SURPASSING THE LEGEND: SAINT JULIAN BEYOND WHAT GLITTERS
PREAMBLE
WHAT IS SPIRITUALITY?
By spirituality, I propose an acknowledgement that there is more to life than meets the eye: an invitation to embrace an inspiring adventure that recalls us to our senses. This adventure intends to help us surpass Mordor’s darkness (JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings) as we discover the brightness of Christ’s presence because, ‘I am the Light of the world; he who follows me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life’ (John 8,12).
Like Peter before us, we are asked to rethink our past as preparation to live the future: to transform our experience by letting Christ’s shadow illumine our path. Like us, Peter does not do this alone but in communion with others called to share his story: to let go of their nets and follow Jesus (Matthew 4,18-22). We are asked to do the same as members of a parish community in the footsteps of Saint Julian, our Patron.
When Christ calls us to follow Him, we must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by His presence: to discover the meaning of our journey, whose end is unknown. To do so, we need to meditate on the Cross, which teaches us the infinite worth of the seemingly worthless and the infinite worthlessness of that which is seemingly so valued (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Nachfolge).
Spirituality teaches us to seek God alone as our happiness: to revalue what we hold dear and renew its preciousness not by what we desire but by who we are in God’s eyes. What this entails is that our choices reflect our willingness to be responsible so that it is no longer a question of what I think but rather a manifestation of who I am: my actions validate my claims.
Spirituality, in the footsteps of Saint Francis de Sales (Introduction à la vie dévote), envisages an ability to live Christ within the context of our call to holiness. For example, a priest is called to explore his solitude serving the community. On the other hand, a married couple is called upon to explore their love as a response to Christ’s presence as the anchor of their commitment to each other. Whether married or unmarried, widowed or single, we are all called to witness our baptism realistically as Saint Julian did before us by enhancing Christ’s presence in our lives.
Inclusiveness
Inclusiveness, rather than exclusiveness, marks our path to holiness. To do so, we need to constantly remind ourselves that Christ came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance (Matthew 9,13). We easily imitate those who are blinded by their righteousness and think that they have the right to separate the sheep from the goats – the good from the bad (Matthew 25,31-48). We must be careful not to let the sweet smell of incense blind us to this demand: ‘I desire mercy and not sacrifice’ (Matthew 9,12). As Pope Francis points out, true love is only expansive; it is inclusive.
To be less; Minorem
Spirituality, therefore, identifies with a Minorem status rather than a Majorem status. This involves a shift in consciousness that invites us to encounter Jesus’ self-emptying (Kenosis) resulting from our on-going conversion (Metanoia) so that we can practice committed love (Agape). This offers us a modus operandi to seek in Saint Julian the ferryman, the light of Christ, ferrying us across strong currents that accompany us, which can spell a barrier to understanding our lives as a response to God’s teasing presence.
The need to listen
God never abandons us, and yet, He seems sometimes to be present, other times absent. If we do not know Him well, we may not realise that He may be more present to us when He is absent than when He is present (Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island). Spirituality is not an emotion: it integrates the willingness to expose our heart to the Cloud of Unknowing, where the Dark Night of the Soul (Saint John of the Cross) accompanies. This passage envisages a spirituality of listening to our hearts responding to God’s Presence. Rather than isolating ourselves in paths with no exits, we are invited to live an evolving friendship in fractured times. This understanding implies that we comprehend ourselves in other landscapes and not pass by on our way, ignoring others (Luke 10,30-32): not to imitate Pilate and wash our hands of others’ sufferings. Like Saint Julian, we need to listen to the muddling aspects that underline our lives as a means to witness Christ.
A MATURING EXPERIENCE
Following Shakespeare, ‘Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast ’ (Romeo and Juliet, II.3.101), we need to mature in our understanding of things, more so of our baptism, surpassing our narcissism as the key to self-understanding. As we embrace Christ and learn to see things as he did, our discipleship – our coming after Him – witnesses the Father’s love for us. Sustained by the Holy Spirit, in Christ, our story takes on a prophetic role because our lives reveal our intimacy with God. Saint Julian points the way.
THE NEED TO BE BOLD
Taking Saint Julian seriously, we need to be bold in witnessing God’s love: joyfulness accompanies because with peace of heart we witness our willingness to serve God: to set the world ablaze by being what we proclaim by our words. Hence, the realisation that our hearts were made for God and are, as pointed out by Saint Augustine (Confessions), restless until they rest in Him. This indicates a willingness not to be static: the refusal to let the Holy Spirit challenge us to examine our attitudes and test our assertions. This entails the ability to be humble: to laugh at oneself without the fear of feeling ridiculed, as new, unknown paths appear as stepping-stones in a Japanese garden focused on what is fundamental to understanding the whole.
THE NEED TO CHANGE
Change is not an option. John Henry Newman points out, that to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often. Now think of Saint Julian and his search to be Christ-like: his perfection was to encounter his imperfections, which serve as a means to serve others. This process integrates creativity, which accompanies us in our adventure to follow in his footsteps. As Saint Gregory of Nyssa points out, our climbing never stops going from beginning to beginning, through beginnings that have no end, because we never stop desiring what we know already: Christ Jesus.
SAINT JULIAN’S EXPERIENCE
Saint Jean Marie Vianney, patron saint of parish priests, observes that not all saints began well, but they all ended well. No one better fits this comment than our patron saint. And yet, challenged to reassess our identity as a community, Saint Julian offers us a model of spirituality that enlightens our steps in our determination to be one with Christ by living His Resurrection in deeds: Acta non verba – it is better to do well than to speak well.
Saint Julian the Hospitaller is not a documented historical figure, but of legend, whose story becomes known primarily through the ‘The Golden Legend’ (Jacobus de Voragine, 13th century). According to this account, Julian, born into nobility, receives a prophecy that his parents will mark his ruin. Subjected to jealousy, he slays them unknowingly. Overcome by remorse, together with his wife, he renounces his estate and dedicate themselves to serving the sick, travellers, and the marginalised. Creating a hospice and ferry service, they gained renown for their hospitality and penitential life.
One aspect that underlines Julian’s experience is the transformative nature of his love: from a nauseating jealousy that resulted in death, to a rediscovery of what it means to love: to discover a single volume bound by love, of which the universe is the scattered leaves (Dante Alighieri, Paradiso 33), which reassesses past desires and frees us to live our love silently because he loves little who can say and count in words, how much he loves.
Julian discovered that God’s love resembles light rushing into a transparent object unhindered by the darkness. Thus, growing clearer it unveils the joyfulness of love as it exposes itself to others and resonates mirror-like, each one reflects the other’s love. This offers us an insight in the affirmation of the Magister: ‘For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them’ (Matthew 18,20).
A PARADIGMATIC EXPERIENCE
Julian’s experience is paradigmatic: from sin to sanctity via ‘conversion’ (Metanoia), ’self-emptying’ (Kenosis), embracing Christ, and ‘committed love’ (Agape) lived out in ‘service’ (diakonia). This insight addresses this reflection, whose aim is to help us better understand our ‘coming after’ (Bonhoeffer’s Nachfolge) Christ. Spirituality is Christian life: an adventure surpassing moralising, which courageously explores the dynamic openness demanded by Christ’s demand to announce the good news to all creation: to go into the world and proclaim Him to every creature (Mark 16,15). However, we need to examine what we mean by legend before we can move forward in our appreciation of Saint Julian and his influencing presence.
WHAT IS A LEGEND?
A legend is a traditional story passed down through the generations, often involving heroic figures. While legends have a historical basis, they are embellished with time, making it difficult to separate fact from fiction. Unlike entirely fictional folktales, legends focus on real people. Hence, key elements of legends are historical roots often inspired by historical figures or events, now elevated to another level that intends to strengthen the community’s identity.
Legends are normally transmitted orally before written down, which can give sway to multiple variations of the same narrative. Their purpose is to preserve history and thus, the memory of past events interpreted anew by a maturing understanding refreshed by new insights. Hence, they open paths to understanding the narrative now underlined by personal experience. Their dramatic and adventurous nature strengthens their engagement while consolidating the community’s heritage and collective memory.
As long as we seek to interpret the past as a means to live the present focused on the future, legends evolve with each generation while preserving the essence of what makes legends timeless. Thus, as we speak of Saint Julian and the narrative associated with him, we need to reinterpret his experience anew to deepen our understanding and how it helps us to adapt it as a witnessing experience focused on Christ beyond the gliders that now characterise our once quiet village in search of an identity.
THE FOUNDATIONS OF CHRISTIAN LIVING
Moving on, the doctrine of the Holy Trinity forms the trunk of our Christian vine, of which we are the branches: ‘if you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing’ (John 15,5). Hence, we live our lives in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. It should, therefore, not surprise us that the mystery of the Holy Trinity explains everything: a listening experience where love begets love (amor gignit amor), before which words give way to the silence of wonder, which Chesterton calls ‘the adventure of orthodoxy’. Hence, we live for the Father in Christ through the Spirit who enlightens our understanding and thus, the formation of our conscience as we mirror God in our choices.
The dialogue characterising the Trinitarian communion reminds each baptised person to participate in this dialogue of love through conversion, which finds its fulfilment in the Eucharistic participation. As Irenaeus tells us, our way of thinking is attuned to the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn confirms our way of thinking.
THE THREE KEYS
As we explore a spirituality inspired by our Patron Saint, we need to explore three key terms that underline our understanding of what it means to be Christian: Metanoia, Kenosis and Agape.
a. METANOIA
Metanoia concerns a profound, multifaceted concept rooted in ancient Greek philosophy, theology, and psychology. From the Greek Μετάνοια, it refers to a change of mind (meta, concerning, beyond or change, and noia, mind). Metanoia refers to transformative change of heart: a spiritual or psychological awakening that alters one’s entire way of being. Hence, it implies a radical, enduring and inner transformation. One example concerns the conversion of Saint Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9,1-19). Caravaggio’s portrayal of Paul’s conversion, the change implied by Metanoia, is not necessarily calm or gradual but implies a sudden rupture with the past. This understanding is also emphasised in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, where Raskolnikov’s journey from prideful detachment to remorse and redemption exhibits psychological and spiritual changes after committing murder, confessing, and beginning his path to redemption. In the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15,11-32), though it might be better named the Parable of the Forgiving Father, the younger son betrays his father’s love, wasting his inheritance, but eventually returns home, repentant, joyfully embraced by his father.
It is, therefore, not surprising that Metanoia concerns a conversion of mind and heart: the beginning of coming after Christ, because ‘I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance’ (Luke 5,32). This affirmation implies conscious awareness of my fragility, as pointed out by John Donne (A Hymn to God the Father):
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it was done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallow’d in, a score?
When thou hast done, though hast not done,
For I have more.
I have sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
But swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And having done that, thou hast done;
I fear no more.
The guarantee of our conversion manifests itself in our willingness and ability to recognise the face of Jesus in our attitudes, desires, and actions.
In its early classical contexts, Metanoia refers to a change in one’s intentions concerning morality or ethics. However, in the Second Testament (what we refer to as the New Testament), Metanoia assumed a theological prominence, where it was used to recall people to a complete reorientation towards God. Both John and Jesus demand a change of heart, urging their listeners to turn away from old ways and embrace the new ways envisaged by the kingdom of heaven (Mark 1,15).
In early Christian thought, Metanoia was central to understanding conversion and salvation. Both Saint Augustine and Saint John Chrysostom emphasised it as a lifelong process of turning towards God: the willingness to re-orientate one’s desires, thoughts, and actions towards God. In the Benedictine tradition, the Conversatio Morum – the conversion of life – is where one learns to practice those virtues that enhance one’s fidelity to Christ (Rule of Saint Benedict, 58).
In the Second Testament the term used, especially by Luke who mentions it at least twenty-five times, is Metanoia: a rethinking of oneself that addresses one’s way of looking at things. Repentance often accompanies but it does not, following Tertullian, define conversion because the latter implies a radical rethinking that addresses one’s choices. This summarises Saint Julian’s experience, whose conversion challenges our self-understanding: as Christians, we await Christ by witnessing his Resurrection.
Witnessing Christ is to be conscious of the need for God to ‘create within me a clean heart and the right spirit’ (Psalm 51,10-12) in my search to mirror Christ, which implies a search for truth because ‘I am the way, the truth and the life’ (John 14,6). This search for the truth, which Edith Stein identifies with one’s search for God, integrates a personal awareness of the workings of the Spirit within our hearts, which the Desert Fathers call ‘Gnosis’: the affirmation of how the Holy Spirit transforms our hearts with His presence.
b. KENOSIS
Kenosis from the Greek κένωσις concerning ‘self-emptying’, which in the Second Testament refers to God’s unconditional commitment shown in Christ, ‘Who, being in the very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross’ (Philippians 2,6-8).
Saint Julian’s self-emptying, which identifies with his turning away from his past, integrates an insight provided by Saint Augustine: ‘In my deepest wounds, I saw Your glory and it dazzled me’. In other words, to let God’s mercy penetrate our deepest wounds and transform them into bridges to heal others through our fragility.
Yes, sometimes people are surprised that someone who killed his parents and had unresolved personal issues should be a saint. Recalling Vianney’s observation that not all the saints began well, but they all ended well, should encourage us to live our life fully without the fear that separates us from Christ. This too provides us with an insight into following in Saint Julian’s footsteps. Following Thomas Merton, I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. This affirmation enriches our understanding so that, with Blessed John Henry Newman, we can, as the men and boys lost in the darkness of the Burns Pit mining disaster did before us, prayerfully recite:
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene, one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst led me on:
I loved to choose and see my path, but now
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish days, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.
So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still
Will lead me on;
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone;
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
As Edith Stein, the Carmelite nun killed at Auschwitz and now declared a saint, tells us, when night comes, looking back over the day and see how fragmentary everything has been, and how much you planned has been undone, and all the reasons you have to be embarrassed and ashamed: just take everything, exactly as it is, put it in God’s hands and leave it with Him. Saint Julian teaches us to do so not by words but by example. This proves especially helpful when we approach the Sacrament of Reconciliation as we renew our commitment to witness Christ.
Hope is, therefore, a pathway rather than an abstract something that fails to illumine our ‘coming after’ Christ. Hence, Pope John XIII’s advice proves practical: not to consult your fears, but your hopes and dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what is still possible for you to do. Saint Julian, by his conversion (Metanoia) and self-emptying (Kenosis), shows us the way: in other words, his ability to build an ‘I-Thou’ relationship (Martin Buber, Ich und Du) with Christ that intends to consolidate closeness, which recalls us to do likewise by eliminating all that separates us from Christ.
c. AGAPE
Saint Ignatius of Antioch reminds us that faith is the beginning of our adventure, and its end is love, and God is the two of them brought into unity. This is one lesson taught by Saint Julian in his endeavour to witness Christ.
The term used for love in the Second Testament is Agape from the Greek (ἀγάπη). It refers to an unconditional commitment that reminds us that love is not an emotion but integrates the willingness to identify with others because God does so with us. In other words, by self-emptying ourselves of all that separates us from Christ, we seek to mirror Him by our actions through our conversion.
Committed love reminds us that we live in a defined parish community, which allows us not to walk alone as we experience God’s abiding but challenging love. In the footsteps of Thomas Merton, by allowing God to live in us, we empower others to encounter Him. Saint Julian sets the pace. Hence, we identify not with what we do but by who we live for: to enable others, in the footsteps of Pope Francis, to smell in us the Sheperd, but this entails responsibility.
Our first responsibility concerns to preserving our communal unity as a precious gift that God desires for us because ‘we were all baptised by one Spirit as to form one body, whether Jews or Gentiles, neither slave nor free, and we were all given one Spirit to drink’ (1Corinthians 12,13). Hence, ‘make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace’ (Ephesians 4,3). This ‘bond of peace’ reminds us, as pointed out by Hans Urs von Balthasar, that only love is credible.
As we come after Christ, the concept of being one in Christ extends to understanding our unique roles within the believing community: each one of us, with our diverse experiences, comes together to form a beautiful whole. So, ‘just as a body though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ’ (1Corinthians 12,12).
Committed love (Agape) is, therefore, the foundation of our unity: ‘A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another’ (John 13,34-35). This commandment provides us with the context to understand Saint Julian the Hospitaller’s dedication to healing the sick and ferrying strangers.
VOCATIONAL SPIRITUALITY
It has been affirmed that Saint Julian’s journey is paradigmatic for the believing community: an inspiring model indicative of a vocational spirituality underlined by hospitality as sacramental. In other words, Julian is God’s wheat, grounded by the teeth of beasts, that he my be the pure bread of Christ (Saint Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Romans). Within this context, hospitality is especially important: it embodies the significance of God’s loving kindness (Hesed) demanded as a validation of one’s conversion.
HOSPITALITY AS A THEOLOGICAL GESTURE
Hospitality as a theological gesture has a deeply biblical perspective. It underlines Abraham’s covenant identity demonstrated by his welcoming the three men in his tent, which, as it turned out, was a theophanic experience (Genesis 18,1-33). It is, therefore, no wonder that the early Christians regarded hospitality as a sign of their fellowship: ‘All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need’ (Acts 2,44-45).
To understand what Saint Julian intended by hospitality we need to understand it as a summation of our baptism: ‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. Then the righteous will answer him, Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you? The King will reply, Truly I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me’ (Matthew 25,35-40).
From Pauline perspective, Julian’s dedication to serving others echoes Paul’s experience: ‘Though I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them – yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me’ (1Corinthians 15,9-10).
Rather than boasting, Paul analysis points to serving love now enshrined in Saint Julian’s dedication to serving others because only love is credible: ‘If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing’ (1Corinthians 13,3). It is within this context that we need to understand Julian’s dedication.
Hospitality marked our introduction to the Good News embodied by Paul’s preaching among us as a nation: ‘The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold’ (Acts 28,2).
Following in the footsteps of Saint Julian, hospitality is life-based: in other words, as indicated by the Gospel citation from Matthew, it is practical, focused on daily meals, providing a bed, healing the sick, and ferrying people across rivers. In this sense, the hospitality of our Patron Saint underlines an Eucharistic understanding embodying Christ’s ongoing presence in serving others - to become the pure bread of Christ. What underlines this comprehension is a practised self-emptying (Kenosis) rooted in a personal conversion (Metanoia) that finds its expression in disinterested committed love (Agape). It is, therefore, no wonder that Saint Benedict’s Rule includes hospitality as fundamental to Benedictine identity: ‘All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ’ (53.1).
Secular Dedication
Saint Julian’s secular dedication mirrors Benedictine spirituality, where inns, ferries, and kitchens are transformed into a monastic oasis where the stranger can rediscover himself: a challenging thought for those who claim him as their Patron Saint. This challenge entail a spirituality of encounter marked by an ‘I-Thou’ relationship of acceptance. Hence, inclusiveness underlines it. In practice, this entails eliminating judging others as we learn to accept them for who they are. Therefore, ‘Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn others, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven’ (Luke 6,37).
ACCEPTANCE
This relationship of acceptance challenges us to reassess our understanding of the mundane, because it provides us with the setting to live it: to discover God doing little things with great love. To do so, we need to surpass the I: to introduce a dialogue marked by the we as we seek to understand our discipleship. As indicated (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 777-778), the believing community is Christ Himself: the mystical body of Christ, both visible and spiritual where we come together because ‘you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it’ (1Corinthians 12,27).
The Mundane
Julian’s feeding, ferrying, caring and healing echo his ability to integrate the mundane as a sacred action, which reminds us of Saint Josemaria Escrivá’s observation that we either learn to find God in the ordinary everyday life or else we shall never find him. This advice helps us to rethink our perception of work, because it challenges us to discover ourselves in others, which entails the realisation that we are alive in God and thus, the need to sustain a transformative openness of heart and mind. John enlightens us: ‘Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what will be has not yet been known’ (1John 3,2). Like Peter before us, we are asked to abandon our fish nets and discover through experience what it means to be a fisher of persons (Mark 1,16-20).
THE SANCTIFICATION OF WORK
The sanctification of work underlines our ability to witness Christ. Paul thus urges us: ‘Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters’ (Colossians 3,23). Julian’s dedication reveals how everyday work is a sanctifying praxis, complementing Paul’s insight. This insight helps us to revalue workers in hospitality and tourism: their work as an integral part of their sanctification and how their example can serve to better integrate the significance of our spirituality within the reality that exemplifies our contemporary community.
Within this understanding, we need to reassess what we intend by Saint Julian’s penitential life, not to undermine its significance for us. It directs our attention to recognising that our conversion reflects our fragility and the need for God 'to create in me a clean heart and put a new spirit within me’ (Psalm 51,10): to instil in me a heart of flesh and remove my stony heart (Ezekiel 36,26). To entreat that our committed love is Eucharistic because ‘he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him’ (John 6,56). This Eucharistic understanding helps us to understand Saint Julian’s commitment to serve, because ‘to receive in truth the Body and Blood of Christ given up for us, we must recognise Christ in the poorest, his brethren (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1397)
Conclusion
The spirituality associated with Saint Julian, underlined by biblical and liturgical insights, is life-changing because it is Christ-focused. His conversion (Metanoia) led to his self-emptying (Kenosis) expressed in his committed love (Agape) serving others. In the words of Pope Francis, a community can be rebuilt by men and women who identify with the vulnerability of others (Fratelli Tutti, 67). This challenge accompanies us as we celebrate Saint Julian.
Fr. Martin Julian Bruno
August 2025
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