"The demand for religious guidance is outpacing the supply by far," said Stollwerk, senior Lutheran pastor at Wetzlar Cathedral, a huge 13th-century edifice jointly used by Protestants and Catholics.

"Alas, the (state-related) church is still ill prepared for the task."

"Germany is thirsting for a spiritual and moral renewal," observed left-leaning Stern magazine, not usually noted for is piety. What has brought about this change in a country where according to recent opinion polls less that half the population still believes in God?

"September 11," replied Stollwerk, "in fact, the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington may have changed the attitude over here even more profoundly than in the United States.

"In America, which has long been much more religious than Europe, people have rallied around the flag as a result of Sept. 11. Here, by contrast, it made people ask the Ultimate Question -- the God question."

France, Germany's neighbor and closest ally in Europe, is experiencing a similar phenomenon, exemplified by a staggering resurgence in Bible sales.

- Coincidentally, one day after Sept. 11, a new translation of Scripture by a collective of French scholars appeared on the market. By the end of that dramatic month, well over 100,000 copies of this massive work, "La Bible -- Nouvelle Traduction" (Paris: Bayard, 2001, 3,170 pages, $42.73), were already sold.

Bayard's is owned by the Augustinians, a monastic order.

- Shortly before Christmas, a publishing house run by another order, the Jesuits, tried to undercut Bayard's success with its reissue of the Jerusalem Bible (Paris: Fleurus/Cerf, 2001, $14.35), touting it as "the most reliable version."

- Meanwhile, "Gloires," Henri Meschennic's new translation of the Psalms (Paris: Editions Desclee de Brouwer, 2001, 555 pages, $20.99), has won the unanimous praise by French critics for its stunning beauty. It is said to be selling well, though not precise figures were available Monday.

France had long been considered the most secularized nation in Western Europe. Yet such is the sudden interest in Scripture that the Comedie Francaise, France's national theater, has been sending the translators around the country for readings and discussions with the public.

Local newspapers report that the theaters are generally packed at these events.

In France, as in Germany, observers of the religious scene are puzzled by the type of people in the vanguard of this renewed interest in Christianity.

"Here in Wetzlar it's Muslim immigrants, especially those of Iranian origin," the Rev. Stollwerk said. "The pace of conversions has accelerated since Sept. 11. There are so many now that I have started special house study groups for them."

Stollwerk added that dozens of prospective converts had approaching him so far. "I have already baptized several. They are generally well educated. Many tell me they have had Damascus-type experiences, in which Christ appeared to them in their dreams."

Another prominent German pastor, the Rev. Christian Ruess, whose New Year's Eve service in Hamburg's landmark Lutheran Michaeliskirche 3,000 worshipers attended Monday, said he had received death threats by phone from the Middle East after baptizing Muslims.

In France, too, ministers report conversions of North Africans living in the vast suburbs of run-down housing estates surrounding the large cities.

"In my congregation, I have a number of Algerians, who attend their mosques on Fridays but then worship here on Sundays," one evangelical pastor told UPI in a telephone call Monday.

He insisted that neither his name nor that of his church be mentioned lest the converts be found out and killed by Muslim fanatics.

More astonishing still is a dramatic change in attitude among French leftists concerning Christianity. Though still a self-confessed atheist and Marxist, former revolutionary Regis Debray suddenly praises religion as a cement without which no society can stay together.

In his newest book, "God, an itinerary" ("Dieu, un itineraire," Paris: Editions Odile Jacob, 2001, 397 pages, $25.65), this former companion of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro readily states, "God is playing a lead role in contemporary history."

Equally astonishing, French Prime Minister Lionel Jospin, a Socialist, appears to be changing his mind about the importance of faith in Europe. Only a few months ago, he insisted that the reference to the continent's religious heritage be edited out of the draft for a new European charter.

After Sept. 11, however, he gave a long interview to La Croix, a 120-year-old Catholic daily, whose circulation has been rising steadily over the last three years and recently passed the 90,000-mark.

Jospin told the interviewers that his parents had been practicing Protestants. "I myself am open to the religions," he said. He described his wife as a dedicated student of the church fathers. "So now I am running into Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria and Augustine every night."

Like their French counterparts, prominent German intellectuals are beginning to take a renewed interest in the faith of their ancestors.

Celebrated film director Wim Wenders told Stern magazine, he still considered the Ten Commandments relevant for his life but suggested an editing job few exegetes would have an argument with: "I would prefer the words, 'you will,' to 'thou shalt.'"

Said Wenders: "It would make a lot of sense to me if we said: 'Man, when you see me as your God and Creator, then you will honor me. Then you will not lie. Then you will not kill."

Biblical scholars would reply: Well, that's precisely what the Decalogue wants to tell us.