My Time in Taizé

Two days have passed since arriving home from the "boondocks" of central France. If you were keeping up with my blog, you probably noticed that my posts abruptly stopped after leaving Paris. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, internet access was sparse in Taizé. Secondly, I decided to disengage from technology while at the monastery, and it was quite refreshing just letting emails and texts pile up for a few days. 

Writing about my time at the monastery is more difficult than writing about my time in New York and Paris. Taizé is a unique community. We often use the word community without thinking about its latin root communitas 'common'. (Actually I do this every time I use the word community.) The monastery was founded by Brother Roger after World War II to reconcile disconnected cultures and people within the greater European Church. This spirit of reconciliation is what fuels Taizé, and keeps people returning to the commune. 

Being from the United States, I appreciated gaining the perspective of foreigner. Of 5,000 people visiting the monastery, only 20 people were from the US. Everyone else lived on the European continent. When I introduced myself saying I was from America, people had several different reactions--some thought it was cool, others thought I must be a stupid American, and some just wondered how I ended up in such a remote French village. All were very legitimate reactions. I really was a "stupid American" being among the few unilingual people with just a vague understanding of the metric system--among many other ignorances. And I too kept wondering how I ended up in Taizé, France. 

My experience at the monastery wasn't exactly what I'd expected. I did not expect to sing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" while washing 6,000 bowls with people from Holland, Serbia, Spain, and Britain. I did not expect to have so much in common with people from such distant places. And I didn't expect to become best friends with people from Spain and the UK. 

Four days is my new record for becoming so comfortable with a group of strangers that I completely lost all "new kid" social anxieties. I could be myself knowing they fully accepted me and I them, kinda like experiencing God's immediate, genuine and unconditional love for creation. Cliché, but it felt like we'd known each other for much longer than a few days. Alex, Steph, Howard, Carmen, and Alba became my family at Taizé. I love each of them and their accents so much, and I enjoyed every bowl we washed together. It was the first time I've seriously considered becoming an illegal immigrant, but fortunately with technology we'll be able to stay connected across the Atlantic without the unpleasant legal implications of deportation. I've missed them immensely since returning home, and will undoubtedly visit them soon in the UK. 

The community binds itself through sung prayers. The songs are unique to Taizé, and they sing their own collection of chants in about 25 different languages. The melodies are short but repeated around ten times, which turns them into prayer mantras. The total incorporation of song and prayer contributes to the peaceful atmosphere in Taizé. Yesterday, I sat down at my piano and played a 2 minute improvisation on the song "Nada te Turbe." For me this melody conjures the feelings of peace and spiritual contentment in the Taizé services. I recorded it yesterday on SoundCloud, and just maybe it can transport you 4,000 miles to the quaint village of Taizé...if only for a minute. 

https://soundcloud.com/eric-surber/nada-te-turbe

- EJS

Washing up crew