Anchoress

Sunday I had a sad parting with a book I borrowed through the inter-library loan system, a volume called What Has Christianity Ever Done for Us? How It Shaped the Modern World, by Jonathan Hill. It’s a book for browsing more than for reading, so while I took in quite a bit of it, I didn’t finish it. Maybe I’ll put it on my wish list.

One of the last things I read was about the medieval mystic known as Julian of Norwich (b. 1342, d. 1416). Actually, that wasn’t really her name, “St. Julian’s” was the name of the church she was part of (literally; see below). How would you like that? Enough to make you join “Grace Fellowship” instead of “Calvary Road Baptist"!

Julian was an anchoress. No, that’s not a lady who hosts the evening news, and it has nothing to do with boats. An anchoress is an unmarried woman (not necessarily a nun) who attaches herself to a community, generally living in a small chamber attached to the church. Actually, she’s supposed to be walled in. It’s a pretty serious commitment. Apparently, they even performed a mass for the dead for you when you became an anchoress!

But that’s only the beginning, not the end, of such a life. Julian may have been a hermit of sorts but it seems to have been her job description to focus on drawing near to God, praying for her community, and giving counsel to those who came to consult her about their thoughts and affairs. In a lot of ways she was right in the middle of things. And she wrote a book about a series of visions she had, 'Revelations of Divine Love.'

Probably the most well-known of Julian's revelations had to do with what looked like a small, brown nut - a hazelnut. The universe is like this nut, God told her: a small thing, compared to its creator. But what's God's attitude toward his creation? He made it. He loves it. Therefore it stays. He keeps it.

Cool.

In Julian’s day, no respectable city was without an anchoress. Would that we were so well “anchored” today!

Julian also lived in dark times - a great plague was sweeping Europe. Taxes soared, harvests were terrible, confusion and persecution were rampant. The people of "St. Julian's" needed the hope, the joy, the love that Lady Julian found in the life and revelations (as well as common sense) God had given her, and that's what she shared with the people who came.

"All shall be well
And all shall be well
And all manner of thing
Shall be well."

You can read about why Julian is often pictured with a cat, here. The image above is by Br. Robert Lentz and is available here.