SAVED FROM THE BOMB
A TREE OF LIFE OF ALL THINGS
'The most beautiful cemetery in the world' is a superlative that a Dutch author got carried away with. Perhaps also because of this story: a cemetery that saves lives. That was on Easter Sunday 1945, one of the last days of the war. The church was full. An Allied plane dropped a 500-kilogram bomb over Wormbach. It hit a sturdy tree whose branches cushioned and deflected the bomb. It landed in the soft earth between two graves without exploding. A tree of life, of all things, saved them from the deadly bomb. It also survived. Today, it makes up for the war injury with three spikes.
As a boy, Johannes Tigges used to walk through the cemetery on his way to school every day. At the end of the 1950s, high scaffolding in the church aroused his curiosity. Painters and artists were working under the cross vault. One day they beckoned him to climb up. He witnessed how 14 layers of lime paint were being removed with fine spatulas. Underneath, the symbol of the scales was revealed. A magical act. "I was gripped by this church back then," recalls the now 70-year-old. It has never let go of him. For 20 years, he has been taking groups to the church of St. Peter and Paul in Wormbach, the real place of power, and telling true stories and amusing tales.
"Shall we be on first-name terms?" he suggests, as this is how it is in the village. He sits down on the 'men's side' in one of the front benches and gets started. It has been proven that the current church was built around 1250. Late Romanesque architectural style, earth-colored paintings. However, there were much older predecessors on the same site. And the trail leads to uncertain terrain: was the original church of the Sauerland located in Wormbach? A wooden building? Built by the missionary Boniface in the eighth century? Was Wormbach a Celtic place of worship in the many centuries before that? Johannes thinks the latter is likely: "Back then, the missionaries' motto was: Build the churches on the cult sites of the Germanic tribes." Clever move, reinterpreting pagan places in Christian terms and continuing to use their power.
Since his experience on the painter's scaffold, Johannes has been fascinated by the twelve zodiac symbols under the cross vault. He suspects an influence from the Benedictines from the nearby Grafschaft monastery. Their wealth of knowledge included astronomical knowledge. They may even have wielded the paintbrush in Wormbach themselves. The constellations seem to proclaim a message. They are arranged in a way that suggests to researchers that they are a kind of calendar. With the help of the position of the sun and the incidence of light through the windows, it was possible to read the date of the most important Christian festival, Easter as a movable feast day. Johannes loves to captivate his listeners with exciting stories. Including the one that Schmallenberg-Wormbach could have been part of a pre-Christian observatory, similar to the monument at Stonehenge in England.
The fact is that the church was located at the crossroads of important paths. Bodies were sometimes transported over many kilometers on the so-called paths of the dead to be buried in Wormbach soil. Christian converts made their way into Germanic territory along the Heidenstraße, which ran from Cologne to Kassel. Today, the yellow shell on a blue background adorns long stretches of this route, symbolizing the Way of St. James. Another rededication.
PLACE OF WORSHIP, CROSSING POINT, CULTURAL ASSET
- AND THEREFORE A PLACE OF POWER TODAY
What is the truth behind all the speculation and riddles? Johannes says: "For me, it is proven that Wormbach was already a very important place in pre-Christian times." A place of worship, a crossroads, a cultural asset - and therefore a place of worship today.
Farmer Johannes, as he is known in the village, is not a farmer. As the eldest son, he was destined to inherit the farm and trained as a master farmer. But at the age of 23, a serious accident thwarted his predetermined life plan. He was in a coma for six days. When he woke up, the doctors predicted that he would never be able to leave his wheelchair. With an iron will, he trained with crutches. At some point, he left one of them out, then both, and learned to walk with orthopaedic shoes. Instead of a farmer, he became a businessman and later a restaurateur, converting his parents' farm into a family hotel. His face is weather-beaten, he is out and about a lot. At any time of year, he guides guests through cemeteries, death trails and pilgrim paths, bringing history to life, setting up punch lines and spinning narrative threads. The Australian Aborigines sing their country when they go on a walkabout; Johannes tells his country and goes on a talkabout. His strong hands and arms show him to be someone who can tackle things. At the same time, he is soft and touchable. "Today I built close to the water," he says, a part of the yard he was very attached to being torn down. He lets the tears flow. A real people person.
He tells me about a spiritual experience he recently had in church. "I sat down in one of the pews with four others late at night. It was pitch black except for the eternal light. We had agreed not to make the slightest noise for half an hour." He is still amazed today at what happened next. Gradually, the contours of the pillars and vaults emerged from the blackness, "the church became light in the darkness." During the silent meditation, he thought back to those times when there were no pews and the faithful had to stand. Mass was held in Latin, which none of the villagers understood. "That's why the pictures on the walls and up under the ceiling were so important to the people."
At a Spiritual Summer event, Buddhists, Jews, Hindus and Muslims came together in the church alongside Christians. They spoke about the importance of light in their respective religions. "They were wonderfully harmonious moments, I thought that was powerful." Unusual words from someone who sees himself as a conservative. I also experience him as one of those tolerant, welcoming companions who make places of power shine. And I take another insight with me when I leave Wormbach: it takes background knowledge to understand a place like this. But you can also leave something open. A few secrets. That leaves room for the imagination to play.