Parable of Communion

4^th Sunday of Lent

March 14^th, 2026

Readings: Isaiah 25:1-10 & Luke 22:14-23

Part of Sermon Series: Noteworthy Christians – Brother Roger of Taize

What does it mean to be in communion with God or one another? Today we get two visions, one from Isaiah and one from Jesus’ last supper. Isaiah envisions a heavenly feast, a party thrown by God on OUR behalf when the time finally comes when no more tears shall be shed, war shall cease, and death is defeated. God is the host of this rich feast where we all have a place at the table, more than enough to eat, and not a single reason to fight. All creation is reconciled to God and peace reigns at last.

When God appears to us in the flesh in Christ Jesus, God gives us a foretaste of this feast to come. An appetizer to the final feast, if you will. On the last night with his disciples, at the last meal they would share, Jesus made sure they would never forget this this time they spent in sacred communion. In this communion, he not only engaged in the act on being in relationship with the disciples, but he went a step further. Jesus offered himself up as the communion, the literal binding agent of relationship, of peace, of unconditional love. Communion, as we think of it, is simply this meal where we eat the bread and drink from the cup, but communion by definition means unity, relationship, and intimacy.

To be in communion with God is as intimate as God offering up God’s entire being for us to ingest and therefore transform us from the inside out (you are what you eat). But this final act of communion was ALSO an example and a call for us to be in communion with one another. Jesus gives us his body, so that we might BECOME his body that remains present here on Earth until the end of life as we know it. It is to our own detriment that we have made this a ritual of insiders and outsiders. How did we ever come to decide who was worthy or unworthy of receiving the sacrament of communion, when Christ himself made sure all were included – even Judas, who would betray him AND Peter, his closest confidant, who would deny THREE times even knowing him.

At God’s table, ALL are invited to the feast provided by God. Not because we are good enough, but because GOD is good and GOD offers ALL unconditional love. There is no worthy or unworthy in the eyes of the Source of our being. I wonder when we as humans lost track of this? God offered us the precisely perfect conditions to grow, unlike any other place in this entire galaxy.. gave us the safety and the love to bloom like the lilies in the valley.. to turn our faces toward the warmth of God’s love.. and we humans, somewhere along the way, decided it was shameful to bask in the Lord’s sunlight. We, at some point, decided instead of blooming, we would hold ourselves shut up tight, not daring to let God see us in our fullness, for God would surely find us lacking! This is a far cry from the Lord who knows us even before we are born.. who has a seat prepared and waiting for us at the feast of love and communion.

On this, the last Sunday of my sermon series on noteworthy Christians, I want to offer you the example of Brother Roger, who gives me hope in our journey back toward love and openness. Brother Roger is the founder of the Taize community, which he delightfully called the parable of communion. Roger Schutz was born in the spring of 1915 in Switzerland, the youngest of nine children. His father, Karl Schutz, was a pastor in the Reformed Church.

In his 20s, Roger went to Strasbourg, France to follow in his father’s footsteps and studied Reformed Theology. There, he was a leader in the Swiss Student Christian Movement, which was part of a global ecumenical movement. Ecumenical, remember, is the word that describes when different Christian denominations work together (as we do for our Lenten services and such). The word ecumenical actually comes from the Greek word οἰκουμένη (oik-ou-mene) which literally translates to: the whole inhabited world.

Roger was drawn to this idea of reconciliation among Christians. He believed that God in Christ left us to be Christ’s ONE body here on Earth and by our inability to accept God’s unconditional, all-encompassing love for ourselves and one another, we had shattered that unity. He never took sides between Catholics and Protestants; he simply worked toward reconciling them back into one body of Christ.

In 1940, the Second World War broke out across Europe. Roger, who was back home in Switzerland recovering from tuberculosis, found himself unable to stop thinking about his maternal Grandmother during WWI. A widow in Northern France with three sons out fighting the war, she began to take in and care for refugees, from the elderly to children to pregnant women unsure of the fate of their men. She fled France only when forced, at the final moments when there were emergency evacuations in her village. She would often talk to her grandchildren about how so many wars had been fought due to divided Christians and if we could someday be reconciled, war might at last cease to rage. But she didn’t just talk about this; she embodied it. She was born and raised in a family that had been Protestant for generations, but she could often be found in the Catholic church, praying.. understanding that change begins within one’s self.

So, at the age of 25, when WWII broke out, Roger knew what he had to do. He left Switzerland and rode his bike across the border into France, looking for a house to purchase and follow in his grandmother’s footsteps of tending to those suffering because of the war. He found himself in a tiny village named Taize, just a few kilometers from the boundary line that, during the war, divided France in two. For two years, Roger and his sister Genevieve, hid political refugees and countless Jews. In November of 1942, the whole of France came under Nazi occupation. The Gestapo raided Roger’s home in search of those he was hiding, but as God would have it, Roger was at that time back in Switzerland helping someone without papers to cross the border to freedom. He was forced to remain safely in Switzerland for two years.

When Roger returned to his home in Taize, France in 1944, he brought two others with him who were interested in his dream of an ecumenical monastery. Together they began the journey of monastic life centered on Roger’s parable of communion. Five years later, in 1949, the first full group of brothers took their official vows of celibacy, common life, and a simple lifestyle. At the heart of this community of Taize was reconciliation between Christians, with the hope that “Christians can be a leaven of reconciliation between people, of trust among nations, and of peace on Earth.”

This group of men from all different Christian traditions, from all different countries and continents, live together as a living breathing parable of communion. But, what does that mean, parable of communion? Well, let’s see.. I can tell you a story of the greatest meal I’ve ever eaten. I can tell you details about how juicy and delicious and perfectly seasoned the steak was, right? But regardless of how detailed my story is, you’ll never be able to fully grasp the experience of that meal without eating it yourself. Communion is kind of like that. I can preach grandiose stories about Jesus and his final supper. I can stand behind the altar and break the bread and pour the wine and speak of God’s glory, but none of that will ever come to life or transform you, until you taste it for yourself. And if I, as a pastor, can be so frank, I rarely think this even happens here in this space with a tiny taste of bread and splash of juice. Surely it does! But full communion, the communion that resembles the life-changing relationships Jesus shared with his disciples is more often found in meals shared among friends, family, and on the rare occasion, strangers. Over a meal cooked with love. When the love is palpable in every bite, every sip, every clink of glasses. It’s the energy in the room, the sacred space between people, that pulls us together, helps us see with new eyes, opens our hearts and transforms our experience as humans. This is communion. The community at Taize is the parable of communion someone can tell you about, but you have to experience for yourself to truly be transformed.

I, of course, like perhaps many of you, had never heard of Taize when I was offered the chance to go. Drawn to the ecumenical movement, I was given the opportunity just before my final semester of seminary to embark on a trip to the World Council of Churches in Geneva, Switzerland. This trip would then end in a week long stay at Taize in January. I was excited for the first part, but couldn’t quite wrap my head around Taize. I’d ask my professor, so is this like spending a week at summer camp? How should I prepare? What should I expect? Much to my annoyance, all he would tell me is this: “Taize will have its way with you.”

Excuse me, sir, I still don’t know what that means! I need real answers! But we go where God calls and of course, he was right. There is no explanation of Taize, only the promise that you will not leave the same as you came. So, from beautiful, glorious Switzerland, we took a bus across the border to this tiny village of Taize, in the middle of nowhere! Around little cottages, small farms, and stone buildings, we pulled up to a tent marked with signs of welcome in every language.

A brother came to welcome us and let us into our lodgings. At first I was placed in a room that felt as small as a closet, fitted only with three bunk beds. After having a mini-claustrophobic panic attack that I’m not proud of, I was able to move into a bigger room with more of my classmates, which was still only fitted with bunk beds and cots. Worse were the showers, a few steps from the rooms were the restrooms, fitted with showers that had cold water which only came out of the shower head when you pushed a button that went off way too soon to remove much soap at a time. Needless to say, I was WAY out of my comfort zone and questioning my life choices.

However, Taize is designed for young adults to experience spiritual retreat, as well as commune with people from all denominations and from all across the world. So, as I made my way over to the dining hall, I began to see the beauty of Taize as I sat across from other pilgrims on their journeys from New Zealand, Paris, Scotland, and the Netherlands. I gave thanks that most other countries teach their youth to also speak English. And then we moved to evening prayer.

Three times a day, morning, noon, and evening, the brothers of Taize gather in the Church of Reconciliation to pray and worship. The Church is dimly lit, all of the brothers sit on tiny stools in the center, and all the visitors are invited to sit on either side. During the warmer months, Taize is so full of young adults on pilgrimage that the Church bursts at the seams. Not only do the sides fill up, but so too does the back. In the 90’s, the brothers even decided to convert the back wall to be able to open up and extend the seating to the outdoors. But in January, we were there before the rush, so I took my place to worship beside the brothers, sitting on the floor.

I didn’t know what to expect and I was having a heck of a time getting comfortable, but I was given a small booklet of songs and I sat enchanted by the music filling the space. Brother Roger constructed worship at Taize to be one of prayer and contemplation. He composed many songs and worship was simple, comprised only of song, silence, prayers, and on certain days, the sacrament of communion. The songs were all sung like Gregorian chants: short stanzas, easy to memorize and repeated over and over again. Their goal was to “express a basic reality, quickly grasp the mind, then gradually penetrate the entire person.”

We have sung some Taize chants here, but never for as long as they do in Taize. After we sang, we would spend 20 minutes in silence, before coming back together with prayer and song. At first this silence felt like an eternity and keeping quiet and not squirming uncomfortably as my body ached on the floor were really all I could think about that first evening. However, as we moved through the week, as we practiced forming this muscle of contemplation and silence three times per day, my soul gradually began to break open little by little.

I think so often in our society today we reject silence. So many distractions exist at our fingertips that we panic in silence. Some people, like me with perfectionist tendencies, might even fret over whether or not we’re engaging the silence correctly! Agonizing over the inability to quiet our thoughts and peeking at our neighbors wondering how they can look so calm and serene! I think we reject silence for fear of what we might have to face within it.. for fear of what we might have to actually think about and confront.. for fear of listening to the Lord so intently, scared of what we might be told.

Sitting in silent prayer before God felt at first like I was under God’s microscope. I waited with anticipation for God to point out all the cracks and holes within me that I knew I needed to fix before I could graduate, get ordained, and lead God’s people. However, day after day as I chanted, as I sat and listened and journaled, Taize did have its way with me. On the second to last day, during evening prayer, I found myself crying quietly but uncontrollably. At the time I had no words for this experience. One of those cracks I so desperately wanted to hide from God had broken open and Niagara Falls had pushed through! A part of my soul had ruptured and there was no going back, no putting humpty dumpty back together again. But this wasn’t the kind of life shattering experience that leaves a permanent scar, rather it was the kind of life shattering experience that opens you to a whole new world, a whole new way of being. What I had come to let go of was my need to have all the answers and to be perfect as Christ is perfect. Ultimately, what I had let go of was the deranged belief that I was unworthy of life or love. I had finally found the courage to turn my face toward the sun to soak in the unconditional, transformational love of God and take my seat at the table of communion God prepared for me, for all of us.

Life at Taize is unlike anything I’ve experienced anywhere else. Outside of the three designated worship times, there isn’t much structure on what to do. We went to Bible study held by one of the brothers every day for a half hour. Sometimes my professor held class discussions. And everyone was given a task, an act of service, to engage in during their stay. This might be helping to cook the meal, helping to set up or clean up the meal, or cleaning another space. For me, it was to clean the restrooms. BUT LUCKILY, as mentioned, we were there at a slow time with few people. This left us a LOT of free time to get to know one another, to walk the grounds and village, to meditate, to rest, and to just BE.

Communing with the other young adults who came to Taize was a highlight of my stay. Many of them had been to Taize before, but I was so amazed at their bravery to travel and stay there by themselves or with just one companion. It was amazing to hear about their lives in their own countries and see how much we had in common. I could experience in real time Brother Roger’s dream come to life; of Christians of all nations coming together to live in peace. His dream wasn’t naïve, nor was it far off. It was right there, amongst the remote hills of France, savoring an era of peace after enduring the bloodshed and terror of two world wars.

Hundreds of thousands of people make a pilgrimage to Taize every year. While the monastery is not Catholic, but ecumenical, Pope John Paul II visited in 1986. In a speech he gave there, I think he summarizes the experience of Taize exceptionally well. He said, “One passes through Taize as one passes close to a spring of water. The traveler stops, quenches his thirst and continues on his way. The brothers of the community, you know, do not want to keep you. They want, in prayer and silence, to enable you to drink the living water promised by Christ, to know his joy, to discern his presence, to respond to his call, then to set out again to witness to his love and to serve your brothers and sisters in your parishes, your schools, your universities, and in all your places of work.”

He told the brothers, “By desiring to be yourselves a ‘parable of community,’ you will help all whom you meet to be faithful to their denominational ties, the fruit of their education and their choice in conscience, but also to enter more and more deeply into the mystery of communion that the Church is in God’s plan. By his gift to his Church, Christ liberates in every Christian forces of love and gives them a universal heart to be creators of justice and peace.”

Brother Roger spoke of the ‘springtime of the Church,’ envisioning a resurrection of the body of Christ that began around the table at Christ’s last supper. He has entrusted to the brothers and to every pilgrim a vision for a renewed Church, one that embodies unity, reconciliation, and peace; “a Church that is a place of sharing and a leaven of reconciliation at the heart of humanity.” A dream we can enact, which might get us one step closer to the feast of Isaiah on that mountaintop with God.

Passing through Taize allows one’s spirit to not only hear the story of communion, but engage it with all the senses, so much so that it begins to transform them from the inside out. However, one has to be ready and willing to be transformed, to be cracked open, shattered beyond repair in order to open oneself to God like a flower to the sun.

Like most of our stories of noteworthy Christians, Brother Roger met a tragic end. In the summer of 2005, at the age of 90, during evening prayer service, a young woman entered the brother’s worship space in the middle of the sanctuary and stabbed Roger to death. I haven’t been able to uncover her motive in anything that I’ve read. Rather, in true Roger fashion, all that is ever mentioned is a call to forgiveness and reconciliation: “Lord forgive her, for she knew not what she was doing.”

Brother Roger’s witness to the Gospel lives on through Taize and all its pilgrims, in every act of reconciliation, in every push toward unity, in every sacred space where communion is shared. In his memory, I leave you with this compilation of teachings by Brother Roger himself, “Are you afraid of your fear? A communion with Christ gives you the courage needed for a commitment to make the Earth a place fit to live in, so that the most destitute, those overwhelmed by injustice, are not forgotten.. For trust to rise up all across the world, your life and the lives of a great many people are necessary! If a passion for forgiveness were ablaze within you, then you could kindle sparks of communion even in the darkest days of nations! At present, there are people who have all they need to transform situations that have become rigid. Eagerly longing for divisions to be healed, they stand in the midst of humanity as signs of what we could never have hoped for. They persevere in spite of everything, in spite of all that cannot be changed. By the gift of their lives, they show that human beings were not created for hopelessness. For them, although there are walls to be demolished, there is above all a ‘unique Source’ where the courage for new beginnings can be found again and again.. You know that Jesus the Christ came for ALL not just for a few. Risen, he is united with every human being without exception. Such is the catholicity (universality) of heart God has set within you. Will you let an inner life grow within you, one which has neither beginning nor end? There, you stand at the threshold of the Gospel’s joy, where human solidarities plunge their roots.. By sharing, are you among those who, with very little, generate a fine human hope? With almost nothing, are you a creator of reconciliation in that communion of love which is the Body of Christ, his Church? Sustained by a shared momentum, rejoice! You are no longer alone; in all things you are advancing together with your brothers. With them, you are called to live the parable of community.. Happy the community that becomes an abyss of kindness: it lets Christ shine through, incomparably.” Amen.

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Quotes from: The Sources of Taize, by Brother Roger

Learn more about Taize here: https://www.taize.fr/en/

Listen to worship here: https://www.youtube.com/@taize

Click here to listen to Pastor's favorite Taize chant set to a video of clips to give you a sense of Taize

This chant is in German, set to a prayer by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, which translates:

Gott, lass meine gedanken sich sammeln zu dir God, gather my thoughts to you

Bei dir ist das licht, du vergist mich nicht With you is the light, you do not forget me

Bei dir ist die hilfe, bei dir ist die geduld With you is help, with you is patience

Ich verstehe deine wege nicht I do not understand your ways

Aber du weist den weg fur mich. But you know the way for me