Evensong at the Cathedral Church of St German - Diocese of Sodor and Man

I am delighted that my first visit to your diocese ends with worship at this Parish Church of Peel which, 20 years ago, was hallowed as your Cathedral. I understand that the original 13th century cathedral fell into disuse in the 18th century and then into eventual ruin. Now, some may have seen that physical decay of the cathedral as a symptom of a spiritual decay. Some may have felt that the days of this diocese were over -- that it was time for the Church on Man to pack up and go away. But I am told that the motto under the three-legged symbol of Man means, 'Whichever way you throw it, it will stand.'

That tenacious stability of the Manx people is characteristic of the Church on this Isle as well. Whichever way you are thrown - or, perhaps, whatever is thrown at you! - you will stand. And so, twenty years ago, you dedicated these stones as your new cathedral as a gesture of faith in the God who makes us stable, sturdy, and strong as stones.

And, in fact, the passage we heard from First Peter depicts each individual Christian as a stone - a 'living stone' - used by God as a Master Craftsman in the process of constructing a magnificent building. We are told three things about these living stones: they have been specially chosen, they have been shaped or fashioned, and when they are put together as one they have a story to tell.

But before I discuss these three elements, let's pause for a moment to consider the image of a 'living stone.' It's a curious image, isn't it? Rather paradoxical, for stones are normally used to symbolise deadness, dryness, hardness - the opposite of everything we associate with life. If stones were alive, then masons and stonecutters would have a very different and controversial job, and we would no doubt see the emergence of stone-rights activists. But the fact remains that stones are lifeless objects that neither breathe nor bleed. How then can stones live?

The answer -- as is usually the case! -- has to do with Christ. It is Jesus Christ who is the living stone. Peter says, 'Come to him, a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight.' And Christ is not simply any old stone, but indeed the 'cornerstone' in the building -- the great cathedral - that God is constructing, and that building is of course the Church. And so we just sang,

Christ is made the sure foundation
Christ the head and cornerstone
Chosen of the Lord and precious
Binding all the Church in one.

Christ is called a 'stone' because he is the foundation of all God's work. He is called the 'cornerstone' because he sets its shape and structure. He is a 'living stone' because, as he says in the Gospel of John, he is indeed Life itself. And so then we are also 'living stones' when we are joined to Christ and built into God's building, the Church. Christ gives us life, and we become a small part of that most amazing structure. We become a living stone in the hand of the Master Craftsman, 'chosen and precious,' shaped for his purpose and set to tell the story of his wonderful love.

Chosen. There is something quite wonderful about God's call to us. Some of us are called to some form of Christian ministry, whereas others were called to a different vocation, but no one here is ordinary. Each one of us has something quite special and unique to offer God and he accepts our gifts and cherishes them. Being chosen by God for his service requires our assent; our willingness to accept his mission.

Although I have not seen it myself, one of the most popular films this summer was 'Mission Impossible 2' starring Tom Cruise. Cruise plays Ethan Hunt, a top secret agent for the IMF -- the 'Impossible Mission Force'. In the film, as in the television series on which it is based, Ethan Hunt receives his orders via tape recording. The recording always begins with: 'Your mission, Mr Hunt, should you choose to accept it,' and it always ends: 'This message will self destruct in five seconds'. In between the standard beginning and standard ending comes an assignment for an impossible mission, a mission only Mr Hunt can accomplish, a mission of hair-raising danger and excitement, a mission which -- should Mr Hunt choose to accept it -- will entertain the audience for the remainder of the film. Mr Hunt always accepts his mission and the audience is duly entertained.

Now, at first sight, you may think there are few parallels between us and the cloak and dagger world of the Impossible Mission Force. For one thing, we are not usually called upon to dodge bullets -- although I did hear of a harassed Sunday School teacher who once said: 'The next boy to throw a Bible at me goes out!'

But think for a moment. Like Ethan Hunt, we have received an assignment. In our case, that assignment did not come via a tape recording, and it did not self-destruct in five seconds. But it came when we heard the call of God -- however it came to us -- saying 'Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to be my servant'. And each one of us said 'Yes. Yes, I will follow'. Once we have committed ourselves to God, our specific assignments were rather more likely to come through a bishop or senior friend -- who may or may not have said: 'Your mission, should you choose to accept it...'

This takes us into the second thing that Peter tells us -- that we have been chosen to be fashioned, or shaped. God does not simply put stones together as he finds them - no, there is a great deal of cutting and crafting and polishing to do before the stone is ready to be put in place. And since we are 'living stones,' this can be painful! The image is a powerful one, and I'm sure that if any architects and builders are present they could tell us in more detail all that is involved in the physical process. But it is as if Peter is saying: 'I was a stone in a quarry and a master mason took me and with his tools fashioned me into a stone that will fit exactly into the building -- to do the job that only I have been fashioned to do.'

So we are living stones, chosen and fashioned - but to what end? What is God's goal in building the Church? Here is the third and final point Peter makes. All buildings, whatever they are, tell a story. A few weeks ago, my staff and I had a wonderful staff outing, and we took a cruise down the Thames to the Millennium Dome. And as we went down the river from Waterloo to Greenwich, we saw spread out on either side of the river so many of the great buildings of London. St Paul's Cathedral, Southwark Cathedral, the Tower of London, the new Tate Modern, the New Globe Theatre, and all the docks and wharfs. What a story they tell! And the Dome itself - what a story it tells! Each one of those buildings carries a history - the history of its architect, its donors, its builders, and all the people who have lived and worked in them. And each story is different, unique to each building.

This wonderful church -- hallowed by years of prayer; by tears of distress and of joy; by fervent intercessions and sacrificial praise -- also has a story to tell. I've already mentioned the story of its origin - a story of death and rebirth. Even now it speaks of the importance you place on worship, community, prayer and Christian ministry. And in the years ahead it will tell the story of all you men and women, young and old, who helped to build it up and make it the wonderful testimony that it is today of God's unshakeable love for his world.

But our focus today is not simply bricks and mortar. We are concerned with the Divine Architect and his craftsmanship with us, his living stones. So what story does God's building -- the Church -- tell? Peter tells us that we have been 'built into a spiritual house, to be a royal priesthood …. in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.' The Church is not simply to 'tell' a story, but rather to 'proclaim' - to shout out, to blaze forth, to declare with all boldness - the wonderful love of God in Jesus Christ. And we ourselves are to be witnesses of God's redemptive power. We are to show in our own lives, both individual and corporate, that we have been built together into a spiritual house that proclaims God's salvation.

But, sadly, sometimes we in the Church make it difficult rather than easy for people to see God's healing love. Sometimes the story we tell is less about God and more about us. We forget that we are chosen, shaped, and placed into a larger structure than ourselves, and think that the little spot where we reside is the most important. And sometimes, indeed, because we are living stones, we move out of place and alter the very design of the Architect himself. Desmond Tutu used to tell the story of a small black boy who was weeping on the steps of a church where middle-class whites went - a church where he was not welcome. Jesus came to him and said: 'don't worry my boy, I have been trying to get into that church for years!'

But sometimes the Church does tell the story it was designed to tell. For example, I think of the ministry of Thomas Wilson - Bishop of Sodor and Man from 1698 to 1755. That's 57 years! And what years those were. According to J. R. H. Moorman, even though 'the endowment was so slender, Wilson refused to supplement it by holding other benefices and even managed to give nearly half of his income away in charity. During the fifty-seven years that he was Bishop of Man … he scarcely ever left the island, refusing all offers of more lucrative sees on the mainland and devoting himself to the care of his clergy, the preparation of his ordinands, the promotion of education, and the evangelization of his people. He learnt the Manx language and translated Christian literature for the benefit of the humbler folk; he ran a college for students in his own house and taught there daily; he worked as a physician among the sick; he travelled all over the island, and ruled his people with severity, but a severity chastened by love.'

Moorman presents a slightly romanticised view of this great man. For instance, according to the Oxford Dicionary of the Christian Church, one example of what Moorman calls 'severity chastened by love' was Wilson's decision to impose penance on a woman for slander. Unfortunately, the woman was the wife of the governor of Man, and Wilson was briefly imprisoned for his stong belief in Church discipline.

Nevertheless, he stands as a shining example of the hard work, commitment, imagination, and devotion required to build up the Church so that it may tell the story God designed it to tell.

Yes, it is true that today we have a Mission Impossible -- at least humanly speaking. But it is not beyond God's capabilities to reach into our lives with his grace and show us the power of his transforming love. This cathedral is living proof of that, as is the witness of Thomas Wilson, the continuing vitality of the Diocese of Sodor and Man, and the ongoing life of the Anglican Communion. To adapt this Island's motto, 'Whichever way you throw us, we will stand.' And so I say to you, in the words of the Apostle Paul,

stand your ground. Stand fast, I say. Fasten on the belt of truth; for a breastplate put on integrity; let the shoes on your feet be the gospel of peace, to give you firm footing; and with all these, take up the great shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the burning arrows of the evil one. Accept salvation as your helmet, and the sword which the Spirit gives you, the word of God. Constantly ask God's help in prayer, and pray always in the power of the Spirit. To this end keep watch and perservere, always interceding for all God's people.

This, my brothers and sisters, is 'your mission, should you choose to accept it'. You have been chosen by God, fashioned into his likeness to proclaim his love. And that message - unlike any human building -- is indestructible!