Reading Julian of Norwich for my course on medieval female mystics has been an unexpected sacred gift as Holy Week and Easter draw near. As a 14th-century anchoress with one window to the church and one window to the world, Julian inhabited a world devastated by plague, war, hunger, famine, political unrest, and religious dissension. Amid such profound anguish, she writes of receiving sixteen vivid visions of the passion of Christ.
Now—true confession—I have often found theologies that focus on the passion of Christ difficult to embrace. They risk a glorification of suffering. They too frequently depict a God who demands a debt to be paid or the necessity of a sacrifice or suffering to bring redemption. I find it hard to square such a God with the God of Shalom in whom “steadfast love and faithfulness meet and righteousness and peace kiss” (Ps 85:10).
Julian’s sixteen visions delineate graphically gruesome depictions of Christ on the cross. One might easily dismiss these as a glorification and unhealthy preoccupation with Christ’s suffering. Yet, such completely misses Julian’s purpose. In her steady, unceasing gaze upon Christ’s passion, Julian is not attempting to make suffering meaningful. Rather, she invites us to discipline ourselves not to look away from the suffering of those around us. She bids us to resist the wicked habits that condition us to find some more comfortable place to rest our gaze.
In a world shattered by devastating wars, widespread ideological divides with dire consequences, and scarcity of resources for basic, daily life—circumstances that sound eerily familiar—Julian encountered a God of intimate compassion who stands in radical solidarity with human suffering, seeking to bear its burdens and to shape a community who refuses to avert their eyes until such suffering has ceased. To be Easter people is not to be a triumphal, conquering people. To be Easter people is to be a people of compassion and radical love who stand in the gap between Good Friday and Easter, vigilant to be fully present to and for one another, to see and not look away, to walk with the wounded, remain with the weary, and witness to resurrection.
– G. Sujin Pak, dean