The life of Julian of Norwich came across my horizon recently. She is a key character in a story I’m working on. I have to say Julian was a wonderful woman who I greatly admire and in whose life I find inspiration. She lived the life of an anchoress which means to be monastic. Her life of prayerful quiet contemplation and intercession played out in a room with three windows. Imagine such commitment to an identified calling that you would reduce your world to a room with three windows!
One of those windows looked into the church. You see Julian’s room was an appendage or extension on the church building. Not quite as well designed but like a granny flat. This window into the church meant Julian could receive communion, see and hear other worshipers and of course be part of that community. One window was ultimately a serving hatch. It was through this opening that food, clothes and given it was the 1300s the en-suite where a bucket passed through the window.
I’ve been thinking about those windows, about how important it can be to have a relationship with the church but that on occasions it’s nice to do so at a distance. Many of us have taken to Zoom church. On Sunday my laptop screen is like Julian’s window, it gives me access to join other worshipers but from my living room. No matter how well read we are or independent in thought, it seems to me that we grow spiritually when we are exposed to the wider spiritual life found in others. My body is the same – it needs some sustenance to thrive. Hers came through that window where all her physical needs were met.
That other window, the third one, opened out onto the road. Julian could observe the life of the community outside her world as it were. Life, in all its glory and in all its gory detail passed by her window pausing to involve her. People would ask for counsel or prayer. Julian could spend hours on her knees praying for the most ordinary things for the ordinary passers-by. This window onto the community earthed Julian, it grounded her in the comings and goings of life and was a place where she gave herself out.
There is a wonderful and somewhat sobering picture here. You and I have a spirituality and physicality which needs sustenance. We draw in through the windows that feed us, like Julian we might reach into the church and receive food for the soul. We reach into the fridge and feed our body. Yet this seems only to be two thirds of our story. Have you noticed this past year that many people have found new and creative ways to give out to the community albeit from a limited situation like Julian in her little cell.
I wonder if unknowingly our time of lockdowns and restrictions this past year has helped to rebalance where we draw in and where we give out? Reading about Julian of Norwich I’m discovering once again that a kind word and listening ear and an honest prayer are valuable ways we can give out. Where’s your window onto the community?
Rob Wykes 