Monday, June 12, 2017

Take this Spatula

I am fairly tired of online rants about What's Wrong With Masonry These Days (there are only so many ways to complain about reading minutes and lack of Masonic education, after all) but this  instantly struck me as a perfect encapsulation of why "pancake breakfast Masonry" is so frustrating to newer members who join expecting something deeper and richer:

Monday, February 17, 2014

The Happy Reflection Consequent on a Well-Spent Life

It is perhaps appropriate that my first post in nearly 3 years is on the subject of age.  On seeing how long it has been since I posted, my immediate thought was, "we cannot without astonishment behold the little particles contained within this machine; how they pass away almost imperceptibly, and yet, to our surprise, in the short space of an hour, they are all exhausted."

Much has happened during those three years; I am currently serving in my second term as Master of my Lodge - a subject for a completely different post, which will probably wait until after I am relieved from that position.  I also find myself no longer comfortably in my mid-30s but nearing my 40th birthday.  I like to think that I don't obsess about milestones as much some, but that number, 40, is sobering.  During the last year or so, when I realize that some remembered event happened not "about a year ago" but ten years ago, the realization is accompanied by a small feeling of panic at how those years have slipped away, and how likely the next 10, 20, or 30 will slip away just as quickly.  Again, probably a subject for a separate post - one that I may not bother to write because the topic of "white male entering middle age" is a horse that been beaten to death, buried, exhumed, and whacked a few more times for good measure.

For the last month or so I have been preparing to confer the Master Mason degree, which deals quite a bit with the topics of mortality and what we leave behind when we die.  Amidst all this reflection on the passage of time, aging, and death, it was a pleasure to read Roger Angell's New Yorker essay, This Old Man.  Angell is 93 years old, and his essay is a poignant but encouraging look at many of these questions.  Particularly relevant to Master Masons is this paragraph, where he talks about the list of acquaintances he once knew who have died before him:
My list of names is banal but astounding, and it’s barely a fraction, the ones that slip into view in the first minute or two. Anyone over sixty knows this; my list is only longer. I don’t go there often, but, once I start, the battalion of the dead is on duty, alertly waiting. Why do they sustain me so, cheer me up, remind me of life? I don’t understand this. Why am I not endlessly grieving?
I have not been a Mason for very long; barely six years.  Yet in that time I have attended the funerals of a number of well-loved Brothers... some were elderly Brothers who departed after lengthy illnesses.  Their death was sad, but also came with a sense of relief for their families and Masonic Brothers. One was a first cousin, twice removed; a man who was like the kid brother my grandfather never had, always a delight to talk to at family gatherings... I had no idea he was a Brother until I saw the program the day before his Memorial service.  It was my privilege to join his lodge in conducting an evergreen service.  One was for a Brother, a pillar of his lodge, whose death at age 42 was a complete shock to all of us.  I can't say that I knew any of them very well (even my cousin, to my chagrin) but when you see how much they meant to their families, and the Brothers who knew them well, that almost doesn't matter.

One of the most valuable things about Masonry is the way it provides us not only with a framework of symbols to help us deal with the death of friends and loved ones, but a continuum of Brotherhood across the years, decades and centuries.   It teaches us, both in its lessons as well as its practice, that death is a part of life, and that the best we can do is to make the most of the life we are given, and to celebrate the lives of those who have gone before us.

Monday, May 16, 2011

A Master Builder by Any Other Name

The Grand Lodge of Iowa has something called the Master Builder Program, which encourages new Masons to get involved in their lodges by giving them a checklist of tasks to complete... on successfully achieving these milestones, the new Brother earns the title of Master Builder, and in the process has gotten actively engaged in his lodge instead of disappearing after the 3rd degree.

The Grand Lodge of Massachusetts has a very similar program, which is indeed very effective at getting new Brothers involved even in lodges that don't always do the best job of following through with them. In Massachusetts, though, a Brother who works through the list of requirements earns the title of Masonic Rookie. Which would you rather be called?

Monday, March 7, 2011

On the subject of dues (or, Beating a Dead Horse)

The Petersham Curling Club charges $390 per year, or $32.50 per month, for membership. This for a casual sporting club that does not make any of the lofty claims our Masonic recruiting materials often do... no 'making good men better,' no 'Curlers give $2 million a day to charity,' no 'George Washington and Benjamin Franklin were curlers too!' But clearly, the passion is there because members pay those dues year after year, and take advantage of all of the privileges that their membership affords them.

My mother lodge's dues, in contrast, work out to $7.30 per month, and that's after they were raised a couple of years ago. After dues went up, we got an angry letter from one Brother who now lives in another part of the country, assuming there had to have been a mistake in his dues bill. When told that no, dues had indeed gone up, he immediately asked for a demit, stating flatly that "$88.00 per year is too much for Blue Lodge dues. I pay less than that to belong to the Shrine."

If my lodge's dues jumped to $390 per year, I'd feel a pinch for sure - but I would find a way to pay it because being a Mason, and participating in my lodge, are that valuable to me. Imagine what your lodge would be like if everyone who belonged placed as much value on their membership as curlers do!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Like the Precious Oil Upon on the Head

It was my privilege last week to visit not one but two lodges under the jurisdiction of the Grand Lodge of Free & Accepted Masons of New York, both of which meet in the magnificent Grand Lodge building on West 23rd Street in the Flatiron district of Manhattan.

I toured the Grand Lodge building in 2007, while still waiting to take the first degree, and although I had done some reading and knew something about the arrangement and significance of the furniture in each lodge room, I was still very much an outsider.

When I stepped into the anteroom of the Ionic room last night before the meeting of St. John's Lodge No. 1, there was a palpable charge of anticipation about the room that simply wasn't there when I walked around it as a profane tourist 3 1/2 years ago. The pre-ritual ritual of Brothers filing into their lodge and greeting one another warmly is the same whether you're in a dense city or in a remote country lodge, and it's the same whether you're a member or a Brother traveling in a foreign country.

What we do is profoundly special. How many other organizations give you the ability to walk into a room as a complete stranger in a faraway city at the start of the evening and part with bear-hugs at the end of the night? When it's done right, Freemasonry is just an amazing thing. As every Entered Apprentice is told, it conciliates true friendship among those who might otherwise have remained at a perpetual distance, but too often Brothers never set foot outside of their district, or even their own lodge. Even as a dedicated officer or active Brother, it's far too easy to get worn down by the grind of nuts-and-bolts Freemasonry and the petty intrigues of your local Masonic community.

When you travel both literally and Masonically, you experience a fascinating juxtaposition. Physically you find yourself hundreds or thousands of miles from your home, friends, and family. Even if it's a place you've been before, it's not home. You're out of your element, on your own... but if you find a lodge in that foreign place, you will be met with slight guardedness which quickly gives way to sincere fraternal affection once you're duly examined to the Lodge's satisfaction.

Once the lodge is tyled and the meeting starts, you realize that it doesn't matter where you are. A well-governed lodge at work exists out of time and space, and distinctions of geography aren't important. It's an important reminder of the universality of Freemasonry, and a great way to recharge your Masonic batteries.