Sometimes Our Work is Boring, and Sometimes We Get Tired

There--I said it.  My time in Aschaffenburg has not been spent floating along on cloud nine.  But I'm not complaining.  I chose to be here, and I'm grateful for my time here; it's just impossible to spend 24/7 feeling engaged and energetic, and not even the lovely castle we can see from our flat can change that reality.  Americans have to tendency to romanticize living in Europe, but, truly, castles and picturesque streets don't cook for you, clean for you, or earn you money.  They don't keep you from getting sick or guarantee that you'll get along better with family and friends.

When it comes to the life of my particular community, praying three times a day and hosting nightly prayer services might not seem tiring, but it can be, and so can visiting with lots of people. Working three hours at a soup kitchen might not seem boring, but it can be.  On the other hand....all of this can be really wonderful, too. The fact is, each week has a little bit of everything: boredom, excitement, exhaustion, relaxation--everything.  This is real life, even if certain aspects of our life are not so common.  Though I think we will walk away from these five week with a sense of the unique nature of our experience, what we take away will get woven into the rest of our lives, not pasted in a scrapbook of vacation memories and put on a shelf.

Women's Breakfast
at the refugee home

At home, I love to visit with friends and have good talks over coffee or tea.  We do this frequently here, and on Wednesday we did this at the local prison.  I had a feeling that the women would not be interested in us, but I was wrong.  One was particularly talkative, in English, German, and French, and most (out of about 8) were really attentive.  Sr. Chiara, the Franciscan sister that arranged our visit to the prison, had suggested that we share something about our faith journey, which, again, I didn't think would go over well.  I mean, why would women awaiting trial and sentencing in Germany be in interested in the spiritual life of a 28-year-old American woman?  What Chiara did, though, was ask questions that led to some great conversation: Do you have a favorite memory from your time in Taize?  Why do you go to Taize?  What is the meaning behind the Taize cross?

After breakfast, we
hold our midday
prayer at the refugee home.

I said that one of my favorite memories was from last June, when I was welcomed in Taize after traveling from Baltimore to New York to Madrid to Lyon Airport to Lyon City Center to Macon to Taize (three flights, two trains, and one bus).  I was famished and tired when I arrieved, but one of the brothers gave me some food, and, soon after, the church bells began ringing for evening prayer.  I finished telling by story by saying "When I heard those bells, I felt like I was home."

And then I felt tears in my eyes.  So unexpected!  I looked at Sr. Chiara in an effort to not look at the inmates and really start crying, but she also had tears in her eyes.  It was quite a moment.

A couple hours went by, and then our visit was over.  It was supposed to be a one-time deal, but we all (inmates included) enjoyed the visit so much that our community agreed to return on Monday with pictures and a short film about Taize.  I'm looking forward to it, and I don't think I will get tired or bored.

Laugh Your Prayers

I've done this a lot during my time here.  Seriously, I have never laughed so much when I am not supposed to be laughing.

Five people can make a great community, but not necessarily a great choir, and we have trouble when we sing songs we aren't so familiar with.  The problem is, when I am not confident, I don't sing very loudly, and when I don't sing loudly and all I can hear is Lena singing alto, accompanied by other not-so-confident voices, I can't help but laugh at our sorry attempt to create beautiful music.  Sometimes, I can recover my composure by taking a deep breath, but if Amandine or anyone else cracks a smile or lets out an audible chuckle, it's all over.  You might as well take my hand like I'm a three-year-old at church and lead me out the door.  It's one thing if this happens when we pray by ourselves in our flat, but it's quite another if it happens, say, during Friday evening prayer around the cross with people from the community in attendance.  Thank goodness my community members are better at plowing through a song like nothing's gone wrong, because laughing through a prayer can be really distracting!

But sometimes I think that maybe it's good to laugh through our prayers, at least from time to time, and that maybe it's even important to laugh at our ridiculous attempts to connect with God and find meaning in our lives through acts of faith.  Don't get me wrong--I genuinely believe in the importance of prayer and my faith actually does give meaning to my life.  At the same time, I know that my humanity makes it impossible to comprehend God and, at best, very difficult to prove the value of going to church, spending time in prayer, and doing things like heading to Germany for five weeks to live with women I don't know.  Yes, indeed--my humanity make cultivating a spiritual life rather challenging at times (as in virtually 24/7), but laughing about this feels a lot better than getting frustrated or depressed.

Some anecdotal evidence:

On the second day of our community, I was in charge of morning prayer.  We sang some songs.  We read a Psalm and an excerpt from the Gospels.  We spent some time in silence.  And then.....it was time to share bread*.  I had thought through this ritual and it was supposed to be easy.  All I had to do was "break" the bread and share it with the others, right?  In theory, yes.  But have you ever tried to tear bread apart with your own bare hands?  It's not easy. Bread does not want to tear, unless it is it sandwich bread, and who would ever want to use that in a prayer service?  I sure didn't, and so I chose a nice, brown roll.

 It looked Biblical enough, but breaking it was virtually impossible.  After struggling with the roll for what seemed like eternity, I threw ceremony out the window and ripped the roll like someone who's just had free bread delivered to them at an all-you-can-eat Italian restaurant. There were crumbs on the floor, crumbs on my hands, and four pieces of bread that were too large to eat in one bite.  After all of us received bread, we were supposed to sing, but be couldn't; our mouths were too full.  What was supposed to be a somewhat solemn, reflective moment, felt more like snack time, and it was funny.  I mean, really funny!  Maybe you had to be there (or maybe not), but trust me, we laughed, and I may have laughed the most.  I could hardly compose myself.

Some people say that God has a sense of humor.  I believe it!  And I also believe that we, humans, can take some of the credit.  We do lots of things in the name of faith--good and bad things, quiet and loud things, ugly and beautiful things.  But then, some things are just downright funny, and I have the sense that, as we fight back chuckles, God might already be doubled-over, rolling on the floor laughing with no hesitation whatsoever.

Lena and Amandine sang Taize songs in a hunting shelter.
Did we laugh?  Of course.  

*At Taize, Catholic have the opportunity to receive communion in the morning, and Protestants can receive bread blessed as their churches would have it blessed.  Those who do not wish to receive either can still participate by receiving bread that is not considered part of any specific denomination's communion.  In our community, we have been sharing bread during morning prayer as a way to follow Jesus' example and remember the times he broke break with members of his own community.

Catching Up a Bit

We've been busy!  And, at the end of the day, I'm not always feeling up to writing a blog post.  It dawned on me, however, that an e-mail I sent on Sunday to a good friend in Baltimore provides a pretty good summary of last week.  I don't think she'll mind if I share part of that e-mail here:

We had quite a week here, full of good experiences as well as bumps in the road of community life.  Despite our occasional moments of misunderstanding or community fatigue, I think we are growing together in such a way that we are forming more connections with people in Aschaffenburg and finding more meaning in our work.

Talking about "solidarity" with students at a local school

On Monday, for example, a couple younger guys came to our evening prayer, and, afterwards, one of them asked if we would like some tea from Taize.  I was little confused, and figured that he had managed to get his hands on some of the powdered tea served at Taize and that he wanted to give us a box of it.  Instead, he pulled two thermoses out of his backpack along with a bunch of bowls for drinking (this is also something they use in Taize--don't ask me why they don't use cups).  It  was amazing!  And great timing, as we were feeling a little discouraged by how few young people were joining us for our prayers.

Today, an older couple from Franziska's home parish took us out for lunch and a pilgrimage through local villages and village churches.  A few other people came along, including another older couple that went to Taize when they were younger and who now attend our evening prayer almost every night.  At each village church, we stopped to sing some Taize songs and learn a bit about the history and art of the church.  I spent the whole day feeling so grateful for Crysta and Robert's hospitality and so happy to be out in the countryside.

Our hosts (and me!) on our trip through the countryside

Another cool connection that has come out of our time here is with a Franciscan community of priests and sisters from Italy.  Being from Italy, their hospitality is very Italian, as in feeding us pasta and homemade pizza after evening prayer last Tuesday, at 9 pm.  There was also wine, chicken, and dessert (my roommate was like "If this is Lent, what does the rest of the year look like?").  Communication with the Franciscans is really crazy.  They all speak Italian and, in theory, German.  But a couple also speak French and a little English.  And three of my community members speak German and English, but one speaks only French and English.  And no one speaks Spanish (although Lena is learning).  But sometimes it's better for me to speak Spanish and try to understand people speaking to me in Italian, that is, until I get distracted by the people at the end of the table speaking French and the people across the room speaking German and Italian.  It's then that I feel like my brain is melting into alphabet soup.  To top things off, some of the members of this community know a guy from Italy that used to attend young adult prayer services when he was a student in Baltimore. Even crazier is the fact that he will come visit Aschaffenburg in a few weeks. This level of interconnection boggles my mind!

Homemade pizza and homemade beer with the Franciscans

And that, in summary, touches on something that a lot of people experience in connection with the Taize: the level of connection in that place is surprising and wonderful.  May we continue to be surprised by the joy of meeting new people, seeing old friends, and growing in relationship with God.

Walking back from Cafe Oase--with leftover pasta!

Sing with us! Pray with us!

Saying Our Prayers

On Wednesday, with the start of Lent, the Taize community in Aschaffenburg began welcoming the community to evening prayer in the church of Saint Agatha.

Though we dutifully planned the prayer service and shared the work of setting up the chapel, we weren't really sure what would happen at 7:45.  Would anyone come?  Would we start laughing in the middle of one of our songs, as we had done during the previous week when we prayed in our apartment?

Thankfully, people came (8 people, to be exact, which Amandine guessed in our bet over dinner), and we didn't laugh!   After several days of praying three times a day with only five voices to carry the tune of the Taize songs, few sounds could have been sweeter than that of eight extra voices lifting our prayers to God.

Since Wednesday, we have continued to wonder whether people will join us, and we will probably be wondering the same thing when we organize our last evening prayer service at the end of March.  We are happy that Thursday and Friday brought more voices to fill our choir, but there will probably be some evenings when we pray alone, and that will be okay.  Consistency and presence is an important part of our ministry here.  Our group will not be in Aschaffenburg long enough to make a significant difference in the community through volunteer work, but we can continue to welcome people to our prayer and to let them know that, whether they can join us or not, a small corner of their town is filled with light and song every evening, from now through March 22.

Speaking of volunteer work....On Thursday, we made our first visit to the "social cafe" in Aschaffenburg that provides low-cost meals to people in need.  Johanna and I helped serve pastries and wash dishes, while Amandine and Lena helped cook.  Franziska, on the other hand, was nowhere near food as she was whisked away to helped sort clothes a the secondhand shop run by the same charity that runs the cafe.

In case this week didn't include enough firsts already, today we made our first visit to the refugee home in Aschaffenburg.  The "home" is really a cluster of buildings that were once used by the U.S. Armed Forces.  Apparently, nearly all the property surrounding that cluster of buildings also used to belong to the U.S.  Admittedly, it was quite strange to look across the street at the Burger King and think that that part of town used to be filled with people from my country while some of the people who live there now have fled from countries that my country has tried to help (or is it "help"?).

This morning, our time at the refugee home was not about work, but about learning (next week, we will start our work).  One of the social workers talked to us about refugees to Germany and the process of attaining refugee status. For the most part, it sounds like an expensive, arduous process that drags on for months and, sometimes, years.  At the end of the wait, some people are sent home after being picked up by the police at--get this--five in the morning.  I know some people are early-risers, but deporting before dawn just doesn't seem necessary.

On a happier note, one of the women who lives in the refugee home made us feel truly welcome by preparing coffee for us, and she expressed an interest in joining us for prayer next time we come around.  Today, our midday prayer in a spare room only brought one person (an employee) who stayed for five minutes, but we were happy the she could take even a little time out of her day to share in our singing.

Indeed, this journey is really not about numbers,..even if our choir does sound better with more people.  :)

Helau!

It's teatime here in Aschaffenburg, and I am eating bread (a Berliner, to be specific) for the third time today.  Our little community has only lived together for three days, but we already have an idea of what "per usual" means for us.

When it comes to teatime, this means that I take my tea with milk and sugar while Amandine drinks green tea and Lena drinks rooibos; Franziska switches things up a bit each time.  :)  When it comes to prayer, "per usual" means that Lena plays the guitar while singing alto, Amandine and I take the high road with the soprano parts, and, again, Franziska switches things up each time depending on what she knows best.

Castle in Aschaffenburg

When it comes to other aspects of life, "per usual" is still taking shape.  But I can say this about my community members: Lena, with her painting, singing, drawing, and guitar-playing, reminds us to be creative and spontaneous; Amandine roots us in a quiet strength and stability, always remembering to pray for God's guidance and support during our time here (and--fun fact--she also played on a professional basketball team in Belgium!); Franziska, who did a lot of planning and groundwork for our community, serves as our leader-friend.  Without her connections to the Aschaffenburg community and her ability to help everyone understand each other in our respective languages, we might be a little lost!  Tomorrow, we meet Johanna, the fifth member of our community. We can't wait!

At mass today, I did my darndest to understand something--anything!--in German, but "Du ist mein Herr" was the only complete sentence I gleaned from all that was said.  If we lived in medieval times and I was a serf, this could be very useful.  As it stands, it might be more practical to know "Where is the bathroom?" than "You are my Lord."  Oh well.  One has to start somewhere.

"Du ist mein Herr" might be the sentence of the day, but "Helau!!!" wins for today's salutation.  Clowns, astronauts, birds, giant babies, skeletons--all of these and more yelled "Helau!  Helau!  Helau!" from the floats rolling through the streets in Aschaffenburg's Carneval parade.  Small children clamored for candy thrown into the crowds, and while this small adult did a bit of that herself, she was more excited about the free cup of beer she got from the festival committee's float.  Everyone deserves a little fun before Lent.  Don't you agree?

Helau!  Helau!  Helau!

Lest you think we've forgotten our prayerful intentions for this time together, take note of the fact that evening prayer open to the community begins on Ash Wednesday evening in the chapel of the Church of St. Agatha.  If you happened to passing through there this morning, you might have heard us practicing our songs (and, we have say, the acoustics were fantastic).  Join us every evening at 7:45.  Just try not to think about how far you might have to travel to get here,  :)

We Exist, Officially

It's official!  The Taize community in Aschaffenburg, Germany, exists, and we are even on the map.

Amandine (Belgium), Franziska (Germany), Johanna (Germany), Lena (Germany) and I will share five weeks of prayer, volunteer work, and relaxation, with an apartment owned by the archdiocesan youth ministry as our home base.  But why? 

Well, it's kind of hard to explain because, in reality, and we have no goal in mind, and no metric to gauge the "success" of our time together.  We will not return home any richer, any more recognized or respected, or with a certificate of achievement in hand. Nonetheless, though I haven't taken a poll, I think all of us believe that there is something transformative about people coming together not only to pray, but to compromise, lend a helping hand, and provide mutual support. These are the kinds of things that healthy families also do, but in our small community, there are no blood ties to bind us together.  

In addition, the frequency of our communal prayer (morning, afternoon, and evening) makes us very much a religious community, and yet we have no prioress, we take no vows, and we will not continue living together past the end of March.  In other words, we are rather unique, at least when it comes to community living.  :)

Still, we are not alone.  Indeed, other young adults who have spent time in Taize have also committed themselves to forming similar communities and other churches outside of Germany have committed to hosting these communities.  And so, I guess it's fair to say that we are actually a part of something a bigger than our group of five.  

Today was a stereotypical first day: we got to know each other; we went grocery shopping; we toured the town; I learned that the cupboard door is wider than what I'm used to home and that it will hit me in the head if I'm not careful.  If the cupboard door doesn't knock me out, I should have more news to report soon!