Courtesy Work

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.

Anothe Day, Another Cliché

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."

Was Jesus an Operative Mason?

 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.

Unsung Heroes

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.

Respect

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.

I did it out of respect.

Occult Forces

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.

The Pony Express

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.