I am the Gate – A St George’s Day reflection

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in your sight O God, my strength and my redeemer. Amen.

Peter Koenig’s picture: I Am The Gate

The Gospel reading for Sunday is Jesus saying “I am the Gate”; and he also said “I am the way, the truth and the life” – which is a direct Greek translation of the Aramaic phrase “I am the true and living way”. Christ is the Gate, and the true and living Way; and the Mediator between God and creation. We’ll come back to that picture.

But I wanted to talk about St George, as Thursday was St George’s Day.

When Cranmer revised the calendar of saints for the Church of England, he essentially removed from major festivals everyone except New Testament saints like the 12 disciples and St Paul – but he kept St George. He is, after all, the patron saint of England, though historians dispute his dragon-slaying abilities. The only certain aspect of the St George story seems to be his death, occurring under the Roman persecution of Diocletian and Maximian around AD 303.

The story of his death from the Golden Legend martyrology collection goes like this:

Now at this time Diocletian and Maximian were emperors, and under them, there was such great persecution of Christians that within a month, twenty-two thousand were martyred. For this reason, some were so afraid that they denied God and sacrificed to the idols. Seeing this, Saint George abandoned his knight’s raiment, sold all that he had, gave it to the poor, and put on the raiment of a Christian brother.

He went into the midst of the pagans and began to cry, “The gods of the pagans and gentiles are devils. My God made the heavens and is the only God.”

Then the provost, whose name was Dacian, said to him, “How can you say that our gods are devils? Tell us who you are.”

He answered, “I am named George. I am a gentleman, a knight of Cappadocia, and I have left all in order to serve the God of heaven.”

The provost attempted with words to convert Saint George to his faith, and failing to do so, had Saint George beaten with iron rods until his body was broken in pieces, then sent to prison. Our Lord appeared to George that same night and comforted him sweetly.

…

At last, the provost said to Saint George, “Our gods are patient and forgiving. Abandon your folly and make sacrifices to our gods, and great honour will come to you.”

Saint George replied, “Why did you not say so earlier? I am ready to do as you request.”

So, the provost called all the people together to witness the conversion of their prisoner. Saint George fell to his knees, but instead of worshipping the pagan gods, he called upon the Lord God of heaven to destroy their temple and their idols. Immediately, fire descended from heaven, burning the temple, the idols, and their priests.

Good stuff, isn’t it!?

Then the provost was so angry that he said to his wife, “I shall die of anger if I cannot overcome this man.”

She replied, “Evil and cruel tyrant! Do you not see the great virtue of the Christian people? I told you that you should not do them any harm, for their God fights for them. Know well that I will become Christian.”

Much abashed, the provost said to her, “You will be a Christian?” Then, taking her by the hair, he beat her cruelly.

Then she asked Saint George, “What will become of me? I have not yet been baptised.”

He answered, “Doubt not, fair daughter, for you shall be baptised in your own blood.”

She began to worship our Lord Jesus Christ, then died and went to heaven.

The next morning, the provost had Saint George beheaded.

George compared death to baptism, and Jesus compares his death to baptism (“But I have a baptism to undergo, and what constraint I am under until it is completed!”).

Because the children of God, after having been immersed for a time by the death of the body, shortly afterwards rise again to life, so that death is nothing else than a passage through the midst of waters. He says that he is sorely pressed till that baptism has been accomplished, that he may encourage every one of us, by his example, both to bear the cross and to prefer death. Not that anyone can have a natural preference for death, or for any lessening of present happiness, but because, when we contemplate on the farther bank the glory, and the blessed and immortal rest of heaven, we not only suffer death with patience, but are even carried forward by eager desire where faith and hope lead us.

Peter Koenig’s picture

Amen.

The Rev’d Michael Aylmer,
St Mary Magdalene, Enfield,
23/04/2026