SNAKE-HANDLING ADVICE !
Vanderbilt Divinity School.—Class of ‘72 Dr. Gary Straub
I’ve always held snake-handling at a distance, while surrounded by stories of those who ventured a good bit closer!
Dr Herman Norton’s colleagues at Divinity School admired his snake—handling skills; especially during faculty meetings! Yet his reptile skills were not seminary-inspired. Norton had a 30 yr career as the Tennessee Army Reserves only Chaplain General—which provided plenty of bite & venom! During his PhD research in American Church History, he focused on visits to rural churches in East TN & KY to investigate sacred snake stories. His ‘happy hunting ground’ targeted pentecostal churches within striking distance of Nashville. He developed a 6th sense for the presence of churched reptiles. His hint: when folks slide pad-locked wooden boxes under their pews during the Prelude, buckle up! Norton’s sensitivity to sniffing snake shenanigans got honed while watching folks escort their rattlers to worship. One old, sleepy snake was not uncommon, but a 5-snake service inspired dancing, shouting and floor—rolling. His advice to newbie visitors: always sit nearest the back door!’
I found his advice oddly applicable during the covid kerfuffle. With America all cooped up, caged and quarantined— things got a bit wacky. Here in KY, we watched theological debates on mask VS unmasked escalate into hissing hysterics. My own interest in eschewing snakes began in rural PA, where snake-SHOOTING stories were all the rage.
Snake-HANDLING stories were unheard of till I graduated Vandy and moved to Chattanooga; which was within striking distance of the snake-handling epicenter of the Church of God in Cleveland, TN. Their Revs preached Mark 16:17/18 literally. Their interpretation turned all 5 ‘greater signs’ loose in church! In the late ‘70’s, stories still circulated around death-defying holiness worship. More than once, a Chattanooga Deputy Sheriff reported shooting an unrepentant copperhead at some tiny chapel in suburban Red Bank. Stories circulated about some sneaky snake-handler from Dunlop, TN who rattled everyone’s cage when he slipped over Signal Mtn to evangelize Chattanooga. He spread the snake-skin gospel to the far fringes of our fair city. His evangelistic ‘encroachment’ met a lawman’s .45 caliber. The upshot? Dead snake! Whenever a fair-minded citizen stood up for ‘snakes—rights’ they ended up jailed for conspiracy!
Beyond morbid curiosity, I never fully grasped the whole “holiness church” vibe. I respect their holiness aspirations and persistence in practice. I wondered: are snakes a cultural overlay from the frontier era? Sequestered lifestyles of intense isolation in the hills/hollers of Appalachia breeds needs for rare excitement. In early 1800’s, rural congregations gladly greeted itinerate Princeton clergy… until they started preaching their dry downloads of intellectual theology which snoozed crowds. Folks skedaddled to the totally free-will Baptists, semi-free Methodists and wildly free Pentecostals. Educated Up-East Revs considered brilliant, were baffled by their cool reception. Hmm… seems the home—grown Revs of local kinfolk got all the invitations to preach.
Later, the coal and lumber elite’s mistreatment of local labor built deep resentments, which found relief in a mix of moonshine & snake worship. With all doctrine/policy matters set solely by local church consensus; folks found the pentecostal style mighty comfy. A radical rejection of outside authority w/ rabid anti-intellectualism froze cultural norms. The Church of God (Cleveland) struck the right note: strict yet free. Fundamentalism thrived on preaching against evil enemies and found a target—rich environment in Appalachia. Preachers stirred simmering animosities during revivals. Pews of sincere, good hearted, hard-working locals had plenty to get aggrieved about. Holiness was an easy sell, and snakes served as excellent advance PR for circuit riding celebrities. Toxic levels of morbid curiosity packed in crowds to witness a preacher get bit! Cheering for the snakes? Sounds like a classic case of reptilian schadenfreude.
Admittedly, I’m attracted to the oddities of church history; so here are a few favorite ironies. In Spring of ‘40, two snake-handling Revs held services in Louisville, KY at Rev J.S. Guess’ parsonage at 832 E. Market St. Their subsequent retirement for refreshment to the Saloon Bldg @ 18th and Main. always struck me as an historical reenactment of St Paul’s apostolic snake-handling on the Isle of Malta. (Acts 28:1-6)
Then there’s the case of a TN legislator —Beasley of Carthage, who introduced a Jan ‘47 bill prohibiting unlawful persons to display, exhibit, handle, or use a poisonous snake in a manner to endanger human health. By TN law, violators paid $50-150 fines & 6 mos in jail. I always wondered: did Bro. Beasley pass the plate for bail money after revivals? Chattanooga local courts handled an ungodly share of snake-handling cases. Venomous responses were NOT strictly confined to snakes! Police agents would attend worship incognito to arrest any snake who might appear. Local headlines: “Police Conduct ‘Snake-Sting’ Operation!” Word got out those snake-handling Revs don’t make happy jailmates! They were frequently kicked out of the pokey for all night singing & shouting. Note: PTL Club did not invent sensational 24 hr programming.
Here’s a fun Louisville CJ headline: “Snake-Handlers: a Dying Breed?” Did you know snakes were washed before church? When snakes get ‘overhandled,’ they get rowdy before going belly up !One lawsuit required a certain “religious snake” confiscated & held as evidence. The judge remanded it to the custody of UofL. Nobody saw heads nor tails again! Many holiness revivals were BYOS—bring your own snakes. BTW: if healing didn’t happen at revival, you just needed more faith; so blame the victim for not believing enough and slap their lap w/ a snake! Rev. Oodie Shoupe vowed to take his reptile persecution case to the White House. At the last minute he decided not to bring his snakes, claiming “DC already had plenty!”
Myriad doctrinal debates divided Holiness camps. For instance: must snakes be handled before or after Holy Spirit Baptism? From all I can gather, churches split over splitting hairs thinner than that!
PS—Recently there’s been a bit of Southern Baptist bullgashicta about women no longer allowed to serve as Baptist Pastors. Holiness churches have honored women pastors since Moses sister Miriam. I’ve been itching to echo an epithet I overheard at the graveside on a salty, sainted Holiness Mountain Woman Preacher. Her deacons did witness: “She knew the Bible like she wrote it her own self!”
