I HAVE it on good authority that Heaven threw a party the other day to mark the arrival of George, a bent, white-haired pensioner.

A nobody' on earth, upstairs angels raised the roof.

They weren't just rejoicing over one sinner that repents' (Luke 15), they were celebrating over the thousands George had helped to save en route to his own eternal life.

George himself said sorry to God as a young navy rating.

His promise to follow Jesus included a pledge to tell at least 10 people a day how they too could be saved.

George frequented a certain city street handing out Bible tracts, each time smiling and asking, "Are you saved? If you died tonight would you be sure of going to heaven?"

Through a series of odd coincidences, it was recently discovered that hundreds of thousands of Christians worldwide now owe their new, eternal lives to George's simple testimony.

God used George's quiet, non-threatening style to convert hundreds who eventually became Christian leaders who also led people to Christ.

The world thought George was a silly old codger who had no right to trespass on other people's beliefs.

Not Jesus. He celebrated one man who faithfully carried out his last will and testament to go and make disciples (Matthew 28).

I wonder if on Monday we took this George as our patron saint, would a more-inspired England slay its modern dragons more easily?