Saint Sylvester and the Dragon

A Saint's Tale Retold by Patty Kyrlach

In Italy, New Year’s Eve is called  “La notte di San Silvestro,” the Night of Saint Sylvester. Many legends are told about this Catholic Saint, but perhaps the most impressive is the story of Saint Sylvester and the Dragon.

During the reign of Emperor Constantine, Rome was besieged by an evil dragon that lived in a large pit outside the city. The breath of the beast poisoned the air, and a thick cloud of fear and dread hung over domes and arches, baths and basilicas. For every day, the dragon slew more than 300 men with his breath. 

The citizens began to rail against the emperor, saying that it was because he had converted to Christianity that this terrible dragon had come to destroy them all.

Constantine called for St. Sylvester and asked what could be done to save the city. Sylvester was no warrior, no military strategist. He knew only one thing to do. He prayed, and St. Peter appeared to him and gave him a message.

St. Sylvester appears before Emperor Constantine

Carrying two lanterns and a length of thread, St. Sylvester descended the staircase into the pit—down, down, down into a darkness that grew deeper and a stench that grew stronger. Two enchanters followed Sylvester to see what would happen, but they were too afraid to follow him all the way to the bottom of the pit.

Yet down, down went Sylvester--down 150 treacherous steps to an almost certain doom.

In the darkness flickered only three pale lights--the two lanterns and the eye of the dragon. Swallowing hard and making fists to steel himself, Sylvester spoke the words that St. Peter had told him to say.

Our Lord Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary. 

At first his voice was low and quavery, but as he spoke, the words grew in strength and power.


He was crucified, buried and arose. He now sits at the right hand of the Father. 

Now Sylvester thundered with authority and dominion:

And it is He that shall one day judge the living and the dead. Therefore, I command you, Satan, to remain in this place until he comes.

Then Sylvester stepped right into the face of the dragon and bound its mouth shut with the thread.

St. Sylvester raises the dead.

Triumphant, Sylvester began the ascent out of the pit. The air was already beginning to clear. About halfway up, he found the two enchanters, who converted to Christianity on the spot. As they walked together back to the emperor’s palace, St. Sylvester raised many of the dead who had fallen prey to the dragon.

Thus Rome was saved from a double calamity—the dragon’s fiery breath and the curse of idolatry.

This story reminds me of the words of a hymn written by the great reformer, Martin Luther:

And though this world, with devils filled, 
should threaten to undo us,
we will not fear, for God hath willed 
His truth to triumph through us:
the Prince of Darkness grim, 
we tremble not for him;
his rage we can endure, 
for lo, his doom is sure.
One little word shall fell him.

Happy New Year to all from the Stark Raving Mythopath! Whatever dragons you may face this year, remember to speak the Word of God! 

Sekko and the Dragon

A Japanese Folktale, retold by Patty Kyrlach

Once long ago, in the island country of Japan, there lived an artist named Sekko.

Sekko was famous for his paintings of dragons. He painted colorful dragons on plates and pottery, on fabric and tapestries, on canvases of all sizes, and even on the wall of the great hall of the emperor's palace.

Everyone oohed and ahhed when they saw the flashing eyes, the smoking nostrils, the curled claws, and the fearsome faces of Sekko's dragons. Sekko drew angry dragons, laughing dragons, dancing dragons, sorrowful dragons, and sleeping dragons. He even made a painting of the world's most famous artist reflected in the eye of a dragon.

Soon all the ladies at court were wearing dragon jewelry and braiding their hair with dragon claw combs. The men wore robes made from cloth that imitated dragon scales. Children built cages in hopes of finding a dragon egg and raising a dragon as a pet. But only the emperor was permitted to wear a  robe with a big dragon symbol -- hand painted, of course -- by Sekko.

It came as no surprise when Sekko was asked to lead the Dragon Symposium, an annual seminar dedicated to dragon studies -- their likes and dislikes, their lore and learning, their diet and mating rituals, and the fundamentals of dragon psychology. He drew diagrams of dragon anatomy. 

And he spoke at length on everyone's favorite subject, the fabled treasures of dragons. He painted maps that promised to lead sincere seekers to riches-beyond-reckoning. (No one seemed to notice that the only one getting rich was Sekko.)

Sekko's painting and treasure map business was thriving, until one day, when the earth shook.

In the artist's studio, pots and plates and paintings and tapestries went flying as the floor rocked like a ship in a storm. A burst of flame erupted just before the walls cracked and the roof came caving in. The artist barely escaped with his life.

Was it an earthquake, wondered Sekko? A volcano? The end of the world? 

Lying in a heap by the road, he looked up just in time to see a dragon -- a humongous, rainbow-colored, fire-breathing dragon -- sailing into the clouds.

Everyone came running to find Sekko. "Help us!" they cried. "What do we do now? You know everything about dragons. How can we save our village?"

But Sekko hung his head in shame.

"I don't know," he said. "I've never seen a real dragon before."

- - - - -

Many people are just like Sekko. They think they've got God all figured out. They know his likes and dislikes. They know the kind of people he associates with -- which, what a coincidence! -- is people just like them. They figure that God's political philosophy or theological views must surely match up with their own. Many Americans think that God is a Republican or a Democrat or a Presbyterian or an Episcopalian.

But they've never met God.  Not the humongous, rainbow-colored, fire-breathing God of the Bible.  After Job had an encounter with God, he said, "My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you."  (Job 42:5)  Before he met God, Job had a lot of good suggestions about how God could run the universe; but after his encounter, he could only say, "I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes." (Job 42:6)

The world doesn't need any more experts on God. What the world needs desperately are people who know God personally, people who can show God's love and kindness to everyone.

Stark Raving Mythopath thanks Inez Schneider, who first introduced her to this Japanese story.