The Golden Fleece, Roman Eagle, Star and Garter

 

One of the first things a newly initiated Brother learns about Freemasonry is the fact that his apron is, "more ancient than the Golden Fleece or Roman Eagle, and more honorable than the Star and Garter." The new initiate, who even in the Entered Apprentice Degree, kneels stunned and overwhelmed by an avalanche of information may just let that blow past him. It's not a real stretch to think many of our new Brothers have never heard of those things.

The point is to impress on the EA that his apron is the valuable, treasured, and even sacred badge of a Freemason. Knowing the… provenance… of those terms, however, makes the claim of the apron's worth even more meaningful.

The Golden Fleece is, in fact, the fleece of a golden-winged ram named Chrysomallos. The fleece itself is a symbol of the authority of a king. It plays a major role in the myth of Jason and the Argonauts. In that ancient tale, Pelias, King of the Greek city or Provence Iolcus, sends Jason on a quest where he (spoiler alert) retrieves the Golden Fleece. When he returns home with it, a nasty soap opera of power and intrigue follows. The myth may date as early as 1800 B.C. with more modern versions appearing by 300 B.C. In 1430, Phillip of Burgundy declined to accept the Order of the Garter and Created the Order of the Golden Fleece, based on the story of Jason. It eventually became the most prestigious of all the knightly orders in Europe.

It may be easier for the new Brother to conjure up a mental picture and meaning of the Roman Eagle. It is, in fact… an eagle, or, in Latin, aquilla. Usually cast in metal with a bronze color, it commonly sits with wings spread, many times perched above a plate engraved with the letters "SPQR," standing for Senatus Populesque Romanus – The Senate and the Roman People. In ancient Rome the eagle symbolized many things including imperial rule, but probably most significantly it was the symbol of a Roman military legion. Special standard bearers carried the eagle on a staff into battle and protected it with their lives. The loss of an eagle in battle was considered a grave tragedy. Early in the history of Rome, several animals served symbolically along with the aquilla, but by about 100 B.C. the eagle remained as the single national symbol.

The significance of the Star and Garter is much more obscure to someone unfamiliar with it. The reference is actually to The Most Noble Order of the Garter, an honor King Edward III established in England in 1348, and dedicated it to the Virgin Mary. It is the highest British civil and military honor. The King or Queen has the exclusive power to select its members. Membership includes England's sovereign, the Prince of Wales and 24 additional living members. Honorary memberships are also available apparently in order to minimize hurt feelings among the gentry. Members actually wear a garter – men around the left calf and women around the left arm – inscribed, "Honi soit qui mal y pense," a middle-French term meaning, "Shame on him who thinks evil of this." They also wear a star-shaped badge on the left side of a coat.

When our ritual compares the Masonic apron to the Golden Fleece or Star and Garter, it is most likely a direct reference to the honors of the orders named for them, dating back to the 14^th and 15^th centuries respectively. It must be left to Masonic historians to determine which of all of these is more ancient, but, for our purposes, there is no reason to doubt the correctness of our ritual.

The claim that a Freemason's apron is more honorable than the Star and Garter puts it in high standing indeed. While the Order of the Garter remains today a prestigious award, and has been held by many great individuals including some Brothers like Winston Churchill, it is also based on nepotism and given to some who have done nothing more deserving than to be born into the right family. It demands unswerving loyalty to England's monarch and in many instances has been revoked. In fact, it may interest you to know that no less than 36 Knights of the Garter have been beheaded.

The DDGL

 

It was a Lodge's nightmare… both the District Deputy Grand Lecturer and Regional Grand Lecturer were in attendance. Also a visitor at that meeting, I sat next to the two dignitaries and thought, "The officers better be on their toes. This could get ugly."

It went better than I expected but at one point during the meeting the DDGL leaned over to the RGL and whispered, "The Senior Warden said, 'You will advance to the West and communicate the password...' It should be, 'You will approach the West...' Should we stop them and say something?"

The RGL shook his head, "No… they got there."

I'm with the RGL: I am not a hard-core ritualist – and that's blasphemy in some circles. Don't get me wrong. I like a well-done ritual as much as the next guy; but I care more about whether the ceremony comes off well than if a Brother says "this" when he should say "that." I know… I'll never be a DDGL.

And don't even get me started on the guys in the "peanut gallery" who start yelling out the next line any time the speaker has more than a two-second pause. I'm not alone in that. I've been in Lodge when the Master appointed a proctor with the admonition, "I don't want to hear a word out of anyone else." I'm big on proctors.

I bring all this up because each year my Lodge tests for one of the ritual awards my Grand Lodge sponsors. The District Deputy Grand Lecturer attends and grades us on our opening and closing. The last time we did this the guys were well-practiced and the ceremony went like clockwork.

I just sat there thinking how enjoyable it is to be in any of our ceremonies – especially degree work – when things just click along. That, as opposed to the living hell of sitting through the same thing when the speakers are ill-prepared and have to be prompted on every line. Sitting through an opening like that is the only time I actually look forward to getting to the reading of the minutes.

So, congrats to my Brothers at Liberty Lodge #31. They got the award.

Oh, there were mistakes. There are ALWAYS mistakes. I knew our perfect score was gone as the Chaplain, asking God to subdue our discordant passions, prayed, "Grant that the sublime principles of Freemasonry may so subdue every insubordinate passion within us…"

See, I just let that roll right off my back. In fact, I thought it was kind of funny. Unfortunately, the DDGL – you know, the guy keeping score – was not amused.