Because handling a snake is taking the easy way out

There's a rather obscure American church you may have heard about, where members pick up and handle deadly snakes as part of their routine services. You know, you've got your Fender guitar amps, your pulpit and PA, and then, a whole pile of poisonous snakes.

Generally associated with the primarily rural (and Southern) Church of God, this church embraces a rather literal take on a couple of the final verses in Mark 16.

^17-18"These are some of the signs that will accompany believers: They will throw out demons in my name, they will speak in new tongues, they will take snakes in their hands, they will drink poison and not be hurt, they will lay hands on the sick and make them well."

Now, to get technical for a moment, verses 9-20 of Mark 16 (the last chapter of that particular book) are generally excluded from "The Bible" because those verses did not appear in some of the more important early manuscripts, and because of their "different style and vocabulary," also raises doubts.

This pentecostal sect takes this verse literally, and so believes that if they've been anointed by God, then they will not be killed when bitten by the snakes, and they claim to celebrate this miracle during their services.  Besides the obvious, it's clear why snake-handling is not a mainstream practice:  it' s a generally held interpretation that in this reference, Jesus was speaking specifically to his remaining 11 disciples, not necessarily everyone who believes in him.

I will admit that there is a part of me that had the courage these snake handlers do, believing that God would protect me from a very real, very specific and very immediate harm.

But the more I think about it, the more it seems to me that these snake handlers are taking the easy way out. Sure, it's dangerous picking up a snake, and it is a demonstration of their faith (albeit misguided), but what do they do the rest of the time? Personally, I  think there's more courage involved in a daily, humble faith that grows deep with routine reflection and fruitful acts of obedience. Faith is not about engaging in a public spectacle like the snake handlers: faith is deeply private and personal, and God alone knows us in our stillness.

So back away from the snakes.