The Jerusalem/Jericho Road
"A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers...."
Switchbacks, inclines, loose stone, scree. These are known by avid hikers, especially those who take the less-traveled routes. However, in the 1st century, these would have been part of even a casual traveler’s vocabulary, along with potential experiences with robbers and brigands, mainly because of roads such as the one that connected Jerusalem to Jericho.
The road is ancient, even by the standards of historic Palestine. It appears to predate the Hebrews. We know from the Older Testament that it was the road used by David when he was escaping from the mutinous Absalom in The Second Book of Samuel, chapter 15. It was also the route of King Zedekiah, the final king of Judah some 600 years later, in his unsuccessful flight from Nebuchadnezzar in The Second Book of Kings, chapter 25.
The remarkable feature of the road is that, over its 18 mile length, one travels up [in elevation] when traveling down [in direction], and down when traveling up.
This is because Jerusalem is roughly 2500 feet above sea level and Jericho is over 700 feet below sea level. The 3000+ feet of elevation, experienced over a relatively short distance, means that some areas of the road are at a 13 degree incline through a hairpin turn.
Since the terrain is rugged, it also means that the road winds dramatically with the climate changing with equal abruptness.
Not only is this daunting physical travel, but the geography lends itself to ambushes. That, combined with the striking feature of red rocks that punctuate the landscape, has earned the Jerusalem to Jericho Road its nickname of “The Way of Blood”. It was a road that would not be traveled at night and cautiously in the daytime.
Although the path itself had been somewhat smoothed by the Romans by the 1st century, even they could not lower Jerusalem nor raise Jericho, so the incline, elevation, and serpentine road still made for difficult travel. This is why, when Jesus renders the parable of The Good Samaritan in Luke 10, the story would have seemed a familiar one to his listeners:
A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.
It was a common tactic of villains to have someone pose as a victim of violence in order to distract the traveler and set upon them. Actually, that’s still a common tactic in parts of the world.
While the parable emphasizes the lack of empathy by the priest and the Levite, and highlights the compassion of the Samaritan, a member of a culture grossly disfavored by the Jews of the 1st century, it is the setting the enriches the dissociative nature of the parable.
We are in a place where vision is limited by the sheer walls of rock, and where to go down is to go up and to go up is to go down, where a non-Jew acts in a manner consistent with the Covenant, and Jewish leaders entrusted with care and authority fail to exercise it.
It is a place where the outcast illustrates the nature of Christian teaching.
[Today, one may stop at the Inn of the Good Samaritan, a caravanserai built by the Ottomans that is located at the imagined location of the inn of the parable.]
The road would be familiar in other portions of the Newer Testament, as well. Zacchaeus would be converted by Jesus while on this road [Luke 19], and it was here that Jesus healed Bartimaeus of his blindness [Mark 10:46-52, Matt 20:29-34]. Certainly, pilgrims making their way to Jerusalem for Passover would have been familiar with the road and its challenges.
While the Romans would use the road for the transportation of troops and supplies during the siege of Jerusalem in 69 A.D., the event that lead to the destruction of the Temple, the Jerusalem/Jericho road would continue to serve as a significant spiritual highway as, by the 7th century A.D., it would be one of the major routes to Mecca for Islamic pilgrims.
It would also be an area popular with the early Christian monks and mendicants who would set up hermitages for themselves in the crags and crevices of the valley walls.
There are still pilgrims who lose their way on the original road, and the Bedou still pitch tents and tether camels along its waysides. For as much as the world has changed in the past 2000 years, the Jerusalem/Jericho Road remains a route of inspiration even along its modern parallel roadway for autos and trucks.
You see, the Jericho road is a dangerous road. I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, “I can see why Jesus used this as the setting for his parable….”
That’s a dangerous road. In the days of Jesus it came to be known as the “Bloody Pass.”
But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?” That’s the question before you tonight. Not, “If I stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to my job. Not, “If I stop to help the sanitation workers what will happen to all of the hours that I usually spend in my office every day and every week as a pastor?” The question is not, “If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?” The question is, “If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?” That’s the question. Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness.
from The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I have Been to the Mountaintop” speech given in 1968, the night before his assassination.