People stood in groups talking in front of a
flat-roofed building – nondescript except
for the surprising Eastern Orthodox-looking
minarets emerging from it. I decided this must be
the church as I shuffl ed past signs with single
word announcements: Silencio and Stille. Here was
a meeting place for people from all over Europe
and beyond. I followed a steady fl ow of pilgrims
through a low and unspectacular room towards
a doorway – picking up the familiar Taizé song
book.
   I found myself in a space that suddenly
overwhelmed my senses. My vision was drawn
forward at the same time that I found myself being
swept with an overpowering desire to weep. Tears
did come as I stood transfixed by colour and light
and space – impressions that danced on the edges of my awareness amidst an emotional catharsis that at once confirmed and exceeded everything that I had hoped for in coming to this unique place in the east of France.
   A vaulted area at the front burst with the
orange, red and yellow colours of passion and
warmth; towering triangular sails and twinkling
masses of candles nestled within honeycombed
frames; a simple, free standing wrought-iron cross
incorporating hearts, emanated a sense of laughter, playfulness and a simple reverence; subtly shaded electric lighting; a side area with the famous crucifi xion icon, with attentive pilgrims kneeling, sitting and even prostrate; and a central channel bounded by a low hedge with a regular distribution of prayer stools that the white-robed Brothers would soon inhabit.
   Then the music started, welling up from all
around me. I could feel it resonating on and in my
body.
   Community prayer is at the heart of life at Taizé.1
Here I was almost suspended in a space that felt
sacred unlike any other. The lack of visual clutter
allowed the carefully chosen and ordinary symbols
to present a spiritual ‘transparency’ that

challenged my dualistic notions of the ‘immanence and ‘transcendence’ of God.2
   Then, there were the prayerful arrangements of
simple scriptural mantras to music; multi-lingual
renderings of brief scripture passages that homed
in on Christ; and a fi ve to ten minute silence
in the middle of the worship that dripped with
signifi cance. To experience a liturgy so liberated
from the density of words and explicit doctrine
lifted my spirit.
   Coming to Taizé is an opportunity to seek
communion with God through common prayer,
singing, personal refl ection and sharing… you are
welcomed by a community of brothers who have
made a lifelong commitment to follow Christ in
cofile:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Kerri/My%20Documents/WWW/commontheology/index.htmlmmon life and celibacy, in simplicity of life.
   The Taizé community bases its life on the
qualities of mutual trust and peace, “a pilgrimage
of trust on earth”. Sharing together in the basics of
worship, talking, learning, eating and sleeping allows retreatants to participate in Taizé’s community life in a tangible and powerful way.
   Being in Taizé is also a preparation for taking
on responsibilities back at home with a view to
being bearers of peace and trust. Everyone is here to discover or rediscover a meaning for their life and to find a new vitality.
   Authors like David Tacey tell us there is a
spiritual hunger amongst many in Generation
Y. Helping youth orient themselves spirituality
– through simple worship and through deep
listening, dialogue, and small group interaction
– is vital to Taizé’s popularity with young people
in Europe. Brothers stand around the church after
evening prayer daily to listen to anyone who wants
to approach them.
   The emphasis is on meaning-making and
developing a sense of shared mission as common
members of God’s human family, rather than
emphasising denominational diff erence and
doctrine.
   A German Lutheran pastor who retreats at Taizé
annually (adults are restricted to annual visits while youth have unlimited access) put it to me this way: “Taizé is the future of the church”.

Tim Booth is Deacon at St Clement’s-on-the-
Hill Anglican Parish, Stafford, Qld and Chaplain
Coordinator, Mission Australia.

1 This and following quotes are from the Taizé Community
welcome brochure, May 2006.
2 Categories from Matthew Fox, A Spirituality Named
Compassion: and the healing of the global village, humpty dumpty
and us, Minneapolis, Winston Press, 1979, 45.