appears to be asleep.
It is true that our voyage on the Barque of Peter right now seems stormy, and it might appear that the boat is “being swamped by the waves”. The Master, it seems, is asleep. There have probably been other moments when we have felt frightened and close to perishing: the unexpected trials and storms of life arise and threaten us, causing the frail flame of faith to gutter and flicker perilously; and we can be sure that still more will come our way. As the Lord says: “In the world you have tribulation.” (Jn 16:33)
But then the Lord goes on to say, reassuringly, “But be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” Why, then, are we afraid? Why do we have so little faith. For the issue isn’t that we have no faith at all, but rather that we have too much fear, fear of the unknown, fear of what is to come, fear that we do not see as far ahead into the darkness as we would like. For the light of faith, therefore, seems too dim to penetrate the gloom that lies ahead. But recall the words of St John Henry Newman. Although beset throughout his life by uncertainties and oppositions and fears and difficulties, he also learnt that faith is often the gift of having just enough light, a little but persistently light, by which to take things just one step at a time. So he wrote: “Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.”
I am reminded, then, of a game I used to play in school which was meant to teach us to trust in others. I’d be blindfolded, and somebody would have to lead me through a room to the door, going round various obstacles. I had to trust him, listen to him carefully, and trust that he would guide me out without allowing (too much) injury to befall me! It was always tempting to lift the blindfold, to just try and see which way we were going. But the goal of the game was to learn to trust in another. It was hard to trust a stranger or mere classmate, but easier if the person guiding me was a friend. So, too, with God and trust in Providence. If God remains a Stranger to us, and we are not familiar with his goodness, nor have we perceived his loving kindness to us, then it’s no wonder that we find it hard to trust him. But if we have befriended Christ, and we have become familiar with God’s Word and God’s ways, then it will be easier to let him guide us around the obstacles in life.
So, years ago, when I was discerning my vocation, a certain image came to mind and stayed with me: I was in a maze in a darkened room. And in one hand I had a torch light that I could put on at any time so that I could see where I was going. But with my other hand, I was being led by Christ who is the Light of the world, and who is the Way. Faith in God, and entrusting my future, my vocation, my life to him, then, was about letting him guide me through the maze of life. But every now and again, I would feel tempted to switch on the torch: I just had to know, so that I could see for myself what route to take, or how the future looked like. Only then would I trust in God and choose this vocation: when I knew for myself what it would look like and when I had the guarantees I needed. But whenever I was scared and tempted to turn the torch light on, I heard the Lord say: “Turn off the torch and let me be your light.” "Why are you afraid, O men of little faith?” says the Lord. “Am I not enough for you? Can you not see by my kindly light?”
For the issue then is not that we don’t have faith at all, but rather that we often prefer to guarantee things for ourselves, to have security, and we put our faith in our own plans, our own ingenuity and resources and our own works. Salvation, too, can become a matter of something that I frantically secure through my works, my plans, my desires. But faith, such as Jesus speaks of in the Gospel, is learning to calmly trust in the One who will not and has not abandoned us, even if he seems to be asleep. Faith is trusting that God knows the way forward, that his Providence governs all things at all time, most especially his own Bride, the Church. So, God sees the distant scene and he knows the route to the safe haven. Faith, then, is allowing Christ to lead us, to guide us one step at a time, and we must learn to trust in his Providence, his timing, his way forward, even if this takes us through a hurricane and whirlpools.
Yet, we need not fear so long as Christ is with us, as he promises to be. So he says at the end of St Matthew’s Gospel: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age”, (Mt 28:20) and indeed, at the end of the Bible, Christ declares: “Do not fear what you are about to suffer… Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.” (Rev 2:10) Be faithful, that is, full of faith, trusting in God’s Providence, God’s kindly light of faith. St John Henry Newman, therefore, had to learn to trust that Christ would lead him forward with the kindly, gentle, but maybe small light of faith. He writes: “I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now Lead Thou me on!”
In this we see a surrender from the desire for knowledge of the future, the craving for surety and certitude, and effectively, control of one’s course, and this gives way to the only necessary certainty, which is that God holds all in his loving Providence, and that he is leading us on by his grace. For has the Lord not told us: “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows”? (Mt 10:30-31) So, “why are you afraid, O men of little faith?”
Therefore, let us pray, as Newman does, for an increase in faith; pray that we will allow God to lead us on, confident that he knows what he is about even when we don’t. For as the 14th-century English mystic Julian of Norwich said: “I saw that truly nothing happens by accident or luck, but everything by God’s wise providence. If it seems to be accident or luck from our point of view, our blindness and lack of foreknowledge is the cause”. So, let us open our eyes to see with the eyes of faith, as today’s Gospel shows, that God is with us; that he hasn’t abandoned us; that he is not passively nor uncaring asleep, but rather he calls us to keep our gaze upon him, to pray with confidence, and so to trust in his power to save.
Hence St John Henry Newman says: “Such is God’s rule in Scripture, to dispense His blessings, silently and secretly; so that we do not discern them at the time, except by faith, afterwards only… Now consider how parallel this is to what takes place in the providences of daily life. Events happen to us pleasant or painful; we do not know at the time the meaning of them, we do not see God’s hand in them… Wonderful providence indeed which is so silent, yet so efficacious, so constant, so unerring! This is what baffles the power of Satan. He cannot discern the Hand of God in what goes on… Crafty and penetrating as he is, yet his thousand eyes and his many instruments avail him nothing against the majestic serene silence, the holy imperturbable calm which reigns through the providences of God.”
Yes, unlike the Devil, he who loves God, the true child of God, has a calm and imperturbable confidence in God’s mercy, God’s providential power, God’s saving grace. So the psalmist says that, with hope in the Lord, his soul is calm and quiet “like a child at its mother’s breast” (Ps 131:2) Consequently, Julian of Norwich, knowing that nothing escapes the wise Providence of God, was able to declare in her Revelations of Divine Love that ultimately “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” So let us not be afraid, O we of little faith. Rather, say: “Lord, increase our faith, and lead Thou me on!”
