Fidelity, Masonry and Christmas — A Story

There it sat, wrapped in green paper with drawings of little candy canes, surrounded by a carefully-tied broad red ribbon. The smell of the cookies inside the package lingered in the air.

The Master’s wife had baked several dozen of the Christmas treats and put them into little parcels to be delivered to the widows of members of the Lodge. The Master had driven around to drop them off, along with a card and a holiday wish from their late husband’s brothers in Masonry. But one package remained on the dining room table.

“All of the guys jumped up and volunteered at the last meeting to take these to the widows, but I’m the only one who’s been doing it,” thought the Master to himself. “I know! I’ll call around and see who can deliver the last one.” He punched some numbers into his cell phone. The Senior Warden answered.

“Dave, it’s Rick,” said the Master cheerfully. “Mrs. Wilson’s cookies are over here and I was wondering if you could drop them off? We talked to her a few days ago and told her we’d do it tonight, and...”

“Yeah, I’d like to,” replied the Senior Warden, “but tonight’s a really bad night. You know Thursday’s my gaming night and I’m kicking ass.”

“Can’t you play some other night?”

“Not now. I’m the middle of this. Maybe tomorrow, if I’m not at a new level in a few hours.”

The Master thanked him and put a call in to the Junior Deacon.

“Steve, remember you said you could help deliver the widows’ Christmas presents? Mrs. Wilson’s is sitting here...”

“I’m sorry,” said the Junior Deacon. “I know I said that, but my office Christmas party is tonight and I have to go to that. The boss kind of expects it.”

“Can’t you say ‘no’ to him?”

“Well, you know he doesn’t have a high opinion of us to begin with because he wants me to work late all the time and I can’t if something with the Lodge is happening. Besides, drinks are free. Talk to you next meeting.”

The Junior Deacon hung up. Somewhat forlornly, the Master tried a few other members, all of whom had promised they would personally hand out gifts to the widows. But one was going out with some buddies that night. Another was too tired after work. Yet another said the widow lived too far out of the way for him. Still another had a concordant body meeting he wanted to go to. Finally, the Master tried the last person on his list, a Past Master of the Lodge.

“I need your help. Last meeting you said you’d help deliver the widow’s gifts. Mrs. Wilson’s is sitting here and...”

“Wilson?!” he interrupted. “Did you know her husband? He dumped on me the whole year I was in the chair. He kept giving me hell for all kinds of little things.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with his widow. It’s a Lodge tradition we go out and deliver...”

“And another thing,” butted in the Past Master. “Last meeting you came down to the altar at the wrong time. And you gave the wrong knocks to close the Lodge. Can’t you follow traditions? Don’t you pay attention at practices or know what’s in your ritual book?”

“We were talking about Mrs. Wilson...”

“Wilson. The hell with him.” With that the call went dead.

The Master prepared to pick up the lonely little parcel when the phone rang unexpectedly in the other room. He picked up the receiver.

“My name is Mrs. Lane,” the feeble old voice at the other end quavered. “I live next door to Gladys Wilson. I thought I’d better call you. She has been taken to the hospital.”

“What!?” answered the stunned Master.

“I had invited her over for dinner tonight, but she said she couldn’t come because she was waiting for the Masons. She got a little tired while waiting and went to call someone to see if there was a problem, but she slipped on the carpet and fell. I think she had been on the floor for awhile. It looks pretty serious. I thought I’d better call you.”

“My father was a Mason a long time ago,” Mrs. Lane went on. “He didn’t talk about it much, but all I know is when I was a girl during the Depression, the Masons helped us. One Christmas we had nothing. And there was about two feet of snow. But a bunch of the Masons came over with a tree and a huge baked turkey. They put up the tree and decorated it, then we ate the turkey and they sang Christmas carols to me and my three sisters until it was bedtime.

It was so wonderful. I learned then that when times are tough, you can depend on the Masons.”

“Thank you for calling me, Mrs. Lane,” said the Master.

“It’s just too bad someone didn’t get here a little earlier because this probably wouldn’t have happened,” added the old woman. “But God bless you Masons.”

“Yes, thanks again,” replied the Master, and gently hung up the phone.

And as the Master put on his jacket, and picked up the little wrapped parcel to take to the hospital in the clear, moon-lit evening, he wondered if the Masons today really were as dependable as their forefathers. Or, if the admonition of not letting “public and private avocations” interfere with Masonry had turned into nothing more than a convenient excuse.

(First published on the original version of this blog in 2008)

40 Years

Do I have any reflections on my Masonic birthday?

40 years ago tonight, I received my First Degree in my Mother Lodge. It was an Official Visit of the District Deputy so there was a fair-sized crowd. It was in this ugly cement block which has been torn down for a more attractive building (with lodge rooms that are too small).

There aren’t too many things I remember about the degree. One is being asked during the break in the ceremony by a visiting Past Master if I was nervous. I wasn’t. The ceremony was the same in format to the Initiatory Degree in DeMolay which I went through when I was 14. My application into the lodge was sponsored by two Senior DeMolays who were Provincial Chapter officers when I was Junior and Senior Councillor.

The second involves another Senior DeMolay I had known for years. He gave the lecture in the Northeast and went blank on the last line. It was the only time I ever saw him need a prompt.

The third was our Director of Ceremonies hauling me into the bathroom during the break and rather insistently going over the signs with me. I don’t believe I got them wrong, but I understand this was the procedure he did with every newly-obligated Entered Apprentice. It’s always been done that way, you know.

Over 40 years, I’ve done all kinds of things in Freemasonry. I never expected, or desired, to be Master of the lodge but ended up going through the chairs (work got in the way for a while) and finished my year by handing in the warrant. A list of more positive accomplishments over four decades in various Masonic bodies will bore you.

Looking back, my main thought is about those many, many brethren whom I met that have gone to wherever we go after we’re finished this life. They were all friendly and helpful. Some were quiet. Others were forceful in their opinions. Some were amazing and inspiring ritualists. Others couldn’t remember the work if you paid them. A few I strongly disagreed with and quit a lodge because of one situation that arose. Despite that I cannot think of any that I regret knowing. I’m sorry they aren’t around today to help the new members coming into the fraternity.

There is disappointment, too. There are members of my lodges that I have never met, even after all this time. They have their reasons for not attending meetings or social functions, I imagine, but they continue to maintain their memberships and contribute financially. I have spoken with some on the phone and all of them have told me they try to follow the principles of Freemasonry and are proud of their memberships. Then there are others who demit from the fraternity who are fine people and it’s a shame to lose them. I can name far too many. In a few cases I’ve been told the reasons but others remain a mystery, whether they’ve just lost interest or have a dispute with another Mason.

One must reflect forward as well. While it’s impossible to predict the future—other than the certainty of death—I hope to be able to help the young members of the Craft as they begin their journey, and hope they’ll be understanding with me even though I’m not patient at times with certain situations.

I highly doubt there will be a “next 40 years” but I want to continue to enjoy my membership and the fellowship it brings for as long as I can.

What Are You Doing About Prospective Members?

Last night, one of my lodges held its annual remembrance observance of our war dead. But that’s not what this post is about.

Six officers take part in the ceremony that we have used lately. Three of them were absent, so we threw in people with no notice. They did fine. But that’s not what this post is about, either.

What was significant, to me, was we had seven prospective Masons attend to witness it. These seven were not all from our lodge. Three of them came from two other lodges. I think that’s great.

But there’s something that’s bothersome.

Two of them showed up because I met them earlier this week after a function at the lodge they are looking at joining. I invited them. A third couldn’t come but two took me up on my offer. They would not have known about it otherwise, even though notification was sent to secretaries in the two local districts.

These men came on their own; no one in that lodge could find the time to accompany them.

Some of the local lodges have seen a jump in interest by young men. These lodges have various functions for potential Masons.

Why aren’t lodges coordinating their efforts to have their prospects come to each other’s events? They can meet more members of the fraternity, and talk with other would-be members about their interests and why they want to join.

Inter-lodge communication can be dreadful. Too many members don’t seem to have any clue what’s going on Masonically outside their own lodge. Nor do they seem to care. They’re “too busy” to visit, let alone coordinate events. But they don’t have a second thought of asking members of other lodges to bail them out on degree nights when they don’t have enough of their own officers to do the work.

I think we owe something to men who are prepared in the hearts who want to join our labours to show them as much about Freemasonry as we can. We can do that by talking and working together. If it happens, it doesn’t seem to happen often enough.

Note: the tiresome cliché “guarding the West Gate” was not used in this post.

Returning to the Fold

There are times when members stop coming to lodge meetings. In some cases they move. In others, they change jobs. In others, they start families and that takes up their time. There are unfortunate cases where a brother disagrees with another brother and walks away.

Then there are times when, happily for all concerned, a member comes back to the lodge.

I heard about two situations the same day last week.

One involves a new Master Mason. He is a younger guy who expressed an interest in joining the fraternity, though he knew nobody in it. He stuck around through COVID when lodges were prohibited by government law from meeting. He finally got his degrees when the virus subsided enough and took a minor office in the lodge.

Then his job changed. Suddenly, he was expected to do a lot of work in the evenings and couldn’t attend meetings. The lodge didn’t see him any more. You get a little concerned when this happens and you don’t hear from the member.

However, after a year away, he sent a note to the lodge saying his job had changed again and he was no longer working into the evening and could attend again. He came to the last lodge meeting, agreed to take part in the coming installation ceremony and resume his old office.

The other situation involves a Past Master of another lodge. He had been part of a group 20-plus years ago that affiliated with a dying lodge to revitalise it (that lodge is functioning today with a small but growing group with excellent young members). He rose through the Wardens chairs to the East but left soon afterward due to distance and joined a lodge closer to where he lived.

Unfortunately, he and a “high ranking Mason” got into a disagreement that ballooned and he quit. He remained demitted for a number of years. He has now retired and moved to a small town halfway across the country. He’s looking for a pleasant social outlet. Time has healed some wounds and he has put in an application to rejoin the fraternity in a nearby lodge. He was an excellent Master (and First Principal), extremely well organised, and enjoyed doing the longer lectures. He’ll be a fine addition to their ranks.

I have to laugh at anti-Masons who claim the fraternity is a cult. If so, we’re the only one that suspends members for non payment of dues. We also don’t force people to show up. If they can’t, or they don’t want to, they don’t. But it’s good to hear when members do want to be part of our friendly fellowship, especially when they decide to return.

The Grand Secretary Has Been Shot

As a Past Grand Historian in the Craft and Grand Historian in the Royal Arch, I enjoy digging around and finding out things about brethren of long ago.

Back in the time 100-plus years ago when fraternal and benefit orders were part of the social fabric in North America, newspapers kept readers informed about Freemasons and Freemasonry, depending on the story (I’ve had my fill of coverage of Lodge dances in the 1920s where everyone attending was listed). One of the Washington D.C. papers offered a full page on Sundays with lodge news from across the country.

Among the odd tales I’ve stumbled upon by accident is the one involving the shooting of a Grand Secretary. Let’s face it. Grand Secretaries aren’t shot every day.

This is a wire service story republished in the Seattle Post-Intellegencer of Dec. 28, 1900. R.W. Bro. William Henry Smythe was born on a farm in Putnam County, Indiana, on July 2, 1846, was wed on Oct. 4, 1870 and became Grand Secretary in 1878.

PROMINENT MASON SERIOUSLY SHOT.
WAS FOUND IN A POOL OF BLOOD IN HIS OFFICE.
Stated That a Blonde Woman Had Fired the Shots Upon Being Refused Use of Victim’s Telephone—Theory of Attempted Suicide
INDIANAPOLIS, Ind., Dec. 27.—William H. Smythe, secretary of the Grand Masonic lodge of this state, was shot in the head in his office, in the Masonic building shortly after noon today.
Mr. Smythe says a woman did the shooting, but the police have been unable so far to locate her. It is thought he cannot live.
Lewis A. Coleman, an attorney, found Mr. Smythe shortly after he was shot. He went to Mr. Smythe’s office, in the Masonic building, and found Mr. Smythe lying in a pool of blood on the floor. Mr. Coleman said he detected the smell of gunpowder the moment he stepped into the room.
The wounded man was in a semi-conscious condition, but was able at intervals to utter a few coherent words. The police asked Mr. Smythe to tell who did the shooting, and he told them his son would give them the information. He was able to say, however, that he was seated at his desk when a blonde woman entered his office and asked to use the telephone. He said she had been in several times before, and that the last call irritated him and he refused her request. He claimed that after he refused her the use of the telephone she drew a revolver from the bosom of her dress, and fired.
Woman Seems a Myth.
Shortly after the tragedy Dr. Elmer Smythe, the son referred to, came in. He insisted that he knew nothing of the woman or the shooting.
A surgeon was called immediately after the shooting, and when he arrived he began probing for the bullet. The wound was directly behind the right ear, and in a short time pieces of the bullet were found and extricated, Soon after the shooting Mr. Smythe asked for his son Elmer and requested that all leave the room for a few minutes, which was done. Later he said his son would give them the name of the woman and all about her. The son persisted in his statement that he knew nothing of her.
An attempt was made to locate the woman at the Lorraine, hut inquiry developed the fact that there was or had been no woman connected with the hotel who could have done the shooting.
Suicide Theory Advanced.
When a search for the woman who is said to have done the shooting failed to reveal any trace of her, the theory was advanced that Mr. Smythe had attempted to take his own life. The persons who advanced the theory say it is strengthened by the fact that within the last year Mr. Smythe had threatened to take his own life.
His son said that while his father would be very despondent at times during the past year, he was unwilling to believe that he had attempted his own life.
At the home of Mr. Smythe it was impossible to find any clue to the woman who he said did the shooting.
Mr. Smythe is widely known in Indianapolis. He came to this city twenty-five years ago, from Greencastle, to take the position of the secretary of the Masonic Grand lodge of Indiana, a position which he filled to the present time. He is one of the best-known Masons in the state, and is highly esteemed.
Early in the summer Mr. Smythe received a sunstroke which incapacitated him from work. In fact, he has never recovered.

R.W. Bro. Smythe survived the shooting but did not live much longer. He died on August 5, 1902. As you can see by his death certificate, the shooting didn’t kill him. The Indianapolis Journal reports he had resigned as Grand Secretary in February 1901. One of the wire services spread word that the mystery woman in the shooting case had been arrested but was unidentified. I’ve found no evidence that happened, and the Journal’s obituary story said the case remained unsolved.

Did Your Lodge Have One of Those Nights?

Frederick Opper was known for his Happy Hooligan cartoons a century ago. The comic's name underwent a number of name changes. At one time, the Sunday full-page strip was called "Down on the Farm."

Here is his Sunday (Saturday in Canada) strip for the weekend of May 6-7, 1922. The satiristic fraternal group featured in this one has plumed hats like the American Knights Templar. I don't know if Opper was a Mason, but the scenario here is amusing.

You can click on it to enlarge it.

What Are We? Why Are We?

Occasionally, I hear brethren moaning about Masonic papers given in Lodge, and not really for the right reason.
The problems with Masonic papers are these:
● Static. A paper is an extremely dull presentation. Someone just stands there and reads. The audience is passive and not actively involved. They’re just listening.
● Length. While the topic itself may be interesting, listeners can easily zone out if the presentation goes too long. Even Shakespeare didn’t have half-hour soliloquies.
● Delivery. Not everyone is a singer; some people are monotones. Not everyone is an actor; watch the performances of ‘50s low-budget sci-fi films for proof. And not everyone is a narrator. They may not realise they sound like they’re reading, or that they blandly drone on. Even worse is when the person mispronounces words. It’s not easy getting a message across if it sounds like you know don’t what you’re talking about.

But that isn’t the problem some moan about. Instead, they gripe about the age of the paper. “Why aren’t there any new papers? Who wants to hear that old stuff?” they grumble.

Such an attitude seems somewhat odd, given these same members come to meetings and sit (or take part in) ceremonies that are at least 200 years old. Why, if the thoughts in the paper are well-formulated, or provocative, and relevant, does it matter when they were written? Let’s face it. Freemasonry has been around a long time and our forefathers must have contemplated on our Craft the same as we do today.

With that it mind, I stumbled across a paper I posted on a Masonic mailing list in 1998. It’s a portion of an address given in 1926 by the Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of British Columbia, Alex Manson. Alex was a country lawyer who became a Member of the Legislature and, later, Attorney General. He was well-respected and liked in his day, which is more than can be said about some politicians and/or lawyers today.

Not only are Alex’s thoughts worth reading again, his language is elegant but simple, which is certainly a lost art in this age.

Grand Master’s Address

There is a convincing proof that within Freemasonry, there is "something" that will not let us go. One asks what is that "something" and one recalls that historically Freemasonry is "an ancient and honourable institution." True, indeed, from an historical and a literary standpoint one may find that Freemasonry has contributed much in the affairs of men. But it is not for us to boast of the ancient and honourable character of our Institution unless we can say with truth that Freemasonry today as we live it and know it is honourable and worthy of the lineage of which it is sprung. It is for us to see to it that Freemasonry of our time is of consequence. One has no respect for the loose and idle son who boasts of his blood. We rather feel he should blush in shame for his unworthiness. By worthy life and worthy life alone can one justify a boast of his noble forbears. And so with us as Freemasons.

In thinking of our institution, we recall that it is a "beautiful system of morality, veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols". How apt and delightful a definition and yet sometimes misinterpreted by the Brethren. There are those who say of Freemasonry that it is their creed, their religion, that the Lodge is their Church. There is nothing in Freemasonry which warrants any such statement. Freemasonry, beyond all questions, is religious. It cannot be otherwise - found as it upon the Volume of the Sacred Law. But it is not a creed nor is the Lodge a substitute for the Church. Freemasonry should not countenance the flying of false colours. It is indeed a beautiful system of morality, veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols - and hidden away in the heart of its teachings and tenets there is something that draws the Brethren to it.

What is that something? Let us search for it.

In searching, let us consider: why do Lodges meet? It is for the purpose of merely making in a mechanical way Freemasons — of adding to the numerical strength of the Craft? Surely not. It is for a far nobler purpose. A rap comes upon the outer door, a stranger seeks admission to our Lodge. If it be that the stranger has gained admittance, then the Lodge has in hand its greatest duty — the moulding of the Masonic character of the stranger; the duty of taking the warp and woof of the stranger's character and weaving it into those silken threads which, when the rest are all falling away in decay, will still stand out unbroken — the silken threads of kindly thoughts, of noble deeds.

The stranger is, to the Master, the gentle twig which he may bend, and as he bends the twig, the bough will grow in afteryears. The stranger, if he is the man he ought to be, kneels in awe and reverence, with heart laid bare, and it is to the Master to inscribe on his heart faithfully, quietly, indelibly those great moral principles which are the fabric of our teachings. The Brethren within the Lodge room, too, have their part. They can create the atmosphere for the Master to labour in. So much depends on atmosphere. There is not a single member who cannot add to the solemnity of the occasion. What is there in life greater than the opportunity to mould for the better the character of our fellow men.

The stranger having become one of us, let us again consider the Freemasonry which we live. Is it a Freemasonry of the Lodge room, something that we take off as a garment and leave with the Tyler when the Lodge is closed? Something for tonight and again of a night two weeks or a month from now? If so, then Freemasonry is a hypocrisy and a humbug, the grossest waste of time. If it is something just by the way of social contact, then why all the frills and frumpery? Social contact has its place in our Fraternity, but it is not the heart of the matter. It is only part of greater things.

If Freemasonry then is not of the Lodge room alone, what is its extent? What of outside the Lodge room; what is Freemasonry then? Tomorrow, I stand behind the counter in my shop — one comes in the door — I recognise him, I have sat in Lodge with him, he is a Brother in the Craft. I know that with him there must be square dealing. I shall not cheat, wrong or defraud a Brother. A second one comes in — I know him not — have never sat with him in Lodge. He is not of the Craft. How shall I deal with him? May I, with smirking countenance, rub my hands and say "I owe no special duty to this passing stranger. 'Caveat emptor', shall I say, and if I can make anan extra penny it is my privilege." Brethren, this ought not to be. There are not two codes of morality in Freemasonry. There is but one. Fair dealing and square conduct should be the code of Freemasons toward all mankind.

Brethren, Freemasonry is a wonderful thing — it has a great and rare opportunity. Let our Freemasonry not be of the Lodge room alone, but let it be of today and tomorrow, even to the setting of the sun.