Here we are, right in front of the impressive statue of Joan of Arc – sword raised, riding her warhorse with purpose. This statue was unveiled in the late nineteenth century and placed here for a very good reason. Joan didn’t just fight in battles – she brought Charles the seventh, the future king of France, to Reims for his coronation, right inside the Reims cathedral behind us. In the fifteenth century, during the Hundred Years’ War, Joan led French troops to liberate this city from the threat of the English and their Burgundian allies. Her reputation as a divinely guided warrior had already spread, and when she approached Reims, the enemy garrison didn’t even try to fight – they fled. Thanks to her, Charles entered the city peacefully and was crowned in this very cathedral, just as Joan had envisioned in her dreams. But Joan’s story didn’t end with triumph. A year later, she was captured by the Burgundians and sold to the English. And sadly, Charles – the same man she helped make king – did nothing to save her. Joan was handed over to Church authorities, who were always suspicious of ordinary people claiming to hear messages from God. Her visions, they argued, must have come from the devil. She was tried for heresy in a Church court, where most of the judges – more than ninety percent – were French, not English. Despite intense questioning, they couldn’t get her to say anything that clearly proved her guilt. They pressured her to deny her visions and to stop wearing men's clothes. She eventually gave in. But that should’ve been the end of it. Instead, they tricked her. In the prison, her clothes were taken away and she was left with men’s clothing – and when she put them back on, they said she had relapsed. This time, they added the charge of cross-dressing, which they saw as a serious religious offense. She was convicted and, under Church law, sentenced to be burned alive. She was just 19 years old when this happened. Over the centuries, both the Church and the French monarchy tried to shift the blame, especially after England broke away from Catholicism. Joan slowly became seen not as a heretic, but as a holy martyr. And in nineteen hundred and twenty, nearly five centuries after her death, the Catholic Church declared her a saint. So here she stands again, in her “forbidden” armor, no longer a condemned heretic – but the patron saint of France. Her story reminds us how perspectives change over time and how easily truth can be shaped by those who tell it. Joan stands here today as a testament to courage, resilience, and the enduring power of faith.
