We spent a week in Taize, France in a monastic community in the southern part of the Burgundy region. It is in a small town set on a hill about an hour by bus from the nearest train station. The place was started before the Second World War as an ecumenical and international prayer community, as a way bring reconciliation across nations through faith. People from all over the world come to visit, volunteer, and pray with the brothers who have committed themselves to a common life in simplicity. Large groups of youths regularly come to Taize, especially during the summer, but it is open to people of all ages. At times, upwards of 4,000 people join together from across Europe and the world, but in our week there were around 500.
We arrived on a Sunday evening just before the evening prayer. Three times daily there are prayer meetings which involve a time for songs, silence, and scripture in several languages (French, German, English, Latin, Italian, Spanish, Polish, and Russian were all sung or read in our week alone). Loud bells rung above us to signal the time of prayer. We were some of the last people to enter the chapel and found the nearest seats we could on some steps near some older people. There is no real seating in the place, just a big open floor and some chairs on the perimeter for people who have trouble kneeling or sitting on the ground. Most people kneel on the floor forming two inexact aisles. In the middle of it all are the brothers, a collection of men devoted to God through song and prayer, seated in a two long lines. Everyone faces towards what can only be described as the front of the chapel. Long orange cloth banners flow to the floor from the ceiling. The entire chapel is lit with candles and dim, low hanging lights. Icons of Christianity are located in several locations throughout the chapel. There is no pulpit, no preaching, no package; everyone just sings and prays together in common.
Shortly after we sit the music starts, a beautiful mix of harmony and chorus. It is truly beautiful. Everyone singing together the repetitive verses in beautiful harmony. A man and woman to our left add depth to the songs with alternate harmonies. The whole scene is powerful, the people around us alternately singing and kneeling to pray. About three songs into it, a smell rises into our noses and disrupts our previously holy trance. Jess turns a suspecting glance in my direction. My face cringed, I shake my head the honest truth, no. An older gentleman was sitting to our left, and two older women were directly in front of us. My money was on the old man, but Jessie wasn’t so sure it wasn’t one of the two women. The truth is, these same people were probably suspicious of us as well. The whole scene was tantamount to when you are confronted by a terrible smell in a single stall public restroom after waiting in a long. Your first thought is, “Cover my nose and get out of here as soon as possible.” You strain to remember the face of the person who went in before you, to match the person to this awful smell. You probably didn’t make eye contact, and anyways, by now he has already fled, long gone from the scene of this unpunishable offense. When you leave the bathroom, you know the judgement will be passed down to you so you try to think of a way to blame the last person. A hand signal, a rolling of the eyes. Then you remember that the next person probably won’t remember your face anyways, and you can leave rest assured that they will have to deal with this same problem when they leave the bathroom as well.
After a few minutes the smell subsides, and we are able to hold in our laughter. The music has caught our attention again. We are back to singing, enjoying the beauty of singing, and experiencing, God and his humans together.
- Josh, April 24, 2007
