We might have to change the English flag, but Alban is a better choice for patron saint than George

 St George's Day, 23 April, may go almost unnoticed in England, but the dragon slayer is also the patron saint of many other countries, cities and regions - where traditions range from street parties and carnivals to the simple act of handing out red roses.

An interesting article on the BBC website today reminds us that Palestinians have particular reason to display the symbol and revere the early Christian martyr. For them he is a local hero who opposed the persecution of his fellow Christians in the Holy Land.

St George was a Roman soldier during the Third Century AD, when the Emperor Diocletian was in power.

It is said that he once lived in al-Khadr near Bethlehem, on land owned by his mother's family.

The saint is remembered for giving away his possessions and remaining true to his religion when he was imprisoned and tortured before he was finally executed.

There are many churches in the West Bank and Israel today that bear the name of St George - at al-Khadr, Lod and in the Galilee, for example.

In the 1,700 years or so since his death, he has also become identified with other figures, some historical and some mythical.

The legend of him saving a maiden by killing a dragon probably originated in the Middle Ages.

But quite why someone, however noble, who lived in Palestine in the third century should be the patron saint of England is anyone’s guess, especially when there is a far better home-grown candidate from the same century who actually lived and died here.

The city of St Albans, where I live, is named after Alban, who is generally accepted to be the first Christian martyr in Britain. He was a resident of Verulamium, the Roman town on the site, at the time the third largest in Britain after London and Bath.

Whilst sheltering a priest fleeing from persecution Alban became a Christian himself and was beheaded for refusing to recant. The full civil trial that led to his execution in AD 209 was advised by the son of the Roman Emperor Septimius Severus who was visiting the town at the time.

After Verulamium had fallen into ruin they built a church and later a cathedral out of its bricks on the very spot where Alban had lost his life. The cathedral still contains a shrine dedicated to him.

Alban was not the only resident of St Albans to give his life for his faith. In 1555 a non-conformist, George Tankerfield, was burnt at the stake outside the cathedral for refusing to believe the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation (that the bread and wine at the eucharist literally become the body and blood of Jesus Christ).

One doesn’t face death now in Britain for becoming a Christian or refusing to believe denominational doctrine and certain not for being a non-conformist. (Our own church was formed when a group of non-conformist believers were thrown out of what is now St Albans Cathedral  during the great ejection in 1662. It now meets peacefully just a hundred yards from the Cathedral gate).

But that aside, the events of Alban’s life illustrate two great eternal truths.

Alban gave his own life whilst at the same time clothing a stranger in a cloak of protection. In this way he was giving witness to his own master Jesus Christ, who through his death on the cross in our place clothes us with his own righteousness, thus protecting us from the judgement of God which we all rightfully deserve. This is the truth of substitutionary atonement, the very heart of the Christian faith, which we celebrate at Easter.

And just as the bricks of Alban’s Roman town were taken to build a cathedral as testimony again to Jesus, so the Kingdoms of this world will be superseded and conquered by the Kingdom of God which will endure forever. This is the truth of God’s sovereign rule over history and Christ’s triumph over and redemption of all creation.

By God's design, Rome took the lives of both Jesus and Alban. But Rome is long dead whilst Christ lives, and through him Alban and we also, if we respond to him in repentance and faith.

So by all means keep George for England’s patron saint if you will, but as for me, I’m with Alban and would be happy to substitute his flag (left)  for George’s Red Cross on a white background any day. 

It needn’t change the Union Jack that much either -  the various flags of Northern Ireland, Wales and Scotland together would give us the same basic red, white and blue arrangement. All we would need to add is a strip of yellow to the diagonals. Think about it.

David Cameron is right about loving one’s neighbour but has he missed the whole point of Easter?

Tony Blair’s spin doctor Alistair Campbell famously said that the Labour government didn’t ‘do God’ but the Prime Minister’s Easter address to church leaders has him trending on twitter as #CameronJesus. Today he has called for Christians to be ‘unashamedly evangelical’.

David Cameron’s pronouncements have sparked controversy and criticism from both sides of the political spectrum. Is the astronomical rise of charity food banks a consequence of the Coalition government’s welfare policy creating a new class urban poor? Is the exodus of traditional Tory voters to UKIP linked to Cameron embracing same sex marriage? What would Jesus, who had a heart for the poor and upheld the principle of ‘one man, one woman for life’, say to Cameron about both these issues?

Would he side with the 40 Anglican bishops and 600 church leaders who wrote a letter this week calling on all political parties to tackle the causes of food poverty? Or with conservative evangelicals who sought to prevent the legal redefinition of marriage? Or both? Or neither?

But others have raised different questions altogether. Giles Fraser, priest-in-charge at the Parish Church of St Mary, south London, has criticised Cameron for reducing Christianity to merely ‘a religion of good works’.

The Prime Minister’s praise for the ‘countless acts of kindness carried out by those who believe in and follow Christ’ and his expounding of Christ’s command to ‘love thy neighbour’ is all well and good Fraser says.  

But it is not, as Cameron would have it, ‘the heart of Christianity’. Easter is about Christ’s death on a Roman cross and his resurrection. And Jesus was not crucified for ‘doing good’ but for what he said. Fraser argues that Cameron has sidestepped ‘full throttle Christianity’ to embrace a diluted faith devoid of doctrine that will be more palatable in a society which is essentially secular and post-Christian.

He laments the fact that what we get from politicians is ‘a pallid imitation of Christianity’, just ‘empty gesture politics’. Real faith, he argues, means ‘taking hard decisions and standing by them’. It is about addressing ‘darkness and struggle’. We have to ‘walk the way of the cross’, to ‘face rejection and humiliation’.

Fraser draws attention to those many places around the world where Christianity remains a criminal offence and asks ‘If Christianity was illegal in this country, would there be enough evidence to convict you of it?’

Cameron and Fraser are both partly right. Jesus did say that loving one’s neighbour summed up the moral teaching of the Old Testament Law and Prophets. And he did call his followers to take up their cross and follow him. He demanded nothing short of utter obedience, complete devotion, with all its consequences. ‘If you love me you will obey my commands’.

St Paul said that what ultimately mattered was ‘faith expressing itself through love’ and that ‘everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted’. Both service and suffering are part of the package.

But, having said this, Christianity is not primarily about what we do for God. It is rather about what he has done for us. This does not mean that following Christ does not have profound moral implications. It does. But good works are not the way to God, but a response to his grace and mercy.

The two key questions raised by the historical events that we remember this week are not primarily about how we should live – important though that is – but are rather about the person and work of Christ. ‘Who actually was Jesus?’ and ‘Why did he choose to die?’

Miss those and we miss the whole point of Easter. And the Gospel accounts leave us in no doubt as to what Christ taught about either. We cannot divorce Jesus’ moral teaching from what he said about his own identity and mission, and our predicament.

Cameron and Fraser each have part of the truth. But before we ask what God would have us do, we need first to know who this man nailed to a wooden gibbet in first century Palestine actually was, and is, and why it was necessary for him to die… and to rise.