Stepping Over the Lines: Labyrinths, A Samaritan, and Us
Meditation mazes, also called prayer labyrinths like the one on the back of our bulletin, are in evidence from preliterate times across the world. They are not puzzles or tricks or games, they are a toy in the toolbox of prayer. A tool of bodily reflection, and exploring changes in our relationships, and deepest purpose. Walking a labyrinth is a micro journey, a concentrated trek without fear or violence, or exuberance. Shedding on the way in, centering ourselves in the heart of Christ in the center, and then rising as we make our way out. Yet, unlike life’s passages, it has few moral quandaries. Lose track of where you are, just choose a way to go. Stepping over a line does no damage at all.
Our parable today is a more multi-dimensional prayer journey. A mediation of self-examination. It begins with a critical ethical question, it is rife with danger and failure and surprise. A parable is a story of many layers, the deeper being the more important, But it is a story. A chance to exercise the thoughts and feelings of life without the consequences of real life. Anciently this text was known from its middle sentence, as the person who fell among bandits. And it begins, like so many complications and duties, it begins in a question about love.
The ground of the story is using real geography which is also a strong metaphor. These people are traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho they are going downhill – they are going down a steep switchback road,to less and less desirable places for the privileged. You may have heard it said that the reasons why the priest and the Levite do not stop and help this man who’s nearly dead are due to purity rules. This just isn’t so, and is sprinkled with antisemitism. Yes purity rules existed, but this priest is going away from the Temple Mount down to a completely other place. His priestly cleanliness does not matter because he’s going away from his duties. For the Levite – purity rules about touching a possible corpse, don’t really apply to him. Now he may have wanted such rules to apply to him to give him an excuse to keep his distance from anothers crisis and grief and otherness but those laws, didn’t apply to this person. These two people choose not to stop for the same reasons you and I have chosen to turn our head away from the terror and the demands and the pain of others. Period.
We also might miss that Jesus is using a classic ancient story setup approach. Rather like a priest, a rabbi, and a Unitarian go into a bar jokes. In his ancient audience it is usually the priest and the Levite and the Israelite, and the Israelite is always the hero. But here instead of the third, the hero, being the fairy godmother, you get the perceived evil stepmother. Samaritans descend from Abraham through Joseph, and modern Samaritan people are closer genetically to Jewish people than they are to any other population in West Asia. And like a lot of splintering identities while they may come from the same base, and they may both believe they are right, they have fierce ideas that they prioritize as divinely given. In this three-character narrative, the hero is whoever occupies your fill-in-the-blank of really close to you, but you don’t like them, and they probably don’t like you.
So who is the Christ figure here? It is not the Samaritan: they are the good evil stepmother. The Christ figure in this parable is the person who fell among bandits. Beaten and left for dead, he was despised and rejected acquainted with agony. He needed someone to pity him but there was no one. The parable holds in it a mirror, a mirror to what we actually love, and who and how we do not.
This sacred, strange and difficult story of the person who fell among bandits it is a judgement, it is a truth, however, we can turn toward him, and each other. Recovery is possible. The labyrinth twists and finishes. The difficulty of the now is not the always, the tomb was closed, and then it was empty. The terrible ‘them’ gave all to care for the nearly dead ‘us’. We should hear in this parable that God does not traffic in our divisions and shortcuts. Nor does God leave us wandering in dangerous valleys – God is with us there – here. The Spirit is pushing us to duties of mercy and fidelity even in our differences. We are taking the steps on a road that is strange and difficult. In the love of Jesus, we can keep going with him.
If you haven’t tried the low-text prayer practice of a labyrinth, find one and try it. The closest is a lovely one on the grounds of Swarthmore Presbyterian. Or you can trace your finger on the one on the bulletin (or download and print one). Journey beyond words: where are you in this parable today? What do we need to shed? Where is your center? How do we rise with dignity for all – and still rise together?
Today Jesus shows us in a story how to do what is right and good and holy when we are dealing with labyrinths of moral quandaries complicated fearsome divisions and lack of heart. Mercy is the hero, loving-kindness is the call. Which neighbor, all the neighbors. Which treacherous moment, this one. Jesus says to his questioner and to all: now go, give from what God has given you and do likewise.