Suspended NPD — for Twenty-Five Years!

Over the years I've seen my Lodge and other Masonic bodies deal with members who don't pay their dues in a variety of ways. It seems there has been a progression of sorts requiring less and less of a financial effort for a Brother to return. Years ago I recall the NPD Brother had to pay the dues for each year missed, plus the current year's dues, to become a member in good standing once again. Then there was a period when the member in arrears had to pay just last year's and current year's dues. Now, for one of the bodies where I am a member, a Brother can re-join just by paying the current year's dues. If things keep going this way I guess we'll have to pay them to come back.

Of course, these men are our Brothers and we do, in fact, want them back; and there are good reasons why some don't pay — hardship and illness being at the top of the list. Every Masonic body I belong to always takes that into consideration and I have seen many meetings where understanding members remit the dues of a Brother who simply cannot pay.

Still, I think we're pretty lenient with NPD. My personal opinion is we probably should be. I mean, how many times have we heard it... "It's easier to keep the members you have than to go out and get new ones."

With all that in mind, I ran across something that really made me do a double-take — make that a triple-take.

I was going through records kept by a 19th century Grand Secretary in Missouri when I came across a list of suspensions for Missouri Lodge No. 1. The first half dozen entries were for a group of Brothers suspended July 2, 1868, for non-payment of dues. The first line made note that Brother William Stewart was suspended NPD for a period of five years.

"Wow," I thought, "five years — that's pretty stiff."

No, it turns out Brother Stewart got off easy. The next four entries were for members suspended for periods of 20 or 25 years. Twenty-five years for NPD! Now, that sends a message.

The sixth entry was for Brother Maximilian Eller, suspended for a period of 10 years. This line also contained a note that Brother Eller came back after the 10-year suspension ended and paid his dues.

In those records there were other Brothers suspended for 25 years, which seemed to be more or less the standard; but beginning in 1872, with only two exceptions, NPD suspension penalties were: "until paid."

So apparently, "until paid" became the new standard. One of those original six Brothers, Charles Eager, may have heard about this. Originally suspended for 20 years, the records indicate he returned in 1876 and made restitution. It's not too much of a stretch to imagine he went back to Missouri No. 1 and said, "Hey, look, I got a pretty harsh suspension for NPD but today you're letting guys off the hook if they just pay up. How about cutting me a little slack, too?"

I doubt he used that exact phraseology but they did, in fact, let him back in.

I have to conclude somewhere along the way Missouri No. 1 decided its penalties for NPD were excessive, and backed off. It's also possible the Grand Lodge somehow stepped in with different standards. Whatever the case, at that point those standards became more closely aligned with those we have today. We may never know why they made that change but it's possible they, too, discovered "it's easier to keep the members you have than to go out and get new ones." 

A Little Get-Together

Each year in May when I make my annual pilgrimage to the Indianapolis 500 – a near-religious experience – my journey takes me through the Champagne-Urbana, Illinois region. There, in recent years, I've taken that opportunity to meet with friends from the area. We have lunch, share the experiences of the past year, exchange ideas and maybe even tell a tall tale or two. Freemasons all, the conversation usually has a lot to do with the state of the Craft, whether in our local lodges or with other Masonic issues in general.

Our small group consists of Todd Creason, Greg Knott, yours truly and this year, for the first time, Darrin Lahners joined us. While Freemasonry struggles with membership issues, our exclusive “order” has grown by 33%.

Todd is the founder of the Midnight Freemasons blog. He has written a slew of books on Freemasonry including three novels where some of the characters are Brothers, and has been named a Fellow in the Missouri Lodge of Research. Greg is a Past Master of St. Joseph Lodge 970 in St. Joseph, Illinois and is a director of the prestigious Masonic Society. Darrin just served as Master of St. Joseph Lodge 970 and this coming year will be Master of Homer Lodge 199. Darrin has written about some tough issues he faced as Master this year and the fact he's out to do it again at Homer emphasizes his dedication to the fraternity. That doesn't even serve as a “Reader's Digest” version of what these men have accomplished. Their full biographies can be found at www.midnightfreemasons.org/.

These Brothers are so dynamic, enthusiastic and have had so many successes I'm sometimes surprised to find they run into the same issues I encounter; but they do. We share those issues and try to work out what solutions and suggestions we can in the space of an hour or so.

I really look forward to this little get-together. It's nothing earthshaking. We're not going to solve the problems of the world in the small amount of time we have. Maybe its greatest significance is there are three – make that four guys – different ages, different backgrounds, different geographical regions getting together. If not for the bond of Freemasonry this wouldn't happen. I wouldn't know any of them and, although Darrin, Greg and Todd work at the same place they wouldn't know each other as well or perhaps at all.

I've seen this kind of thing happen a lot. We are a band of Brothers with common experiences and obligations. Knowing we share the tenets of Freemasonry brings us together like magnets. Just seeing that square and compasses pin on a lapel makes us want to know more about the man wearing it. It's not just a conversation piece; it represents the strong bond of Brotherhood.

This year's meeting came and went all too quickly. We finished our meal, posed for our mandatory photo and went our separate ways. Across the parking lot from the others, I barely could hear one of them say, “Meeting adjourned.”

That is until next year, God willing.

The Skirret

One aspect of our ancient Craft that fits right into this so-called Age of Diversity is the fact that our various rituals are nothing if not diverse. All I have to do to find a ritual that looks strange to me is to drive just a few miles west into Kansas (no offense, Kansas).

Rather than gripe about the potential for this to add to any "confusion among the Craft" I think it's better to look at it from the point of view that, like most diversity, it makes things more interesting.

That said, there is a certain ritualistic continuity here in the US through which we all "recognize" the degree work in spite of the fact that a Steward may hold his rod differently in one jurisdiction than he does in another. Years back, however, I saw a group of Brothers from the United Kingdom perform a Third Degree. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around some of that.

I found something fascinating in the Emulation Rite practiced in the UK and elsewhere: a "new" working tool. In the words of Otha Wingo, a Past Master and Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research, "The Emulation Rite surprises us with three Working Tools for this degree: the Skirret, the Pencil, and the Compasses."

The Pencil and Compasses: I get that. The Skirret: never heard of it.

I just had to know what that was. Go ahead… Google it and depending on which one of the accepted spellings you use, you'll wind up with a biography of actor Tom Skerritt… or a vegetable of the same name. Believe me, it's hard to find. The Internet may not be your best source for obscure and archaic working tools.

Still, a little perseverance paid off.

A Skirret is a wooden tool shaped like the letter "T" — about halfway down the vertical stake is another piece of wood parallel to the one at the top. The two wooden cross-pieces are connected by a dowel at each end. A long piece of string is wound around the dowels.

(And if the paragraph above doesn't prove "a picture is worth a thousand words," nothing will).

When in use, the craftsman unwinds the long piece of string from its spindle and uses it to lay out the design of the structure being built. It acts on a center pin from which a line is drawn out to mark the ground in the fashion of a chalk line:

"The Skirret is an implement which acts on a centre pin, whence a line is drawn to mark out ground for the foundation of the intended structure."

In certain instances, with the spindle as the center, it is also handy for drawing a large circle.

The Skeritt's symbolism is fairly straightforward: it represents the straight, true and undeviating conduct we must use to lay out the course of our lives in our pursuit of more light:

"...the Skirret points out that straight and undeviating line of conduct laid down for our pursuit in the Volume of Sacred Law."

So there you have it: the Skirret — a working tool so ancient it's not only not in use today, but it's also almost forgotten; yet brand new to many of us in the United States.

And, I might add, now among my favorites.