And All Shall Be Well

 "All shall be well, 

and all shall be well,

 and all manner of thing shall be well,"

Julian of Norwich  

(1342-1416+)

In the fourteenth century, a woman named Julian was living the solitary life of an anchoress.

An anchoress was a woman vowed to chastity and stability of abode. She was enclosed in a cell until her death. Her life’s purpose being contemplation and unceasing prayer focused on God.

Her cell was one hundred square feet with three windows for viewing the sacrament and taking communion. 

There Julian lived and prayed, ate her meals and slept, worked at some simple task such as needlework, meditated on her revelations and wrote her book for the next twenty, thirty, perhaps forty years, never leaving the cell.

At age 30 she was struck with severe illness, nearly dying.

A priest called to her bedside to administer the last rites, held up a crucifix before her face.

Suddenly, she felt all pain cease.

During the illness, she received 15 visions of God and reflected on their meaning for the next 20 years in a book she wrote, Showings of the Revelations of God’s Love.

During the time she wrote, medieval England was facing trying times with economic collapse, bubonic plague, and dynastic wars such as the Hundred Year’s Wars.

People were experiencing anxiety, fear, pessimism, and God’s punishment.

As Julian was writing, even in the suffering illness and pain, God said to her: “All will be well. You will see it yourself, that every kind of thing will be well.”

Our times have very different categories of suffering.

We’re struggling through stressful times: economic uncertainty, anxiety, food insecurity, and fear.

God’s powerful words of hope for Julian are just as powerful and certain, and hopeful for us.

 “And all will be well.  In all manner of things, all will be well. 

The Unknown Day and Hour

Preti, Mattia, 1613-1699

Therefore you also must be ready, 

for the Son of Man is coming 

at an hour you do not expect.

(from Matthew 24:36-44)

Never, perhaps, has this Advent gospel been timelier. “Watch!” Jesus says in the closing to his apocalyptic warning.

It's timely as our North American culture becomes increasingly secular and “mainline” churches are shrinking, being sold for condos and housing, or abandoned.

But even where the church is thriving—in many parts of Asia and Africa, for instance—violence that denies the peace of Christ, along with the suppression of Christian faith, is real. 

Whatever the situation Jesus tells us to “stay awake”—to keep eyes, hearts, hands, and minds on the hope of his coming.

Since we don’t know when “the day of the Lord” is coming we need to keep watching, working, and living by grace.

My way of working and watching in hope is through feeding those who are hungry.

Each Sunday, before the beginning of our worship, I see people bringing food donations and placing them in the “Food Pantry” container.

Perhaps the greatest sign of hope for me was the parishioner who, each Sunday, carried his oxygen pump along with his food donation, and placed the food in the container.

He did this until he could no longer attend worship.

Stay awake!!!

Unmerited Grace

 On December 7, 1941, Ens. Maurice was performing his duties when fighter planes flew overhead dropping bombs attacking and sinking ships.

He stayed at his post until his battleship was hit and he abandoned ship barely making it to safety.

In the Spring of 1995, a small group of Japanese people raising funds for a school asked to stay with members of our church.

Maurice was one of the members who housed them.

You know, what happened here is pretty amazing.

Maurice, who once barely survived an attack from Japanese planes during the war, later opened his home to a group of Japanese visitors.

By choosing kindness over old hurts, he showed how forgiveness can start with simple actions.

It’s proof that even small gestures—like welcoming someone—can help heal old wounds and bring people together.

This is what Christ’s reign really looks like in humility and sacrifice.

As Christians we are expected to extend God’s grace around us, even when it seems difficult.

Sometimes, when extending grace seems impossible and too costly, is when Christ on the cross becomes a challenge to reach beyond our comfort zone and offer mercy.

By embracing Christ’s radical call to love, we can transform spaces marked by pain and division into places of hope and restoration.

This assurance of grace is freely given empowers us to mend what has been broken and allows us to be active participants in the healing work of Christ.