The Missionary and the Snake

          James Harner sharpened his seven inch hunting knife. It had been six months since he had arrived at the village of Kapi, approachable by river through the Amazon rainforest, east of the Andes, where he had come to attempt to establish a church among the Kapi people. His attempts were unsuccessful. The native religion resisted, and his presence was resented.

          In fact, his church had only five attendees, Magda being the most devout. She was the black sheep of her tribe, even opposed by her four sisters. Within three days she had already warmed to the gospel, and had since become his second-hand woman. Her enthusiasm alone would be enough to save many of the tribesmen if it weren’t for one thing--the snake.

          Oh the snake, that damnable snake! About fifteen years earlier, a neighboring tribe had made a peace offering to the Kapi people of a thirty foot anaconda. It was carried in by seven strong men. The Kapi prince delighted in this snake, believing it could guide his rule. He was only twelve at the time. He did not live to see thirteen.

          The snake crushed him in his sleep, swallowing him whole. The entire tribe mourned in amazement, until the village priest exclaimed that, as their religion proclaimed, the eater becomes the eaten, for the soul of the eaten atones with the eater: when the sacred anaconda eats a man, that man lives immortally within that god. The prince had now assumed the form of a serpent, to lead his people forever, speaking in a language the priest alone could interpret.

          Since then, many young children, especially the sick and cursed, were offered to the prince to be made likewise immortal. The anaconda had eaten eleven children in addition to the prince.

          James had been trained for this. He knew of tribal superstitions, and he knew that the gospel message was strong enough to defeat any deception. The deficiency was his own. He had not appealed to the people. He was a man of action, not eloquent with his words. He preferred building churches to preaching in them. Yet he had a mission, and he would finish it.

          He would--even if the village was the most stubborn case he had ever heard of. The sacrifice of children had to be stopped. It was precisely this point which made him so unpopular; his emphatic denouncements had cost him the trust and respect of the tribe leaders. The women feared him. The children taunted him.

          He sheathed his knife and put some logs on the fire. Then he walked out from his hut and headed towards the serpent’s lair. It was nearing midnight, and the pit had been left unguarded.

          There wasn't a stir within the pit. He held his torch to look inside, and saw the snake upon its alter, coiled and staring, blinkless, with the solemn regard of cold intelligence behind the torchlight in its eyes.

          James leapt into the pit. Still the snake failed to stir. He approached it boldly, unsheathed his knife, and vee'd his hand to grab its neck.

          It bolted its fangs into his left hand, throwing a coil around his arm. He dropped the torch, and the pit fell dark. He stabbed at the snake and cut a bloody hole into its sickly slick body. At this the snake spasmed, and the knife fell from his hand. The snake threw a second coil around James’s chest.

          And squeezed. James wheezed for breath, falling flat and jerking to kick himself free. The snake would not relent. He rolled over and grabbed blindly for the knife. The snake threw a coil around his legs.

          Finally, he saw from winced eyes the reflection of the dying torch upon the knife’s silver blade. He grabbed the handle, threw his arm skyward, and with the force of fury inspired by the grace of heaven and fortified by the rage of hell, swung the blade into its cold loveless neck.

          The snake spasmed again, but quit its grip. James pressed the blade deeper into the neck, pivoting it around like a paring knife through an apple. His hands sopped with blood. At last the snake’s head fell clear off. The serpent had been crushed.

          James gasped for twenty minutes. At last he stumbled to his feet, cleaned his knife on his shirt, and sheathed the blade. He hefted the snake, coil by coil, and wrapped it over his strong broad shoulders, so its coils twined round his outspread arms. With strength made superhuman by his fight with the beast, he pulled himself from out the pit.

          After dragging the corpse to his hut, he exposed his blade again and crudely cleaned its flesh. For the next two hours he prepared the meat, cooked it up, and ate. What he couldn’t eat, he burned. By morning nothing was left of the snake but scales, bone, and ash.

          The shriek sounded at dawn when the keeper of the snake discovered the blood and severed head. The entire town arose. They sent for the priest.

          The priest immediately accused the missionary, and the village gathered like murder at his door. They shouted for his blood.

          James praised God in his heart as he walked out to face the crowd. Magda pushed through the crowd and meekly stood at his left side. James spit a fragment of snake rib from his mouth, and panning the crowd with the placid detachment of an anthropologist’s camera, exclaimed to the crowd:

          “See, I have devoured your snake, and so now the soul of the serpent is within me, as the prince was within it. To me you must now listen, and not to your priest. No longer can your priest interpret the words of your snake, for I have devoured the soul of your serpent, and I therefore have become your new priest.

          “I have come to teach you the glory of God, made manifest in the person of Jesus Christ his Son. He came to destroy the wicked serpent who bruised his heal, but Jesus crushed its head.

          “Jesus came that your sins might be forgiven, that you would not bow down before false idols and pay homage to false priests. Listen to me, your true priest.

          “Magda will now distribute the bread I have prepared. This bread represents the flesh of Christ, and this drink his blood. Consume it now, as a group together, and become with me as Christ.”