Wilzenberg

Schmallenberg-Grafschaft (51.152819 | 8.326082)

Together - be alone

The 'Holy Mountain' of the Sauerland. A place of pilgrimage in the countryside, built on the site of two hill forts from the 2nd century BC and the 9th-10th century AD.

Land of a thousand mountains, yes, but where does one mountain end and the other begin? The hiker is usually presented with this picture: the horizon line runs up from the ridge to the summit and down the other side, only to rise again to the next peak. The peaks are strung together like pearls on a string. Only one stands out. I approach it on a hiking trail from the west. It seems imposing not because of its height, 658 meters, but because it stands alone. The Wilzenberg rises up in front of me as a cone with a flattened peak. Without leaning against another mountain ridge. It stands on its own. That inspires respect.

Many paths lead around and up the mountain. I head west and find a path that leads steeply upwards. It feels like I'm climbing up an alpine path, sweating, with new views far into the countryside every time I turn around. On a terrace on the slope, I discover a pond filled with a gently babbling spring. It is called Brauers Deyk. The Bruder-Teich enabled hermits to stay up on the mountain, both in summer and winter. They gave shelter to pilgrims and lived off their offerings. According to written records, the last hermit was God-fearing, with a huge beard. Alone with the Most High. Until sometime around 1850, he lived and prayed at mountain level, renouncing the village community, close to heaven.

Further on, between sparse beech trees, further up. Then the path flattens out almost abruptly and I walk towards two chapels. Ancient place of worship: a chapel on the Wilzenberg was mentioned as early as 1543, the current Marienkapelle was built in 1633. What magically attracts me, however, is the group of three wooden crosses that I see between the buildings. I have always been moved by this intense scene: Jesus in the middle, to the left and right the two robbers who were crucified with him. In his desperate cry, "My God, why have you forsaken me?", the Savior is all alone. And yet he also sees his fellow sufferers and finds good words for them: "I tell you, this very day you will be with me in paradise." Greatest pain and paradisiacal redemption, merged into a single moment.

This is how the high cross, a few meters further on and even higher, appears as a sign of hope. It rises 28 meters into the sky. Five tons of steel, four cables: That won't last for eternity, but at least it will last longer than the wooden structures, which have been raised time and again since the 17th century and have repeatedly fallen into disrepair. Visible from afar, also due to the Wilzenberg's unique position, the cross attracts hikers and pilgrims alike.

Sitting on a bench in front of the crucifixion group, alone with my thoughts, devout in the best sense of the word, I feel like a hermit myself for a while. They call it the "Holy Mountain" in Sauerland. In the moment of silence, with distance from everyday life left behind somewhere at the foot of the mountain, I can understand why. Even in pre-Christian times, when a rampart castle provided refuge for the people around it, offerings could have been made here. Many mythologies and religions venerate mountains as the seat of the gods, from Kailash in Tibet to the Greek Olympus and Uluru, the red mountain of the Aborigines. Perhaps this is, as they say, "still in us". Perhaps this is the reason why we humans are determined to climb every mountain we can reach: to get close to the higher powers.

Being alone on the Wilzenberg is one way to use it for salvation. Making a pilgrimage up there with others is another. Hans Robert Schrewe, a member of the church council and other volunteers from Grafschaft with close ties to the chapels and crosses on the Wilzenberg, quotes impressive figures: In 2018, there were 26 church services, around 3000 pilgrims were counted, including 600 marksmen alone, who gather for the pilgrimage every three years. Young and old alike have always associated the pilgrimage to the feast of the Visitation of Mary with the smell of coffee and the taste of sweet Berliners to the sound of the band. Something to snack on after the nourishment of the soul.

Schrewe is often fascinated by the mountain, its rich history and charisma, its obvious beauty and the way it keeps secrets for itself. (Did a noblewoman, Chuniza, live up there who poisoned seven husbands before doing severe penance?) This is why he is also involved in the parish's efforts to maintain the pilgrimage site. And that costs a lot of time and money. "You could say that the Wilzenberg is very dear to us."

What makes him particularly happy are the many young people he meets up there. What touches him the most, however, is "when I observe how even those who are initially excited and loud slowly become quiet when they think about themselves". They obviously experience something that our minds don't understand: that you can be with others AND be completely with yourself at the same time. Finally, climbing the lookout tower, opening our eyes to the beauty of nature around us - a different mountain experience.

Author: Michael Gleich