Them that Believe: The Power and Meaning of the Christian Serpent-Handling Tradition (review)

"There is death in these boxes," the preacher at a serpent-handling church reminds his congregation. Spontaneous singing begins, accompanied by guitar, tambourine, and hand clapping. A man feels the anointing of God, inspiring him to open a serpent box and pick up a rattlesnake. He holds the snake aloft, then passes it to a woman. Sometimes a snake will bite, in which case medical attention will probably be eschewed in favor of the will of God. Sometimes believers drink strychnine, too.

To most readers, this will be an unfamiliar scene, and they will need some persuading before they think it sounds like a good idea. Authors Hood and Williamson earnestly take on this task. These two psychologists have studied serpent-handling sects for fifteen years. They describe themselves as participant-observers, with the caveat that they have never handled snakes.

In the King James version of the Bible, Mark 16: 17-18 asserts, "And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not harm them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." The authors explain that some Pentecostals were disturbed that only three of these five signs were being practiced. They broke off into factions that handled serpents and drank the "deadly thing," also known as poison.

After discussing the history of the church, other chapters deal with glossolalia, the symbolic meanings of snakes, the trancelike experience of being anointed by God, experiences handling snakes, music used in the services, and laws relating to handling. The oral history portion of the book is mostly contained within only four of the twelve chapters, but the authors give the interview process a lot of attention. A whole section in the appendix discusses their methodology and means of interpretation. The interviews are anonymized, which might look strange to oral historians. But considering that the narrators are engaging in a practice which is illegal in most states, anonymity is understandable. The excellent photographs of handlers are also anonymous.

The most commonly handled snakes are rattlesnakes, copperheads, and water moccasins. The authors describe the hierarchy of danger among these snakes and the unpredictability of bites due to different striking behaviors and stores of venom. It turns out that the copperhead is almost never lethal, the western diamondback is the most aggressive commonly used rattler, and about 50 percent of cottonmouth bites result in maiming.

The oral history excerpts focus on extemporaneous sermons, the experience of handling snakes, the anointing, and near-death experiences due to snake bites. Says one narrator: "He was giving me victory over those copperheads. I mean, there were legions of devils right there in my arms, and the Lord was giving me victory and the power over them . . .. When the Lord moves and you have a serpent, it's just like a baby. It's just like a dishrag. It can't do nothing. When God's got control, it's helpless" (152).

Throughout most of the book, I believed the two psychologists were bending over backward to be nonjudgmental. But in the last two chapters, they clearly have an agenda: to improve the image of serpent handlers, repeal laws against serpent handling, and to ensure that this tradition lives on. They make the point that if people are allowed to risk their lives rock climbing and playing football, they should be allowed to risk their lives practicing religion. They also acknowledge that while all religions have a dark side, they are not focusing on it because serpent handlers have been unfairly portrayed by scholars and in the media. So is the solution to present only the positive side and ignore some obvious questions readers might have? For example, I found myself...