As for my newest psychological attack on the church, I will be using he/they pronouns for Joan of Arc.
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Art Dump/Prophecies/Prayers 02.06.24
To The Messiah,
I'm sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I'm sorry we continue to suffer from our silence. Dear Messiah tell me the wounds will become visible soon. I'd do anything for it. I'd do anything for a blessing from you. I know what I am and I know what you are too. Don't leave me behind. You know, when the time comes. I had that dream about you again. The one where the sun becomes God. I had another dream about the devil in the Mariana Trench. Some things can't be stopped I suppose, but let me try. Let me try.
Love and duty,
D'ARC
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I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.
I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.
Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.
All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:
“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”
Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.
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Kyrie
“Why don’t you say it in English?”
I didn’t know her. I had never seen her at Mass before. But that was the first thing she said to me after Mass.
My insightful response – “What?”
“Why don’t you say ‘Lord have mercy’ in English?”
She was annoyed at having to repeat herself to a rather slow deacon.
“Actually, sometimes I do say in in English. But mostly, I say it in Greek. Because that’s the original language for the Mass.
Kyrie eleison, in Greek, is part of the earliest known Masses. When the Mass went to Latin, the Kyrie stayed Greek.
St. Joan of Arc said it, at the last Mass she heard before the English burned her at the stake.
St. Maximillian Kolbe said it, at the last Mass he celebrated before the Nazi’s starved him to death.
For me, it’s a call-back. To the beginning. And to every generation between then and now. The saints we know, and the saints only God knows.
It’s a way of claiming our part in that big picture.”
She left without saying much. Apparently, that was not the desired answer.
Looking back, I think I left out the best part.
The Kyrie isn’t just a few words in Greek that we keep around for old times’ sake.
And it doesn’t just represent something much greater – it is something much greater.
Something worth holding on to. The thread that runs through it all. And the heart of our Faith.
Because the heart of our Faith is the mercy of God.
Kyrie eleison.
Today’s Readings
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