What an odd mix yesterday was – a busy morning at the radio station, a full day of lessons at Carthage plus a discussion of Jerome Kern’s “Showboat” in Popular Music in America, and that evening a performance of “Seussical” by Carthage’s musical theater workshop. But sandwiched between the afternoon and the evening was a few moments of tranquility in Siebert Chapel, as I helped lead a Taize worship service. In case you’re not familiar with it, Taize refers to a Christian community in France that worships with beautiful, simple, much-repeated songs in various languages – interspersed with scripture readings, prayers, and silence. It runs exactly contrary to the rush-rush-rush of modern life and I’m sure that’s why it seems to draw more and more people- and young people, especially, who live the most frenetic lives of all.
Carthage campus pastor Harvard Stephens asked me Wednesday to help lead this, and although I said “Yes” I can’t say that I was excited. I’ve been under the weather all week long and wanted nothing more than to be able to go out for dinner on Friday and then head to bed. But when Kathy informed me that she would be gone with her friends Kate and Val, I took that as a sign that I should fulfill the obligation I had made, viewing it as a contribution I could make to the worship life of the campus. It simply never crossed my mind that participating would in turn contribute to my own well-being. . . that in giving, I would be receiving, to quote the prayer of St. Francis. But that’s of course what happened. It was a really beautiful time together, with a congregation that consisted of a few Carthage students but even more people from Racine and Kenosha – including middle school kids from a local church having a lock-in. Even they seemed to be caught up in the experience in a way that I would not have expected.
I should mention that the reason for this special service was that Carthage was visited by someone from the Taize community itself, Brother John, who led a workshop in the afternoon and was present for the evening service as well. I’m actually sort of glad that it didn’t really hit me until afterwards that we were singing Taize in the presence of one of its creators, which should have been somewhat intimidating- sort of like tossing a football around with Brett Favre watching- but Brother John was so kind and encouraging that we weren’t nervous at all.
The most interesting moment in the service had nothing to do with the music or with the lessons read; it was at the halfway point when we were called to meditation and prayer in eight minutes of silence. When I saw that in the bulletin, my eyes bugged right out of my head, trying to imagine what that would feel like. (I’ve done a fair amount of Taize, but I don’t ever remember 8 minutes of silence.) It proved to be a lovely time that you wished would never end, and it underscored just how seldom most of us engage in that kind of silence in our own lives. Afterwards, those gathered were invited to come forward and light candles in the altar area as the singing resumed- culminating in the single most beautiful Taize song I have ever heard. . . “Within our darkest night, you kindle the fire that never dies away. “ We sang it both in English and in the original French, and there was something so tremendously powerful about those simple words, quietly sung again and again.