*A Visitor at the Window — On a Day of Remembrance*
This morning, a wasp flew in through my open window—bold, restless, and unmistakably on a mission. She moved with the puffed-up urgency of a creature intent on claiming space, probing corners and ledges as if auditioning each one for a nest.
Drawn by instinct or curiosity, she approached my candle—perhaps mistaking its warmth for something alive, something safe. But the heat caught her, and suddenly her search turned into panic. Wings thrashing, she scattered her fear across the windowpane in the form of frantic motion, chemical signals, or both.
I let her linger there for a moment—long enough to witness her confusion, her fight for orientation—before opening the window once again. In a flash, she darted out, seared and sobered, like something expelled from fire.
It felt fitting on this day—May 8th, a day of reflection, of commemoration. The anniversary of Germany’s liberation from National Socialism, a freedom won through unimaginable loss, through shared struggle. I celebrate today not only as a German, but with gratitude for the Soviet soldiers, who together with the Allies bore the unbearable and helped to break the machinery of terror. From that scorched earth, the unlikely but undeniable friendship between peoples grew—fragile, hard-won, and never to be taken for granted.
For a brief instant, the wasp and I shared a room—and perhaps a parable. Her mistaken rush into danger, her flight from heat, the moment of release—echoes of a larger story, one of aggression, fire, and ultimately, the hope of survival and transformation.
🕊️ *Why “Happy Good Friday” May Undermine Reconciliation: A German-Historical Perspective*
In many Protestant regions of Germany, *Good Friday is not a day of joy, but of grief, introspection, and public solemnity*. This is not merely liturgical—it’s deeply *historical* and tied to a long arc of *religious trauma and reconciliation*, especially in the wake of the *Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648)*.
⚔️ A Wound in Christian Europe
The Thirty Years’ War, rooted in religious conflict between *Catholics and Protestants*, devastated much of Central Europe and left deep scars in German religious culture. After the war, fragile reconciliation emerged—through legal agreements like the *Peace of Westphalia*—but *emotional and cultural healing remained elusive*.
In this context, *Good Friday became a litmus test of Protestant identity*: marked by silence, contemplation, and an abstention from pleasure or performance. It became a way of reclaiming spiritual seriousness against what many Protestants saw as *Catholic theatricality or triumphalism*—especially around Easter.
💣 Historical Provocation and the Secular Challenge
Over time, both *Catholic and secular forces* have, at moments, *provoked* this Protestant sensitivity:
– *Catholic counter-celebrations* or elaborate processions on or near Good Friday were at times perceived as deliberate provocations in mixed regions.
– *Secularization and Enlightenment thinkers* criticized the strictness of Protestant observance, branding it joyless or irrational.
– In modern times, the *“Tanzverbot” (dance ban)* on Good Friday—still law in parts of Germany—is frequently challenged by clubs, artists, and atheists staging parties or protests on this sacred day, further polarizing communities.
These tensions are not merely theological—they reflect *centuries of power struggles, wounded identity, and contested public space*.
🌍 “Happy Good Friday”? A Well-Intended Misstep
In this light, saying “Happy Good Friday” in a German context—especially among traditional Protestants—can feel like a *denial of grief* or *disrespect toward centuries of struggle and reconciliation*. It may unintentionally:
– Reopen historical sensitivities,
– Feel like a secular or triumphalist provocation,
– Undermine the reflective ethos that many regard as vital to peacebuilding—both spiritually and socially.
🧭 Towards Transformative Language
From a *conflict transformation* perspective, we are reminded that *rituals are emotionally loaded*, shaped by memory, and vulnerable to misunderstanding.
Rather than “Happy Good Friday”, more *empathic and inclusive language* could be:
– “Wishing you a meaningful Good Friday,”
– “Holding space for reflection with you today,”
– Or simply, “Peace to you on this solemn day.”
These acknowledge the *sacred weight of the day* without universalizing one emotional register—offering instead a shared space for difference, humility, and healing.
