SOURCE: "The Parable of the Lord and Servant and the Doctrine of Original Sin" in Julian of Norwich's "Showings": From Vision to Book, Princeton University Press, 1994, pp. 83-106.

[In the excerpt that follows, Baker examines several of Julian's revelations in detail, focusing on the vision that derived from the biblical parable of the Lord and the Servant. The critic suggests that Julian's interpretation of this vision diverges from traditional emphasis on sin and punishment, and instead uses the story to demonstrate forgiveness and redemption.]

One of the most striking features of Julian of Norwich's solution to the problem of evil is her refusal to attribute wrath to God. She insists in Revelation Thirteen that God ascribes "no maner of blame to me ne to none that shalle be safe" (13.27.407) ["no kind of blame to me or to anyone who will be saved" (225)]. And she commences Revelation Fourteen by acknowledging that her showings seem to contradict the teachings of the church in regard to God's attitude toward sinners. In rejecting the depiction of God as wrathful, Julian calls into question a central premise of orthodox medieval theodicy. Claiming that "whatever is called evil is either sin or the punishment of sin,"' Augustine's solution to the problem of evil concentrates on justifying God's retribution against those who transgress divine injunctions. Invoking a juridical paradigm, Aurgustine argues: "Sinners are ordained to punishment. This order is contrary to their nature, and is therefore penalty. But it suits their fault and is therefore just."² Drawing on the rhetoric of the Old Testament and the Pauline Epistles, medieval teachings about sin follow Augustine in portraying God as wrathful in his reprisals against the wicked.

The fear of such a wrathful judge pervades the medieval preoccupation with penance. Following the Fourth Lateran Council's decree in 1215 that all the faithful confess their sins at least once a year, the themes of guilt and punishment came to dominate verbal and visual pastoral instruction. A complex ecclesiastical apparatus developed based on "the conviction that God the Creditor kept an exact account of every sin and every debt."³ Summae for confessors and manuals for penitents, designed to aid in the examination of conscience and the assessment of culpability, proliferated. To the sculptural programs of the virtues and vices developed in the high Middle Ages were added the more macabre images of the dead and dying in the late medieval period.⁴ And the relief of the Last Judgment usually found on the tympanum over thewest portal of the Gothic cathedral warned the faithful of the horrifying torments that those who die in sin will suffer eternally.⁵ Based on a survey of similar evidence, Jean Delumeau concludes, "To thus re-create the image of God as it was proposed by theologians leads to the very heart of a history of mentalities, which reveals a link between the devaluation of a horribly sinful humanity and the rigor of the Supreme Judge."⁶

Although medieval theologians, in contrast to the uneducated laity, recognized that their characterization of God as wrathful was metaphoric, they insisted on the legal paradigm informing the orthodox Augustinian solution to the problem of evil. Augustine himself, explaining that Scripture often uses "words which even the most simple customarily use among themselves," concedes that God punishes without passion. "Because it is very difficult for a man to avenge something without experiencing anger, the authors of Scripture have decided to use the name wrath for God's vengeance, although God's vengeance is exercised with absolutely no such emotion."⁷ Aquinas, likewise, acknowledges, "In attributing anger to God what is signified is not an emotion but a just judgment and the will to punish sin."⁸ While both theologians deny that God feels anger, they nonetheless continue to regard the deity as punitive. The characterization of God as wrathful, despite its figurative status, thus betrays the juridical economy of human transgression and divine retribution informing Augustinian theodicy.

This theology of retribution troubled Julian of Norwich. She was not upset, as might be expected, by a fear of punishment, but rather by the depiction of God as wrathful. Without denying human sinfulness, Julian refuses to attribute to God the malevolence toward sinners that is characteristic of Augustinian theodicy. She admits that her showing seems to contradict the church's teachings and that this contradiction poses a dilemma for her. Referring to the two different perspectives from which humankind is judged, she writes:

The furst dome, whych is of goddes ryghtfulnes, and that is of his owne hygh endlesse loue, and that is that feyer swete dome that was shewed in alle the feyer revelation in whych I saw hym assign(e) to vs no maner of blame. And though theyse were swete and delectable, 3ytt only in the beholdyng of this I culde nott be fulle esyd, and that was for the dome of holy chyrch, whych I had before vnderstondyn and was contynually in my syght. And therefore by this dome me thought that me behovyth nedys to know my selfe a synner. And by the same dome I vnderstode that synners be sometyme wurthy blame and wrath, and theyse two culde I nott see in god. And therfore my desyer was more than I can or may telle, for the hygher dome god shewed hym selfe in the same tyme, and therfore (m)e behovyd nedys to take it. And the lower dome was lemyd me beforetyme in holy chyrche, and therfore I myght nott by no weye leue the lower dome. (14.45.487-88)

[The first judgment, which is from God's justice, is from his own great endless love, and that is that fair, sweet judgment which was shown in all the fair revelation in which I saw him assign to us no kind of blame. And though this was sweet and delectable, I could not be fully comforted only by contemplating it, and that was because of the judgment of Holy Church, which I had understood before, and which was continually in my sight. And therefore it seemed to me that by this judgment I must necessarily know myself a sinner. And by the same judgment I understood that sinners sometimes deserve blame and wrath, and I could not see these two in God, and therefore my desire was more than I can or may tell, because of the higher judgment which God himself revealed at the same time, and therefore I had of necessity to accept it. And the lower judgment had previously been taught me in Holy Church, and therefore I could not in any way ignore the lower judgment. (257)]

The discrepancy between her vision and the teachings of the church perplexed Julian. Although the resolution to her dilemma was revealed in "a mervelous example of a lorde and of a seruannt, as I shall sey after, and that full mystely shewed" (14.45.488) ["a wonderful example of a lord and a servant, as I shall tell later, and that was very mysteriously revealed" (257)], she confesses that it took her two decades of reflection to achieve an understanding of its meaning.

The difficulty that Julian must have had in comprehending this example is corroborated by her silence about all but the first three chapters of Revelation Fourteen in the summary of the showings she gives in chapter 1 of the long text; her failure to mention either the parable of the lord and servant or the idea of Jesus as Mother suggests that most of this revelation was composed during her second revision of the short text.⁹ Nonetheless, as I will demonstrate in this chapter and the next, Revelation Fourteen completes the teleological theodicy that Julian commences in Revelation Thirteen. In the last ten chapters of Revelation Fourteen, she offers an ontological confirmation of her theodicy by developing an anthropology derived from mystical theology. In chapters 45 through 52 she expresses her disagreement with Augustinian premises about the nature of sin and the character of God's response to it.

The parable of the lord and servant in chapter 51 of Revelation Fourteen is the linchpin of Julian's solution to the problem of evil. Through this parable she offers an alternative to the doctrine of original sin crucial to Augustine's juridical theodicy. Based on his reading of Genesis 3 and Romans 5, Augustine proposes a theory of original sin to account for the depravity of the willthat, he believes, renders individuals inevitably wicked but nonetheless culpable. By attributing the eruption of evil in creation to the free acts of rational creatures, angelic and human, who chose to disobey divine injunctions, Augustine and his medieval successors exonerate the all-knowing, all-good, and all-powerful Creator. Because Adam and Eve deliberately transgressed, God justly punishes their descendants, who inherit both guilt and weakness as a result of the original sin.

Julian's parable of the lord and servant revises the prevailing Augustinian reading of Genesis 3 and epitomizes her opposition to retributive theodicy. Augustine's interpretation is primarily etiological; hers, teleological. He reads the narrative as a literal, historical account; she, disregarding many of the details, stresses the typological relationship of Adam to Christ. Augustine emphasizes Adam's freedom in offending God and God's subsequent condemnation of the human race to punishment; Julian emphasizes the atonement made by Christ and God's subsequent gifts of justification and perseverance to the elect. Although both allude to chapter 5 of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, they concentrate on different parts of that text. The bishop of Hippo verifies his teachings on original sin by invoking Rom. 5:12-14; the anchorite of Norwich derives her dual interpretation of the vision of the lord and servant from Rom. 5:15-21. While both regard Adam's sin as afelix culpa, Augustine focuses his attention on the last word of the phrase; Julian, on the first. The distinctive metaphors that Augustine and Julian choose to define sin reveal a significant difference in their thinking about evil and in the emphasis of their theodicies. Both consider sin a deviation from the original created order, but Augustine's dominant metaphors for this condition are those of political conflict, whereas Julian's are those of physical separation.

As Elaine Pagels has shown, Augustine consistently discusses the etiology of evil, both historically and psychically, in terms of rebellion.¹⁰ His impotence to resist sin despite his desire to do so he describes as an internal war. "I neither willed with my whole will nor was I wholly unwilling. And so I was at war with myself and torn apart by myself."" This psychomachia, this war within, is the penalty for an ancestral rebellion against God. "And this strife was against my will; yet it did not show the presence of another mind, but the punishment of my own. Thus it was no more I who did it, but the sin that dwelt in me—the punishment of a sin freely committed by Adam, and I was a son of Adam."¹² Augustine thus attributes his self-estrangement, the disobedience of his own will to his conscious desires, to the original disobedience of Adam to God. Writing of the Fall in The City of God, he concludes, "In the punishment of [Adam's] sin the retribution for disobedience is simply disobedience itself For man's wretchedness is nothing but his own disobedience to himself, so that because he would not dowhat he could, he now wills to do what he cannot."¹³ The depravatio that causes personal, actual sin is also the inherited punishment for a primordial, ancestral sin.

Augustine asserts the justice of such an inherited punishment on the grounds that God is just in punishing the rebellion of free agents. "The important point is that through the justice of God, who is our Lord and master and whom we refused to serve as his subjects, our flesh, which had been subject to us, now gives us trouble through its noncompliance, whereas we by our defiance of God have only succeeded in becoming a nuisance to ourselves, and not to God."¹⁴ Although Augustine derives the idea of the inherited weakness or vitium from Paul, he presents it in a juridical context alien to the Apostle.¹⁵ His theory of original sin holds not only that human beings commit actual, personal sins because of this inherited propensity, but also that all individuals are equally guilty of the first sin through their seminal identity in Adam. He thus speaks of the legacy of original sin as a defect in human nature and as a moral offense, as vitium and as reatus, both of which merit punishment.

Although Augustine attempts to legitimize his concept of original guilt by the use of political metaphors of freedom, authority, and rebellion, such legalisms are suspect when applied to the descendants of the act's perpetrator.¹⁶ Nonetheless, ignoring the illogic of these political metaphors in his theodicy, Augustine exempts God from responsibility for evil by arguing that it is just for the all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful deity to punish the uncompelled transgression of the parents by inflicting on their progeny both moral culpability for the primordial sin and the compulsion to further sin, each eternally damnable.

Augustine's concept of original sin provides the context and contrast for Julian's parable of the lord and servant. In her retelling of Genesis 3, she refuses to attribute disobedience to Adam or wrath to God. She presents the original transgression as an inadvertent separation from God rather than a deliberate act of rebellion. And she shows God's response to be compassionate mercy instead of justified anger. In so transforming the conventional reading of Genesis 3, Julian reveals her familiarity with the notion of the regio dissimilitudinis, or land of unlikeness, particularly as presented by the twelfth-century Cistercians, and with the theory of salvation developed by Anselm of Canterbury in Cur Deus homo. Representing original sin as a fall into the self, she mitigates the malice assigned to Adam in the Augustinian interpretation. And stressing the typological relationship between Adam and Christ, she nullifies any emphasis on the just wrath of God in response to such a transgression. In contrast to the traditional Augustinian explication of Genesis 3, Julian's does not concentrate on the justness of God's punishment of the initialtransgression but on the promise of a restoration. As in her discussion of the pedagogical effects of actual sin in Revelation Thirteen, she focuses on the teleology or purpose rather than the etiology or cause of original sin.

I

Julian admits that the example of the lord and servant was very difficult for her to comprehend. Presenting it in chapter 51, she attempts to recapitulate the process by which she came to understand its meaning. As she explains, this revelation was manifest in two ways: "That one perty was shewed gostly in bodely lycknesse. That other perty was shewed more gostly withoute bodely lycknes" (14.51.514); ["One part was shown spiritually, in a bodily likeness. The other part was shown more spiritually, without bodily likeness" (267)]. In addition to the two different kinds of showings combined in the example of the lord and servant, Julian identifies three levels of understanding.

The furst is the begynnyng of techyng that I vnderstode ther in in the same tyme. The secunde is the inwarde lemyng that I haue vnderstonde there in sythen. The thyrd is alle the hole revelation fro the begynnyng to the ende whych oure lorde god of his goodnes bryngyth oftymes frely to the syght of my vnderstondyng. And theyse thre be so onyd, as to my vnderstondyng, that I can nott nor may deperte them. (14.52.519-20)

[The first is the beginning of the teaching which I understood from it at the time. The second is the inward instruction which I have understood from it since. The third is all the whole revelation from the beginning to the end, which our Lord God of his goodness freely and often brings before the eyes of my understanding. And these three are so unified, as I understand it, that I cannot and may not separate them. (269)]

Although Julian had an immediate comprehension of one level, her full interpretation develops over a period of time. She tries to recapitulate this growth of awareness by presenting the example recursively, moving from the description of the bodily likeness to her immediate response and then to the subsequent interpretation.

Julian begins with a description of the scene she envisioned. Her focus moves from the pair to the servant and then back to the lord. She presents the initial relationship between lord and servant as mutually benevolent: "The servannt stondyth before his lorde, reverently redy to do his lordes wylle. The lorde lokyth vppon his seruannt full louely and swetly and mekely" (14.51.514); ["The servant stands before his lord, respectfully, ready to do his lord's will. The lord looks on his servant very lovingly and sweetly and mildly" (267)]. Then Julian observes the servant in theact of falling. She emphasizes the good will with which he sets out to perform the lord's command and depicts his fall as a consequence of his eagerness to obey.

[The lord] sendyth hyrn in to a certeyne place to do his wyll. The servannt nott onely he goyth, but sodenly he stertyth and rynnyth in grett hast for loue to do his lordes wylle. And anon he fallyth in a slade, and takyth ful grett sorow; and than he gronyth and monyth and wallowyth and wryeth, but he may nott ryse nor helpe hym selfe by no manner of weye. (14.51.514-515)

[[The lord] sends him to a certain place to do his will. Not only does the servant go, but he dashes off and runs at great speed, loving to do his lord's will. And soon he falls into a dell and is greatly injured; and then he groans and moans and tosses about and writhes, but he cannot rise or help himself in any way. (267)]

Surprised by the cause of the fall, Julian scrutinizes the servant closely to ensure that she perceives his motivation correctly.

I merveyled how this seruannt myght thus mekely suffer all this woo; and I behelde with avysement to wytt yf I culde perceyve in hym ony defaute, or yf the lorde shuld assigne in hym ony maner of blame; and verely there was none seen, for oonly hys good wyll and his grett desyer was cause of his fallyng. And he was as vnlothfull and as good inwardly as he was when he stode before his lorde, redy to do his wylle. (14.51.516)

[I was amazed that this servant could so meekly suffer all this woe; and I looked carefully to know if I could detect any fault in him, or if the lord would impute to him any kind of blame; and truly none was seen, for the only cause of his falling was his good will and his great desire. And in spirit he was as prompt and as good as he was when he stood before his lord, ready to do his will. (268)]

As a result of this fall, the servant is no longer able to see the lord nor to recognize his love. Julian identifies seven pains the servant suffers: bruising, bodily heaviness, a consequent feebleness, diminution or blinding of his reason, inability to rise, loneliness, and isolation in a desolate place.

Next Julian turns her attention to the lord. His outward expression shows his ruth and pity for the fallen servant, but his inward expression, as her subsequent understanding has revealed, is one of enjoyment. Recognizing that the servant suffers as a consequence of his good will, the lord promises to reward him "aboue that he shulde haue be yf he had nott fallen, yea, and so ferforth that his fallyng and alle his wo that he hath takyn there by shalle beturnyd in to the hye ovyrpassyng wurschyppe and endlesse blesse" (14.51.518) ["above what he would have been if he had not fallen, yes, and so much that his falling and all the woe that he received from it will be turned into high, surpassing honour and endless bliss" (269)]. After interrupting this initial presentation of what "was shewed gostly in bodely lycknesse" ["was shown spiritually, in a bodily likeness"], Julian returns to focus on other significant details later in chapter 51. She offers more information about the lord's position and appearance (14.51.523-24) and about the servant's position, appearance, and task (14.51.527-32).

Julian indicates that she immediately interprets the scene as an enactment of the original sin, the representative of all human transgressions.

The lorde that satt solemply in rest and in peas, I vnderstonde that he is god. The seruannt that stode before hym, I vnderstode that he was shewed for Adam, that is to sey oone man was shewed that tyme and his fallyng to make there by to be vnderstonde how god beholdyth alle manne and his fallyng. For in the syghte of god alle man is oone man, and oone man is alle man. (14.51.521-22)

[I understood that the lord who sat in state in rest and peace is God. I understood that the servant who stood before him was shown for Adam, that is to say, one man was shown at that time and his fall, so as to make it understood how God regards all men and their falling. For in the sight of God all men are one man, and one man is all men. (270)]

Julian subsequently realizes, however, that the servant is also the typological second Adam, Christ. "In the servant is comprehendyd the seconde person of ??e trynyte, and in the seruannt is comprehendyd Adam, that is to sey all men" (14.51.532); ["In the servant is comprehended the second person of the Trinity, and in the servant is comprehended Adam, that is to say all men" (274)]. Any analysis of Julian's example of the lord and servant must account for all the details of the scene from this double perspective, as appropriate both to Adam and to Christ. Four issues are particularly significant: the servant's good will in responding to the lord's command, the suffering that results from the servant's fall, the lord's refusal to blame the servant for the fall, and the greater reward the servant receives as a result of his suffering.

As Julian explains, she immediately identifies the lord as God and the servant as Adam, the representative of sinful humanity. Although she acknowledges that Adam and humankind suffer as a consequence of his fall, she insists that his fall was not the result of rebellion or disobedience.

This man was hurte in his myghte and made fulle febyll, and he was stonyd in his vnderstandyng, for he was tumyd fro the beholdyng of his lorde, but his wylle was kepte in gods syght. For his wylle I saw oure lorde commende and aproue, but hym selfe was lettyd and blyndyd of the knowyng of this wyll. And this is to hym grett sorow and grevous dysses, for neyther he seeth clerly his lovyng lorde whych is to hym full meke and mylde, nor he seeth truly what hym selfe is in the syght of his louyng lord. (14.51.522)

[This man was injured in his powers and made most feeble, and in his understanding he was amazed, because he was diverted from looking on his lord, but his will was preserved in God's sight. I saw the lord commend and approve him for his will, but he himself was blinded and hindered from knowing this will. And this is a great sorrow and a cruel suffering to him, for he neither sees clearly his loving lord, who is so meek and mild to him, nor does he truly see what he himself is in the sight of his loving lord. (270-71)]

The originality of Julian's insistence on Adam's good will becomes apparent when her account of the Fall is compared to one that closely resembles it.

In Cur Deus homo Anselm of Canterbury also refers to original sin as a metaphoric fall into a pit. Although, as I will demonstrate later in this chapter, Julian invokes Anselm's soteriology in her interpretation of the servant as Christ, her conception of Adam's fall differs from his Augustinian view of original sin. Anselm attributes this fall to the servant's malicious disobedience and insists that he deserves to be punished. The dialogue between Anselm and the interlocutor Boso articulates the major premises of the doctrine of original sin at the heart of retributive theodicy.

A[nselm] … Suppose that a man enjoins some task on his servant, and charges him not to throw himself into a pit which he [the master] points out to him, out of which he [the servant] cannot possibly escape. But that servant despises the command and the warning of his master and, of his own free will, throws himself into the pit that has been shown him, so that he is unable to carry out his assigned task. Do you think that this inability is worth anything as an excuse for not performing the assigned task?

B[oso]. Not at all. On the contrary, it increases his guilt, since he brought this inability on himself. For he sinned doubly. because he did not do what he was ordered to do, while what he was commanded not to do he did.¹⁷

Both speakers in the dialogue insist that the servant's fall is the result of his deliberate disobedience of a divineinjunction. As a result, the servant is incapable of performing the tasks assigned him, but he is nonetheless morally culpable for his incapacity because his initial offense was voluntary. Anselm thus endorses the Augustinian position that the legacy of original sin is both weakness and guilt. The former does not excuse the latter since Adam freely chose to transgress and all of Adam's descendants are seminally present in him.

The differences between Anselm's example and Julian's strikingly demonstrate her disagreement with the conventional interpretation of Genesis 3. Julian, remarkably, denies that Adam's fall into the pit is deliberate or voluntary. In fact, it results from his efforts to perform the lord's command, not disobey it. Julian provides a clue about what this command entails for Adam when she resumes the description of the bodily likeness later in chapter 51. She sees the servant standing to the left of the lord, dressed as a laborer in a ragged, white garment stained with perspiration. The lord commands the servant to go to earth to seek a treasure.

And then I vnderstode that he shuld do the grettest labour and the hardest traveyle that is. He shuld be a gardener, deluyng and dykyng and swetyng and turnyng the erth vp and down, and seke the depnesse and water the plantes in tyme. And in this he shulde contynue his traveyle, and make swete flodys to rynne and nobylle plentuousnesse fruyte to spryng, whych he shulde bryng before the lorde, and serve hym therwith to his lykynk. And he shulde nevyr turne ageyne, tyll he had dyghte this mett alle redy, as he knew that it lykyd to the lorde; and than he shulde take thys mett with the dryngke, and bere it full wurschypply before the lorde. (14.51.530-31)

[And then I understood that he was to do the greatest labour and the hardest work there is. He was to be a gardener, digging and ditching and sweating and tuming the soil over and over, and to dig deep down, and to water the plants at the proper time. And he was to persevere in his work, and make sweet streams to run, and fine and plenteous fruit to grow, which he was to bring before the lord and serve him with to his liking. And he was never to come back again until he had made all this food ready as he knew was pleasing to the lord; and then he was to take this food, and drink, and carry it most reverently before the lord. (273-74)]

Julian's imagery of productive labor alludes to two events in Genesis: God's bestowal on the newly created Adam of dominion over the earth (Gen. 2:19-20) and his curse on the ground to punish the disobedient Adam (Gen. 3:17-19). Medieval iconography of Adam delving typically represents the second event.¹⁸ Although Julian admits that the cultivation of the land requires hard manual labor, she transforms its punitive implications with her description of the earth's bounty and the lord's pleasure. Julian's celebration ofAdam's labor presages the positive attitude toward the human body that she expresses in her analogy of Jesus as Mother later in Revelation Fourteen. It also indicates that she regards the Adamic narrative as a story about creation rather than transgression.

In her interpretation of Genesis 3, Julian invokes the theological commonplace of the fall into a region of unlikeness and thus evokes the anthropology of the imago Dei that she develops more thoroughly in chapters 53 through 63 of Revelation Fourteen. "Adam fell fro lyfe to deth, in to the slade of this wrechyd worlde, and aftyr that in to hell" (14.51.533-34); ["Adam fell from life to death, into the valley of this wretched world, and after that into hell" (274)]. The ontological separation indicated by the phrase "fro lyfe to deth" suggests the Neoplatonic implications of this concept as it was developed by Augustine and adapted by the Cistercians and other medieval theologians. Based on the assertion in Gen. 1:27 that humankind is created in the image and likeness of the Trinity, this anthropology regards separation from God as an exile into a land of unlikeness.¹⁹ Most often medieval theologians ascribe this distance from God to either a natural or a moral breach. The natural separation from God results from the difference between Creator and creature. This ontological distance between God and humankind is further increased by a moral separation that occurs as a result of sin. Medieval theologians thus refer to both creation and transgression as a fall into a region of unlikeness.

Although his use of the metaphor is frequent and varied, Bernard of Clairvaux on several occasions refers to Adam's fall as a descent into the region of unlikeness.²⁰ In his Sermons on the Song of Songs (Sermones super cantica canticorum, 1135-1153), for example, Bernard associates the region of unlikeness with the exile of Adam and Eve, identifying their sin specifically as a descent from the spiritual to the material realm due to ignorance of their true natures. In sermon 35 Bernard attributes Adam's expulsion to a lack of self-understanding that led him to pride and subsequent bestiality.

Placed in a position of honor, [Adam] was so intrigued by the dignity of his rank that he did not understand that he was but clay.… From then on this fairest of creatures was reduced to the level of the herd; from then on the likeness of God was changed to the likeness of a beast; from then on association with the animals took the place of fellowship with the angels. You see how careful we must be to shun this ignorance that has brought evils by the thousands on the whole human race!²¹

In sermon 82 Bernard likewise argues that Eve sinned because she forgot her true spiritual resemblance to God. "Consider Eve, and how her immortal soul of immortal glory was infected by the stain of mortality through her desire for mortal things. Why didshe not spurn mortal and transitory things, when she was immortal, and satisfy herself with the immortal and eternal things which were proper to her?"²² These two examples reveal the duality of the ontological relationship between Creator and creatures. On the one hand, as in the case of Adam, human beings are dissimilar to their Creator because of their material bodies; God remains trancendent. On the other hand, as in the case of Eve, human beings are similar to their Creator because of their spiritual souls through which the image of God is immanent within them.²³ Through creation and transgression, then, humankind is distanced from God and exiled into the world of matter, the regio dissimilitudinis.

The Neoplatonic assumptions informing this concept of an ontological fall into the region of unlikeness are even clearer in Bemard's source, Augustine's Confessions. Addressing God, Augustine writes:

When I first knew thee, thou didst lift me up, that I might see that there was something to be seen, though I was not yet fit to see it.… I realized that I was far away from thee in the land of unlikeness, as if I heard thy voice from on high: "I am the food of strong men; grow and you shall feed on me; nor shall you change me, like the food of your flesh into yourself, but you shall be changed into my likeness."²⁴

The digestive metaphor Augustine uses to refer to the substantial union between God and humankind reveals the Neoplatonic influence on his thought; this Neoplatonism becomes more explicit in his discussion of the first chapter of Genesis in the last three books of the Confessions.²⁵ Analyzing Augustine's meditation on Gen. 1:2 in book 11 of the Confessions, Gilson explains how Augustine's notion of the region of unlikeness fits into his exemplarist theory of creation, for matter, lacking form, is most dissimilar to God who is absolute form.²⁶ Although created in the image of God, human beings are dissimilar to their Creator insofar as they consist of body as well as soul. This ontological distance is further increased by their moral offense. Associating the region of unlikeness with matter, Augustine regards both creation and transgression as causes of humankind's exile into this land alien to the spirit.

Julian's discussion of Adam's fall also seems to be informed by Christian Neoplatonism. In claiming that Adam's fall was a descent from life into death, she implies an exemplarist theory of creation, similar to though not necessarily derived from Augustine's, for, as Cousins observes, "from the time of Augustine until the Reformation and even beyond, Christian Neoplatonism was the mainstream philosophical-theological tradition in the spirituality of Western Christianity."²⁷ Julian interprets the lord's position "syttyng on the erth, bareyn and desert" ["sittingon the ground, barren and waste"] as a sign of this ontological separation between Creator and creature that occurs when the soul is embodied.

He made mannes soule to be his owne cytte and his dwellyng place, whych is most pleasyng to hym of all his workes. And what tyme man was fallyn in to sorow and payne, he was not all semely to serve of ??at noble offyce; and therfore oure kynde fader wolde haue dyght hym noon other place but to sytt vppon the erth, abydyng man kynde, which is medlyd with erth, tyll what tyme by his grace hys deerwurthy sonne had brought agayne hys cytte in to the nobyll feyemesse with his harde traveyle. (14.51.525-26)

[He made man's soul to be his own city and his dwelling place, which is the most pleasing to him of all his works. And when man had fallen into sorrow and pain, he was not wholly proper to serve in that noble office, and therefore our kind Father did not wish to prepare any other place, but sat upon the ground, awaiting human nature, which is mixed with earth, until the time when by his grace his beloved Son had brought back his city into its noble place of beauty by his hard labour. (272)]

As I shall show in my discussion of Julian's anthropology in the next chapter, she also associates this process of embodiment with Jesus' motherhood in creation.

The ontological union involves the Son as well as the Father, for each individual who will be saved has been predestined in Christ from all eternity. Julian alludes to this eternal union between the elect and Christ when she explains Adam's fall.

When Adam felle godes sonne fell; for the ryght onyng whych was made in hevyn, goddys sonne myght nott be seperath from Adam, for by Adam I vnderstond alle man. Adam fell fro lyfe to deth, in to the slade of this wrechyd worlde, and aftyr that in to hell. Goddys son fell with Adam in to the slade of the meydens wombe, whych was the feyerest doughter of Adam, and that for to excuse Adam from blame in hevyn and in erth; and myghtely he fechyd hym out of hell. (14.51.533-34)

[When Adam fell, God's Son fell; because of the true union which was made in heaven, God's Son could not be separated from Adam, for by Adam I understand all mankind. Adam fell from life to death, into the valley of this wretched world, and after that into hell. God's Son fell with Adam, into the valley of the womb of the maiden who was the fairest daughter of Adam, and that was to excuse Adam from blame in heaven and on earth; and powerfully he brought him out of hell. (274-75)]

The predestination of humanity in the second person of theTrinity from all eternity necessitates the incarnation of Christ when Adam falls from union with God into the region of unlikeness; Jesus' motherhood in creation incites his motherhood in restoration. Julian's anthropology is thus closely connected to her soteriology. However, before we examine the influence of Anselm of Canterbury's theory of atonement on Julian's interpretation of the Adamic myth, it is important to note how Julian modified the tradition of the region of unlikeness.

In sermon 36 of On the Song of Songs, Bernard of Clairvaux presents the consequences of sin, both original and actual, as a fall into a region of unlikeness. A comparison of Julian's list of the pains the servant suffers with this similar account from Bernard epitomizes the difference between her attitude toward the body and his, a difference that I will explore in greater detail in my discussion in the next chapter of Julian's concept of Jesus as Mother. Bernard focuses on the dangers posed by embodiment.

When a man thus takes stock of himself in the clear light of truth, he will discover that he lives in a region where likeness to God has been forfeited … How can he escape being genuinely humbled on acquiring this true self-knowledge, on seeing the burden of sin that he carries, the oppressive weight of his mortal body, the complexities of earthly cares, the corrupting influence of sensual desires; on seeing his blindness, his worldliness, his weakness, his embroilment in repeated errors; on seeing himself exposed to a thousand dangers, trembling amid a thousand fears, confused by a thousand difficulties, defenceless before a thousand suspicions, worried by a thousand needs; one to whom vice is welcome, virtue repugnant?²⁸

The seven pains the servant suffers as a result of his fall in chapter 51 of A Book of Showings bear some resemblance to Bernard's catalog.

And of all this the most myschefe that I saw hym in was feylyng of comfort, for he culde nott turne his face to loke vppe on his lovyng lorde, whych was to hym full nere, in whom is full comfort; but as a man that was full febyll and vnwyse for the tyme, he entendyd to his felyng and enduryng in woo, in whych woo he sufferyd vij grett paynes. The furst was the soore brosyng that he toke in his fallyng, whych was to hym moch payne. The seconde was the hevynesse of his body. The thyrde was fybylnesse that folowyth of theyse two. The iiij was that he was blyndyd in his reson and stonyd in his mynde so ferforth that allmost he had forgeten his owne loue. The v was that he myght nott ryse. The vj was payne most mervelous to me, and that was that he leye aloone. I lokyd alle about and behelde, and ferre ne nere ne hye ne lowe I saw to hym no helpe. The vijth was that the place whych he ley in was alang, harde and grevous. (14.51.515-16)

[And of all this, the greatest hurt which I saw him in was lack of consolation, for he could not turn his face to look on his loving lord, who was very close to him, in whom is all consolation; but like a man who was for the time extremely feeble and foolish, he paid heed to his feelings and his continuing distress, in which distress he suffered seven great pains. The first was the severe bruising which he took in his fall, which gave him great pain. The second was the clumsiness of his body. The third was the weakness which followed these two. The fourth was that he was blinded in his reason and perplexed in his mind, so much so that he had almost forgotten his own love. The fifth was that he could not rise. The sixth was the pain most astonishing to me, and that was that he lay alone. I looked all around and searched, and far and near, high and low, I saw no help for him. The seventh was that the place in which he lay was narrow and comfortless and distressful. (267-68)]

Of the seven pains Julian identifies, the middle three have a counterpart in Bernard's catalog in sermon 36: the weight of the mortal body, weakness or feebleness, and blindness. However, while Bernard emphasizes the burdens of sensuality and earthly cares, Julian stresses the servant's isolation and loneliness. She is not as worried as Bernard about the problems posed by the body and the world; instead, she is troubled by the separation from God. Julian articulates the servant's suffering in medical and psychological rather than forensic terms; she focuses on the ontological rather than the moral consequences of Adam's fall.

In contrast to the Augustinian doctrine of original sin, which attributes malevolence to both Adam and his descendants, Julian denies that either disobeys God deliberately. Her definition of personal sin, like her version of the Genesis narrative, emphasizes the consequences of separation from God, not the revolt of the will causing such separation.

Man is channgeabyll in this lyfe, and by sympylnesse and vncunnyng fallyth in to synne. He is vnmyghty and vnwyse of hym selfe, and also his wyll is ovyr leyde in thys tyme he is in tempest and in sorow and woe. And the cause is blynnes, for he seeth not god; for yf he saw god contynually, he shulde haue no myschevous felyng ne no maner steryng, no sorowyng that servyth to synne. (14.47.496)

[Man is changeable in this life, and falls into sin through naivete and ignorance. He is weak and foolish in himself, and also his will is over-powered in the time when he is assailed and in sorrow and woe. And the cause is blindness, because he does not see God; for if he saw God continually, he would have no harmful feelings nor any kind of prompting, no sorrowing which is conducive to sin. (260)]

Julian consistently stresses weakness rather than guilt as the legacy of the ancestral transgression. Accordingly, she portrays actual sin as the result of ignorance rather than depravity.

And therfore we fayle oftymes of the syght of hym, and anon we falle in to oure selfe, and than fynde we felyng of ryght nowght but the contraryous that is in oure selfe, and that of the olde rote of oure furst synne with all that folowyth of oure owne contynuance; and in this we be traveyled and temptyd with felyng of synne and of payne in many dyverse maner, gostely and bodely, as it is knowyn to vs in this lyfe. (14.46.498-99)

[And therefore often we fail to perceive him, and presently we fall back upon ourselves, and then we find that we feel nothing at all but the opposition that is in ourselves, and that comes from the old root of our first sin, with all that follows from our own persistence; and in this we are belaboured and tempted with the feeling of sin and of pain in many different ways, spiritually and bodily, as is known to us in this life. (261)]

For Augustine, sin causes separation from God; for Julian, sin ensues from such separation. She considers the suffering that results from sin not as a penalty inflicted by a wrathful God, but as the natural consequence of the sinner's violation of his or her "feyer kynde" (14.63.615) ["fair nature" (304)], the breach of the ontological union between Creator and creature. And whereas Augustine emphasizes the perverse will of Adam's descendants, Julian concentrates on the godly will of the elect, "that nevyr assentyd to synne ne nevyr shall" (14.53.555) ["which never assented to sin nor ever will" (283)].

Moreover, in Julian's parable the lord regards the servant as a compassionate healer rather than a just judge.²⁹ In contrast to the wrathful God of retributive theodicy, Julian's lord beholds his servant with a "doubyll chere" ["double aspect"]: outwardly of pity and ruth for the servant's suffering, inwardly of joy at the prospect of his eventual restoration (14.51.516-17). This showing confirms Julian's earlier insistence, despite church teaching, that God feels no wrath toward sinners. "And then I saw that oonly payne blamyth and ponyschyth, and oure curteyse lorde comfortyth and socurryth, and evyr he is to the soule in glad chere, lovyng and longyng to bryng vs to his blysse" (14.51.523); ["And then I saw that only pain blames and punishes, and our courteous Lord comforts and succours, and always he is kindly disposed to the soul, loving and longing to bring us to his bliss" (271)]. Julian thus implies that sin is its own punishment and that the conception of God as wrathful is itself a consequence of the blindness that is sin.

Furthermore, Julian provides the theological justification for herrefusal to regard God as punitive in her subsequent interpretation of the servant as Christ, the second Adam. As she explains, the lord's outward expression of pity and ruth is directed toward Adam, who falls inadvertently rather than deliberately; his inward expression of joy is directed toward Christ, who rescues Adam and restores him to an even greater reward than that originally intended for him (14.51.524-25). In presenting this second interpretation of the example of the lord and servant, Julian invokes the soteriology or theory of salvation first developed by Anselm of Canterbury in Cur Deus homo.

II

As Gillian Evans observes, "Anselm was the first thinker since Augustine to take a comprehensive fresh look at the problem of evil."³⁰ In Cur Deus homo (Why God Became Man, 1098) Anselm resolves the contradiction between the conception of divine retribution underlying Augustinian theodicy and the idea of divine mercy informing the theory of redemption. Boso, the interlocutor in the dialogue with Anselm, poses the problem by claiming that unbelievers regard the incarnation and crucifixion of Christ as affronts to God's honor and dignity. Why, they ask, did the Father demand that his Son endure such humiliation and suffering? Repeating the hypothetical words of such a nonbeliever, Boso states the apparent contradiction:

If you say that God, who, according to you, created all things by his commandment, could not do all this by a simple command, you contradict yourselves by making him powerless. Or if you admit that he could have done this, but preferred to act as he did, how can you prove that he is wise, when you assert that he was willing to suffer such unseemly things without any reason? For all the things that you allege depend on his will. For the wrath of God is nothing but his will to punish.³¹

The anthropomorphization of God as wrathful had in some sense, as this hypothetical objection claims, paralyzed divine omnipotence within the constraints of divine vengeance.

Anselm solves this problem by displacing the rhetoric of divine retribution with that of cosmic rectitude. As Jaroslav Pelikan explains:

Instead of speaking of the "wrath" of God, … Anselm spoke of his justice; the justice of God had been violated by the failure of man to render to God what he owed him; the justice of God also made it impossible for God to forgive this sin by mere fiat, for this would have been a violation of the very order in the universe that God had to uphold to be consistent with himself and with his justice. Any scheme of human salvation, therefore, had tobe one that would render "satisfaction" to divine justice and leave the "rightness" and moral order intact.³²

Anselm's doctrine of atonement depends on an understanding of the satisfaction rendered by Christ as a restoration of the moral order rather than an appeasement of an angry God. The fall of Adam had disrupted the moral order and appropriate restitution was necessary for humankind's violation of rectitude. No human being could make this restitution, however, since no one was without sin; only the guiltless God was capable of making amends. Therefore, as Anselm concludes, "the person who is to make this satisfaction must be both perfect God and perfect man, because none but true God can make it, and none but true man owes it."³³ The dual nature of Christ as God and man achieved through the Incarnation resolved the seeming contradiction between divine justice and divine mercy. As God, Christ restored the moral order; as man, he offered expiation for the transgressions of humankind.

Anselm contends that the God-man's act of atonement renders Adam's fall afelix culpa, both because of its result and because of its means. First of all, the restoration of humankind exceeds its original creation, "since the former was done to a sinner against his desert, but the latter neither to a sinner nor against his desert." Moreover, Anselm continues, the means by which this restoration is accomplished is also remarkable. "Again, what a great thing it is for God and man to meet in one person, so that, while the integrity of both natures is preserved, the same person is man and God!"³⁴ Interpreting Rom. 5:19, Anselm develops the typological parallels between Adam and Christ:

For when death had entered into the human race through man's disobedience, it was fitting that life should be restored through the obedience of man. When the sin which was the cause of our condemnation had its beginning from a woman, it was fitting for the author of our justice and salvation to be born of a woman. Since the devil, when he tempted man, conquered him by the tasting of a tree, it was fitting for him to be conquered by man's bearing of suffering on a tree.³⁵

As the second Adam, the God-man satisfies the demands of divine justice at the same time that he demonstrates the immensity of divine mercy.

By the fourteenth century Anselm's argument had become the definitive soteriology of the medieval church.³⁶ Even though Julian of Norwich may not have known Cur Deus homo directly, she invokes concepts similiar to Anselm's in proposing her second interpretation of the showing of the lord and servant. Over the course of time she comes to understand the characteristics of the servant as appropriate for Jesus as well as for Adam. In presentingthis subsequent reading, Julian shows that every detail about the servant in the "bodely lycknesse" is also true of Christ because ontologically and morally Christ and humankind are one. Connected with humankind for all eternity through the predestination of the elect in the second person of the Trinity, as will be discussed in the next chapter, Christ falls into the maiden's womb just as Adam falls into this wretched world. Like Adam, Jesus stumbles to earth as he eagerly sets out to do the will of God the Father by taking on a human body. "His stertyng was the godhed, and the rennyng was the manhed; for the godhed sterte fro the fader in to the maydyns wombe, fallyng in to the takyng of oure kynde, and in this fallyng he toke grete soore" (14.51.539-40); ["His rushing away was the divinity, and his running was the humanity; for the divinity rushed from the Father into the maiden's womb, falling to accept our nature, and in this falling he took great hurt" (277)]. Christ, like Adam, is injured by his fall, but Julian clearly identifies these pains as the physical torments of the Passion rather than those of separation from God (14.51.540-42). Using the metaphor of the body as a garment, Julian explains that Christ takes on Adam's flesh and becomes a God-man in order to atone for the sins of humankind. "And thus hath oure good lorde Jhesu taken vppon hym all oure blame; and therfore oure fader may nor wyll no more blame assigne to vs than to hys owne derwurthy son Jhesu Cryst" (14.51.535); ["And so has our good Lord Jesus taken upon him all our blame; and therefore our Father may not, does not wish to assign more blame to us than to his own beloved Son Jesus Christ" (275)]. Julian's interpretation of the servant as Christ thus conforms to Anselm's atonement theory of salvation.

Although this redemptive relationship between Christ and Adam is the most significant dimension of Julian's example, other details of chapter 51 are also doubly appropriate. Like Adam, for example, Jesus comes to earth to be a gardener; however, his task is metaphoric rather than literal, for the ground he cultivates is the human soul. Julian alludes to the same traditional image that Langland develops in Piers Plowman when he places the tree of charity "'in a gardyn … what god made hymselue / Amyddes mannes body; … / Herte highte the herber that it Inne groweth'"³⁷ ["in a garden … that God made himself/Amid man's body; … / The garden that it grows in is called heart"]. Although Julian does not invoke the Devil's rights theory as Langland does, she may have in mind the same metaphoric apples of fallen humanity that Piers/Christ rescues from Satan when she refers to the treasure hidden in the garden of the heart as "a mete whych is delicious and plesyng to the lorde" (14.51.530) ["a food which is delicious and pleasing to the lord" (273)]. As Wolfgang Riehle indicates, this familiar metaphor of the soul as a garden was developed from biblical passages such as "the New Testament parable of the treasure hidden in the field (Matt. 13:44), or a verse from the Book of Proverbs which states that whoever searchesfor wisdom as for hidden treasures will find the knowledge of God (Prov. 2:4), but above all the 'hortus conclusus' of the Song of Songs (S. of S. 4:12)."³⁵

Julian completes her exposition of the showing of the lord and servant by explaining the lord's promise to restore his servant to glory. Again, she insists that this promise applies to both the first and second Adam. Chapter 51 ends with her description of the victorious Christ seated in peace and rest at the right hand of the Father. Alluding to Revelation Nine, she identifies the crown that he wears as those he has redeemed. And chapter 52 explains what this restoration means for Adam and the elect. Thanks to Christ's sacrifice, sin, both original and personal, becomes afelix culpa, for those predestined will receive an even greater reward in heaven than the bliss the first parents experienced in paradise (14.52.550).³ For Julian and her fellow Christians, however, this restoration is yet to come. Nonetheless, through her final interpretation of the servant (chapter 52), she is able to reconcile the apparent contradiction posed earlier in Revelation Fourteen between the inevitability of human sinfulness and God's promise of salvation to the elect.

Julian reveals that she and her fellow Christians, like the servant, also have a dual identity; they are both Adam and Christ.

For the tyme of this lyfe we haue in vs a mervelous medelur both of wele and of woo. We haue in vs oure lorde Jhesu Cryst vp resyn, and we haue in vs the wrechydnesse and the myschef of Adams fallyng. Dyeng by Cryst we be lastynly kept, and by hys gracyous touchyng we be reysed in to very trust of saluacyon. And by Adams fallyng we be so broken in oure felyng on dyverse manner by synne and by sondry paynes, in whych we be made derke and so blynde that vnnethys we can take any comforte. (14.52.546-47)

[During our lifetime here we have in us a marvellous mixture of both well-being and woe. We have in us our risen Lord Jesus Christ, and we have in us the wretchedness and the harm of Adam's falling. Dying, we are constantly protected by Christ, and by the touching of his grace we are raised to true trust in salvation. And we are so afflicted in our feelings by Adam's falling in various ways, by sin and by different pains, and in this we are made dark and so blind that we can scarcely accept any comfort. (279)]

Returning to the theme she developed at the end of Revelation Thirteen, Julian explains how this dual identity of those who will be saved insures that personal sin is indeed afelix culpa, for Christ atoned not only for Adam's offense but also for the past and future transgressions of all the elect. Reiterating the metaphor of falling and rising, she reconciles the apparent contradiction—between the propensity to sin inherited from Adam andthe promise of salvation merited by Christ—by discriminating between venial and mortal sin and by emphasizing the efficacy of the sacrament of penance (14.52.551).

Julian also clarifies how the distinction between two parts of the soul resolves the apparent contradiction between her showings and the church's teachings about God's wrath. At the beginning of chapter 45, she had related this distinction between the higher and lower parts of the soul to the difference between God's excusing and the church's accusing of sinners. "God demyth vs vpon oure kyndely substance, whych is evyr kepte one in hym, hole and safe, without ende; and this dome is of his ryghtfulhede. And man demyth vppon oure channgeable sensualyte, whych semyth now oone and now a nother, after that it takyth of the partyes and shew(yth) outward" (14.45.486); ["God judges us in our natural substance, which is always kept one in him, whole and safe, without end; and this judgment is out of his justice. And man judges us in our changeable sensuality, which now seems one thing and now another, as it derives from parts and presents an external appearance" (256)]. In chapter 52 Julian associates these two judgments with the "doubyll chere" ["double aspect"] of the lord. His outward expression of ruth and pity she attributes to two causes: Adam's fall and the suffering Christ endured to atone for it. She also focuses this outward expression on the lower part of the soul, capable of sin and in need of mercy and grace.

Thus wylle oure good lorde that we accuse oure selfe wylfully, and truly se and know (our fallyng and all the harmes that cum therof, seand and witand that we may never restoren it; and therwith, if we wilfully and truly sen and knowen,) his evyrlastyng loue that he hath to vs and his plentuous mercy. And thus gracyously to se and know both to geder is the meke accusyng that oure good lorde askyth of vs. And hym selfe wurkyth there it is, and this is the lower party of mannys lyfe. (14.52.552-53)

[So does our good Lord want us willingly to accuse ourselves, and to see truly and know our falling, and all the harrms which come from it, seeing and knowing that we can never repair it; and also we willingly and truly see and know the everlasting love which he has for us, and his plentiful mercy. And so by grace to see and know both together is the meek self-accusation which our good Lord asks from us. And he himself works where it is, and this is the lower part of man's life. (281-82)1

The lord's inward expression of love and joy, however, indicates God's exoneration of the higher part of the soul, the substance that is eternally united to its maker. Because humans can see only the outward manifestation of the lower part, or sensuality, it is appropriate for them to blame themselves for sin. But God, who beholds the sensuality united to the substance of thesoul, can excuse human frailty. Bringing her argument full circle from chapter 45, Julian thus resolves the dialectic contradiction between the Augustinian ideology of guilt and her own vision by distinguishing between the limited human perspective and the comprehensive divine one.

Recognizing that Augustine's juridical theodicy reduces the divine nature to deceptive human proportions, Julian rejects the anthropomorphic characterization of a punitive God. Her conclusion to the parable of the lord and servant clarifies her declaration earlier in Revelation Fourteen that wrath is impossible for God because it would violate the divine nature. "I saw verely that oure lorde was nevyr wroth nor nevyr shall…

God is that goodnesse that may nott be wroth, for god is nott but goodnes. Our soule is onyd to hym, vnchanngeable goodnesse. And betwen god and oure soule is neyther wrath nor forgevenesse in his syght" (14.46.493); ["I saw truly that our Lord was never angry, and never will be.… God is that goodness which cannot be angry, for God is nothing but goodness. Our soul is united to him who is unchangeable goodness. And between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness in his sight" (259)]. Avoiding even a metaphorical attribution of anger to God, Julian locates wrath within humans. "For I saw no wrath but on mannes perty, and that forgevyth he in vs.… For we by synne and wrechydnesse haue in vs a wrath and a contynuant contraryousnes to pees and to loue" (14.48.500-501); ["For I saw no wrath except on man's side, and he forgives that in us.… For we through sin and wretchedness have in us a wrath and a constant opposition to peace and to love" (262)]. Without denying human sinfulness, Julian of Norwich refuses to attribute to God the malevolence toward sinners that is characteristic of Augustinian theodicy. While she affirms her submission to church teachings, she nonetheless presents a solution to the problem of evil that interrogates the retributive premises of orthodox theodicy.

Notes

¹ Augustine, On the Literal Interpretation of Genesis: An Unfinished Book 1.3, in Teske, 146; Migne, PL 34.221. See also Elaine Pagels, Adam, Eve, and the Serpent (New York: Random House, 1988), chapter 6, especially 135.

² Augustine, The Nature of the Good 7, in Augustine: Earlier Writings, trans. John H. S. Burleigh, Library of Christian Classics 6 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1953), 328; for the Latin text, see De natura boni, in Migne, PL 42.554.

³ Jean Delumeau, Sin and Fear: The Emergence of a Western Guilt Culture, Thirteenth-Eighteenth Centuries, trans. Eric Nicholson (1983; New York: St. Martin's Press, 1990), 203. Delumeau's survey of penitential literature in chapter 7 owes much to Thomas Tentler, Sin and Confession on the Eve of the Reformation (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977). As Tentler explains, "Sacramental confession was designed to cause guilt as well as cure guilt" (xiii). Gavin Langmuir indicates the methodological limitations of Sin and Fear in a review in Speculum 67 (1992): 657-59.

⁴ Male, Religious Art in France: The Late Middle Ages, 318-24.

⁵ Emile Male, Religious Art in France: The Thirteenth Century, trans. Marthiel Mathews from the 9th ed. of 1958, Bollingen Series 90, 2 (1898 and 1958; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), 362-84. Male shows that the depiction of the torments of the damned becomes even more gruesome in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, in the next volume of this work, Religious Art in France: The Late Middle Ages, 420-33.

⁶ Delumeau, Sin and Fear, 293.

⁷ Augustine, Eighty-Three Different Questions, trans. David Mosher, The Fathers of the Church 70 (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1982), 89; for the Latin text, see De diversis quaestionibus octoginta tribus, ed. Almut Mutzenbecher, in Aurelii Augustini opera, Part 13, 2, Corpus christianorum, Series latina 44A (Turnhout: Brepols, 1975), 83.

⁸ Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae 1a2ae.47, 1, Blackfriars ed., vol. 21, ed. and trans. John Patrick Reid, O.P. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1964), 115; for the Latin text, see Sancti Thomae Aquinatis, Opera omnia iussu impensaque, 6:300.

⁹ Colledge and Walsh, "Introduction," A Book of Showings, 1:24-25.

¹⁰ Pagels, Adam, Eve, and the Serpent, chapter 5.

¹¹ Augustine, Confessions 8.10, in Outler, 172; Verheijen, 127.

¹² Augustine, Confessions 8.10, in Outler, 172; Verheijen, 127.

¹³ Augustine, Concerning the City of God against the Pagans 14.15, trans. Henry Bettenson (Harmondsworth, England: Penguin Books,. 1972), 575; for the Latin text, see De civitate Dei Libri XI-XXII, ed. Bernard Dombart and Alphonsus Kalb, Aurelii Augustini opera, Part 14, 2, Corpus christianorum, Series latina 47 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1955), 437.

¹⁴ Augustine, The City of God 14.15, in Bettenson, 576; Dombart and Kalb, 437-38. See also Confessions 7.3, in Outler, 136-37; Verheijen, 94-95.

¹⁵ Norman Powell Williams, The Ideas of the Fall and of Original Sin (1927; reprint, London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1938), 133.

¹⁶ For further discussion of this free-will defense in Augustinian theodicy, see Hick, Evil and the God of Love, 66-75; and Stoeber, Evil and the Mystics' God, 14-15.

¹⁷ Anselm, Why God Became Man 1.24, in Fairweather, 142; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:92-93. Bradley also presents this example in Julian's Way, 101, but she does not comment on it in the same way that I do.

¹⁸ Louis Reau, Iconographie de l'art chretien, vol. 1, Iconographie de la Bible (1956; reprint, Nendeln, Liechtenstein: Kraus Reprints, 1974), 91-92.

¹⁹ Robert Javelet, Image et ressemblance au douzieme siecle de Saint Anselme a Alain de Lille, 2 vols. (Paris: Editions Letouzey & Ané, 1967), 1:266-85.

²⁰ Ibid., 273-76.

²¹ Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs II, 169-70; Leclercq, Talbot, and Rochais, Opera, 1:253.

²² Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs IV, trans. Irene Edmonds, Cistercian Fathers Series 40 (Kalamazoo, Mich.: Cistercian Publications, 1980), 174; for the Latin text, see Leclercq, Talbot, and Rochais, Opera, 2:294.

²³ Javelet, Image et ressemblance, 1:276, points out that the medieval theological vocabulary of similitude and dissimilitude corresponds to the modern concepts of immanence and transcendence.

²⁴ Augustine, Confessions 7.10, in Outler, 147; Verheijen, 103-4. Pierre Courcelle, "Tradition Neo-Platonicienne et traditions Chretiennes de la 'region de dissemblance,"' Archives d'histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen dge 23 (1957): 5-10, identifies this passage from Augustine's Confessions as Bernard's source for the allusion to the region of unlikeness in sermon 36 of On the Song of Songs.

²⁵ Etienne Gilson, "Regio dissimilitudinis de Platon a Saint Bernard de Clairvaux," Mediaeval Studies 9 (1947): 126, recognizes that Augustine's concept of original sin as a fall into a region of unlikeness has both Neoplatonic and scriptural precedent.

²⁶ Ibid., 122-23.

²⁷ Ewert Cousins, "Bonaventure's Mysticism of Language," inMysticism and Language, ed. Steven Katz (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 239.

²⁸ Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs II, 178; Leclercq, Talbot, and Rochais, Opera, 2:7.

²⁹ Julian's description of the lord as compassionate is another similarity between her examination of original sin and Bernard's sermon 36.

But if I look up and fix my eyes on the aid of the divine mercy, this happy vision of God soon tempers the bitter vision of myself, and I say to him: "I am disturbed within so I will call you to mind from the land of Jordan." This vision of God is not a little thing. It reveals him to us as listening compassionately to our prayers, as truly kind and merciful, as one who will not indulge his resentment. His very nature is to be good, to show mercy always and to spare. By this kind of experience, and in this way, God makes himself known to us for our good.… In this way your self-knowledge will be a step to the knowledge of God; he will become visible to you according as his image is being renewed with you. And you, gazing confidently on the glory of the Lord with unveiled face, will be transformed into that same image with ever increasing brightness, by the work of the Spirit of the Lord.

See Bernard of Clairvaux, On the Song of Songs II, 179; Leclercq, Talbot, and Rochais, Opera, 2:7-8.

¹⁰ Evans, Augustine on Evil, 175.

³¹ Anselm, Why God Became Man 1.6, in Fairweather, 106-7; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:54.

³² Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, 3:110.

³³ Anselm, Why God Became Man 2.6, in Fairweather, 152; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:101.

³⁴ Anselm, Why God Became Man 2.16, in Fairweather, 167; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:117.

³⁵ Anselm, Why God Became Man 1.3, in Fairweather, 104-5; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:51.

³⁶ Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, 4:23.

³⁷Piers Plowman: The B Version, ed. George Kane and E. Talbot Donaldson (London: The Athlone Press, 1975), 14.14-15.

³⁸ Riehle, The Middle English Mystics, 161 and 215n.187.

³⁹ A commonplace of medieval theology, the idea that the elect will exceed the original perfection of Adam ultimately derives from Augustine; see Admonition and Grace 12.33, in Murray, 285; Migne, PL 44.936. The idea is articulated for the Middle Ages in Anselm of Canterbury's Why God Became Man, especially 2.16, in Fairweather, 166-67; Schmitt, Opera omnia, 2:117.