Homilies

Let Go and Let God

Letting Go and Trusting in God’s Providence

Holy Spirit, take my words and speak to each of us according to our need.

Today offers us an opportunity to reflect on the intersection of Jesus’ words in Luke 12:32-37 and the enduring wisdom of Julian of Norwich. Both point us toward a radical trust in God’s providence, a trust that requires us to let go of our human compulsion to control and problem-solve. We are invited not only to hope in the fulfilment that "all shall be well" in the end, but also to recognise that God's providence is active and transformative, now, in the present.

Jesus speaks to His disciples with tenderness: "Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom" (Luke 12:32). This is a striking declaration. It tells us that the kingdom is a gift, not an achievement. It is not a reward for our strategic planning, nor is it secured by our ability to solve the complexities of life. Rather, it is granted out of the sheer goodness of God.

Julian of Norwich echoes this divine assurance in her well-known words: "All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." This is not a blind optimism but rather a deep conviction rooted in her own mystical experience of God’s love. She saw suffering and sin not as anomalies disrupting God’s plan, but as realities encompassed and transformed within divine mercy. That is not to say that God causes suffering but instead her words assure us that, regardless of what occurs in the present, God’s will is ultimately for our wholeness.

This assurance, however, demands something from us. It calls us to relinquish our need for and illusion of control. We might often find ourselves clinging to the belief that we must fix everything, bear every burden, and dictate suitable solutions and outcomes. But in doing so, we begin to place ourselves in the role of the master. Casting doubt on God’s reliance and ability.

Jesus continues: "Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, like servants waiting for their master to return" (Luke 12:35-36). This readiness is not an anxiety filled, frantic striving to manipulate circumstances. Instead, it is an active trust—an expectant and hope-full waiting that is deeply engaged with God’s presence in the here and now.

Julian understood this well. Her acceptance of suffering was not passive resignation, but a profound confidence that every moment—joyful or painful—is held in God’s hands. ( It should be noted that situation in which she found herself recieving her visions was an illness which almos5 claimed her life) The challenge for us, is to recognise that God's providence is not only at work in the culmination of history but is also evident in the daily unfolding of our lives. Afterall, we are told that ‘all our days ordained for us are written before even one of them has come to be’

Perhaps some of us can relate to experiences where we have been grasping for solutions, desperately trying to steer our lives toward security – I know that it perfectly describes how I felt, searching for a curacy. I was aware of what I needed, I felt that I was being called away, but I realised that those things were not compatible in a way that I could understand with my vocation as a mother. I tied myself in knots and wrangled with anxiety looking for a way that would work for everyone but in the end, it wasn’t until I let go and accepted that I couldn’t control things that a way forward started to emerge. Christ's invitation is to a position of watchfulness, faith, and surrender. The true readiness Christ calls us to is not about grasping for control but about yielding to divine grace.

One of Julian’s most theologically provocative statements is: "Sin is behovely (necessary), but all shall be well." This is not a fatalistic acceptance of sin but an assertion that even our greatest failings and sufferings can be caught up into God’s redemptive work and Julian of Norwich isn’t the only one to hold such a view. Simone Weil, a more recent mystic, also held the view that suffering was a way to strip away our need to control and to turn to God’s redemptive love. Both see suffering not as a meaningless tragedy but as a mystical passage to deeper truths. They both believed that suffering can be transformative, not because God desires it, but because God is present in it — and can work through it to bring about a greater good.

Jesus illustrates this in Luke 12:37: "It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes. Truly I tell you, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them." This radical reversal—where the master serves the servant—demonstrates how God’s love transforms the order of things. The suffering endured in faith is not merely an unfortunate detour on the road to the kingdom; it is, in many ways, the very means by which we are drawn into intimacy with God.

How often do we see suffering as an obstacle to God's provision rather than the means through which we are shaped? If Julian's vision teaches us anything, it is that the dark times we may encounter are never outside of God’s reach. We are invited to see our trials not as signs of divine absence but as moments in which God’s grace is at work, refining us and drawing us deeper into trust.

Luke 12:32-37 and Julian of Norwich’s vision converge on a single truth: our lives are held securely in the providence of God. But this assurance calls us to action—not an action of striving, but of surrender. We are called to loosen our grip on control, to let go of the frantic need to engineer solutions, and to trust that even now, God’s provision is at work. Simone Weil said that we should strive to become like glass so that God can see the world through us and be seen in return. She offered the illustration of two prisoners in cells on either side of an adjoining wall. They think the wall is a barrier to keep them apart, until they realise it can be used to actually connect them as a means of communication, by tapping messages.....her analogy is that rather than thinking God is distant and the world is a barrier between us we need to think differently and use what he has given us in creation to interact with him here and now.

So, I would like to end by asking you: what would it look like for us to live as if we truly believed that all shall be well? What burdens might we need to let go of and release? What situation might we feel able to entrust to God rather than attempting to manage on our own?

The kingdom has already been given. Christ is already at work, both now and in the age to come. Let us then, trust that we can step forward not with fear, but with faith, knowing that in God's hands, all things—even our suffering—are being transformed for glory. Amen.

The Curious Mind of A Curious Curate