Nebraska Synod ELCA

Go and…Listen. Especially in Silence.  (A Reflection on a Visit to Taizé)

Written by: Rev. Liz Kocher

God spoke in the sound of sheer silence.
In the book of 1 Kings, the prophet Elijah searches for God’s presence in a moment of uncertainty and hears God speaking, not in a mighty wind or an earthquake, but in the “sound of sheer silence.” (1 Kings 19: 12).

God never speaks to us in ways we expect. God never shows up exactly like we imagine. Perhaps, when we “Go, and…listen” in new ways, we hear God speaking a word of promise and hope to us. Even and especially in sheer silence.

At the beginning of the summer, a group of 11 of us from the Lutheran Center journeyed to a community built around the power of sheer silence. Leaving the to-do lists, end-of-semester busy-ness, and stress of jobs and internships and summer class, we traveled together to the unique and unlikely community of Taizé. Nestled in the idyllic countryside of southeast France, the Taizé Community is a monastic order of around 75 monks- brothers- who have committed to a life of simplicity, work for the common good, and days marked by times of prayer. They invite young adults to come visit and experience this way of life. For decades now, young people have accepted this invitation, occasionally by the thousands, and joined together in a life of simplicity and prayer. For one beautiful and unexpected week, our 11 joined over 1,000 from around the world in this experience of simplicity.

We slept in sleeping bags in dorm rooms, ate meals of simple beans or lentils (we love the breakfast of a hunk of baguette and a stick of chocolate), and we participated in chores like cleaning or preparing meals. We gathered in small groups for bible study, and learned that, even though we come from very different places, we carry common questions for how God is at work in our lives. And three times a day, we were summoned by the now-familiar sound of bells echoing through the community, we sat down on the worn carpet of the open church, and we prayed. We sang the simple, repetitive songs, we heard scripture in many languages, and all together, over 1,000 of us, sat in sheer silence.

Silence is a hallmark of the Taizé worship experience. Each prayer is oriented around eight to ten minutes of silence. Go try it, ten minutes is a long time to sit in silence. Silence can be deafening. Silence can be illuminating. It can be scary, make us antsy and push us out of our comfort zones, revealing what we can no longer hide. It can be a place of comfort, and quiet, and holy stillness. For type-A folks like me, the silence feels so counter to my sense of productivity. In silence, God’s presence is beyond my own control. And for us who gather, the silence is absolutely captivating. What is uncomfortable in the first few days becomes a place of refuge. The silence opens us our hearts and minds to see a deeper expression of the divine beyond the place of prayer.

I have to think this is why thousands of young people flock to Taizé again and again. (It’s not the food, trust me). Because the experience of holiness within the time of prayer is brought outside of that space. My chore for the week was to tend to one of the gardens, and I spent the time weeding and planting with three young women from Germany, who met last year at Taizé and made the trip together again this summer. They told me they returned because of the kindness they experienced, that no where else can you find this amount of people who simply care about you and what’s going on in your life. I met another young person, a long-term volunteer, who, while helping me at the welcome center, shared that their favorite part of the day was the singing in harmonies, that everyone singing different notes that blended together was representative of the community they strove for. Our group was lucky enough to meet with one of the brothers of Taizé, Brother Emile, who has visited the Lutheran Center before on a trip to the USA. Brother Emile shared his own story of discernment, and reflected that identity is dynamic. An experience with God never leaves us exactly how we were before.

It can be easy for me to get caught up in the doing, trying to make ministry through the flashiest technology, snappy programming, and complicated bible studies. I learned at Taizé what God teaches me time and time again: that a simple, authentic relationship with the divine can do nothing but overflow to an authentic, loving community. It is our job to listen. It is our job to create worship spaces and encounters with God that are not based on the doing, but rather the being. It doesn’t take much. Sheer silence will work.

Brother Emile summed it up: “At Taizé, everyone is a little bit uncomfortable, and a little bit at home.” Young people are met exactly where they are and how they are, and then the community gets out of the way, and lets God do the holy work of challenging and growing.

So my challenge to you, dear reader, is to try some time of silence. Find a comfortable place in your home, or go borrow your local sanctuary. Read some scripture, maybe sing or play a beloved song, set the timer on your phone for three or four minutes, and then simply sit in the silence. Perhaps this time will feel uncomfortable, perhaps it will be a moment of peace. Perhaps both and more. If you like it, work your way up in time. Amazing and unexpected, how God can speak to us in simple, sheer silence.