Justice through the eyes of Robert Burns

Who is Robert Burns, and why does he still matter?

Robert Burns, often called Scotland’s national poet, lived a short but intense life as passionate and complicated as his poetry. But beyond the haggis and recitations, Burns was a man deeply concerned with justice across class divides rooted in a belief that every human life has worth. He wrote as and for ordinary people. For many Scots, Burns helped define what it means to be Scottish: plain-spoken, sceptical of power and a sense of national pride rooted not in power or empire. Poems like A Man’s a Man for A’ That offered a moral vision for Scotland, one where worth was not determined by wealth, title, or rank, but by character. 

Crucially, he wrote in Scots vernacular, preserving a language and identity that had long been dismissed as inferior. By doing this, Burns helped preserve the Scots language and affirmed the dignity of people who were often dismissed as unimportant or uneducated. That alone was an act of righting the wrong of enforced cultural uniformity.  

Burns offers a surprisingly honest mirror to ourselves. His life and work invite us to ask hard questions, not only about injustice in the world, but about our own contradictions as people trying to pursue justice in the way of Jesus

The World of Burns 

His father, William Burns, worked relentlessly to provide for his family and placed a strong emphasis on education and Christian faith. Yet, Burns had a complicated relationship with the Church.  

Burns fiercely criticised what he saw as religious hypocrisy. In poems like “Holy Willie’s Prayer,” he attacks the self-righteous, harsh hierarchy that used faith to control, shame, and exclude. Burns rejected a version of Christianity that reinforced hierarchy instead of compassion. His critiques of church hypocrisy forced Scottish Christianity to look at itself honestly. For Burns, true religion should deepen compassion, not reinforce power. Burns left Scotland a legacy of faith that questions rather than blindly obeys. 

Where Burns fell short

For all his high ideals, Burns was deeply human — and often failed to live up to his own words.

His poetry contains some of the most tender love songs ever written, yet his personal relationships were often messy and painful. He fathered at least twelve children with four women, five of them born outside marriage. Some of these relationships involved clear imbalances of power, particularly troubling when set against his lyrical declarations of love and equality.

His commitment to justice also faltered when it came at personal cost.

By the mid-1780s, his life was unravelling. His farm had failed, money was tight, and poetry did not pay the bills. After his father’s death, Burns was helping support his family. At the same time, he was being pushed to the edges of his community after Jean Armour, the woman who would later become his wife, became pregnant. Her father strongly opposed the relationship and even threatened legal action. With few options left, Burns seriously considered taking a job as a bookkeeper on a sugar plantation in Jamaica, work tied directly to an economy built on enslaved labour. He learned of the post through Patrick Douglas, a local doctor whose brother owned a plantation in Port Antonio. To raise the money for the journey, Burns published Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect in 1786. Its unexpected success changed everything. Instead of sailing for Jamaica, Burns travelled to Edinburgh, where the growing success of his poetry allowed him to abandon the plan altogether.

At the time, the Caribbean plantation economy was widely viewed by struggling Scots as a grim but viable escape from poverty. Burns did not ultimately own a plantation, but his willingness to participate in the system shows how economic desperation could entangle even equality-minded individuals in injustice.

Importantly, Burns wrote passionately about equality and even slavery. The Slave’s Lament mourns the suffering of enslaved people and hostility toward tyranny, which makes this episode especially uncomfortable. It highlights a central tension in his legacy: he could imagine universal human dignity while still contemplating personal benefit from an exploitative system.

The takeaway is not to excuse Burns, but to show how structural injustice pressures individuals, and how moral ideals are often tested hardest when survival is at stake.

Burns shows us that belief in justice and participation in injustice can coexist uncomfortably within the same person. His Christian belief in human dignity did not automatically protect him from being entangled in an unjust system.

In the 21st century, many of us benefit, often unknowingly, from systems that exploit labor or deepen inequality. Burns’s contradiction asks a hard question: What injustices do we tolerate when our comfort or survival is at stake?

Holding truth and grace together

Frederick Douglass, the formerly enslaved abolitionist, found deep inspiration in Burns. After escaping slavery, Douglass bought a copy of Burns’ poetry and later visited Burns’ birthplace in Alloway. He recognised in Burns a fellow challenger of oppressive systems, someone who spoke boldly against aristocracy and injustice.

Burns’ work has gone on to inspire movements for abolition, civil rights, and national identity across the world — even in places Burns never imagined.

So how do we hold together Burns’ failures and his impact?

Scholar Clark McGinn offers a helpful perspective. He reminds us that while we must be honest about Burns’ choices, few of us live perfectly consistent lives either. We benefit daily from systems we know cause harm. Whether through exploitative labour, environmental damage, or economic injustice, often because confronting them feels costly or inconvenient.

Grace does not excuse wrongdoing, but it allows us to learn without cancelling the good.

A Living Legacy

Burns died young, at just 37, on 21 July 1796 in Dumfries, likely from a heart condition worsened by years of physical labour and poor health. On the day of his death, his wife Jean Armour gave birth to their last child, Maxwell. Thousands attended his funeral, a testament to how widely he was loved even in his own lifetime.

Burns is not a figure locked in the past. Burns Suppers are held across Scotland and around the world every year. He is not merely remembered; he is woven into the nation’s fabric. More than two centuries on, Burns continues to shape how Scotland understands itself, its values, its voice, and its conscience.

His life reminds us that culture can shape justice. Words spoken with courage and honesty can ripple across generations. As Christians pursuing justice with compassion and dignity, we are invited into that same long story, planting seeds we may never see fully grown.

If one flawed poet could help awaken a global conscience, what might God do through us if we dared to try?

As we think about Scotland, justice, and the power of shared voices, it feels fitting to share that our annual Just Love national gathering is being held in Glasgow this year! Keep an eye out for more updates.