A British Tar is a Soaring Soul

A British Tar is a Soaring Soul
lyrics by Sir William S Gilbert
music by Sir Arthur S Sullivan

His eyes should flash, and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude!
– Ralph, Boatswain and Carpenter, in HMS Pinafore

Today’s song hails from the “Rodgers and Hammerstein” of the Victorian Era: Sir William Gilbert and Sir Arthur Sullivan. They wrote 14 comic operas together and helped lay the groundwork for that great synthesis of music, drama, art, and dance that we know today as the musical comedy. Sir Arthur is also well-known for some enduring works of his own. He wrote Onward, Christian Soldiers and The Lost Chord among many other orchestral and choral works. When Sir Arthur died at the age of 58 following complications due to pneumonia, his wish was to be buried in Brompton Cemetery with his parents and his brother. Queen Victoria exercised her prerogative, however, and ordered that he be buried in St Paul’s Cathedral. It was meant to be a great compliment, but I wonder if, all things considered, he might rather have had his first location. Maybe he and his family are having a good laugh about it right now.

Gilbert & Sullivan’s moment in history was right square in the middle of Queen Victoria’s reign. It was the time when “the sun never set on the British Empire” and the British Navy, in particular, exemplified this fact. In HMS Pinafore (also known as The Lass That Loved a Sailor), Sir William and Sir Arthur set forth the Victorian ideal of a sailor in the Queen’s Navy:

A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word.

Do you know what I love about writings from bygone eras (something that I fear we may be losing)? It is that people were so infused with the cadences of and allusions to Scripture that, even when writing secular works, Biblical references just leaked out and were everywhere present. In this first verse of “A British Tar”, two Bible verses come to mind. First, the great promises of Isaiah 40:31 –

. . . but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

And then I think of the whole “armor of God” in Ephesians, where our “energetic fists” should have the shield of faith in one hand and the sword of the Spirit (the Word of God) in the other (Ephesians 6:16-17).

His bosom should heave and his heart should glow,
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.

As our British tars begin verse two, we see a sterner visage: one that is approved when faced with evil. This, too, is something I fear is being lost in our post-modern culture. While we are loving the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, and also loving our neighbor as ourselves, we should not forget what Romans 12:9 reminds us: “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good . . .”

His eyes should flash with an inborn fire,
His brow with scorn be wrung;
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.

His eyes should flash, and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude!

Now, I know I’m a pretty old-fashioned guy in a lot of ways, but I wonder if a lot of the crises facing men these days (and impacting society in general as a result) could be dealt with by looking to the wisdom of the past. John Henry Cardinal Newman was one of England’s most famous converts to Roman Catholicism (G K Chesterton being another that jumps to mind). Cardinal Newman wrote a treatise in 1852, titled The Idea of a University. It was intended for English and Irish Catholics (who had just recently received civil rights) and who might be attending university. In it, Cardinal Newman seems to join Messrs Gilbert & Sullivan in expounding on the concept of a “gentleman”:

It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is one who never inflicts pain. This description is both refined and, as far as it goes, accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself. His benefits may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal nature: like an easy chair or a good fire, which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides both means of rest and animal heat without them. The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast; — all clashing of opinion, or collision of feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his great concern being to make everyone at their ease and at home. He has his eyes on all his company; he is tender towards the bashful, gentle towards the distant, and merciful towards the absurd; he can recollect to whom he is speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He makes light of favours while he does them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort, he has no ears for slander or gossip, is scrupulous in imputing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best. He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not say out. From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should ever conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend. He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical principles; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because it is irreparable, and to death, because it is his destiny. If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect preserves him from the blunder.

As I was thinking about these writings, I jumped forward to the present and to the cause of our celebrations today: exactly one hundred years after Cardinal Newman wrote his treatise, the world was blessed, in 1952, with another “gentleman” and “soaring soul”: my dear, dear friend, Jim Miller. Today, February 26, we celebrate Jim’s birthday. If you are blessed to know Jim personally, you know that his “eyes flash” and his “heart glows” with his love of the Lord. And, like Newman’s gentleman and Gilbert & Sullivan’s sailor, Jim’s “customary attitude” is one of love, concern, respect, and encouragement for all of God’s children. All of this is true, but it is not an end in and of itself: the really great thing is that Jim is able to link this behavior with the underlying and driving story of his life – his love of Jesus Christ the Lord.

Now, Jim would be the first to point out that he is just a regular guy, with all the same frailties, hopes, and fears as everybody else. That’s all true – and, to me, that’s all the more reason his story is compelling. Jim lives out the verse “for in Him we live and move and have our being,” (as St Paul quotes the Greek poets in Acts 17:28), as well as my favorite verse (Ephesians 5:10), “try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord.” If you have read anything in these paltry posts of mine this Lent and have found encouragement or insight, chances are I gleaned that insight from Jim.

The creative world of Gilbert & Sullivan was a fanciful and (to use one of their phrases) topsy-turvy one: fairies brushed up against British lords, gondoliers became monarchs, and a lowly sailor turned out to be the Admiral of the Sea. There’s another story making the rounds and it is far more topsy-turvy and amazing than any of these. In it, a lowly child born in a stable turns out to be the King of the Universe. In it, the meek inherit the earth. In it, the blind see. In it, prostitutes and tax collectors can enter the Kingdom of Heaven before Pharisees. In it, the Good Shepherd lays down his life for His sheep – and is raised to eternal life. It’s a story I’ve heard all my life and have always believed. And today, especially, I give thanks for my friend Jim, who – through his commitment to the Lord, Biblical knowledge, teaching skills, “inborn fire” of the Spirit, devotion to his family, care of the flock the Lord has entrusted to him, and friendship – has further illuminated for me this “greatest story ever told”.

Jim: as you blow out the candles tonight, know that there is a whole host of your friends throughout the entire Communion of the Saints who echo these wishes – and who could have expressed them much better than me. So maybe the words of Philemon 7 say it best for all of us:

“I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.”

Happy Birthday, Powerhouse!