The moving history of Maria Waldrast

Die freie Enzyklopädie Wikipedia. Online, https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2d/Reinhold-stecher.jpg(12.3.2026)

High above the Wipp Valley, at an altitude of 1638 meters, lies the Maria Waldrast monastery – one of the oldest and most famous Marian pilgrimage sites in Tyrol.
In 1407, two shepherd boys from Müggens near Matrei discovered a votive image of the Mother of God. They brought it to the parish church in Matrei, where it first began to be venerated. A pious soldier named Christian Lufich advocated for the construction of a chapel at the site where it was found. With the support of the Diocese of Brixen, he collected donations and completed the first dedicated house of worship for the image in 1429. Soon, the chapel developed into a much-visited pilgrimage site.
In 1473, Archduke Sigmund endowed a benefice, and shortly thereafter, a house was built for the pastor, which also offered accommodation to pilgrims. As the crowds steadily grew, two assistant priests were sometimes employed during the 16th century.
In 1621, Archduke Leopold personally laid the foundation stone for a Servite monastery, which was completed and occupied in 1624. His successor, Claudia de' Medici, handed over the monastery, along with all its rights and revenues, to the Servites in 1644.
The following decades were a golden age for the pilgrimage. Numerous votive offerings and endowments from farmers, citizens, and princes testify to the great significance of Maria Waldrast as a national sanctuary. In 1723/24, the monastery had to be rebuilt due to dilapidation, with Emperor Charles VI supporting the construction with 900 guilders.
A momentous event came in 1785 under Emperor Joseph II. As part of his monastic suppressions, Maria Waldrast was also dissolved. The votive image had to be transferred to Mieders, while the church and monastery were auctioned off and eventually demolished.
Events during the National Socialist era were particularly dramatic. After the Servites were expelled, the votive image remained alone in the locked church. On the night of April 17th to 18th, 1941, unknown individuals took the risky step of secretly removing the image from the church and bringing it to safety from the Gestapo. It eventually made its way to Neuwied near Cologne. After the war, the image returned.
On July 12, 1945, Father Albuin M. Klingler, acting as trustee for the Servites, once again took possession of Maria Waldrast. The return of the votive image was intended to be the final step in restoring the pilgrimage site to a spiritual center for the people and homeland. (Source: Tiroler Tageszeitung, Saturday, November 10, 1945, p. 2. (Report: Provincial of the Servites, P. Innozenz M. Krub)

"This is our land!" – When the Tyroleans stood up to the Gestapo

While Franz Mair and Hans Madersbacher were retrieving the Madonna from the locked church of Maria Waldrast during the night of April 18, 1941, no one yet suspected the explosion that would occur on the mountain just two days later. The secret rescue of the miraculous image had succeeded – but the pilgrimage on Sunday, April 20, 1941, would become an open trial of strength between the Tyrolean faithful and the Gestapo.

A Pilgrimage as a Profession of Their Catholic Faith

What had begun as a spontaneous conversation in the parlor of the Glasnhof farmhouse had grown into a courageous demonstration. The theology students Reinhold Stecher, Hermann Lugger, Anton Hilber and Georg Schuchter had promoted the idea in their hometowns: to journey up to the locked church on "White Sunday" – which fell, of all days, on Adolf Hitler's birthday. No protest chant, no political manifesto – simply to pray, there, where it was forbidden. A silent, yet all the more powerful, resistance.
And the people came. From the Stubai and Wipp Valleys, from Steinach, from Schönberg, even from Innsbruck, they streamed up the mountain. Men and women, young lads and elderly farmwives, children of First Communion age in white dresses and dark suits. They all wanted to send a message: Faith cannot be forbidden.

The Gestapo Trapped

Up on the Waldrast, however, the Gestapo was waiting. Four men, armed and nervous. They had orders to prevent the pilgrimage, to disperse the people. But what they encountered exceeded their worst fears: hundreds of faithful filling the square in front of the locked church, praying, singing, unwavering.
The Gestapo was outnumbered. And they had no telephone – no way to call for reinforcements. Trapped on the mountain, surrounded by a crowd that refused to be intimidated. The officers walked around with their hands on their pistol grips, photographing the pilgrims, noting down names. But the crowd did not retreat.

The Discovery of Theft

At some point, one of them must have noticed: the church lock was intact, but the Madonna was gone. The Gestapo sensed a connection. Anger and helplessness mingled as they realized that a few nights earlier, someone had stolen the monastery's most precious treasure right under their noses.
One of the officers stepped forward and shouted at the crowd: "You must clear the square immediately! Last night, the statue of the Mother of God was stolen from the church by Catholics!"
For a moment, silence. Then, from the crowd, the voice of a 15-year-old boy from Schönberg rang out: "How do you know it was Catholics who did it?"
The question struck like a knife. It exposed the arbitrariness of the accusation. The Gestapo reacted as they always reacted: "That one's under arrest!" And they seized the youth.

"We're Not Leaving!"

What happened next was the pent-up anger of a people defending themselves. A cry went through the crowd. "Let the boy go immediately!" the people shouted. "You can't do things like that!"
The Gestapo again ordered the square to be cleared. But the Tyroleans stood their ground. And then they shouted that sentence, which echoed across the mountain like a beacon: "We're not leaving! This is our Tyrolean land and soil! Until you release the boy, we're not going anywhere! You have no right to arrest him!"
The four Gestapo men faced a crowd that was no longer afraid. They pulled out their cameras, snapped faces, noted names – but they could do nothing. No reinforcements, no telephone, no authority to shoot into such a crowd. They were trapped in their own powerlessness.

The Innkeeper and the Fear of the Gestapo

Later, the innkeeper of the guesthouse on the Waldrast recounted what had happened behind the scenes. The Gestapo men had stormed into the inn, pale and agitated. "Is this a Tyrolean uprising now?" they asked each other. "If the Tyroleans kill the four of us up here – then no one will ever find us."
In that moment, high up in the mountains, far from any reinforcements, the men of the regime felt what it meant to face a united population. For a brief instant, the balance of power had reversed.

Maria Mair's Worries and Fears

While this drama was unfolding on the mountain, Maria Mair sat down at the Glasnhof and listened to the reports of those returning home. When she was told that Aunt Toni – the only one from the family who had gone to the pilgrimage – had been caught in the middle of this upheaval, anger welled up inside her. "I got enormously upset," she recalls. "We didn't want Toni to go along and possibly get arrested."
The concern for family, the fear of informants, the omnipresent threat – all of this weighed heavily on her. And yet: in that hour on the mountain, when the Tyroleans stood together, something significant had happened. Resistance had acquired a face. No armed uprising, no outburst of hatred – but the sheer presence of people who refused to look away.

Aftermath

The 15-year-old boy from Schönberg? He was released – the Gestapo dared not take him away before the eyes of the crowd. But others paid the price: Msgr. Weisskopf and Msgr. Kolb, who had negotiated with the Gestapo about the Madonna, were arrested. Pastor Sieberer as well. Leni Madersbacher, who had led the rosary prayers at the front, had her name noted down. And Hans Madersbacher, who had rescued the Madonna that night, argued loudly with the Gestapo during the pilgrimage – conspicuous, fearless, but fortunately unrecognized as the nighttime rescuer. Leni and Hans Madersbacher were arrested the next day, April 21, 1941. Toni from the Glasnhof was to be taken into protective custody for five weeks. Franz Mair and his brother Dr. Josef Mair also ended up imprisoned in the Gestapo prison "Hotel Sonne" in Innsbruck. (see blog post 173 Dr. Josef Mair)
The Madonna was saved. And the Tyroleans had shown that they would not let their faith be taken from them – not by the Gestapo, not by threats, not by photographing and note-taking. "This is our land and soil" – this cry echoed afterward. And it echoes to this day.

Historical Overview: The Pilgrimage to Maria Waldrast on April 20, 1941
The Prelude: Rescue of the Miraculous Image

On the night of April 17-18, 1941, Franz Mair and Hans Madersbacher undertook a risky mission. At the Glasnhof farm in Schöfens 8 (Pfons/Matrei am Brenner) Maria Mair's husband, Josef Mair, had meticulously prepared the operation. The Gestapo had closed the pilgrimage church of Maria Waldrast and threatened to remove the valuable miraculous image from the country. After negotiations by Msgr. Weisskopf and Msgr. Kolb with the Gestapo failed, the decision was made to secretly rescue it. Using pitch-soaked cloths to muffle the sound, the two men broke a window on the west side of the church, entered, and took the Madonna statue. Josef Mair himself created an alibi by cycling to Innsbruck and staying overnight with friends.

Photograph Bishop Dr. Reinhold Stecher.  Die freie Enzyklopädie Wikipedia. Online, https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2d/Reinhold-stecher.jpg(12.3.2026)

The Pilgrimage on White Sunday

What had begun as a conversation in the parlor of the Glasnhof grew into a courageous demonstration. The theology students Reinhold Stecher, Hermann Lugger, Anton Hilber and the young priest Georg Schuchter promoted a pilgrimage to the locked church in their hometowns – on April 20, 1941, of all days, Adolf Hitler's birthday, which was also "White Sunday." On this day, children in many places received their First Communion, the girls in white dresses, the boys in dark suits.
Hundreds of faithful from the Stubai and Wipp Valleys, from Steinach, Schönberg, and Innsbruck made their way up to the Waldrast. Leni Madersbacher, Hans' sister, agreed to lead the rosary prayers.

The Confrontation with the Gestapo

Up on the Waldrast, four Gestapo officers were waiting to prevent the pilgrimage. However, they were completely overwhelmed by the crowd and had no telephone – no way to call for reinforcements. When they discovered that the Madonna had been stolen the previous night, they loudly accused the Catholics. A 15-year-old boy from Schönberg then asked: "How do you know it was Catholics who did it?" – and was immediately arrested.
The crowd refused to leave the square and shouted: "We're not leaving! This is our Tyrolean land and soil! Until you release the boy, we're not going anywhere!" The Gestapo, trapped on the mountain and outnumbered, dared not take the youth away before the eyes of the crowd. Later, the innkeeper reported that the officers had stormed into the guesthouse in panic, asking each other: "Is this a Tyrolean uprising now?"

The Aftermath

The boy was released, but others paid a high price: Msgr. Weisskopf, Msgr. Kolb, and Pastor Sieberer were arrested. Leni and Hans Madersbacher were taken into Gestapo custody on April 21, 1941. Toni from the Glasnhof was to be held in protective custody for five weeks. Franz Mair and his brother Dr. Josef Mair were also imprisoned in the Gestapo prison "Hotel Sonne" in Innsbruck. In addition, approximately 60 other people were arrested, primarily farmers and farmwives who had been present at the pilgrimage; however, they were not held for long.
But the Madonna was saved. The Tyroleans had shown that they would not let their faith be taken from them – not by threats, not by arrests. The cry "This is our land and soil" echoed and still serves as a reminder of this silent but powerful  (see Blog Msgr. Weisskopf , Msgr. Kolb, bishop Reinhold Stecher and Dr. Josef Mair)