A few years ago the Somali-born rapper and poet K’Naan [1], who I became familiar with when he worked with Keane, one of my favorite bands, released an album called “The Dusty Foot Philosopher,” a metaphor that I see as rather fitting for my own work and my own larger concerns as a thinker and writer. Late last night, I started writing a blog entry dealing with a subject of particular delicacy involving premarital sex and shotgun weddings, and in writing the post I thought both that what I wrote may cause a great deal of unwanted and unnecessary offense to others while also painting myself in a rather unfriendly light, and so even though the entry was almost finished, I left it unpublished because I thought it would cause more harm than good.

What do these things have to do with each other? K’Naan called himself a dusty foot philosopher because he considered himself the sort of person whose philosophy came through the experience of life and whose observations were based on his own observations and reflections. The same could easily be said of me, although I try to learn from the mistakes of others to make it necessary to make every mistake on my own, as I make enough of them already through my own stubbornness and folly, and, more sympathetically, my longings. Because the roads of Somalia are not often good, being a philosopher in such an area means that one has dusty feet from the dirt roads, rather than keeping clean in the ivory towers were philosophizing is better known here in the West. I myself came from a very humble and modest background myself, and I have certainly not forgotten my own roots or the dirt roads of my own childhood and of the dirt on my feet from my own background and life experience, such as it has been.

When one walks around this world and observes and becomes involved in the people and situations that are around, one gets one’s feet dirty. Though we might want to keep ourselves entirely clean and unspotted from the world, most of us are hopefully honest enough to admit that we all have weaknesses and mistakes and flaws and sometimes our lives can be pretty dramatically affected by what appear (to us) to be fairly minor shortcomings that simply get completely and totally out of control beyond our worst nightmares. Having had that happen to me, I am certainly very sympathetic, and my own life, as dramatic as it has been, has not been nearly as dramatic of that of the young Somali poet whose childhood in warlord-torn Somalia led him to escape as a refugee to Canada and seek a better life there, which he has found, thankfully, even if he has kept his feet on the ground, so to speak.

It should not be of any surprise that the Bible itself speaks of us as dusty feet philosophers, in a fashion, in at least two locations. The most notable occasion is in the Gospels referring to the footwashing ceremony that Christians are called to participate in in the Passover as a sign of humility. The second occasion is slightly less well-known and is worth discussing here, as it contains a notable theological point that we ought to consider here briefly, even if the passage is worthy of a more lengthy commentary on its own. We find this passage in Luke 7:36-50: “Then one of the Pharisees asked Him to eat with him. And He went to the Pharisee’s house, and sat down to eat. And behold, a woman in the city who was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at the table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of fragrant oil, and stood at His feet behind Him weeping; and she began to wash His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head; and she kissed His feet and anointed them with the fragrant oil. Now when the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he spoke to himself, saying, “This Man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what manner of woman this is who is touching Him, for she is a sinner.” And Jesus answered and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” So he said, “Teacher, say it.” “There was a certain creditor who had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing with which to repay, he freely forgave them both. Tell Me, therefore, which of them will love him more?” Simon answered and said, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.” And He said to him, “You have rightly judged.” Then He turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has washed My feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head. You gave Me no kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss My feet since the time I came in. You did not anoint My head with oil, but this woman has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.” Then He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” And those who sat at the table with Him began to say to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Then He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.””

Even Jesus Christ Himself, who lived without sin, could be called a dusty foot philosopher. After all, he too walked dirty roads and remained involved with others, even as others continually sought to entrap Him with word games and embarrass Him because of his kindness to those who were looked down on by the self-righteous of his time. It seems striking that Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus Christ to his own house, but did not act in what would be termed a hospitable way, as it was a custom in those times for the lowest servant of the house to wash the feet of honored guests, and it was common in those times and places as well to greet friends with a kiss (as it is common many Mediterranean and Latin American countries to this day). And yet while the Pharisee did not act within the accepted norms for politeness and respect, a woman who was a sinner (and clearly a very repentant one) acted far above and beyond in her graciousness and politeness, and the response of Jesus Christ towards her repentant attitude was one of graciousness and mercy as well. We can learn a lot by being dusty foot philosophers, striving to maintain an attitude of love and graciousness and kindness towards those whom we meet in the course of our journeys.

[1] https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/wave-your-flag/