Jericho To Jerusalem

I know a place where the dancin's free …

"Jericho," Blitzen Trapper
"Jericho," Johnny Clegg & Savuka
"Jersey," Mayday Parade
"Jersey Girl," Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band
"Jersey Girl," Holly Cole
"Jersey Girl," Tom Waits
"Jerusalem Tomorrow," Emmylou Harris

Usually, we go with a longer list, but I found this particular alphabetical slice irresistible. And although this list may be shorter than usual, the trip from Jericho to Jerusalem is all uphill, so it works out the same.

The road between Jerusalem and Jericho is of course the setting for the story of the Good Samaritan (see Luke 10:25-37 or listen to Hank Williams and the Drifting Cowboys' rendition), which is a beautiful story that Jesus offered in response to the question "Who is my neighbor?" My old buddy Dwight loved to point out that the story, characteristically, doesn't really address that question at all. "And who is my neighbor?" the expert in the law asked. Jesus' answer, essentially, was "Be a neighbor."

The story also illustrates a lesser, but also important principle: The Rule of Threes. Man gets robbed and left for dead. A priest walks by without helping. Then a Levite walks by, same thing. Finally the Samaritan comes by and helps. The Rule of Threes. Ba-da-bing. Comedy is anapestic.

And comedy is probably the best analogy for how the original hearers of Jesus' parables would have heard them. "So this man is going down from Jerusalem to Jericho …" or "There's this shepherd …" are storytelling cues, but they're much closer to "A guy walks into a bar" than they are to "Once upon a time."

Somewhere near the midpoint of the 17-mile road from Jerusalem to Jericho there's a tourist trap called the Inn of the Good Samaritan. Israel's Ministry of Tourism provides an accurate description of the place:

A 19th-century Turkish building called the "Inn of the Good Samaritan" by Christians who like to try and picture the setting if Jesus had been telling a true story and not a parable. This caravanserai, that was until recently in the middle of nowhere, seemed to fit the bill.

It's not a caravanserai any more. It's a gift shop that does a brisk business selling olive wood tchatchkes to American Christians. Many of those customers, of course, don't quite get the distinction between "a true story and not a parable," and come to and away from the gift shop believing that it is the "real" Inn of the "real" Good Samaritan. Unpack what they mean there by "real" and you're on your way toward understanding what these folks mean by "literal."

Anyway, if you're ever following the Wadi Qelt through the West Bank, feel free to skip the Inn of the Good Samaritan but make sure you don't miss St. George's Monastery.