artin
Buber (1878-1965), as a young man, assembled contemplative writings
into a most
beautiful
anthology he published in 1909 that he called Ekstatische
Konfessionem, Ecstatic Conversations.
Into it he poured the spirituality of Hassidic Jews, of Sufi, of the
Friends of
God, of Julian of Norwich. For in contemplation all religions become
one, or, as
Julian says in her Middle English 'oned', rather than 'noughting',
cancelling
each other out. Yet, as we study these contemplatives (not choosing
the word
'mystic', too aloof from us), we shall find there is a division. The
Torah and
the Gospel are rooted and grounded in flesh and blood reality, in the
beginning
the Word creating all, then becoming flesh and blood, dwelling in our
midst, the
Incarnation, theology being the love of God and equally of our
neighbour.
Pseudo-Dionysius
(Thomas Aquinas cited him over a thousand times believing he was the
Dionysius
the Areopagite of Acts), instead, was a Neoplatonist Syrian, who spoke
of the
'dark cloud of unknowing' in which God is to be found, as if attaining
the Buddhist
Nirvana, Pseudo-Dionysius even inventing the word 'hierarchy'. We shall
find the Cloud
Author, who translated and put Pseudo-Dionysius' negative theology into
practice
in his contemplative treatises, to be resisted by the likes of Julian
of
Norwich
and Margery Kempe. The struggle is between elitist Plato and democratic
Christ; between philosophy and its gender apartheid on the one hand,
the Gospel and its inclusion of women on the other. That paradoxical
dialectic caused a springtime in the Christian theology of prayer, a
rich flowering and harvesting, down the centuries.
The ecstatic conversation amongst these contemplatives transcends space and time and gender and order, in dialogue between Augustinians, Benedictines, Brigittines, Carmelites, Carthusians, Cistercians, Dominicans, Franciscans, Hieronymites and lay people.The contemplative theology they conveyed was not the trauma of 'shock and awe', the sterile and paralysing apartheid of power, but instead the serotonin-enhancing awareness of the humility of the creature in the presence of the greatness, mercy and love, the might, wisdom and love, of the Creator. Amongst them illiterate women such as Umiltà of Faenza, Angela of Foligno, Catherine of Siena, and Margery Kempe could participate equally, dictating their theology to nuns and priests become their disciples, St Catherine even being proclaimed Doctor of the Church and then, with St Birgitta, Patron of Europe. Judaism and the Gospel celebrated littleness, the smallest Hebrew letter, yod, that beginning the names of God, Jesus and Jerusalem, and meaning hand, another letter, kaph, meaning the palm of the hand, while God is born as a baby in poverty in a stable in Bethlehem, dying on a gallows cross as a common criminal. Not only does it involve composing with words, but also their being written into books, such books being inscribed first on parchment, then on paper, first as manuscript, then in print, and bound between covers. The Beguines and the daughters of Nicholas Ferrar at Little Gidding will support themselves by binding such books. It is a tangible concrete linguistic theology where letters are things and also numbers, God creating the world with the Word, in number, weight and measure, 'Amen' being that which is said, which therefore is. It is opposed, as Augustine found, leading to his conversion, to Greek Neoplatonism's abstractions and hierarchies.
We shall
find Aelred of Rievaulx, the Ancrene
Wisse Author, Richard Rolle, Walter Hilton and the Cloud of Unknowing Author, writing
to anchoresses, generally using Pseudo-Dionysius, while the women to
whom they write have the example of Scholastica's 'holy disobedience'
to her twin brother Benedict, the resulting dialogue of bass and treble
voices
permitting 'ecstatic conversations'. One such 'ecstatic conversation'
is that between Saints
Augustine
and
Monica, another, between Richard
Rolle and Margaret Kirkby, another,
between Henry
Suso and Elsbeth Stägel. In the withdrawal
from the world, the stripping away of external things, in these holy
conversations, God is found - and shared. This 'cell of self knowledge
and of God' was
medieval psychiatry, was the soul-healing, rather than killing, was the
Gospel, the 'Good News', that gave happiness. In the Gospels, Jesus
seeks times of solitude and prayer, then returns to the world to carry
out healing. He himself prayed the Psalms and the prophets, such as
Isaiah. He taught the Lord's Prayer, which so echoes the Virgin's
Magnificat, again bass and treble voices, of gender inclusion. When I
was a novice I was told that his 'greatest gifts,
apart from himself, are the Psalter and the Lord's Prayer'. Monasteries
and anchorholds, for men and for women, created structures for that
withdrawal for prayer, but with the concommittant responsibility for
the
healing of the
souls, minds and bodies of all people of all walks of life.
We see,
for instance, the illiterate lay woman, Margery Kempe, having read to
her contemplative materials concerning Marie d'Oignies, Richard Rolle
and Birgitta of Sweden. When the
printing press was introduced
in England, these contemplative texts were promptly readied for wider
publication,
with that intent, particularly by Brigittine Syon Abbey, but at the
same time came the
Reformation, causing texts being readied for type-setting to be
blocked, as
was the case with the Westminster Manuscript of Julian's Showing of Love, or even whole
editions, every single volume, as was the case with Elizabeth Barton's
'Grete Boke', and even Elizabeth Barton OSB herself, destroyed, in
her case by hanging at Tyburn in 1534. Similarly, the Bishop of Cambrai
had destroyed all known copies of the Beguine Marguerite Porete's Speculum Simplicium Animarium, the Mirror of Simple Souls, then she
herself had been burnt at the Sorbonne in 1310. These crucial texts
were seen in England
as a
threat to the State, allied with the Church, first as seeming to be
Lollard for permitting women a theological voice, then as Catholic in
opposition to the Church of England, while in France, first Jean
Gerson,
Chancellor of the University of Paris, opposed these texts,
particularly those by women, and then they were seen by the
State and Church as partaking of the 'Quietist' heresy, finally the
atheist French Revolution condemned nuns to the guillotine, seizing
their contemplative
'superstitious' writings.
Our
first writers followed in Christ's footsteps, both in books, in the
Gospel, and in reality, on pilgrimage, re-imagining the events that had
taken place at Bethlehem and Jerusalem, the Nativity, the Crucifixion.
Later, cloistered women were discouraged from those pilgrimages, only
the lay Birgitta of Sweden and Margery Kempe being able to do so, the
others imaging them in their cells. We shall find images of pilgrims in
Christina of Markyate, Walter Hilton and Augustine Baker. The
Pseudo-Dionysian disciples,
among them Meister Eckhart and the Cloud
of
Unknowing author, however, discouraged the nuns' affective
imaging of Holy Land events.
Convents would become, quite literally at the French Revolution,
prisons.
Countering their negativity, William Flete, Alfonso of Jaén and
Adam Easton, a Norwich Benedictine and the Cardinal who effected
Birgitta's canonization, praised women's contemplative writings and
laid
down rules for their acceptance as prophetic where their visions led to
charity, to the love of God and neighbour. These 'ecstatic
conversations' on the part of hermits and anchoresses led to great joy,
even laughter, as we see in Richard Rolle, John Whiterig, the Cloud of Unknowing author and
Julian of
Norwich.
We
shall first present the contemplatives who were read in England and
throughout Latin Christendom, the
precursors and models for our own, Augustine with Monica, Jerome with
Paula and
Eustochium,
Arsenius, Boethius, Pseudo-Dionysius, Benedict, Scholastica and
Gregory. We
shall also
present the later influences upon the English contemplatives of
Continental Hildegard of Bingen (influenced by Anglo-Saxon Lioba),
Marguerite Porete,
Angela
of Foligno, Mechtild of Hackeborn, the Friends of God, Henry Suso and
Jan van Ruusbroec, Birgitta of
Sweden and
Catherine of Siena, from texts present in English manuscripts. We lack
Mechitild of Magdebourg's entry into this tradition until Lucy Menzies'
fine translation of her.
In the
second
part of this book, our truly
English contemplatives, Christina of Markyate, Richard Rolle, John
Whiterig,
William
Flete, the Cloud of Unknowing Author,
Walter Hilton, Julian of Norwich and Margery Kempe, are
presented,
giving also their textual transmission in manuscripts written out by
Brigittine
and Benedictine nuns and recusants. Our touchstone will be the Amherst
manuscript in which a Carmelite monk (perhaps Prior Richard Misyn),
copies out for Margaret Heslyngton and perhaps, earlier, for a
Carmelite
anchoress, such as Dame Emma
Stapleton, daughter of the Sir Miles Stapleton who is the executor of
the Countess of Suffolk's Will leaving Julian of Norwich a legacy,
magnificent contemplative texts. It
contains writings by Richard Misyn, Richard Rolle,
Marguerite Porete, Julian of Norwich, Jan van Ruusbroec, Henry Suso,
Birgitta of Sweden, and, in another manuscript by the same scribe,
Mechtild of Hackeborn.
The
third section discusses English nuns in exile at the Reformation, among
them first
the Brigittines, then the Benedictines, Dame Margaret Gascoigne, Dame
Gertrude More,
Dame
Catherine Gascoigne, Dame Barbara Constable, Dame Bridget More, Dame
Clementia Cary, Dame Agnes More, as they carried out Father Augustine
Baker's
suggestions
for editing and publishing in manuscript and in print the medieval
contemplative
texts, for treasuring these as their own monastic dowry and for sharing
it with the
English Mission.
We
present these texts in their original languages in sequence (like James
Joyce's Birth of Mrs Purefoy's Baby in the 'Oxen of the Sun' chapter to
Ulysses, where we are regaled
with
the nine centuries of the English language, alongside the nine months'
gestation of her child) so that this guide may be not only one to
contemplation but also be a linguistic study through time, as is
Fernand Mossè's most useful Handbook
of
Middle
English.
In an
epilogue we
see this tradition alive today in the writing about and editing of
these texts
by Evelyn Underhill and Lucy Menzies, by Father Robert Llewellyn and
Revd John Clark, these both Anglican priests, in the
careful
editorial publishing by Catholic James Hogg of the University of
Salzburg, and in the
practice
of Julian and Ruusbroec's spirituality by Don Divo Barsotti of
Settignano, and other
labourers in the vineyard. Italian has the word 'intrecciato', meaning
things being linked and braided together, being Lucretius' and John
Livingston Lowes' 'hooked atoms'. We shall find this here in this
anthology, strands being 'Arsenius', or 'pilgrim' or 'treadling', the
little white stone with one's name, or the hazelnut in the palm of
one's hand, or the whole cosmos shrunk into one ray of light.
An
Anglican
nun, I was staying at Kilcullen, County Kildare, in Ireland, amongst
Catholic nuns, one of whom
explained to
me that England is 'Mary's Dowry'. I had come to work with
Sister Anna Maria Reynolds, C.P., the
editor
of the extant manuscripts of Julian of Norwich. Together we discussed
the
opening of the Westminster Cathedral Manuscript of Julian, in which
Mary's
Advent contemplation, 'O Sapientia', of her as-yet-unborn Child, is
mirrored in
Julian's contemplation of Mary, and which in turn is mirrored in
ourselves reading Julian and thus mirroring her in ourselves and
through her, the
Virgin
and Child. Three
times in
Luke Mary treasures all these things in her heart. A Carthusian monk
enters his
cell through an ante-room called the 'Ave Maria', because of the
significance
of Mary and prayer.
This
e-book thus presents an anthology of the contemplative writings, those
written
out in
England, and
then in exile from England, being treasured and copied out in
turn by
generations, across space and time, becoming the
'English Mission' to win
back Mary's lost Dowry. Its Italian edition will be presented in
parallel text, both in English and in Italian.
Florence
Christmas Day, 2007
Table of
Contents
I. The
Precursors
A. Helena and Constantine, Monica and Augustine, Jerome, Paula and Eustochium, Arsenius, Boethius, Dionysius the Areopagite, Benedict, Scholastica and Gregory
B.
Lioba, Hildegard of Bingen, Marguerite
Porete, Angela of
Foligno, Mechtild
of Hackeborn, Dante Alighieri, the
Friends of God, Henry Suso,
Jan
van
Ruusbroec, Birgitta of Sweden,
Catherine of Siena
II.
Medieval
Irish and English Contemplatives
St
Patrick's Lorica, 'The Cry of the Deer'
'The
Dream of the Rood'
Christina of Markyate, Richard Rolle, John Whiterig, William Flete, Walter Hilton, the Cloud of Unknowing Author, Julian of Norwich, Margery Kempe
III.
Their
Preservers
A. The
Brigittines Orcherd of Syon,
Mirroure of Oure Lady
B. The
Benedictines: Dames Margaret Gascoigne, Gertrude More, Catherine
Gascoigne, Barbara
Constable, Clementia Cary, Father Augustine Baker, Serenus Cressy, OSB
Epilogue
I. The
Precursors A. Helena and
Constantine, Monica and Augustine, Jerome, Paula and Eustochium,
Arsenius, Boethius,
Dionysius the Areopagite, Benedict, Scholastica and
Gregory Helena
(†327) and
Constantine
(†337)
et
us begin with the Empress Helena,
mother of the Emperor Constantine.
The official account of her life speaks of her as an Eastern princess,
but in Celtic Britain the legends persist that she was a Christian
British
slave. She became Constantius' concubine and, A.D. 274, Constantine's
mother. She was repudiated by the Emperor Constantius in
292, next treated with honour by Constantine when he was proclaimed
Emperor,
at York, in 302. Christianity was adopted by the Empire in 312. It
could
well be that his mother, like African Augustine's, had much to do with
Constantine's conversion to Christianity. Constantine would establish
the seat of Empire not in Rome but in Byzantium, Constantinople, on the
shores of the Black Sea. Orthodox art before and after its iconoclastic
phase, shows the Madonna and Child dressed in imperial garb, in Roman
togas. This iconography doubly refers to Mary and Jesus, Helena and
Constantine, palimpsested the one on the other. Both times, when
iconoclasm is overturned, it is in turn carried out similarly by
Empresses, Irene in 787 and Theodora in 843, as we witness in the
British Museum's icon, the 1400 'The Triumph of Orthodoxy', showing the
Regent Empress Theodora with her four-year-old son the Emperor Michael
presiding at the restoration of the use of icons.

Helena, now Empress,
visited the Holy Places, such as Bethlehem,
Jerusalem and Sinai, determined where
their
churches
would be built, and she and her son officially established for
Christendom
the cult of the Cross. However it is likely that the present Mount
Sinai
is not the true Sinai of Exodus but a mountain Helena decreed by fiat
as
Mount Sinai and that declaration is taken on faith by pilgrims to this
day. Eusebius of Caesaria (260-339), their contemporary, wrote the
account
of Constantine and Helena's pilgrimages and building programmes in the
Holy Places. Eusebius emphasizes Constantine as undertaking the
excavations
on Golgotha and building the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in 335.
Later
legend will have this archeology and architecture be Helena's.
Eusebius
affirms Helena's actions in this area in connection with the Bethlehem
cave and basilica and with that on the Mount of Olives. He
touchingly
describes how she wished, quoting Psalm 132.7, to 'worship
at the place whereon his feet have stood.'
He also describes how
Greek
While, however, her character derived luster from such deeds as I have described, she was far from neglecting personal piety toward God. She might be seen continually frequenting his Church, while at the same time she adorned the houses of prayer with splendid offerings, not overlooking the churches of the smallest cities. In short, this admirable woman was to be seen, in simple and modest attire, mingling with the crowd of worshipers, and testifying her devotion to God by a uniform course of pious conduct.
Monica (†387) and Augustine (†430)
ugustine,
Aurelius
Augustinus,
was
born in Africa in A.D. 354 at a time when the Roman
Empire
was crumbling. He grappled with the conflicting beliefs of that
uncertain
era, coming to reject Neoplatonism and Manicheanism for Christianity,
being
converted in a garden outside Milan through reading Paul's Epistle. And
his mother's tears. He
had been a Professor of Rhetoric, of Literature, he now professed
Christ,
the Word. Edith Stein has written a beautiful
dialogue between Ambrose and Augustine in her Three Dialogues.
Augustine
was baptised by Ambrose in 387. Returning to Africa he became Bishop of
Hippo, dying as the Vandals were besieging his beloved cathedral city.
In his Confessions he
writes
his spiritual biography, much as Julian does in her Showing of Love.
In
it he explains that sin is the tending to non-being, to diverging from
God's Creation. In its Book XI Augustine
presents
a heady discourse upon Time and Eternity, based upon Ambrose's evening
hymn.
Latin
And so our discussion went on. Suppose, we said, that the tumult of man's flesh were to cease and all that his thoughts can conceive, of earth, of water, and of air, should no longer speak to him; suppose that the heavens and even his own soul were silent, no longer thinking of itself but passing beyond; suppose that his dreams and the visions of his imagination spoke no more and that every tongue and every sign and all that is transient grew silent - for all these things have the same message to tell, if only we can hear it, and their message is this: We did not make ourselves, but he who abides for ever made us.
or
was Helena the only European woman to visit the Holy Places in Africa
and
Asia during this period and to write letters describing her
experiences.
Let us also look at the Roman matron and widow Paula and her virgin
daughter
Eustochium. Paula and Eustochium wrote an important, joint, and
most
joy-filled letter to their friend in Rome, Marcella, published as
Jerome's
Epistola XLVI/46, in which they described their pilgrimage in A.D. 385
to the Holy Places, to Africa, to Israel, before settling down for the
rest of their lives with Jerome in Bethlehem, financially supporting
him
and assisting his labours with translating the Bible from Hebrew
and Greek into Latin, the Vulgate text to which Egeria did not have
access.
We often see paintings of scarlet-clad
Cardinal
Jerome in his study at his
labours, but his womenfolk are forgotten and
omitted from those canvesses, except in two, one now in the National
Gallery
in London, but which was at San Girolamo in Fiesole, which shows the
widowed
Paula, at her side her most beautiful virgin daughter, Eustochium, and
another by Francisco Zurburan and Workshop now in the National
Gallery in Washington, and
originally painted for the Hieronymite
Order founded by Alfonso of Jaén's brother, and to which
belonged the
famous
Sor Juana de la Cruz in Mexico City.
Paula movingly
contrasts the
wealth
of Rome and the poverty of Bethlehem:
Latin
Paula's pilgrimage, like Egeria's, is a mapping out in time and space, using the Bible to understand the lands of the Bible. But Paula adds to Egeria's knowledge of the Bible in its Old Latin translation and her curiosity about Greek and comparative liturgy, her own knowledge not only of classical Latin but also of Greek and the Hebrew she is avidly studying. Helena, Egeria and Paula all use time and space, the book of the Bible and geography of the Holy Land as their Internet upon which to weave a web of links to sanctity, retrieving what is hallowed and hallowing.
Twenty years later, Jerome was to write another letter, his Epistola CVIII/108, praising Paula, and in it recapitulating the description of the pilgrimage that she had made. We learn much about Paula in Jerome's voluminous writings. He tells of her luxurious Roman life, her wealth, and her very great status. She, who had once always dressed in silks, and who had been used to being carried about Rome by her eunuch slaves so that her feet might never touch the ground, who was descended from Agamemnon, and whose husband was descended from Aeneas, had joined Marcella's group of high-born, wealthy Roman ladies, who together attempted to follow a life of monastic severity. Jerome became their teacher, expounding the Scriptures to them. But he quarrelled with Church officials in Rome most bitterly and found it expedient to return to Bethlehem. Paula and her daughter, Eustochium, joined him there, Paula leaving behind the rest of her children weeping on the quay. In the Holy Land Paula studied Hebrew so that she might sing the psalms, the chief early Christian devotional practice, in their original language and assist him in his translation work. She lived for twenty years in Bethlehem, dying there in A.D. 404. Paula and Eustochium's letter to Marcella pleads with their old friend that she leave Rome, called in the letter a 'Babylon,' and come to Jerusalem and its Holy Places. A noted Jerome scholar remarks that this letter is 'written in the name of Paula and her daughter but manifestly by Jerome himself, to Marcella,' then goes on to say, 'It is an idyllic piece, relating spiritual serenity and contentment . . . and stands in striking contrast to the querulous, vituperative note' of Jerome's typical writings. We find other male scholars making the same statements of Heloise's letters, that they are Abelard's, yet that they are in a totally different style than his.
The letter in question is Epistola XLVI. It describes Paula's pilgrimages to all these Holy Places in such a way as to have Marcella participate in their sacred journeying, mentally, and vicariously, in her imagination. Paula and Eustochium begin their letter by stating that, although the Crucifixion may have made Jerusalem an accursed place, there is ample scriptural justification for Christians to return to that holy city. Paula relies not only on the Scriptures and upon her growing knowledge of Hebrew but also upon Cicero for her arguments, describing both St. Paul speaking of his need to return to Jerusalem and Cicero speaking of his need to learn one's Greek not only in Sicily but in Athens, one's Latin not in Lilybaeum but in Rome. She adds, in a capstone to her argument, that Jerusalem is 'our Athens.' She then quotes Virgil's First Eclogue on the great distance of the British Isles from Rome in noting that Christian Gauls and Britons all make haste to come, not to Rome, but to far Jerusalem. Jerome is also fond of this phrase, but states it the opposite way: ' Et de Hierosolymis et de Britannia aequaliter patet aula coelestis: regnum enim dei intra nos est,' Epistola LVIII. Chaucer may have had it in mind with his Wife of Bath, who so often speaks of Jerome. Jerome writes the letter in 404 after Paula's death, giving Paula's vita to her virgin daughter, Eustochium. In contrast to Paula's letter to Marcella, Jerome's account of the pilgrimage Paula made is almost barren of references to classical authors. He does, however, mention the ' fables of the poets', de fabulis Poetarum , in giving the tale of Andromeda chained to a rock, as happening at Joppa, which he notes was also the harbor of the fugitive Jonah. He had earlier cited some lines of the Aeneid concerning the Greek Isles. But, unlike Paula, he does not show off his classical learning. He is here being more Christian than Ciceronian. (We recall his dream in which he is chided, or chides himself, by being told, 'Thou art not a Christian. Thou art a Ciceronian.' But it is full of descriptions of her great piety and of her deep emotional participation in the past drama of the present places which she visits. He feminizes her. He is writing in her praise as had Valerius in that of Egeria. The letter waxes most sentimental about her parting from her family members, describing her as torn between the love of her children and her love for God.
Jerome in Epistola CVIII/108
notes
Paula's deep, affective piety at the Cross and the Sepulchre in
Jerusalem,
and at the cave and church in Bethlehem, which she had not particularly
stressed herself. He amplifies her previous words to Marcella and
speaks
of her as prostrating herself before the Cross, almost seeing upon it
the
hanging body of the Lord, as she prays, and as kissing the stones, the
one which the angel had rolled away and the one in the Holy Sepulchre
on
which the Lord had lain. Then he describes her entering into the cave
of
the Nativity, weeping and as if
seeing
the Virgin wrapping the Child in swaddling clothes and placing him in
the
manger between the ox and the ass written of in the Prophets, the Magi
adoring him, the star shining above, the Mother nursing the Child, the
shepherds coming by night and seeing the Word which was made flesh as
John
wrote in the beginning of his Gospel:
n
principio erat verbum et verbum caro factum est.'
One should note that Jerome, Paula and Eustochium lived in the adjacent cave, which one can still see today, reached by a passage from that of the Nativity, beneath the sanctuary in the Empress Helena's Bethlehem basilica.
Jerome's account in
Epistola
CVIII/108
ends by saying, and unconsciously echoing Valerius concerning Egeria:
Latin
His book was treasured up for centuries, only falling out of favour at the Age of Reason. King Alfred translated it into Old English, Jean de Meun translated it into French, Chaucer translated it into Middle English. Queen Elizabeth I translated it into Elizabethan English. Dante, Chaucer and Julian of Norwich all used its concepts and were all deeply influenced by it. Boethius' Consolation is a key to understanding medieval poetry and Christian theology. It is also a 'golden book' as Edward Gibbon called it, that can be of use to disordered souls in our own moment in time.
The work is written in sections, divided between Prose and Poetry. Medieval manuscripts of the text are richly illuminated, presenting Boethius in prison, mourning on his bed, and visited by the Lady Philosophia, and from her Dante derived his consoling figure of Beatrice.
Book II, Poem 8 Philosophia: Love rules the earth and the seas, and commands the heavens.
Book III, Prose 1 Philosophia: I am about to lead you to true happiness, to the goal your mind has dreamed of. But your vision has been so clouded by false images you have not been able to reach it.
Poem 1 Philosophia: Just so, by first recognizing false goods, you begin to escape the burden of their influence; then afterwards true goods may gain possession of your spirit.
Poem 3 Philosophia: The only stable order in things is that which connects the beginning to the end and keeps itself on a steady course.
Poem 9 Philosophia: You [God] who are most beautiful produce the beautiful world from your divine mind and, forming it in your image, You order the perfect parts into a perfect whole.
Prose 12 Philosophia: Then it is the supreme good which rules all things firmly and disposes all sweetly (Wisdom 8.1). Boethius: I am delighted not only by your powerful argument and its conclusion, but even more by the words you have used. And I am at last ashamed of the folly that so profoundly depressed me. Philosophia: Then can God do evil? Boethius: No, of course not. Philosophia: Then evil is nothing, since God, who can do all things, cannot do evil. Boethius: You are playing with me by weaving a labyrinthine argument from which I cannot escape. You seem to begin where you ended and to end where you began. Are you perhaps making a marvelous circle of the divine simplicity? Philosophia: As Parmenides puts it, the divine essence, is 'in body like a sphere, perfectly rounded on all sides'.
Book IV, Prose 6 Philosophia: Consider the example of a number of spheres in orbit around the same central point: the innermost moves toward the simplicity of the center and becomes a kind of hinge about which the outer spheres circle; whereas the outermost, whirling in a wider orbit, tends to increase its orbit in space the farther it moves from the indivisible midpoint of the center. If, however it is connected to the center, it is confined by the simplicity of the center and no longer tends to stray into space. In like manner whatever strays farthest from the divine mind is most entangled in the nets of Fate; conversely, the freer a thing is from Fate, the nearer it approaches the center of all things. Therefore, the changing course of Fate is to the simple stability of Providence as time is to eternity, as a circle to its center.
Book V, Prose 6 Philosophia: Eternity is the whole, perfect, and simultaneous possession of endless life. The meaning of this can be made clearer by comparison with temporal things, For whatever lives in time lives in the present, proceeding from past to future, and nothing is so constituted in time that it can embrace the whole span of its life at once. It has not arrived at tomorrow, and it has already lost yesterday; even the life of this day is lived only in each moving, passing moment. But God sees as present those future things which result from free will. If you will face it, the necessity of virtuous action imposed upon you is very great, since all your actions are done in the sight of a Judge who sees all things.

Gothic Architecture, Norwich Cathedral
But Abelard, while a monk at St Denis, denounced Dionysius's identity as fraudulent. Meanwhile, the Victorines also discovered and used the Dionysian corpus of writings. Cardinal Adam Easton, the brilliant Benedictine of Julian's Norwich, owned the complete works of Pseudo-Dionysius, in a fine thirteenth-century manuscript giving some of the Greek text as well as all the Latin translation, the invocation to the Trinity being most beautifully illuminated with a gold-leafed, intertwined 'T' at folio 108v. That manuscript is today, Cambridge Ii.III.32. Meanwhile, the Cloud of Unknowing Author (but whom I suspect to have been Adam Easton writing to Julian), translated the Mystic Theology into Middle English as Deonise Hid Diuinite for a woman contemplative. To do so he converted the Trinity into an invocation to divine and feminine Wisdom.
Benedict (†547), Scholastica (†before 547) and Gregory (†604)
regory
the Great (c. 540-604)
wrote an account of the Life and
Miracles
of St Benedict (c.480-547), casting these in the form of Dialogues
between
himself and Peter, a fellow monk. In these Dialogues there is a
most moving account of Benedict and of his twin sister Scholastica
and how she is able to force her brother to break his Rule and stay
over
night at her convent at Subiaco so that they may converse all night
upon God. She
prays to God for a storm which he grants. Three days later she dies.
That account is followed by one of Benedict's vision of God as greater than all his Creation. He is standing in prayer at a window of a great tower, apart from his sleeping disciples, when suddenly there is a great light, greater than that of the sun. As he marvels he suddenly sees as it were the whole world collected into one ray of light before his eyes.
Gregory and Peter discuss that vision, Gregory explaining that to the soul who sees the Creator all Creation becomes small, 'animae uidenti creatorem angusta est omnis creatorem'. He goes on to explain that it is not that the world contracts, but that the soul, seeing God, expands above the world, becoming greater than itself. 'Quod autem collectus mundus ante eius oculos dicitur, non caelum et terra contracta est, sed uidentis animus dilatatus, qui, in deo raptus, uidere sine difficultate potuit omne quod infra deum est'. And he further discourses upon the interior light and that of the eyes in this vision. The male abbot has experienced Mary's Magnificat in his prayers. 'My soul doth magnify the Lord'. Smallness become largeness; darkness, light; humility, power.
Gregory's Dialogues was, of course, a staple in Benedictine circles. The lovely dialogue, within the Dialogues, following upon this one of Benedict's vision of God, was of the twin brother and sister, and which is sung antiphonally on the feast day of Benedict and Scholastica by Benedictines, celebrating the breaking of their sacred Rule. And that served to make Benedict's following vision concerning prayer the more memorable.
Christina of Markyate refers to Benedict's vision, where she sees in a flash of light the whole world.
And Julian of Norwich refers to it - and especially in connection with the Virgin at the Annunciation and Nativity,

and with the hazelnut passage,

and then again and again fugally throughout her text.
For
Julian,
whose
anchorhold
at
St Julian's Church is under the Benedictines of Carrow Priory, who are
in turn under the Benedictines of Norwich Cathedral Priory, is seeped
in
Benedictinism. It is possible that her Benedictinism is taught her by
the
brilliant Norwich Benedictine Adam Easton.
It
is even possible that Adam Easton might be her brother, might even be
her
twin.
B.
St Lioba, Hildegard of Bingen, Marguerite
Porete, Angela of Foligno, Mechtild of Hackeborn, Dante Alighieri, the
Friends of God, Henry Suso, Jan van Ruusbroec, Birgitta of Sweden,
Catherine of Siena
n
Early Christianity, in Ireland and England, hermits, contemplatives,
paralleling
those of the Egyptian and Syrian deserts, were known as the
Celi Dei
, the Friends of God. This name is also frequent in later contemplative
movements and writings. At the same time that Julian of Norwich,
Walter
Hilton and the author of the Cloud of Unknowing were
formulating
their contemplative texts in England, other mystics were writing on the
Continent. As in England, women were present alongside men in this
project,
this textual community stretching over most of Europe. Meister Eckhart
had available to him the writings of Hildegard von Bingen, as had also
John Tauler those of Mechtild von Magdebourg, and those of Marguerite
Porete.
Associated with Meister Eckhart was Agnes of Hungary, with Henry Suso,
Elsbeth Stägel, while John Tauler likewise preached to Dominican
nuns
and Jan van Ruusbroec wrote spiritual treatises to them. That sense of
women belonging to the 'Friends of God' (Wisdom 7.27, James 2.23) as
well
as men may have had its origins in the Christianizing of Germany from
England
by Anglo-Saxon monks and nuns, influenced by the Celi Dei, and who
established
double monasteries, St Hilda's Whitby, St Lioba's Bischopsheim and
countless
others. At first the mysticism, or contemplation, is Benedictine. Then
it becomes strongly Dominican. Associated with it are also the women
Beguines,
such as Margaret Porete
and Mechtild
of Magdebourg. This booklet traces the lives and works of the God
Friends, recognising that three of their texts, Marguerite Porete's Mirror
of
Simple
Souls, Jan van Ruusbroec's Sparkling
Stone and an extract of Henry Suso's Horologium
Sapientiae, are found together with Julian's Showing of
Love
in the Amherst Manuscript in the British
Library
and that these other works may well have been translated for her and
thus
constituted her Library of Mystics from which she partly drew her
inspiration.
t
Boniface travelled from England to Germany proselytizing amongst the
pagan
tribes there and establishing monasteries for both men and women.
St
Lioba, St Boniface's kinswoman, was a nun
in Wessex who had studied under Mother Tetta (in secular life,
Cuthberga,
sister of the King of Wessex, wife of the King of Northumbria).
Boniface
sent for Lioba to come to Germany, because she was a skilled
Classicist,
learned in the Scriptures, the Church Fathers, canon law and the
decrees
of all the councils. In fact, she was never without a book in her hand,
reading at every possible opportunity and she never forgot what she
read.
Her name 'Lioba' means 'Beloved'. Boniface asked that her bones be laid
by his at her death. Charlemagne's wife adored her but Lioba hated the
life of court like poison.Her life tells, among others, this story: 'She had a dream in which one night she saw a purple thread issuing from her mouth. It seemed to her that when she took hold of it with her hand and tried to draw it out there was no end to it. . . When her hand was full of thread and it still issued from her mouth she rolled it round and round and made a ball of it .' An old and prophetic nun was asked about the meaning of the dream and explained that it referred to Lioba's wise counsels spoken from her heart. 'Furthermore, the ball which she made by rolling it round and round signifies the mystery of the divine teaching, which is set in motion by the words and deeds of those who give instruction and which turns earthwards through active works and heavenwards through contemplation, at one time swinging downwards through compassion for one's neighbour, again swinging upwards through the love of God.'
The
image
of
the ball of
purple
thread in Lioba's hand is similar to Julian's hazel
nut in the palm of her hand.
From the Lucca Manuscript
Deus creavit mundum
non
facio
illi iniuriam,
sed
volo
uti illo.
Hildegard, Ordo Virtutum
ildegard
of Bingen, and other women like her, such
as Hrotswitha of Gandesheim (A.D. 932-1000) and Herrad of Landesburg,
followed
in the learned Benedictine tradition established in German-speaking
countries
from England, such as with St Leoba, which gave women the status of
Christian equality with
men.
Hildegard composed music and wrote treatises on medicine, on Benedict's
Rule, a play, many letters, and visionary mystical works which she also
illuminated in a manner that is deeply compelling. But, unlike Lioba,
she
was not a pleasing person. Until the age of forty she kept to her bed.
Richardis, her friend and fellow nun, then persuaded her to embark on
her
career as writer of letters to the leaders of Church and State in her
day
and to compose her mystical treatises. When Richardis left her to
become
an abbess at another monastery Hildegard was furious, demanding her
return.
Richardis, obediently, died. Hildegard ruled her monastery by means of
tyrannising over her nuns with her migraines - about which she writes
in
her medical works and whose effect she illuminates in her mystical
treatises.
She is an example of a genius who is less than charitable. One admires
her work, but not her desire for control. She has significant prophetic
messages for us today.
In real life there was such a prodigal daughter, Richardis von Stade, the much loved fellow nun who had colluded with and nursed Hildegard in her illness of not only the customary migraines but even bouts of blindness and paralysis at the time when she sought to leave Disibodenberg in order to found Rupertsberg. Richardis had encouraged Hildegard in her writing of Scivias, begun in 1141. Perhaps she recognized that this was psychotherapy for her abbess. The partly completed text of Scivias, Bernard's interest in it, and Richardis' family influence enabled Pope Eugenius III to grant papal recognition to Hildegard at the Synod of Trier and also made possible the move to Rupertsberg. At this time the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa had a secret interview concerning prophecy with Hildegard, the Sibyl of the Rhine, at his royal palace at Ingelheim. It is very likely that these clustered actions took place through the influence of Richardis von Stade and her powerful family in their attempt to save Hildegard's life.
Then Adelheid was elected abbess of Gandesheim in 1152, Richardis having been elected abbes of Bassum in 1151. Hildegard had bitterly opposed Richardis' election which would take her way from her, and she ungratefully took the case to her family and to the pope. Adelheid's election was not so disturbing to her. The Archbishop of Bremen, Richardis' brother, have been forced to write to Hildegard to break the news to her of Richardis' sudden death on 29 October 1151. He told her that his sister when dying had stated her intention of returning to Hildegard and Rupertsberg. Hildegard, answering his letter, described Richardis in words that echo and mirror those of the Ordo Virtutum and its surrounding text in the Scivias; there are also echoes of another letter written to a woman who had abandoned being a nun and to whom Hildegard had referred as a prodigal son. In all these writings Hildegard stressing her outrage at women's disobedience, used the Benedictine emphasis upon Ordo, even to the extent of paraphrasing Benedict's Rule, while describing the serpent, the devil, in Virgilian terms borrowed from the Aeneid, Book II, to give vent to her personal emotions.
Perhaps within that rage is Hildegard's envy of Richardis' freedom. Her headaches and invalidism could indicate suppressed fury. She herself tended to recover from serious illness through being disobedient. She had been presented to Disibodenberg as a child of eight, and took her vows of perpetul virginity and obedience very early in life. Obedience, Ordo, is central to her life and art. Yet her writings are full of sexual curiosity and lore, this material granting her writings some of their most powerful images. Yet she disobeyed Disibodenberg in founding St Rupertsberg. Yet she herself would defy St Paul against women preaching, and she would herself preach at Trier - like Mary Magdalen's legendary preaching in Provence. Mary Magdalen being perceived in monasticism as having been the first contemplative, the model for monastic life - though Hildegard oddly compared her love for Richardis to that of Paul for Timothy. Yet she would even, in 1178, when she was eighty, defy the Church concerning the burial of a young nobleman and would face six months of excommunication. Yet her music disobeys, to its glory, the acceptable and expected intervals of Gregorian chant. Not for nothing did Goethe, who knew her work, echo her love of viriditas with his Faustian 'Grey, dear Friend, is all theory,/ And green is life's golden tree'.
In
the play, but only in play,
not
in reality, the Anima/
Richardis returns to Queen Humility/ Abbess
Hildegard,
the ugly shouted words of the Devil giving way to the chanted symphony
of the Virtues and the returned Soul - an alternative and comedic
ending
to the tragic story. The scenes of the Soul and of the chained Devil
are
splendidly illuminated in the now lost Scivias codex.
It could well be that had it not been for Richardis' disobedience,
first
to the concept of women's helplessness, then to the concept of her
dependency
upon another, and finally Richardis' choice of death as freedom from
Hildegard's
tyranny, the writings, the music and the illuminations we so treasure
today
could not have come into being. They are like the pearl of great price:
they inscribe, chant and illumine the Kingdom of Heaven. Let us now
conclude
with Hedwig's vision of Hildegard walking in the cloister which she had
built, singing her own sequence O virga ac diadema.
Mechtild
of Hackeborn (†1298)
ertrude
of Hackeborn was elected Abbess of Helfta
in 1251 at nineteen. Her sister, Mechthild
of Hackeborn, like Mechtild
of Magdebourg, wrote visionary works. And
so did another nun who entered the convent, Gertrude
the Great. Their visions are largely
based
on Bernard and the Song of Songs and filled with eroticism and the Body
of Christ, in particular, his Sacred Heart. Julian is to borrow some of
that imagery in her Showing of Love for the scene where Christ
shows
her the wound in his side, as he had earlier shown it to Doubting
Thomas,
to affirm his love for his Creation. The scribe of her Amherst Short
Text
Showing of Love also is the scribe of Mechtild of Hackeborn's Book
of
Ghostly
Grace in Middle English.
The seventeenth-century English Benedictine nuns
in exile
consciously took Helfta as their model, the very young Helen More
taking the name in religion of 'Gertrude'
with that awareness.
Angela of Foligno (†1309)
ngela of Foligno, a
Franciscan
tertiary, who did not really choose to live in a physical cloister or a
physical cell, spoke of the fruits of contemplation as being where
one's
soul becomes a room, a cell, in which one finds the All Good, finds the
entire Creation. This account, written down at her dictation by Fra
Arnaldo,
her confessor and spiritual director, often clandestinely, gives: 'anima mea
est una camera . . . est ibi . . . omne bonum'.
Et aliquando dum eram in praedictis dixit mihi Deus: Filia divinae sapientiae, templum Dilecti, delectum Dilecti. Et: Filia pacis, in te pausat tota Trinitas, tota veritas, ita quod tu tenes me et ego teneo te. Et una operationum animae est, quod intelligo cum magna capacitate et cum magno delectamento quomodo Deus venit in Sacramento altaris cum illa societate (IX: p. 215)/.
Et ego frater scriptor quaesivi ab ea si illa acies, postquam acies erat, si habebat aliquid mensurae in longitudine aliqua vel in latitudine aliquo modo. Et ipsa respondit quod non habebat aliquam mensuram in longitudine vel latitudine, sed erat ineffabiliter. (IX: p. 211)./
(Oportet quod homo cognoscat)
Iterum cum quaereretur ab ea quare oportet haberi paupertatem, dolorem et despectum, respondit: Oportet quod homo cognoscat Deum et seipsum.
Cognitio Dei praesupponit cognitionem sui hoc modo, ut videlicet homo consideret et videat quem offendit; postea consideret et videat quis est ipse qui offendit. Ex qua secunda consideratione et visione datur gratia super gratiam, visio super visionem, lumen super lumen.
Ex his incipit devenire ad cognitionem Dei. Et quanto amplius cognoscit, tanto amplius diligit; et quanto amplius diligit, tanto plus desiderat; et quanto plus desiderat, tanto fortius operatur. Et ista operatio est signum et mensura amoris; quia in hoc cognoscitur si amor est purus et verus et rectus, si homo diligit et operatur quod dilexit et operatus est ille quem diligit.
Sed Christus, quem diligit, habuit, dilexit et operatus est illa tria donec vixit; ergo qui eum diligit, debet eadam semper diligere, operari et habere sicut Christus ea habuit, ut habetur supra./
Perhaps Franciscan Angela of Foligno helped shaped Dominican Catherine of Siena's and Benedictine Julian of Norwich's concept of a 'Cell of Self-Knowledge'. Certainly the English Benedictine nuns in exile at Cambrai and Paris were copying out her text as well as Julian's. A small manuscript by them, Bibliothèque Mazarine 1202, titled 'Colections', finished 23 July 1724, on pages 21-22, gives:
n a certain
time
while I pray'd in my Cell, these words were sayd
unto me interiorly by God.
It is not likely
that Julian
was
influenced by Dante except, perhaps, through Cardinal
Adam Easton, who quotes from him in his own writings. What is
important
is that they share the same principles derived from these preceding
mystic
theologians, participating in a past 'Internet' of God's Wisdom. Common
also to many of these mystics, these Friends
of
God, is the sense of drawing apart, as to Mount
Tabor with Christ, only to descend the Mountain again to be with
all
people in God's image, to be both chosen and universal, to treasure
these things in their heart as had Mary, their task to
seek
Wisdom, amongst women and amongst men, and with her to be part of God's
sweet ordering of the cosmos.
All these writers, Augustine, Boethius, Dionysius, Dante and Julian, are influenced by the Hebraic and feminine figure of God's Wisdom, God's Daughter.
The
Friends of God, Henry Suso, Jan van Ruusbroec Henry Suso (†1366)
enry
Suso
was
born in Switzerland about 1296, entering the Dominican monastery at
fifteen.
Five years later, after much guilt and excessive asceticism (including
inscribing Jesus' name over his heart upon his flesh with his writing
stylus),
he was 'converted', giving his heart to the love of Eternal Wisdom. He
worked with
Meister Eckhart at Cologne after
1320 and wrote the Book of Divine Truth in defense of Eckhart's
teachings. Suso was then himself forbidden to
teach, though he continued
to write, and he wandered about, in close contact with John
Tauler, Henry of Nordlingen and other 'Friends of God'. Elsbeth
Stägel, a Dominican nun at Töss, wrote his Life and
received
assistance from him as the 'Servant' on interpreting Eckhart's writings.

Einsiedeln, Cod. 710 (322), fol. 89, Henry Suso and Elsbeth Stagel sheltering under cloak of Sapientia
The Horologium Sapientiae ('Clock of Wisdom', the 'Computer of Wisdom'), was written in 1339. Henry Suso died at Ulm, 1366. Immensely popular throughout Europe this work was translated into other languages.
Henry Suso's Horologium Sapientiae, in British Library, Add. 37,790, fols. 135v-136v, presents part of Chapter Four's dialogue between Wisdom and the Disciple. British Library, Add. 37,790, the Amherst Manuscript, also contains Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love, Marguerite Porete's Mirror of Simple Souls, Jan van Ruusbroec's Sparkling Stone, and works by Richard Rolle, Walter Hilton and Birgitta of Sweden. It may have been copied out by Richard Misyn himself for the recluse Margaret Heslyngton, and these earlier layers of the manuscript could have even been written as early as circa 1413, and represent Julian's own contemplative library. One may be reading what she once read.
Both Henry Suso and
Richard
Rolle
stress
Jesus
' name, Suso inscribing it upon his own flesh over his heart with his
writing
stylus, Rolle wearing it as an embroidered badge upon his hermit's
garb,
Charles de Foucauld as a hermit using a similar practice in our own
century.
Women were more likely to centre such a concept upon the heart
of Jesus, as did Mecthild of Hackeborn, whose Book of Ghostly Grace
in British Library, Egerton 2006, is copied out by the same scribe as
that
of this Amherst Manuscript, and as did Julian of Norwich herself.
There is a Carol sung each Christmas in Germany, said in its legend to have been sung by the Angels when they danced with Henry Suso.
The concluding reference in this text to the Desert Father Arsenius is also to be found in the booklet 'Colections', seized at the French Revolution. Manuscripts of this text by Henry Suso are sometimes illuminated with Henry Suso, who was Swiss, and his translator together gazing upon the medieval form of a computer, an elaborate Swiss clock, presented to us by the figure of God as female Wisdom. The rubrication here follows that in the Amherst Manuscript.
A Brief Formula for the Spiritual Life:
N the
fellowship
of
saints which as the morning stars
shone in the dark night of this
world and as the sun and moon
shed forth the beams of their
clear
knowledge you shall find some who
surpassingly were perfectly
grounded
not only in active life and virtue but
also in contemplation, of whose
teaching and example you may take
the most perfect doctrine and
love
of true spiritual life. And nevertheless I
willingly and condescendingly to
your youth and inexperience shall give you
some principles of spiritual
living
for a memory to have always
at hand to set you in the right
working if you desire
to have the perfection of
spiritual
life that is to be desired by all men
and if you will and desire to
take
it up manfully you shall first
withdraw from ill fellowship and
harmful company of all men who would
hinder you from your good
purpose,
seeking always opportunity when and what
time you may retire and there
take
privy silence for contemplation
and flee from the perils and
turbulance
of this harmful world. Always it
belongs to you first to study to
have cleanness of heart, that is to say
that you keep your sensory
perceptions
turned into yourself and there you have as much as is
possible the doors of your heart
busily closed from the
[Fol. 136]
forms
of
outward
things and
images
of earthly things. Truly
among all other spiritual
exercises
cleanness of heart has the sovereignty,
as a final intent and reward of
all the travails that a chosen knight of Christ is to receive.
Also you must lessen your
affections
from all your business about all the things that might
hinder your freedom from such a
thing that in any manner has might and power to bind and
draw down your affection to it.
As it is written in Moses' Law, 'Remain
living
in your own
dwelling and do not go out your
door on the day of the Sabbath. Every man
shall
live by himself and
no man go out through the door
of his house upon the Sabbath day'. This
is
as much as to say
that for a man to dwell with
himself
is to gather all the various
thoughts and affections of his
heart and have them knit together into
one true and sovereign good, that
is God. And to keep the Sabbath is
to have your heart free and
unburdened
from all fleshly affections that might
defoul the soul and from all
worldly
cares and business that might distress
it and so rest sweetly in peace
of heart as in the haven of silence and
the love and feeling of his
Creator
God. Above all other things, let
this be your principal intent and
business, that you always have your soul
and your mind lifted up to
contemplation
of heavenly things, so that
frail earthly things be left, to
be continually drawn up to
the things that are above and
what
thing so ever it be that is different
from this, though it seem great
in itself as chastising of the body, fasting,
vigils, and such like exercises
of virtue, they shall be taken
and considered as secondary and
less worthy and only so much expedient
and profitable as they profit and
help to cleanness of heart. And there
fore it is that so few go on to
perfection for they waste their time and their
strength in mean things that are
not greatly profitable and the due
remedies they leave and discard.
But if you desire to know the
right way to fulfil your intent
you shall sovereignly desire
to continual cleanness of heart
and rest of spirit and tranquillity and
to have your heart lastingly
lifted
up to God.
Disciple: Who is he who in this
mortal body may always be knit to
that spiritual contemplation?
Wisdom:
There
may
be no deadly
manner
always fasten and
set into this contemplation but
from this cause, as said earlier,
that you may know. Where you
shall
fasten and solemnly set the
intention of the spirit and to
what mark you shall always draw
the beholding of your soul when
at that time the mind may
get them he will be glad and when
he is distracted and drawn
away then he is sorry and sighs
often as he feels himself
separated from that beholding.
But if by chance you will ever turn against
me and say that you may not long
abide and dwell in one's man's state
you shall know and understand
that
the power of God may do
and work more than any man may
think. Therefore it falls
often that that thing that a man
binds him to at the beginning
with a manner of violence and
difficulty,
afterwards he shall
[Fol. 136v]
P. Odo Lang O.S.B., Librarian,
Einsiedeln Abbey, which owns major Suso manuscript, Cod. 710 (322),
also major Mechtild von Magdebourg
manuscript
Jan van Ruusbroec (†1381) The Amherst Manuscript
also translates Jan van Ruusbroec's Sparkling
Stone into Middle English:
here may no man entere the sayde
exercyse be cunnynge
ffor
contemplatyfe
lyfe may nought be taught oone be anothere
bot
where
as god whiche es verrey trowthe manyfestys hym
selfe
in
spirit. ther all necessaries moste plentevously are lerned
and
that
is that the spirit says in the Apochalips vincenti
says
he
schalle gyffe hym a litil white stone and in it a newe
name
the
whiche no man knowes but who that takys it. This
litel
stone
promysed to a victorious man it is called. Calcalus.
for
the
litelnes ther of. ffor yyf alle a man trede it with his fete
yit
he
is not hurte th er with. This stone it is red with a schyny
nge
witness
to the lykenesse of a flawme of fyre. litylle and
rownde
and
be the serkle ther of it is playne and smothe. Be this
litel
stone
we vndyrstande oure lorde ihesu cryste. whyche by
his
dyuynyte
is the whitnesse of euer lastande lyght and the
schynere
of
the ioye of god. Also the myrroure withoute spotte
in
the
whiche alle thynge hase lyfe. Whosumeuere therefore
[A118]
St Birgitta of Sweden (†1373)

Bishop Hemming and St
Birgitta,
Diptych, Finland
Latin
This is what she wrote in a vision about and to King Magnus. In it she sees a lectern and a book. 'For the appearance of the lectern was as if it had been a sunbeam [of red, gold, white]. . . . And when I looked upwards, I might not comprehend the length and breadth of the lectern; and looking downward, I might not see nor comprehend the greatness nor the deepness of it . . . After this I see a Book on the same lectern, shining like most bright gold. Which Book, and its Scripture, was not written with ink, but each word in the book was alive and spoke itself, as if a man should say, do this or that, and soon it was done with speaking of the Word. No man read the Scripture of that Book, but whatever that Scripture contained, all was seen on the lectern. Before this lectern I see a king . . . The said king sat crowned as if it had been a vessel of glass closed about . . .'
She continues to describe how the king's glass globe is protected by an angel but threatened by a demon . . . 'This living king appears to you as if in as it were a vessel of glass, for his life is but as it were frail glass and suddenly to be ended'. She continues by speaking of how this king knowingly sins but that if he repents he can be saved by the angel from the fiend. Beside him is a dead king above whom is writing describing his lust, his pride, his avarice. . . but the writing is blankly gone from the part that should have proclaimed his love of God.
'Then the Word speaks from the lectern, saying "[What you see is the Godhead's self. That you cannot understand the length, breadth, depth and height of the lectern means that in God is not found either beginning or end. For God is and was without beginning, and shall be without end "]. Also the Word spoke to me and said "[The Book that you see on the lectern means that in the Godhead is endless justice and wisdom, to which nothing may be added or lessened. And this is the Book of Life, that is not written as the world's writing, that is and was not, but the scripture of this Book is forever. For in the Godhead is endless being and understanding of all things, present, past and to come, without any variation or changing. And nothing is invisible to it, for it sees all things "]. That the Word spoke itself means that God is the endless Word, from whom are all words, and in whom things have life and being. And this same Word spoke then visibly when the Word was made man and was conversant among men'. She adds to the King that she is giving him the Word's words, adding that 'few receive and believe the heavenly words given from God, which is not God's fault, but man's'.
Later, she writes 'I saw an altar and a chalice with wine and water and bread and I saw how in a church of the world a priest began the mass, arrayed in a priest's vestments. And when he had done all that belonged to the Mass, I saw as if the sun and moon and the stars with all the other planets, and all the heavens with their courses and moving spheres, sounded with the sweetest note and with sundry voices.'

St John writing the Apocalypse, Hans Memling, St John's Hospital, Bruges
In another vision, at the end of her life, in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, she sees the judgement of her wicked son Charles where her prayers and her tears for Charles cause the devil to have amnesia concerning her son's sins. First the book in which the fiend has written them down suddenly has blank pages instead of writing, then the sack in which he has placed them is empty when turned inside out, then the devil himself forgets them totally from his memory and goes wailing off to Hell, cursing Birgitta.
Much of Birgitta's visionary imagery comes from law courts, for her father was the King of Sweden's law man and her husband was likewise a law man. She both prophesied and wrote following the Black Death of 1348 when Doomsday, Judgment Day, seemed particularly near. She told King Magnus that the Black Death would happen, then left for Italy, Sweden being too dangerous for her. Birgitta set up her household in Rome, living in prayer and constantly receiving visions, having male secretaries assist her, one of them a Spanish Bishop, Alfonso of Jaén. In the last year of her life she journeyed to the Holy Land, preaching on her journey in Naples and Cyprus, prophesying the 1452 Fall of Constantinople. Her massive book of the Revelationes, which is really Julian's title of 'Showings', was copied out in illuminated manuscripts, then in print, and treasured throughout Europe.
At
her
death
in 1373 Alfonso of
Jaén,
Queen Joanna of Naples, Queen Margaret of Sweden, the Emperor Charles
of
Bohemia, and Cardinal Adam Easton
of England, a Benedictine from Julian's Norwich, all sought Birgitta's
canonization as a saint.
ope
Gregory XI sent Alfonso of Jaén to Catherine
of Siena at Birgitta of Sweden's death. At that point Catherine,
who
had previously been illiterate, proceeded to write important letters to
Popes and Emperors, Kings and Queens and even to the condottiere Sir
John
Hawkwood, on the need for peace. We do not think of her as part of the
Dominican-inspired Friends of God movement across Europe but this act
clearly
places her in that context. Pope Urban VI wanted her to have Birgitta's
daughter, Catherine of Sweden, accompany her to carry out diplomacy on
his behalf with Queen Joanna of Naples.
Catherine had been the twenty-fourth child of a Sienese dyer. Everyone had wanted her to marry but she refused, having made a vow of chastity, and instead sought to enter the Dominican Third Order, which only admitted women who were widows. She won. As a Dominican Tertiary she cared for the sick and dying, including criminals condemned to death in Siena. She was surrounded by disciples, one of them an English hermit, William Flete, whose work, The Remedies Against Temptations, Julian quotes and uses in the Showing of Love, another a lawyer Cristofano Di Ganno, who later translated Birgitta's Revelations into exquisite Italian, another a painter, Andrea Vanni, whose delicate portrait of her survives, indeed in the very place of her major visions in San Domenico, Siena.

Andrea Vanni, St Catherine of Siena, San Domenico, Siena

And here foloweth the fyrst/ chapytre of this boke. Which/ is how the soule of this mayde/ was oned to god & how then she/ made .iiii. petycyons to oure/ lorde in that tyme of contem/placyon and of the answere/ of god and of moche other do/ctryne: as it is specyfyed in the/ kalender before. Capt.1.
A soule that is reysed up/ with heuenly and/ ghostly desyers & af-/feccyo ns to the worshyp/ of god & to the helthe/ of mannes soules with a greate . . .
________
The Orcherd of Syon (Westminster: Wynken de Worde, 1519), Catherine of Siena's Dialogo in Middle English, its colophon: 'a ryghte worshypfull and deuoute gentylman mayster Rycharde Sutton esquyer stewarde of the holy monastery of Syon fyndynge this ghostely tresure these dyologes and reuelacions . . . of seynt Katheryne of Sene in a corner by itselfe wyllynge of his greate charyte it sholde come to lyghte that many relygyous and deuoute soules myght be releued and haue comforte therby he hathe caused at his greate coste this booke to be prynted'./
Her confessor and biographer was Raymond of Capua who became head of the Dominican Order. Pope Urban VI leaned heavily upon her for his own survival. Severely anorexic, she died at the age of thirty-three, collapsing under the weight, she said, of the Church.
The
contemplative world is the world of prayer. When Julian would have been
enclosed in her Anchorhold one of the prayers said was a
later, abbreviated version of the following:
II.
Medieval
Irish and English Contemplatives
I
arise
today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendour of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.
'The
Dream of the Rood' (VIII century)

The Ruthwell Cross, Scotland
The Anglo-Saxon Ruthwell Cross, reflecting Constantine and Oswald's crosses, allows those who see and read it to contemplate in turn each place concerning the life of Christ, Nazareth, the Egyptian Wilderness, the Jordan Wilderness, Galilee, and Jerusalem, culminating with the Crucifixion. It is a map of the Holy Places that pilgrims may read. The runes of the 'Dream of the Rood' inscribed about their edges, their margins, describe the writer, likely Cædmon, dreaming of the Cross speaking to him, narrating of the wood and blood and of the sacred burden it had once borne; then, in Cynewulf's longer version, of its being turned into the sacred reliquary bedecked by the Emperor Constantine with gold and rubies at Constantinople. Jerome, whose works were read at Whitby, had practiced contemplating upon the Crucifix, becoming himself as naked as the naked Christ, in his 'imitatio Christi'. So here does Cædmon, if he is its author, in his contemplation meet with the blood-stained wood of the Roman gallows (Anglo-Saxon 'galgu') erected once to hang Jesus, the Christ, the King of the Jews. So does Cædmon's poem, and its Cynewulfian revision, today have us converse as pilgrim visionaries with the ignoble gallows and imperial reliquary of God.
The poem is shaped
in two
forms,
both used in Anglo-Saxon Riddles. It begins with the dreamer saying 'I
saw', then has the inanimate object speak, telling its observers, its
poet
and its readers, 'I am'. There are such Anglo-Saxon Riddles spoken by
'Book',
by 'Cross', etc. In a sense it, too, is the mocking titulus
placed
above the Cross, 'Jesus, King of the Jews'.
The longer version is given
from
the manuscript left by an Anglo-Saxon pilgrim in Vercelli, Italy, the
rubricated
lines being those given in the runes on the Ruthwell Cross.


Anglo-Saxon
ear, while I tell of the best of dreams . which came to me at midnight
when humankind kept their beds.
It seemed that I saw the Tree itself . borne on the air, light wound round it,
brightest of beams, all that beacon was . covered with gold, gems stood
fair at its foot, and five rubies . set in a crux flashed
from the crosstree. Around angels of God . all gazed upon it,
since first fashioning fair . It was not a felon's gallows,
for holy ones beheld it there . and men, and the whole Making shone for it
Trophy of Victory . I, stained and marred,
stricken with shame, saw the glory-tree . shine out gaily, sheathed in
decorous gold; and gemstones made . for their Maker's Tree a right mail-coat
Yet through the masking gold I might perceive .
what terrible sufferings were there
It bled from the right side . Ruth in the heart
Afraid I saw that unstill brightness . change raiment and colour,
again clad in gold or again slicked with sweat . spangled with spilling blood.
I, lying there a long while . beheld, sorrowing, the Healer's Tree
till it seemed that I heard how it broke silence, best of wood, and spoke:
'It was long ago-I still remember . back to the holt where I was hewn down;
From my own stock I was struck away . dragged off by strong enemies
wrought into a roadside scaffold . They made me a hoist from wrongdoers.
The soldiers on their shoulders bore me . until on a hill-top they raised me
many enemies made me fast there . Then I saw, marching toward me,
Mankind's brave King . He came to climb upon me. I dared not break nor bend aside . against God's will, though the ground itself
shook at my feet. Then the young warrior, Almighty God, mounted the Cross, in the sight of many. He would set free mankind.
I shook when his arms embraced me, but I durst not bow to ground,
stoop to Earth's surface . Stand fast I must.
I was reared up, a rood . I held the King, Heaven's lord, I dared not bow . They drove me through with dark nails: on me are the wounds
Wide-mouthed hate dents. I durst not harm any of them.
They mocked us together . I was all wet with blood sprung from the Man's side . after he sent forth his soul. Many wry wierds I underwent . up on that hilltop; saw the Lord of Hosts stretched out stark . Darkness shrouded the King's corpse.
A shade went out wan under cloud pall . All creation wept,
keened the King's death . Christ was on the Cross.
But there quickly came from afar . many to the Prince .
All that I beheld had grown weak with grief . yet with glad will bent then
meek to those men's hands . yielded Almighty God.
They lifted Him down from the leaden pain . left me, the commanders
Standing in blood sweat . I was sorely smitten with sorrow
wounded with shafts . Limb-weary they laid him down.
They stood at his head . They looked on him there .
They set to contrive Him a tomb . within sight of his bane
carved it of bright stone . laid in it the Bringer of Victory
spent from the great struggle . They began to speak the grief song,
sad in the sinking light . then thought to set out homeward;
their most high Prince . they left to rest with scant retinue.
Yet we three, weeping, a good while . stood in that place after the song
had gone up from the captains' throats . Cold grew the corpse, fair soul house.
They felled us all . We crashed to ground, cruel Wierd,
and they delved for us a grave . The Lord's men learnt of it, His friends found me.
It was they who girt me with silver and gold. . .


B.
Christina
of Markyate, Richard Rolle, John Whiterig, William Flete,
Walter Hilton, the Cloud of Unknowing
Author, Julian of Norwich, Margery Kempe Christina
of Markyate (†circa 1155) A manuscript now in
the
British
Library, MS Cotton Tiberius E.1, its edges charred in the Cotton
Library
fire in 1731, tells us in Latin the story of a remarkable young woman
of
the twelfth century, Theodora, who came to be named Christina,
Anchoress,
then Prioress, of Markyate. The account breaks off in the
year
1142, but we know she was still living, 1155-6. The very fine St Albans
Psalter, together with the Vita St Alexis, is also associated
with
Christina of Markyate, making its way sometime after the Dissolution of
the Monasteries to the English Benedictine monks at Lambspring (whose
Abbot
was to fund the publication of the first edition of Julian of Norwich's
Revelations),
following that, to St Godeharskirche at Hildesheim.
She tells Roger of her vision of Christ giving her his Cross to hold and Roger speaks amidst the Latin in Old English:
That decision is
preceded by a
vision,
one that looks back to Gregory's Dialogues on Benedict and
forward
to Julian of Norwich and Catherine of Siena. In the Dialogue following
that concerning Scholastica and Benedict in loving discourse upon
heavenly
matters all night, Benedict is seen one night in prayer, and at the
same
instant the whole world to shrink as into one beam of light. Here
Christina
sees the Queen of Heaven and all the angels.
Latin
'Thy body, sweet Jesus, is like a book all written with red ink; so is thy body all written with red wounds . . . grant me to read upon thy book, and somewhat to understand the sweetness of that writing and to have liking in studious abiding of that reading'
'More
yit,
swet
Jhesu, thy
body
is lyke a boke written al with rede ynke; so is thy body al written with rede
woundes. Now, swete Jhesu, graunt me to
rede upon thy boke, and somwhate to
undrestond
the swetnes of that writynge, and to have likynge in studious abydynge
of that redynge. And yeve me grace to conceyve somwhate of the perles
love
of Jhesu Crist, and to lerne by that ensample to love God agaynwarde as
I shold. And, swete Jhesu, graunt me this study in euche tyde of the
day,
and let me upon this boke study at my matyns and hours and evynsonge
and
complyne, and evyre to be my meditacion, my speche, and my dalyaunce.'
here
are strong similarities between the contemplations of an
Oxford-educated
Benedictine, likely named John Whiterig, who had become a hermit on to
the Island of Farne, 1363, dying there in 1371, and Julian of Norwich's
Showing
of Love. When a student at Durham College (for he mentions being
saved
from drowning in Oxford's Cherwell River), he would have overlapped
with
Adam Easton, a student at Gloucester College, both colleges established
for educating young Benedictines at Oxford. The Durham Benedictines
first
settled at Wearmouth and Jarrow in memory of St Benet Biscop and St
Bede,
then were invited in 1083 to Durham where they served at the shrine of
St Cuthbert, who had died on Farne in 687. St Godric visited St
Cuthbert's
cell on Farne before becoming himself a hermit at Finchale (1065-1170).
Lindisfarne, at some distance from the island of Farne, also continued
as a monastic site until the Reformation, though like Whitby with gaps
following Viking arrivals. Durham typically kept two monks on Farne,
where
they supported themselves by fishing and lived intense lives of prayer.

The Ruins of Lindisfarne
In the following, the Latin text derives from 'The Meditations of the Monk of Farne', ed. David Hugh Farmer, OSB, Studia Anselmiana 41 (1957), 141-245; the English translation from Christ Crucified and Other Meditations, ed. David Hugh Farmer, Trans. Dame Frideswide Sandemen, OSB (Leominster: Gracewing, 1994). The complete paperback book is available: UK, ISBN 0 85244 266 1; USA, ISBN 0 87061 202 6. Dame Frideswide Sandeman well represents the continuing tradition of Julian's association amongst contemplatives, for she is a Benedictine at Stanbrook Abbey, which was founded from Cambrai, where exiled English nuns, including several descendants of St Thomas More , under the guidance of Dom Augustine Baker , OSB, had studied, copied and contemplated upon such texts, including Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love, eventually preparing it for publication in 1670, with Dom Serenus Cressy, OSB, as ostensible editor. Benedictinism is about Eternity, more than time, a contemplative choral dialogue of men and women across centuries. P. Franklin Chambers drew attention to the similarities between the two contemplative writers, John Whiterig and Julian of Norwich, in his Juliana of Norwich: An Introductory Appreciation and an Interpretative Anthology (London: Gollancz, 1955). The manuscript transcribed is Durham B.iv.34, fols. 5v-75, and which is the only extant manuscript with this text.
David Hugh Farmer mentions the self-identification of the Hermit of Farne with St John the Evangelist on the Isle of Patmos, to whom he addresses a 'Meditacio Eiusdem ad Beatum Iohannem Ewangelistam'.

Hans Memling, 'St John Writing
Revelation,'
St John's Museum, Bruges
Reproduced with permission,
Memlingmuseum,
Stedelijke Musea, Brugge, Belgium
John Whiterig, while Hermit on Farne, also began to write a poem in praise of St Cuthbert, perhaps dying before it could be finished.
Parallel passages in
Julian of
Norwich's
Showing
of Love will be added more completely at a later date, noted here
with
'Julian '. My
profound thanks to Catherina
Lindgren, Sweden, and to Iain Bruce, Oxford, for making these texts
available.
The passages that follow can be read by both contemplatives and
scholars,
and perhaps contemplatives and scholars could even change places with
each
other to the profit of both modes of thought and of being.
AD CRUCIFIXSUM
MEDITACIONES CUIUSDAM MONACHI
APUD
FARNELAND QUONDAM SOLITARII
tudy
then,
mortal,
to know Christ: to learn your Saviour. His body hanging on the cross,
is
a book, opened before your eyes. The words of this book are Christ's
actions.
as well as his suffering and passion, for everything that he did serves
for our instruction. His wounds are the letters or characters, the
five
chief wounds being the five vowels and the others the consonants of
your
book . . .However much else you may know, if you do not know this, I count all your learning for naught, because without knowledge of this book, both general and particular, it is impossible for you to be saved. So eat this book which in your mouth and understanding shall be sweet, but which will make your belly bitter, that is to say your memory, because he that increases knowledge increases sorrow too.
May this book never depart from my hands, O Lord, but let the law of the Lord be ever in my mouth, that I may know what is acceptable in thy sight.
isce
ergo homo
Christum,
cognosce Saluatorem tuum, corpus etenim eius pendens in cruce uolumen
expansum
est coram oculis tuis; uerba uolumina huius sunt actus Christi, dolores
et passiones eius. Omnis enim Christi accio nostra est instruccio,
litere
seu carateres uoluminis huius vulnera eius sunt, quorum quinque plage
quinque
sunt uocales, cetere uero consonantes libri tui . . .
Quidquid scis, si hoc nescis, nichil reputo quod scis; quia sine sciencia huius libri uniuersali uel particulari inpossibile est te saluari. Comede ergo uolumen hoc, quod dulce erit in ore tuo et intelectu, sed amaricabit uentrem tuum, id est memoriam, quia qui addit scienciam addit et dolorem . . .
Non recedat, Domine, liber uoluminis huius de manibus meis, sed ut lex Domini iugiter sit in ore meo, ut sciam quid acceptum sit in oculis tuis.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 53, fols. 29v-30
__________
'Thy body, sweet Jesus, is like a book all written with red ink; so is thy body all written with red wounds . . . grant me to read upon thy book, and somewhat to understand the sweetness of that writing and to have liking in studious abiding of that reading'
'More yit, swet Jhesu, thy body is lyke a boke written al with rede ynke; so is thy body al written with rede woundes. Now, swete Jhesu, graunt me to rede upon thy boke, and somwhate to undrestond the swetnes of that writynge, and to have likynge in studious abydynge of that redynge. And yeve me grace to conceyve somwhate of the perles love of Jhesu Crist, and to lerne by that ensample to love God agaynwarde as I shold. And, swete Jhesu, graunt me this study in euche tyde of the day, and let me upon this boke study at my matyns and hours and evynsonge and complyne, and evyre to be my meditacion, my speche, and my dalyaunce.'
Richard
Rolle,
Meditations
on the Passion
Vowels are the soul, consonants the bones and flesh of words.
Spinoza
on
Hebrew
On Jesus shadowed in Isaac:
Thou art Isaac, who didst make laughter for us by offering thyself to God in sacrifice upon a mount called Calvary. Thou art the ram, caught by the horns amidst the briers, and sacrificed in place of the son; for that which thou hadst assumed succumbed to death, but thou who didst assume it couldst not succumb. And yet thou art not two but one; according to thy human nature thou didst die and wast buried, according to thy divinity thou didst remain unhurt. And thus, O good Jesus, thou didst make laughter for us amidst tears and music for us in thine own lament.

Fourteenth-Century Icelandic Manuscript, Bible in Icelandic, Abraham sacrificing Abraham, stopped by angel grabbing his sword, ram caught by horns in thicket. Árni Magnússon Institute, Reykjavik, Iceland.
u
es Isaac,
qui
risum nobis fecisti, quando te ipsum tradidisti sacrificium Deo super
unum
moncium qui Calvarie dicitur. Tu es ille aries inter uepres herens
cornibus,
qui pro filio immolatur: quia quod assumpsisti morti succubuit, sed qui
assumpsisti morti succumbere non potuisti; et non duo tamen sed unus,
qui
secundum humanum naturam mortuus es et sepultus, et secundum Diuinam
mansisti
illesus. Risum igitur, bone Ihesu, nobis in lacrimis suscitasti, et
musicam
in luctu tuo.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 2, fol. 7
Julian
on
Christ
and laughter
On Jesus shadowed in Jacob
Thou hast beguiled the devil, through whose envy death entered into the world; and this thou didst do so wisely and fittingly, that life rose up from thence whence death had sprung, and he, who by a tree had gained his victory, was likewise by a tree overcome.
. . . delusisti diabolo, cuius inuidia more introiuit in orbem terrarum: et tam prudenter hoc fecisti et conuenienter, ut unde mors oriebatur inde uita resurgeret, et qui in ligno uicerat per lignum quoque uinceretur.
John
Whiterig,
Meditacio
ad Crucifixum, Chapter 3, fol. 7
On Jesus shadowed in Joseph
Thou shalt no longer be called Jacob, Lord, but Joseph shall be thy name, which is interpreted 'increase' or 'joining'. Either meaning is more fitting, because thou hast increased thy people exceedingly, and thou wast thyself joined to us, when the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, that that man could in very truth say unto thee: 'This is now bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh'.
on
vocaberis
ultra
Domine Iacob, sed Ioseph erit nomen tuum, quod augmentum siue apposicio
interpretatur; qui utraque nominis interpretacio optime tibi conuenit,
siue quia auxisti populum tuum uehementer, siue quia appositus es nobis
quando Verbum caro factum est et habitauit in nobis, ita ut dicere
ueraciter
poterit homo tibi: Hoc nunc os ex ossibus meis, et caro de carne mea.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 3, fol. 7v
Remember us then, O Lord, when it shall be well with thee, for thou art our brother and our flesh; suggest to the Father that he should fill the sacks of thy brethren - fill them, I mean, with that wheat which, once it had fallen into the ground and died, brought forth much fruit, and filled every living creature with blessing. Thou who knowest no ill-will towards thy brethren, grant us our measure of wheat. For we have no other advocate who has been made unto us justice and sanctification, and whom the Father always hears for his reverence, but thee, good Lord, who art the propitiation for our sins. Remember then, O Lord, when thou standest in the sight of God, to speak well on our behalf. Ask thy Father to give me that wheat which with desire I have desired to eat before I die.
emento
nostri
ergo,
Domine,
dum
bene tibi fuerit, quia caro et frater noster es, ut
suggeras
Patri two quatinus impleantur sacci fratrum tuorum illo dico frumento,
quod dum semel cadens in terra mortuum fuit, multum fructum attulit et
omne animal benediccione repleuit. Qui igitur nescis inuidere fratribus
illius, tritici mensuram impertire nobis. Non enim alium habemus
Aduocatum,
qui nobis factus est iusticia et sanctificacio, quem semper audit Pater
propter suam reuerenciam, quam te, bone Domine; et tu propiciacio es
pro
peccatis nostris. Recordare ergo, Domine, dum steteris in conspectu
Dei,
ut loquaris pro nobis bonum. Postula Patrem tuum ut michi donet
triticum,
quod desiderio desideraui manducare antequam morior.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 4, fol. 8
Julian
on
Christ
as our brother
I wish for no other wheat but thee: give me thyself, and the rest take for thyself. For what have I in heaven, and what have I desired more than thee on earth? Whatever there is besides thee does not satisfy me without thee, nor hast thou any gift to bestow which I desire so much as thee. If therefore thou hast a mind to satisfy my desire with good things, give me nought but thyself. For my desire would not be pleasing in thy sight, if I longed for something other than thee more than thee.
liud
nolo
triticum
nisi temetipsum: da michi ergo teipsum, et cetere tolle tibi. Quid enim
michi est in celo, et quid plus quam te optaui super terram? Certe
quicquid
est preter te non michi sufficit preter te, nec est munus apud te quod
tantum desidero sicut te. Si ergo uelis replere in bonis desiderium
meum,
nichil aliud michi des nisi temetipsum. Non enim coram te cupiditas mea
placeret si aliquid aliud, quod tu non es, plus quam te optaret.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 5, fol. 8

od
for your
goodness
give to me yourself. For you are enough to me. And I may ask nothing
that
is less, that may be full worthy of you. And if I ask anything that is
less, ever I shall want, but only in you I have all. And these words
'God
of your goodness' are very lovely to the soul and very close to
touching
our Lord's will. For his goodness comprehends all . . .
Julian
of
Norwich,
Prayer, Showing
of Love, Westminster Manuscript
On Jesus Shadowed in Moses
Thou art the brazen serpent hung upon the gibbet, a remedy to all believers against the bites of the devil. Thou art the lonely sparrow upon a house-top, and thou hast found a nest for thyself which is the Virgin's womb. Thou art the scapegoat, and hast carried our sins into the wilderness of eternal oblivion, so that as far as the east is from the west, so far should our iniquities be from us. Thou art the lamb of God who takest away the sins of the world . . .
u
es ille
serpens
eneus suspensus in patibulo, in quem credentes curantur omnes a
morsu
diabolico. Tu es enim ille passer in tecto solitarius, et nidum tibi
inuenisti,
qui Virginis est uterus. Tu es hircus emissarius, qui peccata nostra
tulisti
in desertum obliuionis perpetue, ut quantum distat ortus ab Occidente
longe
fierent a nobis iniquitates nostre. Tu es agnus Dei qui tollis peccata
mundi . . .
John
Whiterig,
Meditacio
ad Crucifixum, Chapter 6, fol. 8v
. . . all things work together for good; not only good works, but even sins. For example, one of the elect who is somwhat elated on account of an outstanding virtue is tempted by the devil to impurity and allowed to fall, so that the memory of so shameful a sin may for the future preserve him from pride, and give him rather, what is safer, a fellow-feeling for the lowly.
. . . omnia cooperantur in bonum, hiis qui secundum propositum uocati sunt sancti, non tantum bona opera sed eciam peccata. Verbi gracia: aliquis electus a diabolo temptatur per luxuriam, qui ex aliqua uirtute qua forte pollet aliqualem habet elacionem, permittitur cadere, ut quam uile se meminerit flagicium perpetrasse: de cetero numquam habeat materiam superbie, immo, quod est tucius, humilibus consentire.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 9, fol. 10
Julian,
'All
Shall
Be Well'
On Jesus Shadowed in Jonathan
Let us by no means bring to naught in our city the likeness of those whom we have made to our own image and likeness, but rather let thy wisdom prevail over the malice into which they have falled through their proud self-love, desiring to become like gods, knowing good and evil. Let it reach from thee, the end, for thou are both beginning and end, unto the end of all creation, that is to say man, who was created last of all, and let it dispose all things sweetly.
uos
ad
ymaginem
et similitudinem nostram fecimus, eorum ymaginem in ciuitate nostra
nullo
modo ad nichilum redigamus; sed pocius uincat sapiencia tua maliciam
eorum,
in quam proprie superbiendo impegerunt, cupientes fore sicut dii,
scientes
bonum et malum. Attingat ergo a te fine, qui principium es et finis,
usque
ad finem tocius creature, hominem uidelicet qui ultimo creatus est, et
disponat omnia suauiter.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 11, fol. 11
Julian,
on
God
in the City of
the
Soul, on Wisdom
Thou art Christ, Son of the living God, who in obedience to the Father hast saved the world.
u
es Cristus
Filius
Dei uiui, qui precepto Patris mundum saluasti.

Despenser Retable, Norwich Castle, Contemporary with Julian
I see thee, O good Jesus, nailed to the cross, crowned with thorns, given gall to drink, pierced with the lance, and for my sake . . . upon the gibbet of the cross.
uideo te, Ihesu bone, cruci conclauatum, spinis coronatum, felle potatum, lancea perforatum, et omnibus membris super crucis patibulum propter me diuaricatum.
. . . being thyself most beautiful, for me thou hast desired to be accounted as a leper and the last of men;
. . . cum speciosus sis, ut leprosus et uirorum nouissimus pr me reputari uoluisti;
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 13, fols. 11v-12v
In thy head I perceive wondrous multiplicity of suffering, for in all thy five senses thou didst feel indescribable Pain. Thou didst see thyself crucified and hanging between thieves, thy friends deserting thee, thine enemies gathering round, thy mother weeping, and the corpses of condemned criminals strewn round about; whatever met thy gaze was a source of pain and sorrow, of horror and dismay.
n
capite tuo
admirabilem
penarum intueor multitudinem, quia per omnia organa quinque sensuum
inena
rrabilem sensisti dolorem. Te ipsum enim uidisti crucifixsum atque
pendentem
in medio latronum, amicos uidisti fugere, inimicos appropinquare,
matrem
uidisti flere, atque cadauera dampnatorum in circuitu iacere, et
quicquid
uisu traxisti pena fuit et dolor, tremor et horror.
Thou didst hear threats, murmuring, sarcasm and taunts from the bystanders; threats, when they cried out: 'Away with him, away with him; crucify him'; murmuring, when they said: 'He saved others, himself he cannot save', and some had said before that: 'He is good', while others said: 'No, he seduceth the multitude'. Sarcasm, when the soldiers, being their knees, greeted thee with: 'Hail, king of the Jews'; for sarcasm is a covert sort of mockery, when one is ironically called something by the scoffer, other than what he believes to be true. They believed him indeed to be a criminal rather than the king of the Jews, and yet they spoke the truth although with false intent. Thou didst hear taunts, when they said: 'Vah! Thou who dost destroy the Temple and in three days rebuild it!'
udisti
timorem
et
susurrium,
subsannacionem
et derisum ab hiis qui in circuitu stabant.
Timorem,
inquam, audisti quando dixerunt: Tolle, tolle, crucifige eum. Sussurium
audisti quando dixerunt: Alios saluos fecit, seipsum non potest saluum
facere, et ante quidam dixerunt quia bonus est, alii autem non, sed
seducit
turbas. Subsannacionem tunc audisti quando geniculantes dicebant Aue
rex
Iudeorum, quia subsannacio oculta est derisio, cum aliud uidelicet
aliquis
uocatur ironice quam a deridente fore creditur. Credebant enim eum
pocius
maleficum quam regem Iudaeorum, et tamen uerum dicebant quamuia
menciendo.
Audisti, Domine, derisum quando dicebant: Vah qui destruit templum et
in
tribus diebus reedificat.
Thou didst taste bitterness, O Lord, when they gave thee gall for thy food, and in thy thirst gave thee vinegar to drink. Thy nostrils, O Lord, breathed in the stench of the corrupting corpses of executed criminals lying round about. Thy sense of touch felt fierce pain in thy head, for the crown of thorns pierced it so grievously that thy blood flowed down in torrents through thy hair even to the ground. And so, good Lord, whatever thou didst look upon was terrible, whatever thou didst hear was horrible, whatever thou didst taste was bitter, whatever thou didst smell was putrid, and whatever thou didst touch was painful.
ustasti
Domine
amarum,
quando
in
escam tuam dederunt fel et in siti tua potauerunt te aceto.
Per
nares, domine, traxisti fetorem ex cadaueribus putridis morte
punitorum,
que in circuitu iacebant. Per tactum uero in capite sensisti
asperitatem,
quia corona spinarum in tantum pungebat capud tuum ut cruorem habunde
per
crines in terram currere faceret. Bone ergo Domine, quicquid uidisti
fuit
terribile, quicquid audisti fuit horribile, quicquid gustasti fuit
amarum,
quicquid odorasti fuerat fetidum, et quicquid tetigisti fuit ualde
asperum.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 14, fols. 12-12v
One thing, O good Jesus, I would know of thee; namely what reward will be bestowed on thee for all that thou hast suffered for us, since we have nothing that we have not received from thee. All gold is but as a grain of sand in thy sight, and silver would be accounted much in compensation for thy passion.
num a
te,
Ihesu
bone, scire uellem, qua uidelicet mercede donaberis pro hiis que passus
es pro nobis, cum nos nichil habeamus nisi quod a te accepimus. Omne
enim
aurum in conspectu tuo arena est exigua, et tamquam lutum estimabitur
argentum
in recompensacione tue passionis.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 15, fol. 12v
Julian
on
Passion
Speak, Lord, for thy servants listen, ready to receive the engrafted word which is able to save their souls. If thou desirest to know this plainly, call thy husband, that thou mayest understand aright. Let him who hath ears to hear, hear what Christ saith now to the churches.
oquere,
Domine,
quia
audiunt
serui tui, parati suscipere institum uerbum quod potest
saluare
animas eorum. Si hoc aperte scire desideras, uoca uirum tuum ut recte
inteligas.
Qui ergo habet aures audiendi, audiat quid modo ecclesiis Christus
dicat.
John
Whiterig,
Meditacio
ad Crucifixum, Chapter 16, fols.
13-13v
I know well, O Lord, that thou desirest my whole self when thou askest for my heart, and I seek thy whole self when I beg for thee.
cio
Domine,
scio,
totum me cupis cum cor meum petis, et totum te desidero cum te ipsum
postulo.
John Whiterig, Meditacio ad Crucifixum, Chapter 18, fols. 13v-14
Julian's Prayer
. . . even if he at times out of his goodness enters under our roof to abide with us. This he does especially according to that operation whereby he enables us to taste the first-fruits of the Spirit, by breaking for us a little of the bread which is himself, and saying: 'Taste and see that the Lord is sweet'.
. . . et si aliquando propter suam bonitatem intret sub tectum nostrum ut maneat nobiscum, secundum illam maxime operacionem qua nos facit probare de primiciis Spiritus frangens nobis modicum de pane seipso et dicens: Gustate et uidete quoniam suauis est Dominus.
Julian
Thou canst, O good Jesus, most clearly be recognized in the breaking of this bread, which no one else breaks as thou dost. For thou dost visit the soul with such joy, and fill it with such ineffable delight and indescribable love, that for one who loves such favours the enjoyment of so gracious a visit from such a guest, were it only for the space of a day, would surpass all physical love and a whole world full of riches. This is not surprising, since it is a sort of beginning of eternal joys, a sign of divine predestination and pledge of eternal salvation; it is a grace rendering us pleasing to God, and bestows on us a new name, which no one knows save he who receives it, and apart from the sons and daughters of God none can have a share in it.
iquidissime,
Ihesu
bone,
cognosci
poteris in fraccione panis, quem nemo alius sic frangit
sicut tu. Quam enim sic uisitas animam iubilo, et ineffabili uoluptate
ac inenarrabili reples amore, ut delicias amanti delectabilius foret
tanti
hospitis tam iocunda frui uisitacione, saltem per diei medium, super
omnem
amorem mulierum et totum orbem terrarum diuiciis repletum. Nec mirum
cum
sit de eternis gaudiis inicium aliquod, argumentum Diuine
predestinacionis,
et arra salutis perpetue, gratia gratum faciens et nomen nouum, quod
non
nouit quis nisi qui accipit, cui non communicat alienus a filiis Dei et
filiabus.
John
Whiterig,
Meditacio
ad Crucifixum, Chapter 20, fol. 14v
Catherine of Siena, The Orcherd of Syon (Dialogo), London: Wynken de Worde, 1519
ure merciful lord god
chastyseth hese childirn and suffereth hem to
ben tempted for many profytable skeles to here soule profi3te: and þerfore ther schulde non man
ne woman ben
hevy ne sory for no
temptacion. For Seint Jame the apostele thecheth vs þat we schulden haue
wery gret joy quan we ben tempted with diuers temptacions. For as the
goold is purged and pured be fier, and a knight in hard batail is
proued good but if he suffre hym self to ben ouere come, right so is a
man be temptacion preued for good but if he suffre hym self to ben
ouere
come, þat is to seye but if he
consente ther to
be deliberacion.
nd þerfore þer
schulde no man kare ne ben hevy þat he is
so
traueiled more þan
another. Sister, alwey quan I speke of man in þis
wrytinge, take it bothe for man and woman, for so it is ment in alle
such writinges, for al is mankende. And forthermore as touchynge 3oure
troubles, þenke 3e
in alle 3oure diseses qwat troubles and diseses
goddis seruantis have suffred, what peynes and quat tormentis þei
haue had here in erthe in many sondre maneris, and 3e schal fynden
cause to suffre. Leo þe pope
seith þat it
falleth somtime þat goode
and righteful soules ben sterd be þe fend,
and somtyme be sterynge of
complexion to angres, troubles, taryenges and diseses of dredes, þat
it semeth to hem her lif a torment, and here deth an ease, in so moche þat
somtyme for disese þei
begynnen to dispeire both of here lyf of
body and of here soule. And thei wenen þat þei ben
forsaken of god,
whiche asayeth and proveth his chosen frendes be temptacyons and
angres.
But these fondynges or vyolent temptynge and angwischis ben but
purgynges and preuynges of the soule, for as I sette and seyde at þe
begynnynge of þis
wrytynge, right as þe feir
purgeth gold, and a
knight also is preuyd good and hardy be bataile, right so temptacions
and trubles preueth and pureth þe
rightful man. This is preued wel be
Thobie, for the angel Raphael seide to Thobie thus: For as moche as þou were
righteful to god it was nedeful þat
temptacion schulde
preuen thi wil.
nd for as
myche as many men kunne not in tyme of temptacion ne woln
not see it, but ben sory and dredeful of complexion, þerfore
to alle
suche men thre thynges ben nedeful. The firste is þat thei
be not
myche alone. The secunde is þat thei þenke not
ne seche no þing
deeply, but fully reule hem, as I seyde afore, be som good discret
persone; and þou3 it
come in to here herte and mynde þat þei
schuld
be lore or in perell, þou3 þei wold
beholde here counsell, thei owen
to taken non heed to suyche þou3tis
and sterynges, ne charge hem. Take
thei non heed of suyche ymagynacions or sotyl conseytes, for it may
neuere turne hem to dampnacion, the counseil of wise men þat is
3ouen
to hem for here sauacion. God seyth in the gospel þat if þe
menynge
be good of a manis purpose, þe dede
is good. The thredde remedy is
this, þat for
as myche as the fend traueileth faste to make a man
dredful and sory, þanne þat he to
þe
worchip of god and in troust of
his helpe, and to schame and confusion of the fend and right in dispyct
of hym, þat he
strengthe hym self to be glad and mery, þou3 it
be
a3ens herte. And drede no þing the
fendis malice, for þe lasse
gladnesse that a man fyndeth in his herte, þe more
mede he is worthy,
so þat he
strengthe hym self to be glad and mery to the worchep of god
and dispitte of þe fend.
For holy writ seyth þat þe
aposteles 3eden
awey mery and glad quan the Jewes, goddis enemyes, hadden schamfully
beten hem.
lso þe feend
is ful besy to men and women of tendir conscyens, to
brynge in hem so myche errour þat thei wene þing that
is no synne or
parauenture is weel done semethe to hem synne, and of a venyal synne
maketh it to seme greuouse as dedly synne, and of þing of no charge
maketh it to seme as thou3 it were don in dipiste of god or of his
seyntis. And somme the enemy the fend tarieth so gretly þat what
euere thei doo or leue to do, thei ben so byten in conscyens þat þei
kan no whilte to gydir haue reste in hem self; and alle this the fend
doth þoru3 fals dreed and
blynd conscyens. But þe remedy of þis
temptacion and of all other is þat þei gouerne hem be here
confessour, or be some good discret persone, and rule hem fully aftir
hym, and not aftir here owne blynde mysruled consciens. For
suyche a man as is þus taryed, if he folwe
his owne conscyens, it were
a gret pryde þat he wolde holden his
owne wit betyr than the trewe
loore of holy cherche. Þerfore a
man þat wolde
don soo muste nedes
fallen in to gret errouris of þe feend
and in to his handys; and if
suyche an errour of conscyence made be the enemy seye on to 3ou þat
other men feele not þat þat 3e
feele, and þerfore
thei kunne not
deme ne 3eue 3ou good remedye þerto,
and þerfore
3e muste folwe 3oure
owne fantasyes, or ellis 3e þenken
that 3e schuln be lore, take 3e non
heed of this þou3t and
steryng, ne of no suyche fantasyes þat comen
in to 3oure herte, ne charge hem not. But putteth awey all suyche
errouris of consciens as faste as thei comen to mende; lete him lightly
go, and if ony seye þat þei may
not putten hem awey, thei seye not
right, for who so is in wil to do awey a fals conscience and errour, to
fore god it is alwey, þou3 þer leue
in hym neuere so many fals domes.
And therfore þou3 a
man haue neuere so many teryenges a3ens his wil in
his consciens, he dare not drede hym, for dredeles god schal euere
comforte hym or he deye; and þe lengere that he
suffereth suyche
taryengis, the more is he worthy in the syghte of god.
his squier þat I
haue named had ben a synful man, and soo at þe
laste þoru3 the
beholdynge of his synnes and be the feendes
temptacions, he feel in to dispeir, soo deeply and so greuously that he
had ny lost his mynde; and thus he was traueiled fourty dayes, þat he
myght neyther slepe ne ete, but wasted awey and was in poynt to spille
hym self. But good god, þat is
ful of pyte and mercy, wolde not haue
hym lore, and on a day, as he in ful grete sorwe walked in a wode
alone, an aungel came to hym in fourme of a man, and saluted the squier
ful goodly, and talked with hym. Þanne
seyde the aungel to hym: Þou
semest, seyde he, a man ful of heuynesse and sorwe. Telle me, I prey
the, what causeth thi disese. Nay seyde the squier, it is not the to
telle. 3is, seyde the aungel, þou wost
neuere how weel I may helpen
the and thi disese remeue. A man schulde, sayde þe
aungel, alwey in
discomfort and heuynesse discouere his hert to somme creature þat myght
ese hym, for þoru3
good counsel, he myght, seyde þe
aungel, recouere
bothe to comfort and to heele, or in sum wyse haue good remedy. Þe
squier answarde þe aungel
a3en, and seyde þat he
wiste weel that he
cowde not ne myght not helpe hym, and therfore he wolde no3te telle
hym. This squier wende alwey þat this
aungel hadde ben an erthely man,
and he dreede þat if he
had tolde hym, he wolde a3enward haue seyde
som word þat
schulde vtterly haue disesed hym; and quan the aungel si3 þat he
wolde be no weye tellen hym, he seyde to hym in this wyse: Now,
seide he, sethen þou wilt
not telle me thi greuaunce. I schal tellen
it the. Þou art,
seyde the aungel, in dispeir of thi sauacion, but
truste fully þou
schalt be saued, for the mercy of god is so gret þat
it passeth alle his werkes and surmounteþ all
synnes. It is sooth,
sayde the squier, I wot weel þat god
is mercyful, but he is rightful
also, and his rightwysnesse must nedys punysche synne, and therfore I
drede his rightwysnesse in iugementes. The aungel answered hym a3en,
and tolde hym many exaumples, how god ful graciously is mercyful to
synners: but this squier of whom I telle was soo deeply fallen in
heuynesse and in dreed that he kowde take no comfort of thing that
he seyde. Þanne
spake the aungel to hym and seyde: O, seyde he, quat þat þou art
hard of beleue; but wilt þou haue
an open schewynge þat þou
schalt be saued, seyde þe aungel to the squier. I haue here thre
dises þat I
wole throwe, and þou
schalt throwe, and who so hath most
on þe dises,
sekirly he schal be saued. A, seyde the squier, how myght
I in þrowynge
of dyses be in certeyn of my sauacion; and helde it but
a iape. The aungel þrewe the
dyses, and had on euery dee vpward syxe;
and he had þanne the
squier þrowe the
dyse. O, seyde he, certis þat dar I not, for I wot
wel, þou3 I
caste the dise, mo þanne þou hast
cast schulde I not haue and if I hadde lesse þan þou hast,
I schulde
vtterly falle in discomfort. But soo þe aungel
spak, þat at þe last
the squier threwe the disc, and in the þrowynge
be goddis myght euery
dee claf atweyne, and on eche dee was sixe, and so he hadde the double þat þe aungel
hadde. And as he merueiled vp on this, þe aungel
vanyschid oute of his syght. Þo wiste
he wel it was aungel sent of
god to brynge hym oute of his wo. And þanne he
cau3te so gret comfort
and ioye in þe mercy
of god, and in þe
goodnesse of his grace, þat
alle his sorwes and dredis wenten clene awey, and he becam þanne
goddis seruaunt, and was a blissed leuere, and quan he schulde departen
fro þis
world, he diuysed þat
whanne he was deed, þere
schulde be
leid up on hym a ston wreten with þese
wordes aboute þat
folwen: Here
lieth John Homeleis, þat of þe mercy
of god may seyn a largeis. I
knew a wurchipful persoone that was in the same abbey here in Ingelond
there as he lyeth, þat redde
up on hym the wordes aforn seyde.
3e
childern of holy cherche, þat haue
for saken the world for helthe
of youre soules, and principally to plesen god, comfort 3e in in hym
whom 3e haue chosen to loue and serue, for he wole ben to 3ou ful free
and large, as 3e may see be exaumple of Petir in the gospel, where þat
he asked oure lord Iesu what reward he schulde haue þat had forsaken alle þing
to folwe hym; and oure lord answered hym and seyde that he
schulde
iugen with hym þe twelue
tribis or kynredis of Israel at þe day of
jugement. And ferthermore oure lord seyde also to hym þat all,
not
only on or too or somme, but he seyde þat alle þo that
forsaken
for his loue kyn or frendes or possessiones, þat is to
seyn hous or
lond or ony other worldly good, þe schuln
hauen here in þis lyfe
an
hundirt fold mede and blisse with outen ende.Giovanni di Paolo, St Catherine Receiving Stigmata, Santa Cristina, Pisa, Metropolitan Museum of Art
From
the Scale of Perfection
Book II.21-23, transcription from British Library, Harley 6579, fols.
84-89, translation by John P.H. Clark:

' I. am no3t .I. haf
no3t. nou3t .I. aske
ne covete bot þe luf of ihu '
British
Library,
Harley 6579, fol. 88v.
21. An
introduction as to how a soul should behave in purpose and in practice
if it wants to come to this reforming, through the example of a pilgrim
going to Jerusalem; and the two kinds of humility.
evyrþeles
for þu coueteþ for to haue sm maw writynge by þe
whilke þu mi3tes þe gaþ nei3en to þt
reformynge & schal say þe as me þinkiþ bi
þe
grace of oure lord ihu þe shortest & þe rediest helpe
þat I knowe in þis wirkynge. And how þt schal be .I.
schal telle þe by exaumple of a good pilgrym vpon þis wise:
þer was a man þat wold gon to ierusalem & for he knewe
not þe weye he come to an oþ man þt he hopyt knewe
þe way & asked wheþer he mi3te come to þat cite
& þat oþ man seide to him þat he mi3te not come
þeder withoute grete disese & mikil trauale for þe wey
is longe & periles and grete . of þefes & robbers &
many oþer / [fol. 84v] lettynges þat ben þt fallen to
a
man wiþ goyng . & also þare mony saie weies . as it
semiþ ledand þederward . Bot men alday are slayn &
dispoiled & mown not comyn to þt place þt þei
covete. Neveþeles þer is .o. wey þe whilke whoso
takiþ hit & holdiþ it . he wolde undirtake . þy
he schude come to þe cite of ierusalem ne schulde now les his lif
ne be slayn . ne dye for defaute: ne schulde often be robbed
& yuel betyn . & suffren unkel disese in þe goyngr &
bot he schulde ay him his lif safe. þan saiþ þe
pilgrim if it be so þat I may have my lif safe & come to
þt place þt I coveite: .I. charge not what meschef .I.
suffre in þe goynge & þerfore say me what
þu wil & sothly .I. bihote for to don afor þe:
þt oþ answered & saye þus . lo .I. sait þe
in þe ri3t wey. þis is þe wey. & if þu kepe
þe lesyinge þt .I. kemis þe.
Nevertheless,
because
you
desire to have some kind of practice by which you could
approach that reforming more quickly, I shall tell you by the grace of
our Lord Jesus what seems to me the shortest and promptest aid that I
know in this work. And how that shall be I will tell you in this
manner, through the example of a good pilgrim.
There was a
man wanting to go to Jerusalem, and because he did not know the way he
came to another man who he thought knew it and asked whether he could
reach that city. The other man told him he could not get there without
great hardship and labour, for the way is long and the perils are
great, with thieves and robbers as well as many other difficulties to
beset a man on his journey; also there are many different ways seeming
to lead in that direction, yet people are being killed and robbed daily
and cannot come to the place they desire. However, there is one way,
and he would undertake that anyone who takes and keeps to it shall come
to the city of Jerusalem, and never lose his life or be slain or die of
want. He would often be robbed and badly beaten and suffer great
distress on his journey, but his life would always be safe. Then the
pilgrim said: 'If it is true that I can keep my life and come to the
place I desire, I do not care what trouble I suffer on the journey, and
therefore tell me what you will, and I promise faithfully to do as you
say'. The other man answered and said this: 'See, I am setting you on
the right road. This is the way, and be sure to keep the instructions I
give you'.
What so you
heres or sees or felis þt schulde lette þe in þi wey
abide not wiþ it wilfully: tary not for it restfully. behold it
not. like it not. drede it not. bot ay fo forþ in þi wey
& thinke þt þu wantes be at Jerusalem'. For
þt þu covetes þt þu desires. & no3t
elles bot þt. & if man robbe þe . & dispoile
þe bete þe scorne þe . & dispise þe: ferse
not agayn if þu wilt hav þi lif. Bot holde þe wt
þe harme þt þu has & go forþ . as no3t
were. þt þu take no more harms. And also if man wil tary
þe wiþ tales & fede þe wt lesynges. for to drawe
þe to mirþis & for to lese þi pilgrimage: make
def ere & answer not agayn & sey not elles bot þt
þu wuldes be at Jerusalem. And if men proffer þe 3iftes
& wil make þe riche wt werdly gode tente not to hem:
þinke ay on Jerusalem. And if þu wil holde þis wey
& ben as I hafe sayde: promise & take þi lif
þt þu schal not be slayn. bot þou schal come to
þt place þt þu/ [fol. 85] coveites:
'Whatever
you hear, see or feel that would hinder you on your way, do not
willingly stay with it, and do not tarry for it, taking rest; do not
look at it, do not take pleasure in it, and do not fear it; but always
go forth on your way and think that you want to be in Jerusalem. For
that is what you long for and what you desire, and nothing else but
that; and if men rob you, strip you, beat you, scorn you and despise
you, do not fight back if you want to have your life, but bear the hurt
that you have and go on as if it were nothing, lest you come to more
harm. In the same way, if men want to delay you with stories and feed
you with lies, trying to draw you to pleasures and make you leave your
pilgrimage, turn a deaf ear and do not reply, saying only that you want
to be in Jerusalem. And if men offer you gifts and seek to enrich you
with worldly goods, pay no attention to them, always think of
Jerusalem. And if you will keep on this way and do as I have said, I
promise you your life - that you shall not be slain but come to the
place that you desire'.
Softly to oure propositions. Jerusalem
is as mikel for to seyen as si3t of pes & bitokneþ
contemplacion in perfit luf of god. ffor contemplacion is not ellis bot
a si3t of ihu whilk is vrey pes. þan if þu coveit for to
com to þis blessednes of vrey pes & ben a traw pilgrym to
Jerusalemward: þaw3 it be so þt .I. wase neuer þare:
neverles as ferforth as .I. kan .I. schal setes þe in þe
waye þedward:
According to
our spiritual propositions, Jerusalem is as much as to say sight of peace and stands for
contemplation in perfect love of God, for contemplation is nothing
other than a sight of Jesus, who is true peace. Then if you long to
come to this blessed sight of true peace and to be a faithful pilgrim
toward Jerusalem - even though it should be that I was never there, yet
as far as I can - I shall set you in the way that leads toward it.
þe bygynynge of þe hi3e
wey in þe whilk þu schalt gon is reformyng in feiþ
& in þe lawes of holy kirke as .I. hafe saide beforn. for
trust sikirly þaw3 þu haue synned hard here bifore . if
þu be now reformed bi þe sacrament of penaunce after
þe lawe of hilikirke þt þu art in þe ri3t wais.
Now þan siþen þu in þe siker weye: if þu
wile spedyn in þi goyngs & make gode jurndres: þe
behoviþ to holden þese two þonges often in þi
mynde. meknes & luf. þt is '.I. am no3t . .I. have no3t .I.
coveit no3t. but on' þu sschalt hafe þe menynge of
þese woedes in þin entent & in habite of þi soule
lastendly: þaw3 þu hafe no3t specially þose wordes ay
formed in þi þou3tes: for þt nediþ not. meknes
seiþ .I. am no3t .I. hafe no3t. lufe saiþ .I. coveit n3t
bot on. & þt is ihu: þese two strenges wel festned wt
þe mynde of Jerusalem makiþ gode acorde in þe harpe
of þe soule. When þei be craftely touchid wt þe
fingres of resoun: for þe lower þu smytes up on þt in
þe hi3er sonniþ þt oþer: þe lesse
þu felist þt þu art or þt þu hast of
þi self þruw3 meknes: þe more þu coveites for
to hau of ihu in desire of luf: .I. mene not only of þt meknes
þt a soule feliþ in þe si3t of his own syn or holines
& wrecchednes of þis lif: or of þe worþines of
his euencristen: for þaw3 þis meknes be soþfast &
medicinable: norþeles it is twistous & fleschly as in
segnses./[fol. 85v] not clene ne softe ne lofli. So .I. mene also
þis meknes beynge þt þe soule feliþ þrw3
grace in si3t & beholdyng of þe endeles beynge & þe
wondeful godnes of ihu & if you mowe not seen it 3it wt þi
gostly i3e: þt þou trows it: ffor þrw3 si3t of his
beynge eiþer in ful feiþ or in felyng
þu schalt holden þi self not only as þe most wrecche
þt is. but also as no3t in substaunce of þi soule:
þaw3 þu hever don syn: And þt is lufly meknes: for
in of ihu þt is soþfatch al:
þu art ri3t no3t: And also þt þu þinke þt
þu hast ri3t no3t: So tht as a vessel þt standiþ ay come as no3t Were in
as of þi self: for doo þ
þat þu hast þe luf of ihu.
þu hast ri3t no3t. ffor wt þat precious licour only will
þi soule be fulfilled. & wt none oþer
The
beginning of the highway along which you shall go is reforming in
faith, grounded humbly in the faith and in the laws of holy church, as
I have said before, for trust assuredly that although you have formerly
sinned, you are on the right road, if you are now reformed by the
sacrament of penance according to the law of holy church. Now since you
are on the sure way, if you want to speed on your travels and make a
good journey each day, you should hold these two things often in your
mind - humility and love. That is: I
am nothing; I have nothing; I desire only one thing. You shall
have the meaning of these words continually in your intention, and in
the habit of your soul, even though you may not always have their
particular form in your thought, for that is not necessary. Humility
says, I am nothing; I have nothing. Love says, I desire only one thing,
and that is Jesus. These two strings, well-fastened with mindfulness of
Jesus, make good harmony on the harp of the soul when they are
skillfully touched with the finger of reason. For the lower you strike
upon the one, the higher sounds the other; the less you feel that you
are or that you have of yourself through humility, the more you long to
have of Jesus in the desire of love. I do not mean only that humility
that a soul feels as it looks at its own sin or at the frailties and
wretchedness of this life, or at the worthiness of his fellow
Christians, for although this humility is true and medicinal, it is
comparatively rough and carnal, not pure or soft or lovely. But I mean
also this humility that the soul feels though grace in seeing and
considering the infinite being and wonderful goodness of Jesus, and if
you cannot see it yet with your spiritual eye, that you believe in it,
for through the sight of his being - either in full faith or in feeling
- you shall regard yourself not only as the greatest wretch that there
is, but also as nothing in the substance of your soul, even if you had
never committed sin. And that is lovely humility, for in comparison
with Jesus who is in truth All, you are but nothing. In the same way
think that you have nothing, but are like a vessel that always stands
empty, as if with nothing in it of your own for however many good works
you do, outwardly or inwardly, you have nothing at all until you have -
and feel that you have - the love of Jesus. For your soul can be filled
only with that precious liquor, and with nothing else; and because that
thing alone is so precious and so valuable, regard anything you have
and do as nothing to rest in, without the sight and the love of Jesus.
Throw it all behind you and forget it, so that you can have what is
best of all.
Just as a
true pilgrim going to Jerusalem leaves behind him home and land, wife
and children, and makes himself poor and bare of all that he has in
order to travel light and without hindrance, so if you want to be a
spiritual pilgrim you are to make yourself naked of all that you have -
both good works and bad - and throw them all behind you, and thus
become so poor in your own feeling that there can be no deed of your
own that you want to lean upon for rst, but you are always desiring
more grace of love, and always seeking the spiritual presence of Jesus.
If you do so, you shall then set in your heart, wholly and fully, your
desre to be at Jerusalem, and in no other place but there; and that is,
you shall set in your heart, wholly and fully, your will to have
nothing but the love of Jesus and the spiritual sight of him, as far as
he wishes to show himself. It is for that alone you are made and
redeemed, and that is your beginning and your end, your joy and your
glory. Therefore, whatsoever you have, however rich you may be in other
works of body and spirit, unless you have that, and know and feel that
you have it, consider that you have nothing at all. Print this
statement well on the intention of your heart, and hold firmly to it,
and it will save you from all the perils of your journey, so that you
will never perish. It shall save you from thieves and robbers (which is
what I call unclean spirits), so that though they strip you and beat
you with diverse temptations, your life shall always be saved; and in
brief if you guard it as I shall tell you, you shall within a short
time escape all perils and distresses and come to the city of Jerusalem.
Now that you
are on the road and know the name of the place you are bound for, begin
to go forward on your journey. Your going forth is nothing else but the
work of the spirit - and of the body as well, when there is need for it
- which you are to use with discretion in the following way. Whatever
work it is that you should do, in body or in spirit, according to the
degree and state in which you stand, it if helps this grace-given
desire that you have to love Jesus, making it more whole, easier and
more powerful for all virtues and all goodness, that is the work I
consider the best, whether it be prayer, meditation, reading or
working; and as long as that taks most strenghtens your heart and your
working; and as long as that task most strengthens your heart and you
will for the love of Jesus and draws your affection and your thought
farthest from worldly vanities, it is good to use it. And if it happens
that the savour of it becomes less through use, and you feel that you
savour anothing kind of work more, and you feel more grace in another,
take another and leave that one. For though your desire and the
yearning of your heat for Jesus should always be unchangeable,
nevertheless the spiritual practices that you are to use in prayer or
the meditation to feed and nourish you desire may be diverse, and may
well be changed according to the way you feel disposed to appply your
own heart, through grace.
For it goes
with works and desire as it does with a fire and sticks. The more
sticks are laid on a fire, the greater is the flame, and so the more
varied the spiritual work that anyone has in mind for keeping his
desire whole, the more powerful and ardent shall be his desire for God.
Therefore notice carefully what work you best know how to do and what
most helps you to keep whole this desire for Jesus (if you are free,
and are not bound except under the common law), and do that. Do not
bind yourself unchangeably to practices of your own choosing that
hinder the freedom of your heart to love Jesus if grace should
specially visit you, for I shall tell you which customs are always good
and need to be kept. See, a particular custom is always good to keep if
it consists in getting virtue and hindering sin, and that practice
should never be left. For if you behave well, you will always be humble
and patient, sober and chaste; and so with all other virtues. But the
practice of any other thing that hinders a better work should be left
when it is time for one to do this; for instance in a certain way for a
particular length of time, or waking or kneeling for a certian time, or
doing other such bodily work, this practice is to be left off sometimes
when a reasonable cause hinders it, or else if more grace comes from
another quarter.
22. The
delays and temptations that souls shall feel from their spiritual
enemies on their spiritual journey to the heavenly Jerusalem, and some
remedies against them.
ow
Now you are
on the way and know how you shall go. Now beware of enemies that will
be trying to hinder you if they can, for their intention is to put out
of your heart that desire and that longing that you have for the love
of Jesus, and to drive you home again to the love of worldly vanity,
for there is nothing that grieves them so much. These enemies are
principally carnal desires and vain fears that rise out of your heart
through the corruption of your fleshly nature, and want to hinder you
desire for the love of God, so that they can fully occupy your heart
without disturbance. These are your nearest enemies. There are other
enemies too, such as unclean spirits that are busily trying to decieve
you with tricks and wiles. But you shall have one remedy, as I said
before: whatever it may be they say, do not believe them, but keep on
your way and desire only the love of Jesus. Always give this answer: I
am nothing, I have nothing, I desire nothing but the love of Jesus
alone. If your enemies speak to you first like this, by stirrings in
your heart, that you have not made a proper confession, or that there
is some old sin hidden in your heart that you do not know and never
confessed, and therefore you must turn home again, leave your desire
and go to make a better confession: do not believe this saying, for it
is false and you are absolved. Trust firmly that you are on the road,
and you need no more ransacking of your confession for what is past:
keep on your way and think of Jerusalem. Similarly, if they say that
you are not worthy to have the love of God, and ask what good it is to
crave something you cannot have and do not deserve, do not believe
them, but go forward, saying thus, 'Not because I am worthy, but
because I am unworthy - that is my motive for loving God, for if I had
that love, it would make me worthy; and since I was made for it, even
though I should never have it I will yet desire it, and therefore I
will pray and meditate in order to get it'. And then, if your enemies
see that you begin to grow bold and resolute in your work, they start
getting frightened of you; however, they will not stop hindering you
when they can as long as your are going on your way. What with fear and
menaces on the one hand and flattery and false blandishment on the
other, to make you break your purpose and turn home again, they will
speak like this: 'If you keep up your desire for Jesus, labouring as
hard as you have begun, you will fall into sickness or into fantasies
and frenzies, as you see some do, or you will fall into poverty and
come to bodily harm, and no one will want to help you; or you might
fall into secret temptations of the devil, in which you will not know
how to help yourself. It is very dangerous for any man to give himself
wholly to the love of God, to leave all the world and desire nothing
but his love alone; for so many perils may befall that one does not
know of. And therefore turn home again and leave this desire, for you
will never carry it through to the end, and behave as other people do
in the world'.
So say your
enemies; but do not believe them. Keep up your desire, and say nothing
else but that you want to have Jesus and to be in Jerusalem. And if
they then perceive your will to be so strong that you will not spare
yourself - for sin or for sickness, for fantasies or frenzy, for doubts
or fears of spiritual temptations, for poverty or distress, for life or
for death - but that you will is set ever onward, with one thing and
one alone, turning a deaf ear to them as if you did not hear them, and
keeping on stubbornly and unstintingly with your prayers and your other
spiritual works, and with discretion according to the counsel of your
superior or your spiritual father; then they begin to be angry and to
draw a little nearer to you. They start robbing you and beating you and
doing you all the injury they know: and that is when they cause all
your deeds - however well done - to be judged evil by others and turned
the worst way. And whatever you may want to do for the benefit of your
body and soul, it will be hampered and hindered by other men, in order
to thwart you in everything that you reasonably desire. All this they
do to stir you to anger, resentment or ill-will against your fellow
Christians.
But against
all these annoyances, and all others that may befall, use this remedy;
take Jesus in your mind, and do not be angry with them; do not linger
with them, but think of your lesson - that you are nothing, you have
nothing, you cannot lose any earthly goods, and you desire nothing but
the love of Jesus - and keep on your way to Jerusalem, with your
occupation. Nevertheless, if through your own frailty you are at some
time vexed with such troubles befalling your life in the body through
the ill-will of man or the malice of the devil, come to yourself again
as soon as you can; stop thinking of that distress and go forth to your
work. Do not stay too long with them, for fear of your enemies.
23. A
general remedy against wicked stirrings and painful vexations that
befall the heart from the world, the flesh and the devil.
nd aftir þis
Your enemies
will be much abashed, when they see you so well-disposed
that you are not annoyed, heavyhearted, wrathful, or greatly stirred
against any creature, for anything that they can do or say against you,
but that you fully set your heart upon bearing all that may happen -
ease and hardship, praise or blame - and that you will not
trouble about anything, provided you can keep whole your thought and
your desire for the love of God. But then they will try you with
flattery and vain blandishment, and that is when they bring to the
sight of your soul all your good deeds and virtues and impress upon
you that all men praise you and speak of your holiness; and how
everybody loves you and honors you for your holy living. Your enemies
do this to make you think that their talk is true, and take delight in
this vain joy and rest in it; but it you do well you shall hold all
such vain jabbering as the falsehood and flattery of your enemy, who
proffers you a drink of venom tempered with honey. Therefore refuse it;
say you do not want any of it, but want to be in Jerusalem.

' I. am no3t .I. haf
no3t. nou3t .I. aske
ne covete bot þe luf of iћu '
British
Library,
Harley 6579, fol. 88v.
You shall feel such
hindrances, or others like them - what with your
flesh, the world and the devil - more than I can recite now. For as
long as a man allows his thoughts to run willingly all over the world
to consider different things, he notices few hindrances; but as soon as
he draws all his thought and his yearning to one thing alone - to have
that, to see that, to know that, and to love that (and that is only Jesus) - then he shall
well feel many painful
hindrances, for everything that he feels and is not what he desires is
a hindrance to him. Therefore, I have told you particularly of some as
an example. Furthermore, I say in general that whatever stirring you
feel from your flesh or from the devil, pleasant or painful, bitter or
sweet, agreeable or dreadful, glad or sorrowful - that would draw down
your thought and your desire from the love of Jesus to worldly vanity
and utterly prevent the spiritual desire that you have for the love of
him, so that your heart should stay occupied with that stirring: think
nothing of it, do not willingly receive it, and do not linger over it
too
long. But if it concerns some worldly thing that ought to be done for
yoruself or your fellow Christian, finish with it quickly and bring it
to an end so that it does not hang on your heart. If it is some other
thing that is not necessary, or does not concern you, do not trouble
about it, do not parley with it, and do not get angry; neither fear it
nor take pleasure in it, but promptly strike it out of your heart,
saying thus: 'I am nothing; I have nothing; I neither seek nor desire
anything but the love of Jesus'. Knit your thought to this desire and
make it strong; maintin it with prayer and with other spiritual work so
that you do not forget it; and it shall lead you in the right way and
save you from all perils, so that although you feel them you shall not
perish. And I think it will bring you to perfect love of our Lord Jesus.
On the other hand I also say: Whatever work or stirring it may be that
can help your desire, strengthen and nourish it, and make your
heart furthest from the enjoyment and remembrance of the world, and
more whole and more ardent for the love of God - whether it be prayer
or meditation, stillness or speaking, reading or listening, solitude or
company, walking or sitting - keep it for the time and work in it as
long as the savor lasts, provided you take with it food, drink and
sleep like a pilgrim, keeping discretion in your labor as your superior
advises and ordains. For however great his hate on his journey, yet at
the right time he is willing to eat, drink and sleep. Do so yourself,
for although it may hinder you at one time it shall advance you at
another.
ulian,
Anchoress of St Julian's Church in Norwich, is not
normally
thought
to have been influenced by Birgitta of Sweden and by Catherine of
Siena,
yet it is clear that her Showing gets
its concept and its title from Birgitta's influential work while much
in
its text resonates with that in Catherine of Siena's Dialogo.
It is clear, too, that, just at St Birgitta spends her a lifetime
writing
her Revelationes, so
does Julian spend a lifetime writing her Showing.
It is also clear, once the life of Adam
Easton, Norwich Benedictine, is known, that that influence largely
came from him. He avidly defended St Birgitta's canonization, arguing
for
women and their theological abilities, citing among other examples the
four daughters of Philip who were each prophetesses and who helped Luke
write his Gospel and Book of Acts. Adam would also have exposed Julian
to the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius, for he
owned his complete works in a manuscript that survives today at
Cambridge
University, and he may indeed have written for her the Dionysian 'Cloud
of Unknowing' and its related 'Dionise Hid Diuinite' and Epistles.
Julian thus may have had a spiritual director, Adam Easton, who taught
Hebrew at Oxford, just as Birgitta had Master Mathias who studied
Hebrew
at Paris. Julian's St Julian's Church was also next door to the Austin
Friary, a Friary in contact with the Austin Hermit William Flete,
Catherine
of Siena's disciple and executor. Indeed, several
contemporary
writers
resonate with Julian's writings on prayer, the
Franciscan
Tertiary Angela da Foligno, the Benedictine Hermit John Whiterig, the
Augustinian Hermit William Flete, the Dominican Tertiary Catherine of
Siena,
the Cloud Author and Walter Hilton. Angela of Foligno wrote
'God is
closer to us than our own soul', which Julian repeats.In translating Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love in 1991 from the Syon Abbey manuscript owned by Westminster Cathedral and now on loan to Westminster Abbey, her own English words were kept, rather than translating them into our Latinate forms, her 'oneing' instead of our 'uniting', her 'noughting' instead of our 'negating', her 'endlessness' instead of our 'eternity'. Somehow the Latin hides their meaning into its foreignness. The English words' truth, though now so unusual that they seem foreign, are actually closer to what we mean. Also, Julian's theological concepts can have a very modern ring. Computers, like brains and noughts and crosses games, generally simply 'one' and 'nought' their way through problems. Julian's 'oneing' is one's shaping oneself to that of God, 'noughting' the opposite of 'oneing', as evil, which therefore does not exist. Her 'endlessness' is of God, who is all time, but smaller and smaller bits of time, like death, are of 'noughting'.
There are three versions of Julian's Showing of Love. The first, the Westminster Manuscript, of which excerpts are given here, was written perhaps in 1368 when she was twenty-five. The Long Text, given in the Paris Manuscript and in three Sloane and Stowe Manuscripts in the British Library, presents a text originally written when she was fifty, in 1393, discussing a vision of the Crucifix she had had when she lay, she thought, dying, in 1373. A final version, the Short Text, is given in the British Library Amherst Manuscript, and states it was written when she was still alive in 1413, at seventy, when the Lollards, ancestors to the Quakers, were being burned at the stake. That manuscript also contains Marguerite Porete's Mirror of Simple Souls, Henry Suso's Horologium Sapientiae and Jan van Ruusbroec's Sparkling Stone (the latter two now transcribed in booklets in the Julian Library Portfolio) amongst other contemplative texts. All of these early Julian manuscripts are connected to Brigittine Syon Abbey. This manuscript was owned by the courageous Lowe family. The last monk to be buried at Syon Abbey at the Reformation was a Lowe. The Lowes in exile continued to be associated with Syon Abbey in exile in the Low Countries and Rouen, women, as well as men, being imprisoned for their recusancy, and a Lowe priest was drawn, hung and quartered at Tyburn for converting five hundred souls to Catholicism. In the nineteenth century Rose Lowe entered Syon Abbey in Lisbon, saving it from extinction under Wellington's deprivations in Portugal and became its Prioress. Bishop James Bramston studied for ordination at the English College, Lisbon. The manuscript then passed from Lowe ownership into his hands, being rebound at this date, and finally to Westminster Cathedral.
Julian thus spent her whole life writing this book. From the age of fifty on she lived as a Solitary, an Anchoress, in an anchorhold at St Julian's Church, Norwich, probably dressed in the black of a Benedictine nun, for she may have earlier been at Carrow Priory, and she gave counsel to troubled people, like Margery Kempe from Lynn. Julian of Norwich, and Augustine before her in his Confessions, obeyed Christ’s words that they should pray to God. These texts Julian uses, the Shema (Leviticus 19.18, Mark 12.28-31), the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6.5-23, Luke 11.1-4), the Confessions of St Augustine, the Rule of St Benedict, the Dialogues of St Gregory, in her Showing of Love, become all one prayer, a plea, that we love God and our even-Christian, our neighbour, as ourselves. In all these versions, except the last, Julian gives passages from the Bible in her Middle English, from Isaiah, from Jonah, from the Epistles and much else, but she dare not do so in the 1413 version when to own or use John Wyclif's translation of the Bible into English would have caused one to have been burnt at the stake as a Lollard heretic. Strangely she uses neither Jerome's Latin Vulgate nor Wyclif's Middle English, the evidence being that she has access to the Hebrew of the Scriptures, likely gained through Cardinal Adam Easton who had taught the Hebrew Scriptures at Oxford and who had translated them into Latin, correcting Jerome's errors. But she is not an elitist scholar. Her last word in her last version is the Lollard term, one's 'even Christian', one's neighbour as one's equal in the eyes of one's Creat or
Julian begins the Westminster Manuscript by imagining the Virgin Mary worshipping her Child. The initial 'O' in the manuscript is illuminated in blue with red penwork ornamentation, the text written in brownish ink. It echoes the lovely Advent Antiphon, 'O Sapientiae', where the pregnant Virgin worships and addresses her not yet born child as Wisdom.

Ure
gracious
&
goode/ lorde god shewed me in/ party the wisdom
& the trewthe/ of the soule of oure blessed lady/
saynt
mary.
where in I vnder/stood the reuerent beholdynge/ that
she
behelde her god th at is/ her maker. maruelynge with/ grete
reuerence that he wolde be borne of her that was a/
simple
creature
of his makyng.
Later, Julian speaks of the tender hands of God as our Mother.
The
manuscript
has
drawings of hands
in the margin pointing to important parts of the text. The sections
given
here in red are so rubricated in the Paris Manuscript, but not in the
Westminster
Manuscript. In other manuscripts these phrases are in engrossed
letters,
which in one instance, occurs in the Westminster Manuscript and which
may
have been Julian's own practice, perhaps borrowed from Rabbinical
texts,
as in the manuscript of Rabbi David
Kimhi, owned by Cardinal Adam
Easton, Benedictine from Norwich, who effected Birgitta
of Sweden's canonization in 1391.
{ur gracious and good lord God showed me in part the wisdom and the truth of the soul of our blessed Lady, Saint Mary that he would be born of her that was a simple person of his making. For this was her marvelling, 'That he who was her maker would be born of her that is made.' And this wisdom and truth, knowing the greatness of her Maker and the littleness of her self who is made, caused her to say full meekly to Gabriel, 'Lo, me here, God's handmaiden'. This wisdom and truth made her see her God so great, so high, so mighty and so good that the greatness and the nobility and beholding of God fulfilled her with reverent dread. And with this she saw herself so little and so low, so simple and so poor in reward of her God, that this reverent dread fulfilled her with meekness. And thus, by this ground, she was fulfilled of grace and of all manner of virtue, and overpassed all people. In this sight, I understood truly that she is more than all that God made beneath her in worthiness and fullness. For above her there is no thing that is made: but the blessed manhood of Christ, as to my sight. And this our good Lord showed to my understanding, in teaching us.
· · ·
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Westminster Cathedral Manuscript, Julian of Norwich, Showing of Love

Italian blessed olive leaves , Australian hazel nut

Earth First Seen From Space
And in this
he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel
nut , lying in the palm
of my hand, as it seemed. And it was as round as any ball. I looked
upon
it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, 'What may this be?'
And
it was answered generally thus,'It is all
that is made.' I marvelled how it might
last,
for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nought for littleness.
And
I was answered in my understanding: It
lasts and ever shall, for God loves it.
And
so have all things their beginning by the love of God.
In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second that he loves it. And the third, that God keeps it. But what is this to me? Truly, the Creator, the Keeper, the Lover. For until I am substantially oned to him, I may never have full rest nor true bliss. That is to say, until I be so fastened to him that there is nothing that is made between my God and me.
This little thing that is made, I thought it might have fallen to nought for littleness. Of this we need to have knowledge that it is like to nought, all things that are made. For to love and have God that is unmade.
For this is the cause why we are not at ease in heart and soul, for we seek rest here, in this thing that is so little where there is no rest, and knowing not our God who is all mighty, all wise and all good. For he is true rest. God will be known, and he likes us to rest in him. For all that is beneath him cannot suffice us. And this is the cause why no soul is rested, until it is noughted of all that is made. And when he wills to be noughted for love, to have him who is all, then he is able to receive spiritual rest.
Also our Lord showed that it is the fullest pleasure to him, that an innocent soul come to him nakedly, plainly and humbly. For this is the natural yearning of the soul by the touching of the Holy Spirit. And by the understanding that I have in this showing,

Westminster Cathedral Manuscript, Julian of Norwich, Showing of Love
After this, I saw God in a point. That is to say in my understanding. But which sight I saw that he is all things. I beheld with advisement, seeing and knowing in that sight, that he does all that is done, be it never so little. And I saw that nothing is done by chance, nor by hazard, but all by the foreseeing of God's wisdom. And if it be chance or fortune in the sight of man, our blindness and our lack of foresight is the cause. Therefore, well I know that in sight of our lord God, there is not chance or happenstance. And therefore it needs behoove me to grant that all things that are done, are well done, because our lord God does all. For in this time the working of Creation was not showed but of our lord God, in Creation, for he is in the midpoint of all things, and he does all.
And I was sure that he does no sin. And here I saw truly that sin is no deed. Also among other showings our good Lord means thus, 'See, I am God. See, I am in all things. See, I do all things. See, I never left off the works of my hand, nor ever shall, without end. See, I lead all things to the end, to which I ordained them, from without beginning, by the same power, wisdom and love, that I made them with. How should then anything be amiss?'
I
saw
full
surely that he never changes his purpose in any manner of
thing,
nor ever shall without end. For there was nothing unknown to him in his
rightful ordering from without beginning. And therefore all things were
set in order before anything was made, as it should be without end.
·
·
·
And this was shown in these words,'Are you
well paid' . By
those
other
words that Christ said, 'If
you
are paid, I am paid'.
As if he had said,'It is joy and liking
enough
to me, and I ask nothing else of you for my travail, but that I might
pay
you' . And
it
is this he brought to my mind. The property of a glad giver: a glad
giver
takes but little heed of the thing that he gives, but his desire is in
all his intent, to please him and solace him to whom he gives it. And
if
the receiver takes the gift gladly and thankfully, then the courteous
giver
sets at nought all his cost and all his travail for joy and delight
that
he has, for he has so pleased and solaced him whom he loves.
Plenteously
and fully was this shown.
·
·
·
Also our
Lord
showed for prayer, in which showing I saw two conditions in our Lord's
meaning. One is right full prayer. And the other is sure trust. But yet
often our trust is not full, for we are not sure that God hears us, we
think, because of our unworthiness, and because of that we feel
nothing.
For we are as barren and as dry often after our prayer, as we were
before.
And thus in our feeling, our folly is the cause of our weakness. For
thus
I have felt in myself.
And all this brought our Lord suddenly to my mind and showed these words and said ,'I am ground of your seeking. First it is my will that you have it, and I make you to will it. How should it then be that you should not have your seeking of it, since I make you to seek it, and you seek it' . And thus is in the first reason of the three that follow, our lord God shows a great comfort as may be, saying in the same words in the first reason. Where he says , 'And you seek it' , there he shows full great pleasure, and endless reward that he will give us for our seeking.
And in the sixth reason there he says, 'How should then this be?'This was said for an impossibility. For it is the most impossible thing that may be that we should seek mercy and grace, and not have it. For of all things that our Lord makes us to seek, himself has ordained it to us from without beginning.
Here may we [see] then that our seeking is not cause of the goodness and grace that he does to us, but his own proper goodness, and that he shows truly in all these sweet words, where he says, 'I am ground of your prayer and of your seeking' . And our Lord wills that this be known of all his lovers on earth. And the more that we know it, the more should we seek it, if it is wisely taken. And so is our Lord's meaning.
Wise seeking is a true, gracious, lasting will of the soul, oned and fastened into the will of our lord God himself. He is the first receiver of our prayer, it seems to me, and he takes it right thankfully and highly enjoys it. He sends it up above and sets it in the treasury, where it shall never perish. It is there before God with all his holy company continually received, ever fulfulling our needs. And when we shall achieve our bliss, it shall be given to us for a degree of joy with endless worshipful thanking of him. Full glad and merry is our lord God of our prayer. He looks there after and he would have it. For with his grace it makes us like himself in condition, as we be in nature.
Also he says, 'Pray though you think it not help you' .
Also to prayer belong thankings. Thanking is a true inward knowing with
great reverence and lovely dread, turning ourself with all our might
into
the working that our lord God stirred us to, enjoying and thanking him
inwardly. And sometimes with plenteousness, it breaks out into voice,
and
says, 'Good lord, grant mercy, blessed must you be'.
·
·
·
Truth sees God, and wisdom beholds God, and of these two comes the
third,
and that is a marvelous holy delight in God, which is love. Where truth
and wisdom is, truly there is love and truly coming of them both, and
all
of God's making. For God is endless sovereign truth, endless sovereign
wisdom, endless sovereign love unmade.
·
·
·
And furthermore he wills that we know that this dear worthy soul was
preciously
knit to him in the making. Which knot is so subtle and so mighty, that
it is oned to God, in which oneing it is made endlessly holy.
Furthermore,
he wills that we know and understand, that all the souls that shall be
saved in heaven without end are knitted in this kot, and oned in this
oneing,
and made holy in this holiness. And for great endless love that God has
to all mankind, he makes no departing in love between the blessed soul
of Christ and the least soul that shall be saved, for it it is very
easy
to live and to believe, that the dwelling of the blessed soul of Christ
is full high in the glorious godhead. And truly as I understand in our
Lord's meaning, where the blessed soul of Christ is, there is the
substance
of all the souls that shall be saved by Christ.
Highly ought we to enjoy that our God dwells in our soul, and much more highly we ought to enjoy that our soul dwells in God. And the dwelling place of our soul is in God, which is unmade. A high understanding it is inwardly to see and to know that God which is our maker, dwells in our soul. And a higher understanding it is and more inwardly to see and to know our soul that is made dwells in God in substance, of which substance by God we be that we be.
Also
the
almighty
truth of the Trinity is our Father. For he made us and
keeps
us in him. And the deep wisdom
of the Trinity is our Mother, in whom we be all enclosed, and the high
goodness of the Trinity is our Lord, and in him we are closed, and he
is
in
us. All mighty, all wisdom and all goodness; one God, one Lord and one
goodness.
·
·
·
God is nearer to us than our own soul, for he is ground in whom our
soul
stands, and he is the means that keeps the substance and the sensuality
together so that it shall never depart. For our soul sits in God, in
true
rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is
naturally
rooted in God, in endless love. And therefore if we will have knowing
of
our soul, and communing and daliance therewith, it is right to seek
into
our lord God in whom it is enclosed.
·
·
·
Also, as truly as God is our Father, so as truly God is our Mother. And
that he shows in all and namely in these sweet words, where he says, 'I
it am'. That
is to say,'I it am, the might and goodness
of Fatherhead; I it am, the wisdom and the kindness of Motherhood; I it
am, the light and the grace, that is all blessed love; I it am, the
Trinity;
I it am, the Unity; I it am, the high sovereign goodness of all manner
of things; I it am, that makes you to love; I it am, that makes you to
long, the endless fullness of all true desires'.
· · ·
I understand three manners of beholding of
Motherhead in God. The first is ground of our natural making. The
second
is taking of our nature, and there begins the Motherhead of grace. The
third is Motherhead of working and therein is a spreading forth by the
same grace of length and of breadth, of height and of deepness without
end. And all is one love.
·
·
·
The mother's service is nearest, readiest and surest. It is nearest,
for
it is natural, readiest, for it is most of love, and surest for it is
of
truth. This office might nor could anyone ever do to the full, but
Christ
Jesus, God and Man alone. We know well that all our mothers bear us
with
pain and for dying. But our true Mother Jesus, he alone bears us to joy
and to bliss, and endless living, blessed must he be.
Thus he sustains us within him in love. And travailed into the full time that he would suffer the sharpest throes and the most grievous pains that ever were or ever shall be, and died at the last and when he had done and so borne us to bliss, yet might not all this be enough to his marvellous love. And that showed he in these high overpassing words of love, 'If I might suffer more I would suffer more' .
He
might
no
more die, but he would not cease working. Therefore then he
needs
must feed us, for the dear worthy love of Motherhead has made him
debtor
to us. The mother may give her child to suck her milk, but our precious
Mother Jesus, he may feed us with himself, and does full courteously
and
full tenderly with the blessed sacrament of his body and blood that is
precious food of very life. And with all the sweet sacraments he
sustains
us well mercifully and graciously.
.· · ·
The sweet gracious hands of our Mother are
ready and diligent about us. For he in all this working uses the true
office
of a kind nurse, that has nothing else to do, but to attend about the
salvation
of her child. It is the office of our lord Jesus Christ to save us. It
is his worship to do it, and it is his will, we know it. For he wills
that
we love him sweetly and trust in him meekly and strongly. And this he
showed
in these gracious words, I keep you most surely'. Furthermore a natural
child despairs not of the mother's love, and naturally the child
presumes
not of itself, naturally the child loves the mother, each of them loves
the other.
Also I had great desire and longing for God's gift to be delivered of this world and of this life. For often I beheld the woe that is here in this life, and the weal and the blessed being that is in heaven, and I thought sometimes, though there had been no pain in this life but the absence of our lord God, it was more than I might bear, and this made me to mourn and anxiously yearn. And also my own wretchedness, sloth and irksomeness helped thereto, so that I wanted not to live and to travail as it fell out to me to do. And to all our courteous lord God answered for comfort and patience, and said these words, 'Suddenly you shall be taken from all your pain, and from all your sickness, from all your illness and from all your woe, and you shall come up above, and you shall have me to your pay and reward, and you shall be filled with joy and with bliss, and you shall never more have any manner of pain, neither any manner of sickness, nor manner of misliking, nor no wanting of will, but be ever in joy and bliss without end. What should it then grieve you to suffer a while, since it is my will and my worship' .
It is God's will that we set the point of our thought in this blessed beholding, as often as we may, and as long.

iuliana
di
Norwich
inizia
il
manoscritto di Westminster con un'immagine della Vergine
Maria
in adorazione del Figlio suo, come in Dante,
Paradiso
XXX.1-6.
I concetti teologici di Giuliana appaiono molto moderni. I computer, così come il nostro cervello e i giochi affini al filetto, nella risoluzione di un problema utilizzano semplicemente un sistema di numerazione binaria di "uno" e "zero". L' 'essere uno' per Giuliana corrisponde al trasformarsi di un individuo a immagine di Dio. 'L'essere nulla', il contrario dell' 'essere uno', rappresenta il male, che, in quanto tale, non esiste. E 'l'essere infinito' è una proprietà di Dio, che esiste in eterno, laddove i sempre più piccoli frammenti di tempo, così come la morte, appartengono al nulla.
Esistono tre versioni delle Visioni di Giuliana di Norwich. La prima, il manoscritto di Westminster, di cui qui sono presentati alcuni passi, è stata redatta da Giuliana probabilmente nel 1368, a cinquant'anni d'età. Il manoscritto di Parigi e due versioni più tarde, attualmente custodite alla British Library, contengono un testo scritto da Giuliana nel cinquantesimo anno d'età, dove si parla di una visione del Crocifisso, da lei avuta nel 1373, quando, così credeva, era in punto di morte. Una ultima versione è stata composta nel 1413, a settanta anni d'età, quando i Lollardi, progenitori dei Quaccheri, venivano bruciati al rogo. Giuliana attese l'intera vita alla composizione di questo libro. Dai cinquant'anni in poi visse come anacoreta, da reclusa, in un romitaggio presso la Chiesa di san Giuliano a Norwich. Verosimilmente vestì l'abito nero delle monache Benedettine, ed era stata probabilmente nel Convento di Carrow; come Margery Kempe di Lynn consolava gli afflitti. In tutte queste versioni, eccetto l'ultima, Giuliana include passi della Bibbia in Middle English, da Isaia, da Giona, dalle Epistole e da molti altri libri. Non osa, tuttavia, farlo nella versione del 1413, al tempo in cui possedere o usare la traduzione in inglese della Bibbia di Wyclif sarebbe costato l'essere bruciato sul rogo come eretico Lollardo. Eppure l'ultima parola della sua ultima versione è il termine Lollardo 'cristiano mio pari', il mio proprio prossimo, mio simile agli occhi del Creatore.
La
lettera
iniziale
del
manoscritto
di Westminster è miniata in blu con decorazioni in rosso
eseguite
a pennino. Il testo è vergato in marrone. Manine
a margine indicano le parti importanti del testo. Le parti qui in
grassetto, le parole di Cristo, nel manoscritto di Parigi sono in rosso.
Testo
l
nostro
amabile
e buon Signore Dio mi ha in parte rivelato la sapienza e la
verità
dell'anima della nostra Vergine benedetta, Santa Maria, così ho
compreso la riverente adorazione, con la quale
Ella ha contemplato il suo Dio
che è il suo Creatore, provando stupore e gran riverenza
perchè
Lui sarebbe nato da lei, creatura semplice e da Lui stesso generata.
Dunque
questa era la causa del suo stupore: 'Che colui che era il suo Fattore
fosse nato da lei che è la sua creatura.' Questa saggezza e
verità,
di fronte alla conoscenza della grandezza del Creatore e della propria
piccolezza, come creatura, è la ragione per la quale Maria ha
detto
con assoluta umiltà all'Arcangelo Gabriele, 'Eccomi, sono
l'ancella
del Signore.' Questa sapienza e verità le fece vedere il suo Dio
così maestoso, così eccelso, così possente e
così
buono che la grandezza e la nobiltà e la contemplazione di Dio
la
riempirono di riverente tremore. Ed allo stesso tempo si vide
così
piccola e misera, così semplice e povera dinanzi al suo Dio che
tale riverente timore la ricolmò di umiltà. E dunque, per
tale verità fondamentale, fu piena di grazia e di ogni
virtù
molto più di ogni altra creatura. In considerazione di
questo
veramente compresi che Lei, per i suoi meriti e la
sua perfezione,
è al di sopra di tutti coloro che Dio ha creato al di sotto di
lei.
In
quanto più in alto di lei non c'è alcuna cosa creata,
eccetto
la beata umanità di Cristo, così come a me apparve. E
questo
il nostro buon Dio lo ha rivelato alla mia intelligenza, per
ammaestrarci.
. . . . .
A questo punto Egli mi ha
mostrato
una piccola cosa, grande quanto una nocciola, che mi pareva stare nel
palmo della mia mano. Era rotonda come ogni altra sfera. L'ho
guardata
con gli occhi della mente e ho pensato, 'Che cosa mai può
essere?'
E mi fu così risposto: 'Questo
è tutto ciò che è creato'.
Mi chiedevo con stupore come avesse potuto durare, poichè
pensavo
che avrebbe potuto improvvissamente ridursi a nulla a causa della
sua piccolezza.
E la risposta giunse alla mia mente: 'Sussiste
e
sussisterà
sempre perché Dio l'ama'.
Così tutte le cose hanno origine dall'amore di Dio.
Ed in questa piccola cosa ho visto tre attributi. Il primo è che Dio l'ha creata. Il secondo è che l'ama. E il terzo è che Dio la custodisce. Ma cosa simboleggia ciò per me? In verità il Creatore, il Custode, l'Amore. Poiché fino a che non mi sarò unita a Lui, mai avrò piena pace o vera beatitudine. Questo significa: fino a che non sarò in completa unione con Lui, e fino a che nulla di esistente nel creato si interponga tra me e il mio Dio.
Pensavo che questa piccola cosa che è creata avrebbe potuto ridursi a nulla per la sua piccolezza. Da ciò dobbiamo avere piena coscienza che tutte le cose che sono create sono nulla in confronto all'amare e al possedere Dio che è increato.
Questo è il motivo per cui non troviamo pace nel nostro cuore e nella nostra anima, poiché noi cerchiamo la pace in questa cosa che è così piccola, dove non c'è alcun ristoro, e non riconosciamo Dio, che è l'Onnipotente, che è Sapienza e Somma bontà. Poiché Lui è la vera pace. Così conosceremo Dio, e Egli ama che troviamo riposo in Lui. Poichè tutto quello che è al di sotto di Lui non è pienezza. E questo è il motivo per cui nessuna anima trova riposo finchè non fa vuoto di tutto ciò che è creato. Ma allorquando l'anima vuole far vuoto dentro di sè per amore, per possedere Lui che è tutto, allora può trovare la pace dello spirito.
Inoltre il Signore mi rivelò che non c'è più grande gioia per Lui che ricevere un'anima pura, nella nudità, semplice e umile. Essendo tale anelito la naturale propensione dell'anima toccata dallo Spirito Santo. E da ciò che ho inteso con l'intelligenza di questa visione: 'Dio, per la tua bontà, donami te stesso. Poiché tu mi basti e posso non chiedere altro che sia meno, così ch'io possa essere pienamente degna di Te per renderti pieno onore. E se dovessi chiedere meno, mi mancherebbe sempre qualcosa. Ma soltanto in Te non manco di nulla'. Queste parole, 'Dio di bontà', sono gioia per la nostra anima e sono vicinissime alla volontà di nostro Signore. Poiché la Sua bontà è in tutta la Sua creazione e in tutte le Sue opere benedette e tutte le trascende nei secoli dei secoli. Poiché Egli è l'infinito e ci ha creati solo per Se stesso, ci ha redenti con la Sua preziosa Passione e nel Suo amore benedetto ci custodisce, e tutto questo per la sua benevolenza. Questa visione mi è stata data, come ho inteso nello spirito, per ammaestrare le nostre anime ad aderire sapientemente alla bontà di Dio.
E' volontà di Dio che tre cose otteniamo nella nostra preghiera, come dono di Lui. La prima è che preghiamo con pieno intento e con tutta la mente, senza pigrizia e, per sua grazia, con gioia e letizia, senza sciocca pesantezza e vano dolore. La seconda è che rimaniamo saldamente in Lui, per amor suo, senza lamentarci e senza resistergli per le mire della nostra vita perché questa durerà ben poco. La terza è che confidiamo in lui con tutte le nostre forze, con salda fede, poichè è Sua volontà il farci conoscere che arriverà all'improvviso, pieno di benedizioni per tutti coloro che Lo amano, poiché il Suo operare è segreto, e allora sarà conosciuto. La sua venuta sarà improvvisa e come un lampo e si crederà in Lui poichè Sua è la potenza, ed Egli è umile e amabile. Sia benedetto.
Dopo di ciò vidi Dio in un punto. Da tale visione percepita con l'intelligenza compresi che Egli è tutte le cose. Contemplai riflettendo, percependo e comprendendo mediante quella visione, che Egli crea tutto ciò che è creato, ed ama la più piccola cosa. E vidi che nulla è fatto per caso o senza ordine, ma tutto viene fatto dalla onniveggente sapienza di Dio. E se anche vedessimo agire il caso o la fortuna nella vita dell'uomo, la nostra cecità e la nostra deficienza nel prevedere ne sarebbero la causa. Dunque so bene che per nostro Signore Dio non c'è causalità o accidente. E' necessario perciò che io riconosca che tutte le cose che sono create sono cose buone, poiché il Signore nostro Dio crea tutte le cose. In quel momento non mi fu rivelato l'operare della Creazione, ma quello del nostro Signore Dio nella creazione, poiché Egli è il centro di tutte le cose e tutto crea.
E sono certa che non fa il male. E qui ho visto con certezza che il male non è. Inoltre, in altre visioni nostro Signore Dio mi ha detto, 'Vedi, io sono Dio. Vedi, sono in tutte le cose. Vedi, io creo tutte le cose. Vedi, mai ho abbandonato le mie opere nè mai le abbandonerò per l'eternità. Vedi, conduco tutte le cose verso il fine da me prefissato per loro dall'eternità - con la stessa potenza, lo stesso amore e la stessa sapienza, con cui le ho create. Dunque come potrebbe esistere qualcosa che non sia cosa buona?'.
Vidi con assoluta certezza che Egli mai muta le Sue disposizioni nell'opera Sua e mai lo farà in eterno. Poiché non vi è nulla a Lui sconosciuto nella creazione, in tutto il suo ordine e la sua bontà, fin dall'eternità. E dunque tutte le cose furono ordinate prima che alcunché fosse creato, così come sarà per tutta l'eternità.
. . .
E ciò mi fu rivelato con queste parole: 'Hai raggiunto la pace?' E Cristo disse queste altre parole, 'Se tu hai la tua ricompensa, io ho la mia ricompensa'. Come se avesse detto: "E' mia gioia e cosa a me gradita, e non chiedo a te niente altro per il mio sacrifio se non che io possa darti il premio'. Ed è questo che egli mi ha fatto percepire con l'intelligenza: la proprietà di colui che dona con gioia. Il datore gioioso non considera ciò che dà, ma il suo desiderio è tutto proteso a compiacere e a confortare colui a cui ne fa dono. E se colui che riceve il dono lo accoglie con gioia e gratitudine, allora l'amabile datore ritiene come nulla tutto il suo sacrificio e tutta la sua passione per la gioia e il compiacimento che prova, poichè ha fatto cosa tanto gradita e ha tanto confortato colui che Egli ama. Ciò mi fu rivelato abbondantemente e in pienezza.
. . .
Inoltre nostro Signore si manifestò con una rivelazione sulla preghiera. In questa visione ho visto che due sono le condizioni secondo le intenzioni di nostro Signore. Una è che la preghiera sia retta. E l'altra è l'assoluta fiducia. Ma sovente tuttavia la nostra fiducia non è piena poichè non siamo certi che Dio ci ascolti. Pensiamo che sia a causa dell'esser noi indegni e per questa ragione ci sentiamo nulla. Poichè sovente, dopo aver pregato, ci sentiamo sterili e proviamo come prima aridità. E così percependo, la nostra stoltezza è causa della nostra debolezza. Poiché io stessa mi sono sentita così.
E nostro signore subitamente mi ispirò nella mente e mi rivelò queste parole, e disse, 'Io sono il fondamento della tua preghiera. Per prima cosa è mia volontà che tu giunga a pregare, e sono io che ti ispiro a volere ciò. E dunque, come sarebbe mai possibile che tu non fossi esaudita, dal momento che io ho fatto sì che tu pregassi, e tu preghi'. Ed ecco così è nella prima argomentazione delle tre che seguono: il nostro Signore Dio per quanto possibile consola, usando le stesse parole del primo ragionamento. Ove Egli dice, 'E tu preghi', rivela la sua somma gioia e l'infinita ricompensa che ci concederà per il nostro pregare.
E disse nella sesta argomentazione, 'Allora come sarebbe possibile?' Questo fu detto riguardo ad una cosa impossibile. Poiché è la cosa più impossibile che mai possa accadere che noi supplicassimo misericordia e grazia e non ottenessimo questo. Poiché tutte le cose che nostro Signore ci fa chiedere, è lui stesso ad averle preordinate per noi dall'eternità.
Dunque da questo possiamo comprendere che il nostro chiedere non è causa della benevolenza e della grazia che Egli concede a noi, ma emana dalla Sua propria bontà, che egli propriamente rivela in tutte queste dolci parole, dove dice 'Io sono il fondamento della vostra preghiera e del vostro chiedere'. Ed il nostro Signore vuole che tutti coloro che Lo amano sulla terra sappiano questo. E quanto più noi lo comprendiamo tanto più dovremmo tendere a questo, se sapientemente lo accogliessimo. E dunque queste sono le intenzioni di nostro Signore.
La sapiente preghiera è una sincera, perseverante volontà dell'anima, dalla grazia ispirata, tutt'una con la volontà dello stesso nostro Signore Dio. Lui è il primo a ricevere le nostre preghiere, così penso, le accoglie con piena gratitudine e con somma gioia. Le innalza al cielo e le custodisce come tesori, ove non andranno mai perdute. Là la nostra preghiera viene accolta, al cospetto di Dio e di tutta la sua Santa Corte celeste, per sempre esaudirci nelle necessità. E quando raggiungeremo la beatitudine in cielo, il gaudio sarà la ricompensa alle nostre preghiere, e adoranti renderemo grazie a Lui per l'eternità. Il Signore nostro Dio esulta di gioia ed è pieno di gaudio per la nostra preghiera, Egli la attende e la accoglie. Poiché mediante la Sua grazia l'orazione ci rende simili a Lui nella condizione così come lo siamo per natura.
Disse anche, 'Prega anche se pensi che non ti aiuti'. Anche la preghiera di ringraziamento è orazione. Il ringraziamento è un'autentica sapienza interiore congiunta a una grande riverenza, a un timore con sollecitudine, che suscita il volgerci con tutte le nostre forze verso le opere a cui Dio ci ha esortati, gioiendo e Lui ringraziando nell'intimo. E talora profusamente prorompe in esclamazioni, così esprimendosi, 'Signore Dio abbi pietà e sii Tu benedetto'.
. . .
La Verità vede Dio, e la Sapienza Lo contempla e da queste due origina il terzo, che è sublime santa dolcezza in Dio, l'Amore. Dove è verità e sapienza, in verità lì c'è amore e questo emana dalle due, così come tutto ciò che è stato creato da Dio. Poichè Dio è l'infinita sovrana verità, l'infinita sovrana sapienza, l'infinito sovrano amore che è da sempre.
. . .
Ed inoltre vuole che sappiamo che questa amata anima era preziosamente congiunta a Lui quando è stata creata. Il vincolo è così intimo e così possente, così che l'anima è una con Dio ed in questa unità è resa sommamente santa. Inoltre, Dio vuole che conosciamo e comprendiamo che tutte le anime che saranno salvate in cielo per l'eternità sono strettamente avvinte in tale vincolo, e unite in questo "esser uno" e rese sante in tale santità. Ed è per il sommo ed infinito amore che Dio ha per tutta l'umanità, che Egli non fa alcuna differenza nel suo amore tra la benedetta anima di Cristo e la più piccola anima che sarà salvata. Poiché è molto semplice vivere e credere che la dimora della benedetta anima di Cristo si eleva più alta nella gloriosa Deità. E in verità, così come comprendo il significato che il Signore intende, laddove è la benedetta anima di Cristo, là è anche la vita di tutte le anime che saranno salvate da Cristo.
Noi dobbiamo compiacerci grandemente del fatto che il nostro Dio ha posto la Sua dimora nella nostra anima, e ancora di più dobbiamo gioire che la nostra anima dimori in Dio. E la dimora della nostra anima è in Dio, che è da sempre. Sommo discernimento è comprendere e sapere che Dio, che è il nostro creatore, ha preso dimora nella nostra anima. E maggior saggezza è comprendere più profondamente, e ancora di più intuire e conoscere che la nostra anima, che è creata, nell'essenza dimora in Dio, e tale essenza, per grazia di Dio, ci rende quel che siamo.
Inoltre l'onnipotente verità della Trinità è nostro Padre. Poiché ci ha creati e ci custodisce in Lui. E la profonda sapienza della Trinità è nostra Madre, in cui noi siamo tutti racchiusi. E la somma benevolenza della Trinità è nostro Signore e viviamo in intimità con Lui e Lui è in noi. Tutto potenza, tutto sapienza e tutto bontà; un unico Dio, un unico Signore, un'unica benevolenza.
. . .
Dio è più vicino a noi della nostra stessa anima poiché Lui è il fondamento in cui la nostra anima si radica ed Egli è lo strumento che mantiene l'essenza ed il corpo materiale uniti così che essa non se ne parta mai. Poiché la nostra anima è in Dio, riposa in lui, rimane in Dio con salda forza, e per natura è radicata in Dio, nell'amore infinito. E dunque se vogliamo conoscere la nostra anima e vivere in comunione spirituale ed insieme amare, è cosa giusta cercare la nostra anima in Dio nostro Signore, che Egli racchiude in Sé.
. . .
E così come in verità Dio è nostro Padre, altrettanto vero è che Dio è nostra Madre. E Dio rivela questo in tutte le cose e più propriamente quando dice queste dolci parole: 'Io sono ciò'. Questo significa, 'Io sono la potenza e la benevolenza di Dio Padre; Io sono la sapienza e la dolcezza della Maternità; Io sono la luce e la grazia che è tutto amore benedetto; Io sono la Trinità; Io sono l'Unità; Io sono la somma sovrana bontà di tutte le cose; Io sono colui che suscita il tuo amare; Io sono colui che suscita il tuo desiderare l'infinita pienezza di ogni vero anelito'.
. . .
Sento che vi sono tre modi di contemplare la Maternità di Dio. Il primo è fondamento della nostra natura creata. Il secondo deriva dalla nostra natura, e da lì si è originata la Maternità della grazia. Il terzo è la Maternità della creazione e questo è un'effondersi della stessa grazia, un profluvio di grazia, somma e perfetta per tutti i secoli dei secoli. E tutto è un unico amore.
. . .
La protezione della madre è la più vicina, la più sollecita e la più sicura. E' la più vicina poichè è naturale, la più sollecita poichè è tutta amore, la più sicura poiché è verace. Questo ufficio nessuno sarebbe mai capace di compiere perfettamente, se non Gesù Cristo, Dio e Uomo. Sappiamo bene che ogni madre ci dà alla luce con dolore e per la morte. Ma solo la nostra vera Madre, Gesù, ci fa nascere alla gioia e alla beatitudine, e alla vita eterna. Sia benedetto.
Dunque ci sostiene, ci fa rimanere in Lui, nel suo amore. E quando è giunta l'ora patì, soffrendo le più acute pene e i più atroci dolori che mai siano stati e saranno. Morì infine e questo fu compiuto per condurci alla beatitudine. Tuttavia questo ancora non sarebbe stato abbastanza per il suo sommo amore. E mi rivelò ciò con queste somme ed eccelse parole d'amore, 'Se potessi soffrire di più, soffrirei di più'.
Gesù è morto una volta per sempre, ma non cesserà di sacrificarsi. Dunque deve nutrirci poiché il prezioso amore della Maternità Lo ha reso nostro debitore. La madre può dare a suo figlio il suo latte da succhiare, ma, la nostra preziosa Madre, Gesù può nutrirci offrendo se stesso, e opera ciò in completa umiltà e piena tenerezza mediante il santissimo sacramento del Corpo e Sangue Suo, il prezioso cibo di vita. E con tutti questi dolci sacramenti Egli, benignissimo e misericordioso, è nostro sostegno.
. . .
Siamo nelle dolci e
amorevoli
mani della Madre nostra, sollecite e premurose. Poiché in tutto
questo operare Egli assume l'ufficio di una amorevole nutrice che non
ha
nessun altro compito se non attendere alla salvezza del suo bambino. La
missione di nostro Signore Gesù Cristo è quella di
salvarci.
Questo è compiuto per i suoi meriti, ed è conforme alla
sua
volontà
che si conosca. Poiché Egli vuole che lo amiamo teneramente e
confidiamo
in Lui con umiltà e con tutta le nostre forze. E questo
rivelò
con tali benigne parole 'Vi sostengo
fortemente'.
Per di più un bambino per natura confida sempre nell'amore della
madre e, naturalmente non pone la sua fiducia in sè; ama la
madre
ed essi si amano reciprocamente.
Inoltre il mio anelito e la mia grande speranza era che, per dono di Dio, fossi liberata da questo mondo e da questa vita. Poiché sovente ho veduto le pene dell'esistere e il benessere e la condizione beata che è nei Cieli e talora ho pensato che malgrado non abbia avuto in questa vita altro dolore che l'assenza di nostro Signore Dio, questo era più di quanto potessi sopportare e questo mi addolorava e mi struggevo nel mio anelito. Inoltre la mia stessa miseria, pigrizia e abbattimento hanno contribuito a quella situazione, cosicché non volevo vivere e soffrire in quanto per me era insopportabile. Ed a tutto questo il nostro amabile Signore Dio rispose confortandomi e esortandomi ad essere capace di sopportare con queste parole: 'In un subito sarai liberata da tutto il tuo dolore e da tutta la tua malattia e da ogni tua pena. E verrai quassù e avrai me come tua ricompensa e premio e sarai ricolma di gioia e beatitudine. E mai più proverai alcun dolore, nè avrai alcuna malattia, nè alcun dispiacere, nè mancanza di volontà, ma sarai per sempre nella gioia e nella beatitudine per l'eternità. Perché dunque dovrebbe affliggerti il soffrire per un po', dal momento che questa è la mia volontà ed è degno del mio onore?
È volontà di Dio
che
fissiamo i nostri pensieri in questa benedetta contemplazione il
più
spesso ed il più a lungo possibile.
X.xxiv.46v
nd with this our good
Lord said full blissfully, 'Lo,
how I love
you'. As if he had said, 'My
darling,
behold and see your Lord your God who is your Maker and your endless
joy.
See your own brother, your Saviour, my child, behold. See what liking
and
bliss I have in your salvation. And for my love joy now with me'. And
also for more understanding this blessed word was said, 'Lo,
how I love you'. As if he had said,
'Behold
and see that I loved you so much before I died for you, that I would
die
for you, and now I have died for you and suffered willfully that I may.
And now is all my bitter pain and all my hard travail turned to endless
joy and bliss to me. And to you. How should it now be, that you should
pray anything of me that delights me, but if I should full gladly grant
it to you. For my delight is your holiness and your endless joy and
bliss
with me.
Il nostro buon Signore disse in piena beatitudine: 'Guarda quanto ti amo', come se avesse detto: 'Mia diletta, contempla e guarda il tuo Signore, il tuo Dio, che è il tuo creatore e la tua gioia eterna. Guarda il fratello tuo, il tuo salvatore; figlia mia, contempla e guarda quale gaudio e beatitudine provo per la tua salvezza, e rallegrati con me per il mio amore'. E perché comprendessi più profondamente, furono dette queste parole benedette: 'Guarda quanto ti amo', come se avesse detto: 'Contempla e guarda che ti ho così tanto amato, prima di morire per te, da voler morire per te. E ora sono morto per te, e ho voluto soffrire così. Ora tutta la mia amara pena e tutto il mio duro travaglio sono stati trasformati in gioia eterna e gaudio per me, per te. Come potrebbe accadere ora che tu mi chieda qualcosa che mi è gradito senza che io te lo conceda con grande gioia? Per il mio gaudio è la tua santità, la tua gioia e felicità eterna unita a me'.
XIV.liv.113-113v
And for the great endless love
that God has to all mankind, he makes no separation in love between the
blessed soul of Christ and the least soul that shall be saved. For it
is
full easy to believe and to trust, that the dwelling of the blessed
soul
of Christ is full high in the glorious Godhead. And truly as I
understand
in our Lord's meaning, where the blessed soul of Christ is, there is
the
substance of all the souls who shall be saved by Christ. Highly ought
we
to enjoy that God dwells in our soul, and much more highly ought we
enjoy
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 is unmade. A high
understanding
it is inwardly to see and to know that God who is our maker dwells in
our
soul. And a higher understanding it is inwardly to see and to know our
soul that is made dwells in God's substance, of which substance by God,
we are who we are. And I saw no difference between God and our
substance
but as it were all God. And yet my understanding took that our
substance
is in God, that is to say that God is God, and our substance is a
creature
in God.
E per l'infinito grande amore che Dio ha per tutta l'umanità non fa alcuna distinzione nell'amore tra l'anima santa di Cristo e la più piccola anima che sarà salvata. E' pienamente semplice credere e confidare che la dimora dell'anima beata di Cristo è eccelsa nella gloria di Dio; ma è anche vero, come compresi da quello che nostro Signore mi rivelava, che dove dimora l'anima beata di Cristo, là c'è pure l'essenza di tutte le anime che saranno salvate da Cristo. Dovremmo grandemente gioire che Dio abita nella nostra anima; e ancor più grandemente dovremmo gioire che la nostra anima dimora in Dio. La nostra anima è stata creata per essere la dimora di Dio, e la dimora della nostra anima è Dio che è increato. Sublime conoscenza è vedere e percepire intimamente che Dio, nostro creatore, dimora nella nostra anima, e una conoscenza ancora più grande è il vedere e conoscere più intimamente che la nostra anima, che è creata, dimora nell'essenza di Dio, e per questa essenza divina noi siamo quello che siamo. E non vidi differenza alcuna tra Dio e la nostra essenza, ma era come se tutto fosse Dio.
XIV.lvi.118
And thus I saw full securely that
it is readier to us, and more easy to come to the knowing of God, than
to know our own soul. For our soul is so deep grounded in God and
so endlessly treasured that we may not come to the knowing thereof,
till
we have first knowing of God, who is the maker to whom it is
oned. But notwithstanding, I saw that we have naturally of fullness to
desire
wisely, and truly to know our own soul. Whereby we are taught to seek
it
where it is, and that is in God. And thus by gracious leading of
the holy Ghost, we should know them both in one. Whether we be stirred
to know God, or our soul, they are both good and true. God is
nearer
to us than our own soul, for he is ground in whom our soul stands, and
he is the means who keeps the substance and the sensuality together so
that they shall never separate. For our soul sits in God in very rest,
and our soul stands in God in true strength. And our soul is
naturally
rooted in God in endless love. And therefore if we will have knowledge
of our soul and communing and dalliance therewith, we must needs seek
into
our Lord God in whom it is enclosed.
E così vidi con assoluta certezza che più prontamente e più facilmente riusciamo a conoscere Dio che non la nostra anima. La nostra anima è così profondamente radicata in Dio e così custodita per l'eternità come un tesoro che non possiamo giungere a conoscerla se prima non conosciamo Dio, il creatore al quale è unita. Ciò nonostante vidi che per la nostra natura e la nostra perfezione dobbiamo desiderare con sapienza e rettitudine di conoscere la nostra anima, imparando a cercarla dove essa è, e cioè in Dio. E così per la guida che ci viene dalla grazia del Santo Spirito noi conosceremo le due cose in una: sia che siamo spinti a conoscere Dio o la nostra anima; ambedue gli impulsi sono buoni e veri. Dio è più vicino a noi di quanto non lo sia la nostra stessa anima, poiché egli è il fondamento su cui poggia la nostra anima [Egli è il mediatore che tiene unite l'essenza e il desiderio così che non si separino mai]. Poiché la nostra anima riposa in Dio nella quiete, in Dio ha la vera forza. La nostra anima è per sua natura radicata in Dio in un amore infinito. E dunque, se vogliamo conoscere la nostra anima, conversare e entrare con essa in comunione, dobbiamo cercarla in Dio nostro Signore, in Lui essa è racchiusa.
XVI.lxviii.143v
And then our Lord opened my ghostly eye and showed me my soul in the midst of my heart. I saw the soul so large as it were an endless world and as it were a blissful kingdom. And by the condition I saw therein I understood, that it is a worshipful city.
E Dio nostro Signore
aprì
gli occhi del mio spirito e mi mostrò la mia anima nell'intimo
del
mio cuore. Vidi che l'anima era così grande da essere come una
cittadella
senza confini e come un regno beato. Capii da quel che vidi dentro che
è una città che deve essere adorata.
Julian's
manuscripts,
like
those
of
Catherine of Siena, are copied out again and again in the context of
Syon
Abbey, the Abbey deliberately founded in England in accordance
with
St Birgitta's Rule by Henry V, in response to her desire for peace
between
England and the rest of the world. Interestingly, both Julian (circa
1413)
and Syon Abbey (1434) were visited by an indefatigable woman pilgrim,
mother
of fourteen, Margery Kempe.
Margery
Kempe
visited
Julian of Norwich perhaps before 1413 and later reported their
conversations,
thus providing for us not only the early written texts we now have, the
Amherst,
Westminster, Paris Texts, but also
an Oral Text, spoken just prior to the time that the 1413 exemplar to
the
Amherst Text was being written. Margery's Manuscript thus allows us to
go back to fifteenth-century East Anglia with, as it were, a
tape-recorder or an IPod. For this reason we present this essay in an
oral recording on the Web which can
be
read simultaneously with this text, giving the various Julian and
Margery texts, on the screen.
Julian functioned in her community much like a psychiatrist, healing
souls, that Greek word, in fact, meaning 'soul doctor'. For the Middle
Ages theology was psychiatry, making use of
the Book of Job and of Boethius' Consolation
of Philosophy. Julian
helps heal Margery's soul, perhaps too
by
suggesting the therapy of the Jerusalem pilgrimage and the writing of
the vast book of her travels, The
Book of Margery Kempe.
Both the Amherst and the Butler-Bowden Manuscripts, of Julian's Showing and Margery's Book, are now in the British Library. This essay transcribes directly from the manuscript texts. The letter þ 'thorn' is the Middle English form for th, the letter 3, 'yoch', is g, y or gh, the median letter ∫ the scribal s. Contractions are spelled out in italics. The foliation of the manuscripts is cited, preceded by A for Amherst (the Julian Showing Manuscript in the British Library, Additional 37,790), W for Westminster (the Julian Showing Manuscript owned by Westminster Cathedral and on loan to Westminster Abbey), P for Paris (the Julian Showing Manuscript in the Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Anglais 40) which can all be retrieved from the edition by Sister Anna Maria Reynolds, C.P. and Julia Bolton Holloway, published by SISMEL, Florence, 2001), and M for The Book of Margery Kempe (the Butler-Bowden Manuscript, now British Library, Additional 61,823, discovered in 1934, and retrieved from the manuscript rather than from the edition by Sanford Brown Meech and Hope Emily Allen, Oxford: Early English Text Society, 212, 1939, 1961). Letters and words rubricated here are so in the manuscripts.
Margery has her scribes tell us (M, folio 21)
Margery and Julian's conversation continues
Julian next is reported as citing her authorities, Paul and Jerome, to Margery, who perhaps misremembers one of them:
Julian next discusses evil:
Apart from the Hilton and Julian texts in the Westminster Manuscript, making this same point are other texts associated with Julian: Norwich Castle Manuscript, fol. 78v: . . . iusti sedes est sapiencie. ffor as seith holy write the soule of the ry3tful man or womman is the see & dwelling of endeles wisdom that is goddis sone swete ihe If we been besy & doon our deuer to fulfille the wil of god & his pleasaunce thanne loue we hym wit al our my3te; and likewise John Whiterig, Contemplating the Crucifixion; from Anima iusti sedes est sapiencie: Proverbs 10.25b; cited, Gregory, Hom. XXXVIII in Evang. PL 76, 1282.
With that last comment, '& ∫o I tru∫t, ∫y∫ter, þat 3e ben', we realise that we certainly are listening to reported speech and that Dame Julian addressed Dame Margery, her 'evyn cristen', even as 'Sister'. The discussion of evil reminds one more of William Flete's Remedies Against Temptations than it does of Julian's 'sin as nought'. Interestingly, this phrasing concerning the soul as a city is closer to that of the Sixteenth Showing in the 1393/1580 Paris Manuscript, P143v-145v, and the 1413/1450s Amherst Manuscript, A112, which both give vestiges of the Lord and the Servant Parable, than it is to the earlier version, the Fourteenth Showing, present in the Westminster, W101-102v, and Paris, P116-119, Manuscripts.
liance þer
with:
It
behouyth
to ∫eke into oure lord
god in
whom it is enclo∫yd. And
an=
nentis oure ∫ub∫tance it
may
ryghtfully be called our
∫oule.
and anentis our ∫en∫ualite it
may ryghtfull be called
our
∫oule. and þat is
by þe
onyng
þat it hath in
god.
That wur=
∫hypfull cite þat our
lord
ihesu
∫yttith in. it is our
∫en∫ualite.
in whiche he is
enclo∫ed. and
our kyndely sub∫tance is
beclo=
∫yd in ihesu cri∫te.
with þe
ble∫∫ed
∫oule of cri∫te ∫yttyng
in
re∫te
in þe godhed. And
I ∫awe ful
∫urely þat it
behouyth
nedis
þat we ∫hall be in
longynge
and in penance. into
þe
tyme
þat we be
led ∫o depe in
to god
þat we may verely
&
truely
know oure owne ∫oule. And
∫othly I ∫aw þat
in to
thys
high depenes oure lorde
hym
∫elfe ledith vs in
þe ∫ame
loue
þat he made vs.
and in þe
same
loue þat he bought
vs.
bi his
mercy & grace
þrough
vertue
of his blessed pa∫∫ion.
And
not with∫tondyng
all
þis
we
may neuer comme to the
full
knowyng of god. tyll we
fir∫t
know clerely oure owne
∫oule.
ffor into þe tyme
þat
it be
in
the
ffull myghtis we
may not be
all full holy. and
þat
is þat
oure
∫en∫ualite. by þe
vertue of
cri∫tis
pa∫∫ion be brought up
into þe
∫ub∫tance with
all the
profitis
of
oure tribulacion þat
oure
lorde
∫hall make vs to gete by
mercy
& grace.
Of interest, too, is that the Amherst Manuscript contains not only Julian's Showing of Love but also Jan van Ruusbroec's Sparkling Stone, translated into Middle English. Both Julian's Sixteenth Showing, P146, and the Sparkling Stone make use of Revelation 2.17. The Amherst Manuscript, A118, gives the text from Ruusbroec's Sparkling Stone discussing the Apocalypse of St John as the 'Book of the Secrets of God' addressed 'To him that overcometh', in which 'the spirit says in the Apocalyps vincenti says he schalle gyffe hym a lytil white stone and in it a newe name the whiche no man knowes but he that takys it' . This is material Julian well could have shared with Margery.
Julian continues:
1st Gent. An ancient land in ancient oraclesJulian and Margery inscribe within the pages of their books their souls and their cities, black-clad Julian in her anchorhold in Norwich inscribing within that small space all the cosmos and its Creator while Margery in her white pilgrim robes trudges to Jerusalem and back.
Is called "law-thirsty:" all the struggle there
Was after order and a perfect rule.
Pray, where lie such lands now? . .
2nd Gent. Why, where they lay of old - in human souls.


hou hast
pryncypally thre enemys - the world thy flesshe & the evil spyryt.
Thou mayst fle fro the world to god. But thy flesshe & thy enemye
wyl go with the in to the wyldernes. Thou hast mervel why I say in to
the wyldernes whan thou dwellyst in a fayer chapel of our lady blessyd
worshipped & thanked mu[s]t she be. Aske no more felyshyp for to
talke with al but her I pray the: & then I sey that thou dwellyst
wel in the wyldernes and sythen yt ys so that thou hast fled fro al
women: yf thou may not fle fro thyn owne flesshe, have no woman in thy
mynde so ofte as her, & then wel I wot thou shalt overcome thy thre
enemys by thes thre vertues that ys to say, agaynst thyn enemy gostly
obedyence, agayn thy flesshe clene chastyte; agaynst the world, that
thou turne not to yt agayn bot kep pouerte with a good wyl. And then
may thou wel say to god almyghty. Lord delyuer me fro myn enemyes for I
haue fled to the teche me to do thy wyl, for thou art my god Eripe me de inimicis meis, domine ad te
confugi doce me facere voluntatem tuam quia deus meus es tu.
nd I let the wyt ther is no maner of
way that is leful to the to haue the lust of thy flesshe. And thynke on
wel that I say no maner of way: nowther lyttyl nor mekyl nowther one
way nowther other. And therfor a remedy I shal nowe tel the & I
pray the kepe yt wele. Thy thought may not be clene alway. But yf yt be
in hevyn with god & our lady or with some other good seynt or
Aungel And thy thought be there with love, drede & reuerence &
mekenes: than dwellys thou ther as seynt paule sayth Nostra
conuersacio in celis est Our
lyvynge ys in hevyn. And I pray the love wel our blessyd lady & let
her be thy leman swete: and say to her thus Tota pulchra es amica mea
& macula non est in te. Al fayer thou art o leman myne &
ther s
not one spot in the, And to her pray & by her sende thy prayers to
god and say thus Eripe
me
de
inimicis meis domine ad te confugi doce me et cetera
hy Selle ys the second thyng that I
sayd, and what cal I thy selle trowest thou but the place or the chapel
of owr blessed lady where thou dwellyst. And wote thou wel, thou has
great cause to kepe yt wel, for thou that not rynne here & there to
seke thy lyvyng. God hath prouyded for the, and therfor kepe thy selle,
& yt wyl kepe the fro synne. Be no home rynner for to see mervels
no gangrel fro towne to towne, no land leper wavyng in the wynde lyke a
laverooke. But kepe thy sel & yt wyl kepe the. But now thou sayst
peraduenture thou mayst not kepe yt for thou art sent for to gentils in
the contre whome thou dare not displeas. I answer & say thus. Tel
them that thou hast forsakyn the world & therfor but in the tyme of
very great nede as in the tyme of dethe or such other great nede; thou
mayst not let thy deuocion. And when thou shalt help them loke thou do
yt trewly for the love of god & take no thyng but for thy cost. And
when thou syttest by thy one in the wyldernes & art yrke or wery.
Say this to our lady as saynt Godryke sayd that holy hermyte: Sancta maria virgo mater Iesu christi
nazareni protege et adiuua tuum hugonem suscipe et adduce cito tecum in
tuum regnum vel in dei regnum. He said adiuua tuum godricum, but thou
[may say] tuum hugonem,
for
thy name ys hewe. This is thus to say in englyshe Saynt mary mayden
& moder of Iesu christ of Nazareth holde & helpe thy hewe &
lede soaue with the in thy kingdom or say in to the kingdom of god
bothe ys good. And I councel the love wel saynt hew of our order of the
chartyr monkes. But now thou sayst I trowe thou must come forthe to
here messe that ys ful wel semyng but yf thou had masses song withyn
thy chapel. But when thou hast hard masse: then fle home but if thou
haue a ful good cuase as thou sayst in this verse Ad te confugi, to the lord I
haue fled holy bothe body & soule as thou [art] my al. For &
thou fle with thy body & not with thy hert fro the world, then art
thou a fals ypocryte as scripture sayth/ f. 267v/ Simulatores callidi prouocant iram dei
that is thus in englisshe Fals wyly dyssemblers prouoke the yre of god
therfore in thy nede agaynst such temptacyons say this verse Eripe me de inimicis meis et
cetera.
hat I say
now I pray the gyf good hede. Scripture sayth thus. Non enim habet amaritudinem conuersacio
illorum nec tedium conuictus illius: sed leticiam & gaudium.
Vnderstonde yt thus. The conuersacyon that ys to say the holy lyvyng of
a good man hath no bytternes in hert nor yrksomenes to lyfe with god
but gladnes & ioy. So if thou wilt lyfe alway in ioy: kepe thy
thought alway on god with ove & drede & other vertues. And in
the mornyng & evenyng vse long prayers or other spiritual exercyses
as ys medytacyon as I sayd before & other lyke & betwene morne
& evyn many prayers or spiritual exercyses but shortly & ofte
& werke betwixt them & in the tyme of thy werke let not they
mynd go fro god. And in the begynnyng thou shalt fele some penaunce or
payne, but ever after thou shalt lyfe lyke a throstel cok or a nyghtyng
gale for ioy and thanke god & pray for me & as ofte as thou
haste myster sayd the said verse
Eripe me et cetera. Deo
gracias Amen quoth Ricardus methley de Monte gracie ordinis carthusiensis
fratri Hugoni deuoto heremite.
III.
A. The
Brigittines B. The
Benedictines: Dames Margaret Gascoigne, Bridget More, Barbara
Constable, Gertrude More, Catherine
Gascoigne, Clementia Cary, Agnes More, Fathers Augustine Baker and
Serenus Cressy, OSB Dames
Margaret
Gascoigne
(†1637)
and
Bridget
More, OSB (†1665)
Dame Bridget More, OSB
ame
Margaret
Gascoigne,
OSB,
an
exiled English
Benedictine
nun at Cambrai in Flanders, died there in 1637, hers being the first
grave
within the shadow of their monastic house. Before that date she had
compiled a contemplative anthology of her devotions. In its Chapter
Forty-Two,
she had copied out a fragment from a medieval Julian exemplar likely
present
at Cambrai, and commented upon its text. She misreads, or only
partially
reads, the text, believing that Julian dies, rather than lives,
following
her death-bed vision of 1373. Nevertheless she responds appropriately
to
her reading, taking Julian's experiencing of God's presence into her
own
intense life of monastic prayer. In so doing she is part of a
Benedictine
continuity of contemplation, a continuity that transcends time and
gender,
caring only that the soul be oned with God in eternity that equally
included
women with men, to be attained in a community where all are vowed to
conversion
from worldliness, to stability and to obedience.
Dame Margaret Gascoigne's book of devotions would likely have been found in her cell at her death and was treasured by her Benedictine Sisters who particularly made copies of it when the Cambrai daughter house was founded at Paris. The copy that survives, called by Placid Spearitt, OSB, 'Gascoigne B', was most carefully made by Dame Bridget More, OSB, descendant of Thomas More, sister of the foundress of the Cambrai Our Lady of Consolation, Dame Gertrude More, OSB, and herself first Prioress of the Paris Our Lady of Good Hope. Another of their relatives was Dame Agnes More, again a descendant of Thomas More, who wrote a treatise influenced by Julian of Norwich, titled The Building of Divine Love. While Dame Clementia Cary, OSB, was the Foundress of the Paris house; being the daughter of Viscount Falkland, Viceroy in Ireland, she had contacts with Caroline royalty, especially Queen Henrietta Maria, and she brought with her into community her father's chaplain, Serenus Cressy, OSB, who would publish the first edition of Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love in 1670. Dame Margaret Gascoigne had been sister to Dame Catherine Gascoigne, OSB, who was elected first Abbess of Our Lady of Consolation in Cambrai in 1629, both coming from Yorkshire, their niece, Dame Justina Gascoigne, succeeding Dame Bridget More as Prioress at Our Lady of Good Hope in Paris in 1665.
The party of English women had settled in Cambrai in 1623, and within six months they had petitioned the President of the English Congregation to send them a monk qualified to train them in Benedictine contemplative prayer. In answer, they were joined in 1624 by Father Augustine Baker, OSB, who became their spiritual director until his stormy removal in 1633, when he returned to Douai. He went back to England in 1638, dying there in 1641.
The Paris daughter house, founded in 1651, brought forth an intense burst of copying of all devotional books in the Cambrai library prior to that removal, the greatest number being executed by Dame Barbara Constable, who had joined the Cambrai community from Yorkshire in 1645,(3) the copied books including Dame Bridget More's manuscript of Dame Margaret Gascoigne (today, St Mary's Abbey, Colwich, H18, folios 155-161), Dame Barbara Constable's fragmentary manuscript of Julian's Showing of Love (Upholland Manuscript), and Dame Clementia Cary's complete manuscript of Julian's Showing of Love (British Library, Sloane 1). Another complete manuscript is found with Sloane 1 and given the siglum S2. Both these manuscripts have careful annotations made in preparation for the 1670 first edition. Yet another manuscript is the most carefully prepared Stowe 42, turning the queries and NBs of S1 and S2 into carefully prepared but not quite finished shoulder notes from which Serenus Cressy's 1670 edition was to be typeset. All these manuscripts tend to give the words to Christ to Julian in larger script than they do the texts in which these are embedded.
How did Margaret Gascoigne and the Cambrai and Paris communities come by a medieval exemplar of Julian's Showing of Love? It is possible that they acquired the exemplar for the Paris Long Text, Bibliothèque Nationale, Anglais 40 (which in their day was shut up in the Bigot collection in Rouen), but which had been copied out by Syon Abbey in exile in Flanders. They could have obtained that exemplar from Sheen Anglorum. But the manuscripts of G, U, S1 and S2 all differ from P in that they enlarge or underline Christ's words to Julian, while P rubricates them. The other possibility is that Dame Margaret Gascoigne had treasured a Julian manuscript that had remained in her family since the days of Thomas Gascoigne, Chancellor of Oxford and patron of Syon Abbey, and which was to engender in turn G, U, S1, S2, C1 and Serenus Cressy's published edition from C1 as C2.
These texts were read and copied in the midst of a living community of prayer and contemplation, and one that continues today at Stanbrook and at Colwich. But the Sisters had to fight with every weapon of love and obedience to preserve their manuscripts, including their manuscript of Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love. In 1655, they were ordered by Dom Claude White, then President of the English Benedictine Congregation, to surrender their contemplative books which were perceived 'to containe poysonous, pernicious and diabolicall doctrine'. The Abbess and the Sisters prostrated themselves before Dom White, refusing, in charity, to surrender their books (one of them their exemplar manuscript of Julian's Showing of Love),
Text:
__________________________
_____________________________
___________________________
ought, yet I desire
that with
all the might,
and powers of my soule,
and
with all the
affection of my harte, I
could
reioice
in thy infinite happines;
and
though
my soule be neuer so poore
and
in
neuer so great miseries,
yet
I desire
according to such abilitie
as
is in me
of thy gift, to ioy and
reioy
together with
thee, for what
thou art and doest
possesse in thy immense
riches,
power and glorie
, and in all that
is pleasing to thee in all
things,
in thy
selfe and in all thy
creatures,
in the
riches of others, and my
owne
pouertie
and miserie (for to them,
whom
thou
art pleasing to, what
thing
of thine
can be displeasing.) and
what
is wan=
ting in me (through
disabilitie)
to
performe in this matter, I
will
re=
ioice and exullt in hart,
that
in all
fullnes and perfection it
is
supplied
____________________________
and aboundeth in thee
thy self,
where
I hope my selfe
accordinglie
in the
time which thou hast from
eternitie
foreordained for it, to
finde
by ex=
perience such supplie and
amends
for all mine and other
creatures
in=
sufficiencies in the
matter.
I farther=
more reioice in
my Saluation which
I confidentlie hope in
vertue
of thy
most free and liberall
goodnes,
in the
end to obtaine at the
handes
of thy
mercie, and in no sorte as
if
I could
expect anie such matter as
due
to me or merited by me,
nor
anie
other waies to be attained
to
by me,
then by thy free giuft and
meere
mercie (in vertue of the
grace
and
deserts of my most deere
Lorde
and sauiour
Jesu Christ thy onlie
and most dearelie beloued
sonne)
____________________________
which mercies and
goodnesses
of thine I
haue allreadie in various
maners
euen
in my owne most unworthie
selfe
so
greatlie and so
frequentlie
experienced, that
I can not, nor maie
heerafter
doubt there=
of, but euer maie, must,
and
will to the
end confidentlie hope in
thesame,
and
thereon onlie and wholie
relie.
Since editing the above I
enquired of Dame Margaret Truran about their
manuscript of Augustine Baker on Dame Margaret Gascoigne and she has
kindly
sent the following:
The passage in Fr Baker’s Life and Death of Dame Margaret Gascoigne on Julian of Norwich runs as follows (my transcript).
"She upon Sunday at night, being the Vigil of St Laurence, in bed beginning to be distressed in body, and the next morning after being present at Mass she there fainted and was carried thence into the Infirmary where remaining to her expiration or last Agony in perfect use of her senses, she for that space spent her thoughts wholly towards God, and in preparation for death, if God should please to send it, and which she esteemed (considering how she found her state of body) would be her lot by means of the Extraordinary Indisposition & sickness she was now in. Towards the said good Preparation for Death, and to hold her the more continually and efficaciously therein, she caused one that was oft conversant & familiar with her to place (written at and underneath the Crucifix, that remained there before her, and which she regarded with her eyes during her sickness and till her death) the holy words that had sometime been spoken by God to the holy Virgin Juliana the Anchoress of Norwich, as appeareth by the Old Manuscript Book of her Revelations, and with the which words our Dame had ever formerly been much delighted: ‘Intend (or attend) to me. I am enough for thee: rejoice in me thy Saviour and in thy salvation.’ Those words, I say, remained before her eyes beneath the Crucifix till her death." Stanbrook Baker MS 19 (copy of Downside Abbey Baker MS 42), pp 46-47.Gaudium Paschale!
Sr Margaret OSB
Dame
Barbara Constable, OSB († )

Dame Barbara Constable, OSB
n the seventeenth century
exiled
English nuns were reading, copying out and contemplating upon
fourteenth-century
texts, one of these being Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love.
Dame
Barbara Constable, OSB, in particular, in her clearly legible hand,
was responsible for the copying out of innumerable Augustine
Baker manuscripts, - as they are called by English Benedictine
monks.
But many of these texts are less those of Father Augustine Baker,
OSB,'s
writings, than they are of the writings of mystics which he encouraged
the English Benedictine nuns to use in their own devotional writings,
for
their own libraries for contemplation. Dame Barbara Constable in these
pages is copying out St Teresa of Avila, Henry Suso, Julian of Norwich
(whom she calls 'St Iulian') and John
Tauler. She herself never left Cambrai once she entered in 1638,
yet
her manuscripts made their way to Paris and also to the men's
Benedictine
abbeys and to the mission in England.
One reason for the great amount of copying done by Dame Barbara Constable and others at Cambrai was because of dissension amongst the English Benedictines, the nuns desiring to continue Father Augustine Baker's contemplative practices, for which he had obtained for them medieval manuscripts from Sir Robert Cotton during his time at Cambrai, 1624-1633, the monks wishing to suppress this activity and call in and censor these texts, first in 1633 and again in 1655. To prevent their loss the nuns, amidst great poverty, even established a daughter house in Paris, in 1651, taking to it duplicates of all their texts, hurriedly made out 1650-1651. Manuscripts of Julian's Showing of Love are mentioned twice in their catalogue, now in the Bibliothèque Mazarine, which was confiscated from the English nuns at the French Revolution. In 1655 the nuns defied the monks, going so far as to threaten to withdraw from the English Benedictine Congregation, rather than relinquish their books on spirituality, their most prized being Julian's Showing of Love. The nuns in Paris had already in their Consitution itself, written out both in English by Dame Clementia Cary, OSB, in English, and in French by Dame Bridget More, OSB, stated that the community would continue in the contemplative practices taught them by the Venerable Augustine Baker, OSB The English nuns in exile were preserving Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love three hundred years after it was written in Norwich and three hundred years before we ourselves - around the world - could hold her text in our hands.
Serenus Cressy, OSB, became the chaplain at the Paris daughter house for a brief period, having already strong associations with the Cary family. He published Augustine Baker's Sancta Sophia or Holy Wisdom , describing these devotional practices based on the Cloud Author's writings, William Flete's Remedies Against Temptations (thought to be by Richard Rolle) and Hilton's Scale of Perfection with its prayer of the pilgrim, 'I am nought, I have nought, I seek nought, but sweet Jesus in Jerusalem'. Cressy also published the writings of Dame Gertrude More, Dame Bridget More's sister, who had founded the Cambrai mother house. These two biological sisters were direct descendants of St Thomas More. Then in 1670 Cressy published the editio princeps, the first edition, of Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love. That text was carefully transcribed in preparation for this publication in England by these English nuns in exile in France, and to do so they collated all their manuscripts of Julian, one of them a now lost medieval exemplar to the two Sloane versions of the Long Text, another a Tudor exemplar like that of Paris, copied out by them into Stowe 42. Thus these nuns had in their possession no less than seven manuscripts in total or in part of Julian's Showing of Love, five of which still exist, two at Cambrai being lost at the Revolution.
Following the French Revolution these English Benedictine nuns returned to England, bringing some of their fine library of medieval contemplative texts with them, while other manuscript books of theirs remain in France. But the Cambrai collection was largely lost, those English Benedictines having been imprisoned at Compiègne with the French Carmelites, the latter of whom were then guillotined, the English nuns inheriting their clothing. Cambrai's Our Lady of Consolation is today Stanbrook Abbey in Worcester, Paris' Our Lady of Good Hope is St Mary's Abbey, Colwich, Stafford.
Of interest is that Dame Margaret Gascoigne and Dame Barbara Constable both present Christ's words to Julian in larger letters, a trait seen also in Westminster in one instance, and throughout in Sloane 3709. When Serenus Cressy took Stowe 42, which instead reduces these words both to differentiate them from the rest of the text, and to save paper, the printer elected to print them instead in italics. In the Paris Manuscript, which at this time was still in Rouen where the Brigittine nuns had left it in their flight in time of war to Lisbon, and to which the English Benedictines lacked all access, Christ's words to Julian are in red, rubricated, a practice familiar to the Brigittines who customarily wrote the Office books so for the next entrant into Syon Abbey following themselves.
Dame Barbara selected fine passages from Julian's Showing of Love, culling these from the Twelfth and Thirteenth Revelations and from Chapters 28, 30 and 32, then followed that selection with a discussion on the Way of Perfection as exemplified in the writings of the two Friends of God, Henry Suso and John Tauler, all of the fourteenth century.
When Hywel Wyn Owen examined the Upholland Manuscript he found it was bound in a piece of the same office book as another manuscript at Colwich, H18, which also contains a fragment from Julian's Showing of Love. This other manuscript is where Dame Bridget More, OSB, descendant of St Thomas More, copied out the contemplative anthology written originally by Dame Margaret Gascoigne, OSB, who had died at Cambrai in 1637.
This
Upholland
Manuscript
became
separated
from both Abbeys and, according to the Julian scholar, Sister
Benedicta Ward, S.L.G, who sought information concerning it, is lost.
But
Father Eric Colledge, O.S.A., had earlier given to Stanbrook a bound
photocopy
of the entire text. Because the foliation in the manuscript is
incorrect,
the verso being written not on the back of the folio but on the
subsequent
page, that given in Hywel Wyn Owen and Luke Bell's article, 'The
Upholland
Anthology: An Augustine Baker Manuscript', The Downside Review
(1989),
274-292, is also incorrect, so when I requested Dame Easnwyth Edwards,
OSB, to photocopy for me the relevant Julian pages, two are lacking.
I supply them from Hywel Wyn Owen's transcription. The remainder is
taken
directly from the photocopy of the Upholland Manuscript. It also gives
the two following pages, which are not Julian's Showing of Love,
but
instead
a discourse upon the way of perfection, citing Suso
and Tauler.

[Folio 113]
The number of the words passeth my witts and vnderstanding, and all my mights, for they were in the highest, as to my sight;
[113v]
for therein is comprehended I am not able to tell what, so that it cannot be expressed. But the ioy that I saw in the shewing of them exceedingly surpasseth all that hart can thinke, or soule may desire. And therefore these words (the meaning of them) be not declared heere; but euery one according to the grace god hath giuen him in vnderstanding and louing, let them receaue them in our lords meaning.
[114]
thought in my mind; I should haue forsaken and not haue yealded vnto it; yet neuerthelesse it caused me to mourne and sorrow without discretion. but Jesu who in this vision enformed me of all thinges that were needfull, answered by this word and sayd: Sinne is behouefull, But all shall be well. In this naked worde. Sinne. our lord brought to my mind generally all that is not good.
[114v]
compassion; That to each person that he loueth and intendeth to bring to his bliss he layeth on him something, that is to some affliction or tribulation, that is no impediment to the soule in the sight of God, therby they be humbled and despised in this world, scorned, mocked, and contemned by others And this he doth to hinder and preuent he harme which they are apt to fall into, and would incurre by the pride the pompe and the vaine glory of this wretched life, and for to their way the more readdy, and better prepare them to come to heauen, and enioy his blisse without end euerlasting for he sayth, I shall all to breake you from your vaine affections, and your vitius pride; and after that I shall gather you and make you meeke and mild, cleane and holy by uniting you to mee. And then I saw that each kind compassion that man hath one his euen Christian with charity, it is christ in him, whose loue to man made him to esteeme little of all the paines he suffered in his passion, which loue againe was shewed here in this compassion, wherin were two thinges to be understood in our lords meaning, the on was the blisse that we be
[115]
brought vnto, wherin his will is that we reioyce the other is, for our comfort in our paine and tribulation: for he will that wee know all shall turne to his worship and to our profit by the vertue of his holy passion: and that we know that wee suffered right no thing alone, but with him, and that we see him our ground. And that we see his paines and his tribulations so farre to exceed and surpasse all that we can suffer, that it cannot be fully thought or imagined. And the well beholding and considering of this will keepe vs from ouermuch trouble and despaire in the feeling of our paines, and we see verely that our sinnes deserue it, yet his loue excuseth vs, and of his great curtesy he doth away all our blames and beholdeth vs with ruth and merveilous pitty as children Innocents and vnspotted.
[115v]
we deserue of him, and the more speedy and expedient it is to our selues. And thus we may see and enioy or reioyce in that our part is our Lord. The other part is hid and shutt up, or concealed from us. that is to say, all that is besides our salluation for that is our lords priuy counsell and it belongeth to the Royall Lordship of allmighty god to haue his priuy counsels in peace. And it belongeth to his seruants for obedience and reuerence to him, not to haue or will or desire to know his counsels, Our lord hath pitty and compassion on vs, for that some creatures do busy themselues so much therein seeking and desiring to know and vnderstand the secrets of all mighty god. And I am sure if we know how much we should please him and ease ourselues to forbear it we would do it.
The saints in heaven, thay haue a will to know nothing, but that which our Lord will shew them. And also their charity and desire is ruled according to the will of our Lord. And thus ought we to haue our will like to them; Then shall we nothing will nor desire, but the will
[116]

of our lord like as they do. for we bee all one in gods meaning. And heer I was taught that I should only enioy in our Blessed Sauiour Jesu, and trust in him for all thinges.
[116v]
impossible that euer they should come to a good end. And vpon these wee looke sorrowfull and mourne therfore, so that it cannot rest in the blessedfull holding of God as we should doe. And the cause is this, that the vse of our reason and vnderstanding is now so blind & Lowe that we cannot know nor vnderstand the high mervailous wisedome, and the goodnes of the most blessed Trinity. And thus meaneth he where he sayth Thou shalt see thy selfe that all manner of thing shall be welle, as if he had seyd take or beleeue faithfully and trust fully and hearafter thou shalt see it verely and truely in fullnes of ioy. And thus in the same fiue words before sayd: I may make all thinges well I vnderstood a mighty comfort (that wee owght to take) of all the workes of our Lord god, that are to come
[The text following that giving excerpts from Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love appears to be a contemplation by Dame Barbara Constable, OSB, or from another Benedictine, and copied out by her, concerning the way of perfection as described in the conversions of the Friends of God Henry Suso and John Tauler.]
[117]
O how exceedingly are we bound to god for discouering vnto vs this way so necessary, and whereof there is so few teachers, considering also how many soules he leaueth in want thereof, and who if they knew the way, would ioyfully prosecute it: O swee Iesus. blessed for euer be thy sweet mercyes; O how vngratefull shall wee proue if wee doe not make good vse of this great blessing of thyne and why should we doubt of thy assistance in prosecution of our way since that our good god of his loue to us and out of his desire of our saluation and perfection hath extraordinarily made knowne vnto us the way, so will he not be wanting in his grace that we may bring all to a perfect end which he intended in his discovuery vnto vs of the way we hauing the way discouered vnto us if we should neglect to tread and prosecute it with perseuerance it
[117v]
had bin far better for us that we had neuer knowne it for (sayth our sauiour) the servant that knoweth the will of his master and doth it not shall be beaten with many stripes.
To come to know the way how to
serue
god in the way of perfection there is not meane but that it must come
from
god, and that by one of these two meanes either immediately from god as
was the conuersion and instructions of Suso
and
many others or from him by the meanes of some man as was the conuersion
of Thaulerus and the like hath
bin
of many other. And here Theleurus though he had his conuersion and some
instruction at the first from the Lay man, yet afterwards in his
spirituall
course he was doutles guided by the spirit of god (the lay man not
liuing
with him
Dame Gertrude More, OSB (†1632)

Permission, Ampleforth Abbey
Trustees
century later than Father
Augustine Baker's July
1624 arrival at Cambrai to give spiritual
direction
to the English Benedictine nuns there, a manuscript was written out,
July
1724, in the Paris daughter house by an anonymous English Benedictine
nun,
speaking of him as 'father Anonimus'. (This was how Father Baker styled
himself in his Life of
Gertrude More.) Cambrai's
foundation of
Our
Lady of Comfort would become
Stanbrook
Abbey, Worcestershire, and
Paris' foundation of Our Lady of Good
Hope,
Colwich
Abbey, Staffordshire, both
communities returning to England from
which
they had lived for centuries in exile, following the French Revolution.
Dame Gertrude More was the most prominent of the young English
Foundresses,
1623, of Our Lady of Comfort, dying in 1633, Dame Catherine
Gascoigne was its Abbess
from 1629-1676. This manuscript's
centennial
celebration of Father Augustine Baker's method of prayer, suppressed by
an atheist revolution, lost to its religious communities, deserves
today
being shared and used, by Stanbrook, by Colwich, and by ourselves, by
religious
and lay, women and men.
Dame Gertrude More and Dame Catherine Gascoigne both wrote defenses of Father Augustine Baker's teaching on prayer, presenting these to the General Chapter of the English Benedictine Congregation in 1633, when all their contemplative manuscripts were called in and examined at Cambrai. During this process, Dame Gertrude was stricken with smallpox and died. So persuasive were their two texts that the English Benedictine Congregation's Chapter told the surviving Dame Catherine, 'Goe on couragiously, you have choosen the best way: we beseech Allmighty God to accomplish that union which your hart desireth'. Dame Catherine was to have to resist again, in 1655, as Dom Augustine Baker had foretold them would happen, against the calling in again of all their contemplative manuscripts. On her deathbed in 1675, Dame Catherine Gascoigne appealed to the then-President of the English Congregation, Dom Benedict Stapylton for 'a new and very ample confirmation' of these writings, 'as being the greatest treasure that belongs to this poor community'. One reason for this conflict was that Father Augustine Baker had revived the medieval form of contemplation through studying and sharing such fourteenth-century texts as Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love , Walter Hilton's Scale of Perfection, William Flete's Remedies Against Temptations, The Cloud of Unknowing, and the works of the Continental Friends of God, like John Tauler and Henry Suso. What had become fashionable instead were the Jesuit Spiritual Exercises, of imaging, though these in turn reflected far more ancient practices connected with Paula's worship in Bethlehem and Calvary, oberved by Jerome, and copied by countless pilgrims to the Holy Places. Those contemplative writings were lost at the French Revolution, apart from two small manuscripts, one of these the Cloud Author's 'Epistle of Privat Counsell', that were preserved in the nuns' pockets during their imprisonment, 1793-1795, part of that time with the French Carmelite nuns, who were to be guillotined, in the Compiègne prison. These two manuscripts are now treasured at Stanbrook Abbey, along with the clothing of the executed Carmelites.
However, the Cambrai nuns had already founded a daughter house in Paris, in 1651, and had made sure that all their precious manuscripts, among them, Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love, were duplicated, many being written out by Dame Barbara Constable, OSB, who remained at Cambrai, and that these texts were taken with the nuns going to Paris, Dame Clementia Cary, their mother foundress, Dame Bridget More, their prioress. The Paris Our Lady of Good Hope carefully stated in their Constitution, in both the French (written by Dame Bridget More) and English (written by Dame Clementia Cary) versions, their desire to continue Dom Augustine's legacy of spiritual reading and writing, so doing deepening their call to the Benedictine religious life. Dom Serenus Cressy became the chaplain of the Paris nuns and saw to it that Dame Gertrude More's writings (1657,1658), including Gertrude More's defense of Augustine Baker's teachings (made at the same time as Catherine Gascoigne's), Augustine Baker's Sancta Sophia, Holy Wisdom (1657) and Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love (1670) were all printed and published. Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love's publication was under the patronage of Abbot Placid Gascoigne of Lamspringe, Dame Catherine Gascoigne's brother and likewise a Benedictine, during her lifetime (A. Allanson, Biography of the English Benedictines, Ampleforth Abbey, 1999, on Placid or John Gascoigne, as Abbot, 1651-1681), Serenus Cressy noting in his preface, 'Whatsoever benefit thou mayst reap by this Book; thou art obliged for it to a More Venerable Abbot of our Nation, by whose order and liberality it is now published, and by Consequence sufficiently Approved', the marginal note identifying the benefactor as 'The V.R.F.Jo.Guscoyn.L.Abbot of Lamb-spring'. Indeed, it is likely that Catherine Gascoigne, or her sister Margaret, brought the Julian manuscript to Cambrai in the first place. The Gascoigne family claimed Sir Thomas Gascoigne, Chancellor of Oxford and devotee of St Birgitta's Syon Abbey, as relative. The Lowes, connected with Syon Abbey from the fifteenth through the nineteenth centuries, owned Julian's Showing. Dame Margaret Gascoigne wrote about Julian's Showing, and Dame Bridget More copied her text. The Mores and Gascoignes would logically have entered Syon Abbey, then in exile in Lisbon, but for a libel published by a pirate against Syon, causing these English families with the greatest Brigittine ties, to break them and found instead Benedictine Cambrai. Thus the precious legacy of Julian of Norwich Showing of Love manuscripts changed from Brigittine cloisters to Benedictine ones, the Westminster, Amherst and Paris texts being Brigittine, Paris representing the text prepared for Tudor/Elizabethan printing by the Brigittines, the Gascoigne, Upholland, Sloane, and Stowe being Benedictine, likewise the first successfully printed edition by Serenus Cressy.
The Paris English Benedictines, as were the Cambrai English Benedictines, were imprisoned during the French Revolution, but upon finally being freed were able to negotiate the return of most of their manuscripts and books to England, where they are now to be found at Colwich Abbey. However, this manuscript, written by one of their nuns, likely found in her cell at her death as was the custom with such contemplative collections, ended up in Paris' Bibliothèque Mazarine.

Opening of Bibliothèque Mazarine 1202
This particular manuscript, dated July 23, 1724, by its scribe, an anonymous English nun in exile, is sneered at in the Paris, Bibliothèque Mazarine, Catalogue as the production of some superstitious monk. The manuscript is indeed prefaced with an engraving of a Benedictine monk kneeling in prayer, rays of light falling upon him. The cataloguer failed to notice that the anthology of contemplative writings was written by a woman whose humility conceals from us her identity, almost even her gender. This 'Colections' includes writings from Father Augustine Baker, the Friend of God John Tauler, Blessed Angela of Foligno, the Conversio Morum, Bishop of Cambray Fénelon's Letters of Siritual Direction , Dame Gertrude More, including excerpts of her defense of Father Augustine Baker made to the General Chapter of the English Benedictine Congregation in 1633, and Dame Catherine Gascoigne, again this being her defense of Father Augustine Baker's teaching on prayer presented to Chapter in 1633, when all manuscripts were called in. In this same library is also to be found the Catalogue of all their Cambrai Augustine Baker texts, listing as well Julian of Norwich's Showing of Love as 'The Revelations of Sainte Julian', as a manuscript which they owned but which was not from Dom Augustine Baker's collecting, plus another, now lost, manuscript, 'Colections outt of Holy Mo: Juilan' [sic.]. Furthermore this particular surviving 'Colections' manuscript includes a section written by the anonymous nun herself which gives near-quotations from Julian's Showing. This evidence tells us that the Paris house a century later than the Cambrai foundation was continuing to preserve, to live and to celebrate its contemplative legacy.
It is my hope that this transcription will return this important copy of their original Mother Abbess's text to these Abbeys' cloistered nuns at Stanbrook and at Colwich. It is a portion of their treasured lost inheritance. And likewise to share it not only in the cloister, but also with the world. That had been a major purpose of their contemplative copying and writing when in exile, to exercise the 'apostolate of the scribe' as their contribution to the English Mission of the Benedictine monks to the laity of their then lost homeland.
~ Nothing has my lord god left un
-done which might win me wholy to
himself, and make me to dispise my
self, and all created things for his
love. for when I sinned, he recal'd
me and forsook me not in that my

Permission, Ampleforth Abbey
Trustees
Colections D.G. 322
323 Colections D.G.
misery of offending such an infinit
goodness so shamefully, & that alsoe
after my entrance into religion,-
nay even after my proffesion in that
blessed state, the hapiness, & worth
wherof I did not yet know by which
means I grew weary of tending bear-
-ing therin his sweet yoke and
light burthen, the which is heavy
only thro our fault, & not in it self
through which default & ignorance
of mine, it became so greivous, and
intolerable to me, that I wish'd oft-
-en it might have bine shaken of from
by me pretending it was soe incom-
-patible with my good, that I could
scarcely work my salvation, in
this my state & profesion, this my
god you are wittness of was true, &
soe it did continue with me about
two years, after that I had in show
forsaken the world, & the world, ind-
-eed forsaken me, but did my lord
in these biter afflictions forsake me
no, no, but he provided such a help
for me, that quickly was my sorrow
turn'd into joy, yea into such an un-
speakable joy, that it has sweetned
all the sorows which since that time
has befalen me, for as soon as my soull
was set into a way of tending to my
god by prayer and abnegation, I found
Colections D.G. 324all my miseries presently disperse
themselves, & come to nothing; yea
even in five weeks my soull became
so enamour'd with the yoke of this -
my dear lord, þt if I must have ma
de not only four, but even four th-
ousand vows, to have become wholy
dedicated to him, I should have em-
-braced this state with more joy, and
content then ever I did find in obta-
-ining that which ever I most of all
wish'd & desir'd; yea & thou knowest
my god by my souls being put into a
course of prayer, I seem'd to have now
found a true means, wherby I might
love without end, or measure.
325
Colections
D.G.
~Woe to that soull, who over-
-come by threats, or persuasions
from without or by temptations
within her, or other occasions wt
soever gives over her mental pra
yer by mean wherof only she is ca-
-pable of diserning & folowing the
divine tract, inspiration, & will whnce
her whole good is to proceed, & ther
fore O you souls especialy that are
the more capable of internall pray-
er doe you accordingly prosecute it,
and be gratefull to god for the grace
of it, for it causeth the greatest ha-
-piness that is to be goten in this
life & an answerable hapiness, in
the future.
Colections D.G. 326327 Colections D.G.by it in this life one paseth through
all things how hard & painfull soever
they be by it we come to be familiar
even with god himself, & to have our
conversation in heaven, by it all im-
pediments will be removed between
god and the soull, by it you will receive
light & grace. for all that god would -
doe by you, by it you will come to reg-
-ard god in all things, & profitably
neglect your selves. by it you shall
know how to converse one earth
without preiudice to your selves souls,
and infine by it you will praise god
& become so united unto him, that
nothing shall be able to seperate
you for time or eternity from his
sweet goodness.
Dame
Catherine Gascoigne, OSB (†1676)

Dame Catherine Gascoigne,
Cambrai's
Abbess, in 1652
Dame Catherine Gascoigne's Defense of Father Augustine Baker's Way of Prayer
382 Coll: Lad: Cath: G. Prayer
My prayer I know not how to
express, but it seems to me to be a
longing and vehement desire of
the soull thirsting after the presence
of God, seeking and intending only
and wholy his will and pleasure
with as much purity of intention as
my imperfection will permit. it is
only exercised in the will, some
times in one maner, & sometimes
in another; according to the pres
ent disposition of the soull. now
humbling itself a 1000 times in þe
presence of god, now praising, ble
sing and adoring him, at other times
confounded at my great ingratitude
not daring as it were to appear in

D. Cath: Gas: Prayer 383384 D. Cath: Gas: Pr:his presence, or to elevate myself
towards him by love, wm I have soe
much offended, sometimes I think it
is those we call acts or aspirations,
or rather an elevation of the will tow
ards god; proceeding from an interiour
motion, & enablement to continue þe
same, yet not always with like ferv
our, for many times I find a great &
strong desire to please, and praise god
and yet am not able in any sort to doe
it, and that is my greif. but thus I see
there is no way but patience & resig-
nation, till it pleases him w° only
can enable me, when he pleases G
to doe better, for methinks the more
I strive or force my self the further
I am from it. for everything meth
-inks even thinking of good and holy
things doe rather breed images and
cause multiplicity in the soul, and
are distractions & impediments to
me in my prayer, and tendance to
wards god, so I must keep myself
in as much quietness as may be, wth
out using violence or stress, for I
find myself most drawn to that pray
er which tends to an unity, without
adhering to any perticular creature
or image; but seeking only for that
thing wch our lord said to be necesa
ry, and wch contains all things in it
self, according to that saying, Unum
sit mihi totum, id est
Omnia
in
Omnibus, hoc unum quaero,
hoc
D. Cath: G: Pr: 385386 D. Cath: Gas: Pr:unum desidero, propter unum
omnia, hoc si habuero contentus
ero, et nisi potitus fuero. semper
fluctus, quia multa me implere
non posunt, Quid hoc unum nescio
dicere, desiderare. me sentio, quo
nihill melius, nec majus est, sed nec
cogitare, potest, non enim hoc un
um inter omnia, sed unum super
omnia est. Deus meus est, cui ad-
haerere, et inhaerere bonum mihi
est. This way of tending and aspiring
towards god, by love and affection doth
in no sort, hinder a soull, from
the due performance of her other
duties and Obligations, and externall
Obediences, much less dos it cause
her to neglect, misprise, or disesteem
of her superiours, their ordinations
and exactions, (as has bine feared)
for it doth cause her to observe and
perform them with more purity of
intention and more readily and more
chearfully, regarding God in the doing
of them, rather then the works that
she doth. and a soull that is caryed
in this affectuous inclination towards
god carefully observing the divine
call and motions, and abstracting
herself from impertinencies and all
things wch doe not belong to her to
doe or undergoo. she will be able to
make use of all things, in there times
[Stanbrook: their due time]
D. Cath: Gas: pray: 387388 D. Cath: Gas: pr:times, to her advancement in spir
it. for nothing is required of us in
our state of life, but if we know how
to make right use of it, it will further
us in our way, and especially the divine
office, and service of the Quire, as be-
ing an exercise more imediatly belon
ging to the praise and worship of god.
so doe I most comonly find it a great
help and incitement therto, except
when the body is too much wearied or
otherwise indisposed and þs exercise
of love seems to be the best means to
purchase all vertues; for the soull þt
doth faithfully persue it with perse
verance, and faithfully coresponds
in the divine Grace, dos in some sort
(according to her progress in this di
vine love) exercise all vertues in
these times, for it is the way of Hum-
ility, of abnegation, of sincere obedi
-ence, of perfect submision, & subjec
-tion to god, and to every creature
for his love, and according to his
good will and pleasure, it causeth
and encreaseth in the soull, a holly
and humble confidence in god, which
does enoble her to pass thro all occuring
difficulties wth chearfulness and ala
crity, not that she shall not meett wth
difficulties (for the way of love is
the way of the cross and full of bitter
mortifications) but because she de
sires so much to please her beloved
that all things wtsoever tho never
D. Cath: Gas: Pr: 389390 D. Cath: Gas: Pr:so greivous to nature, become easy
and tolerable to her, wch may draw
more near unto him, and wtsoever
she finds to be a lett or hinderance
in her way of tendance towards him,
as fears, scruples, etc: she doth
pass them over and transcend them by
love, seeking and endeavouring always
to unite herself to god, according to
her maner, and to adher perseverantly
unto him, and although it may per
haps be esteemed a great presumption
for a soull þt has made but litle prog
ress in a spirituall course, & is full
of deffects, and imperfections, to pret
end so high an exercise, as is that of
love and aspiring towards god; yet
to me it seems to be the best way
to get true humility, nay I canot see
how tis posible for a soull by anny
other means to avoid that most detes
table sin of pride, wch so secretly -
creeps in, & intrudes itself into all
our best actions, & Holiest exercises.
but only by adhesion to god, which
excludes all pride, and all maner of
temptaion of what kind soever,
for the soull þt seeks and pretends
nothing but god, and tends towards
him in the best maner she can by sim
plicity, adhering to noe Image or
created thing, but only to god him
self there is no place for pride, &
therfore noe exercise or maner of
D: Cath Gas: Pr: 391392 D. Cath: Gas: Pr:prayer so secure for the soull, and þe
less subject to the Ilusions & deceits of
the †Divell, then this exercise of the will
which is both plain & easie for those soulls
that have an aptness and call unto it, is
faithfully prosecuting, wth the grace of
god concuring, it leads the soull through
all things wtsoever, it is the way of humi
lity, and confidence. for the soull having
continuall recourse to god by prayer is
therby enlightned to see her own nothing
and poverty, and how that she is not able
to effect any thing that is good, without
the divine assistance, butt that she must
wholly, & totally depend of God, and this
dependance, wch the soull sees herself con-
tinually to have of god; methinks it is
able to humble her even to dust, besides
the sins and imperfections to which
she is subject and often falls into. and
indeed god has many secret ways to
humble a soull, and out of his care doth
soe provide that matter of humiliation
shall never be wanting to her, if she will
but accordingly endeavour to make use
therof. and the wonderfull vouchsafe
ment of God All: to is such to a soull
þt
seeks and aymes at nothing else but to
be faithfull to him, þt it causes &
increa
-ses a great confidence in his goodness, and
his continuall care and providence to
wards her; so that for her part she
seems to have nothing else in the world
to doe, but only to endeavour to comply
with his will, and pleasure. tending
and aspiring towards him by prayer
D. Cath: Gasc: Pr: 393394 D. Cath: Gas: Pr:as he shall enable her for it by his grace,
without taking care or solicitude for
any thing that may concern her keep lea
ving herself and all things wholly to his
sweet disposition, so that her only care
is to please him, and he will sufficiently
provide for her, and for all things that may
concern her good, to wm she hath totally
left herself and all other things, after this
maner to the Divine providence; she
doth not neglect that to wch she is obli-
-ged according to her dutty and charge
for god himself takes care of all, & guides
all, and nothing is lost, but much beter
performed by leaving all to him, as thau
lerus saith In deo nihill negligetur.
and the soull proceeding in this maner
with as much simplicity as she can, seeking
after nothing but God, her confidence
dailly increases as holly scripture says,
Qui ambulat simpliciter,
ambulat
confidenter.
and she
walks one secure
-ly & quietly under the divine protection,
all things cooperating to her good, for
wtsoever doth hapen to her by gods per
-mision; dos serve to breed†still in her
true and perfect resignation & conf
ormity to the Divine will, wherby she
comes to have & enjoy betwixt God and
her soull, true internall, and solid peace,
even amidst all crosses and opositions, &
variations, that we are subject unto, in
this changeable and miserable life of ours,
which peace, & security noe creature
can give unto a soull but only god himself
and therefore happy are those soulls þt
† & Cause
vertically in margin; Stanbrook: more & more]
D. Cath: Gas: Pr: 395396 D. Cath: Gas: Prayerthat faithfully & perseverently adher
to him, with an internall regard of his
will in all things, and this plain & simple
exercise of the will, taught us by father
Anonimus tends to noe other thing, (soe, far
|as I understand it) þn þs to bring the soull
to a total subjection to god, and to others
for god.
Indeed I am not able to express wt I doe
in part conceive of the excelency & worth-
iness, of this most happy exercise, of tend-
ing aspiring towards god by love, how
be it. I have here endeavoured as well
as I could briefly and sincerely to let
my superiours know by this, how I und-
erstand and desire to practis the same.
humbly submiting myself, & all my ways
and practises, in this or wt else soever to
be corected by them, purposing &
promi
-sing by Gods Grace always to stand to
their judgment and determination, in
all things. and if your Paternities
do think it good & please to aprove it,
I do then most humbly beseech your leave
and blesing, with the assistance of yr
holly prayers, that I may prosecute it
with new fervour & diligence, for noth-
-ing does so much trouble me as my slack
-ness & negligence in it hitherto.
~
~
~
Invidia omnis
spiritualis
et carnalis
Deo Odibilis
et Anima pestis
satis subtilis
cur non recedis
Colections 397
A meo Corde
te detestante
et reluctante
contra motus tuos
valde pestiferos
et desiderante
in vera charitate
omnes Diligere. ~
to St Arsenius my Dear PatronColections labour to make all Cogitations cease.God, sent his Angell down, to let þee know
his blesed will wch so by thee, was sought
praying to him to teach þee how to goe,
that way by wch to him thou mightst be brought.
The Angell bid thee fly & silent be,
and suffer nothing to disquiet thee.
Pray that I may fly to God, & hold my peace
and being from all noyse & tumults free
Dom
Augustine Baker (†1638),
Dom
Serenus
Cressy, OSB (†1674) 'The
Parable of the Pilgrim' in Holy Wisdom, Chapter 6,
edited by Dom
Serenus Cressy from Don Augustine Baker's writings, acknowledges its
souce in Walter Hilton, Scala
Perfectionis.
'The
Parable of the Pilgrim' in Holy Wisdom, Chapter 6,
edited by Dom
Serenus Cressy from Don Augustine Baker's writings, acknowledges its
souce in Walter Hilton's Scala
Perfectionis.
Dom
Augustine Baker (†1638),
Dom
Serenus
Cressy, OSB (†1674)
Now for a further confirmation
and more effectual recommendation of what hath hitherto been delivered
touching the nature of a contemplative life in general, the superminent
nobleness of its end, the great difficulties to be expected in it, and
the absolute necessity of a firm courage to persevere and continually
to make progress in it, whatsoever it costs us (without which
resolution it is in vain to set one step forward in these ways), I will
here annex a passage extracted out of that excellent treatise called Scala Perfectionis, written by that
eminent contemplative, Dr Walter Hilton, a Carthusian Monk, in which,
under the
parable of a devout pilgrim desirous to travel to Jerusalem (which he
interprets
as the vision of peace or contemplation), he delivers instructions very
proper and efficacious touching the behaviour requisite in a devout
soul for such a journey; the true sense of which advice I will take
liberty so to deliver briefly as, notwithstanding, not to omit any
important matter there more largely, and according to the old fashion,
expressed.
The
pilgrim, overjoyed with that news, answered: 'So I may have my life
safe,
at last
come to the
place
that I above all only desire , I care
not what miseries I suffer in the
way'.
Now this same humility is to be exercised, not so much in considering thine own self, thy sinfulness and misery (though to do thus at the first be very good and profitable), but rather in a quiet loving sight of the infinite endless being and goodness of Jesus; the which behldinging of Jesus must be either through grace in a savourous felling knowledge of hi, or at least in a full and firm faith in Him. And such a beholding, when thou shalt attain to it, will work in thy mind a far more pure, spiritual, solid and perfect humility, than the former way of behlding thyself, the which produces a humility more gross, boisterous and unquiet. By that thou wilt see and feel thyself, not only to be the most wretched filthy creature in the world, but also in the very substance of thy soul (setting aside the foulness of sin) to be a mere nothing, for truly, in and of thyself and in regard to Jesus (who really and in truth is all), thou art a mere nothing; and till thou hast the love of Jesus, yea, and feelest that thou hast His love, although thou hast done to thy seeming never so many good deeds both outward and inward, yet in truth thou hast nothing at all, for nothing will abide in thy soul and fill it but the love of Jesus. Therefore, cast all other things behind thee, and forget them, that thou mayest have that which is best of all; and thus doing, thou wilt beome a true pilgrim that leaves behind him houses, and wife, and children, and friends, and goods, and makes himself poor and bare of all things, that he may go on his journey lightly and merrily without hindrance.
'Well,
now
thou
art
in thy way travelling towards Jerusalem; the which travelling
consists in working
inwardly, and (when need is) outwardly too, such works as are suitable
to thy condition and state, and such as will help and increase in thee
this gracious desire that thou hast to love Jesus only. Let thy works
be what they will, thinking,
or
reading, or preaching or labouring, etc.; if thou findest that they
draw thy mind from worldly vanity, and confirm thy heart and will more
to the love of Jesus, it is good and profitable for thee to use them.
And if thou findest that through
custom such works do in time lose their savour and virtue to increase
this love, and it seems to thee that thou feelest more grace and
spiritual profit in some other, take these other and leave those, for
though the inclination and desire of thy heart to Jesus must ever
be
unchangeable, nevertheless thy spiritual works thouu shalt use in thy
manner of praying, reading, etc., to the end to feed and strengthen
this desire, may well be changed, according as thou feelest thyself by
grace disposed in the applying of thy heart. Bind not thyself,
therefore, unchangeably to voluntary customs, for that will hinder the
freedom of thy heart to love Jesus, if grace would visit thee specially.
'Before
thou
has
made many steps in the way, thou must expect a world of
enemies of several kinds, that will beset thee roun about, and all of
them will endeavour busily to hinder thee from going forward; yea, and
if they can by any means, they will, either by persuasions, flatteries,
or violence, force thee to return home again to those vanities that
thou hast forsaken. For there is nothing grieves them so much as to see
a resolute desire in thy heart to love Jesus, and to travail to find
Him. Therefore they will all conspire to put out of thy heart that good
desire and love in which all virtues are comprised.
'Thy
first
enemies
that will assult thee will be fleshly desires and vain
fears of thy corrupt heart; and with these there will join unclean
spirits, that with sights and temptations will seek to allure thy heart
to them, and to withdraw it from Jesus. But whatsoever they say,
believe them not; but betake thyself to thy old only secure remedy,
answering ever thus, I am nought, I
have nought, and I desire nought, but only the love of Jesus,
and so hold forth on thy way desiring Jesus only.
'If
they
endeavour
to put dreads and scruples into thy mind, and would make
thee belief that thou hast not done penance enough, as thou oughtest
for thy sins, but that some old sins remain in thy heart not yet
confessed, or not sufficiently confessed and absolved, and that
therefore thou must needs return home and do penance better before thou
have the boldness to go to Jesus, do not beleive a word of all that
they say, for thou art sufficiently acquitted of thy sins, and there is
no need at all that thou shouldst stay to ransack thy conscience, for
this will now but do thee harm, and either put thee quite out of thy
way or at least unprofitably delay thy travailing in it.
'If
they
shall
tell thee that thou art not worthy to have the love of
Jesus, or to see Jesus, and therefore that thou oughtest not to be so
presumptious to desire and seek after it, believe them not, but go on
and say: It is not because I am worthy, but because I am unworthy, that
I therefore desire to have the love of Jesus, for if once I had it, it
would make me worthy. I will therefore never cease desiring it till I
have obtained it. For, for it only was I created, therefore, say and do
what you will, I will desire it continually, I will never cease to pray
for it, and so doing I hope to obtain it.
'If
thou
meetest
with any that seem friends unto thee, and that in kindness
would stop thy progress by entertaining thee, and seeking to draw thee
to sensual mirth by vain discourses and carnal solaces, whereby thou
wilt be in danger to forget thy pilgrimage, give a deaf ear to them,
answer them not; think only on this, That
thou
wouldest
fain be at Jerusalem. And if they proffer thee
gifts and preferments, heed them not, but think ever on Jerusalem.
'And
if
men
despise thee, or lay any false calumnies to thy charge, giving
thee ill names; if they go about to defraud thee or rob thee; yea, if
they beat thee and use thee despitefully and cruelly, for thy life
content not with them, strive not against them, nor be angry with them,
but content thyself with the harm received, and go on quietly as if
nought were done, that thou take no further harm; think only on this,
that to be at Jerusalem deserves to be purchased with all this
ill-usage or more, and that there thou shalt be sufficiently repaired
for all thy losses, and recompensed for all hard usages by the way.
'If
thine
enemies
see that thou growest courageous and bold, and that thou
will neither be seduced by flatteries nor disheartened with the pains
and troubles of thy journey, but rather well cotnented with them, then
they will begin to be afraid of thee; yet for all that, they will never
cease pursuing thee - they will follow thee all along the way, watching
all advantages against thee, and ever and anon they will set upon thee,
seeking either with flatteries or frights to stop thee, and drive thee
back if they can. But fear them not; hold on thy way, and have nothing
in thy mind but Jerusalem and Jesus, whom thou wilt find there.
'If
thy
desire
of Jesus still continues and grows more strong, so that it
makes thee to go on thy ways courageously, they will then tell thee
that it may very well happen that thou wilt fall into coprporal
sickness, and perhaps such a sickness as will bring strange fancies
into thy mind, and melancholic apprehensions; or perhaps thou wilt fall
into great want, and no man will offer to help thee, by occasion of
which misfortunes thou wilt be grievously tempted by thy ghostly
enemies, the which will then insult over thee, and tell thee that thy
folly and proud presumption have brought thee to this miserable pass,
that thou canst neither help thyself, nor will any man help thee, but
rather hinder those that would. And all this they will do to the end to
increase thy melancholic and unquiet apprehensions, or to provoke thee
to anger or malice against thy Christian brethren, or to murmur against
Jesus, who, perhaps for thy trial, seems to hide His face from thee.
But still neglect all these suggestions as though thou heardest them
not. Be angry with nobody but thyself. And as for all thy diseases,
poverty, and whatsoever other sufferings (for who can reckon all that
may befall thee?), take Jesus in thy mind, think on this lesson that
thou art taught, and say, I am
nought, I have nought, I care for nought in this world, and I desire
nought but the love of Jesus, that I may see him in peace in Jerusalem.
'But
if
it
shall happen sometimes, as likely it will, that through some of
these temptations and thy own frailty, thou stumble and perhaps fall
down, and get some harm thereby, or that thou for some time be turned a
little out of the right way, as soon as possibly may be come again to
thyself, get up again and return into the right way, using such
remedies for thy hurt as as the Church ordains; and do not trouble
thyself
over much or over long with thinking unquietly on thy past misfortune
and pain - abide not in such thoughts, for that will do thee more harm,
and give advantage to thine enemies. Therefore, make haste to go on in
thy travail and working again, as if nothing had happened. Keep but
Jesus in thy mind, and a
desire to gain his love, and nothing shall be
able to hurt thee.
'At
last,
when
thine enemies perceive that thy will to Jesus is so strong
that thou wilt not spare neither for poverty nor mischief, for sickness
nor fancies, or doubts nor fears, or life nor death, no, nor for
sins neither, but ever forth thou wilt go on with that one thing of
seeking the love of Jesus, and with nothing else; and that thou
despisest and scarce markest anything that they say to the contrary,
but holdest on in thy praying and other spiritual works (yet always
with discretion and submission), then they grow even enraged, and will
spare no manner of most cruel usage. They will come closer to thee than
ever before, and betake themselves to their last and most dangerous
assult, and that is, to bring into the sight of thy mind all thy good
deeds and virtues, showing thee that all men praise thee, and love
thee, and bear thee great veneration for thy sanctity, etc. And all
this they do to the end to raise vain joy and pride in thy heart. But
if thou tenderest thy life, thou wilt hold all this flattery and
falsehood to be a deadly poison to thy soul, mingled with honey;
therefore, away with it; caste it from thee, saying, thou wilt have
none of it, but thou wouldest be at Jerusalem,
'And
to
the
end, to put thyself out of the danger and reach of all such
temptations, suffer not thy thoughts willingly to run about the world,
but draw them all inwards, fixing them upon one only thing, which is
Jesus; set thyself to think
only on Him, to know Him, to love Him; and
after thou hast for a good time brought thyself to do thus, then
whatsoever thou seest or feelest inwardly that is not He, will be
unwelcome and painful to thee, because it will stand in thy way to the
seeing and seeking of Him whom thou only desirest.
'But
yet,
if
there be any work or outward business which thou art obliged to
do, or that charity or present necessity requires of thee, either
concerning thyself or thy Christian brother, fail not to do it:
despatch it as well and as soon as well thou canst, and let it not
tarry long in thy thoughts, for it will but hinder thee in thy
principal business. But if it be any other matter of no necessity, or
that concerns thee not in particular, trouble not thyself nor distract
thy thoughts about it, but rid it quickly out of thy heart, saying
still thus, I am nought, I can do
nought, I have nought, and nought do
I desire to have, but only Jesus and his love.
'Thou
wilt
be
forced, as all other pilgrims are, to take ofttimes, by the
way,
refreshments, meats and drink and sleep, yea, and sometimes innocent
recreations; in all which things use discretion, and take heed of a
foolish scrupulosity about them. Fear not that they will be much a
hindrance to thee, for though they seem to stay thee for a while, they
will further thee and give thee strength to walk on more courageously
for a good long time after.
'To
conclude,
remember
that thy principal aims, and indeed only business,
is to knit thy thoughts to the desire of Jesus - to strengthen this
desire daily by prayer and other spiritual workings, to the end it may
never go out of thy heart. And whatsoever thou findest proper to
increase that desire, be it praying or reading, speaking or being
silent, travailing or reposing, make use of it for the time, as long as
thy soul finds savour in it, and as long as it increases this desire of
having or enjoying nothing but the love of Jesus, and the blessed sight
of Jesus in true peace in
Jerusale; and be assured that this good
desire thus cherished and continually increased will bring thee safe
unto the end of thy pilgrimage'.
This is the substance of the parable of the Spiritual Pilgrim travailing in the ways of contemplation; the which I have more largely set down because, but the contexture of it, not only we see confirmed what is already written before, but also we have a draught and scheme represented, according to which all the following instructions will be conformably answerable.
A
Benedictine
Nun
in Exile
A
hundred
years
later than Dom Augustine Baker's spiritual directorship
of the Cambrai nuns a nun in their Paris daughter house wrote the
following into her eighteenth-century manuscript book, now in the
Bibliothèque Mazarine, where its cataloguer sneers at it for
being 'monkish superstion':
{
My God, above
all
blesings
grant me a true peace in you
and above all curses remove
far from me a false peace in
creatures.
Title
page
{ It is internity or recolectednes.
P.
14
{
On a certain
time
while I pray'd in my Cell, these words were sayd
unto me interiorly by God.
Pp.
21-22
{ Reflect that you carry the gift of God in an earthern vessel.
P.23
{
O my
beginning,
when
shall I return to thee and putting off whatsoever
I have been formerly, be
transformed
into thee.
P.
296
{ Take my self and all and give me that one in which is all things.
P.
296
{
O let my
Creator
come
into his tabernacle and temple, where he may
remain Lord and king.
P.
296
{
My God I
consecrate
myself to you alone, for the whole remnant of my life,
to persue the exercises of an
internal
life: leaving the fruit and success of
my endeavours to your holy will.
P.
303
{ She speaks of 'desolations, obscurity of mind, & deadness of affections'.
P.
304
{ I doe renounce solicitude to please others; or to gain the affections of any to myself.
P.
304
{
Oh that I had
kept
inviolately the faith I promised you on my profession day when
in the presence of angells and
men, of the whole triumphant or militant church,
in the sight of celestial, or
terestials
I was solemnly espoused to you my God.
P.
333
{
O eternall God,
who
hast loved me from all eternity, I am resolved to love you
the short time which remains of
my life, to the end I may love you for all eternity.
P.
363
{
Jesus, my God,
when
shall I become a holocaust of love to you, who made your
soul an offering for sin, for my
salvation.
P.
366
{
Foolish is that
Religious
who having broken the chains of gold and silver
which make so many captives in
the world, lets herself be bound in Religion
with threads of flax, I mean with
toys, or things of nothing.
P.
371
'Coll: Lady Cath[erine] G[ascoigne's] Prayer:
{ To St Arsenius , my dear Patron:
{
The Angel bid
the
flye, silent be
and suffer nothing to disquiet
thee.
Often hath I repented to have
spoken,
never to have been silent, said
St Arsenius
Epilogue
utta
l'immensità
l'unità
che
tutto
trascende
lo
spirito
santo
è:
il
dono
che
dall'abisso s'effonde
e
penetra tutto
e
di sè indivisibile e uno
tutte
le
cose
riempie
e
tutte in una luce trasforma.
essun
uomo, nessuna creatura,
nulla
nel
cielo
e sopra la terra
ti
adora
più:
nessuno
ti
conosca
o ti ammiri,
nessuno
ti
serva,
ti ami,
illuminato
dallo
spirito,
battezzato
nel
fuoco,
chiunque
tu
sia:
laico,
vergine,
sacerdote,
tu
sei
trono
di Dio,
sei
la
dimora,
sei lo strumento,
sei la luce della divinita' .
.
. .
+++ Dal Cantico di San Sergio di Radonez, Patrono della Russia, 1314-1392.

Просвещенный Духом,
огнем крещенный,
- девственник,
священник, монах -
престол ты Божий:
Fathers
Robert Llewellyn and John Clark, both Anglican priests, have understood
and
valued the concepts of Mary's Dowry and the English Mission,
Father
Robert
having been Guardian of the Julian Shrine in Norwich and writing such
contemplative theology as With Pity, Not
with Blame, explaining for modern readers both Julian
and the Cloud Author, while Rev Dr John Clark,
who lives in the Dream of the Rood's
country, has edited Walter Hilton and Father Augustine Baker. I have
been privileged with the friendship of both of them, particularly, in
the latter case, through the kindness of Dr James Hogg, former
Carthusian, and Editor of the Analecta Carthusiana which he publishes
in Salzburg. Meanwhile, I have shared my researches with Syon Abbey,
with St Mary's Abbey, Colwich, and with Stanbrook Abbey, these Abbeys
that returned to England from their long exile, bringing with them,
too, the manuscripts they were able to save from the French Revolution
and Napoleon's depradations. Hermits must be self-supporting. I now,
like Julian, and like the Desert Fathers and Mothers before her, live
in a graveyard, in Florence's Swiss-owned so-called 'English' Cemetery,
caring for it in exchange for having space for an ecumenical library
concentrating on the contemplatives down the ages, Augustinians,
Benedictines, Brigittines, Carmelites, Carthusians, Cistercians,
Franciscans and Clarissans, Hermits, Anchoresses, Beguines, and
Anglicans and Quakers and others as well, their treble and bass voices
enshrined in print and now published as well electronically on the
World Wide Web, giving Christ's 'Good News'.
_________ and Heloise.
The
Letters
of
Abelard
and Heloise. Trans. Betty Radice. Harmondsworth: Penguin,
1974.
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Acta Sanctorum quotquot toto orbe coluntur . Ed. Joannes Bollandus and Godefridus Henschenius. 'S. Francesca Romana, Fundatrice Oblatorum Turris Speculorum', Martiis II/9 March (Antwerp: Johannem Meursium, 1647), 88-216; 'S. Catharina Svecica, Filia S. Birgittae', Martiis III: 24 March (Antwerp: Jacobum Meursium, 1647), 503-531; 'Clara Gambacorta', Aprilis II/17 April (Antwerp: Michael Cnobarum, 1685), 506-519; ' Catharina Senesi, Virgine de Poenitentia S. Dominici', Aprilis III/30 April, (Paris and Rome: Victorem Palméa, 1866), 861-986; 'De S. Birgitta vidua Romae', Octobris IV/8 October, 368-560 (Bruxelles: Typis Regiis, 1780), 368-560. [Cited in Notes as ASS.]
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Powers
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the
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Michael Alexander. The Earliest English Poems. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1966.
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Hope Emily Allen. Writings Ascribed to Richard Rolle , Hermit of Hampole, and Materials for his Biography. London: Oxford University Press, 1927.
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_________. Alphabet
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I-III
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_________. Directions
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_________. Directions
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Book
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1999.
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_________. Directions
for
Contemplation.
Book
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Institut
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2000.
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_________. Doubts
and
Calls. Ed. John
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Anglistik
und Amerikanistik Universität Salzburg, 1998.
_________. A
Secure Stay in all Temptations.
Ed.
John Clark. Analecta Cartusiana 119.8, ed. James Hogg. Salzburg:
Institut
für Anglistik und Amerikanistik Universität Salzburg,
1999.
_________. Secretum. Introduction and Notes, John Clark. Analecta Cartusiana 119.20, ed. James Hogg. Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik Universität Salzburg, 2003.
_________. Secretum. Ed. John Clark. Analecta Cartusiana 119.7, ed. James Hogg. Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik Universität Salzburg, 1997.
_________. A Spiritual Treatise . . . Called A.B.C. Ed. John Clark. Analecta Cartusiana 119.17, ed. James Hogg. Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik Universität Salzburg, 2001. James Hogg, Salzburg, 2006.
_________. Vox
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2004.
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__________________. How We Survived the French Revolution: Monastery of Our Lady of Good Hope, Paris, St Mary's Abbey, Colwich . Colwich: St. Mary's Abbey, 1995.
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