My Pilgrimage to Taize

I've been kinda distracted by the many details related to my move and have been subsequently uninspired, so please forgive my blog going quiet. Nonetheless, many friends have asked about my experience in February at Taize, so I thought I'd backtrack somewhat and share my reflections. The trip itself was an adventure. I borrowed a car from my cousin in Lyon, the closest city to the little village of Taize. My phone had no service in Europe (shame on you Verizon, shame on you Droid!) and I learned at the last minute that I would have no GPS. Directions were old-fashioned, scrawled on scrap paper from the web site by my aunt with additional notes added after a call to the monastery. I eventually realized I had overshot my turn on the interstate and paid many, many tolls for turning around several times. Eventually, I got some gas and asked directions at a gas station where the attendant spoke zero English and had never heard of Taize. I knew the word for "map" and was able to get a map and point to the village and figure it out from there. I must say I was proud of myself for both my creativity and my sudden grasp of French. The first pleasant surprise I found along the way is that the way to Taize runs right through Cluny. Church history nerds know that Cluny was the site of a world famous and incredibly influential monastery throughout the Middle Ages. The buildings were stunning, even from a distance, and I was deeply disappointed to be unable to stop and wander around. The village of Taize itself is tiny. Clearly it was chosen to be secluded. I imagine that Brother Roger had little or no intention to create a place that would be known throughout the world. He couldn't have picked a worse spot if he had. The monastery is at the very top of the hill on the back side of the village. The initial feel of the place reminded me of a county fair or a festival. Cars were parked in long rows on the grass. I was sure I would never remember where I parked. Dormitories in the parking lot were made of plastic stretched over metal frames. The feel of the monastery itself was very much like the feel of the youth retreats I used to organize when I worked for the Annual Conference. Teenagers were hanging out and goofing off, playing hacky sack and strumming guitars, washing down the place where everyone eats. It was a really energetic and fun scene. The kids were acting like Christian kids at any youth camp on earth. They were just talking in all different languages. I found the place to check in, and I was late, so there was nothing to do but go to worship. The person who was working the registration area was a college student and a volunteer. He spoke English but was from Germany. I told him I was visiting relatives and wanted to come to Taize while I was in France because I led a little Taize-inspired service at home. He asked me how many people came. When I told him we only had about 30-40 who attend, his eyes lit up. He said that our Taize service was huge, that most of them around the world are small prayer groups of only a dozen or so people. In the main worship space, the young people sit on the floor in the main nave, and others sit on large stairs along one side. Upon entering, each person is given a thin candle, a song book, and a photocopied page with a short Gospel passage of two verses in many languages. There is no order of worship. There are racks of Bibles, and many people pick up a Bible and read while they wait for worship to begin. Many people also carry small folding kneelers so that they can kneel wherever they might be. The space is simple but not stark. The construction is fairly new and made of concrete, but warm. It feels like a somewhat liturgical camp ground auditorium. When worship is about to begin, the brothers begin filing in wearing white albs. They seem like very plain-folks kinds of people. They are all ages, many of them young, even young enough to be college students. They sit in a couple of rows down the aisle (which is delineated by very churchy plants). The only instrumentation is a simple keyboard with a classical guitar sound. Singing is led by a man and a woman from the back. All the people sing, so the leaders blend in. The songs lead the service. The songbook is remade each year, so many of the songs are new and most were unfamiliar. Each song is listed with music and translation into several languages below. We sang in at least six languages. The only direction in the service came from a digital sign that offered the song numbers (one of those signs often used to tell parents when they should come get their screaming kid from the nursery in church). From time to time, the music would gently fade away and a leader would read a scripture passage or lead a prayer. There was one long silence. The Christ candle was lit in the middle of the service and everyone lit each other's candles. The candles went out on their own when it was time for the service to end, and the brothers slowly wandered out a few at a time. The singing continued for a long, long time afterward. I don't know when it ended, because when I left 45 minutes after the candles went out, the keyboard player was long gone but people were still singing. That was the most powerful time--it reminded me of the feeling I used to have in my Pentecostal childhood when we would linger around the altar and sing long after the preacher had left. I know why people have come to Taize from all over the world and I can see why people have a powerful experience there that they want to replicate when they come home. At the same time, the Spirit that was there was no different than the Spirit I've felt in many times and places and my experience was no more or less profound or moving than what I experience every Sunday night at our worship at Cloverdale School. One of the main messages of the Book of Ezekiel is that God is portable--he made the trip from Jerusalem to Babylon. Maybe one of the reasons we go on pilgrimage is not only to be inspired somewhere else, but also to be reminded that pilgrimage places have no unique claim to God's presence and that God meets us every bit as much at home as any famous place.