Back in November I published a short reflection on the passage from the end of Matthew’s gospel commonly referred to as the parable of the sheep and the goats. Fresh back from Pakistan I found myself reading the well-known passage through a different cultural lens. Like trying on new spectacles, the reading wasn’t clear, but it was different from my usual seeing. This month I have continued to find my reading of Scripture challenged, particularly in where I place myself and where the congregations that I have been a part of in the past have wanted to place me and themselves.
This post also marks one year since I started this particular strand of my blog. I began by reflecting on my performance of the story in John’s gospel of the encounter between Jesus and the woman at the well. Since then, I have ‘done a Ned’ on a few occasions at the Cathedral. I want to briefly outline how my process of producing such presentations connects with my reflections on trying to read the Scriptures interculturally. I will take just one example, from a service to mark the week of prayer for Christian unity.
This year’s liturgical material for the week of prayer for Christian unity was provided by Christians in Burkina Faso. They encouraged us to reflect on the parable, known by most of us as ‘the good Samaritan’. I was asked to ‘perform’ the story as part of our service and then to lead a short reflection. Most of the time my biblical presentations are done solo with me taking on all the parts. This means that I have to be clear as to where to situate different characters and defining them in body and voice. This particular story, which included the introduction between Jesus and the lawyer, potentially contains six characters (or seven if you include the inn-keeper).
My first decision, as always, is where to locate the congregation; the question is, “who are the congregation in this story?” This is an interesting question and cuts to the heart of my intercultural reading of Scripture. In the ‘famous’ biblical stories we often assume the same positions and places to ensure we learn the right lesson from them. In the opening exchange of this story, between Jesus and the lawyer, I wanted to situate the lawyer amongst the congregation so that it felt as though he was coming from amongst them, not so that they identified with him but that they experienced something of the crowd listening into the conversation between this man and Jesus. I placed Jesus behind the lectern which had been used by the leaders of the service up to this point.
After the exchange I chose to have Jesus move the lectern as though he himself was performing the parable for the lawyer. The next question, like the first was, “where do I place the congregation during the parable?” Bradford Cathedral is a building of two halves: one, the older part, sits at the west end and takes in the nave and aisle, the other, newer part runs from the chancel through to the east window. The architect of the 1960’s renovations and developments, Edward Maufe, delineates between these two parts. The west end can represent the ‘secular’, shared, communal space and the east end is the ‘sacred’, holy site of worship and praise. All the chapels are found in this east end whereas the west end contains the kitchen, shop, offices, etc. I decided, therefore, to use this demarcation to establish the road from Jerusalem to Jericho to run from east (Jerusalem) to west (Jericho). This ran down the central aisle between the congregation.
For those who do not know the famous story it goes as follows: a man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers who beat him and left him for dead. A priest was also going down the road, saw the man and passed by on the other side. Then a Levite, who also travelled down the road, saw the man and passed by on the other side. Finally a Samaritan was also walking down the road but he came near to him and tended his wounds, put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn, paid for bed and board and said to the inn-keeper that he would return and pay for anything that is spent on looking after the man. Jesus then asks, “Which of these three was a neighbour to the man.” To which the lawyer replies, “The one who should him mercy.”
This is interesting because the whole story is Jesus’ answer to a question from the lawyer in the introduction. Having clearly stated that one of the great commandments of God is ‘to love your neighbour as yourself’, the lawyer asks,
“But who is my neighbour?”
In the usual reading of the story, told and explained in Sunday schools and assemblies through the generations and across the UK (at least), the teaching is that we should be kind to others like the Samaritan. That we should ‘do likewise’. Sure, that’s great and we should but that is not the question. The question is: who is the neighbour that I am to love? The parable answers the question by identifying the Samaritan as the neighbour and, therefore, the one we should love. We should love, logic dictates, the one who showed us mercy not, as we are taught, the poor man who is left disfigured, alone and near death.
Like the parable of the sheep and the goats we are taught from a young age, in an attempt of simplifying this teaching, like some moralistic fable, to be the person with agency and power in the story. We are enculturated to identify with the Samaritan or, if we want to really challenge ourselves, the priest and Levite. I have never been asked, nor have I ever asked of myself, to identify with the man who falls into the hands of robbers. So, in order to drive this point home, I began by emphasising the word ‘neighbour’ in the lawyers question (you’ll see why later).
Then, having presented the road running through the congregation with the congregation facing ‘Jerusalem’, I presented the priest and Levite travelling east towards Jerusalem (with the congregation). The man falls in with robbers and I indicated that he fell across the ‘road’ in a sweeping gesture that began at the floor but finished taking in the congregation. The priest and Levite then ‘pass him by’. I chose to characterise the priest as someone who clearly was fraught and anxious. This sense of feeling the burden of pastoral ministry and legitimising the need to care for himself before he could show care for others (I little soap box I get onto whenever someone twists this commandment to say that it means we must first love ourselves before we can love others.) The priest stepped over the man, looked back with guilt and concern but decides to move on. The Levite I chose to present as someone who did the bare minimum and, having stepped over the man, took a selfie with him and then (speaking a few extra, added words to Scripture) typed, “thoughts and prayers” before moving on.
Then came the Samaritan. As he was travelling towards the congregation I made sure that each of his many actions (saw him, had compassion on him, came to him, bound his wounds, poured on oil and wine, set him on the donkey, brought him to an inn, took care of him…) were performed at the congregation as though they were receiving these acts. When the final ‘punchline’ is given I merely had to emphasise the word ‘neighbour’ and indicate where the lawyer was standing to make the link. The lawyers embarrassing response (“the one who showed him mercy”) was, therefore, performed standing amongst the congregation towards the front where the Samaritan had just performed his acts of kindness towards them.
Of course, to really explore this cultural twist, I needed to unpack it in my reflection. When considering what else needed to be said I then took out the material prepared by our brothers and sisters in Burkina Faso.
The reflections encourage us to consider the perspective not only of the one who showed mercy, but also of those who passed by. Many of us will have been unaware of the threat faced by communities in Burkina Faso before reading this material. It is a powerful reminder of the many neglected conflicts that continue to destroy lives and devastate communities around the world, when only a limited number can capture, and fewer still can hold, the attention of the world’s media. The Church is called to be an advocate for those caught in these forgotten conflicts, and to amplify the voices of those who feel forsaken.
Churches Together in England, ‘Go and Do Likewise’, the English pamphlet, Resources for Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2024, https://ctbi.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/WPCU-2024-English-pamphlet-Final.pdf, p.2-3
They were asking us to identify with those who passed by whilst they situated themselves as people who feel passed by, i.e. the man who fell into the hands of robbers. Their request is right and worthwhile but what, I asked myself, would it be like if we placed ourselves in their shoes and tried to imagine what it feels like to fall into the hands of robbers and be reliant on the mercy of ‘strangers’? In addition to this, the deliberate identification with the man who fell into the hands of robbers forces us to feel the lack of agency felt by so many who rely upon our ‘mercy’ and charity. In that experience we are opened, I suggested, to receiving from our brothers and sisters to whom we feel it is our duty to ‘care for’ and look after, like the white saviours we still sometimes try to be.
If I were to perform this story again, however, I think I would not perform any of the other characters apart from the man beaten and left for dead. I would tell the story on the floor indicating the other characters passing by and the Samaritan in front of me. This would have given the direct punch that I felt was needed to rupture our established reading of this particular story… you live and learn!