In Julian of Norwich and the Problem of Evil, Richard Norton argues that the theology of Julian of Norwich has been significantly under-utilised in contemporary theodicy. After a survey of key themes in twentieth-century theodicy, Julian makes her appearance for the book’s final third. Under her guidance, Norton, an Anglican lay-reader, attempts to find a ‘middle way’ between what he terms ‘theoretical’ and ‘pastoral’ responses to the problem of evil.
Chapter One provides a brief introduction to the theoretical problem of evil. After stating the ‘Epicurean Trilemma’, Norton offers paragraph-length summaries of standard responses. The book is intended for a general audience, but non-specialist readers acquainted with the philosophical problem of evil can safely skip this chapter.
Chapter Two distinguishes between ‘theoretical’ and ‘pastoral’ theodicy. Theoretical theodicy is essentially defensive and primarily a logical problem (p. 18); it cannot be expected to apply to lived experiences (p. 51). Pastoral theodicy refuses to explain evil, instead suggesting how evil and suffering can be resisted and transformed (p. 60). Pastoral critiques of theoretical theodicy are offered, including in a worthwhile exposition of Dorothee Sölle’s Suffering. Theoretical theodicy is accused of silencing victims and legitimising structural evil. A focus on late twentieth-century theological responses to the horrors of the Second World War helps identify the source of Norton’s methodological rationale but also, at times, fossilises the discussion in that historical milieu. Promises to discuss contemporary suffering (p.73) are not obviously fulfilled.
As Chapters Two and Three develop, ‘pastoral theodicy’ appears to take a broader meaning, encompassing wider theologies for accommodating a suffering Divine nature. For pastoral theodicy, the ‘answer’ to the problem of evil is to, in one’s suffering, open oneself to full cooperation with Divine co-suffering (p. 71). Only a co-suffering God is able to bring comfort to those who suffer (p. 6); an impassible God is an apathetic God (p. 85). It is possible that Norton is partially motivated here by a mistaken notion that those rejecting the ‘passibility hypothesis’ claim ‘Jesus’ experiences cannot be ascribed to God’ (p. 84).
Norton then argues that pastoral theodicies need grounding in theoretical theodicy so that the pastoral possesses a framework in which its claims make sense (p. 73). This must include a foundation in ‘the full content of the three historic creeds’ (p. 77). Moltmann’s The Crucified God is introduced as a key text in pastoral theodicy (p. 68). Moltmann, according to Norton, ‘is entirely orthodox’, Nicene orthodoxy apparently teaching that ‘God the Father and God the Son can never be distinguished or separated’ (p.67). Chalcedon is not mentioned.
Earlier discussion of theoretical theodicy is not particularly drawn upon in grounding the pastoral. Rather, Norton’s understanding of ‘theoretical grounding’ seems to shift to mean the location of Divine passibility within some wider systematic theology. Norton is thus tempted into an at times distracting discussion of soteriology, hamartiology, theological anthropology, and eschatology. These fields might be integral to good theodicy, but in attempting to directly address them in this relatively short book, Norton is sometimes obliged to spread quite thinly.
Julian of Norwich appears in Chapter Four. Norton’s analysis of Julian on sin, the Fall, human nature, and femininity is well-researched and often compelling, but its relation to theodicy is not always direct. Julian’s hamartiology is used to challenge penal substitutionary models of atonement (erroneously assimilated with Anselm [pp. 39, 136]) and the view that suffering is a punishment for sin is rejected. When Julian is eventually used to address the problem of evil directly, the discussion is brief. The comparison between recent theologies of Divine passibility and the comfort Julian takes from meditating on the Passion is a highlight, though Norton is too quick in assuming Julian would agree that the Divine nature suffers (pp. 115–116).
From this exegesis, Norton concludes that God, on the cross, took the suffering of humanity into his Being to transform that suffering ‘from the inside’ (p. 116). Pain and suffering can be a ‘vehicle for an imitatio Christi’ (p. 105) because, in being consoled by God sharing their suffering, Christians are equipped to take a compassionate stance towards the world (pp. 88–89). However, God’s promise to Julian that ‘all shall be well’ applies only to the eschaton (pp. 123–124). Solving the problem of evil is not Julian’s concern; nor, indeed, is a solution possible (p. 138). Rather, Julian’s purpose is to ‘“vindicate” the loving care of God’, making consolation possible. This, for Norton, counts as a synthesis between pastoral and theoretical because Julian combines her mystical experience with natural reason and Church doctrine (pp. 135–136). It is admitted that natural evil has been left out from the account (p. 138).
Whatever the book’s difficulties, if Norton’s central argument is that Julian offers pastoral and theoretical theodicy a rich set of under-utilised resources, he is surely correct. Julian of Norwich and the Problem of Evil ought to encourage those working in this area that the project is still an open one.
