A homily preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields for In Every Corner Sing on 27 January 2025 by Jolley Gosnold
Reading for address: To a Mouse by Robert Burns
One of Burns’ most well-known works, To a Mouse, begins with a moment of startling simplicity: a farmer overturns a mouse’s nest with his plough. But in that small, tender moment, Burns reveals something far greater—a truth about how we live and how we are called to live.
The poem begins with sorrow for what has been lost:
“I’m truly sorry man’s dominion
Has broken nature’s social union.”
Burns captures the imbalance humanity has introduced into creation. The plough—an instrument of survival—has become, unwittingly, an instrument of harm. This imagery invites us to reflect on our role within God’s creation. We were entrusted not with domination, but with care—a responsibility to live in harmony with the earth, not at its expense.
In this “tim’rous beastie,” Burns sees a fellow creature, a “companion” in the shared experience of mortality. It’s a reminder that we are all woven into the same divine tapestry, all fragile, all dependent on God’s sustaining hand. As we look at the vulnerability of creation—whether in the mouse’s ruined nest or the fragility of ecosystems today—we are called to a deeper sense of humility, care, and accountability.
But Burns doesn’t stop there. He speaks of plans gone wrong:
“The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley.”
How often do we find ourselves in this same predicament? We plan, we strive, and yet life remains unpredictable. It can be disheartening when even our best intentions falter, but here, too, is a spiritual truth. Our lives are not measured by the success of our plans but by the grace with which we navigate the unexpected. In these moments, we are reminded to trust not in our own control but in God’s providence—a God who promises to guide us through both certainty and chaos.
Finally, Burns contrasts the mouse, living fully in the present, with the human condition—tethered to regrets of the past and anxieties about the future:
“Still thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee.”
What a profound reflection on the spiritual life! Jesus himself calls us to this present trust: “Do not worry about tomorrow.” Yet how often do we carry the weight of yesterday’s failures or tomorrow’s uncertainties? The mouse reminds us to seek simplicity, to lean into the moment, and to place our trust in a God who holds all time and space.
In To a Mouse, Robert Burns gently but powerfully invites us to consider what it means to live as God’s people: caretakers of creation, companions to one another, and humble participants in the great mystery of life. His words challenge us to see beyond the surface—to discover God in the broken nests and uncertain plans, in the beauty of the world and the vulnerability of all living things.
And perhaps most importantly, Burns reminds us that God’s love is woven into every corner of creation, even the smallest and most overlooked. In recognizing this, we are called to respond—with humility, with compassion, and with a trust that God is always present, even in life’s most unexpected turns.
