
1. K tells the prison chaplain he feels like he can trust him, because he is friendlier than the other members of the Court.
[Note that since the prison chaplain has told K. that "the proceedings gradually merge with the judgment" his being prison chaplain kind of makes him sound like master of the entire universe that K is in, or at least that part of what runs the world that seeks to comfort and reconcile with righteousness its prisoner K.]
2. The chaplain says to K, not so fast, then tells K the story "Before the Law." Making that story an explanation of why you should not assume that the prison chaplain is trustworthy just because he seems friendly.
[Note that the prison chaplain shouts just like the doorkeeper, and actually before him in the novel - where the doorkeeper shouts that the door was always only for the Law-seeking man, the chaplain shouts "can't you see two steps ahead of you." Possibly relevant: the doorkeeper does not dare stare at the third doorkeeper on (from him, thus fourth from the man, or third from the man?). The problem here is the inability to get a larger perspective. If you could see where you might be able go, you'd know whether to go there - how hard to fight to go there. But you just don't.)]
3. K says, so the doorkeeper did deceive the man, i.e. the friendly-seeming member of the Court is just a liar. The chaplain and K discuss various intepretations of the character of the doorkeeper.
[Note that the situation of K, sought out by a strange group that is deciding whether he deserves to be destroyed, seems quite startlingly different from that of the man who seeks entrance to the Law. It's true K does try to seek out the Court and its officials, once accused, so as to defend himself - and that anyone seeking something called the Law presumably wants to get its power on his side by convincing it he is just or should be treated as just. But if we're on trial simply because we're alive, and a guilty judgment - the taking away of what we are, culminating in our death - seems inevitable, in a sense seeking the Law is the same operation as the Law seeking us. Both of us are interested in whether we are something more than what we seem.]
This is the part that always confuses me, what the chaplain is arguing. He seems mostly out to confuse K, passing from interpretation to contrary interpretation of Kafka's own, long-published "Before the Law" - in a sort of dead-serious parody of rabbinical exegesis, judicial analysis of previous decisions, and literary close reading. I think it's these questions that are being raised:
What would the rationale be behind a world that seems designed to keep us away from what is somehow nevertheless ours? Would it be out to deceive us, or just a dim-witted employee of something beyond it that is, or somehow there to serve us in this incomprehensible process? Is it evil or stupid, or are we stupid or evil to not win through? And was someone else trying to find out whether we would? Or is this for us alone to find out? Who created these expectations? What did we expect of the Law to begin with? Who told us there was one?
A strange meeting of what a god would expect of its creations, its creations expect of a god. We want to know if it is the thing we need it to be and vice versa. And we're all apparently quite disappointed. Perhaps the heavens want a crow to destroy them.
Should we interpret this as matter versus consciousness? Matter wishing for consciousness to suffuse it, give it purpose, be the force that moves it all as one - consciousness wishing the same, to be reconciled with matter, given endurance and effectiveness by it - both wishing that the other had the missing ingredient to make this possible, rather than our meeting's being a mere brief, disappointing fizzle.