My pilgrimage to Mary Help of Christians

The Diocesan Classical Gymnasium in Šentvid has been connected to Brezje and Mary Help of Christians since its establishment in 1905. It is known that its founder, Anton Bonaventura Jeglič, was a fervent devotee of Mary, and thus, upon the founding of the institute, he encouraged students to venerate Mary, including through pilgrimages. His pilgrimage with the first graduates in 1913 to Lourdes is well known, as is the fact that the ‘administrators’ made a pilgrimage to Brezje every year.

After the restoration of the St. Stanislav Institute, or the Diocesan Classical Gymnasium (ŠKG), this tradition was also revived. Not immediately, but a few years later, at the initiative of Archbishop Alojzij Šuštar. In recent years, on the feast of Corpus Christi, students and teachers of ŠKG have made a pilgrimage to Brezje every year. Not all students participate in the pilgrimage; the fourth-year students no longer have classes at that time and are intensively preparing for their final exams. However, many fourth-year students still decide to join the pilgrims from the lower years, probably also for the support of Mary’s help during their final exams. In the past two years, this pilgrimage has taken on a new form. The third-year students make a pilgrimage to Kočevski Rog, to the cave Pod Krenom, where they remember the Stations of the Cross of many young men who were taken from the Institute in May and June of 1945 and executed in the Kočevje forests.

In the first years, we made the pilgrimage to Brezje in several groups: some left on foot from the Institute in the middle of the night, following the usual route along the road; others set out in the morning by bicycle, and a third group traveled by train to Otoče, then walked to Brezje. Soon, we realized that walking on asphalt was too tiring and cycling too dangerous, so we began looking for other options. The principal of the gymnasium, Professor Jože Mlakar, formed a special team of teachers (Obrč, Lavrinec) to find a different, more beautiful, and safer route for the pilgrimage to Brezje. He also invited an expert from the Forest Institute of the Republic of Slovenia to collaborate. After studying the terrain and searching for the best pilgrimage route, the team developed a more suitable new path for the pilgrimage to Brezje. The route has two starting points: Kranj and Škofja Loka. For several years now, students and teachers have set out for the feast of Corpus Christi in Brezje in two large groups: about 100 walk on foot, meaning they travel by bus to Kranj or Škofja Loka, then walk approximately eight hours along forest paths, dirt roads, and meadows west of Kranj, through Čepulje, Dobrava, and Otoče to Brezje; around 200 take the train to Otoče and then join those who walked from Kranj or Škofja Loka.

I have participated in all forms of pilgrimage: twice by bicycle, three times on foot, once from the Institute, and twice from Kranj, and I’ve also traveled by train several times. The foot pilgrimages have remained the most memorable for me, perhaps especially the one from Kranj. In the middle of the night, around two o’clock, we gathered in the institute’s church for a short prayer, set to the rhythm of walking. It was prepared by dedicated teachers of faith and culture. Of course, we were all still a little sleepy from the early hour, and the students found courage by half-whispering jokes. When I look at the students, I see some I would never have thought would go on foot: some I consider less physically coordinated, others not pious enough. I’m glad I was mistaken. After the prayer, we patiently boarded the buses: one to Škofja Loka, the other to Kranj. I sat on the “Kranj” bus.

We turn west at Labora, passing through Stražišče and continuing along the road beneath the forested ridge that darkens ahead of us. Like an army, we quietly arrange ourselves and set off through the overgrown fields. Professor Obrč leads the column, unable to master the slow uphill pace, so the column quickly moves along the dark path lit by headlamps. Some of us fall behind, and the column starts to break apart. At first, there’s little conversation, but soon conversation groups begin to form. I join Director Roman Globokar, and we are soon in lively discussion about the situation in the Slovenian Church, recent theological currents, and cultural-political issues. Yes, it’s good to have a director who chooses the harder, less comfortable path—on it, there’s indeed more time to discuss many things. After about an hour of walking, we stop in a clearing, and those who started from Škofja Loka join us. We have a modest snack. Principal Mlakar has a thermos with real coffee in it. Since there are several coffee drinkers among us, he has to be careful to distribute the indulgent treat so that as many of us as possible are satisfied. After the break, we continue on our way. Tone Česen suggests that we pray the Rosary, and from then on, we move to the rhythm of Hail Marys and Our Fathers. How true it is what we talked about in class when we discussed prayer, its magical-ritual effect, how even non-Christian meditators know about repetition, about mantras that, with their rhythm, lead us into a spiritual state. This prayer, though not very smooth, still maintains its rhythm. And when the repetition ends, after we’ve said all the Hail Marys, there’s a long period of silence—words don’t come so quickly.
But soon, we’re back into conversation, which becomes livelier as raindrops start tapping on the leaves. We open our umbrellas, relieved that it’s daytime and that our path is now downhill. The rain gives the journey a primal, earthy feeling. However, the rain is not heavy, just the humidity that forces its way into our bodies from all sides. The walking pace remains steady. Soon, one of us can no longer continue—lack of stamina. We call our Peter “The Great,” the caretaker, who quickly arrives with a car—first aid, and he takes the tired pilgrim to the destination. The rest of us continue along the somewhat wet path—the rain continues to drizzle from the sky—through forest paths and meadows that seem endless. We too are already feeling the weight in our legs, but the collective will is strong, and the pace does not slow. When we catch sight of the goal at the edge of the forest above Dobrava—the bell tower of the Brezje church—and the path begins to descend towards the Sava River, new energy awakens in us. A debate emerges about the book The Principle of Humanity by Joakim Bauer. In it, the author, as a biologist and scientist, discusses how the essence of life and progress is not the struggle for survival but cooperation, coexistence, and love. A science that supports the Christian vision of humanity and the world. Soon, we reach Otoče, cross the Sava, and, a little dizzy from the sleepless night and sore legs, we conquer the final hill before Brezje.

At the Mass, we are kindly addressed by Father Silvin Krajnc, the rector of the pilgrimage center, and the Mass is celebrated by retired Archbishop Alojz Uran, with our seminarians beside him. Will the sleepless pilgrims hold up? The church is full; with heavy legs, I search for a seat. I find one in the chapel before Mary. How comfortable it is: the ease of sitting, the hum of the church, and before me, the glowing image of Mary. The softness of drowsiness overtakes me, and I am gently rocked into a nap. I wake up during the reading of the Gospel: