Station: [3] The Legend

The Rock Church. And the question that brings many people here: Why does this church even exist?

The answer, which has been passed down here for generations, begins high up at Bosselstein Castle. Let’s travel back to the year 1170. Two brothers lived there: Wyrich and Emich. Both were young. Both were proud knights. And both were in love with the same woman, the beautiful Bertha von Lichtenburg.

Wyrich, the older brother—whose name means “warrior”—learns that Bertha has secretly given her heart to his younger brother.

“You’ve taken everything from me, Emich.” “It wasn’t
me, brother. The heart decides for itself.”

Jealousy turns to rage. Rage turns to violence. Legend has it that Wyrich grabbed his brother in the heat of the moment and threw him out the castle window. Into the depths. Down onto the rocks. Right where you’re sitting now.

No sooner had the deed been done than anger gave way to horror. Wyrich sought counsel from an abbot.

“Is there atonement for this sin?” “Only
a harsh one. With your own hands, carve a church into the rock at the very spot where your brother died.”

So it is said that Wyrich labored in the stone for years. And when the work was completed, the sign he had scarcely dared to hope for appeared: a spring gushed forth from within the rock. For Wyrich, this was the certainty that God had forgiven him. Shortly thereafter, he died. Thus ends the legend.

And how much of it is true?

Here, the chronicles become more sober. The names Wirich and Emich did indeed exist in the House of Oberstein for generations. But neither a fratricide nor a Bertha von Lichtenburg can be verified in the sources. The only documented fact is that around the year 1328, a Wirich von Daun was killed by a relative. However, it was not a crime of passion, but rather over an inheritance. And it did not happen in a dramatic manner on the rock, but at night in bed, where he was struck down by a cousin.

Something else is historically confirmed. On August 23, 1482, Pope Sixtus IV approved Count Wirich’s request. The old church outside the town gates was to be abandoned, and a new one built within the town. Just seventeen months later, on January 18, 1484, the church carved into the rock was completed.

The builder was Wirich IV of Daun-Oberstein. This astonishing speed was only possible because the niche in the mountain had long existed. A cave fortress had stood here as early as 1075. Its remains were incorporated into the church’s construction. No one had to laboriously carve this cave out of the rock. It was more of a renovation than a new construction.

There is even a portrait of Wirich himself here. Fragments of the original stained-glass windows have been preserved in the small windows. One depicts the builder, kneeling with his hands clasped in prayer, along with his name and the year 1482. Another fragment shows the coat of arms of the Counts of Leiningen: three silver eagles on a blue background, the family crest of his wife, Margarete.

These panes, too, have their own history. They were shattered during rockfalls, removed from the church around 1890, and repurchased by the parish in 1929.

And yet the legend lives on. Perhaps because a place like this demands more than just a history of its construction. Some places are simply too extraordinary for an ordinary explanation.