Showing posts with label contemplative. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemplative. Show all posts

The Bittersweet Lessons of the Hourglass

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Phillip Welshans


There is an old story that is thought to have originated with Sufi poets such as Rumi, and which was passed down to western readers via translations of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam that tells of a king in an Eastern kingdom long ago who offered a great reward if someone could tell him a piece of wisdom that would endure in good times and bad. There are various versions of this story but they all center around this king and his search for enduring wisdom. Eventually he asks a man known for wisdom to go and think about this request and if he could provide the monarch with a great piece of erudition, he would be greatly rewarded. 

The man goes off and sometime later returns to the court to present the king with his insight. The traditional version of this story states he handed the king a small box and when it was opened, it revealed a small ring with an inscription around the outer band. The king was perplexed and asked, incredulously, "Is this it?". The man nodded and said, "Put the ring on your finger and read the inscription."

The king did so, reading out, "This too shall pass."

The man said, "Wear this ring always and read the inscription frequently. Thus in times of great fortune and great sadness, you will always be reminded that those times are fleeting, and that this too shall pass."

The king was much impressed with the man's wisdom that would endure throughout life, and gave him his reward. 

This story has lasted throughout thousands of years of human history and has been referenced by many great thinkers and speakers. Abraham Lincoln told this story in a speech at the Wisconsin State Fair prior to being elected President of the United States. The subject matter was supposed to be agriculture, a topic worthy of most state fairs, but Lincoln took a less direct route in his speech. He used the story to illustrate the impermanence of life, in this case, for farmers who might enjoy a bumper harvest one year and drought or disease the next. In either case, those times do not last forever, and remembering that can provide chastity in the good times and comfort in the bad. 

For us as Masons, this story's moral is encapsulated in the symbol of the hourglass from the Master Mason lecture. As an emblem if human life, we can easily see "how swiftly the sands run, and how quickly our lives are coming to a close!" While in the present, we may be tempted to think the current hard times we endure or great fortune we enjoy will last forever, the hourglass tells us this is only an illusion, similar to how the sands in the hourglass pass almost imperceptibly through the machine. A day may seem like it lasts forever, but time marches on and in the end, proves that everything is temporary. 

I was recently reminded of this when my daughter turned 4. We held her birthday party on a recent Saturday afternoon. We'd decided to make it a blow-out because her first three birthdays were subdued due to the pandemic. We invited friends in the morning/afternoon and scheduled a nice dinner with family in the evening. At one point that afternoon we had 26 toddlers and their parents on our front lawn eating pizza and cupcakes, getting their faces painted (the kids, not the parents!), bouncing off each other like colliding asteroids in the bouncy house we rented, and going crazy when the pony we booked showed up dressed up like a unicorn. She'd chosen a Frozen-themed party and we have a photo of her on the unicorn dressed like Elsa, face painted, barefooted from the bouncy house. That evening we had family over to our home for a nice dinner and cake and ice cream for dessert. 

The weekend was a blur of frantic preparations, running to Party City (multiple times), picking up food, setting up games and praying the torrential rain of Friday would end by Saturday (it did). The party itself was chaos with all the kids, and I felt like it was both the longest and shortest two hours of my life. But that night after we had dinner and gathered around the birthday girl to sing "Happy Birthday" to her, I think on a subconscious level the lesson of the hourglass, and the story of the king, reached me. Life is impermanent, and she will never have another 4th birthday party again. The craziness and magic of that day will be remembered for a long time, but will never come around again. The stress of the days leading up to the party, the chaos of the party itself, and the joy of seeing her surrounded by her family who had come just to see and celebrate with her, is all temporary. Those moments, good and bad, slip away almost imperceptibly, and yet, we are surprised to find that in the short space of an hour, they're all exhausted. 

It is a bittersweet lesson we take from the hourglass in the lecture. Life is full of good and bad, but none of it lasts forever. So, we should seek to enjoy the former while it's here, and buckle down under the latter while it persists. For this too, we know, shall pass.

~PW

Phillip Welshans is Senior Warden of Palestine Lodge #189 in Catonsville, MD under the Grand Lodge of Maryland A.F. & A.M. He is also a member of the Maryland Masonic Lodge of Research #239, and the Hiram Guild of the Maryland Masonic Academy. As a member of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite, S.J. in the Valley of Baltimore, he has completed the Master Craftsman programs and is a member of the Scottish Rite Research Society. His interests are primarily in Masonic education, particularly the history of the Craft, esotericism, and the philosophy of Masonry.

Guarding Our Own West Gates and Self-Tyling

by Midnight Freemason Guest Contributor
C. R. Dunning, Jr.


Recently I had the privilege of being involved with the Leadership Academy of the Grand Lodge of Kansas. In one of the many wonderful conversations of the weekend, Right Worshipful Brother Derik Hockett and I spoke briefly about guarding the west gate and tyling not only as practices for a lodge but also as practices for individual Masons in their own lives. I have continued to ruminate on this parallel, and I want to share with you some of the meaning I have found in it.

Guarding Our Personal West Gates

We typically use this phrase, “guarding the west gate,” to reference the responsibility we each have for ensuring that nobody is made a member of the lodge who is not sufficiently prepared to do the work of Masonry, who is not ready, willing, and able to keep our obligations and make good use of the lessons and charges in our rituals and monitors. This practice protects both the lodge and the individual in question, but our present focus is on the lodge. Guarding the west gate helps us preserve and even enhance the peace, harmony, and unity of the lodge in pursuing the sacred purposes described by our rituals.

Now, let us consider that the lodge is, among other things, symbolic of the self. The self, like a lodge, is an assembly of things brought together according to certain patterns and principles. In Freemasonry, we represent those patterns and principles with symbolic images and allegories taken from operative masonry and especially as it relates to the building of King Solomon’s Temple. We traditionally translate those images and allegories and the patterns and principles they represent into ideas about being virtuous human beings, living our lives in ways that are more conducive to the well-being of ourselves and everyone else. Thus, the different elements of the lodge necessarily relate to different parts of our being – they  form a blueprint of the whole self with all its physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and social aspects working together in peace, harmony, and unity.

Taking the lodge as a trestleboard of the self, “guarding the west gate” can be understood as exercising good judgment about what we allow to become parts of our lives. Just as with prospective candidates for the lodge, we have a responsibility to carefully examine things, to consider who is recommending them and why, to take note of how they relate to other things, and to discern the effects they generally have on others. We are looking for a favorable report, a reputation for contributing to the good. In more direct terms, when considering a new possibility for ourselves, we carefully consider its potential to help us become wiser, stronger, and more beautiful human beings. If it lacks sufficient potential, then we regard it as an unworthy and unqualified prospect, no matter how pleasing it might otherwise seem, and we say no to it as we continue to welcome and embrace those things that pass the test.

This process can be challenging. In some cases, what is good for others may not be good for oneself, and what is bad for others may indeed have significant positive potentials for oneself. For example, wine contributes to the beauty and joy of life for many people, but to others, it is psychologically and spiritually poisonous. So, it is not enough to simply rely on the experience and opinions of others, we must also deeply know and be very honest with ourselves. Another challenge is that there are some things that seem harmless, even very pleasing in some way, and yet they do little to enhance the quality of our lives but instead squander the time, energy, and other resources that could be better invested. Many things marketed to us in popular culture fall into this category, often made to seem as if they are essential to “the good life,” when in fact they are the psychospiritual equivalent of junk food. These things are among the superfluities referenced in the lesson of the Common Gavel; guarding the west gate of ourselves keeps them from being added to all the stuff we need to chip away.

Tyling Ourselves

In the work of our lodges, tyling is meant to protect our sacred space from the intrusion of the “profane,” those in the world around us who have not passed the tests of the west gate and are not duly initiated into our tradition. It also prevents members of lower degrees from admission into meetings, rituals, or ceremonies for which they are not qualified. Referring to the lodge as an analogy for the self, the implications include not only those we have already seen with guarding the west gate, but also recognizing that some things we might recognize as generally worthy parts of our lives are not always fitting to admit within the boundary of specific moments of conscious attention.

The Tyler’s instrument is the sword, which we naturally associate with protection and defense against threats. At a more symbolic level, the sword is often said to represent the power of reason, which can cut through illusions, divide one thing from another, and penetrate toward deeper understandings. There are meaningful connections here with the lesson of the 24-inch Gauge. That instrument teaches us about the need to equitably divide our time – and  thus our attention, energy, and other resources – among our usual vocations, the service of God and others, and our own rest and refreshment. In both cases, we are talking about the power of discernment and how it can be used to focus our minds and efforts, and the importance of such focus on being able to make intentional differences in our lives and the lives of others.

Exercising this discernment in the act of self-tyling involves the recognition that certain attitudes and actions are not appropriate during some Masonic activities that would be entirely fitting during other kinds of fellowship. For a specific example, recall that all our proceedings should be free from political and religious debate, even though such discussions can be very meaningful among brethren outside the lodge. The compasses should also come to mind here, for they represent the ability to circumscribe our desires and keep our passions within due bounds. As another example, consider that when we are sitting in lodge, profane thoughts include distracting ourselves with matters outside the lodge, such as our jobs and hobbies. So, we self-tyle by setting such thoughts aside and attending as fully as possible to the work for which the lodge has assembled. As a final case, note that the fun and banter that we may enjoy during a festive board is not conducive to the solemn purposes of a degree ritual. Self-tyling in this context includes not only being aware of one’s own thoughts and feelings, such as temptations to get a laugh with a wisecrack or a comedic act, but also internally saying no to such potentials and refocusing oneself in the proper mood and mentality for the work at hand.  

Finally, I want to discuss self-tyling in the context of contemplation, those practices of stilling and focusing the mind that our ritual repeatedly recommends in our search for more light. Such practices can include centering consciousness on the image of a Masonic symbol, pondering a part of our ritual, meditating on the challenges of embodying one of our traditional virtues, internally chanting one of our sacred words, or sitting in reverent silent openness to the presence of the Divine. Whatever the case may be, self-tyling in these situations begins with one’s awareness of things that distract from the intention of the moment. Most often, such distractions include sensory perceptions, leftover emotions from a previous experience, or the wandering of our thoughts from one tangent to another. In such cases, self-tyling is the act of recognizing these internal “cowans and eavesdroppers” and then simply letting them go or turning attention away from them to refocus on the intended practice. Despite the symbolic relevance of the sword to this process, it should not be a hostile or violent act, for negativity only makes things worse. Rather, this self-tyling is best accomplished with patience and understanding, and the commitment to gently realign our attention with our intention as often as necessary. It is metaphorically bringing our focus back to the chosen point within the circle of our awareness. In fact, that process of self-redirection is itself a very good practice that over time enhances the other forms of self-tyling and guarding our own west gates, and facilitates the development of more wisdom, strength, and beauty not only internally, but in how we behave with others.

Whether doing the work of Masonry within the physical lodge of our fraternity or the psychospiritual lodge of the self, what happens there is meant to prepare us to be more effective instruments of light, and we should govern ourselves accordingly. 

~CRD


Brother Chuck Dunning
is an advocate, facilitator, trainer, and consultant in contemplative practice, with more than 30 years in the professional fields of higher education and mental health, as well as in Masonry and other currents in the Western esoteric traditions. He has authored Contemplative Masonry: Basic Applications of Mindfulness, Meditation, and Imagery for the Craft (2016), and The Contemplative Lodge: A Manual for Masons Doing Inner Work Together (coming in 2020), and was a contributing author in The Art and Science of Initiation (2019). Chuck has articles published in several Masonic journals and websites, is a nationally recognized speaker and trainer on the Masonic Educational circuit, and has been interviewed for numerous periodicals and podcasts. In 2019, the College of Freemasonry in Rochester, New York presented him with the Thomas W. Jackson Masonic Education Award for Fraternal Leadership in Masonic Research and Esoteric Study. In 2018, the Southern California Research Lodge recognized him as being among the Top Ten Esoteric Masonic Authors. Chuck is the founding Superintendent of the Academy of Reflection, which is a chartered organization for Scottish Rite Masons wanting to integrate contemplative practice with their Masonic experience. He is also a Full Member of the Texas Lodge of Research. You can contact Chuck via his webpage: https://chuckdunning.com/.

Cryptic Contemplations

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Ken JP Stuczynski

I am a new Cryptic Mason. I have been studying profusely the lessons and history of Royal Arch Masonry to at least try to provide adequate instruction for my Chapter as High Priest. But this new journey is yet another layer of allegory and meaning.

I understand (as much as I am able) the interrelationship between the Three Degrees and the Royal Arch Degrees. Historical complexities can reasonably account for the order of the events in the legends. We find the "deleted scenes" that occur before and after the notorious murder scene and then are fast-forwarded to what is almost a sequel in itself, the recovery of what is lost.

So how does Cryptic fit in? Are they just some extra degrees that lingered on after the first three had been finally and firmly established in the middle of the 18th Century? Were they crammed in to fill out some need, or perhaps arbitrarily placed in the York Rite from the Scottish Rite due to the common details of the Legend? (I must here note that many of the creative ritualists were the same people in both traditions.) There seems to be little logic in any of it, being solely a matter of historical compromises and nearly random circumstances.

I'm not concerned with that here. Well, from a scholarly view it is noteworthy, but what we can consider from the experience is more than just what the authors intended or even imagined. We can speculate on them ourselves, as individuals, and what I have derived is a pattern that makes sense to me. So what I propose here is another angle from which to measure this path of Degree work.

Let's put aside the chronology of the story, and distill the elements down to their possible underlying meaning. In other words, let's see the Degrees as our own story and see what fits where.

We begin by losing something precious. We're not even sure exactly what it was that was lost because we didn't quite receive it. Is it a part of ourselves, perhaps a connection to our higher nature? Perhaps such loss is the expulsion from the Garden, the Fall of Adam in each of us.

Sure, we learn from the consequences of our natural inadequacies. Maybe that's part of the purpose of human existence. But regardless, we are in some way lacking and imperfect. There is something missing and we cannot complete our journey. We must use a substitute to get us by. Who knows what the particulars may mean for you, the reader, but we all have at some point been at a loss and prop ourselves up with something by which to compensate or medicate or just plain cope.

However, by some divine forethought and Grace, we find a hidden remnant of what we lost. Perhaps we gave up looking; perhaps we strove diligently in Faith. But such an important thing could not be gone forever, lest there be no true Hope. When we recovered (or rather uncovered) the holy relic and its secret, it was as if our journey was complete. We know Truth in a higher and more complete way.

So why does the Cryptic narrative serve as the final chapter of the story? I see it as the lesson of how we should preserve and cherish what was found, something that could only be heartily done AFTER having suffered its loss.

We cherish it as a secret should be cherished -- entombed in our faithful breast, rather than dissipated in an unintelligible shout among the profane. And we value it enough to preserve it through the passing on of our tradition, from generation to generation. This could be symbolic of passing on our highest values to our children, or those we mentor, or the young in general.

This gives a deeper meaning to what it means to "keep" your word. We've all had times we lost part of ourselves, and may or may not have succeeded in preserving our integrity or honor. But sometimes it takes losing something to realize how precious it is. From that point onward, we try to do better once such things are regained.

So these are my thoughts about Cryptic Masonry. As I progress, I may find it primitive or build further upon it. But for now, I have this lesson to learn: I must not only rediscover those things that are dear and precious in my life but learn to actively guard them against the ruffians of the world and even my own apathy, sleeplessly and unceasing as if defending whatever it may be from the ravages of time itself.

~JP

Bro. Ken JP Stuczynski is a member of West Seneca Lodge No.1111 and recently served as Master of Ken-Ton Lodge No.1186. As webmaster for NYMasons.Org he is on the Communications and Technology Committees for the Grand Lodge of the State of New York. He is also a Royal Arch Mason and 32nd Degree Scottish Rite Mason, serving his second term as Sovereign Prince of Palmoni Council in the Valley of Buffalo, NMJ. He also coordinates a Downtown Square Club monthly lunch in Buffalo, NY. He and his wife served as Patron and Matron of Pond Chapter No.853 Order of the Eastern Star and considered himself a “Masonic Feminist”.

The Perils of the Perfect Ashlar

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
WB Robert E. Jackson


Several months ago, I started a journey. I was on a path to research the mysteries of Masonry and life in general, meditating daily, studying the blogs and making sure that I read something every day. I was in search of the Perfect Ashlar, and I was determined to get there. It wasn't for notoriety, or fame, or to be some master guru, it was just to be better. I needed to be better. My friends and Brothers deserved a better me. My wife and kids, my family, deserved a better me. The problem was, it wasn't me.

I was convinced that every mistake I made, every wrong turn, was another part of the rough ashlar that needed to be processed. The path became a series of checklists, and each task marked complete meant being closer to that perfect ashlar. Each task not complete, drove me deep into the recesses of that rough ashlar into both a figurative and literal, depression. That mental state was viewed as yet another imperfection of the ashlar, driving me further down into a horrible cycle. It was as if I was following a map, a path to enlightenment. Every wrong term, every missed step, needed to result in punishment, or I would be doomed to make the mistake again. It all simply told me that I just wasn't working hard enough.

This impacted every aspect of my life…as a Brother, as a Scoutmaster, husband, father, friend, etc. Every interaction was an apology, another area where I fell short of what my false self was telling me to be. I very quickly found out that one of the driving factors behind this obsession, was a massive fear of rejection. Friends, colleagues, family, will see me as less than what I am…God forbid they would see me for who I really am. And my kids…my kids deserve so much better. They deserve a better Father, the best that anybody could be. However, that strive to be the best ends up as unrealistic expectations placed upon their souls. By demonstrating this urge for perfection, my fear of negatively impacting them was coming to fruition. The very thing I was afraid of was happening.

So, I turned to therapy. I took a break from all education that wasn't related to figuring out what was going on…anything Masonic, work, or Scouting related that wasn’t urgent, had to be put on hold. After years of telling people that our brains are our own worst enemies, I had no choice but to see this in myself. One of the first books I read, Whole Again by Jackson MacKenzie, revealed quite a bit. This can be dangerous, however, because there is always the possibility of contracting "Medical Students' Disease." For those not familiar, this is the phenomenon, often seen in medical students, where they are immediately inflicted with every disease and issue they read about. There was one particular section, however, related to perfectionism, where it felt like I was reading a story about my self. 
 
The perfectionist struggles daily with expecting things to be the way they are "supposed to be." There is some obsessive compulsive tendency here (like wanting dishes to be organized in a specific way). However, the majority of the feelings are around self loathing, and resentment. I can certainly see how the resentment can ruin relationships for those that are vocal about their needs and desires. Projects and tasks should be performed in a certain way. Any tasks I complete, must be maintained exactly as how I've done it (again, reference dishes). When combined with the self loathing, however, every time a task wasn't done as I felt it should be done, it became my personal problem. Either I would recognize that the inability to accept other implementations was another fracture in my rough ashlar. Or in some cases, I would blame myself for not communicating my intentions well enough. Certainly there were successes and great accomplishments, but those all belonged to my team members or partners. I was not permitted to enjoy the success…as it wasn't mine.

Another battle of the perfectionist is the take on as many new projects as possible. This was completely obvious in my life, and I can't remember a time where I didn't take on whatever was thrown at me. Looking back, in college, this actually resulted in a physical battle with mononucleosis that lasted over a month. I couldn't give up though. I couldn't stop, no matter how much I was hurt…just like an addiction. Something inside my mind kept pushing me for the next project, the next contribution, for if I was able to do more, I would be more indispensable. I could become not just the perfect ashlar, but the corner stone! That same corner stone that was rejected so many times.

At this point, I feel it necessary to explain that there is a significant difference between seeking sympathy, wanting the 'pity party', and self loathing. The former seeks the attention, the assistance, while the latter hides behind the smiles and laughter. Self loathing often results in seclusion, and withdrawal from society, even though the camaraderie might be what we need most. Thinking about the law of attraction, and the impacts our feelings have on others, there is a fear (yup, another fear) that by introducing ourselves into a concert or meeting when we aren't in the "right mind" may end up negatively impacting others. At one point, I almost skipped our Lodge of Instruction (a monthly district gathering we have in Massachusetts). My good friend, Brother, and Midnight Freemason contributor Erik Marks was speaking. I was so looking forward to this lecture, but I didn't want to poison the room, so I was going to stay home. I forced myself to go, and I left that meeting a different person. Not just his presentation about meditation and contemplative thought, but simply being there with my Brothers made such an impact. I was also able to speak with some of my Brothers about my struggles, trying to understand the difference between Self Compassion, and Self Centeredness. This distinction continues to be a struggle.

We often talk about the Ego - the inner mind. For most of my life. I was convinced that our Ego was merely the inner self that was the antithesis to Charity. From the King James Bible, 1 Corinthians 13:5 states that,
 "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;"
 Our Ego is self promotional, overbearing, pushing down others to make us feel better. I was so convinced that this was the only possible existence of Ego, my way of battling the Ego was to attempt to eliminate any aspect of selfishness. Ultimately this led the path to Echoism, and I was convinced that this was my way. This was how I was to serve mankind, and if I screwed up, it became a personal failure. Eventually the depression of not letting go of the past, transformed into an anxiety of making the wrong decisions in the future. At some points, the anxiety became debilitating, and once again, the fear became reality.

Eventually, with help, I realized that this was exactly what my Ego was doing. What makes me so special? I truly believe that there is a sense of divinity in us all. An unfettering compassion and love that is to be shared with others, and that's what makes us beautiful. I couldn't believe that I had it, because I'm fundamentally flawed. But what makes me so special to be imperfect and not worthy of this love, when so many others, even people I just met, are deserving of the love and compassion that I can offer?

Ryan Flynn has some amazing presentations…one of my favorite's is the Divine Master. 

Brother Flynn was talking about Michelangelo's early life, some of the people he kept company with, and learned from, and of course some of his greatest works of art. This is such a thought provoking presentation, and really enforces the idea of 'hidden in plain sight.' I truly love some of the linkages between our lessons of today, and those of the very distant past. At one point, Brother Flynn discussed the rough and perfect ashlars, and alchemy, and transformation, and simply making yourself better. Sometimes that ashlar appears to be so rough, it's hard to imagine that ever becoming even close to something beautiful. And yet, the amazing marble that was used to carve Michelangelo's David, possibly one of his most famous works, was discarded, judged by other artists to be useless. I’m certainly not comparing myself to the amazing artists of the renaissance, but at that point in time, I realized that I dismissed my own ashlar. Brother Flynn mentioned a very inspiring quote from Michelangelo…
"Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free."
I couldn't believe that there was such beauty inside of me. There I was, surrounded by my Brothers, and one of my favorite speakers, and I was drifting off, because the Ego was once again taking control. On my way home, I continued to think about this quote. There is a beauty within us all-- including me. I started again down that dangerous path, though. "If I get to this point, I'll be better. Once I perfect this lecture, I'll be a better Mason. Once I attain enlightenment, I'll be healthier. Once I read this book, I'll be smarter."

Another book I was introduced to along the path, was Eckhart Tolle's, The Power of Now. This book had a great impact with a very dear friend of mine (not a Mason), but after reading I learned that several Masons that I admire have incorporated many of the concepts of this book. Tolle speaks of time as a fabrication of man. Within the animal kingdom, we are the only beings (that we know of) that ruminate over the past, and fear the future. The only point in time that matters to any of us, is right now, this very moment, this very breath. Once we can let go of "when I can…I'll be happy," only then can we truly be happy. I could understand the concept, but again, application of that tool eluded me. It was as if I was in the LEGO movie, looking for the instructional books as I was not yet a 'master builder'. If only I could attain enlightenment. That simple statement, that goal, was putting me back into mind, time, and removed me from the Now. One of my favorite lines from this book, so far, is,
"The past is the past, and there isn't anything that can be done to change that. The future is the future, and whatever happens, will happen."
I still struggle, every day. Even writing this paper caused me to reflect greatly on past behavior. Additionally, there remains a part of me that believes that by overcoming this obsessive quest for the Perfect Ashlar, I can be a better Brother, Scoutmaster, Father, Husband, Friend. I am learning, though, that the kindness and Love that you give to others will never last, if you don't have kindness and Love for yourself.

~REJ

Robert Edward Jackson is a Past Master and Secretary of Montgomery Lodge located in Milford, MA. His Masonic lineage includes his Father (Robert Maitland), Grandfather (Maitland Garrecht), and Great Grandfather (Edward Henry Jackson), a founding member of Scarsdale Lodge #1094 in Scarsdale, NY. When not studying ritual, he's busy being a father to his three kids, a husband, Boy Scout Leader, and a network engineer to pay for it all. He can be reached at info@montgomerylodge.org

No Iron at the Building of Your Temple

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Erik Marks

The lesson in lecture that there was no sound of iron tools at the building of the temple has many implications in the application of masonry to everyday life. We are taught in our ritual from Deuteronomy 27:5 “and there shalt thou build an altar unto the LORD thy God, an altar of stones: thou shalt not lift up any iron tool upon them (stones).” Taken literally, we understand there were no iron or metal tools used at the site where the temple was constructed. Though an amazing feat, as masons we seek and learn more from the symbolic interpretations.

Freemasonry is simultaneously a psychologically strengthening and disarming process. In truth, the two are always correlated; the stronger the psyche the greater the cognitive flexibility and less need for constant vigilance or a defensive/offensive stance. No, personal disarmament doesn’t have to do with amending the United States Constitution, nor the constitutions of Freemasonry. Perhaps a détente of sorts, this process is not militaristic, though fully about easing interpersonal and intra-psychic tensions.

As we are prepared, we recognize one another to be of equal value thereby being leveled with all others; we are disarmed, psychologically, and choose to make ourselves vulnerable—intentionally. Introduced to a new sense of safety, we find ourselves amongst other men, many of whom we have never before met. At first, this is a symbolic expression of an ideal: when light is revealed, the hoodwink removed, it is confirmed we are fully protected by others who care deeply about our wellbeing and development. We are given the concept through ritual, not so much didactically, as a lecture. As we return to lodge regularly, over time, we come to know one another and the ideal vision is made manifest through a trust we co-construct. Therefore, I understand in the description that no sounds of metal heard at the worksite has to do with the manner in which we address the brethren and ourselves. These, in turn, a training ground for how to be in the larger world.

In the symbolic edict, we could consider both tools and weapons made of iron specifically, but any weapon, generally. With this interpretation, we are told there were no weapons brought to the building of the temple. It would be in keeping with the idea that the building of a spiritual edifice would be wholly a reverent activity, not combative. At very least an expectation that the temple would be built in relative safety, far from the reach of enemies, combat, or the need for arms. This concept is extended in that one leaves weapons at the door of the temple, to be disarmed before the Divine, and others in its presence, to commune. We leave the protection of the lodge to the Tyler.

Consider the following quote:

Every stone which was touched by iron, even though it was not damaged, is disqualified [for use] in building the altar…, as it is stated (Shemot 20:25): "By lifting your sword against it, you will have profaned it." (Hilkhot Bet Ha-Bechira 1:14-15).[i]

When we consider the personal temple being constructed and each man a living stone of the larger societal temple, we could say this interpretation implies we must not take up a weapon against any stone in the construction of the spiritual temple. In this reading, stone could refer to the individual brother or brethren as a collective; and as the purpose of masonry is to shine light into the world, it refers, by extension, to our actions in every-day life. The literal meaning is to not be violent towards your brothers. In the course of coming to lodge with increasing regularity as we progress, we get to know one another more deeply and quite naturally drop our defenses. We speak our minds and bond over food and ritual. At times, we may disagree on matters and agitate one another. Here the call to harmony is literal and interpersonal/psychological: don’t act out, physically, relationally, internally. The craft trains us to be fully ourselves, open, and to work to remain non-reactive to each other when conflict happens.

A slightly more interpersonal reading might suggest we watch our words (tyler and inside sentinel are corollaries to psychic and interpersonal guards). We watch for our weaponized words. We guard against passive-aggressive forays into being “right,” thereby causing disharmony in the lodge building and the building of each inner temple. We could take this construction further still to be careful with our intentions towards our brothers: Do I harbor resentments? Am I secretly angry at a brother? What weapons do I prepare in the silence of my sanctum against him? Can I set my weapons down? Will I have sufficient strength to relent?

I’ve heard said, and have said it myself in the past, until I knew better: “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Though one interpretation of the seemingly clever “intentions” quip is that remaining in a planning phase leads to lack of action. However, the quip has the profound negative effect of causing men to devalue their intentionality and not take into account motives and urges we disavow or keep from our conscious selves. By repeating this phrase to self and others, we relinquish our willingness to accept responsibility for the root causes of our actions and all their outcomes, internally and in the world.

The antidote: catechism, our ritual. It is a systematic dialogue with oneself, initially introduced to each man in lodge through ritual. We are taught the procedure in each degree by our officers, who symbolically represent aspects of our psyches in a command relationship with the Divine[ii]. We observe the process with each entry, passage, and raising of a stone. Through personal experience, observation, rehearsal, and performance of the exchanges, the desired outcome is that each man has the opportunity to operationalize this internal procedure to question himself and his intentions, urges, motives in real-time through the tests and trials of daily life.

Not every mason shares this understanding of our work and may choose to not use the education in the intended manner. Some, who are not ready for this level of self-examination, may not engage self in this way because it is mildly to wildly uncomfortable to remain in this level of self-examination for any length of time. Practicing masonry at this depth can evoke a great deal of uncertainty and vulnerability, which is natural and expectable. It can feel aversive until we walk the winded stair repeatedly over years. Then, a broader familiarity with self allows for greater foundational stability and decreased reactivity.

Taking this interpretation to the lone builder, working day and night on this personal temple we would inquire as to what weapons does he point at himself to his own detriment? Is he rough (The intra-psychic ruffian) with his own mind and demand too much progress or secrets before he is fully prepared[iii]? Is he caught in a conflict between the psychological officers of his inner lodge? Is he at odds with himself? The iron as symbolic weapon takes the form of verbal and linguistic cruelty, meanness, harsh thoughts directed at his Self. Rather than building, the inner assaults tear down progress made. Instead of strengthening, morale and spirit diminish and the foundation deteriorates.

Do we believe that being harsh, mean, or cruel, towards ourselves, in our own minds makes us stronger? The idea is a lie. Our symbols and ritual have always held the antidotes to the lie in the alchemical blend of beauty (emotion, aesthetics, junior warden, plumb) and strength (rationality, containment, senior warden, level) to produce Wisdom (compassion, mediation, empathic intentionality, master of the lodge, gavel).

The idea that cruelty at self or other is strengthening is a lie on the universal level, because if everything manifest in the world is the divine’s attempt to understand or express itself, when one raises a sword against the stone as self through being cruel, harsh, or mean, one raises that sword at a reflection of the divine and is therefore committing a heinous act against that which one professes to revere most.

Many of us have had this lie installed from before we could talk. It was the air we breathed; handed down over generations or implied by criticism levied against us, often by one or both parents. It is in our collective conscious and unconscious. Like a virus, the lie is adapted to infect humans, and is pernicious in the psyche. It is self-reinforcing and challenging to extract: “If I’m not hard on myself, who will be?” The implication that only through punishment, cruelty, harshness, and aggression are we able to progress. Just because this virus is relatively ubiquitous does not mean it is right. I see it far too often in my practice, far more in men than women. It both communicates and hides a deep level of shame we keep from light. If we bring the light, we will see. If we see, we will feel the shame and its pain. However, in the process of coming to light, we heal the shame and pain.

As Mason’s, we have an opportunity to use the content and methods of the fraternity to increase the probability we might remove and keep the iron from the process of perfection; that on the deepest levels, perfection can only happen without using metal tools in the construction. In our craft, we are encouraged to offer relief and charity to brothers, their families, our communities. The high regard for self is inherent in the architect’s blueprints. We are of no use to others if we hollow out our own structure, psychologically. In the fields of psychotherapy and counseling, Self-compassion training has gained prominence in the past fifteen years for both people being treated and those treating them. Recent research shows that self-compassion training has wide ranging benefits for everyone[iv] [v], men[vi] and veterans[vii].

The lie damages the psyche and Self because harshness and cruelty never evoke enduring strength, resilience, or determination; it pulls for and builds fear, doubt, resentment, and self-hatred. These ineffectual tactics tear down the work of the temple and defile the inner altars constructed to the divine, like foes engaging us using PsyOps[viii] (Psychological Operations, employed by military to influence motivations or break the morale of an opponent). Further still, adept leaders know positively focused constructive criticism and inspiration—bringing spirit to others or self—are the most effective motivational tools.

As one experiences, then witnesses, and eventually performs the ritual, it works upon the psyche to elevate the idea of harmony, charity, and effective construction rather than using violent language in a vain attempt to move toward self-improvement. Moreover, as men progress through the line, becoming increasingly proficient in each officer’s tasks and their psychological corollaries, one has greater capacity to build with efficacy. The education inherent in our ritual and practices allows men to continue their development and move toward the possibility of a more mature masculinity[ix].

Now is the time to test your metaphoric and symbolic metal: leave literal and psychological iron at the door of the temple. Search out the ore of ill intent in heart, mind, and gut. Set down the swords and daggers, the cruelty and mean-spirited reactivity directed at Self and others. As you labor with these ideas, it is my assertion your ability to find and tolerate more exponentially expand. It may bring up a lot of discomfort, even painful memories. This is the sign you are onto something important, you are developing and growing.

As you endure, persist with compassion, and train your psyche not to attack itself, you might find yourself with more energy and ease for the tasks in your life; eventually you may have more patience and tolerance with people with whom you interact towards those you care (though initially, patience may decrease due to the taxing nature of this emotional labor). In what seem like a paradox, your inner officers may also begin to test you more diligently, giving you rougher edges to smooth and, alas, resulting in increased wages. When this task is elusive or challenging to accomplish, talk with your brother builder about it and consult the designs of the Architect.

~EAM

Brother Erik Marks is a clinical social worker whose usual vocation has been in the field of human services in a wide range of settings since 1990. He was raised in 2017 by his biologically younger Brother and then Worshipful Master in Alpha Lodge in Framingham, MA. You may contact brother Marks by email: erik@StrongGrip.org
------
Citations:
[i] https://www.etzion.org.il/en/lecture-105-prohibition-using-iron-building-altar 

[ii] MacNulty, W. Kirk (2017). The way of the Craftsman.

[iii] Nagy, John S. (2009+). Uncommon Masonic Education series.

[iv] Germer, Chris (2009). The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion: Freeing yourself from destructive thoughts and emotions.

[v] Neff, Kristin (2015). Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself.

[vi] https://chrisgermer.com/msc-for-men/

[vii] Rabon, J.k., Hirsch, Kaniuka, et al. (2019). Self-compassion and suicide risk in veterans: when the going gets tough, do the tough benefit more from self-kindness? Mindfulness. ISSN 1868-8527 [multiple APA research articles produce similar conclusions, citations available upon request]

[viii] US Army (April 2005). FM3-05.301

[ix] Davis, Robert G. (2005). Understanding Manhood in America.

In Praise of Conductors

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Erik Marks



The first things I used to think of with the mention of the word,"conductor" were: music, electricity, and trains. These are still fine examples of the word. The direction and coordination of a large group of musicians, when done well, the conductor is the heart of the music, co-creating it with the people holding and operating instruments. In wiring, electricity travels on the outside of the conductor, something known as the skin effect. It is also what protects you from lightning inside a car or faraday cage. The better the conductor, the easier the flow of electrons to their destination. A superconductor is a material or a material treated in a particular manner. They are cooled to close to absolute zero (less than 1K or around -260 C) wherein all resistance vanishes. Facilitating travel, the train conductor collects tickets, aids in operations, and has the unfortunate task of ejecting the unruly.

Socrates was said to be the midwife of the soul. A conductor of sorts whose philosophic technique still moves me to other places and frames of mind that I find pleasingly challenging. I sometimes feel my soul moving. My mother, using her body, conducted me from concept to creation, my first home in this world. I am grateful to her for using her-self to bring me to life. Parents, relatives, teachers, friends, conducted me through early years to adaptations, ideas and knowledge I appreciate, and some I’m still working to renovate. Literature is filled with all sorts of guides, gurus, and other forms of conductors.

At the start of my Masonic journey, several men brought me to, or to me, conversations about my intentions, qualifications, and expectations. Some of them met with my family to discuss these same questions and offered counsel if there were concerns about my voluntary choice to join. Most of these men were present during my degrees. Three (LaJoie, Gianoukos, and Crooks) endured over breakfast, a lengthy interrogation by me, Corinna, and our sons, as to why women were excluded from what we do (which is when I learned first about GES, Amaranth, & Rainbow Girls).

Now, my experience of the word, "conductor", has significantly changed; my personal experience with the idea, broadened. I was led to the door, the West Gate, to the threshold of my conscious mind and instructed in our way to ask for greater understanding of myself, through our unique process. I was caringly and thoughtfully guided and prompted through the steps, stages, and lessons in darkness and light. Brothers Grenier, Snyder, LaJoie, and Goetz and will always remain presences and voices in my mind of those who tended to my preparation and conducted me through ritual with dignity and grace. Between degrees, Brothers Crooks, Bodley, and Ehrlich helped me perfect the words I needed to perform to progress. Worshipful Marks will always be the face I visualize in the east when I recite the ritual to myself or practice with a new, “younger,” brother.

More recently, as mentors and friends, a host of new and previous Brothers guide and conduct my progress. Worshipful Snyder recently performed from memory a lengthy introduction of me at my first presentation to a Lodge of Instruction (though following the amazing conversation brought by the Brethren who attended at Mt. Hollis Lodge in Holliston, MA, I now think of it as “Lodge of Inspiration”). As I’ve had good fortune to travel, Brothers Jackson, Jarzabek, and Johnson help me through what I write; they help me edit, and encourage me to persist when I feel like giving up.

So, I write in praise of those who have conducted me this far and to those who continue. As a group, you are my superconductors! (Though “cool” people, these superconductors operate at room temperature and also, decidedly, not in a vacuum. Room temperature superconductors are mostly theoretical, where the above-mentioned human conductors are verifiably, real). With gratitude I hold dear those mentioned by name and the many more not named here. We repeat it because it is true: I would never have met these amazing people if it had not been for Freemasonry. The diversity in their thoughts, backgrounds, and ways of living challenge me to rethink what I know, and how I came to know. They present me with their full selves so that I may be present fully as I am, and we figure it out. Through repeated contact, we grow in trust and capacity to be and act harmoniously in the face of criticism, challenge, disagreement (also in fun and faux pas): we help and instruct one another to do this work, together. As in a super-conductive state, our resistance to ourselves and others diminishes, maybe vanishes, in the presence of others who wish only to aid in our growth and learning; to help with the transmission of knowledge, experience, and self-understanding.

I encourage you to consider those still standing among us who have conducted you through life to reading this post. Let them know the ways they have shaped your experience in, and more importantly, outside, lodge. For those whom have been your conductor though no longer with us, consider sharing a story about them with another brother, in writing, maybe…here.

~EAM

Brother Erik Marks is a clinical social worker whose usual vocation has been in the field of human services in a wide range of settings since 1990. He was raised in 2017 by his biologically younger Brother and then Worshipful Master in Alpha Lodge in Framingham, MA. You may contact brother Marks by email: erik@StrongGrip.org