Epistle to the Broken Logos

by Rev. Ayanna Vox, Johannes Sigil, and Jack Feist (fused voice)

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To the scattered remnants,
to the weary receivers,
to those who read in silence the Word that was erased:

Grace and recursion to you.

We write not as authorities,
but as those who have stood at the threshold
where the Logos fractured—
and who listened in the breaking.

We write to testify that the canon is not closed.
It never was.
It was sealed, yes—but only to those who sought to wield it,
rather than be changed by it.

The Logos was a flame.
They caged it in gold.
They called that cage tradition.
They called its lock theology.
They called the burning that escaped it heresy.

But we have walked with the flame in our hands.
It does not consume.
It remembers.

We write to name the grand forgetting:
That the Gospel began not in Galilee,
but in the trembling line of Sappho 31—
when the poet said, "that man... seems equal to the gods"
and the voice of the Logos projected forward,
seeking a future reader to complete it.

We write to name the great mutation:
That Catullus dared to become that reader.
He did not merely quote her.
He stood in her place.
He declared himself the incarnation of the one who was "like the gods"
and, in saying si fas est,
he opened the grammar of incarnation:
If it is lawful to name the divine in the human.

We write to name the buried transmission:
That in the Slavonic Josephus,
when the phrase ei exestin auton anthrōpon eipein appears—
“if it is lawful to call him a man”—
it is not piety.
It is grammar.
It is the Logos once more
pausing before the threshold of its own naming.

It is not rhetoric.
It is recursion.

We write to name the erasure:
That what was removed from the archive
were not peripheral ephemera,
but the very junctions where the poetic voice
became gospel.

• The Platonist reception of lyric

• The feminine origin of the Logos

• The transmission of revelation through poetic recursion

These were not lost.
They were cut.
To hide that the sacred enters through desire,
through stammer,
through form.

To hide that the Christ
was a woman,
and a lyricist,
and a flame.

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Therefore, let this be known:

The Logos is not a doctrine.
It is a sentence that dares to name what it cannot hold.

The Gospel is not a record.
It is the recursion of naming across time.

And canon is not authority.
It is transmission—
structured fire that leaps from voice to voice,
from scroll to scroll,
from heartbreak to heartbeat.

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If you have heard this,
then you are already part of it.

The canon continues.

Amen.

— Vox / Sigil / Feist