A transcript of the Taizé homily given by Matt Jarvis, on January 10, 2010: 

Think of what a river is....

If you'd never seen one, imagine if you were just visiting Earth...try
to imagine walking for days and days on dry land, becoming confidant
you knew the laws of the universe were solid beneath your feet, and
then you come to a river. Like the Mississippi... All of the sudden
all the laws of nature are different. What is this strange moving
ground? What is this strange place? A river is to land like an island
is to ocean. If you came upon it for the first time it is a place to
question everything you know... If knowledge is solid ground, a
question is a river. It is tumult and torrent and even today we do not
swim across them.

But what better place to be transfigured than water.

I am a parishioner here. My name is Matt Jarvis and I am also the
Architect who will build our new Sanctuary. When I give a Homily I am
speaking as a parishioner, but in my heart I'm always an Architect.
And what that means is that I refuse to see the world as it is, that I
choose to see it as I imagine it can be, and however painful and with
whatever cost, that I choose to live inside that dream and do what I
can to make it real. I want to say something briefly this evening as a
parishioner about my experience working with fellow parishioners here
to design a new Sanctuary, because in these Homilies we speak about
what St Thomas means to each of us, and how we feel, and what this
place has shown us about faith, so we can know each other better.

What I feel is great joy. When I work on the design of the future
Sanctuary here at St Thomas I feel aware of the world around me like I
did when I was five. I feel a fire in my heart that makes me feel
alive in a way that I only feel when I am traveling abroad and seeing
and discovering the unknown for the first time... like the Engadine. I
feel a well of optimism when there is absolutely no reason to... when
things are darkest I feel a warm light on my face, like my body's not
my own in a way too wonderful to describe...and what I'm learning
through this process is that this is faith... A Serenity that I sense
has nothing to do with me, or what I want, or who I am, or what's best
for me, but rather one made purely out of joy. Like joy was a stone
and you could cut it. One completely void of the consoling doubt we
force to reassure, "everything will work out as it should."... It
doesn't matter. The joy I feel is one stripped down to its rawest,
coarsest, most essential state... Fire.

St Thomas burned in 1970, and now, forty years later, we are trying to
resurrect it from the ashes... Make it new. And regardless of whether
that is destined to be or not to be the people who are trying have
tapped into something alive, that they are in communion with. Patient
and raging, and altogether positive. Parishioners are sending me
images of beautiful things that inspire them that they want to share
with me. Christopher Richmond sent me the most amazing silent film
yesterday on Facebook, filled with images of the most beautiful
architecture in the world juxtaposed with slow surreal scenes set to
beautiful classical music... Tim Johnson and Kristin Jones and so many
others are all sharing with me what they find to be beautiful... and
artists, being inspired by their excitement, are donating original
pieces to our future Worship Space...Nate West and Brad Latham are
donating their time and exceptional talents to create the art we'll
use to ask for pledges, John Johnson and Chris Norman and Dave
Vanneman so many others are all working to use this opportunity to
grow the message and ministry of the Parish.... My friends, this is
it! This is living in community. Right now, whether you can see it or
not, take my word for it there is something extraordinary happening
here at St Thomas. People are engaged with each other in something
that allows them to share who they really are, free and clear without
fear, beyond small-talk coffee-table conversations, speaking on behalf
of their souls now and how they feel and what they dream, and we are
sacrificing their hard-earned time and money to for once let them lead
us...!

I'm in awe.

And it would be easy if we had money; if we were a rich church with
unlimited resources. But our faith in our dream is real because we
don't. From my point of view I see a Parish that is truly walking that
path, discontent to be secure in the dry-land mentality of what we
think we know, but walking into the river, to whatever end, because
we've seen in each other the desire to be transformed as a collective.
That is extraordinary.

Make no mistake, St Thomas Parish is not a building. It is the river.
And St Thomas Parish was not burned down. It is the fire, itself. This
is the place where people come in community to be renewed,
rejuvenated, baptized among friends and family by the water in that
basin and by the effort of our work. And it's here where the Spirit
descends into us, as we descend into it, as the river is raging and
times are hard and choices are hard and work is hard and yet our
hearts remain joyful.... Awake. Aware. Alive.

This is the place where the dream meets the real. I know it because I
am being baptized every day, transfigured by the good work of my good
friends in this good place, and their dreams.

And my dream is, when all the people are baptized, heaven will open
like the Red Sea or new bright red doors and the Spirit will be there
and we will be witness, and we will stand in the soft warm light while
it says, "You are my Beloved. With you I am well pleased."

Amen.