Burns' season is not yet upon us but there are a brief couple of lines from one of his poems that spring to mind after a couple of experiences I have had in this last wee while.
The poem is "To a Louse" and the last verse (much quoted) begins like this:
"O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!"
How do others see yourself, do you think? That is an incredibly difficult question to answer. While most of us don't have a spin doctor to help us to portray a particular image, we do still try to come across as nice, or as hard-working, as down to earth or of a certain social standing. We hope that others get the message. Whatever that message is we want them to get.
Twice over the Christmas period I was brought up short by how two different children on two different occasions saw me. Both asked me the same question: one that left me speechless (well, for a split-second). "Are you a boy or a girl?" I was asked.
In my defence, both times I was wearing church gear (a cassock and gown) but I have to say I assumed it was still pretty obvious to which genetic group I belong.
But it made me think.
What is obvious to me is not always obvious to everyone else.
What I think I am, others may not see in me at all.
The original idea behind ministers wearing gowns in Church was that there would be less attention focussed on the minister and more on God. The thinking was that wearing cover-all gowns, people would not get preoccupied with things that don't matter such as "is that the only suit he/she has?" and would instead find it easier to concentrate on the Almighty through the reading of the Scriptures, the preaching of the Word and prayer.
I am not sure I ever imagined that the historical theory would prove to be quite so accurate in the 21st century!
Burns' poem though was written, not while looking at a minister, although it was written in Church. Burns' wrote "To a Louse" whilst watching a creepy crawly picking its way over some finely dressed lady's hat as she sat in a pew near him. The louse was obviously more interesting than the sermon that day!
The poet passes judgement on the beastie suggesting it would be more at home on an old wife's flannel cap or on a ragged boy's vest than on this good lady's finery. But then he realises with a smile, that the louse is probably where it ought to be.
It's left up to the reader to catch his drift and to work out that sometimes some people are all show.
Does that go for ministers in gowns too I wonder? - Susan Brown.
