Generally these are short scenarios about Masons and Masonry that can be read in just a few minutes. Occasionally I also publish some of my longer Masonic articles and even some personal accounts as well.
On December 27, Freemasonry worldwide celebrates St. John the Evangelist Day. On that day in 1811, a Friday, our Brothers at St. Louis Lodge 111 gathered for a feast and, as a part of the proceedings, sang a tribute to celebrate the life of St. John. Especially for that occasion, Lieutenant Joseph Cross of the US Artillery wrote the lyrics to the tune of Lochabor No More, a folk tune claimed by both Scotland and Ireland.
Frederic L. Billon, a former Grand Secretary of the Grand Lodge of Missouri, recorded the words of the song in his extensive Masonic Journal, even though the event took place when he was only ten years old.
Brother Billon's dedication to history allows us the opportunity to celebrate this year's St. John's Day across time, spoken perhaps for the first time since that celebration long ago, with our Brothers from A.L. 5811. You will pardon me for not singing, as the tune plays in the background.
It was simply titled, A Masonic Song:
O look at Creation! With a Mason's bright eye,
The Grand Architect's temple, resplendent in light,
Its wisdom, its strength, and its beauty outvie
The conception of Mortals — o'erpowers their sight —
The circle, whose radiance all space cannot bind
For its centre is Love — almighty in mind;
Our vision is darkened — then bend low the knee,
And in Faith, Hope & Charity ever agree —
Let the cadence of joy, steal soft in the ear,
While mystical love rises warm in each heart;
The bright jewels of virtue we'll ever revere,
And nine times united, enshrine our grand art:
The Evangelist's birth let our honors proclaim
In fraternity echo St. John's brilliant name,
And remember our Brother who justly defined
The chant of affection — a Free Mason's mind —
Yes, remember our Brother whose birth we now sing,
And remember the axioms he gave to our art;
Tho a Brother in darkness let love still upspring,
Oh! enlighten his soul — and pour oil in his heart —
Tha' a Brother may err still our Father doth love
And his son will induct to the Grand Lodge above;
As Masons we're bound to toil with each other,
"Then never forsake an unfortunate Brother."
As spotless as White is the innocent mind,
As constant as Blue is the soul to the Light,
Whose effulgence ennobles the Free Mason's mind
When the Red beams of love enrapture the sight
Then think of the angle, whose square is so true.
And the compass which guards and encircles us too;
Let not _____ vice our attraction e'er draw
Subjecting our passions to a Mason's wise law —
Think not dearest sister, that pride can conspire,
To exclude your loved sex from the Lodges on earth,
We fear the bright charms — which are love's holy fire
Would mingle our duties — to dissention give birth;
The blush of aurora enkindles the earth
E're the radiant God sheds His light in the west;
Your virtues and charms in our hearts are a feast
And Masons are born that the fair may be blest,
Our sparkling goblets, let Temperance fill
With the juice of the grape to all Masons who are Free.
Their acceptance we drink with fraternal good will.
And in brotherly love may we ever agree —
May their bosoms be bright, their daughters be fair,
Their passions well governed, their hearts free from care
Their corn, wine and oil in plenty abound,
And their happiness last while the globe shall go round—
My
Dad joined Freemasonry shortly after returning from World War II.
When the Lodge Gave him his apron, it came in the large paper
envelope shown.
He
was raised in Indiana and ordinarily the lodge would give the Entered
Apprentice his apron in a more sturdy cellophane container. However
cellophane and its ingredients were needed for the war effort, so
they replaced that container with the one you see here. It's really
flimsy and did not hold up well at all. For that reason I imagine
there aren't many left in existence.
My
father became a Mason under the Grand Lodge of Indiana. Prior to
World War II, the Grand Lodge issued aprons in cellophane, which was
more protective and durable than the paper envelope that covered my
father's apron. At some point they switched over to the tubes,
similar to those used today. But in-between, the Grand Lodge of
Indiana, and other Grand Lodges, I suppose, handed out the aprons in
the paper envelopes.
The
reason, of course, was World War II. The apron containers had been
made of cellophane. Cellophane looks to be a type of plastic but it
isn't a petroleum-based product. Its use, therefore did not require
petroleum for which the armed forces had a critical need. This made
the demand for cellophane even greater, mainly for wrapping, sealing
and protecting food supplies. Therefore the Grand Lodge of Indiana
and probably others, had to stop wrapping aprons in cellophane.
Just
to show how flimsy these things really are, here is the only other
picture I could find of another one. As you can see, it's in much
worse condition than my father's.
The
main design, as you see here, is that of what I would assume to be a
Senior Deacon, knocking at the Inner Door, dressed in the style of
clothes worn in the Temple in King Solomon's day.
In
the upper left is a small note explaining why the Brother is
receiving what you might call an inferior container for his apron.
It reads: .
MASONRY
WILL UNDERSTAND
OUR
FIGHTING MEN NEED CELLOPHANE AND ITS INGREDIENTS. FOR THAT REASON THE
PROTECTION CELLOPHANE FORMERLY GAVE OUR MASONIC APRONS HAS TO BE
ELIMINATED.
THIS
WHITE PAPER STOCK WILL CARRY ON FOR THE DURATION.
You
will notice the so-called white stock has yellowed considerably.
In
the lower right hand corner, we can see the Ihling Bros. Everard Co.
of Kalamazoo, Michigan made the apron. That company still exists
under the name Kalamazoo Sportswear and Regalia.
So
that's it. I don't think the piece is particularly valuable but to
me, of course it's priceless. Exchanging a cellophane apron holder
for a paper one isn't exactly a big sacrifice but it's a good
reminder of the sacrifices everyone had to make back then for the
war. Food items, gasoline, rubber for tires… all were in short
supply. We don't have to make those sacrifices today, so perhaps the
significance of this little item is to have us remember the
challenges even the people here at home had to endure in order to win
that war.
William Schaw, born sometime around 1550, is best known as the Great Master of Works to James VI of Scotland. As such he was responsible for overseeing all royal castles and palaces. Having the complete trust of the King, he also served him in several other capacities, including accomopanying him to Denmark to return with the new queen, Anna of Denmark.
Within Freemasonry Schaw is best known for setting forth the first and second set of Schaw Statutes to be observed by all the Master Masons within the realm. He issued the first set in 1598. Written as a part of his responsibility as Master of works, he directed both statutes primarily to operative Masons; however, these are among the first documents alluding to the esoteric and speculative aspects of the craft.
The first set of statutes specifies 22 rules and regulations designed to govern the work and behavior of Master Masons and their apprentices. Many of the rules set forth a penalty for disobedience. These regulations call on all Masons to "observe and keep all the good ordinances established before... to be true to one another and live charitably together... and be honest, faithful, and diligent in their calling." In it he admonishes masons never to undertake work they can't perform nor take away another master's work. He limits the number of apprentices in a lifetime to three and prohibits the selling of apprentices to other masters. Schaw also outlines rules governing the resolution of grievances and stipulates penalties collected shall go to charity.
The Second Schaw Statute, written in 1599, establishes in order, Edinburgh, Kilwinning and Stirling as the principal lodges in Scotland. It establishes the election of the wardens, deacons and secretaries and some of their duties. It reaffirms the use of fines for charity and dictates exclusion of all who fail to live up to the statutes. It requires every fellow of the craft and apprentice to demonstrate their skills annually and forbids association with cowens.
The inscription on his tomb bears the most reliable source of his biographical information and reads:
"This humble structure of stones covers a man of excellent skill, notable probity, singular integrity of life, adorned with the greatest of virtues – William Schaw, Master of the King's Works, President of the Sacred Ceremonies, and the Queen's Chamberlain. He died 18th April, 1602.
Among the living he dwelt fifty-two years; he had travelled in France and many other Kingdoms, for the improvement of his mind; he wanted no liberal training; was most skilful in architecture; was early recommended to great persons for the singular gifts of his mind; and was not only unwearied and tireless in labours and business, but constantly active and vigorous, and was most dear to every good man who knew him. He was born to do good offices, and thereby to gain the hearts of men; now he lives eternally with God."
His tomb also bears what may be the earliest mason's mark. It is a complex sculpture of all the letters of his name, an S-C-H-A-W, inscribed over a square and compasses. His epitaph concludes, "Queen Anne ordered this monument to be erected to the memory of this most excellent and most upright man, lest his virtues, worthy of eternal commendation, should pass away with the death of his body."
The First Schaw Statute of 1598
Edinburgh, the 28th day of December AD 1598.
[Edinburgh the xxiij day of December. The zeir of God ... four scoir awchtene zeiris.]
The Statutes and Ordinances to be observed by all the Master Masons within this realm. Set down by William Schaw, Master of Work to His Majesty and Warden General of the said Craft, with consent of the Masters specified hereafter.
[The statutis and ordinanceis to be obseruit be all the maister mdissounis within this redline, Sett down be Williame Schaw, Maister of Wark to his maiestie find generall Wardene of the said Craft, with the consent of the maisteris efter specifeit.]
(1) First, they shall observe and keep all the good ordinances established before, concerning the privileges of their craft, by their predecessors of good memory; and especially. They shall be true to one another and live charitably together as becometh sworn brethren and companions of the Craft.
(2) They shall be obedient to their wardens, deacons, and masters in all things concerning their craft.
(3) They shall be honest, faithful, and diligent in their calling, and deal uprightly with their masters, or the employers, on the work which they shall take in hand, whether it be piece-work with meals and pay [task, melt, & fie], or for wages by the week.
(4) None shall undertake any work great or small, which he is not capable to perform adequately, under penalty of forty pounds lawful money or else the fourth part of the worth and value of the work, besides making satisfactory amends to the employers, according as the Warden General may direct or, in the absence of the latter, as may be ordered by the wardens, deacons, and masters of the sheriffdom in which the work is undertaken and carried on.
(5) No master shall take away another master's work after the latter has entered into an agreement with the employer by contract or otherwise, under penalty of forty pounds.
(6) No master shall take over any work at which other masters have been engaged previously, until the latter shall have been paid in full for the work they did, under penalty of forty pounds.
(7) A warden shall be elected annually to have charge of every lodge in the district for which he is chosen by the votes of the masters of the lodges of such district and the consent of the Warden General if he happens to be present; otherwise the Warden General shall be notified of the election that he may send to the warden-elect necessary directions.
(8) No master shall take more than three 'prentices in his lifetime, without the special consent of all the wardens, deacons, and masters of the sheriffdom in which the to-be-received 'prentice resides.
(9) No master shall take on any 'prentice except by binding him to serve him as such for at least seven years, and it shall not be lawful to make such 'prentice a brother or fellow of the craft until he shall have served other seven years after the completion of his 'prenticeship, without a special license granted by the wardens, deacons, and masters, assembled for that purpose, after sufficient trial shall have been made by them of the worthiness, qualifications and skill of the person desiring to be made a fellowcraft. A fine of forty pounds shall be collected as a pecuniary penalty from the person who is made a fellow of the craft in violation of this order, besides the penalties to be levied against his person by order of the lodge of the place where he resides.
(10) It shall not be lawful for any master to sell his 'prentice to another master, nor to curtail the years of his 'prenticeship by selling these off to the 'prentice himself, under the penalty of forty pounds.
[Item, it sall be no lesum to an maister to sell his prenteiss to ony ether maister not zit to dispense wt the zeiris of his prenteischip be selling yrof to the prenteisses self, ynder th pane of fourtie pounds.]
(11) No master shall take on a 'Prentice without notice to the warden of the lodge where he resides, so that the 'Prentice and the day of his reception may be duly booked.
(12) No 'Prentice shall be entered except according to the aforesaid regulations in order that the day of entry may be duly booked.
(13) No master or fellow of craft shall be received or admitted without there being present six masters and two entered 'prentices, the warden of the lodge being one of the six, when the day of receiving the new fellow of craft or master shall be duly booked and his mark inserted in the same book, with the names of the six admitters and entered 'prentices, as also the names of the intenders [intendaris-instructors] which shall be chosen for every person so entered in the book of the lodge. Providing always that no man be admitted without an essay and sufficient trial of his skill and worthiness in his vocation and craft.
(14) No master shall engage in any mason work under the charge or command of any other craftsman who has undertaken the doing of any mason work.
(15) No master or fellow of craft shall accept any cowan to work in his society or company, nor send any of his servants to work with cowans, under the penalty of twenty pounds as often as any person offends in this matter.
(16) It shall not be lawful for any entered 'Prentice to undertake any greater task or work for an employer, which amounts to as much as ten pounds, under the penalty just mentioned, to wit twenty pounds, and that task being done he shall not undertake any other work without license of the masters or warden where he dwells.
(17) If any question, strife, or variance shall arise among any of the masters, servants, or entered 'prentices, the parties involved in such questions or debate shall make known the causes of their quarrel to the particular warden and deacon of their lodge, within the space of twenty-four hours, under penalty of ten pounds, to the end that they may be reconciled and agreed and their variances removed by their said warden, deacon, and masters; and if any of the said parties shall remain wilful or obstinate, they shall be deprived f the privilege of their lodge and not permitted to work thereat unto the time that they shall submit themselves to reason according to the view of the said wardens, deacons, and masters.
(18) All masters, undertakers of works, shall be very careful to see that the scaffolds and gangways are set and placed securely in order that by reason of their negligence and sloth no injury or damage [hurt or skaith] may come to any persons employed in the said work, under penalty of their being excluded thereafter from working as masters having charge of any work, and shall ever be subject all the rest of their days to work under or with an other principal master in charge of the work.
(19) No master shall receive or house [resset] a 'Prentice or servant of any other master, who shall have run away from his master's service, nor entertain him in his company after he has received knowledge thereof, under penalty of forty pounds.
(20) All persons of the mason craft shall convene at the time and place lawfully made known to them [being lawchfullie warnit], under penalty of ten pounds.
(21) All the masters who shall happen to be sent to any assembly or meeting, shall be sworn by their great oath that they will neither hide nor conceal any faults or wrongs done to the employers on the work they have in hand, so far as they know, and that under penalty of ten pounds to be collected from the concealers of the said faults.
(22) It is ordained that all the aforesaid penalties shall be lifted and taken up from the offenders and breakers of their ordinances by the wardens, deacons, and masters of the lodges where the offenders dwell, the moneys to be expended ad pios usus (for charitable purposes) according to good conscience and by the advice of such wardens, deacons, and masters.
For the fulfilling and observing of these ordinances, as set down above, the master convened on the aforesaid day bind and obligate themselves faithfully. Therefore they have requested their said Warden General to sign these ordinances by his own hand in order that an authentic copy hereof may be sent to every particular lodge within this realm.
(Signed) WILLIAM SCHAW,
Master of the Work
[Maistir o/ Wark.]
The Second Schaw Statute of 1599
As the document is rather long, the several items have been somewhat condensed and placed in an ordered sequence. The numbering of the paragraphs is done for purposes of convenient reference:
(1) Edinburgh shall be, in the future as in the past, the first and principal lodge in Scotland; Kilwinning, the second "as is established in our ancient writings;" and Stirling shall be the third lodge, "conformably to the old privileges thereof."
(2) The warden within the bounds of Kilwinning and other places subject to their lodge, shall be elected annually by a majority [be monyest] of the masters of the lodge, on the twentieth day of December, in the Kirk of Kilwinning. Immediately after election, the Warden General must be notified who was chosen warden.
(3) Agreeably to "former ancient liberties," the warden of Kilwinning shall be present at the election of wardens within the limits of the lower ward of Cliddisdale, Glasgow, Ayr, and the district of Carrik. Furthermore, the warden and deacon of Kilwinning shall have authority to convene the wardens within the indicated jurisdiction, when anything of importance is to be done, such meetings to be held at Kilwinning or any other place in the western part of Scotland included in the described bounds, as the warden and deacon of Kilwinning may appoint.
(4) The warden of each and every lodge shall he answerable to the presbyters of the sheriffdom for all offences committed by masons subject to these lodges. One third of all fines imposed for offences shall be applied to charitable [godlie] uses.
(5) The wardens together with the oldest masters, up to the number of six, of every lodge shall hold an annual investigation of offences committed and try all offenders to the end that proper punishment may be meted out conformably to equity and justice and good conscience, according to traditional procedure.
(6) The warden of Kilwinning shall appoint six worthy and perfect masons, well known to the craft as such, to inquire into the qualifications of all the masons within the district, as regards their skill and knowledge of the trade and their familiarity with the old traditions, to the end that the warden [and] deacon may be answerable thereafter for all such persons within his district and jurisdiction.
(7) Authority is given to the warden [and] deacon of Kilwinning to exclude from the lodges of the district all persons who wilfully fail to live up to "all the acts and ancient statutes set down from time immemorial," also all who are ."disobedient to their church, craft, council and other statutes and acts to be promulgated hereafter for good order."
(8) The warden and deacon, together with the masters of the district [quarter maisteries] shall elect a well known notary [constitut ane famous notar] as clerk and secretary [scryb] who shall make out and sign all indentures, discharges, and other writings whatsoever, pertaining to the craft, and no writ, title or other evidence shall be admitted by the warden and deacon, except it shall have been executed by this clerk and signed by him.
(9) All the acts and statutes made by the predecessors of the masons of Kilwinning shall be observed faithfully and kept by the craft in all time coming; 'prentices and craftsmen shall be admitted and entered hereafter only in the Kirk of Kilwinning, as their parish and second lodge, and all entry-banquets of 'prentices and fellows of craft shall be held in the lodge of Kilwinning.
(10) Every fellow of craft, at his entry, shall pay to his lodge ten pounds to go for the banquet, and ten shillings for gloves; before admission he shall be examined by the warden [and] deacon and the district masters in the lodge as to his knowledge [memorie] and skill, and he also shall perform an assigned task to demonstrate his mastery of the art.
(11) Every 'prentice, before he is admitted, shall pay six pounds to be applied to the common banquet.
(12) The warden and deacon of the second lodge of Scotland, to wit Kilwinning, shall obligate by oath all masters and fellows of craft within the district not to associate with cowans nor work with them, neither to permit this to be done by their servants or 'prentices.
(13) The warden of the lodge of Kilwinning, being the second lodge of Scotland, once in each year, shall examine every fellow craft and 'prentice, according to the vocation of each, as to his skill and knowledge; those who have forgotten any points they have been taught shall pay fines.
In my area it's not uncommon for one Lodge to ask another to do what we call "courtesy work," especially for the smaller Lodges. It may not be the ideal situation, but it's sometimes necessary.
A recent request for courtesy work brought to mind an evening when another Lodge in my area asked my own Lodge to perform a Third Degree. We couldn't fit it into our schedule, so we punted it over to the local Study Club, which had an upcoming meeting in our building.
So instead of Study Club, we held a Called Meeting. As we were preparing to begin, a Brother from out of state walked in, said he had seen our outside light was on and decided to attend.
With the study club members present we had the luxury of putting the "best of the best" in each position. I was the Chaplain that evening. I suppose I belonged in that esteemed group only because the Chaplain's job is to watch the entire degree and then, near the end, not mess things up.
Fact is, with that team in place, we simply performed the most amazing degree I have ever seen. Everyone knew their parts; everyone hit their marks; it went off like clockwork.
At the end of the evening we went around the room for the requisite introductions and remarks. When our out-of-town visitor stood up, he let us know he was, in no uncertain terms, astounded by the quality of the work. He went so far as to say it put his own jurisdiction's work "to shame."
I don't know if anyone ever told him our little secret. We brought the A-Team that night and hit one out of the park.
There is a common scenario that, in one form or another, seems to crop up in almost every initiation. At the end of the degree, the Master gives the attendees a chance to introduce themselves and speak if they wish. Congratulations abound and at some point one of the Brothers will tell the new initiate, "You will get out of Freemasonry what you put into it." Another day, another cliché.
Then there's that other scenario. You meet an old acquaintance whom you know to be a member and he tells you he dropped out saying, "All they wanted was my money."
Did you ever stop to think those two overworked remarks are related?
Take, for example, our two esteemed Brothers John Doe and Joe Doakes. John and Joe are the same age and, like all of us, have family responsibilities and demanding jobs. Raised on the same evening, their Masonic journeys take two distinct paths.
John dives right in, starts helping out around the Lodge, participates in the social functions and eventually fills in for officers in their absence. He participates in degree work, becomes interested in the ritual and begins reading articles about its meaning. The incoming Master asks him to step into the officers' line and his progression through the chairs begins. He eventually becomes Master, serves on Grand Lodge committees, joins appendant bodies, his Lodge of Research and maybe writes a couple of articles himself.
Joe, on the other hand, attends a few meetings after his raising but loses interest. Every once in a while he comes to a meeting, but doesn't have much to say; he's not involved in any of the Lodge's projects and most of the planning just bores him. He stops going to meetings altogether and loses touch with his Brothers. They, in turn, don't bother to stay in touch with him since he's drifted away. Joe's proud to be a member, thinks Freemasonry does good things but something seems to be missing.
Each year John and Joe receive a couple pieces of mail from their Lodge and maybe a couple more from the Grand Lodge. Face it, most of those letters contain an appeal for funds.
Then one day, years after becoming members, John and Joe receive their annual dues notices. John pays and doesn't think much about it, except maybe that it's a small price to pay for the value he gets from the fraternity. Joe, however, looks at the statement and thinks back to his only contact with the fraternity this year — those appeals for funds; and now it's not an appeal… it's mandatory. He decides it's not worth it and tosses the dues notice in the trash, "All they ever want is my money."
It is true that we as members have an obligation to stay in touch with Brothers who are no longer active and to encourage them to become involved. However, another cliché comes to mind: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."
The ultimate responsibility for making this fraternity (or pretty much any other life experience) rewarding lies with each of us individually. When things get boring, do something about it (dare I mention, "when the going gets tough the tough get going?").
In the end both Joe and John are right. Joe was right when he said he only heard from the members if they wanted money. He was also right that something was missing. Unfortunately, what was missing was Joe himself.
John, on the other hand, indeed got out of Freemasonry what he put into it.
Most clichés become clichés because they are, ahem… "tried and true."
Coming to Nazareth during his ministry, Jesus preached just as he had been doing throughout the countryside. In other places he had drawn enthusiastic crowds. In this his hometown, however, people in the crowd became derisive. They recognized him to be one of their own, a "common" tradesman, and therefore not someone who should be taken seriously as a teacher or prophet. "Is not this," they asked, "the carpenter?"
This passage is where we learn Jesus, like his earthly father Joseph, was a carpenter, according to contemporary Bible translations. Both Mark 6:3 and Matthew 13:55 give an account of the incident using the Greek word "tektōn" to refer to Jesus' profession.
"Is not this the carpenter [ho tektōn], the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?" ~Mark 6:3 (KJV)
"Is not this the carpenter's son [ho tou tektōnos huios]? Is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James, and Joses, and Simon, and Judas?" ~Matthew 13:55 (KJV)
The word "tekton," however, does not directly translate as "carpenter." It more accurately means "builder" or "craftsman," a designation which, in fact, leaves Jesus' true profession in doubt.
A carpenter would fit in the category of builder or craftsman, and that may well have been what Jesus did. He would not have built homes in an area where trees were scarce, but would have made furniture, doors and tools, such as plows.
However, the most dominant profession around Nazareth, where Jesus grew up and would have practiced his trade, was stone masonry. The area was rich in stone with several quarries, including one in the heart of Nazareth. Virtually all buildings were made of stone, and the demand for stone masons would have been high.
During the time Jesus would have worked as a craftsman, the Romans expanded the small town of Sepphoris into a city for Jewish aristocrats who supported Rome. True, the venture would have required carpenters, but the greatest demand would have been for masons. Sepphoris (today Zippori) was less than four miles from Jesus' home and, regardless of his craft, it is likely he worked on the project.
We’ll never know for sure since the broad definition of "tekton" could refer to a number of professions; but taken in context and in light of the more likely profession of the tradesmen in Nazareth in that era, it could be that Jesus was not a carpenter, but an operative mason.
Publishing is hard. Just ask Robert Johnson, the Managing Editor of the Midnight Freemasons blog. Every week you can go there and read three new articles on Freemasonry and then go about your business. Very simple. There is a lot, however, going on behind the scenes to bring those articles to you. He faces some of the same problems publishers have had since Gutenberg's brainstorm gave us movable type. That said, Right Worshipful Brother Robert has a "leg up" on some publishers when it comes to getting those articles to you. Once he has gone through the process of reading, editing, spell-checking and making sure an article is appropriate he heads for his computer and… presto-change-o! He hands it to you on the Internet, that land of science and technology with a bit of magic thrown in.
Given that, consider the life of a Brother… say… a quarter-century ago. The Internet was there but not for him and not for his Lodge. For that Brother to get a Masonic publication at home it was going to come to him through one portal… his mailbox.
This method of delivery presented a few extra steps and challenges for publishers back then. Still, it was kind of an easy process for the Brother receiving the publication. He brought in the mail, grabbed his pipe and slippers, sat back in his easy chair and spent some quiet time reading the latest Masonic magazine or newsletter. When you think about it, given the frenetic lives people live today and the fact they always seem to be staring at some kind of screen, getting publications that way can be a nice change of pace; and some of them still come that way, don't they? Many state magazines, The Royal Arch Mason, Knight Templar magazine, The Scottish Rite Journal — are hard-copy publications. They are also larger-scale operations with budgets, and in some cases a staff, that can get the job done.
It's also likely you receive other publications like newsletters and bulletins from smaller Masonic groups. Consider the work it takes to get those to your mailbox. The people who distribute these smaller publications face the same issues as bigger publishers, but have to rely on volunteer help, a bit of creativity and hard work to get those items to your door.
Judy VanVickle edits one such publication, the High Twelve Highlights, in St. Joseph Missouri. Her sixteen-page monthly newsletter has a circulation of 260 and what she does is typical of the work other small-publication editors have to do.
"I use Microsoft Publisher for most of the work," she says. "Some of the articles come in Microsoft Word format while some are in longhand. I have to type the handwritten articles myself. I have a standard layout and Publisher usually handles the formatting. I get clip-art from lots of places and use that and cartoons to fill any empty spaces."
Once the layout is complete she sends the file to a professional printer who prints and collates the pages. "Then," says Judy, "we have a 'stuffing party.' We fold, staple, crease and stuff the envelopes and get everything ready for bulk mailing." She says she serves donuts at the party, which seems to be as much fun as work. Judy always includes the names of her helpers in the newsletter.
The Highlights newsletter is ad-supported. This helps defray the cost of the printing and mailing but adds more work to the process. Individual members divide up the work of selling the ads then the group's Treasurer, Brother Al Patterson, sends the artwork to Judy, ready to insert in the newsletter.
Judy realizes the newsletter would be less work and expense online, "but," she says, "so many of our readers just don't make use of the Internet."
So the next time you go to your mailbox and find one of these small publications, remember the men and women getting the newsletters and bulletins out are some of the unsung heroes of our craft. Then, with or without pipe and slippers, enjoy the product from these small but important Masonic quarries.
Recently Brother Greg Knott wrote an article for the Midnight Freemasons blog about a Medal of Honor. He described the respect he had for the man who earned it and, in fact, for the medal itself. It brought to mind something I saw years ago which has stayed with me and been a reminder that such items should be handled with the care and respect they demand:
I was working on installing a system in a large metropolitan bank's safekeeping department. The executive offices there were glass-walled and I saw a group inside one standing around something a customer had brought in for storage. I went over for a closer look and saw they were inspecting a violin — a Stradivarius violin. To date myself, this was back when employees could smoke in offices; and there stood one of the execs leaning over the priceless instrument with a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Not only that, the butt had a long trail of ashes on the front which, predictably, dropped onto the violin. He brushed the ashes off and the gang continued gawking. I was stunned they could treat such an incredible piece so carelessly.
Over the years I've had occasion to see some pretty significant Masonic memorabilia. Many times when I've had "hands-on" access I think of that little scenario in the bank and remind myself to take the utmost care with the item.
I've seen many such items at the Truman Library in Independence, Missouri. The staff there "bends over backwards" to dig out documents and artifacts for researchers. White gloves are the order of the day as researchers go through the precious treasure trove of Brother Truman's life.
On one occasion I was there researching the well-documented account of the President's visit to Beech Grove Lodge in Indiana. While on his Whistle-Stop tour in 1948, Truman evaded the press and much of his traveling party to attend a meeting at that Lodge and raise a Brother who worked for him. At the close of the meeting he asked if he could keep the apron he had worn as a souvenir.
As the staff at the Truman Library gathered items relating to that visit, one of the artifacts turned out to be that apron. I was mesmerized as I looked at it. I felt as if I was in the presence of the President himself. Unable to resist, I broke one of the Library's rules. I slipped off my glove and…
I touched it.
I probably shouldn't have done it, but something inside me just wanted that connection with the historic apron. I don't think I hurt it at all. It didn't seem the same as dumping a pile of cremated tobacco onto a Stradivarius. What's more, I'm not sorry. I would do it again — guilty as charged. I didn't do it maliciously.
When the Nazi's occupied France during World War II, their ferocious propaganda machine worked to indoctrinate citizens into their warped value system — including an intense disdain for Freemasonry.
One of their tools was the 1943 movie Occult Forces. Ignoring the fact the film is grainy with poor sound quality, factually inaccurate and uses sinister props that conjure up visions of Plan Nine From Outer Space, it provides some insight into what may be a contributing factor to any anti-Masonic sentiment in France — or elsewhere — today.
Maurice Rémy plays Pierre Avenel, the film's protagonist. Rémy was a "B-List" French actor who had even played in anti-Nazi films. However, he had a quick, if not predictable, change of heart once the Gestapo took charge. Regardless of whether his conversion to Nazi sympathies was genuine, his role in the movie earned him a hasty one-way ticket to Argentina after the war.
Director Jean Charles Mamy and screenwriter Jean Marquès-Rivière were Freemasons who "saw the light" and renounced their memberships. After the war, France sentenced both to death, specifically for the roles they played in producing the film. Marquès-Rivière fled to Argentina. Mamy faced a firing squad on March 29, 1949.
The film telegraphs its anti-Masonic theme from the opening credits where a shadowy blob descends before the viewer's eyes and comes into focus as an ugly spider with a square and compasses on its back. Subtle, eh?
Rémy's character, Pierre Avenel, is a high-ranking French official whom the Masons feel they need to control in order to accomplish their evil purposes. (I might add, the film's Freemasons are members of the Grand Orient of France, one of the groups considered clandestine in the US). Their solution is to initiate and indoctrinate him. His initiation is a combination of the familiar and bizarre, and once a member, he falls into the abyss of clandestine alliances and corrupt deals.
Over time, Avenel becomes disillusioned as the Masons plot to put their plan for world domination into practice. He attempts to demit, but the Grand Master encourages him to remain a member with a combination of threats and promises to promote him to "superior levels."
Finally, the Masons can no longer tolerate Avenel's insolence. The Grand Master expels him and sends men to attack him. As Avenel recuperates the Masons rise up against Germany and drag it and the rest of the world into the flames of war.
There is no telling what influence this film had on audiences at its release. It certainly had enough impact to have Rémy, Mamy and Marquès-Rivière convicted of collaborating with the enemy. Some of the accusations and myths about Freemasonry it brought into focus were the following:
Conspiracy theorists today claim there is a top tier of Masons, run behind the scenes by powerful individuals, who hold the real authority. Outside that elite tier, "average" Masons don't know what is going on. "In Masonry," the Grand Master tells Avenel, "we hide everything from the little people."
Claims abound that there are "higher degrees" in the craft, whose recipients learn the real secrets and gain the real benefits and power of the fraternity. The film reinforces this when the Grand Master dangles membership in the "superior levels" of Freemasonry in front of Avenel, in an attempt to get him to cooperate.
The film depicts Masonry's perceived anti-Catholic stance by the fact that Avenel is himself a member of the Catholic church. In the investigation scene, one member of the committee literally gasps upon learning Avenel is Catholic. It takes fancy footwork to convince the committee members Avenel is "spiritual, but non-practicing." Even at that, his election to receive the degrees is not unanimous.
The audience is made to see Brothers as social-climbers who seek and grant favors among themselves. Government officials hand out jobs and judges acquit the guilty because of the bond of fraternity.
In one telling scene the Grand Master reveals absolutely no one is in charge of Freemasonry; that it moves as a ubiquitous force. Even the Grand Master just receives and passes orders. He describes a nebulous structure that leaves the door open for conspiracy theorists to fill in the blanks and make of Freemasonry practically anything they want.
With these and other examples Occult Forces is a film full of stereotypes, myths and deceptions about Freemasonry. These misrepresentations so parallel some of the outrageous claims of anti-Masons today one wonders if this single piece of Nazi propaganda merely included existing fabrications or was, in fact, the origin of prevailing myths about the fraternity.
A few years ago, while visiting the Pony Express Museum in St. Joseph, Missouri, I thought it would be a great project to research the riders, find out which ones were Masons and write a little piece on each of them. Without going into great detail let's just say that history is lost, not to mention the fact that most of the riders were too young to be Masons in the first place. I gave up on the article until I found out the two major founders of the Pony Express, William Russell and Alexander Majors, were, in fact, Freemasons.
A third founder, William Waddell served mainly as the financier while Brothers Russell and Majors were the hands-on forces driving the company. As such they demanded high standards of conduct from the riders which reflected their Masonic values.
Prior to joining the company, each rider had to repeat the following obligation with its obvious Masonic undertones:
"You will raise your arm to a level square and repeat after me. I... do hereby swear, before the Great and Living God, that during my engagement... I will, under no circumstances, use profane language, that I will drink no intoxicating liquors, that I will not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as to win the confidence of my employers, so help me God."
Beginning April 3, 1860, the riders relayed mail on horseback from St. Joseph to Sacramento. The trip took about ten days and, at the time, it was the fastest way to communicate with settlers on the west coast. The Pony Express has become an iconic part of American history, even though it only operated less than 19 months until October 24, 1861, when the completion of the transcontinental telegraph line put it out of business.
Although many of the riders' histories have been lost, there was one who, after riding for the Pony Express at age 14, became world famous later in life. His name was William Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill, who, a decade later became a member of Platte Valley Lodge #32 in Nebraska. His legendary exploits began as a rider, where he was said to have completed the longest ride ever, going over 300 miles in a single day.
Living in an age of traveling entertainment, Cody assembled his own entourage, commonly known as "Buffalo Bill's Wild West" show. The production staged reenactments of Custer's Last Stand, robberies and, of course, Pony Express rides. Over time, the show made Cody famous and wealthy by the standards of his day.
After the collapse of the Pony Express, the founders lost their fortunes and never really recovered. Brother Majors was especially hard-hit, winding up penniless and living in a shack. It was in that condition that Brother Cody found him twenty years after the organization had folded.
Cody not only furnished the assistance necessary for Majors to get back on his feet, but also provided him with a contact to help finish his memoirs. Employing those Masonic tenets of Brotherly love and relief, Buffalo Bill repaid his former employer, a Brother, who had given him his start many years prior. As Freemasons, that's the kind of thing we do.
Although
a crime of passion, by now it would have faded forgotten into history
but for the impassioned and eloquent words of a Freemason. The facts
of the case were never in doubt. The killer admitted firing his gun
in anger and leaving the body where it fell. The morning after the
crime, the killer's neighbor, Charles Burden, found the body.
Enraged, he began a year-long battle to bring Leonidas Hornsby to
justice for killing Old Drum, Burden's hunting dog.
Leonidas
Hornsby was an angry man. Something was killing his sheep and he
wanted it stopped. Any of the predatory wildlife in the area around
his Kingsville, Missouri farm could have killed the sheep but for
some reason, Hornsby was certain dogs were responsible. "I've
had it," Hornsby told a neighbor, "I'm going to kill the
next dog I see on my property." Then, on the evening of October
28, 1869, Hornsby found Old Drum wandering on his farm and made good
on his promise.
Hornsby's
brother-in-law, Charles Burden, lived on the adjoining farm. On
occasion, Burden and Hornsby had gone hunting together with Old Drum
and Hornsby had even called him, "one of the best hunting dogs I
have ever seen."
That
October evening all of Burden's dogs came home except one, Old Drum.
The next morning Burden went in search of his favorite hunting dog
and discovered the body. Hornsby never denied shooting the dog and
Burden did the only thing he could in order to gain some degree of
justice: He sued Hornsby for damages.
The
trial turned into one of the most convoluted circuses in Missouri
legal history. Through the original trial and three appeals, the
dispute finally reached the Missouri Supreme Court on September 23,
1870. Along the way, the case attracted a bevy of high-profile
lawyers including David Nation, husband of temperance zealot Carrie
Nation, and Brother Thomas Crittenden, a future Missouri Governor
whose "dead-or-alive" reward led to the killing of Jesse
James.
Burden's
attorney throughout was Brother George Graham Vest, member of a Lodge
in Frankfort, Kentucky and also a member of the York Rite in Sedalia,
Missouri. Vest, a future US Senator from Missouri, easily got
Hornsby to admit he did not see Old Drum doing any harm to his
property, nor was he certain it was dogs that were killing his sheep.
Although
the crime was vicious, it was nonetheless a misdemeanor. Its record
was destined to fade unnoticed into history until Brother Vest stood
for his closing argument. His inspired words now stand as legendary
to dog lovers and have been cast in bronze on monuments to those
faithful companions. What he said was so powerful that acclaimed
author William Safire said it was one of the greatest speeches of the
millennium, "[Vest's oratory] ranks with that of Patrick Henry,
Abraham Lincoln and, maybe, God. "
Laying
the facts and arguments of the case aside, Vest addressed the jury:
"The
one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have... the one that
never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or
treacherous is his dog.... He guards the sleep of his pauper master
as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert he remains....
and when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in
its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter
if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will
the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad but
open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death."
History
records that when Brother Vest returned to his seat "there was
not a dry eye in the courtroom." The Supreme Court of Missouri
later upheld the jury's verdict: Leonidas Hornsby was guilty of the
killing of Old Drum, and was to pay Charles Burden damages amounting
to the sum of $50, the maximum amount allowable.
In
1958, the area Chamber of Commerce, with backing from dog lovers
across the country, erected a monument to Old Drum on the Johnson
County Courthouse lawn in Warrensburg, Missouri, near the site of the
crime. It pays tribute to Old Drum and George Graham Vest, a
backwoods Missouri lawyer and Freemason who was the first ever to
call a dog "man's best friend."
Addendum:
The
following is the surviving text of Brother Vest's closing arguments.
The final half of his speech has been lost to history. The same
words are inscribed on the monument to Old Drum in Warrensburg,
Missouri:
Gentlemen
of the jury, the best friend a man has in this world may turn against
him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared
with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and
dearest to us — those whom we trust with our happiness and good
name — may become traitors in their faith. The money that a man
has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it
most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of
ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their
knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to
throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our
heads. The one absolute, unselfish friend that man can have in this
selfish world — the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous
— is his dog.
"Gentlemen
of the jury, a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in
health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the
wintry winds blow, and the snow drives fiercely, if only he can be
near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to
offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with
the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master
as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains.
When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as
constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
If
fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless
and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of
accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his
enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the
master in its embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold ground,
no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his
graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his
eyes sad but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to
death.
Bibliography:
Denslow,
William R. 10,000
Famous Freemasons.
Vol. 1. Richmond, VA: Macoy & Masonic Supply, 1957. Print.
"Cedarcroft
Farm Area Guide: The Story of Old Drum - A Man's Best Friend Is His
Dog." Cedarcroft History Guide. Web. 26 Jan.
2012..
Power corrupts. Absolute power, they say, corrupts absolutely. We in Freemasonry, however, elect men to whom we then hand absolute… well, nearly absolute power. Apparently, that's the way we like it.
Not long ago I had dinner with a Brother who was indignant at the fact a Grand Master had expelled an officer out of the Grand Line, "He can't do that!"
What do you mean he can't do that? He's the Grand Master. I'm not bylaws expert but I believe he was well within his rights to do it. The expelled member, in fact, was appointed, not elected. I then gave the Brother a couple examples I've seen where a Grand Master and a Master of the Lodge of Research each had expelled elected line officers. We actually had one Grand Master who said no Lodge could have its own website and ordered all of them taken down. Can't do that? Of course they can. And do.
Absolute power — it's practically an aphrodisiac. You've been Master of your Lodge? You've had it, felt it, embraced it. Some use it wisely; some abuse it. Still, face the facts, we as Freemasons elect a benevolent (we hope) dictator.
When I was Master of my Lodge I tried to be reasonable as I swam in the seductive waters of absolute power. Oh, I made an "executive decision" now and then but all-in-all I think I controlled myself. Well, I controlled myself until…
...Monday, September 20, 2004. It was a week before Grand Lodge and three weeks before my final meeting as Master. I had practically the entire year behind me. I had wielded absolute power with a gentle hand but its siren song now called louder and louder. I was Clark Kent wanting to jump into a phone booth and become Superman. I was Thor unable to resist the pent-up urge to hurl thunderbolts. I was me, crazed, wide-eyed and drooling, ready to unleash my venom on the innocent, unsuspecting world of my Brothers.
"I'm going to do it," I told myself, resigned to the criticism that would surely follow. Who cares… I'm the Master, Captain Marvel, Iron Man, the Hulk, all rolled into one. I can do what I want. Damn the torpedoes, full-speed-ahead.
The unremarkable meeting neared its end. Business over, the Brothers sat on the sidelines ready for the standard closing. My next line, "Brother Senior Warden," which would set things in motion, never came.
Instead, I stood and rapped my gavel on the podium three times. The Brothers rose from their seats. I turned to my left, "Brother Chaplain, you will lead us in prayer."
The Chaplain was a little rattled. "What prayer," he whispered.
"The closing prayer."
"Supreme Architect of the Universe," he began and then ended with his usual flourish.
Then, awash in the intoxicating flood of absolute power, completely within my rights to do so, I skipped all other closing ceremonies, "Brethren, by the power vested in me as its Worshipful Master, I declare Liberty Lodge number 31 duly closed!" By God, I'm the Master. I have the authority. I can do it that way, and I did it. Live with it.
I gave a single rap of the gavel and waited for the onslaught of criticism that was about to come. I was ready. Give me your best shot.
Sometimes, in the ebb and flow of events, things don't happen exactly as we expect. Some call this "the law of unintended consequences." The thing is we usually think of that law implying a negative outcome where a positive outcome is expected.
Well, something unexpected happened here, but it was the opposite. I truly had expected a negative outcome. Instead, the entire Lodge erupted in cheers. Although the Brothers were already standing, I think it counted as a standing ovation.
Who knew giving in to the allure of absolute power could make a guy so popular? Or maybe they were just happy they could get to that second helping of dessert a little sooner. So mote it be.
Brother George Washington was fascinated with the tools used in espionage and, in fact, there are books that delve into the subject. It's understandable... the man had a revolution to win. Invisible ink was one of Brother Washington's favorite tools, but it was fairly ineffective. Invisible ink of the day was made of a concoction largely comprised of lemon juice. The British were well aware of that type of invisible ink and knew all that had to be done to expose the writing was to subject it to heat. The process of heating the paper made it brittle and not many of the secret documents created that way survive today.
Realizing the fallibility of the lemon-based ink, Washington eventually used a special chemical ink which James Jay, brother of first US Chief Justice John Jay, had developed. Jay's ink was invisible until a second chemical agent revealed it, and was far more effective. This particular formula, known as "sympathetic stain," consisted of ferrous oxide (FeO) granules dissolved in water. A solution of sodium carbonate (more commonly known as baking soda) and water applied to the ink made it visible.
One rare surviving invisible ink specimen Washington sent involves another well-known aspect of his life: his troublesome teeth. It is a letter to his dentist, Dr. John Baker. In it, the General complains of a rough spot on his infamous dentures and requests the dentist send him one of his cleaning tools.
It might at first seem ridiculous Washington would be so careful as to write a such an innocuous letter to his dentist in invisible ink, but Washington knew if the letter fell into the wrong hands it would provide British intelligence with the name of a pro-American dentist, as well as Washington's location — new Windsor, New York — in the return address. The British, in fact, did intercept the letter. Accounts differ as to the ramifications of its capture. Some say they were unable to read it, and that may have saved his dentist's life, some say they decoded it and were amused by its content, others say it provided valuable information as to Washington's whereabouts.
Whatever the case, Washington made ample use of invisible ink in secret messages during the American Revolution and even had an organized spy ring, the Culpers, to, among other duties, deliver those messages. George Washington's most important secrets, it seems, had nothing to do with the Freemasons.
Most
Freemasons know about two of our Brothers who founded successful,
even iconic restaurant chains. We hear lots of stories about the
deeds, Masonic and otherwise, of Colonel Harlan Sanders (Hugh Harris
Lodge 938, Corbin, Kentucky) and Dave Thomas (Sol. D. Bayless Lodge
359, Fort Wayne, Indiana). I don't have to tell you those two men
started, respectively, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Wendy's
Restaurants.
Did
you know there is a third Brother who belongs in that elite group?
Successful as he was, you may never have eaten at one of his
restaurants unless you live in a specific geographic region. Legend
has it that Bob Evans, founder of the restaurant chain bearing his
name, would never open a restaurant where it would take more than a
day to ship his "farm fresh" sausage by truck.
True
or not, sausage was Brother Bob Evans' claim to fame. When he
started a tiny diner in Gallipolis, Ohio in 1948 he was unable to get
enough sausage, so he started making his own on his farm nearby.
Over time, family and friends thought the sausage was so good, they
encouraged him to make a business of selling it. Made with the best
parts of the hog, however, restaurants and groceries judged his
high-quality product to be too expensive. Unable to sell enough
sausage elsewhere, Evans started his own restaurant chain, opening
the first location on his farm in 1962.
From
there, Evans expanded his culinary empire to become a $1.7 billion
retail food products company with 480 restaurants in 22 states.
Later, outside of his alleged delivery area, he purchased the Owens
restaurant chain, based in Texas.
Raised
in Morning Dawn Lodge #7 in Gallipolis, Ohio, Brother Evans was also
a member of the Scottish Rite, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, where
he received the 33°. Dedicated to the Masonic tenets of Brotherly
Love, Relief and Truth, Evans retired from the restaurant chain in
1986 to devote his life to humanitarian causes. He channeled his
energies to helping youth in the 4H and FFA organizations as well as
becoming a member of the Ohio Board of Regents where he supported
higher-education. He was tireless in his efforts for the Heart Fund,
the Ohio Society for the Prevention of Blindness, Arthritis
Foundation and Easter Seals among others.
Brother
Evans passed away in 2007 at the age of 89. Since his death his farm
near Rio Grande Ohio has been listed on the National Register of
Historic Places. The house is the home of the Homestead Museum which
features items from his life and the company he founded. Although a
big conglomerate has gobbled up his venerable restaurant chain, the
food hasn't changed and you can still feel the presence of Brother
Bob inside. The next time you're traveling through the Midwest, you
might run across one of its distinctive red and white buildings in
what is known as the"Steamboat Victorian" style. If you do
you might stop in and remember our Brother as you have the same kind
of meal he would have served you down on the farm years ago.
I've
seen it often — a candidate enters the Lodge room to receive his
Fellowcraft or Master Mason degree. In each, the Senior Deacon leads
the candidate around the room, stopping at stations for an
interrogation. The officers at those stations ask if the candidate
has made suitable proficiency in the preceding degree.
"He
has," replies the Senior Deacon… as he shakes his head "no."
Muffled snickering from around the room usually follows.
You
see, about 15 years ago my jurisdiction — Missouri — dropped the
requirement for proficiencies. Many of our Brothers considered that
decision to be the worst thing that had happened in our state since
the Pony Express went belly up; and it's not exactly breaking news
that the debate continues — those Senior Deacons aren't shaking
their heads for nothing.
I
recall receiving the pamphlet with the proficiencies when I became an
Entered Apprentice.
(Yes, in Missouri they're written down, in code, but still a
practice some consider heretical.) Discovering I had to memorize the
material gave the word "daunting" new meaning. Somehow,
though, I "manned-up" and learned them for all three
degrees.
Having
gone through the experience I consider it one of the highlights of my
Masonic journey. I spent time with my mentor who not only took me
through the rote memorization process, but also explained things
along the way. At the end, I felt a great sense of accomplishment. I
also found all that memory work paved the way for learning other
parts in the future. Frankly, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I'm
still not sure, however, where I fall in the debate we're still
having 15 years after the proficiencies went away. I think there is
a feeling that the lack of proficiencies increases membership; or
maybe a better way of putting that is having proficiencies might
scare some men away. I have to say, in all those years we haven't
had them, I've seen men come through who are some of the finest
Brothers I know. We wouldn't want to do without them. But would
they have joined anyway?
In
the end, I probably fall somewhere in the middle of the road. I
really think it should take more of a commitment to join the
fraternity than it does, say, to become a member of your local Public
TV station. We
should require new Brothers to demonstrate at least a knowledge of
signs, passwords and maybe even learn the obligation.
Going
through some old Missouri records recently I noticed one more
interesting fact to consider — historically, there were a lot of
Brothers who were initiated, passed and raised in a matter of days —
sometimes, in fact, on the same day. Meriwether Lewis, for example,
was initiated on January 28, 1797, and received his Second and Third
Degrees on the following evening. Obviously, he did not learn
"suitable proficiencies" in that time span.
Lewis
and many others who came into the fraternity that way served the
Craft well. Don't we become a little more proficient in Freemasonry
every day, with every meeting, every experience? Perhaps
we should look at proficiency as something other than memorizing a
boatload of material. To me, understanding
that material is proficiency, and it doesn't come overnight.
I
wonder what would happen the next time I'm asked if the candidate has
obtained suitable proficiency if I responded, "Define
proficiency."
