That well-known phrase, ‘to see ourselves as others see us’ was originally a line from the Scottish poet Robbie Burns’ famous poem The Louse. The poet had observed the creepy-crawly making its way across a posh woman’s hat in church, and his musings leads to one of his most famous pieces. In The Louse, Burns ponders on social class, vanity and self-awareness to name just a few of its themes. Originally written in his own Scottish language, the last couple of lines sum up the satirical notion of how we might be if we had the power, granted by God, to see ourselves through the eyes of others. The entire last verse goes like this:

I’ve been pondering this a lot lately in relation to Christianity – do Christians know or care how the world sees them? Many will say probably not, because what matters is how God sees us and whether we are preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. This is so but often, instead, we impose our truth on the Gospel and assume God will fall into line accordingly. Then we choose to see being misrepresented or challenged as some kind of martyrdom for God’s truth. Sometimes it is; sometimes it isn’t.

I utterly agree that it is not our task to conform to the world, to latest fashions, to trends and so on. But neither is it our task to quietly fall into line, get on with our lives and cross over to the other side when we hear the message of Christ being, at best, misconstrued, or at worst, openly defamed. And this is what is happening too often. Sometimes the world feels more Christ-like, more receptive to the Spirit, than the church, and we need to pay attention to those times. We need sometimes to see ourselves as others see us.

I have been reminded of this a few times these last few weeks – how do we look to non-Christians. It matters; we have good news to share and yet frankly sometimes it sounds horrendous. This is not to blame most Christians quietly living out their faith in the best and most decent way they know how – indeed, they may be the solution. I’ll return to that.

As I write this blog on Wednesday morning, there is a Confirmation of Election service occurring at St Paul’s – a legal/worship occasion that sees Sarah, Bishop of London, become the first female Archbishop of Canterbury ever. Her consecration service will come in March. I am delighted, excited even – so too are many of us. And she has all our prayers. But some are noisily are objecting on the grounds that she is a woman, God forbid. Some, without any scholarly insight or research into context, are quoting Paul’s letter to Timothy saying women should not lead. A few – yes, usually on social media – tell me women priests are an absolute heresy and I personally am destined for hell. It doesn’t bother me; I don’t believe in hell .But that’s beside the point. How does this kind of vileness from Christians appear to others? How does the Good News of Jesus Christ sound to a world longing to hear it, but instead hearing only the viciousness and bile of those who impose their own issues on the Gospel and don’t just speak that distortion, but scream it? ‘Oh to see ourselves as others see us?’

For those who don’t know much about The Traitors – perhaps you have a life or no television – this is how it works. Twenty or so people are brought together in a beautiful castle in the Scottish Highlands. Three of them are selected as traitors and the rest become faithful. The faithful do not know who the traitors are. As the game progresses and the contestants complete trials to earn money for whoever wins, the faithful must work out who the traitors are and banish them. Meanwhile the task of the traitors is to secretly ‘murder’ the faithful or encourage their banishment. Last one standing wins. It’s enjoying huge success in the ratings and deservedly so. It has become a common talking point in the playground, the office and on line. A bit like in the old days when there were only three or four channels and everyone discussed what was happening in Corrie or Dallas! Everyone is interested!

Which brings me to the point and the programme’s deep relevance to this blog. The series finished last Friday, when two traitors shared the prize pot of £95,750. The episode was watched live by over 9 million viewers, and no doubt many more caught it later. In episode nine, the eight remaining contestants shared a formal dinner, ostensibly to give them a break, but also a chance to find out how they would spend the winners if they got through. It makes for a bit of a confessional, so often part of reality television. Personally I hate this bit – and often I feel vaguely embarrassed, but on this occasion I felt something else – ashamed.

Stephen, one of the most popular contestants in the castle and on the screen, told his story. He said this, ‘I come from a very rural community… for the longest time I kind of hated myself actually. Like I lost my teenage years…going to church, trying to pray myself normal, you know. And for the longest time I just have had, like, I’ve just really not liked who I am.’

For the longest time, I kind of hated myself. So many people watched that episode; so many will have been saying to themselves – assuming they had not already come to this decision – if this is what Christianity is, I want nothing to do with it. It sounds vile. To do that to a human being. And this conversation was aired round about the same time the media and social media was telling us the House of Bishops had chosen to stall progress on Living in Love and Faith. And this conversation was aired while Maga Nationalists were telling us that what God wanted was for America to be white and Christian, and those who opposed the forced eviction of immigrants who had committed no crime were domestic terrorists. And this conversation has been going on why a significant minority are appalled that we have a female archbishop.

We have a duty of care to each other and in the end if some of us are lost, we all are. I am my brother’s keeper. When kind, easy-going Stephen spoke of his attempts to ‘pray away the gay,’ that should have bothered every Christian watching. We should have been asking ourselves right then how are others hearing that? How do we repent and do better? How do we share the Good News of Christ anew? How do we challenge the idea that putting God in a box and making him act in the interests of our prejudices, our nation, our skin colour, is anything but the heresy it is?

There are so many good and faithful Christians working in their parishes who truly and quietly speak the Good News of Jesus through word and deed; through their worship, through their community engagement, through their unconditional welcome and care, and most of all perhaps, through their refusal to give in to the cynicism of a world that at the moment finds hate so much easier than love. We need to be louder. We have a Gospel to proclaim. So long as human beings are living and dying thinking God has rejected them, for whatever reason, the lovers have to be louder and more confident than the haters. It matters how we present ourselves and our faith and it matters how others distort it.