My children love to ask my husband and me to tell stories from our childhood or from the first years of our relationship. Last week, they asked me laughingly, “Did
Daddy ever save your life?” While my husband Larry modestly denied any heroics, I launched into a story of his brave rescue of his chosen damsel in our dating days.
I was on day 10 of a grueling mission trip where we were mixing concrete and helping build a village church. Overestimating my remaining strength, I struck out for an ocean swim with my friends, aiming for a nearby reef. Then several of the swimmers, including Larry, struck painful sea urchins, so we began to swim back to shore. I suddenly lost strength and began to panic. He gallantly assisted me back to shore, putting his own pain aside to support my mortified efforts at buoyancy.
Later, I learned Larry had chosen St. George as his confirmation saint many years before. He has multiple artistic renditions of the famed moment when George slays the dragon to free the princess. Our boys have always loved that story.
Recently, there has been a well-intentioned emphasis on the difference between true hagiography (stories of the lives of the saints) and the legends that sprang from their enthusiastic cult followings. St. George saving the princess is likely a medieval fabrication rather than a historical escapade from this 4th-century martyr.
However, I would argue that there is a meaningful place within Christian storytelling for fable as well as fact.
St. George’s lesser-known martyrdom presents us with a concrete testament to faith and bravery. But his dragon-slaying story gives us an example of the type of heroism a man is capable of when he is focused on the needs of others above his own comfort and safety.
That image is true to mankind and to his spiritual heights, whatever the story origin may be. In fact, it is a reflection of Christ as He willingly faces the devil, rejecting his self-preservation for the sake of ransoming us from our debt to sin and its consequences. We need icons of hope, bravery and virtue in a world where the legal expressions of our faith are continually reduced. If we happen to associate St. George with that image, I imagine that he is graciously helping us to receive the graces available to those of us who would hazard our reputation, comfort and life to the Kingdom.
The other day I heard a popular children’s television show reverse the narrative. In this retelling, the princess enlists the help of a dragon to save a knight in distress.
Much could be said about modern media and the bombardment of power princesses and misunderstood dragons. But what interested me was that in the new story we lose the unique expression of feminine and masculine strength conveyed in the original story. The medieval princess was a willing victim, facing the dragon because she wanted to save her people from his wrath. The knight was not forced to intervene but chose to do so because of his honor and charity. In his humility, he refused any offers of gifts or of power the king could give in thanks.
Author and Catholic essayist G.K. Chesterton felt that children’s stories serve a deeper purpose than mere entertainment. He wrote, “The (child) has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon. Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him for a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.”
Virtue is a real source of power because it comes from Him who is all good, all powerful and all loving. Modern heroes who are all brawn or genius tech fail to give us an honest portrait of hope because, even after several cups of coffee, we are not super-human. We need someone to show us how to be brave and faithful even when we feel weak. St. George does that for us, as a true martyr and as a legendary icon of virtuous courage.
Kelly Henson is a Catholic writer and speaker who explores the art of integrating faith into daily life. She and her family are parishioners of Our Lady of Grace Parish in Greensboro. She blogs at www.kellyjhenson.com.