The scandalous truth about the real St George

Over the summer a concerted campaign began called ‘Raise the Colours’ to fly St George’s and Union flags all over England. It is a clever tactic promoted by certain groups objecting to what they see as mass immigration. Who could object to flying the nation’s flag? Surely the St George’s flag flying from the parish church steeple is as much a part of English life as cricket on the green, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding or the fact that even the worst situation gets better with a nice cup of tea?

One little-known fact about Church of England clergy is that we tend to know rather a lot about St George. This is because most of us have taken part in St George’s Day celebrations with Scouts or Guides at some stage, where we have had to do a talk. When I saw the coverage of the flags this summer, I wondered how much those raising them know about St George and his story. As I’ve reflected, I’ve thought about my own sense of patriotism in the context of my Christian faith, and the many reasons why people fly flags.

Let’s start with a few things which are probably not true about St George. There is no evidence that he ever visited England. There is no reliable evidence that he killed a dragon; that’s a legend which arose nearly 1,000 years after his death. (And, without wanting to burst anyone’s bubble, dragons don’t exist.)

So who was the real St George? He was in fact named Georgios, born around 270 AD in Cappadocia, in modern-day Turkey. His mother is thought to have been a Christian and his father an officer in the Roman army. George joined the army and was promoted into the elite Praetorian guard under Emperor Diocletian. According to many Christian traditions, George and Diocletian were close, even when the Emperor decided that loyalty to the Roman cult which worshipped him as a God had to exclude faith in any other God. George and many of his fellow Christians refused to deny their belief in Jesus Christ and bow to Diocletian. The Emperor offered him land, money and power, but he did not win George round; in the end he chose death over compromise. He was beheaded on 23 April 303 on the orders of the Emperor, during a major persecution of Christians.

When English people fly St George’s flag, we are in good company. He is also the patron saint of Portugal, Romania, Greece, Bulgaria, Israel, Ethiopia and (naturally) Georgia.

When English people fly St George’s flag, we commemorate someone who put his allegiance to Jesus ahead of his allegiance to his empire. He was a Christian first and a Roman second; when those two conflicted, he chose Jesus.

When English people fly St George’s flag, we commemorate someone who turned down privilege and luxury, opting instead for a martyr’s death. In a society deeply divided into haves and have-nots, where slavery and prostitution were par for the course, he refused to go with the flow.

When English people fly St George’s flag, we commemorate someone who preferred not to side with the political establishment, but rather with a marginalised, hated and feared minority.

Ultimately when English people fly St George’s flag, we raise the bloodied cross of Jesus Christ over our communities. We signal that we are not our own; someone owns us. The one who owns us is the one who came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. He is the one who came for the least, the last and the lost. He fled to Egypt from Bethlehem as a refugee, not a VIP. He said that to follow him you need to deny yourself and take up your cross. He died a criminal’s death in shame and disgrace. He was raised to life to show God’s victory over sin and death.

Not everyone who flies St George’s flag understands that it is the symbol of a Turkish man who was killed for his scandalous, radical beliefs. In fact so many features of English life owe a lot to people we might think of outsiders. The people most likely to be playing cricket on the greens of Woking these days are those whose families originated in South Asia, whose passion for our national game is infectious. The reason we drink tea in Britain is because of our relationship with our former colonies in Africa and South Asia, where it grows. The lives of churches all over our country, including St Mary of Bethany, has been enriched by Christians arriving from all over the world, and those discovering faith for the first time. That is what our country’s flag represents: the true unity of humanity is found only at the cross. It is a lot to live up to.