The Tao of Masonry

It’s some kind of rule  in New England that we need a Masonic Mardis Gras; that is, a break from wearing the formal suits to lodge for at least one evening, and instead, dress up in the most garish costumes that seem to be specifically designed to emphasize our expanding waistlines by covering our upper bodies with bright colors and ridiculous prints.

That’s right, I’m talking about Hawaiian Shirt Night. It wouldn’t be summer in New England if a lodge didn’t have a Hawaiian Shirt Night. That is, except for those lodges that have Hawaiian Shirt Nights during the winter.

We didn’t have a luau for dinner, but we did have hot dogs, burgers, and barbecued chicken.

Maybe the purpose of the  shirts is to hide the barbecue sauce and ketchup?

A1: The lights never went out in my year!
A2: Hey, my grandfather donated that light bulb!
A3: Why should we change it? It always worked before.
A4: Light bulb? In my year, all we had were candles.

Once a year, on the second Tuesday of December, the Past Masters of Friendship Lodge No. 33, along with the Past Masters of Harmony No. 20 of New Britain (which merged with Friendship back in the 1990s), and any other Past Master that happens to be within asking range gather together for an evening of complaining conviviality and story-telling, and of course, eating and drinking.

Friendship Lodge Past Master’s Dinner 2008

Like many new Masons, I figured that all lodges were like Friendship, and I had some eye-opening moments when I started visiting and really watching what happens in some other lodges. In Friendship Lodge, those “old Past Masters” do not sit around the lodge hemming and harrumphing, complaining about the state of ritual or how things were done “back in my year.” And we are very fortunate in that we only “repeat” a Past Master through the chairs about once every 25 or 30 years – a fact to which I can attest, having checked the dates once.

Oh, there’s no question that some of our PMs are active. Sometimes one will stay on as a Chaplain, and we always have them serving as a Treasurer and Secretary. Our PMs run the Trowel Club picnics and several other functions. The most recent PM is usually the Trowel Club President, and will take charge of the Past Master degree (usually a MM degree held in the fall). And the next to last PM gets stuck running the annual Past Master’s Dinner.

Because our lodge is active, we do like to joke that the PMs are no longer needed; at each annual dinner, we award the outgoing WM with a new name tag which he is to wear after the next WM is installed. It symbolizes the esteem in which he will be held as a new PM.

It’s a Friendship Lodge badge, with the name section left blank. His new title becomes “Worshipful Nobody.”

Yes, of course it’s a joke – but there is a certain poignancy to this. For one thing, it takes several months just to get used to people addressing you as “Worshipful;” whenever I heard that title, I kept looking around for somebody else. For another thing, many of us who have served as the WM of a lodge – especially an active lodge like ours – you have a very full year, what with all the programs, meetings, visiting, degrees, dinners, and the constant phone calls and emails from people who need to check in, ask an opinion, get permission, or ask questions. You are the center of attention, most of it good, for an entire year – generally starting about 10 minutes after your installation ceremony. People look to you and look up to you for twelve solid, non-stop months.

And then, suddenly, it all stops.

I can well understand that some PMs may try to recapture a bit of that sense of importance by nitpicking ritual, or by reminding people of the customs and traditions which they, the PMs observed. In lodges that do not have a constant inflow of new officers, PMs always have an opportunity to fill in a chair, but in active lodges, I wonder how many PMs simply drop out of sight after a few years, from feeling as if they they have nothing further to contribute?

Every year, the next-to-junior Past Master of Friendship Lodge gets the the unenviable task of gathering together a large group of his predecessors for the purpose of putting on a Master Mason degree. We typically hold two sets of degrees, one in early spring and one in the fall, and the Past Master’s degree is performed at the Master’s discretion. Some choose to do it early to give them more time to study for their own degree.

If you’re having deja vu, it’s because I first wrote that two years ago, and again last year. This is obviously a sign that I’ve been blogging too long.

Last year, we did this degree in the Fall. This year, we did it in the spring because the WM has slacked off needs more time to prepare before he can do it well. I understand; the MM degree is long, and Friendship Lodge adds another dramatic section to the Connecticut version of the Hiramic Legend, which adds to the memory work. In our state, some lodges choose to add sections to the degree that give more background, which helps the candidates to better appreciate the lessons of the story. A number of them add the same section that we do, and one of my lodges, Frederick-Franklin 14, adds yet another section which serves to give even more insight into the character of Hiram Abiff.

Anyone who has run an event comprised of all Past Masters can well understand the metaphor “like herding cats.” Some check their email daily, some weekly, some never. Some were going to be gone for the scheduled week, probably because it was close to the Memorial Day holiday. Some wanted minor parts, some weren’t going to make it for dinner, some wanted parts, but weren’t sure if they were going to be there at all.

Of course, it didn’t help matters when, not for the first time, I scheduled a rehearsal on Mother’s Day.

Lucky for me, I had just done this degree at my other lodge, so unlike last year, it was still fresh in my memory. One of my occupational hazards is that I’m often seeing, coaching, or participating in different degrees each week, and sometimes one degree will get stuck in my head and remain there for a couple of days. This becomes a problem when in the middle of a lecture or charge, I suddenly blank out and forget which degree I’m on. Fortunately, it wasn’t a problem for me this year, and I somehow managed to get through the degree without any mental infarctions.

The junior officers put on a huge meal: a very tasty surf & turf dinner that was heavy on the cholesterol, for which they made no apologies. It didn’t seem to faze the dinner guests, and when I walked in I saw wall-to-wall smiling faces. How we all managed to stay awake after such a lavish feast is beyond my ken.

I took the East for the first section of the degree, and WB Richie took the West. We traded seats for the dramatic portion, and at the end of the evening had raised three new Master Masons. Those of you who are reading this, hoping for one of my little humorous tales of something gone wrong, are going to be disappointed, I’m afraid. We had an excellent crew of Past Masters, and by all accounts the evening was a success.

It was, however, the first year that I actually felt like a Past Master, myself. Last year the whole PM thing was still new for me, and I was still getting the hang of being the District Grand Lecturer. This year, though, I had more of a sense of how removed I am from the Oriental Chair. I’m not sad or melancholy, quite the opposite: I’ve had a long time now to look back and to think about what I liked, and what I might have done differently. The weekly phone calls from the current Master Worshipful Jim serve to remind me that my opinion and advice are still valuable, and I have come to appreciate that.

Past Masters need not devolve into moss-backed old turtles once they leave the chair.

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It has been at least a dozen years since Friendship Lodge hosted its own “Lodge at Table,” and even though the members are regular visitors (and helpers!) at other functions, WM Jim Sinclair decided that this was going to be the year that we would have our own.

WM Jim wanted to have some kind of theme to the dinner. Being proud of his Italian ancestry, he wanted to make that part of the theme, but having Italian food? Gosh, don’t Masons already eat enough macaroni and cheese or ziti with sauce? The answer soon became obvious: A Roman theme! And what better to reinforce the theme idea than to ask guests to dress for dinner… in togas ?

So the past week found a dozen different Masons wrestling with old bedsheets and bits of fabric, while the esteemed WB Richie took care of the menu. Ceasar probably didn’t eat pasta, but it’s quite possible that he ate freshly prepared vegetables, eggs, olives, chicken, lamb, pork, cheese and fruit. Oh, and in veritas, he would have had vino as well.

Roman Table Lodge Click to see the online photo album

When I got there, the food was cooked, and WB Richie was preparing the dishes in his typical artistic fashion. I found the rest of the officers upstairs trying to get dressed, assisted by several wives and girlfriends who had shown up earlier to help in the kitchen. I’m happy to see that in some ways Friendship is becoming a nice hang-out spot for the brothers, and glad that their partners feel at home when they come down.

I noticed that it seemed to take much longer to dress the officers in sheets than it does to dress them in tuxedos. More ironic, too, because there is a hell of a lot less material in a sheet. On the other hand, most of the brethren managed to be fairly well wrapped. Interestingly, both WB Jim and I dressed alike, the both of us wearing tunics with purple togas draped around it. I didn’t actually use a sheet, my outfit was the result of a half hour at the local fabric store and another few minutes of my wife working up a few stitches on her sewing machine. I was amazed at the number of “toga party” hits I found when web searching, and was able to find quite a few tips on wearing togas – almost none of which worked perfectly.

And let me tell you – it’s dang near impossible to drive in one of those things.

Anyway, visiting brothers from Sequin-Level Lodge showed up to join the festivities, so we closed the doors and opened the lodge for the first of what we hope are many more Table Lodge functions.

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In Connecticut, it’s common for lodges to shut down in July and August for a summer break (please do not call it “going dark”; that term applies to lodges that turn in their charter and close permanently), although often the various business committees continue to meet. I may have mentioned elsewhere that I forgot to duck when they voted on officers for this board, and my inattention has caused me to be President of the Southington Masonic Temple Corporation for the last three years. Earlier this month we had to get together for a couple of hours to go over some changes to the building and to talk about ways to introduce some new ideas to the rest of the lodge in September.

Generally, we meet on the first Monday of the month, but since most of the members were away on vacation, we rescheduled it for a Wednesday evening a week later. Since most of us would be coming straight from work, the Secretary ordered up some pizzas and beer (Rolling Rock, naturally. Why? The mysterious number “33″ on the bottle makes it the official beer of Friendship Lodge No. 33) and we all showed up around 5:30 (yes, even me) in order to get to work.

After an hour or so of yammering hammering out some details, the eight or so of us took a stretch break. Most of us were standing up, a few eating a cold slice of pie or hoisting a brew, when the door to the hall opened up. In walked an older gentleman who stopped and looked around quizzically.

“Can we help you?” several of us asked at almost the same time.

“Um, yeah, ” he said with just a trace of hesitation, “Weight Watchers meeting?”

“Next door, at the American Legion,” said one of our members, helpfully.

The gentleman nodded, and backed toward the door. He quickly eyed the beer and pizza and glanced pointedly at the large men scattered around the room. “Yeah, should have known,” he chuckled. He thanked us and quickly left.

Most of us being living testaments to the great meals that we serve regularly at our lodge, we laughed along with him. One of the brothers looked around at the rest of us, saying “Right, Weight Watchers. He won’t make that mistake again.”

I just closed my eyes and shook my head. “I am so blogging this,” I told him.

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Actually, more like 96 jars.

Quart jars, that is.

Yes, at the end of January I once again donned my operative apron to cook about 96 quarts of tomato sauce.

Why so much, you ask? Because, you know, that’s like 24 gallons of sauce. You could overflow a bathtub with that much sauce.

The answer is that I needed a lot of sauce to serve over the 54 pounds of ziti and 160 meatballs. Along with the bushel of salad, and the several dozen loaves of bread, of course.

Pasta Dinner 2007
Click the pic to see the online album

The First Congregational Church of Southington has a mission trip for the high school-aged confirmands (those that are about to be confirmed), and for the last few years the missions send them to places that need some manpower. Usually they are involved with other groups that rebuild or refurbish churches and schools. This year, they are heading down south to assist with some of the damage from last year’s Hurricane Katrina. About a dozen or so are going, and while they will be put up in shelters, they do need to pay for transportation costs.

A few years ago, seeing the success of the Chicken Pie Scholarship dinner in the Fall, Reverend Rick asked my wife if she’d be interested in doing something similar to help the kids defray the transportation costs. My wife has a heart of gold, so naturally she volunteered my services. She volunteers my service whenever somebody needs to cook for a lot of people. In fact, one year, a couple of the church members had seen me in the kitchen so often that they asked her “Is that man a caterer? Because he’s pretty good and we’d like to have him give us a price on a party.” Naturally, I was a bit upset to learn that she told them that I was only her husband. Even more upsetting is that she sent them away without giving me a shot at bidding on the party. No, I’m not a professional cook, but if somebody wants to pay me for throwing a party, I think it’s only fair to give it due consideration.

The first year that we did this I learned something: no matter how accustomed you are at cooking for family and friends, cooking for large groups (we consistently have between 150 to 200 people) is just not the same. Yes, in theory one just takes a recipe and scales it up, but in practice it’s really difficult to work with the equivalent of four or five 5-gallon buckets of sauce. I tend to make meat sauces, so I needed to keep a pot separate for the vegetarians and cholesterol watchers. And I had to tone down the spiciness. And watch the herbs. And keep stirring.

And can you believe that some people can’t have wine in their sauce? The sulfites give them rather unpleasant reactions. Good thing that somebody warned the minister.

I also discovered that one is not even allowed to drink wine in the church while preparing sauce. Actually, the prohibition probably extends to more than just while making sauce – I suspect that they don’t want anyone drinking wine while cooking anything at all.

Like I said – it’s just not the same.

Anyway, by the third year we we had gotten the hang of it, and I’m pleased to say that this year was one of the best ever. We served about 170 people, and the dozen or so confirmands came down to serve and help clean up, and we were out of there by 9:30 – the earliest ever. Naturally we had some help from people who were carefully screened for the ability to work with sharp tools, hot pans, and who wouldn’t mind being around me for two days. And for the token bit of Masonic content, I’d like to thank Brother Ed for staying after dinner to help with the dishes, and his wife Polly who managed to not ask me about joining Order of Eastern Star as we scrubbed the pots.

We had some leftovers, so we made up large Ziplock bags of ziti and my wife ladled in some sauce and tossed in a few meatballs, and sold them the next morning after the services as “ready made dinners.” The dinner raised about $1,500 after expenses, and the only thing that we had left over was a large bag of ziti and some meatballs.

Anyone want to guess what I had for lunch for the rest of the week?

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I’ve written elsewhere that once made a Mason, we can’t very well remove our aprons and be “off duty“, as everything is colored by our new frame of reference. Accordingly, even while not in lodge one will often find me acting in various Masonic capacities. Last weekend found me – quite literally – donning an apron to cook and prepare several hundred pounds of local vegetables and almost 150 pounds of chicken at a local scholarship dinner.

Friendship Lodge is supposedly the third oldest organization in town, so it’s no surprise that my wife belongs to the first oldest, the First Congregational Church , located just across the Southington town green from our lodge. Twenty two years ago, several of the women got together in order to sponsor a fall dinner. The dinner became an annual event, and after a few years, they began to sell tickets in order to raise money for the scholarship fund. The menu eventually became a delicious biscuit covering a scoop of chicken, smothered in white gravy with hand-made cole slaw, potatotes and mashed butternut squash; owing to the method in which the dinne was cooked, they called it the Chicken Pie Dinner. Six years ago, my wife started helping out. After a couple of years some of the women, having managed the affair for eighteen years, asked Linda if she would be interested in taking it over. My wife, having some of the same congenital inability to refuse such offers as plagues me, soon compiled the notes and guidelines in order to manage the event.

Anyone in a position similar to mine knows the drill: when your wife or Significant Other takes over a project, you are one of the first ones to get drafted. So every year, just a few weeks after the Apple Harvest Festival, you’ll find me once again visiting one of the most well-known local orchards to pick up butternut squash, potatoes, onions, cabbage, and some other things that I’m sure that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, and the seemingly never-ending hunt for chicken breasts at a good price, preferably under $.99 a pound. Somehow this all comes together during the end of October, and the first Saturday in November is “C-Day”. I’ve noticed that there is a dearth of husbands involved, so the event also entails a good number of aspirin and ibuprofen on my part – the result of moving a dozen or so very, very large boiling pots from the old stove to the sink.

Chicken Pie 2006

A few years ago, we realized that a continually sell-out crowd meant that there were more people who might attend, but we had a limit to the number of people that could fit into the meeting hall. We began to offer “to-go” meals, and then a second seating. The first seating at 5:00 p.m. is always filled, but the dinner crowd typically doesn’t hang around afterwards. The second seating at 7:00 p.m. is smaller, and is when we and the kitchen staff finally get to take a break. This year – mirroring the success of our own fund raiser at Friendship Lodge – we served almost 175 people, for the biggest dinner ever. I know that Linda worked pretty hard over the last couple of weeks to make this event a success, and after everything was added and subtracted we added over $1,200 to the scholarship fund.

Events like this are not easy to run, and we are thankful for the continued help of many of the women who originally started the dinner. At various times during the preceding week some of them helped to peel squash and potatoes, debone chicken, chop up cabbage and onions, and volunteer to make pies for dessert. And on Saturday mornings, the church kitchen is overrun with women gossiping and chatting, and who seemingly just happen to make several hundred biscuits and gallons of gravy in the process. It’s also nice to see some of the new faces stopping in to help – perhaps to run errands, set the tables, serve the meals, and – thankfully – to help with the cleanup afterwards.

Tying this in to the general topic of Freemasonry, I should note that besides the rather cute apron (which, by the way, generated many compliments), First Congregational Church has a number of members who are also members of Friendship Lodge, several of whom showed up to support the dinner.

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