The crucified Jesus appeared on a piece of cloth in Walldürn sometime during the 14th century. Since then, thousands of pilgrims have flocked to the town in the Odenwald region each year. They are usually received by the Polish Minorite Josef Bregula, who has organised the pilgrimage for two decades.
Father Josef sits in his black robe at his desk. The desk in his office is empty. There is nothing to indicate that in only a few weeks all hell will break loose here in the Odenwald. Although ‘hell’ in this context might be the wrong word, since we are talking about a miracle that is said to have happened just a few hundred meters away from Father Josef’s desk almost 700 years ago—and made Walldürn popular among Catholics throughout the world.
In the 17th century, the archbishop of Mainz had the basilica built as it is now. Its construction took 30 years.
And that even though the miracle initially had been a mistake. In 1330, Priest Heinrich Otto is said to have knocked over a chalice during service at the Church of St George in Walldürn, which no longer exists today. In it was the already consecrated wine—thus, according to Catholic belief, the blood of the Lord. It spilled over the corporal, a square linen cloth that is spread out on the altar during Eucharist celebrations, forming the image of the crucified Jesus—surrounded by eleven heads with crowns of thorns. It frightened Heinrich Otto, so he hid the cloth behind a stone at the altar, and he only brought it up again on his deathbed. After hearing his general confession, the priest then hastened to the church and found the corporal. This is how the miracle came into the world. Ever since then, every year in the four weeks following Pentecost, tens of thousands of pilgrims have been flocking to this village of 12,000 inhabitants in the Neckar-Odenwald district.
The altar of the Holy Blood was crafted from alabaster and sandstone by Zacharis Juncker during the baroque era.
Yet, on this spring morning in Walldürn it is still calm and quiet. In the town and in the basilica. Father Josef steps into the vestry to fetch the key for the altar of the Holy Blood, which was crafted from alabaster and sandstone by Zacharis Juncker. All you can hear are the footsteps of the clergyman coming back with a bunch of keys and a wooden ladder. He opens the altar rail, climbs up the four steps of the ladder and is now standing on the altar. The relic, which is kept in a precious silver shrine, is now only two doors away that open up like window shutters. And here it is—the shrine: behind the glass you can spot a grey piece of cloth.
“The Augustinian monks proved in the 1950s that there actually are traits of an image on the cloth,” Father Josef says. Proof like that, though, usually is not of much interest to the pilgrims. “People come here with an understanding that the journey can heal, too.” Each year, about one hundred groups of “hiking pilgrims” have been journeying to Walldürn, the dark-haired father with the black horn-rimmed glasses says approvingly. “Yet, the groups themselves have got smaller and smaller each year.”
In the 14th century, this was quite different. The news of the “miracle of the blood” of Walldürn spread like wildfire. People flocked in great numbers to the site so they could venerate the relic of the corporal. In 1445, Pope Eugene IV officially acknowledged the event as a miracle. Those who arrived on a pilgrimage to the relic on the eighth day after Corpus Christi were granted indulgence—an absolution of their sins. This explains why prime time for pilgrimages to Walldürn still is right after Whitsun. In the 17th century then, the archbishop of Mainz—back then Walldürn belonged to the cathedral city canonically—had the basilica built as it is now. Its construction took 30 years.
“Der Glaube ist in unserer Familie tief verwurzelt.
Pater Josef
Since then, clergy people have taken care of the groups of pilgrims. Augustinian monks were in charge of the basilica since 1938, but as there were not enough new priests, Franciscan Minorites eventually moved into the building opposite the church in 2007. Since that time, Father Josef has been responsible for the pilgrims. Born as Josef Bregula in Chorzów, Poland at the beginning of the 1960s, he was ordained as a priest and entered the order of the Minorites in his mid-20s. “Faith is deeply ingrained in our family,” Father Josef says, as he is asked about his path to the church. His mother’s brother as well as her sister—Father Josef’s uncle and aunt, that is—are both members of the clergy. His uncle even met Maximilian Kolbe, the famous Franciscan priest who died in Auschwitz concentration camp in 1941.
Father Josef himself came to Germany rather by accident. He was at first appointed to Duisburg in 1990, although he did not speak one word of German back then. “You were born in Silesia, and there are Germans living there,” was the explanation given back then. After almost two decades in the Ruhr region, he finally commenced his duties in Walldürn. Since that time, he has organised the pilgrimage—or rather orchestrated it, to use a more fitting term. For, together with three fellow priests and around 60 lay persons, the priest spends weeks meticulously planning the arrangements for the pilgrimage groups visiting the basilica. While birds sing their songs outside across the empty church square, while the large, grass-covered flight of stairs in front of the majestic church building still offers plenty of space, while the traders of devotional objects push their goods—amongst them candles of all sizes—onto the streets in baskets, Father Josef wipes his hand over the desk as if there was something to clear away. He says: “There is a list for each day.” 28 to-do lists for 28 days.
On these, it says, for instance, which group of pilgrims arrives on what day at what time. Most of the pilgrims walk to Walldürn, as Father Josef says. The most distant place of departure is Cologne. From there it takes seven days. The largest group arrives from Fulda with 500 to 600 pilgrims altogether. “We pick up each group personally at a previously defined spot outside Walldürn and escort them into town.” This task is usually carried out by ministrants or servers. They carry church banners on these occasions bearing the image of the Blood of Christ.
The pilgrims choose their accommodation themselves—hotels, youth hostels, camp sites or private rooms. There are, however, also invited guests, politicians or bishops of other dioceses, as Father Josef points out. They are also treated to champagne receptions and lunches. And then the church services! On weekends there are six or seven, during the week at least two each day, some beginning at 5 o’clock in the morning, because the pilgrims have to set off again, back home. It is a stressful time for Father Josef, indeed. Especially so, since it isn’t exactly early when he can go to sleep. “Some pilgrims like to celebrate quite a bit,” he says. And afterwards, the place needs to be tidied up and cleaned; after all, the many pilgrims coming and going in the basilica leave their mark. “Of course, we are happy to do this,” Father Josef says. But the effort he makes together with innumerable helpers is perceivable in many places—and it is huge. In the altar room, for instance, the sacristan sprays gloss varnish on artificial flowers. “During the pilgrimage season, though, real flowers are used for all the flower decorations,” Father Josef quickly adds.
The relic itself is usually only put on display during the main pilgrimage season. The altar, however, is sacrosanct for ordinary mortals. Yet, a cleverly designed staircase at the back of the altar leads behind the relic—this way pilgrims can get really close to it. On Corpus Christi, the silver shrine is carried in the procession through the village; for this purpose, it is placed on a special mount carried by several people.
Father Josef looks at his watch somewhat furtively. The lists are calling. Those of the next year as well. “After the pilgrimage is before the pilgrimage,” he says pragmatically. In his thoughts, he is already considering the next year and the one after that and especially the year 2030. This is the year the miracle of Walldürn celebrates its 700th anniversary. Father Josef and the mayor of Walldürn invited none other than Pope Leo himself, because he was already here in the Odenwald, on 10 June 2004 that was. The Pope, who back then was still called Pater Robert Prevost, had visited an Augustinian brother in Würzburg. He in turn, had been invited to the church service in Walldürn and brought him along, who later gave a sermon in the basilica—in English. The evidence can be found in the form of the sermon book in the sacristy. “Here is the entry written by the Pope himself,” Father Josef says, opening the heavy blue book the right page listing all the preachers right back to the year 1902. The Vatican, however, has not commented on the invitation yet. But who knows—maybe there will be a miracle.
Tips for excursions and interesting stories about the Rhine-Neckar region can be found regularly in our newsletter.
And this is how it works: Enter your email address in the field and click subscribe. You will then receive an automatically generated message at the email address you entered, which you only need to confirm. Done!
