The Serpent

November 13, 2009

By David W. Argue

“Come see this, hon. It’s the biggest snake in the world.”

Jackie was sitting at her computer viewing a short clip that someone had sent her on Facebook.

I approached, bent over and peered into the screen. Hmm … a fat, smooth body on a very long ledge. Long, long, long … it looked like an anaconda. And the camera kept moving until it got to the head — beady eyes, retractable jaw — and suddenly the thing hissed loudly and lunged at the camera. No, it was lunging at ME.

I jumped back, literally, startled. My heart was racing.

“You’ve got to see it again,” Jackie said.

“OK,” I said, leaning forward again and telling myself that this time I’d remain calm. The image wasn’t real. I knew where the clip was going. Not to fear.

And, you guessed it, once again when that huge serpent lunged at the camera I leaped backwards, now thoroughly embarrassed at my instincts.

Instincts deeply ingrained by too many National Geographic specials.

Instincts deeply ingrained in me — by God.

Interesting …

It was that way in the first century. The apostle Paul, shaking off a serpent that had bitten him. Power given to believers to withstand the attacks of serpents. Go back even farther, and you find the snake in the first Garden with his bite translated into a forbidden fruit. That serpent has been at work throughout history, and the only cure is Christ, whose death and resurrection forever offer the “snake-bite” cure to all of us.

In today’s Internet culture, there’s a lot more than frightening serpents jumping off the screen. I remember the time I literally drew breath and jumped back — as though it was a snake I was facing — but this time it was venom on the screen. Unsolicited, sexually corrupting images intended to poison the moral purity of anyone who would linger and be mesmerized by its steady evil gaze. Any person, if not “jumping back,” would be wrapped up, coil by coil, until the breath of life would leave them.

The serpent’s final bite, if unremedied in Christ, always leads to eternal death.

So thank God if/when you jump back. Praise God for the racing heart when evil looms large in front of you. And get out of there. Turn it off, turn away, run.

Stay clear of the snakes. They’re under a lot of rocks along the pathways we travel.

With you in the racing-heart-and-jumping-back club.

— David W. Argue leads church development and HonorBound for the Rocky Mountain District Council.