Sin is behovely, but all shall be well,

and all shall be well,  and all manner of things shall be well.

Julian of Norwich

1342-1416 Christian Mystic

When a friend quoted Julian of Norwich to me, I wanted to slug her.  My life was in total meltdown.  I felt victimized, sinned against, and I was angry.  How dare she say everything shall be well!

And whatever did it mean to say, “Sin is behovely?”  Behovely?  What kind of medieval nonsense is that? 

Behovely…it means that sin serves a purpose.  Yes, sin is ugly.  Yes, sin causes suffering.  Yes, we want to avoid the tragedy of sin at all costs.   At the same time, what Julian is getting at is the immensity and power of God’s love.  God works in spite of our sin, and even through our sin, to bring about a greater good.        

In Romans, chapter 8, St. Paul makes the audacious claim: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

All things?  Really?  Even suffering?  Even sin?  Both Paul and Julian would say yes.  Paul concludes Romans chapter 8 with the ringing declaration that nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Sin is behovely.  It took me years and many hours of prayer to wrap my brain around the meaning of these words.  Today I am convinced that it is only when we hit bottom, that is, when we fully accept the tragedy of sin and our part in it that we can begin to grasp the immense measure of God’s love. 

By the grace of God I have survived my life’s various meltdowns.  More important, God used each crisis to teach me some painful truths about myself.  They have proven to be opportunities to grow in ways I’d never imagined.  And while I would never wish those experiences on my worst enemy, I treasure everything I learned from them. 

Sin is behovely.  If we are honest about our faults and open to God’s power, God will use all things, even sin, as an opportunity for transformation.  Saints, they say, are merely sinners who have been driven into the arms of God.

What might change for us, during this penitential season of Lent, if we started to see sin as behovely?  What if repentance was less about shame and guilt—and more about learning and growing from the painful experience of sin?  What if we began to trust that all shall be well? 

As we move towards the great mysteries of Holy Week and Easter, trust in the immensity and power of God’s love.  Surrender all aspects of your life to God, even or perhaps especially, the suffering and sin you have known.  Then wait for the new life that awaits you.

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
like the wideness of the sea;
there’s a kindness in God’s justice
which is more than liberty.
There is no place where earth’s sorrows
are more felt than up in heav’n.
There is no place where earth’s failings
have such kindly judgment giv’n.

‘Tis not all we owe to Jesus;
it is something more than all:
greater good because of evil,
larger mercy through the fall.
Make our love, O God, more faithful;
let us take you at your word,
and our lives will be thanksgiving
for the goodness of the Lord.

Text: Frederick W. Faber, 1814-1863, alt.

Blessings,

Pastor Margrethe