"ALL SHALL BE WELL, AND ALL SHALL BE WELL AND ALL MANNER OF THINGS SHALL BE WELL"

 "All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well."  

 Julian's Church, Norwich         

Julian of Norwich wrote this from her anchoress' cell in Norwich, England during the Middle Ages.  I think of it now because all things are not well.  They never are. The earthquakes in Turkey and Syria, the war against the Ukrainians, domestic terrorism in the United States and all variety of personal trials from disease to heartbreak. With more to come. As I list these, I guess I'm wondering why Dame Julian's quote would occur to me at all.  It could legitimately be the last thing brought to mind.  

But like many, I love the quotation:  "All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well."  I love it because of its poetic rhythm, no small thing, and because I hope it is true.  Not in the future, but right now, today.  I want to trust this mystic.  

Born in 1342, Mother Julian chose the solitary life of an anchoress, in a small cell attached to a church in Norwich, England.  Like other men and women seeking this life, she obtained permission from the Bishop.  But her life was not only contemplation.  From a window in her cell, she dispensed prayers and wisdom to those who sought her out.  She was a spiritual authority and counselor.  Her abode still stands, and we visited it one fall.  She lived to about age 74.  

Julian's book The Revelations of Divine Love was written in Middle English and published in 1395.  It is a book of Christian mystical devotions. We can, if we wish, still rely upon it for understanding God. 

Julian's assurance seems different to me than a popular saying, "Not to spoil the ending, but everything is going to be OK."  Some things never "get well" in common parlance.  When a parent loses a child or a young child a parent, when addiction or mental illness steals someone's personality (or life), when a spouse dies, all is not well. If we had to say all was well in our lives today, could we say it?  Sometimes we are touched by something that can't be reversed, as the past cannot be.  Not as far into the future as the heart can see. So where is the comfort?  

I think the words of Julian of Norwich provide some.  First, we can imagine that travail in the Middle Ages must have been greater than today.  Men and women pilgrimaged to Julian's window daily to tell their woes and seek her advice.  And she told them: 

If there is anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe,

I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. 

. . .

 But this was shown: that in falling and rising again 

we are always kept in that same precious love.

If this is true, we can be comforted.  

Again, 

  He said not,  

 'Thou shalt not be tempested, 

thou shalt not be travailed,

 thou shalt not be diseased'; 

but he said, 'Thou shalt not be overcome.'" 

If this applies to us, we also can be comforted. 

This declaration that “all manner of things shall be well” does not eliminate misfortune, sickness or death. I believe it is pointing to God's gift that we each have experienced in our way: the ability to find peace, and even joy, in the eye of the storm — to come to trust that there is something that transcends chaos and impermanence.  And to know that that something is God. 

"Here Dwelt Mother Julian
Anchoress of Norwich"