TAIZÉ | PART 3

A pent-up conversing reached its climax during every single meal hour for us. That was when we got to sit at one of the many long farm tables and interact with people. It was the most boisterous of our times in Taizé. Sometimes you had to shout across the table and had to lean in to listen. Breakfasts were comprised of a whole but petite-sized baguette along with a small stick of butter and chocolate served with hot tea. Maybe there was a small piece of fruit. I don’t remember, because I did not know baguette with butter and chocolate could taste so delectable. After all, I suppose this was France. They know the finest of breads. At one conversation, a young girl from France told us how to distinguish good baguettes from others and essentially gave us a short seminar to what she may have thought were unfortunate Korean-Americans who did not know good bread. She said somewhat proudly that the baguettes we were handed were excellent. I had no reason not to believe her, especially after devouring my baguette every single time.

Invariably, questions came flying our way after I “interrogated” those sitting around me with my questions. They were just as curious as to why we, as old as we were, were there. They asked why we came and what we did. My “elevator” speech turned out to be that we are part of a Protestant religious order that is centered around Christ rather than institutional Christianity. I also added that we are interested in proliferating the Christ-centered way of living, globally beyond religious traditions and among young people. With a few I interacted with, I went deeper by unpacking what I meant after gauging their interests and discerning questions. I noted that most of them listened and listened keenly. 

When we first checked in, we were assigned to a small but diverse group comprising of 10 individuals, representing France, Switzerland, Germany, Russia, Poland, Japan (she was the one taking the picture), and then us. One girl from Russia plainly told us that she was an atheist. It was interesting to observe how others responded to her, essentially embracing her and showing her that she was accepted and welcomed. It simply was not a big deal. As many in Europe come from a post-Christendom context, it generally was assumed that many would be atheists (or disillusioned Christians at best), especially among young people. She obviously was a seeking atheist and did not hesitate to capture that sentiment. It dawned on me that the term atheist would be a misnomer. In some aspects of my own life, I live as a practical and schizophrenic atheist, functioning as if God does not exist and that I can coast my life along without God.

One other girl from Germany shared with us how she entered into a weeklong silence retreat last year. She struggled mightily for the first few days but toward the end of the silence, God spoke to her, “I know you and see you,” and that experience transformed her life. As she was recounting her story, I could visibly glimpse the residual impact and desire for more of God. I spent a big chunk of time with a young French carpenter named Carl (far left) from Switzerland. Such a gentle and soft-spoken soul who asked many probing questions and liked to work with his skillful hands. He also told a story of how God broke to him. While he was attending one of the daily Taizé services a couple of years earlier, he saw God appearing before him. A smiling God waved his hand and said, “hi, I am here.” What a heartwarming encounter of a gentle God with a gentle soul! God surely knows how to woo us. His grandparents who were Protestants had been praying for him for years and they were glad he was following Christ now. 

In the mornings, there were multiple bible studies and seminars offered to visitors, which we attended every morning. Climate control or “creation care” was one seminar topic. If I remember right, it was a diplomat who presented. I was duly impressed with the breadth and the depth of the content. The last slide featured this sentence I loved. “Our openness to others, each of whom is a ‘thou’ capable of knowing, loving and entering into dialogue, remains the source of our nobility as human persons.” On one of the other bible studies we attended, a young small-statured brother from Peru presented how he decided to come to Taizé. He was witty and charming and held a delightful presence about him.

The brothers in Taizé maintain their vocation through a daily schedule of work, like the visitors who are required to put in hours. Some are expert potters. When we visited, the oldest potter was in his 90s, still crafting simple and elegant potteries. I had made an appointment to speak to one of the brothers from Canada who had been there for more than 30 years. Among other things, I learned from him about Taizé’s financial policy. Later I dug this out from The Sources of Taizé. “Our vocation as community has committed us to live solely from our work, accepting neither donations nor bequests nor gifts – nothing, absolutely nothing. The boldness involved in not ensuring any capital for ourselves, without fear of possible poverty, is a source of incalculable strength.” This principle was not something I had ascribed to over our ministry years, but I saw in it tremendous value, dignity, and faith. Along this vein, they have a sizable store featuring their music, books, arts, etc. The largest selection is reserved for potteries made by the hands of the Taizé brothers, including the 90-year-old brother. We decided to purchase just a couple of pieces of pottery since our luggage space was limited. While I bought books and CDs, my wife, who had the wisdom and foresight, bought a bowl and a small plate that were deemed damaged and thus imperfect. They would have been easily tossed out or discarded in other pottery stores. My wife’s wisdom echoed with the wisdom of Taizé potters, who would feature less-than-perfect potteries. I thought later there is significant lesson and parallel to our lives. . . As we use the pieces, we are not only reminded of our time in Taizé but of ourselves as imperfect vessels used by God.