Let’s talk about dragons. No, not the fire-breathing kind from fantasy novels—though those aren’t as far off as you might think. In several contexts, the Bible mentions dragons, or at least creatures translated as dragons.
In the Hebrew text, we encounter “tannin,” which different translations render as “dragon,” “serpent,” or “sea monster.” In Job 7:12, Job asks God, “Am I the sea, or a sea monster, that you set a guard over me?” Some versions say “dragon” here instead of “sea monster.” The choice of words reveals translators wrestling with an ancient Hebrew term that might have meant anything from a crocodile to a whale.
The Leviathan shows up in Job 41, and though Moby Dick is one of my favorite books, this is no “white whale.” God describes a creature that laughs at iron weapons, breathes fire, and makes the depths boil like a pot. I’ve always found it odd that some scholars try to identify this as a crocodile. Have you ever seen a crocodile make water boil? I didn’t think so.
New Testament, New Dragon
In Revelation, we meet a different kind of dragon altogether. The Greek “drakon” appears multiple times, most notably as that “ancient serpent” who is Satan himself. This connection between dragons and serpents runs deep through Scripture, starting with Eden’s crafty snake.
Speaking of serpents, the Hebrew “nachash” presents an interesting linguistic puzzle. It’s the same word used for Moses’ bronze serpent in Numbers 21 and the Eden tempter in Genesis 3. But here’s what catches my attention: “nachash” can also mean “to practice divination” or “to observe signs.” Some have taken that to imply an ancient connection between serpents and supernatural knowledge.
Scholars will point out that the Egyptians used the cobra symbol in their royal crowns—the uraeus—as a sign of divine authority. The Bible turns this on its head. Instead of representing divine power, the serpent here symbolizes rebellion against divine authority.
The Leviathan appears again in Psalm 74:14, where God breaks its heads (plural!) and gives it as food to creatures in the wilderness. Multiple heads? Now, we’re getting into serious monster territory. Isaiah 27:1 calls it the “twisted serpent,” using language that echoes ancient Near Eastern myths about chaos monsters.
These varied descriptions point to something deeper than just scary creatures. They’re metaphors for chaos, evil, and the powers that oppose God’s order. But they’re also reminders that God maintains control over even the most fearsome forces in creation.
Let’s get back to Job. When God describes the Leviathan, He’s not just giving us a lesson in marine biology. He’s making a point about His sovereignty over everything—even the most terrifying creatures imaginable.
Monday Morning Monsters
I find it fascinating how these images still resonate today. We might not worry about literal sea monsters anymore (though sharks are still a perennial favorite for filmmakers!). However, we still use dragon and serpent imagery to represent our fears and challenges. The Bible’s use of these creatures speaks to something deep in human experience.
These ancient images still speak to us because they tap into something universal. When I read about God subduing the Leviathan, I think about how He helps us face our monsters—whether they’re external challenges or internal demons.
The biblical writers weren’t just telling tall tales. They used these powerful creatures as teaching tools, showing God’s complete sovereignty over everything that frightens us. When Isaiah prophesies about God punishing the Leviathan (Isaiah 27:1), he’s pointing to God’s ultimate victory over evil. When Job hears about these terrifying beasts, he’s learning about his own place in God’s creation.
I’ve often wondered why modern Christians sometimes shy away from these more dramatic portions of Scripture. Perhaps we’re too sophisticated for talk of dragons and sea monsters. But I think we lose something vital when we dismiss these passages as mere mythology or try to explain them away as misidentified natural creatures.
These texts remind us that our God is bigger than our imagination. He’s not just the God of peaceful gardens and gentle lambs—though He is certainly that. He’s also the God who controls the storm, who breaks the heads of sea monsters, and who makes even dragons tremble.
Think about this: In many of our myths, the heroes had to prove themselves by slaying dragons. But in Scripture, God has already conquered these forces of chaos. And the battle isn’t between equal powers—it’s between the Creator and His rebellious creatures. That crucial difference sets biblical literature apart from its contemporary mythologies.