Trust and Reconciliation

Nada te turbe, nada te espante: quien a Dios tiene nada le falta. Nada te turbe, nada te espante: solo Dios basta. (Let nothing trouble you, let nothing frighten you: whoever has God lacks nothing....God alone is enough.)

The words of the chant rose up to fill the spacious room with a peaceful, sacred harmony as thousands of young adults sang them in unison.

At the front, dozens of flickering, uniquely shaped candles illuminated the scattered icons and wildflowers that formed a makeshift altar. For one brief weekend, this fieldhouse at the University of Dayton in Ohio had been converted into a dimly lit sanctuary of prayer, a place where 2,000 young (and some not-so-young) adults gathered for a "pilgrimage of trust on Earth."

This gathering, organized by the ecumenical community of Taize, was the first of its kind in North America--though such meetings have been held in European cities for more than 10 years. "Pilgrims" from 46 states as well as places as far away as Poland, Bosnia, Mexico, the Philippines, Uganda, and India came to Dayton to pray and begin to discover together what it means to be agents of trust and reconciliation.

Prayer, trust, and reconciliation are long-standing themes of the Taize community, based in eastern France. In 1940, the community's founder, Roger Schutz, a young theology student at the time, left his native Switzerland to begin giving refuge to Jews fleeing Nazi-occupied areas. Roger says his purpose in going to Taize was the call he felt as a Christian to be a living sign of reconciliation among the human family. His call attracted other young adults who soon joined him in his work of providing hospitality and building human solidarity. In 1944, Roger and a few others committed themselves to a monastic-style life in the tiny farming village.

Today the community is made up of 90 men from more than 20 countries and from a variety of Christian backgrounds. They call themselves "brothers" and are sworn to the vows of community life, community of goods, and celibacy. While most of them live year-round in the village of Taize, small pockets of brothers live in some of the most poverty-stricken and divided places in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and North America.

The brothers in Taize continue to respond to the spiritual searching of young adults who have been coming to the monastery in increasing numbers since the 1960s. Each summer thousands of young people are drawn to Taize for weekly "intercontinental meetings," gatherings that focus on the union of inner life and human solidarity. Rooted in a search for the wellsprings of their faith, visitors seek concrete ways to heal the divisions within the human family.

TWO THEMES ARE ETCHED into the minds and hearts of all who are touched by the Taize community: trust and reconciliation. The brothers speak of "trust" not as an abstract theory, but rather as concrete steps that the gospel calls us to take--steps that involve risk. They emphasize that as Christians we are called to go out to places of human suffering and begin to "heal the wounds" that cause us to fear and hate each other.

Brother Hector, one of several Taize brothers who lives in the "Hell's Kitchen" neighborhood of New York City, seeks to communicate this healing love in an urban setting. Placing the call to reconciliation in the theological context of the cross, he asks, "How can our wounds not become sources of revolt, but slowly become an energy of love, so that we will never abandon another person? The answer lies in each of us, that Christ comes to our wound and changes the wound into a place of his love. This is the mystery of the cross; in the wounded Christ we get a glimpse of what love is all about."

Brother Hector goes on to emphasize how crucial these steps of reconciliation are to our identity as Christians. "The church has an incredible responsibility," he says. "What is at risk is how we communicate Christ's presence as a body. It's not a political agenda for us as Christians, although there might be political consequences. If we really believe that Christ did come for all, and that we are members of Christ's body, we have a responsibility--to be living signs of hope for all, not just for the few."

Prayer, in the understanding of the Taize brothers, is deeply united to this call for reconciliation. Prayer at Taize--marked by simple, meditative songs--is the place to seek inwardly for the "wellspring of faith," the deepest point of connection with Christ. It is here, say the brothers, that we know most intimately that we are sought after and loved by God first, and without condition.

It is this connection with Christ, through prayer, that moves us beyond ourselves, toward solidarity with those who suffer--and into a world where trust and reconciliation become possible. Brother Hector describes, "We don't pray to create a nice ivory tower; we pray to take on the heart of Christ. And Christ felt in his depths the pain of those who suffer."

Grounded in this connection with Christ, the brothers believe that, at root, people do have the capacity to trust, but often lack the opportunity in a world so divided by racial, socioeconomic, and interpersonal walls. Accordingly, one of the community's goals is to provide concrete opportunities for Christians to come together--from different racial, ethnic, and economic backgrounds. The large "pilgrimage of trust on Earth" gatherings are one such opportunity created by the brothers.

THE IDEA OF a "pilgrimage of trust" was launched in 1982 as an expression of the brothers' commitment to reach outward beyond the walls of the Taize monastery. Brother Roger initiated a pilgrimage in response to a question often posed to him by short-term visitors: "How can we continue the search once we have returned home, often to situations where we feel isolated and not always understood?"

The brothers say that participating in this pilgrimage is a way for young adults throughout the world to support one another in a common endeavor while still remaining present and active in their own local realities. A recent newsletter from Taize describes the undertaking: "It does not mean joining a new organization or movement but rather, by means of simple acts and gestures, discovering a common belonging. It helps us realize we are not alone with our questions in our journey of faith and quest for meaning, but that many others walk alongside us on our way."

One component of the brothers' commitment to a "pilgrimage of trust on Earth" is the large gatherings that have been held in places as far-flung as London, Manila, Budapest, Madras, and Prague. At these gatherings young adults pray and reflect, form friendships, and most of all listen to and are changed by one another.

Each gathering reflects the cultural, political, and economic uniqueness of the city and country in which it is held. Consequently, the lived experiences of trust and reconciliation take on the dimensions specific to the "wounds" of that particular context.

Along these lines, the brothers affirmed the timeliness of the pilgrimage in Dayton in the wake of the Simi Valley verdict and subsequent rioting. For the brothers, the eruption in Los Angeles evidenced a long festering wound in North America. Brother Roger describes how the society of North America is "being built up by a process that separates it into two. Some people experience growing affluence. Right next to them, others live in a poverty that makes their lives more and more difficult."

In such a context of division, the call of the pilgrimage to take risks and to trust was all the more relevant and challenging. Janet Brulin, a participant from Madison, Wisconsin, spoke of the anxiety she had about taking the risk to be part of the gathering: "I was feeling so scared of anything that was unfamiliar...After seeing the racial tension in my own city, my instinct was to stay home and lock my door."

BUT IT WAS UNITY and reconciliation that was celebrated in the racially polarized city of Dayton, as participants took risks to trust and to cross lines that usually divide. Local churches, both African American and white, of myriad Christian denominations hosted pilgrims in their homes and parishes. Clergy and families comprising the local parishes were encouraged to partake in prayer and other meetings during the gathering. Likewise, "pilgrims" were invited to share in the daily life of their host--from eating meals to worshiping together in their host churches.

The Taize community views the gathering at Dayton as simply one step in the ongoing pilgrimage of trust on Earth--a pilgrimage that begins in our innermost being and ultimately leads us to try to be visible signs of hope in the world. The brothers emphasize that many people of faith already live out this pilgrimage in their daily lives.

Still, many who participated in the gathering affirmed its importance in their own journeys. Timothy Hillmer, a 28-year-old from Pittsburgh, explained, "Reconciliation has always been difficult for me, being gay in the church. It's something that isn't graspable. But here, the quiet and peace of mind, and time to hear the Spirit working, have made me understand something: Reconciliation, although it may not always be graspable, is what happens when we come together."

Marlon Castro, a 21-year-old from inner-city Boston, echoed the thought: "This gathering has given me a sense of hope. We can try to change things. The people here let me see there are a lot of good people out there, people who care. We need to take the gift that we have received here, in prayer and from each other, and share it back home. Hopefully someday, the rule that I grew up with in the inner city--which is 'don't trust anybody'--will be changed to 'trust everybody.' That's a great gift."

Ann Delorey was assistant publisher of Sojourners when this article appeared.

Karen Peterson, a former Sojourners editorial assistant, was in the master's of divinity program at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California, when this article appeared.