Eddie and the Macro

Like many of us, I glue myself to the morning news to listen to how AIG is squandering our assistance, how another 800 billion this or 800 billion that is going to double the rate of inflation and the like. I wonder how could such a small group do this and get away with it in the face of so many people.

“Hold them horses,” a few are saying right now and claiming that Masons don’t discuss politics. The heck you say. Masons better discuss politics. They are some of the best and most intellectual and caring men I have ever met and if they don’t take an interest there are going to be bigger problems in and with our country still.

To my point, and none too soon, as I am always in danger of being lost in a good story or some random ramblings—The Lodge as a Macrocosm of society and the lessons it has taught me.

Brother Eddie (the name is made up) is dutiful if nothing else. He makes every meeting, sits in the southeast next to the secretary’s desk with a long line of past masters that always sit in the same spot. They hold a kind of court. They scream out violations of parliamentary procedure to keep things on track, the screaming out of which is a violation of parliamentary procedure. They like to yell out the helpful word when one is missed on ritual and on a good night about half are yelling out the same word.

Anyway, Eddie never votes yes. He disagrees all the time. Not sure why, but we count on his no vote on every issue…even paying the bills.

Eddie, in our world is the extremist. Any and all extremist. I don’t mean this in the whole terrorist type sense…I mean those who hold views to the hard or extreme rights and lefts, always voicing their discontent on every issue. These are the one issue folks who honestly believe that every vote against their issue will destroy the world. They are happy to call names many times, fling a little mud, and then cry foul when you disagree with them even respectfully.

Back to Eddie—for forty years he has been voicing his opinion, and for about 38 years no one has listened. He used his voice a little too much, he nullified his own opinion by never quieting his passions. His vote in lodge is nullified by automatically being considered a no and his opinions are thus disregarded. He is considered as part of the process without making so much as a shadow of an impression on the minds of his fellows.

Masonry teaches many wonderful truths. One of them is the power of timing. Masons stand of the portico of the world between hard and right and wrong and stare into the Masonic world of potentiality. The possibility that there are several rights and several wrongs, or none of either, is a powerful potion for the mind. It can drive one mad, or set them free depending on the perspective.

I believe (this is important here, because these are my opinions) that the waste in the world, the theft, the extraordinary arrogance of ruling classes is made possible by the silencing of the voices by their own screams. When a society becomes chalk full of Eddies, the voices, rising collectively in their musical and anticipated whine, are so loud, they are never heard and simply discarded as part of the process. A small hiccup.

What if? What if we lived in a world where people sat back, contemplated the totality of a situation and cared for its outcome. What if we sat quietly for just a moment and then acted fast and firmly with decision and determination.

The man with the scythe stands behind her in the degrees. She weeps for that which is lost…for the loss of strength. Time has destroyed the crier and the screamer and stands poised to cut down beauty, the beauty of freewill and free choice if we do not heed the warnings.

Masonry teaches the power of words, well spoken ones. It also, via Eddie, taught me the powerlessness of words and how quickly they can come to mean nothing at all.

Pick your battles, pick your time, and choose your words wisely. Call a crime a crime, forgive the small ones, and don’t pretend that your opinion is the right one because it feels better. Stand on the portico of Masonry and look into your world from the lodge applying the lessons you have learned. Take an interest and labor in the quarry of your community, but do not ramble, do not scream, and do not believe that rhetoric without action will solve a thing. In many cases it might help to silence the masses as we all scream our wasted cries in unison.

Find the courage that you found as you were reminded that implements of man, to include your words, can be virtuous or torturous, charge forward, your faith is well founded, practice silence when necessary, and approach your world with balance.

That is the Relevance of Masonry, balance in a world that can’t find it and men whose voices are powerful because they are not allows billowing.

My Friend Walt

He is an interesting guy by his own right. An artist, a mystic, and good friend. He stands out to me when compared to most as he possesses a simply unique and unnerving quality that most can never hope to achieve. He is humble.

We were lucky to have Kirk MacNulty as a special guest and speaker at a recent lodge meeting. That is not the real story though.

The night prior to the big day, I was having dinner when the ol’ cell phone went off. I saw that it was the man I mentioned above, we’ll call him Walt, and I took the call. He explained that he was having a little trouble walking and was wondering if I might be able to assist with a ride to lodge. I was going in a little early, but knew my neighbor and Brother would love to assist and put the two in contact.

The point though. I asked, in passing, what was wrong. I inquired as to whether he had bum a knee or ankle knowing that extreme weather, hot or cold, seems to make my joints angry at mother nature on any given day. “No,” said the Brother, “I had a stint put in my heart.” He said it as matter of fact as one might say, “I had a wart removed” or “I stubbed my big toe.” The Brother continued, “That’s really not the issue, I just want to make sure I get to lodge on time.”

I was taken back a bit, but after ascertaining myself that the Brother would live, I hung up the phone. I reflected a bit upon this Brother as I have come to know him. He walks with bit of a shuffle, purposeful but not rushed. He listens intently and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he is absorbing all that goes on around him. He speaks softly, but chooses his words wisely. He is empathetic, kind, and hardworking.

He knows many of the world’s great mystics and introduced me to good friend of his that, it turns out, is worshipped as a god in Sri Lanka. He worked hand in hand with Manly P. Hall for many years and counts performers and famous authors among his close friends. He seldom refuses an opportunity for learning and takes no heed of bobbles of titles.

He is humble and he is a Mason.

The deepest and most esoteric philosophies of the Craft are well known by this Brother. He would never think to “bash” someone with them, to seek titles because of it, or to harm physically or intellectually those less equipped. He works in the quarry of everyday life for self improvement and in doing so improves the universe.

Ben Franklin once said, “Alas, if I were ever to become truly humble, I know that I would be proud of it.” This Brother has achieved it without so much as a blink. A natural and wonderful part of his nature.

In a world wear titles, achievement, and esteem are valued more than morality, kindness, and humility….I thought someone, somehow should bear witness to the fact that on a small plot of land, in the Midwest, is a relevant and humble Mason, teaching, both with is words and his actions, the life of the artist, the Mason, and Mystic. My friend Walt.