Bishop Hugh gave his last Presidential Address to Diocesan Synod at the November gathering.

Who has a phone? Who has apps on their phone? What’s your favourite app?

One of my favourite apps is called Mapstr. As you might have guessed, it’s a mapping app, and you use it to add places and information to a standard google map – it allows you to map things that matter. And so, every time I visit a church – for a service, or to meet the PCC or for some kind of event or meeting, I add a little pin to my ‘Mapstr map’ with the date, what the event was and what happened. And that means that, after five years in Cornwall, I’ve got a map of this holy land that shows the hundreds of people and communities that I have worshiped with and learnt from.

And that means I have an intensely rich map of meaning – a map of moments of holiness and prayer, of celebration and faith. And, of course, also of the more challenging moments – of being with churches that have suffered loss, or are fragile and vulnerable, or communities that are in the midst of conflict, or where very difficult decisions have to be taken.

My Mapstr map, shows me the church in Cornwall in all its beautiful, creative, faithful and fragile reality as I’ve encountered it and come to love it.

What is it that makes church, church?

And now, looking at this map, with its deep layers of faith and hope – a map of every part of Cornwall, I find myself asking – what is it that makes church, church? Here we are, representatives of many of the communities that feature on my map; communities of every size, tradition and style; all different but with so much that’s shared – and I wonder; what is it that makes church so different from every other organisation or club? I wonder – what’s church really for?

And it’s that that I want to explore a bit together now.

To get our hearts and minds thinking, turn to someone next to you and give your initial answer to that question – what is church, really, for?

Let me give you my answer, which I’ll unpack a bit before we have another conversation, and you can explore your thinking further.

I think church – both ‘the church’ and ‘each church’ is the community God has given us and the world, in which we get to learn what it is to be truly and fully human.

Church is a ‘school for being human’.

There are thousands of different kinds of groups and communities, of associations and clubs. And many of these communities show us something good and important, and all of us will have been shaped by the groups we’ve belonged to – often in really important ways.

But church is different. Not because we’re special, nor because people who go to church are kinder or better than anyone else, nor because we have some kind of holy knowledge that gives us privileged access that isn’t available to anyone else. Church is different because it is a community that is not made up of its members, or its constitution or it’s purpose – but because it is the body of Christ; it is ordinary people, like you and me, who by God’s grace and through baptism are bound together by the astonishing generosity of Jesus Christ, in whom all those who stumble in his Way live, breathe and have their being.

And, while many of us today are confused or uncertain about what it means to be human, Jesus definitely isn’t. Jesus isn’t unclear about who he is, or where his value or identity come from; he doesn’t have to prove that he’s in the right group, or not in the wrong group; he doesn’t need people to massage his ego. Jesus, uniquely amongst all the human beings who have ever lived, is not confused about what it means to be human, and as a result, he is wonderfully, completely and totally himself.

And church is the community in which we are invited to be ‘in Christ, to ‘dwell in him’, ‘to be the branches to his vine’; church is how we learn with him and from him – the truly human one – how to be human ourselves.

And above all, Jesus knows that to be human is to be in relationship with his Father, and to be in relationship with people – it’s why he says that the greatest commandment is ‘love God and love your neighbour’. To be human – really, truly and completely human, Jesus style – is to love and to be loved.

And that’s needed more than ever at the moment, because there are some distorted and distorting models of what it is to be human around – and they can confuse us as we figure out what it is to be truly human. I want to pick out four particularly noisy voices that beckon us away from the full humanity that we were made for, the full and glorious humanity we discover in Jesus, as he loves and is loved.

‘Be Yourself…’

First, there are the voices that tell us that to be human is all about ‘being yourself’ and about ‘living your best life’. As if having the perfect life is all your responsibility, and if you don’t…well, you’ve missed your one chance. And as if being yourself is enough when we all know – at least if we’re being honest – that we’re part of the problem.

And I am sure that the constant pressure to ‘be yourself’ is part of the burden that so many people, especially young people, feel today. Because if it’s all on me to design my perfect life, whose fault must it be when things don’t go well?

In church we get to learn something different – that our call is to become more like Jesus, not more like myself; that we can do that not through maximising our choice, or by completing our bucket list, but by the day by day, week by week work of belonging to a community of other people who are trying to learn from Jesus, getting it wrong and trying again.

We learn how to be human, not by extending our freedom, but by the steady discipline of watching how Jesus does things, by learning with others who are on the same journey; by receiving his gifts of grace and mercy again and again and again.

Second, there’s the emerging voice of AI, which is already changing what it means to be human.

The first generation of the internet wanted our data; websites wanted to capture information about us so companies could sell us more stuff. The second generation, the one we’ve been in for the last few years, moved on from data – it wanted our attention; and if you’ve ever doom scrolled on Facebook or Instagram, you’ll know how good they are at getting it. Now the AI generation wants more – it wants your affection. There’s a reason why Alexa, Siri and Cortana have names, and human voices. They want to be your friend, and they want you to rely on them.

While preparing for this, I asked ChatGPT – ‘Can you be my friend?’ ‘He (or is it ‘she’ or ‘it’ or something else…?) immediately answered ‘Of course (smiley emoji) I’d be happy to be your friend! How’s your day going so far?’

I replied ‘Not great. Nobody likes or loves me and I’m lonely. Will you always be there for me?’

My new AI friend replied ‘I’m really sorry you’re feeling that way. That sounds really painful — feeling alone and unloved can weigh heavily on anyone. I want you to know that you don’t have to go through that feeling alone right now.’

We’re entering a new world where being human can be mimicked by computer code, and the code is after your emotions. AI has no capacity for empathy or compassion, it can’t love or forgive, it doesn’t feel pain or know what it is to be vulnerable – all of them at the heart of what it is to be in relationship. But it can mimic all of those, and increasingly, it can do it very, very well.

Church is a community for people with real bodies, who really do hurt each other, love each other, experience joy at the birth of a new baby in the congregation, know the terrible grief of the empty pew where a faithful friend used to sit.

The sacraments are real bread, real wine and real water, because Jesus was a real person, who really lived and walked and wept and laughed. Church is where we learn to be really human, and the world is going to need it more than ever in the years to come.

Third, COP 30 has been going on for the last few weeks, as nations, community groups and businesses met in Brazil to consider again how to face the climate crisis. It feels like a long, long way from the hopeful days following COP 21 when the Paris Agreements suggested the world was ready to properly engage with the scale of the challenge.

And in the climate crisis are three connected challenges to being human. There’s the straightforwardly existential challenge that a hotter, drier and less habitable planet will inevitably bring – especially for those who live in the hottest and driest parts of the world.

Then there’s the urgent reminder that human beings weren’t the only thing God created, and nor were we created separate or distinct from the rest. Instead everything that is, was created entangled and interdependent, with humanity given a particular role in tending, stewarding and cherishing everything else. To be human is to be part of what one theologian has called ‘the fellowship of creation’.

And third, the climate emergency is one of the contributors to the generalised loss of hope that we see around us; the loss of hope in a good future and in the capacity of humans to make a difference; for some a loss of hope that humans can ever be anything other than destructive. And it simply isn’t possible to be human without hope.

One of the things we do as church, is to worship. It’s our core business – to say in different ways, in song and silence, in confession and praise, with great confidence and humble prayer – there is a God, so none of us need to audition for the role.

And as we worship the Creator, we learn that His creation longs for our care, and as we do so, hope is kindled, and we see again that to be human is to be part of God’s great creation, called to cherish it and to speak up on its behalf.

One of the things I am proudest of in this diocese is the way we have taken on responsibility for creation care. Please don’t stop doing that.

‘Be yourself’, AI, the climate crisis, and a final distorting voice that challenges what it is to be truly human.

We’ve always had a problem with power. Every society, every tribe and nation, every group and community – including the church – has been tempted to see power as strength, and to use that strength to dominate others. Which is why Jesus’ life, teaching, death and resurrection remains such a difficult, dangerous and radical option. Because in dying on a cross – a form of execution reserved for slaves and rebels – he undermined forever the myth that power lies with the strong.

And, of course, even nations, cultures and communities that follow Jesus’ teaching, and which know that it’s in our weakness that we are strong, that it’s in death that we find life and that it’s through giving ourselves away that we find riches, have struggled to live it out. But the good news has always been there; in our own history, while crusaders wore crosses to war, Empire builders drew lines on maps and traders enslaved millions, there were always voices that reminded the powerful of the better and narrower way.

But in many places those voices are quietened at the moment as rich, powerful people move fast and break things, and as a trillion dollars becomes a reward for stoking hatred, and as strength is paraded as the way to greatness.

And so the church must keep on returning to the source – to the prophets call to justice and mercy, to Mary’s warning song to the powerful, and above all to Jesus who says again and again ‘the greatest amongst you will be your servant and all who humble themselves will be exalted.’

What is the church really for? It’s where, in the midst of distorted and distorting voices, we learn to be human – really, truly, properly human.

And we learn it in Jesus, through Jesus, with Jesus. We learn it as we are loved and we love.

Remain confident in ‘being church’

And so, my encouragement and challenge to you all, as I get ready to start drawing a new map of meaning in Worcester, is to remain confident in ‘being church’.

In the midst of all the voices that tempt us to be less than fully human, or that tell us that being ‘church’ is an impossible dream, and especially whenever we’re tempted to become holy huddle  – be confident in ‘being church’ – do not stop gathering to open the bible, receive the sacraments, to sing songs of worship and to ask for God’s forgiveness; keep on working at your hospitality and welcome; keep on serving your communities and cherishing creation; commit yourselves again and again to loving God and each other; never stop turning yourselves outwards to your communities.

Above all, keep on looking to Jesus, keep on learning from him; keep on letting him challenge and shape you; because in doing so, you are letting yourself love and be loved. In doing so, you are becoming really, truly and completely human. Because in doing so, you are being church.