"The Lady Juliana was born about 1342, and when she was thirty years old, she became gravely ill and was expected to die. Then, on the seventh day, the medical crisis passed, and she had a series of fifteen visions, or "showings," in which she was led to contemplate the Passion of Christ. These brought her great peace and joy. She became an anchoress, living in a small hut near to the church in Norwich, where she devoted the rest of her life to prayer and contemplation of the meaning of her visions. The results of her meditations she wrote in a book called Revelations of Divine Love, available in modern English in a Penguin Paperback edition. During her lifetime, she became known as a counselor, whose advice combined spiritual insight with common sense, and many persons came to speak with her. Since her death, many more have found help in her writings."
James Kiefer at the Lectionary.
Readings:
Psalm 27:5-11 or 103:1-4,13-18
Hebrews 10:19-24
John 4:23-26
Preface of the Epiphany
PRAYER
Lord God, who in your compassion granted to the Lady Julian many revelations of your nurturing and sustaining love: Move our hearts, like hers, to seek you above all things, for in giving us yourself you give us all; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen
From Julian's writings:
Faith is
nothing else but
a right understanding
of our being -
trusting
and allowing things to be;
A right understanding
that we are in God
and God
whom we do not see
is in us.
And this:
God feels great delight
to be our Father
and God feels great delight
to be our Mother
and God feels great delight
to be our true Spouse
and our soul the loved Wife.
Christ feels great delight
that He is our Brother
and Jesus feels great delight
that He is our Liberator.
These are five great joys
that God wants us to enjoy.
From Meditations With Julian of Norwich by Brendan Doyle.
UPDATE: The painting above is "Portrait of a Woman" by Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1430. It is very likely not Julian of Norwich, but it's a lovely painting. Since we have no portrait from life, why not? I've always been intrigued by the woman's headdress in the picture. Also, I have flipped it to the correct facing. A scholar I'm not, but I do try to tell the truth, when I know it. Thanks to a knowledgeable friend for the help in this.
Image from Wiki.
I've never quite managed to get one with her. I think it was because I once saw a very bad dramitic reading of her works.
ReplyDeleteOr was that Hildergard of Bingham?
Oh well, one medieval contemplative woman is very much like another.
Sigh
DP!!
ReplyDeleteSigh.... That would be Hildegard of Bingen. Try to keep up, dear.
"Oh well, one medieval contemplative woman is very much like another."
ReplyDeleteForget dramatic readings, DP, and get back to the source material!
Tsk, tsk! It really is one of those days!
I could probably be a saint too if I had a had like that one!
ReplyDeleteBut could you be an anchoress, Lindy? Julian had a cat, so I suppose it would be OK if you'd seal yourself up with Rowan, but would he be happy without being able to run and play outside?
ReplyDeleteGrandmere, when you say, "Rowan" you surely don't mean ...?
ReplyDeleteHidergard of Binghampton,perhaps?
ReplyDeleteThe portrait is wonderful. Have just been looking at it in enlarged form (click and click again). The headdress is held in place by pins and appears to be seamless, constructed of a two lengths of fine linen (it's semi-transparent), with a third strip at the neck. What a chore to construct. Though doubtless a lady whose family could afford a portrait of this quality - one of the earliest Western true portraits - had maid service.
This is quite lovely. I only knew about her "all shall be well" saying. I especially liked "Christ feels great delight that He is our Brother" . . . but maybe that's because I've been thinking about the incarnation and wrote some haiku about it on my blog.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed the detail in this post. Thank you.
Lapin, it is a beauty. I wonder what holds the point on the right side up.
ReplyDeleteRuth, I'm pleased that you enjoyed it. I'll go read your haiku.
Women are so often wonderful -- even in ages where they are not valued.
ReplyDeleteAnd what a gift she provides for the hurting and the ailing.
Really spiffy Lady. Like so many who frequent this blog.
Really spiffy Lady. Like so many who frequent this blog.
ReplyDeleteSusanKay, yes.
RR, not the same Rowan. I'm sure Lindy would not want to be sealed up with the other Rowan.
C'est vrai, Grandmere - Rowan the Great doesn't get out much anyway. Or so it seems...
ReplyDeleteOh, Grandmère, thank you! I knew I could count on you to honor Julian today (with Mickey vacationing away). Lovely quotes. you're the best.
ReplyDeletePaul, I couldn't let it pass. It's sort of a pastiche post, because I was rushed. Her words make it come out right.
ReplyDeleteIf you blow the picture to its largest size (double click), Mimi, you can just make out the head of a pin in the right-hand horn of the headdress. The picture also illustrates - forgive me for being so worldly on so spiritual a thread - the medieval fashion for wearing rings above different knuckles of the finger. Specimens excavated from tombs indicate that even bishops' pontifical rings were worn in this manner.
ReplyDeleteLapin, way cool. Thanks for pointing out those interesting details.
ReplyDeleteAll in the interest of honoring the Incarnation, of course ;-).
Lapin, I did, and I can see now. It is truly an elaborate arrangement - all in the interest of honoring the incarnation.
ReplyDelete"Lapin, it is a beauty. I wonder what holds the point on the right side up."
ReplyDeleteStarch was often used (and pins).
Göran, I remember starch. From when I was a mere slip of a girl onward for a good many years, most of our clothes were starched.
ReplyDeleteClearly, the lady honored the Incarnation in Flanders! Lapin, that's good.
ReplyDeleteSealed up with the Tufti? Better than Dick Cheney, I suppose. Wags to Rowan.
Johnieb, "NOT SEALED UP WITH THE TUFTI" is good enough for the sidebar, right up there with "THIS BLOG IS NOT WINDSOR-COMPLIANT".
ReplyDeleteNo, Lindy could not be an Anchoress. Some days she barely makes it as a regular human. And neither of us would be very happy if we couldn't run and play outside.
ReplyDeleteThanks for taking up this real important issue G'Mère Mimi.
Love
Rowan
Rowan, I am but your humble servant.
ReplyDeleteDo you want to add it to yours before I do mine? Of course, Mimi, as you wish.
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting image of Julian, or any woman of that era. Thank you. I also appreciate all you wrote, esp. Julian's.
ReplyDeleteJan, she's actually about a hundred years too late for Julian, but she works for me.
ReplyDeleteJohnieb, you go first.
ReplyDelete