“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits.” (Mt 7:15–16a)
The Lord does not leave us in the dark about the dangers that lie in wait on our path of discipleship. It would be unthinkable for Him not to do so, for otherwise we would easily lull ourselves into a false sense of security. As a good shepherd, He not only protects us but also gives us criteria by which we can recognize false prophets.
From this moment on, the tide of the war turned in favor of the French crown. The decisive event had taken place: the Dauphin, Charles VII, had received Joan and had been convinced that she was sent by God, and the Church authorities had agreed as well. Thus God could carry out His plan.
Joan’s arrival in Orléans was eagerly awaited not only by the besieged population but also strengthened the king’s soldiers in particular. The presence of the Maid, with her unfailing confidence, gave the French army new strength and awakened them from hopelessness.
Joan herself carried no weapon and killed no one. Yet her courage and determination—being at the head of the army even in seemingly hopeless situations—continually lifted the soldiers’ spirits. This happened even when military undertakings at first seemed unlikely to succeed but were ultimately brought to a successful conclusion.
Instead of a weapon, the Maid had a banner made, as her confessor Jean Pasquerel reported, who accompanied her at her request until her later capture in Compiègne. He recounts:
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me” (Jn 10:14)
The good shepherd—what a reassuring image this is, even though we see shepherds and flocks less and less in the wild. Yet the image speaks to us from within. Deep down, we know what the good shepherd means. He is someone who watches over us, who cares for our lives, who never loses sight of us, who warns us of dangers, and who leads us to where we belong and find good pasture.
With conviction and courage, Joan sets out on the arduous eleven‑day journey to Chinon. She knows she is on a mission from God, and therefore fears no obstacles. She continually encourages her companions as well. Two of them later testify about this journey during the interrogation that took place as part of the rehabilitation trial for the saint.
The knight Bertrand de Poulengy:
It was an exciting ride, but Joan urged us not to be afraid, for the noble Dauphin would receive us kindly once we reached Chinon! And I assure you, I was completely inspired by her words, for she truly seemed to me to be sent by God; I have never been able to see the slightest evil in her. She was as good as a saint… So we arrived together without hindrance at Chinon, where the king was staying—who was then still the Dauphin (heir to the throne); it was there that we presented the maiden to the nobles and followers of the king.
The knight Jean de Metz:
“Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.” (Mt 6:33)
How much more orderly everything in our lives would be if we would only follow this counsel of the Lord! That spiritual order—which governs all things but has, unfortunately, become so thoroughly disrupted—would be restored. Our Heavenly Father could then very easily provide us with everything, because we would be receptive to it. In a certain sense, we would already be entering into a “life beyond,” for without question, the holy will of God is the most radiant glory of all angels and saints.
Joan kept this secret between God and herself, hidden within her as she grew up over the following years. She spoke to no one about it—not to the local priest, nor to her parents or friends. Guided by her saints, she oriented her entire life toward this mission, and little by little, her saints revealed more and more of it to her.
Young Joan was well aware of France’s dire wartime situation, for the Hundred Years’ War between England and France did not spare her village. The political fragmentation of the country, the various warring factions, and the roaming, plundering bands were a constant threat, and there was no prospect of peace. Undoubtedly, this dire situation was the subject of anxious daily conversation among the residents of Domrémy and the surrounding area.
In the course of this war, the English had gradually brought large areas of France under their control. They allied themselves with the French Burgundians, so that the conquest of all of France—and thus its subjugation to the rule of the English king—became increasingly likely.
“Do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ (…) Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” (Mt 6:31-32)
Very often in Scripture we are warned not to give in to worry, for then we easily lose sight of any way out. Worries can constantly accompany us, gnawing at our vitality, and we look out at the world with a “gloomy” gaze. They are already there in the morning, and they do not leave us even in the evening. Read More
Joan was born on January 6, 1412, in Domrémy, France, the fourth child of Jacques d’Arc and his wife Isabelle. She grew up in humble peasant circumstances, could neither read nor write, learned to spin and sew, and sometimes tended to the household. Her parents were considered devout Christians. Her mother instructed her in the faith.
When, in 1456, as part of the process to vindicate Joan (King Charles VII had ordered an investigation into the truth of the church trial against Joan), witnesses from the village of Domrémy were questioned about her, they gave unanimous testimony in her favor. She was regarded as a devout girl who enjoyed going to church and helping others. May the testimony of the farmer Simonin Musnier from January 30, 1456, stand for many similar testimonies:
“I grew up with Joan, whom they called the Virgin. I lived near her father’s house. Truly, I know how good she was, how simple and pious! She revered God and His saints. She often and gladly went to church and to holy places, comforted the sick, and gave alms to the poor. I experienced this myself: when I was little, I was unwell, and Joan came to comfort me….”
Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
This is the prayer that Jesus entrusted to us so that we may address our divine Father in this familiar way together with Him. Read More
It was May 30, 1431, in Rouen, France, one day after the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity.
A large crowd had gathered that morning in the old market square near the Church of Our Savior. In addition to the gathered people and clergy, many soldiers were present. However, these were not French soldiers. They were English, as Rouen was still under English rule during the Hundred Years’ War between France and England.
A scaffold had been erected, and standing on it was a young woman, nineteen years old. The people had gathered to see this woman—both clergy and laymen.
All eyes were fixed on this young woman.
Who was she? Why was she standing there?
Then Nicolaus Midi, Doctor of Sacred Theology, delivered a sermon to the entire assembly on verse 26 of the First Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians, chapter 12:
“If one member suffers, all suffer together.”
