When I was a student at Yale Divinity School, a mentor encouraged me to make a pilgrimage to the Taizé Community in France. I knew nothing of Taizé except for the brief history I read on Wikipedia. Originally founded in 1940 by Brother Roger as a hideaway for Jews during World War II, the Taizé community is now an ecumenical monastic order composed of over one-hundred Catholic and Protestant brothers from around the world.
How interesting, I thought. I was then surprised to discover that Taizé (named after the remote village in France where it is located) is one of the most important sites of Christian pilgrimage, attracting over 100,000 young adults every year.
Eager to discover what drew so many young people to Taizé, I made a pilgrimage there in the summer of 2011. After taking a five-hour train ride, followed by an hour-long bus, I arrived with a heavy backpack and uncertainty about where to check-in.
“Here is your room,” a volunteer said.
I walked inside and saw three sets of bunk beds, faded apricot curtains and a dusty, concrete floor. I smiled weakly at the others and realized I would be spending the next week sharing a room with five women I had never met (an introvert’s nightmare).
After dropping my backpack, I went to dinner and asked for the vegetarian option. A volunteer gave me a ladle full of soggy lentils and a hardboiled egg: “Bon Appétit.”
During that dinner, as I chewed my lukewarm lentils and realized I did not bring a pillow, I wondered why on earth this place attracted so many young people, I soon discovered many of whom returned year after year, some up to twenty times.
The answer came as my week long experience at Taizé drew to a close. After living there for almost a week, I began to notice a change within, a slight shift towards no longer caring about the mushy food and hostel-like accommodations. Instead, I came to crave praying three times a day, prayer anchored in the singing of Taizé chants, Bible readings and eight long minutes of communal silence.
At last Friday night arrived, and I looked forward to experiencing what pilgrims described as the most moving part of Taizé: prayer around the cross. That night as I sat on the floor of the church, with thousands of Christians from around the world, I watched as the brothers lifted the Taizé cross from its podium and laid it down in the center of the church.
I gazed with slight curiosity as the brothers took their turns kneeling around the cross, encircling it with a huddle of white robes, as they prayerfully placed their heads and hands upon the cross. When they finished praying, thousands of young people flocked to the center of the church, some immediately kneeling around the cross, taking the places vacated by the brothers, but most waiting on their knees in a rapidly forming line at least twenty rows deep.
Many of us waited hours for a pilgrim to finish praying so that we might shuffle on our knees towards that open space and pray around the cross. When my knees were numb and probably bruised, I finally had my chance to approach the cross and place my head and hand on Christ’s outstretched hand.
In that moment, as I knelt around the cross with Christians from around the world, I heard some of them sobbing, some of them whispering prayers in languages known only to God. And while I prayed silently with them, I encountered Christ like never before, as I felt his wounded hand holding mine, felt his longing to journey with me, to accompany me, to remind me that he became incarnate so I don’t have to face this world alone.
The following day, when my time at Taizé came to an end, all I could think was: “When can I come back?” Fortunately, since my first pilgrimage to Taizé, I have returned seven times, three times on my own and three times with a group of students from STM, as part of our Alternative Spring Break program.
Because STM has visited Taizé for the past three years, the Taizé brothers decided to return the favor and visit STM for the first time in our history. This fall, Brother John and Brother Emilie of Taizé spent four days with STM and engaged in a full schedule of activities that culminated in a Friday night retreat with Taizé prayer around the cross.
During our retreat night, we welcomed individuals from STM, the Episcopal Church at Yale, Luther House Ministry at Yale and parishes throughout the Archdiocese of Hartford. After engaging in Bible study and small groups, retreatants gathered for Taizé prayer around the cross, complete with a replica of the Taizé cross made by Yale Divinity School student Wai Wa Wu GRD '21 and STM community member Pat Leahy.
After placing the Taizé cross in the center of Bosi Lecture Hall, I watched as Christians from different corners of Yale’s campus and of the Archdiocese come to pray together. And in that moment, I thought of the prayer Christ prays with his disciples the night before he goes to the cross, that simple and beautiful prayer that all may be one, just as he and the Father are one (John 17:11). As I looked at these Christians from different denominations praying together, I saw an answer to Christ’s prayer, to his plea that his disciples may be one.
In the end, that is what draws me back to Taizé, the encounter with Christ and the unity this encounter creates among Christians throughout the world. In no other moment is this unity more visible than during Friday night prayer around the cross. As we kneel and as we pray, we place our burdens on the cross of Christ, and suddenly all divisions fade and we are one with Christ at the center.
