On Being a Lover and a Warrior
Have you ever called yourself a prophet? Or a mystic? Perhaps it is time to do so. These terms speak of our deeper selves, our truer selves, our “noblest” selves.
According to Rabbi Abraham Heschel, there is a prophet “in the recesses of every human being.” That means we must each dig deep to find the prophet in us. But what is the work of the prophet? Heschel believes it is “to interfere.” There’s a lot to interfere with today, isn’t there? The internalized oppression that society or individuals sometimes foist on us. The bad news that we are not enough or adequate or have nothing to give. The denial of climate change, of racism, of sexism, of misogyny. The thinking only of oneself in a time of coronavirus. To stand up to such expressions of injustice and cop-outs is what prophets do. Prophets say, “No! We can do better than this.”
American philosopher William Hocking said, “the prophet is the mystic in action.” So, what’s a mystic? Why should we be one of those?
A mystic is a lover. A mystic digs deep to find the place in us where—when all the noise stops—we encounter what we deeply love. A time of coronavirus and climate change like ours can compel us to remake our inner landscape because we ask: “What really matters? What do I really love? What is worth working for?”
Like the prophet, the mystic is in touch with her or his “recesses.” There lies a lover inside each of us. The mystic and prophet work in tandem—the mystic loves deeply and the prophet defends what one cherishes thereby arousing the warrior energy, that part of us that is willing to stand up and be counted.
One noteworthy mystic for our times is Julian of Norwich. Julian lived through the worst pandemic in European history—the Bubonic plague that killed between 40 to 50 percent of the population in the 14th century, which very likely included her husband and child. Julian was the first woman to write a book in English (though it was not published for 300 years—a long time to wait for your first book review, I would propose). When the book did appear, it was widely ignored because she did not fit the mood of pessimism and anthropocentrism (what Pope Francis has called our species “narcissism”) or patriarchy that has so dominated Western culture from the 14th century on.
Julian shares 16 visions she received during a near death experience when she was 30 years old—and she lived into her eighties. Like many shamans, Julian journeyed into a deep place of loss and rupture, but she returned with a message for healing the larger community: Don’t be in denial about the deep suffering a pandemic brings. At the same time, don’t dwell incessantly on the grief and pain. As she puts it, she wanted each of us to go deeper and look within— to “be a gardener, dig and ditch and seek the deepness” in oneself.
What do we learn when we go deeper? We learn that goodness and joy, reverence and gratitude, are everywhere. That love holds the universe together. As Julian says, “The first good thing is the goodness of nature” and “the goodness in nature is God.” We are all born into a “birthright of never-ending joy.”
Julian stood up strongly against patriarchy by insisting on the “motherhood of God” and rejecting the dualism of body and soul which is basic to patriarchy. She talks of “a glorious union between the soul and the body.” She invites us to turn from making war with our bodies and the earth to celebrating our time here.
Inspired by Julian, this is our time to look deeper.
Matthew Fox’s most recent book is Julian of Norwich: Wisdom in a Time of Pandemic—and Beyond.
Praise for Father Fox’s book: “Thanks to Matthew Fox, we can find a friend in Julian of Norwich, exactly the mental, emotional, and spiritual vaccine we need now.” —Gloria Steinem, Internationally recognized feminist leader, journalist and social and political activist.
Order the book here.
