Sermon for the Eve of the Feast of St George – 27^th April 2025

Alleluia Christ is risen. He is risen indeed Alleluia!

May I speak in the name of the living God who is our creator, sustainer and redeemer. Amen.

In December 2016, a suicide bomber attacked St Peter and St Paul’s Church in Cairo, killing 29 people – mostly women and children. Amid the wreckage, a young girl was spotted walking past the scorched sanctuary, clutching a small wooden cross. “She carries it every day,” said an elder of the church. “Her parents told her: If they come for you, don’t be afraid. Hold the cross tight. And remember who you are.”

She had seen such violence and fear, but what she held so tightly in her hand, and in her heart, was so much stronger: What she held was a witness.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

The prophet Jeremiah, all the witnesses named in tonight’s reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, St George, and the girl in the bombed-out wreckage, each were witnesses to the cost of faithfulness.

So, let me ask on this second Sunday of Easter: What is the cost of this faithfulness – and are we prepared to pay it?

This question is not a theoretical one. Certainly not for the Coptic Christians of Cairo. Not for Jeremiah the prophet, nor the martyrs in Hebrews, nor for St George for that matter. And not, ultimately, for us.

Yes, Easter is a season of joy – but resurrection isn’t the opposite of suffering. It is God’s answer to suffering. And it’s not a cheap answer either. The open wounds of the risen body of Jesus Christ testifies to that.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

In our first reading, Jeremiah’s faithfulness comes at great personal cost. “Why is my pain unceasing?” he laments (Jer. 15:18). Speaking God’s word has not made him triumphant; it has made him lonely. Yet he continues: “Your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart” (Jer. 15:16). Not joy as comfort, but joy as fire – a holy fire that sustains us when all else is stripped away.

The theologian Walter Brueggemann calls the prophet “one who carries in their body the anguish of God.” To be a prophet and witness is a painful vocation. But in Easter light, we know it is a vocation that is not in vain. For God’s anguish leads not only to the foot of the cross, but onwards to its ultimate destination, to the empty tomb, to resurrection light.

Because Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In our second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews, we heard a roll call of faithful witnesses: some were victors, others were victims, each one, according to the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews “Of whom the world was not worthy” (Heb. 11:38). Yet none of them received the fullness of what was promised – “so that apart from us they should not be made perfect” (Heb. 11:40). Resurrection does not mark the end of Jesus’ story, rather it marks the beginning of the Christian story, of our story.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

St George, whose feast day is tomorrow, stands among those witnesses. Not as some mythical dragon-slayer, but as a martyr. He was executed by the Roman Empire for refusing to renounce Christ. His legend has unfortunately been distorted into nationalism, but the truth is that St George died for a kingdom not of this world and his faithfulness cost him everything – but not even death had the final word.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Easter is the ultimate sign, the ultimate articulation that the grave is not the end. The cost of faithfulness is real – but the reward is not a medal or a certificate, it is the promise, the sure and certain hope, of the resurrection, of the life beyond death. The path towards resurrection does not bypass or avoid pain and suffering but it is a journey that ultimately leads us to joy.

Hebrews urges us: “Let us run with perseverance the race set before us, looking to Jesus” (Heb. 12:1-2). This is the very Jesus, who endured the cross so that we could all experience resurrection joy. The risen Christ bears his wounds, but he is no longer bound by them.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

As late German theologian Jürgen Moltmann puts it: “The resurrection of Christ is not the consolation for suffering; it is the protest of God against suffering.”

Easter doesn’t erase the cost of discipleship – but it declares death defeated, the silence of the tomb broken, and the wounds of Good Friday transfigured by the light of Easter morning.

This is the hope that sustained Jeremiah. This is the hope that gave St George courage. This is the hope held in her hand by that little girl in Cairo. And it is the hope that empowers us not just to endure, but to run the race that is set before us.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

So, what is the cost of this faithfulness?

It may cost reputation. It may cost comfort or security. For some, like St George, it may cost life itself. But the cost is never the end of the story. Because, as the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, Jesus endured “for the joy set before him.”

And that is that joy? It is not only a distant reward in heaven. It is the joy that breaks into the present – in every act of justice, every word of truth, every sign of love stronger than death.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

It is the joy of the risen Christ, who declares: “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev. 21:5).

Easter does not remove the dragons we face – whether systems of oppression, personal loss, cultural hostility, or even our own demons. But it declares: they will not win.

Because Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!

As Kathleen Norris, the American poet and essayist, writes, “Faith is not about being sure where you’re going, but going anyway.”  For to be faithful in Eastertide is to live with the wounds and still sing the song of joy. To run the race, with our attention firmly fixed on Jesus – not because the way is easy, but because he has already completed it, and travels with us still.

So we return to our question: What is the cost of this faithfulness – and are we prepared to pay it?

Are we prepared, like Jeremiah, to speak the Word that wounds us?

Are we prepared to be like the witnesses mentioned in the Letter to the Hebrews, whose devotion to God was such that they chose to make the ultimate sacrifice rather than betray their beliefs?

Are we prepared, like George, to defy empire in loyalty to another kingdom?

Are we prepared, like the girl in Egypt, to hold tightly to hope when all around is violence?

Are we prepared, like Jesus, to bear the cross – and still speak of joy?

Because the world needs witnesses. The world needs prophets. The world needs resurrection people.

So, my friends, let us run the race together. Let us endure. Let us live out in word and deed the hope of the risen Lord, so that it may be said of us: “Of whom the world was not worthy.”

Because, Alleluia. Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia. Amen.