The Tao of Masonry

Okay, the post title is a bit sensationalized, but we finally have proof of our theory that high-ranking Masons really have codified the methods that they have used since the Middle Ages  for killing revenants (i.e., zombies and vampires) in their secret rituals. What we have discovered is not so much a preparedness plan as a procedure manual that describes the methodology.

I’d like to say that I hacked the secret files to the Grand Lodge of Connecticut, because it sounds so dramatic, but the truth is more mundane. When I was down at the offices recently, one of the admins had left his PC on, and I noticed the passwords on a sticky note at the top of his monitor. When he stepped out for coffee, I just copied them down. Yeah, so not Kim Possible, but it worked. When I got home, I fired up my laptop and started browsing the folders. I skipped over the usual stuff on the Kennedys, the NASA/Zeta-Reticuli connection, public water flouridation, and found it hiding at the very end under Zombies.

Here is a link to a PDF file right on the Grand Lodge site that describes the ancient Masonic zombie-killing techniques.
EDIT: The higher-ups at the Grand Lodge have taken down the link, but I saved a copy which I’ve uploaded to my Google Docs. You can see or download it here: Zombie Expulsion.

For those of you who are reading this on your phones and can’t open the PDF file, I’m reprinting the text below.

THE MOST WORSHIPFUL GRAND LODGE

OF ANCIENT FREE AND ACCEPTED MASONS

Applicability and Responsibility
This document is applicable to all Constituent Lodges of the Grand Lodge A.F. & A.M. of
Connecticut, and may be of some use to coordinate and appendant bodies.

Responsibility for maintaining this document rests with the Committee on Masonic
Information, and with the approval of the Grand Master.

Synopsis
The purpose of this procedure is to discern appropriate strategies for responding to a zombie infestation that might affect the officers, members, and support staff of the Grand Lodge of Connecticut, A.F. & A.M., or its related appendant Masonic bodies. Methods for permanent expulsion are discussed.

Note
A number of resources are available on the subject of revenants, and it is not the purpose of this Grand Lodge to offer scientific explanations or theories as to the origin of what are popularly known as “zombies”, nor to speculate upon the habits of those stricken with the syndrome. Rather, our intention is to concentrate on maintaining the ancient and traditional methods of eradicating zombies, should an outbreak or infestation occur.

While the media continue to treat the possibility of a zombie infestation with humor, the fact is that most organizations and local governmental agencies are quietly developing contingency plans to deal with potential outbreaks. The Grand Lodge of Connecticut encourages other Grand Lodges to use this procedure as a guideline in developing their own emergency preparedness plans.

Discussion
Throughout history there have been reported cases of attacks by revenants; creatures that were once human, and who have for unknown reasons been reanimated. While such cases are rare, it is important for Freemasons to understand the dangers and learn how to defend themselves; living persons caught mentally and physically unaware by these are generally either killed and eaten, or will fall victim to the same syndrome.

Since the disease affects 100% of the victims, often within 24 hours, it is important for Masons to be aware of the signs of a potential zombie outbreak, or indications that an area is, or is about to become infested.

Typical indications of outbreaks or infestations in an area are generally accounted for by:

- unexplained disappearances of people with whom one had been in frequent contact.
- unexplained violent deaths.
- deaths by apparent animal mauling.
- sudden news blackouts immediately following reports of unusually violent activity in rural areas.

Note that such outbreaks are frequently accompanied by:

- repeated assurances from government and authorities that zombies do not exist, or that there is no cause for alarm.
- increasingly reported sightings of random individuals that meet the typical descriptions of those in a zombified state.

Since the days when Freemasons traveled across England and Europe to build the castles and cathedrals of the Middle Ages, they have learned much about how to deal with small, localized cases. Accordingly, it is the duty of modern Freemasons to prepare for such contingencies, and to deal with them appropriately.

Investigation
Before Masons can manage instances of zombie outbreaks, they must be able to identify them. Although folklore, current literature, and media reports are very descriptive (and often wrong), there are several common elements in identifying an actual revenant.
In general, zombies can be identified by their:

- long periods of apparent inactivity.
- seemingly random attempts at movement.
- lack of physical coordination, especially when walking.
- slow, but deliberate locomotion in the direction of food (or potential victims).
- little or no apparent reaction to new stimuli (loud music, bright lights, etc).
- frequent inarticulate moaning sounds.

With the understanding that new Masons may have difficulty discerning zombies from some of the current living members of the fraternity, and with an eye to avoid repeating some of the sad, but understandable mishaps experienced in the past, it is recommended that zombie investigation committees include at least one experienced Past Master.

Preparation
Once a revenant has been identified, it is imperative that it be terminated, or in Masonic terminology, suspended or expelled from the fraternity as soon as possible, before it has the opportunity to infect other members. Despite the various methods displayed in the popular media, most of those seen are only Hollywood special effects, and are not particularly effective in the case of actual zombie infestations. While flame throwers, chainsaws, and heavy automatic weaponry look dramatic on the big screen, their suitability is ext
remely limited, their fuel and ammunition requirements are high, and the possibility of mechanical components breaking down in the middle of an expulsion makes them much more risky than traditional implements.

It is not widely known that our ancient rituals contain within them a time-proven method for the expulsion of zombies; indeed, in order to avoid panic in the cities, Freemasons have worked closely but quietly with local and national governments for centuries. The industrial revolution of the early 1700s saw a fast rise in the populations of cities, and with it, the potential for more frequent zombie outbreaks. Masonic scholars will not be surprised to learn that the addition of the Hiramic drama to the third degree ceremony shows the ingenious manner in which our early speculative brothers dispatched such infestations.

Purging
Lodges in the midst of infested areas should form the Craft into teams of three men each, with each team preferably having an experienced Past Master.

Individuals that have been positively identified as zombies should be expelled according to the customary methods. As most younger Masons have probably not been educated in the old traditions, it is imperative that senior officers provide more detailed instruction. However, the basics are outlined in the next section.

Individuals that have been only potentially identified as zombies should, if possible, be isolated or tracked until the Past Master, or the most experienced Master Mason available, ascertains that the creature actually is a zombie and not, for example, a District Lecturer, a Past District Deputy, or an appointed Grand Lodge officer, as such misidentifications by inexperienced Masons have been common in the past, even in the best of circumstances.

Expulsion
Masons have always defended their lodges and other nearby buildings, such as pubs and restaurants, from zombie infestations. As the revenants appear to be oblivious to pain, the safest, and most effective methods of expulsion require a team of men. Traditionally, they divided up into parties of three, each Mason carrying one of the tools as described by custom. The easiest way for the team to expel a zombie is to have each member step in for his particular station, and then to remove himself from the situation so as to allow space and time for the next team member. By the time the third member has finished, the zombie should be completely expelled.

The time-honored methods is as follows:
The first team member utilizes a rule, or better, an edged weapon, and strikes as hard as possible across the throat of the zombie. While tradition holds that swords were used in the past, such implements are difficult to acquire, let alone to have within easy reach. However, good quality machetes are common enough, and having such in one’s home or car would give little cause for questions. The team member should try for decapitation, but realizing that cutting through sinew and bone is much more difficult in real life than in the movies, the objective should be to slice across the entire throat, in order to avoid having the machete or other instrument become lodged in the neck of the zombie.

He should then step aside and allow for the next Mason to strike the zombie as hard as possible in the chest or midsection. This creates a shock to the body and causes them to slow down. Tradition indicates that cudgels may have been used (although current research suggests that such weapons were probably too short to be effective), however baseball bats, axe handles, and crowbars are probably better substitutes. Crowbars have the advantage of the curved, hooked end which would be sharp enough to tear open the body cavity.

Finally, the third member strikes the coup d’etat — a hard blow to the head with a heavy, blunt instrument. The human cranium is surprisingly durable, but if the previous blow across the neck was cut deeply enough, the head should separate from the neck. Alternately, striking from the side would have the effect of breaking or smashing the thinner bones of the skull. Circumstances will indicate which will be the better option. Appropriate tools would be setting mauls, small sledge hammers, or brass-faced dead-blow mallets.

Reporting
After the expulsion of a revenant has been successfully performed, it is important for the team to submit a report to the secretary of the lodge, who will need to include it in the monthly records submission to the Grand Lodge.

Please note that if the subject of expulsion was a member of that particular lodge, it is important to note this in the records so that he can be stricken from the rolls, and the lodge not be charged for his annual portion of the Grand Lodge dues.

One of the great things about the internet is how people with seemingly nothing in common can exchange ideas without ever actually meeting in person. Such is the case when I recently began exchanging emails with an amateur historian, an epidemiologist, and a professor of sociology. At first, it seemed that our only common bond was that we all share an interest in Freemasonry; however over time it developed that we all had some questions about our gentle Craft that have never been satisfactorily answered. As we began discussing the dilemma, we also found that we were able to integrate our various fields of knowledge in order to work through the problem. In doing so, we believe that we have managed to solve one of the most puzzling  issues in the early history of the fraternity.

We now have some serious evidence pointing to the origins of what is commonly known as The Hiramic Legend in the Master Mason degree.

Some brief background: Early Freemasonry had only two degrees, the Entered Apprentice, and Fellowcraft (i.e., Fellow of the Craft). This situation was extant before the 1717 formation of the Grand Lodge of England, and continued for some years afterward. Yet, sometime in the mid-1700s, records show that various lodges seemed to have begun performing some variation of this legend. The origins of the drama are unknown, but is often attributed to being some kind of morality play. The drawback of this theory is that the legend draws on the Biblical story of Hiram Abiff; in the Old Testament, Hiram is a relatively minor character.

More confusing is the rather obvious paradox in which the Masonic legend deviates so drastically from the actual Old Testament story: in the OT, Hiram Abiff comes to help King Solomon build his famed Temple, and when finished, goes home to his family with some considerable payment. In the Masonic drama, however, Hiram is shown to be struck down before the completion of the Temple by three Fellowcrafts, who then attempt to hide his body in a makeshift grave out in the dessert. This is the most extreme departure from Biblical scripture recorded in any of the dozens of Masonic ceremonies, and it stands to reason that there is a purpose for this. By taking what we know about Masonic history from that era, and placing it within the context of the social and cultural aspects of the time,  we believe that we have discovered that purpose.

To understand the social context, we need to consider that the early 1700s was the beginning of the Industrial Revolution; prior to this period, most people lived an agrarian-based lifestyle. However, as more factories were built in and around the cities, larger populations were drawn into the urban areas, and by the mid-1700s, larger numbers of people left the farming communities to see work in the factories. Not surprisingly, the population explosion led to issues of public hygiene: the spread of disease, the disposal of wastes, and the proper internment of the growing number of the deceased.

Although we can trace Freemasonry back to the late 1400s and early 1500s, it wasn’t until the early to mid 1700s that we see the rise of organized networks of Masons, via the formation of Grand Lodges. There are no records as to why several London lodges decided to formalize their arrangement, but it wasn’t long before other lodges joined the network — and it was a network, as the lodges we more able to freely exchange information, including the variations of their rituals and ceremonies. It is significant to note that during this period, There were still only the two degrees in Masonry;  “Master” Masons were those who were literally Masters of their lodges. Likewise, the degree ceremonies were relatively simple and the basic ceremonies were essentially the same in each lodge, although many lodges had their own particular set of “lectures” for the candidates.

At some point in the early to mid 1700s, we see records of lodges adding a type of morality play to the degree ceremonies. The main character varies in some of the earliest versions, but by the third quarter of the 1700s, that character was solidified as Hiram Abiff, and the stories became more consistent. Interestingly, they all contain similar elements: A character is beset by three assailants, and is then murdered; each assailant using a different weapon and attacking a different part of the character’s body. In many variations, the Hiramic legend specifies that Hiram is struck across the throat, in the chest, and in the head. The assailants (often referred to as the “Ruffians” in North America) strike with tools commonly associated with Masons: A square, a rule  (sometimes called the 24 inch gauge), and a mallet or setting maul.

While Masons often assume that the assailants use those particular tools as a way to tie in to the tradition working tools in the various degrees, as we unearthed more information about the underlying social context, it became obvious that this line of reasoning has it backwards; that is, the legend itself is an instructional play that uses these tools as a way to reinforce knowledge to which only a few were at one time privy.  And while we can not yet account for the reasoning behind using the character Hiram Abiff (except that he is a relatively minor character in the OT, and the change of storyline would be easily forgotten), we believe that the traditional lessons taught by this drama — about his integrity and bravery in the face of death — intentionally overshadow the real lessons that needed to be passed down to the new generations of Masons living in the crowded cities and urban areas. In this light, it is the Ruffians themselves who are the teachers and exemplars.

Consider: the three blows to Hiram are the neck, chest, and head. Why? Ignoring the symbolism behind this, those are the traditional  and time-tested points of attack in order to dispatch revenants; those re-animated corpses that wander the countryside in search of living flesh.

It appears that the Three Ruffians are exemplifying the secret art of what the popular media now might call zombie hunting.

It’s easy to dismiss this as nonsense because in our modern era, revenants are portrayed as either sexy, sparkly, quasi-supernatural creatures, or as shambling, brain-devouring bogeymen. But before modern medicine and proper burial techniques, folks in the rural areas and countryside knew that periodically some unknown force would re-animate the newly buried, who then roamed the area terrorizing the denizens with their mindless taste for flesh until they were put down. In fact, until Bram Stoker’s fictional account in the late 1800s, there really were few distinctions between what we now call vampires and zombies; they were simply the re-animated, walking dead.

The question now presents itself: how do the Freemasons figure into this?

Consider that before the late years of the Industrial Revolution, firearms were rare, and most people themselves could not afford metal tools and implements, let alone weaponry (and at some points in history, metal weapons were forbidden to those not of the noble class).This is one of the reasons that a wooden stake through the heart became part of vampire lore: no rural farmers had swords, but skewers, posts, and spindles were easy to come by. Although superstitions attached more importance to the idea of using wood, obviously the important part was destroying the heart.

As the need for Masons grew during the period from the 1300s on up, Masons became a well-traveled, and therefore, more educated, class of
worker. Small groups of Masons were almost always carrying various tools and implements, often made of metal. Our research suggests that when traveling through sparsely populated areas, some Masons, being less superstitious than the local population, developed a means of eliminating these revenants in such a way as to expose themselves to as little  harm as possible. This information they eventually passed on to other traveling brothers, after making sure that those brothers would not reveal such secrets to the superstitious; the Catholic Church was still strong in Europe, and since most Masons were employed at cathedrals and monasteries, they would not want to be perceived to be trafficking with the undead.

This brings us to the methods that the early Masons used to eradicate the revenants. Since Masons often traveled in small groups, each would step in for a short, quick attack, then step aside to allow the next attack. While it is suggestive that this two or three pronged approach may have been passed along from the Knights Templar, this is mere conjecture on our part, as the evidence for the link between the early Freemasons and the Templars are unsubstantiated, and beyond the scope of our research. Perhaps at some future time we will be able to explore Templar history to determine how much exposure they would have had to revenants in the Middle East, but for now, we are only concerned with the suppression of the living dead within England and western Europe.

The Masonic method itself is ruthlessly simple. Upon being confronted with an approaching revenant, the first Mason steps in to strike a blow across the throat with an edged implement, such as a rule or stick. If the implement is an edged weapon, such as a sword (a Tyler’s sword?), full or partial decapitation would be the hoped-for outcome. However, even wooden measuring sticks will serve to damage the airway of the creature.

That Mason steps out of the way, and the second traveler will strike a blow across the chest or midsection. This serves to momentarily stun and confuse the creature for the (quite literally) coup d’etat, in which the last, and presumably strongest Mason smashes a hammer, mallet, setting maul, or some other heavy, blunt instrument into the head of the stunned revenant. Minimal risk, maximum damage.
It should be pointed out that blows to these three areas correspond to killing points in more conventional zombie and vampire lore: midsection (heart), neck, and head (brains). Again, understanding that folktales from the middle ages made little distinction between what we now think of as vampires or zombies, it’s easy to see why this method was adopted.

As notions about public health, medicine, disease, microbes, sewage, control, etc., became more widespread, the cases of revenants declined. Soon, entire lodges of Masons might form without any of the members ever having seen, or indeed, having heard of one. Freemasons became one more of the dozens, nay, hundreds of social clubs in metropolitan Europe. As this happened, the secrets of revenant killing were being lost. We believe that it is safe to assume that some inner group kept these secrets alive by codifying them into a ritual in which new generations of Masons could be taught, without making it obvious, and therefore, more more public. Thus, the legend of Hiram being killed by the Ruffians was developed.

When our researches led us to these conclusions, we spent some time in wondering if there were something that we were missing; given our assumptions, wouldn’t that make Hiram Abiff a zombie or vampire of sorts?
Possible signs in the drama we noticed in context were the disagreeable effluvia and the mangled condition of his body (both zombie and vampire lore make references to the unbearable stench of death from the creatures), and certainly one could make conjectures about “raising” him from the grave. But eventually we decided this line of reasoning was inane, and stuck to the more reasonable explanations. In fact, this could well explain why the early dramas featuring other Biblical characters, notably Noah and his three (note the number!) sons eventually morphed into the lesser known Hiram: the lessons about how to defend against the revenants was a lesson hidden inside another lesson, i.e., the morality play about Hiram’s integrity and honor.

Indeed, when you look at the dramatic enactment of Hiram and the Ruffians in the Temple of Solomon, it becomes clear that the Masons actually have been passing down a secret; only, it’s not the esoteric knowledge that we tend to associate with Freemasons, but practical, operative knowledge. Indeed, in some areas Masonic ritual explains that “tools and implements are carefully chosen by our Fraternity to imprint upon the memory [certain] wise and serious truths.”  In other words, to the true initiates, the ceremony was to reinforce the time-tested method of eradication. If it weren’t making light of so serious a situation, I’d suggest that this parallels the “wax on, wax off” education shown in the old “Karate Kid” movies.

Why teach in this manner? Because in sparsely populated agricultural regions, infestations of revenants were probably rare occurrences, and few Masons had to opportunity to experience such circumstances in person. However, as more people moved to the cities in the early 1700s, public hygiene and proper burial techniques did not keep up with the population boom. As the infection which causes “zombieism”, i.e., re-animation became more wide-spread, Masons, with their tools of the trade and penchant for secrecy, were particularly well-suited to deal with the threats. We believe that the Freemasons of London (and later, those in other cities and countries) entered into an agreement — a conspiracy of sorts — with the local and national governments: Masons would continue to practice their strange rituals without interference as long as they continued to watch for and exterminate the reanimated creatures — quietly, of course, so as not to cause a wide-scale panic. From this, it’s not hard to see how rumors of secret Masonic / government conspiracies could have grown into the outlandish idea that the anti-Masons now have.

Now that we have come close to establishing the origins of the Hiramic legend, where do we go from here?

We suspect that there is still a core group, an inner cadre of Freemasons who are knowledgeable about the existence of the revenants, and who still maintain the agreements with world governments so as not to cause wide-spread panic. While we still believe that such cases are rare because of modern technology and medicine, there is some evidence that whatever causes zombieism has not been eradicated. Occasional news reports of unusual animal maulings, unexplained violent attacks, or mysterious disappearances of people hiking in wilderness or areas of low population seem to indicate that the dangers of zombie infestation are still a small, but extant threat.

Having made these discoveries, we are trying to convince the Grand Lodges of various jurisdictions to open their archives on this matter in order that we might better educate the public — both to make them aware of the potential dangers, and to teach them how to cope if faced with such a situation. Unfortunately, the several Grand Lodges that we have contacted about this issue have either denied any knowledge, or have completely ignored our communications.

We further believe that Freemasons of every jurisdiction have a duty to be alert, aware, and educated in these lost arts, should the situation arise in which — Grand Architect forbid! — the number of revenants overwhelm that small inner cadre. Remember, brothers: it’s quite possible that you and your lodge may be the only source of protection in your community.

I’ve known my Canadian brother Justa Mason for a few years, and I’ve learned that you can always depend upon him to present a responsible opposing viewpoint to virtually any situation. Actually, what I’ve learned is that you simply can’t stop him from presenting an opposing viewpoint. On a recent post about our Past Masters MM Degree in which I described the dramatic additions to our Connecticut version of the Hiramic Legend that some lodges have been known to perform, he asked a particularly pertinent question:

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.

Tom, I will opine here all this additional stuff does wonders for the member who can show off his memory skills.. and very little for the candidate.

What value is all this extra ritual if he can’t absorb any of it? His mind’s on overload to begin with. Shouldn’t stuff like this be done on a separate night where he can let it sink in?

What is the reason behind subjecting him to all kinds of optional ritual on a degree night?

That’s an excellent point. Most of us assume that if some ritual is good, then more is better, and lots more should be great.

Admittedly, I, myself, have pointed out that our candidates sometimes have a difficult time processing the information presented. I’ve even made light of it by writing, in a post about ritual:

The lectures and speeches are filled with symbolism and instruction, and those of us who have put the time into learning them know just how difficult it can be to deliver them with meaning.

All this just for the candidates?

You mean those new guys standing there in the front of the room with the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look? Those guys?

Yeah, those guys. Those guys can barely remember what to do with their hands and feet, and we’re expecting them to absorb some esoteric lesson, which has often been delivered by people who would have not been allowed speaking parts in the local amateur theater group. On the surface, it does sound like a waste of effort. Why go through the trouble to present such material – done well or not – if the candidates aren’t grasping the meaning?

RW Paul (the latest Nutmeg State Mason to start blogging) has another perspective, one which I’ve heard a number of times:

I am on the side that the extra lectures add value, of course I enjoy ritual and often perform some of the extra parts so my opinion is bias.

I have heard this argument in my district as well. But based on the comments by Grand Lodge that there is a lot lousy ritual being done, I think the lodges that still can perform these eleborate degrees should be proud.

I would much rather sit through extra long well performed degree than a short poorly performed degree.

Connecticut, like most US states, uses some variation of the Preston-Webb lectures in which there is a catechismal section (a Q&A section) and two other sections that elaborate on the symbols and allegories of the respective degrees. Each section can be ten to twenty minutes long, and in my experience generally seem to have been memorized by ol’ Brother Joe who retired to Florida a few years ago, so nobody does them anymore. I’ve seen these sections presented on non-degree nights a few times, but as degree nights typically get a larger turnout, it seems like the energy is better spent having them done when the largest number of people can potentially benefit.

Often, arguments – i.e., debatable points – are presented as a matter of extremes. Paul’s last sentence is an example of this, and Justa’s entire message does the same thing, albeit more subtly. I believe that there is a position between those extremes, however.

First of all, I firmly believe that lodges can deliver extra ritual that is good and well-performed. I know it’s true: I’ve seen it done. That said, one could argue that if they can do a good long degree, then they should be able to do a good short degree, too. Yup, I’ve seen that as well. But there are several advantages to a degree ceremony that pulls out all the stops, for both the candidates and for the other lodge members.

As to the candidates, I could point to the importance of total immersion in the initiative experience to create the most overwhelming feelings of awe which may inspire intense thoughts or associations on a deeper level. I suppose that I could also claim that – like the ‘shotgun’ approach – it’s important to throw as much as possible at the candidates in hopes that something will stick. Personally, I think that it’s rare for most lodges to get motivated enough to perform sections of a degree ceremony on off-nights, especially sections that require a certain amount of dramatic talent. It’s easier to present the material when all of the candidates happen to be in the room. Just the preparation for a degree ceremony tends to inspire the lodge members who are actually rehearsing the parts; I think that it would be difficult for some of them to “get psyched” enough to do inspiring work as a program after a regular stated communication.

But there’s something else that we miss: Yes, the candidates will miss some things with a longer degree. Hell, they’re going to miss things with a short degree. But later on they are going to be watching that same degree performed on someone else, and then they’ll have the opportunity to catch a few things that they’d missed.

And why do we assumed that the ritual ceremony is all for the new guys? What about the regular brothers? I’ve noticed that degree nights have a much larger turnout than regular business meetings. Wouldn’t it be nice if the older members had the opportunity to hear that rarely-done piece of ritual? Most of them might miss it if it were done as a “program” in a regular business meeting.

Let me repeat something that I wrote over a year ago in the post referenced above:

Our fraternity has some of the most morally instructive and spiritually inspiring ceremonies, all of which are delivered from memory at no small personal effort. When did we lose the motivation, the initiative to do it for ourselves?

I’m at the age where I attend almost as many funerals as I do weddings; but for each occasion I have lately discovered that during the ceremony I suddenly “hear” something new. Yes, I may have seen the ceremony and heard the same words a dozen times, but each time I hear something that I never noticed before. Why? Maybe a minister or rabbi delivers a line with more or less emphasis, or maybe because of where I am in my own life’s journey some passage that I’ve heard countless times before will strike me with a new insight. Who hasn’t been sitting at a wedding and suddenly turned to their partner upon hearing a line that reminds you of your love? Who hasn’t been to a funeral and been suddenly reminded of your own mortality? That is the purpose of
ritual and ceremony – not only to instruct the new members, but to remind us - the old members – of our previous instruction.

Give this some thought: When did our ritual become less inspiring? When did our degrees become merely a pastime between dinner and desserts? When did you stop noticing something “new” in a lecture?

How many of us have substituted listening for hearing?

If the “extra” instruction is presented well – and not just once every several years – then it benefits everyone, new brothers and experienced members alike.

Tao of Masonry | Freemasonry | Masonry

I never got around to mentioning that back in January, I did a podcast with Cory Sigler of The Working Tools magazine and Masonic social networking site. It was one of those ideas that just sort of took root and spiraled out of control grew into something unforseen.

Cory had wondered if I would like to be a guest, and then we’d spend a half hour or so dishing discussing topics that were appearing on other blogs. As the agreed-upon date crept nearer, I was concerned that I hadn’t heard from him. After a series of calls and emails, it turned out that instead of discussing other blogs, that we were going to interview the guys that wrote “Morals and Dogma for the 21st Century,” a revised version of Albert Pike’s classic that had been written in more modern English in order to make it more accessible to newer Masons. In the end, we were joined by Chris Hodapp, which was a good thing because he was the only one of us who had actually *ahem* read that book. We had a 7-way conversation that lasted 90 minutes.

You can still listen to it online, or download the mp3 on the Talkshoe site:
http://www.talkshoe.com/tc/11669

For those of you who are gluttons for punishment, we have managed to put together yet another episode for your listening pleasure. This time we are going to be speaking with author Dr. Robert Lomas – yes, that Lomas, of the Hiram Key series, Uriel’s Machine, The Second Messiah, etc.

We will also be joined by Bro. Heath Armbruster, who is involved with an amazing study on the Kirkwall Scroll, one of the oldest known Masonic artifacts; it is a scroll which appears to have been made in the 1400′s and is possibly a tracing board for several degree ceremonies.

The Talkshoe format is similar to a live radio broadcast. Listeners can hear this in “real time” as we record. Additionally, you can also register (it’s free, natch) and log in to the recording area, where you can IM questions and comments for us, and if we’re in a tight spot, we will probably even respond to them. The show format even allows us to talk calls from listeners.

The date for this next podcast is Sunday, March 9th at 3:00 pm Eastern time. Hope to see you have you join us!

Tao of Masonry | Freemasonry | Masonry

“So, what’s your secret recipe for this great tomato sauce?”

I heard this from at least 8 or 9 people on Saturday night, when my wife and I served up 65 pounds of ziti and 480 meatballs, all covered in almost 25 gallons of our home-made tomato sauce. No, I don’t have a big family; this is a now annual fund-raising dinner to help out the confirmation class of the First Congregational Church in downtown Southington.

I know, I know – you came here to read about Freemasonry, not about my cooking skills. I’m getting to that part.

My wife and I had started cooking the sauce a week previously, using the 8 burner stove and large pots available in the church kitchen. I’m sure that the church meeting hall must have smelled like an Italian restaurant by the end of the week, and by 5:30 pm – a good half hour before the advertised time – people were ready to stampede lining up to get good seats. We started serving at a quarter to six, and didn’t get a lull until well after 7:00, at which time I was able to walk around, fishing for compliments asking for feedback for the next year. And that’s when I noticed something: even though I told people what I put in my sauce, everybody acted as if I were being cagey about the answer. But that certainly was not the case; I’m usually more than happy to tell people what my own recipes are, and in fact, I’m going to tell you right here how I make tomato sauce.

Yeah, yeah, I know – you’re waiting for the part about Freemasonry. It’s coming, really.

A word of caution: if you’re the type of person who enjoys “recipes” that include such syrupy metaphors as “Add a cup of courage, a teaspoon of tolerance, stir with passion, and serve with L O V E“, then get thee hence! This blog is a NO GLURGE ZONE. Sure, those cutesy sayings were funny the first six or seven hundred times I heard them, but enough already. The 70s are over, and those little naked kids with the big eyes and hearts over their heads are has-beens. Deal with it.

Yes, yes, I’m getting to the part about Freemasonry. Really.

Now, I take a dim view of people who refuse to share good recipe. I don’t care if your great-great-grandmother carried it in her boot when she came from the old country, or if you just discovered it while messing about in the kitchen. In my opinion, the kind of people who won’t share their recipes are merely feeding their egos while they feed you a meal. When they invite you to dinner, it’s either to brag or to play the “I’ve got a secret” game and are, in essence, saying “Hey, I’ve got this really great thing and I’m only going to let you have a little taste in order that I might feel special. But don’t worry; come back next year and I’ll let you have another little taste, just so you can remember how special this is.”

Even more odious are those that purport to give you the recipe, but hold back a key step or ingredient, thereby making you think that you are stupid for not being able to follow directions. A pox on all of them.

What? Oh, yeah – the Freemasonry part. Sorry.

When the first few people asked what I put in my sauce, I told them “A hell of a lot of tomatoes.” It was funny at the time, and very true – we bought over two dozen of those large restaurant sized cans at the local warehouse store, along with salad for 200 people, dressing, grated Parmesan, and sundry other items. We started by sauteing several bulbs – that’s bulbs, not cloves – of crushed garlic in olive oil. Once the smell started wafting through the church hall (I should point out that I did this during one of the services in order to remind people of the upcoming dinner) I added a few scoops of the crushed tomatoes, and some of the typical Italian spices: oregano, parsley, basil, and a bit of fennel seed. I let this cook for a good thirty minutes, and then put some into each one of the five large pots. This served as a base, to which we added the rest of the canned tomatoes. One pot we reserved as a marinara sauce, and to the others we added some cooked ground beef (left over from the Rally Day picnic in September), and some minced and cooked Italian sausages, both of which had been cooked and minced previously in order to save time. We cooked the sauce for about six hours that day, and then came back for a few hours mid-week, and put them on again first thing Saturday morning so that they had another good eight hours to simmer. Usually I put some red wine in the sauce to counter the bitter taste from the tomatoes, but after a few people had concerns about sensitivities to the sulfites in the wine, this year I opted to add some sugar and salt.

I have to say that this was one of the best batches of sauce that I’ve made in a few years. Even my wife will attest that this year it was particularly good, and the compliments from the hungry crowd was certainly a testament to how it turned out.

Yes, yes – I’m coming to the Freemasonry part directly.

I told every person who asked me exactly what I used in the sauce – which, as you can see, are just regular Italian spices. Every person had the same reaction: If I’m just using regular spices and ingredients that you normally find in sauce, then why did this batch come out so well? Certainly I’m leaving out a crucial step, a secret ingredient, a particular item that made this come out better, right? After all, you can’t just throw some tomatoes and spices in a pan and expect it to come out like that, right? Right?

Apparently, my sauce admirers miss the essential point.

They had the list of ingredients that I use, and I even gave them some little tips. And while in theory there might be some small differences between brands of tomatoes or spices, in practice I’ve never noticed any significant difference.

So, what is the point of all this?

The raw tomatoes contain a lot of water, which needs to cook off. In that process, the heat breaks down certain proteins and acids, releasing certain chemicals, and causing others to bond. Five gallons of sauce in a pot takes hours to get up to the proper temperature, with constant stirring to prevent the bottom from burning and tainting the rest of the sauce. The heat also breaks down the chemicals in the spices, and the stirring allows the flavor to gently infuse throughout the pot of warm liquid. Eventually, the acids break down and dissipate, and the sauce itself tastes of the fragrant basil and oregano, perhaps mixed with the spicy saltiness of the sausage.

The secret, you see, is not the ingredients at all. It’s the time.

Those people who are accustomed to opening a jar of grocery-bought sauce simply can not conceive of the investment of time that one must make to cook a good, home-made tomato sauce. Despite the stereotype of old Italian ladies standing at a stove all day, few people really understand that it’s the process of cooking that makes the difference between a rich, thick, savory sauce and a thin, slightly bitter one. Too often we try to make up for the lack of flavor by adding extra garlic, salt, basil, or other spices. But these serve merely to cover up the fact that the sauce itself is a hastily prepared affair.

Even the cooking shows on television offer up tips on how to make good tomato sauce, especially tailored for busy people who only have an hour or so. And no question about it, some of those sauces are tasty. But they’re not the same; indeed, if I may be so bold, they’re not even in the same
class.

Let me make this clear: In sauce making, as with so many other things in life, there is no substitute for the investment of one’s time. It is only through the lengthy process of cooking that the unwanted and unnecessary ingredients break down, and are replaced by the desirable aromas and textures. It is only through time that certain agents can be make their way around the large vat of liquid, moving here and there until the gentle stirring combines them with other agents to produce something delightful to the senses. And certainly, the larger the pot, the more time is needed.

Time.

Speaking of which, it looks as if I’ve run out. It appears that I’m just not going to get around to discussing Freemasonry, doesn’t it?

Tao of Masonry | Freemasonry | Masonry

A few years ago, a friend of mine got into the habit of stopping by my house once a week to talk about his new interest in Eastern esoterica and mysticism. A devoted practitioner of several meditative disciplines, he liked to tell me about his new discoveries, insights, and practices. Since I used to practice yoga, meditation and have had the opportunity to study some of the lesser known aspects, he felt that he could talk to me about what might be termed the spiritual aspects, knowing that I wouldn’t think it was too (forgive the technical term) “woo-woo.”

One day we were chatting about something and he asked me about a particular point, to which I answered that I didn’t remember much about it. He was surprised. “I figured with all the reading you’ve done, you’d have some opinion on this. ” He then confessed that he thought it was odd that I didn’t quote back to him some of the authors that I’d read, or refer to some of the older, classical writings.

I explained that some years earlier I had given away just about all of my books on Taoism and Zen, and hadn’t been inclined to pick up any more. He really didn’t understand this, so I had to explain to him what led to this decision. A long time ago I began picking up books and literature and read almost incessantly on the writings of Lao-Tze, Chang-tzu, and other authors with “z”s and dashes in their names. I picked up old books – translations written in the 1800s and early 1900s – and I picked up new books. I tracked down out-of-print books, the more esoteric, the better. I meditated, I unblocked some of my chakras, and managed to contort parts of my body into odd shapes, the better to allow the kundalini energy to flow.

At some point, I realized that as much as I studied and meditated, I was merely reading about Taoism, and not actually practicing Taoism. In fact, the reading, the meditating – the constant searching for meaning – was getting in my way. I gave away almost everything that I had bought, keeping only my favorite Stephen Mitchell translation of the Tao Teh Ching, and a couple of other older volumes. Instead of picking up yet another book, I decided that my time would be better spent trying to live up to all of the ideals that I had been reading about.

If this were a Zen parable, this is the point where I’d write “And at that instant, my friend was enlightened.” Unfortunately, that’s not quite what happened; he continued to argue with me, convinced that I was crazy. I’m sure there’s some ironic lesson in all this somewhere…

Anyhow, I’m writing this because the essential point – that at some time you need to put down the books and work with what you know – is not limited to Eastern philosophy. One of the great things about Masonic blogging is the unexpected jewel that you happen across while looking for something else. Earlier last week, I saw that MMM over on North Eastern Corner also came to a similar understanding. After mentioning the time he had spent collecting all sorts of books about the fraternity, he writes:

“It has been my bad habit of buying every book someone mentions on their blog or website for well over a year now and I have come to a decision that it must stop.

“Not because I haven’t gotten anything from any of these publications, but because recently I had an epiphany about books on Freemasonry and a hammer. [. . .] If you do an Amazon book search for “hammer” you come up with 183,470 books associated with hammer as a subject or somewhere in its title.

“I could read all 183, 470 books associated with the hammer and not even come close to what you learn in just ten minutes using a hammer. “(italics mine)

He gets it.

I wonder if this isn’t part of the reason that some Masons roll their eyes when somebody brings up the term “Masonic Education.” Our craft has inspired hundreds, nay, thousands of excellent books and essays on the nature of the craft, morality, on what it means to be a Mason, on the comparisons between Freemasonry and various other philosophies, on the evolution of thought, on the importance of religion or spirituality, and on just about any other subject that you can imagine being tangentially linked to the craft. The excellent website Pietre-Stones itself has more fantastic writing than the average Mason could read, the Philalathes Society has even more, and anyone with access to Google can read about any aspect of Freemasonry until their mouse finally drops from their nerveless grasp.

Here’s a good question: Is there – or should there be – a minimum requirement for some kind of Masonic Education? How much of this should we, as Masons, be reading? Should all Masons be expected to read Pike’s “Morals & Dogma“? Should we all be handed, along with our aprons, “A Complete Idiot’s Guide to Freemasonry for Dummies“? Should our brethren have a mandatory subscription to “The Tao of Masonry“?

In the last few years, I’ve read and heard some people complain about the sad state of Masonic Education, and about the dearth of great Masonic thinkers, and about the lack of modern books on Masonry. My brothers are, naturally, entitled to their opinions. My own opinion on that topic is that the internet has made available more excellent Masonic information than any of our ancestors would have dreamed possible. My own education on Masonry – the education that I have found to be the most valuable – came less from books, and more from conversations with knowledgeable brothers in person and in various online forums. Back when I joined, several of the brothers told me that “the real Masonry happens after lodge.” I didn’t understand what they meant for the first few months, but soon it became obvious – we had relatively short business meetings and then went downstairs for fellowship. Over coffee or whiskey (whichever a brother preferred, and nobody was pushed into anything) we would talk about how the Grand Lodge works, why a certain brother gets certain accommodations, talk about various aspects of our ritual and ceremonies, learn why this or that lodge runs the way it does, and dozens of other trivial-seeming topics that didn’t start coming together for me for almost a year.

Yes, I read a lot of books. I learned many aspects about the history of our craft, the evolution our our ritual, and saw how our symbols dovetail with symbols and teachings from long ago. But I also learned why it was important to have Caffeine-Free Diet Pepsi for WB Roger, and to always make a few low-cholesterol dinners for WB Julian, and to have cof
fee ready for WB Bob before and after the meeting, and . . .

Reading and acting. From which do you suppose I learned more about Masonry?

Tao of Masonry | Freemasonry | Masonry

Appearances to the contrary, the handsome young men in the photo are not up for the parts of Curly, Moe and Larry. No, that’s me in the center, flanked by two of the four five Connecticut Masons who are guilty of blogging. Movable Jewel currently serves with me on the Committee for Masonic Education, and North Eastern Corner came to the recent officer’s seminar held at Ashlar Village, the Masonicare facility in Wallingford.

I’ve discovered that I have more online friends than local friends, so it’s always rare but interesting to run into someone that I “know,” but have never met in person. As it happens, though, I have met all of the Connecticut bloggers. Masonic Renaissance is a fellow District Grand Lecturer, and the mono-nymed Radcliffe of Metaphysical Freemason – the latest person to admit “If Tom can have a blog, then anyone can” – is actually a member of my lodge.

Is Connecticut big enough for five people to blog about Masonry? Hartford Advocate writer Adam Bulger wondered about the proliferation of Masons who blog in his recent article.

“I said it seemed odd that Freemasons, an order noted for its secrecy, would have so many members writing blogs, which are often like online confessionals.”

What didn’t make the article was that a lot of Masons are proud of their membership, and enjoy talking about it. Unlike the old days when you might never know that a relative had been a member of the Craft until after he died and you were sorting through his things, many Masons today are interested in exploring their journeys, and in discussing how similar and yet different their experiences are.

Of course, some of us (*ahem*) are just attention hounds.

The seminar itself is a half-day session in which Junior and Senior Wardens are given an overview of the things that they’ll need to know for when they assume the Oriental Chair. The seminars are a little different every year, but we cover a little bit about planning and organizing, team building, Masonic jurisprudence, rules and regulations, how to run meetings, etc. We also have a similar seminar for those who expect to be elected as Master in the coming year. We stress planning and team-building because most of us can’t think of anything worse than having the new Master take the gavel and then say “Uh, okay. Now what?” Similarly, if a Master has a plan for his year, he needs to understand how to delegate tasks, and how to follow up on them so he’s not caught short at the last minute. I was very pleased to find that all of the attendees that I talked to found the seminar enlightening and informative.

A nice post about the Warden’s Seminar can be found on Movable Jewel’s blog.

Tao of Masonry | Freemasonry | Masonry