In the Winkel forest the church festivals must take the place of that
which in the outside world they call art.
As, according to my poor ability, I set up a manger for the Christmas
celebration, so Ehrenwald and his sons have now made a sepulchre for
Easter.
In the side aisles of the church stand, as entrance gates, four high
wooden arches, covered with pictures from the story of the Passion. The
innermost arches are narrower than the outer ones, and in a niche in the
shadowy background is the grave of Jesus. Above it is the table for the
sacred utensils, surrounded by a circle of bright-coloured lamps. On
either side of the grave stand two Roman slaves as sentinels. During
the celebration of the Resurrection, the dead Christ disappears, and
within the circle of lamps rises the scarred body of the risen Saviour
with the palm of victory in His hand.
There is a great charm in the whole celebration. It is preceded by the
period of fasting which, day by day, increases in solemnity; for weeks
there is no music, the pictures are veiled. Good Friday approaches.
First the imposing Palm Sunday, then the mysterious Maundy Thursday, the
gloomy, sad Good Friday, and the quiet Saturday. In this calm one feels
a foreboding and longing and the word of the Prophet gently reminds us:
His grave shall be glorious!
Once more the house of God is obscured like Golgotha in the darkness;
then the red and green lamps gleam, and the festival tapers sparkle--and
suddenly the joyful cry is heard: "He is risen!" Now the bells are
rung, guns are fired and the air is filled with joyous melodies, the
flaming red banners are waved, and the people go forth into the open
air, their lanterns glowing in the twilight as they disappear in the
woods.
In the cities the celebration is much greater and far more imposing.
But where is the feeling, the true, hopeful joy in the Resurrection,
which inspires the believing poor! Seeking for inward peace, the
dwellers in the city turn away from the churchyard, murmuring: "In truth
we _hear_ the message."