At Paris' Sacre-Couer, built as an act of rededication by the citizenry, you see Joan, front and center: to the faithful she is a living entity still, an inspiration and a historical, tangible proof of what they believe.
Tangible? With no body, no sepulchre? Precisely, she has become absorbed into and carried in each believer's heart. Even I, a non-believer, have also installed her in my heart.
She is a phenomenon to be reckoned with, as Mark Twain said, a verified miracle. Verified by both her friends and the enemy that torched her and then made sure there was nothing left to make into a relic or to bury in a shrine. Her ashes went into the Seine, and by now no doubt atoms of Joan have dissolved, exchanged and diffused throughout the world.
