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It is early Sunday morning, still dark in
January, and the luxury of sleeping in is shattered by the sudden window-rattling ringing of
the church bells. They ring with a vengeance making sure that everyone in the beautiful,
old town are aware that this is the day to come to the Basilique and worship. My bed
shakes as if the bells are speaking directly to me. It is not surprising since the church
is as large as many European cathedrals even though it is in the small town of
Echternach (pronounced esh-ter-knock), Luxembourg. And even less
surprising since the church is my next-door neighbor. I can look out my bedroom
window and see many of the former church members as they lie in the churchyard cemetery,
gravestones so close to one another and leaning as if listening to what the other is saying.
The bells must be loud this time of year since they will soon be silenced by Lent and
their annual "visit" to the Pope in Rome to be blessed.
Inside the church are many wonders that I never failed to
enjoy sharing with visitors. The beautiful crypt of St. Wilibrord, the town's patron
saint and an Irishman at that, lies in the basement enclosed in a glassed room to keep
out souvenir hunters. In a room next to the Saint you can look at the ceiling and barely
see the painting that for hundreds of years was reputed to be one of only two artistic
works depicting a pregnant Mary, mother of Jesus! In another smaller room are two
ancient crypts, their tops just open enough to make everyone hesitate before looking in.
The town of Echternach lies on the border with
Germany and is surrounded by the beautiful Sure River, wooded areas, and hills and
rocks with waterfalls. The town has many narrow, cobble-stoned streets and ancient
ramparts, wonderful to explore. For all those reasons thousands of tourists from all
over the world visit every year, especially in the summer when this country of four
distinct seasons is warm during the day and pleasant at night. The Town Hall is
fairly new--a 15th century medieval structure that endured centuries of abuse only
to be tormented almost to ruin by the bombs of both World Wars.
It is the past, though, that really keeps this town
alive and in the minds of people wishing to show loyalty and allegiance to the Saint.
St. Wilibrord came to this area of Luxembourg in the 7th century to set up a Benedictine
Abbey when Europe was still in the Dark Ages. His legacy, however, is kept alive by
an annual event that has its roots with the Black Plague and the itinerant flagellants
who walked the Continent performing their self-abusive acts in the name of salvation.
On Whit Tuesday of every year (late May or early June) thousands of Europeans come in
groups of twenty, thirty or more and take part in a dancing procession. Each group lines
up in rows, perhaps 6 to a row, each dancer connected to the other with a cloth or
handkerchief. When the dancing begins the first row jumps to the right and the second to the
left, with following rows alternating. A group might have its own band following it or
be sharing with another group. The dancing does not change, only consists of jumping back
and forth while moving forward, all to the same tune, hour after hour. For the dancer
the trance is broken only by an imploring speech following each tune, "St. Wilibrord,
a true voice of God! - St. Wilibrord, an overthrower of idols! Pray for us, St. Wilibrord."
For the watcher, the trance never ends and never fails to entertain.
I was a teenager living in a pre-medieval town in the 20th century
and I was in awe of its past. I even became resentful of the infringement of modern life,
aware for the first time of the problems this created for much of Europe, not just
Echternach. The people of the town had the right to be a part of the 20th century,
but didn't I, as a visiting resident of the town, have the right to its history?
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