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2149 lines
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2149 lines
129 KiB
Plaintext
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<conspiracyFile>THE LOST KEYS OF FREEMASONRY or The Secret of Hiram Abiff by MANLY
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P. HALL
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PUBLISHER'S FOREWORD
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The steady demand and increasing popularity of this volume, of
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which eighteen thousand copies have been printed since it first
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appeared a few years ago, have brought the present revised and
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rearranged edition into being. The text can be read with profit by
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both new and old Mason, for within its pages lies an interpretation
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of Masonic symbolism which supplements the monitorial instruction
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usually given in the lodges.
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The leading Masonic scholars of all times have agreed that the
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symbols of the Fraternity are susceptible of the most profound
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interpretation and thus reveal to the truly initiated certain
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secrets concerning the spiritual realities of life. Freemasonry is
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therefore more than a mere social organization a few centuries old,
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and can be regarded as a perpetuation of the philosophical
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mysteries and initiations of the ancients. This is in keeping with
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the inner tradition of the Craft, a heritage from pre-Revival days.
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The present volume will appeal to the thoughtful Mason as an
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inspiring work, for it satisfies the yearning for further light and
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leads the initiate to that Sanctum Sanctorum where the mysteries
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are revealed. The book is a contribution to Masonic idealism,
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revealing the profounder aspects of our ancient and gentle
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Fraternity - those unique and distinctive features which have
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proved a constant inspiration through the centuries.
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FOREWORD
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By REYNOLD E. BLIGHT, 33 degree, K. T.
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Reality forever eludes us. Infinity mocks our puny efforts to
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imprison it in definition and dogma. Our most splendid
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realizations are only adumbrations of the Light. In his endeavors,
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man is but a mollusk seeking to encompass the ocean.
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Yet man may not cease his struggle to find God. There is a
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yearning in his soul that will not let him rest, an urge that
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compels him to attempt the impossible, to attain the unattainable.
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He lifts feeble hands to grasp the stars and despite a million
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years of failure and millenniums of disappointment, the soul of man
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springs heavenward with even greater avidity than when the race was
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young.
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He pursues, even though the flying ideal eternally slips from his
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embrace. Even though he never clasps the goddess of his dreams, he
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refuses to believe that she is a phantom. To him she is the only
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reality. He reaches upward and will not be content until the sword
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of Orion is in his hands, and glorious Arcturus glearns from his
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breast.
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Man is Parsifal searching for the Sacred Cup; Sir Launfal
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adventuring for the Holy Grail. Life is a divine adventure, a
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splendid quest
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Language falls. Words are mere cyphers, and who can read the
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riddle? These words we use, what are they but vain shadows of form
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and sense? We strive to clothe our highest thought with verbal
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trappings that our brother may see and understand; and when we
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would describe a saint he sees a demon; and when we would present a
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wise man he beholds a fool. "Fie upon you," he cries; "thou, too,
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art a fool."
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So wisdom drapes her truth with symbolism, and covers her insight
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with allegory. Creeds, rituals, poems are parables and symbols.
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The ignorant take them literally and build for themselves prison
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houses of words and with bitter speech and bitterer taunt denounce
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those who will not join them in the dungeon. Before the rapt
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vision of the seer, dogma and ceremony, legend and trope dissolve
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and fade, and he sees behind the fact the truth, behind the symbol
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the Reality.
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Through the shadow shines ever the Perfect Light.
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What is a Mason? He is a man who in his heart has been duly and
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truly prepared, has been found worthy and well qualified, has been
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admitted to the fraternity of builders, been invested with certain
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passwords and signs by which he may be enabled to work and receive
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wages as a Master Mason, and travel in foreign lands in search of
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that which was lost - The Word.
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Down through the misty vistas of the ages rings a clarion
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declaration and although the very heavens echo to the
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reverberations, but few hear and fewer understand: "In the
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beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was
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God."
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Here then is the eternal paradox. The Word is lost yet it is ever
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with us. The light that illumines the distant horizon shines in
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our hearts. "Thou wouldist not seek me hadst thou not found me." We
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travel afar only to find that which we hunger for at home.
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And as Victor Hugo says: "The thirst for the Infinite proves
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infinity."
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That which we seek lives in our souls.
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This, the unspeakable truth, the unutterable perfection, the author
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has set before us in these pages. Not a Mason himself, he has read
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the deeper meaning of the ritual. Not having assumed the formal
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obligations, he calls upon all mankind to enter into the holy of
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holies. Not initiated into the physical craft, he declares the
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secret doctrine that all may hear.
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With vivid allegory and profound philosophical disquisition he
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expounds the sublime teachings of Freemasonry, older than all
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religions, as universal as human aspiration.
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It is well. Blessed are the eyes that see, and the ears that hear,
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and the heart that understands.
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INTRODUCTION
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Freemasonry, though not a religion, is essentially religious. Most
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of its legends and allegories are of a sacred nature; much of it is
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woven into the structure of Christianity. We have learned to
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consider our own religion as the only inspired one, and this
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probably accounts for much of the misunderstanding in the world
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today concerning the place occupied by Freemasonry in the spiritual
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ethics of our race. A religion is a divinely inspired code of
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morals. A religious person is one inspired to nobler livi ng by
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this code. He is identified by the code which is his source of
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illumination. Thus we may say that a Christian is one who receives
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his spiritual ideals of right and wrong from the message of the
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Christ, while a Buddhist is one who molds his life into the
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archetype of morality given by the great Gautama, or one of the
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other Buddhas. All doctrines which seek to unfold and preserve
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that invisible spark in man named Spirit, are said to be spirit
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ual. Those which ignore this invisible element and concent rate
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entirely upon the visible are said to be material. There is in
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religion a wonderful point of balance, where the materialist and
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spiritist meet on the plane of logic and reason. Science and
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theology are two ends of a single truth, but the world will never
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receive the full benefit of their investigations until they have
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made peace with each other, and labor hand in hand for the
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accomplishment of the great work - the liberation of spirit and in
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telligence from the three-dimensional prison-house of ignora nce,
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superstition, and fear. That which gives man a knowledge of himself
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can be inspired only by the Self - and God is the Self in all
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things. In truth, He is the inspiration and the thing inspired. It
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has been stated in Scripture that God was the Word and that the
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Word was made flesh. Man's task now is to make flesh reflect the
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glory of that Word, which is within the soul of himself. It is
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this task which has created the need of religion - not one faith
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alone but many creeds, each searching in its own way, e ach meeting
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the needs of individual people, each emphasizing one point above
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all the others.
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Twelve Fellow Craftsmen are exploring the four points of the
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compass. Are not these twelve the twelve great world religions,
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each seeking in its own way for that which was lost in the ages
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past, and the quest of which is the birthright of man? Is not the
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quest for Reality in a world of illusions the task for which each
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comes into the world? We are here to gain balance in a sphere of
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unbalance; to find rest in a restless thing; to unveil illusion;
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and to slay the dragon of our own animal natures. As David, King
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of Israel, gave to the hands of his son Solomon the task he could
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not accomplish, so each generation gives to the next the work of
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building the temple, or rather, rebuilding the dwelling of the
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Lord, which is on Mount Moriah.
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Truth is not lost, yet it must be sought for and found. Reality is
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ever-present - dimensionless yet all-prevailing. Man - creature of
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attitudes and desires, and servant of impressions and opinions -
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cannot, with the wavering unbalance of an untutored mind, learn to
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know that which he himself does not possess. As man attains a
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quality, he discovers that quality, and recognizes about him the
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thing newborn within himself. Man is born with eyes, yet only
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after long years of sorrow does he learn to see clearl y and in
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harmony with the Plan. He is born with senses, but only after long
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experience and fruitless strivings does he bring these senses to
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the temple and lays them as offerings upon the altar of the great
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Father, who alone does all things well and with understanding. Man
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is, in truth, born in the sin of ignorance, but with a capacity for
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understanding. He has a mind capable of wisdom, a heart capable of
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feeling, and a hand strong for the great work in life - truing the
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rough ashlar into the perfect sto ne.
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What more can any creature ask than the opportunity to prove the
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thing he is, the dream that inspires him, the vision that leads him
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on? We have no right to ask for wisdom. In whose name do we beg
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for understanding? By what authority do we demand happiness? None
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of these things is the birthright of any creature; yet all may have
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them, if they will cultivate within themselves the thing that they
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desire. There is no need of asking, nor does any Deity bow down to
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give man these things that he desires. Man i s given by Nature, a
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gift, and that gift is the privilege of labor. Through labor he
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learns all things.
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Religions are groups of people, gathered together in the labor of
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learning. The world is a school. We are here to learn, and our
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presence here proves our need of instruction. Every living
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creature is struggling to break the strangling bonds of limitation
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- that pressing narrowness which inhabits vision and leaves the
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life without an ideal. Every soul is engaged in a great work - the
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labor of personal liberation from the state of ignorance. The
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world is a great prison; its bars are the Unknown. And eac h is a
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prisoner until, at last, he earns the right to tear these bars from
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their moldering sockets, and pass, illuminated and inspired, into
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the darkness, which becomes lighted by that presence. All peoples
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seek the temple where God dwells, where the spirit of the great
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Truth illuminates the shadows of human ignorance, but they know not
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which way to turn nor where this temple is. The mist of dogma
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surrounds them. Ages of thoughtlessness bind them in. Limitation
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weakens them and retards their footsteps. They wander in darkness
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seeking light, failing to realize that the Eght is in the heart of
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the darkness.
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To the few who have found Him, God is revealed. These, in turn,
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reveal Him to man, striving to tell ignorance the message of
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wisdom. But seldom does man understand the mystery that has been
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unveiled. He tries weakly to follow in the steps of those who have
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attained, but all too often finds the path more difficult than he
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even dreamed. So he kneels in prayer before the mountain he cannot
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climb, from whose top gleams the light which he is neither strong
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enough to reach nor wise enough to comprehend. He l ives the law
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as he knows it, always fearing in his heart that he has not read
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aright the flaming letters in the sky, and that in living the
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letter of the Law he has murdered the spirit. Man bows humbly to
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the Unknown, peopling the shadows of his own ignorance with saints
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and saviors, ghosts and spectres, gods and demons. Ignorance fears
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all things, falling, terror-stricken before the passing wind.
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Superstition stands as the monument to ignorance, and b efore it
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kneel all who realize their own weakness; wh o see in all things
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the strength they do not possess; who give to sticks and stones the
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power to bruise them; who change the beauties of Nature into the
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dwelling place of ghouls and ogres. Wisdom fears no thing, but
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still bows humbly to its own Source. While superstition hates all
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things, wisdom, with its deeper understanding, loves all things;
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for it has seen the beauty, the tenderness, and the sweetness which
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underlie Life's mystery.
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Life is the span of time appointed for accomplishment. Every
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fleeting moment is an opportunity, and those who are great are the
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ones who have recognized life as the opportunity for all things.
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Arts, sciences, and religions are monuments standing for what
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humanity has already accomplished. They stand as memorials to the
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unfolding mind of man, and through them man acquires more efficient
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and more intelligent methods of attaining prescribed results.
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Blessed are those who can profit by the experiences of ot hers;
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who, adding to that which has already been built, can make their
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inspiration real, their dreams practical. Those who give man the
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things he needs, while seldom appreciated in their own age, are
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later recognized as the Saviors of the human race.
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Masonry is a structure built upon experience. Each stone is a
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sequential step in the unfolding of intelligence. The shrines of
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Masonry are ornamented by the jewels of a thousand ages; its
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rituals ring with the words of enlightened seers and illuminated
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sages. A hundred religions have brought their gifts of wisdom to
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its altar. Arts and sciences unnumbered have contributed to its
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symbolism. It is more than a faith; it is a path of certainty. It
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is more than a belief; it is a fact. Masonry is a univers ity,
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teaching the liberal arts and sciences of the soul to all who will
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attend to its words. It is a shadow of the great Atlantean Mystery
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School, which stood with all its splendor in the ancient City of
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the Golden Gates, where now the turbulent Atlantic rolls in
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unbroken sweep. Its chairs are seats of learning; its pillars
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uphold the arch of universal education, not only in material
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things, but also in those qualities which are of the spirit. Up on
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its trestleboards are inscribed the sacred truths of all nations
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and of all peoples, and upon those who understand its sacred depths
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has dawned the great Reality. Masonry is, in truth, that long-lost
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thing which all peoples have sought in all ages. Masonry is the
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common denominator as well as the common devisor of human
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aspiration.
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Most of the religions of the world are like processions: one leads,
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and the many follow. In the footsteps of the demigods, man follows
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in his search for truth and illumination. The Christian follows
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the gentle Nazarene up the winding slopes of Calvary. The Buddhist
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follows his great emancipator through his wanderings in the
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wilderness. The Mohammedan makes his pilgrimage across the desert
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sands to the black tent at Mecca. Truth leads, and ignorance
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follows in his train. Spirit blazes the trail, and ma tter follows
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behind. In the world today ideals live but a moment in their
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purity, before the gathering hosts of darkness snuff out the
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gleaming spark. The Mystery School, however, remains unmoved. It
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does not bring its light to man; man must bring his light to it.
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Ideals, coming into the world, become idols within a few short
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hours, but man, entering the gates of the sanctuary, changes the
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idol back to an ideal.
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Man is climbing an endless flight of steps, with his eyes fixed
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upon the goal at the top. Many cannot see the goal, and only one
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or two steps are visible before them. He has learned, however, one
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great lesson - namely, that as he builds his own character he is
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given strength to climb the steps. Hence a Mason is a builder of
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the temple of character. He is the architect of a sublime mystery
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- the gleaming, glowing temple of his own soul. He realizes that
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he best serves God when he joins with the Great Ar chitect in
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building more noble structures in the universe below. All who are
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attempting to attain mastery through constructive efforts are
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Masons at heart, regardless of religious sect or belief. A Mason
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is not necessarily a member of a lodge. In a broad sense, he is
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any person who daily tries to live the Masonic life, and to serve
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intelligently the needs of the Great Architect. The Masonic
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brother pledges himself to assist all other temple-builders in
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whatever extremity of life; and in so doing he pled ges himself to
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every living thing, for they are all temple-builders, building more
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noble structures to the glory of the universal God.
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The true Masonic Lodge is a Mystery School, a place where
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candidates are taken out of the follies and foibles of the world
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and instructed in the mysteries of life, relationships, and the
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identity of that germ of spiritual essence within, which is, in
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truth, the Son of God, beloved of His Father. The Mason views life
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seriously, realizing that every wasted moment is a lost
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opportunity, and that Omnipotence is gained only through
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earnestness and endeavor. Above all other relationships he
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recognizes the unive rsal brotherhood of every living thing. The
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symbol of the clasped hands, explained in the Lodge, reflects his
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attitude towards all the world, for he is the comrade of all
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created things. He realizes also that his spirit is a glowing,
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gleaming jewel which he must enshrine within a holy temple built by
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the labor of his hands, the meditation of his heart, and the
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aspiration of his soul.
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Freemasonry is a philosophy which is essentially creedless. It is
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the truer for it. Its brothers bow to truth regardless of the
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bearer; they serve light, instead of wrangling over the one who
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brings it. In this way they prove that they are seeking to know
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better the will and the dictates of the Invincible One. No truer
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religion exists than that of world comradeship and brotherhood, for
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the purpose of glorifying one God and building for Him a temple of
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constructive attitude and noble character.
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PROLOGUE
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IN THE FIELDS OF CHAOS
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The first flush of awakening Life pierced the impenetrable expanse
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of Cosmic Night, turning the darkness of negation into the dim
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twilight of unfolding being. Silhouetted against the shadowy
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gateways of Eternity, the lonely figure of a mystic stranger stood
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upon the nebulous banks of swirling substance. Robed in a shimmery
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blue mantle of mystery and his head encircled by a golden crown of
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dazzling light, the darkness of Chaos fled before the rays that
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poured like streams of living fire from his form divin e.
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From some Cosmos greater far than ours this mystic visitor came,
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answering the call of Divinity. From star to star he strode and
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from world to universe he was known, yet forever concealed by the
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filmy garments of chaotic night. Suddenly the clouds broke and a
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wondrous light descended from somewhere among the seething waves of
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force; it bathed this lonely form in a radiance celestial, each
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sparkling crystal of mist gleaming like a diamond bathed in the
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living fire of the Divine.
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In the gleaming flame of cosmic light bordered by the dark clouds
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of not-being two great forms appeared and a mighty Voice thrilled
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eternity, each sparkling atom pulsating with the power of the
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Creator's Word* while the great blue-robed figure bowed in awe
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before the foot-stool of His Maker as a hand reached down from
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heaven, its fingers extended the benediction.
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"Of all creation I have chosen you and upon you my seal is placed.
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You are the chosen instrument of my hand and I appoint you to be
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the Builder of my Temple. You shall raise its pillars and tile its
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floor; you shall ornament it with metals and with jewels and you
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shall be the master of my workmen. In your hands I place the plans
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and here on the tracing board of livig substance I have impressed
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the plan you are to follow, tracing its every letter and angle in
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the fiery lines of my moving finger. Hiram Ab iff, chosen builder
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of your Father's house, up and to your work. Yonder are the fleecy
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clouds, the
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* The Creative Fiat, or rate of vibration through which all things
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are created.
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gray mists of dawn, the gleams of heavenly light, and the darkness
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of the sleep of creation. From these shall you build, without the
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sound of hammer or the voice of workmen, the temple of your God,
|
||
|
eternal in the heavens. The swirling, ceaseless motion of negation
|
||
|
you shall chain to grind your stones. Among these spirits of
|
||
|
not-being shall you slack your lime and lay your footings; for I
|
||
|
have watched you through the years of your youth; I have guided you
|
||
|
through the days of your manhood. I have weighed y ou in the
|
||
|
balance and you have not been found wanting. Therefore, to you
|
||
|
give I the glory of work, and here ordain you as the Builder of my
|
||
|
House. Unto you I give the word of the Master Builder; unto you I
|
||
|
give the tools of the craft; unto you I give the power that has
|
||
|
been vested in me. Be faithful unto these things. Bring them back
|
||
|
when you have finished, and I will give you the name known to God
|
||
|
alone. So mote it be."
|
||
|
The great light died out of the heavens, the streaming fingers of
|
||
|
living light vanished in the misty, lonely twilight, and again
|
||
|
covered not-being with its sable mantle. Hiram Abiff again stood
|
||
|
alone, gazing out into the endless ocean of oblivion - nothing but
|
||
|
swirling, seething matter as far as eye could see. Then he
|
||
|
straightened his shoulders and, taking the trestleboard in his
|
||
|
hands and clasping to his heart the glowing Word of the Master,
|
||
|
walked slowly away and was swallowed up in the mists of primord ial
|
||
|
dawn.
|
||
|
How may man measure timeless eternity? Ages passed, and the lonely
|
||
|
Builder labored with his plan with only love and humility in his
|
||
|
heart, his hand molding the darkness which he blessed while his
|
||
|
eyes were raised above where the Great Light had shone down from
|
||
|
heaven. In the divine solitude he labored, with no voice to cheer,
|
||
|
no spirit to condemn - alone in the boundless all with the great
|
||
|
chill of the morning mist upon his brow, but his heart still warm
|
||
|
with the light of the Master's Word. It seemed a ho peless task.
|
||
|
No single pair of hands could mold that darkness; no single heart,
|
||
|
no matter how true, could be great enough to project pulsing cosmic
|
||
|
love into the cold mist of oblivion. Though the darkness settled
|
||
|
ever closer about him and the misty fingers of negation twined
|
||
|
round his being, still with divine trust the Builder labored; with
|
||
|
divine hope he laid his footings, and from the boundless clay he
|
||
|
made the molds to cast his sacred ornaments. Slowl y the building
|
||
|
grew and dim forms molded by the Maste r's hand took shape about
|
||
|
him. Three huge, soulless creatures had the Master fashioned, great
|
||
|
beings which loomed like grim spectres in the semi-darkness. They
|
||
|
were three builders he had blessed and now in stately file they
|
||
|
passed before him, and Hiram held out his arms to his creation,
|
||
|
saying, "Brothers, I have built you for your works. I have formed
|
||
|
you to labor with me in the building of the Master's house. You
|
||
|
are the children of my being; I have labored with yo u, now labor
|
||
|
with me for the glory of o ur God."
|
||
|
But the spectres laughed. Turning upon their maker and striking him
|
||
|
with his own tools given him by God out of heaven, they left their
|
||
|
Grand Master dying in the midst of his labors, broken and crushed
|
||
|
by the threefold powers of cosmic night. As he lay bleeding at the
|
||
|
feet of his handiwork the martyred Builder raised his eyes to the
|
||
|
seething clouds, and his face was sweet with divine love and cosmic
|
||
|
understanding as he prayed unto the Master who had sent him forth:
|
||
|
"O Master of Workmen, Great Architect of the universe, my labors
|
||
|
are not finished. Why must they always remain undone? I have not
|
||
|
completed the thing for which Thou hast sent me unto being, for my
|
||
|
very creations have turned against me and the tools Thou gavest me
|
||
|
have destroyed me. The children that I formed in love, in their
|
||
|
ignorance have murdered me. Here, Father, is the Word Thou gavest
|
||
|
me now red with my own blood. O Master, I return it to Thee for I
|
||
|
have kept it sacred in my heart. Here are the too ls, the tracing
|
||
|
board, and the vessels I have wrought. Around me stand the ruins
|
||
|
of my temple which I must leave. Unto Thee, O God, the divine
|
||
|
Knower of all things, I return them all, realizing that in Thy good
|
||
|
time lies the fulfillment of all things. Thou, O God, knowest our
|
||
|
down-sitting and our uprising and Thou understandest our thoughts
|
||
|
afar off. In Thy name, Father, I have labored and in Thy cause I
|
||
|
die, a faithful builder."
|
||
|
The Master fell back, his upturned face sweet in the last repose of
|
||
|
death, and the light rays no longer pouring from him. The gray
|
||
|
clouds gathered closer as though to form a winding sheet around the
|
||
|
body of their murdered Master.
|
||
|
Suddenly the heavens opened again and a shaft of light bathed the
|
||
|
form of Hiram in a glory celestial. Again the Voice spoke from the
|
||
|
heavens where the Great King sat upon the clouds of creation: "He
|
||
|
is not dead; he is asleep. Who will awaken him? His labors are not
|
||
|
done, and in death he guards the sacred relics more closely than
|
||
|
ever, for the Word and the tracing board are his - I have given
|
||
|
them to him. But he must remain asleep until these three who have
|
||
|
slain him shall bring him back to life, for ever y wrong must be
|
||
|
righted, and the slayers of my house, the destroyers of my temple,
|
||
|
must labor in the place of their Builder until they raise their
|
||
|
Master from the dead."
|
||
|
The three murderers fell on their knees and raised their hands to
|
||
|
heaven as though to ward off the light which had disclosed their
|
||
|
crime: "O God, great is our sin, for we have slain our Grand
|
||
|
Master, Hiram Abiff! Just is Thy punishment and as we have slain
|
||
|
him we now dedicate our lives to his resurrection. The first was
|
||
|
our human weakness, the second our sacred duty."
|
||
|
"Be it so," answered the Voice from Heaven. The great Light
|
||
|
vanished and the clouds of darkness and mist concealed the body of
|
||
|
the murdered Master. It was swallowed up in the swirling darkness
|
||
|
which left no mark, no gravestone to mark the place where the
|
||
|
Builder had lain.
|
||
|
"O God!" cried the three murderers, "where shall we find our Master
|
||
|
now?"
|
||
|
A hand reached down again from the Great Unseen and a tiny lamp was
|
||
|
handed them, whose oil flame burned silently and clearly in the
|
||
|
darkness. "By this light shall ye seek him whom ye have slain."
|
||
|
The three forms surrounded the light and bowed in prayer and
|
||
|
thanksgiving for this solitary gleam which was to light the
|
||
|
darkness of their way. From somewhere above in the regions of
|
||
|
not-being the great Voice spoke, a thundering Voice that filled
|
||
|
Chaos with its sound: "He cometh forth as a flower and is cut down;
|
||
|
he teeth also as a shadow and continueth not; as the waters fail
|
||
|
from the sea and the flood decayeth and drieth up, so man lieth
|
||
|
down and riseth not again. Yet have I compassion upon the children
|
||
|
of my creation; I administer unto them in time of trouble and save
|
||
|
them with an everlasting salvation. Seek ye where the broken twig
|
||
|
lies and the dead stick molds away, where the clouds float together
|
||
|
and the stones rest by the hillside, for all these mark the grave
|
||
|
of Hiram who has carried my Will with him to the tomb. This
|
||
|
eternal quest is yours until ye have found your Builder, until the
|
||
|
cup giveth up its secret, until the grave givet h up its ghosts.
|
||
|
No more shall I speak until ye have found and rais ed my beloved
|
||
|
Son, and have listened to the words of my Messenger and with Him as
|
||
|
your guide have finished the temple which I shall then inhabit.
|
||
|
Amen."
|
||
|
The gray dawn still lay asleep in the arms of darkness. Out
|
||
|
through the great mystery of not-being all was silence, unknowable.
|
||
|
Through the misty dawn, like strange phantoms of a dream, three
|
||
|
figures wandered over the great Unknown carrying in their hands a
|
||
|
tiny light, the lamp given to them by their Builder's Father. Over
|
||
|
stick and stone and cloud and star they wandered, eternally in
|
||
|
search of a silent grave, stopping again and again to explore the
|
||
|
depths of some mystic recess, praying for liberation fr om their
|
||
|
endless search; yet bound by their vows to raise the Builder they
|
||
|
had slain, whose grave was marked by the broken twig, and whose
|
||
|
body was laid away in the white winding sheet of death somewhere
|
||
|
over the brow of the eternal hill.
|
||
|
TEMPLE BUILDERS
|
||
|
You are the temple builders of the future. With your hands must be
|
||
|
raised the domes and spires of a coming civilization. Upon the
|
||
|
foundation you have laid, tomorrow shall build a far more noble
|
||
|
edifice. Builders of the temple of character wherein should dwell
|
||
|
an enlightened spirit; truers of the rock of relationship; molders
|
||
|
of those vessels created to contain the oil of life: up, and to the
|
||
|
task appointed! Never before in the history of men have you had the
|
||
|
opportunity that now confronts you. The world waits - waits for the
|
||
|
illuminated one who shall come from between the pillars of the
|
||
|
portico. Humility, hoodwinked and bound, seeks entrance to the
|
||
|
temple of wisdom. Fling wide the gate, and let the worthy enter.
|
||
|
Fling wide the gate, and let the light that is the life of men
|
||
|
shine forth. Hasten to complete the dwelling of the Lord, that the
|
||
|
Spirit of God may come and dwell among His people, sanctified and
|
||
|
ordained according to His law.
|
||
|
CHAPTER I
|
||
|
THE ETERNAL QUEST
|
||
|
The average Mason, as well as the modern student of Masonic ideals,
|
||
|
little realizes the cosmic obligation he takes upon himself when he
|
||
|
begins his search for the sacred truths of Nature as they are
|
||
|
concealed in the ancient and modern rituals. He must not lightly
|
||
|
regard his vows, and if he would not bring upon himself years and
|
||
|
ages of suffering he must cease to consider Freemasonry solely as a
|
||
|
social order only a few centuries old. He must realize that the
|
||
|
ancient mystic teachings as perpetuated in the mo dern rites are
|
||
|
sacred, and that powers unseen and unrecognized mold the destiny of
|
||
|
those who consciously and of their own free will take upon
|
||
|
themselves the obligations of the Fraternity.
|
||
|
Freemasonry is not a material thing: it is a science of the soul;
|
||
|
it is not a creed or doctrine but a universal expression of the
|
||
|
Divine Wisdom.* The coming together of medieval guilds or even the
|
||
|
building of Solomon's temple as it is understood today has little,
|
||
|
if anything, to do with the true origin of Freemasonry, for Masonry
|
||
|
does not deal with personalities. In its highest sense, it is
|
||
|
neither historical nor archaeological, but is a divine symbolic
|
||
|
language perpetuating under certain concrete symbols the sacred
|
||
|
mysteries of the ancients. Only those who see in it a cosmic
|
||
|
study, a life work, a divine inspiration to better thinking, better
|
||
|
feeling, and better living, with the spiritual attainment of
|
||
|
enlightenment as the end, and with the daily life of the true Mason
|
||
|
as the means, have gained even the slightest insight into the true
|
||
|
mysteries of the ancient rites.
|
||
|
The age of the Masonic school is not to be calculated by hundreds
|
||
|
or even thousands of years, for it never had any origin in the
|
||
|
worlds of form. The world as we see it is merely an experimental
|
||
|
laboratory in which man is laboring to build and express greater
|
||
|
and more perfect vehicles. Into this laboratory pour myriads
|
||
|
*This term is used as synonymous with a very secret and sacred
|
||
|
philosophy that has existed for all time, and has been the
|
||
|
inspiration of the great saints and sages of all ages, i. e., the
|
||
|
perfect wisdom of God, revealing itself through a secret hierarchy
|
||
|
of illumined minds.
|
||
|
of rays descending from the cosmic hierarchies.* These mighty
|
||
|
globes and orbs which focus their energies upon mankind and mold
|
||
|
its destiny do so in an orderly manner, each in its own way and
|
||
|
place, and it is the working of these mystic hierarchies in the
|
||
|
universe which forms the pattern around which the Masonic school
|
||
|
has been built, for the true lodge of the Mason is the universe.
|
||
|
Freed of limitations of creed and sect, he stands a master of all
|
||
|
faiths, and those who take up the study of Freemasonry witho ut
|
||
|
realizing the depth, the beauty, and the spiritual power of its
|
||
|
philosophy can never gain anything of permanence from their
|
||
|
studies. The age of the Mystery Schools can be traced by the
|
||
|
student back to the dawn of time, ages and aeons ago, when the
|
||
|
temple of the Solar Man was in the making. That was the first
|
||
|
Temple of the King, and therein were given and laid down the true
|
||
|
mysteries of the ancient lodge, and it was the gods of creation and
|
||
|
th e spirits of the dawn who first tiled the Master's lodge.
|
||
|
The initiated brother realizes that his so called symbols and
|
||
|
rituals are merely blinds
|
||
|
*The groups of celestial intelligences governing the creative
|
||
|
processes in cosmos.
|
||
|
fabricated by the wise to perpetuate ideas incomprehensible to the
|
||
|
average individual. He also realizes that few Masons of today know
|
||
|
or appreciate the mystic meaning concealed within these rituals.
|
||
|
With religious faith we perpetuate the form, worshiping it instead
|
||
|
of the life, but those who have not recognized the truth in the
|
||
|
crystallized ritual, those who have not liberated the spiritual
|
||
|
germ from the shell of empty words, are not Masons, regardless of
|
||
|
their physical degrees and outward honors.
|
||
|
In the work we are taking up it is not the intention to dwell upon
|
||
|
the modern concepts of the Craft but to consider Freemasonry as it
|
||
|
really is to those who know, a great cosmic organism whose true
|
||
|
brothers and children are tied together not by spoken oaths but by
|
||
|
lives so lived that they are capable of seeing through the blank
|
||
|
wall and opening the window which is now concealed by the rubbish
|
||
|
of materiality. When this is done and the mysteries of the
|
||
|
universe unfold before the aspiring candidate, then in t ruth he
|
||
|
discovers what Freemasonry really is. Its material aspects
|
||
|
interest him no longer for he has unmasked the Mystery School which
|
||
|
he is capable of recognizing only when he himself has spiritually
|
||
|
become a member of it.
|
||
|
Those who have examined and studied its ancient lore have no doubt
|
||
|
that Freemasonry, like the universe itself, which is the greatest
|
||
|
of all schools, deals with the unfolding of a three-fold principle;
|
||
|
for all the universe is governed by the same three kings who are
|
||
|
called the builders of the Masonic temple. They are not
|
||
|
personalities but principles, great intelligent energies and powers
|
||
|
which in God, man, and the universe have charge of the molding of
|
||
|
cosmic substance into the habitation of the living king , the
|
||
|
temple built through the ages first of unconscious and then
|
||
|
conscious effort on the part of every individual who is expressing
|
||
|
in his daily life the creative principles of these three kings.
|
||
|
The true brodaer of the ancient Craft realized that the completion
|
||
|
of the temple he was building to the King of the Universe was a
|
||
|
duty or rather a privilege which he owed to his God, to his
|
||
|
brother, and to himself. He knew that certain steps must be taken
|
||
|
and that his temple must be built according to the plan. Today it
|
||
|
seems that the plan is lost, however, for in the majority of cases
|
||
|
Freemasonry is no longer an operative art but is merely a
|
||
|
speculative idea until each brother, reading the mystery of hi s
|
||
|
symbols and pondering over the beautiful allegories unfolded in his
|
||
|
ritual, realizes that he himself contains the keys and the plans so
|
||
|
long lost to his Craft and that if he would ever learn Freemasonry
|
||
|
he must unlock its doors with the key wrought from the base metals
|
||
|
of his own being.
|
||
|
True Freemasonry is esoteric; it is not a thing of this world. All
|
||
|
that we have here is a link, a doorway, through which the student
|
||
|
may pass into the unknown. Freemasonry has nothing to do with
|
||
|
things of form save that it realizes form is molded by and
|
||
|
manifests the life it contains. Consequently the student is
|
||
|
seeking so to mold his life that the form will glorify the God
|
||
|
whose temple he is slowly building as he awakens one by one the
|
||
|
workmen within himself and directs them to carry out the plan that
|
||
|
h as been given him out of heaven.
|
||
|
So far as it is possible to discover, ancient Freemasonry and the
|
||
|
beautiful cosmic allegories that it teaches, perpetuated through
|
||
|
hundreds of lodges and ancient mysteries, forms the oldest of the
|
||
|
Mystery Schools;* and its preser-
|
||
|
* This is a term used by the ancients to designate the esoteric
|
||
|
side of their religious ceremonials. The candidate passing through
|
||
|
these mysteries was initiated into the mysteries of Nature and the
|
||
|
arcane side of natural law.
|
||
|
vation through the ages has not depended upon itself as an exoteric
|
||
|
body of partly evolved individuals but upon a concealed
|
||
|
brotherhood, the exoteric side of Freemasonry. All the great
|
||
|
mystery, Schools have hierarchies upon the spiritual planes of
|
||
|
Nature which are expressing themselves in this world through creeds
|
||
|
and organizations. The true student seeks to lift himself from the
|
||
|
exoteric body upward spiritually until he joins the esoteric group
|
||
|
which, without a lodge on the physical plane of Nature, is fa r
|
||
|
greater than all the lodges of which it is the central fire. The
|
||
|
spiritual instructors of humanity are forced to labor in the
|
||
|
concrete world with things comprehensible to the concrete mind, and
|
||
|
there man begins to comprehend the meaning of the allegories and
|
||
|
symbols which surround his exoteric work as soon as he prepares
|
||
|
himself to receive them. The true Mason realizes that the work of
|
||
|
the Mystery Schools in the world is of an inclusive rathe r than an
|
||
|
exclusive nature, and that the only lodge which is b road enough to
|
||
|
express his ideals is one whose dome is the heavens, whose pillars
|
||
|
are the corners of creation, whose checker-board floor is composed
|
||
|
of the crossing currents of human emotion and whose altar is the
|
||
|
human heart. Creeds cannot bind the true seeker for truth.
|
||
|
Realizing the unity of all truth, the Mason also realizes that the
|
||
|
hierarchies laboring with him have given him in his varying degrees
|
||
|
the mystic spiritual rituals of all the Mystery S chools in the
|
||
|
world, and if he would fill his place i n the plan he must not
|
||
|
enter this sacred study for what he can get out of it but that he
|
||
|
may learn how to serve.
|
||
|
In Freemasonry is concealed the mystery of creation, the answer to
|
||
|
the problem of existence, and the path the student must tread in
|
||
|
order to join those who are really the living powers behind the
|
||
|
thrones of modern national and international affairs. The true
|
||
|
student realizes most of all that the taking of degrees does not
|
||
|
make a man a Mason. A Mason is not appointed; he is evolved and he
|
||
|
must realize that the position he holds in the exoteric lodge means
|
||
|
nothing compared to his position in the spiritual l odge of life.
|
||
|
He must forever discard the idea that he can be told or instructed
|
||
|
in the sacred Mysteries or that his being a member of an
|
||
|
organization improves him in any way. He must realize that his
|
||
|
duty is to build and evolve the sacred teachings in his own being:
|
||
|
that nothing but his own purified being can unlock the door to the
|
||
|
sealed libraries of human consciousness, and that his Masonic rites
|
||
|
must eternally be speculative until he makes them opera tive by
|
||
|
living the life of the mystic Mason. His ka rmic responsibilities
|
||
|
increase with his opportunities. Those who are surrounded with
|
||
|
knowledge and opportunity for self-improvement and make nothing of
|
||
|
these opportunities are the lazy workmen who will be spiritually,
|
||
|
if not physically, cast out of the temple of the king.
|
||
|
The Masonic order is not a mere social organization, but is
|
||
|
composed of all those who have banded themselves together to learn
|
||
|
and apply the principles of mysticism and the occult rites. They
|
||
|
are (or should be) philosophers, sages and sober-minded individuals
|
||
|
who have dedicated thernselves upon the Masonic altar and vowed by
|
||
|
all they hold dear that the world shall be better, wiser, and
|
||
|
happier because they have lived. Those who enter these mystic
|
||
|
rites and pass between the pillars seeking either prestige or
|
||
|
commercial advantage are blasphemers, and while in this world we
|
||
|
may count them as successful, they are the cosmic failures who have
|
||
|
barred themselves out from the true rite whose keynote is
|
||
|
unselfishness and whose workers have renounced the things of earth.
|
||
|
In ancient times many years of preparation were required before the
|
||
|
neophyte was permitted to enter the temple of the Mysteries. In
|
||
|
this way the shallow, the curious, the faint of heart, and those
|
||
|
unable to withstand the temptations of life were automatically
|
||
|
eliminated by their inability to meet the requirements for
|
||
|
admission. The successful candidate wbo did pass between the
|
||
|
pillars entered the temple, keenly realizing his sublime
|
||
|
opportunity, his divine obligation, and the mystic privilege which
|
||
|
he had earned for himself through years of special preparation.
|
||
|
Only those are truly Masons who enter their temple in reverence,
|
||
|
who seek not the ephemeral things of life but the treasures which
|
||
|
are eternal, whose sole desire is to know the true mystery of the
|
||
|
Craft that they may join as honest workmen those who have gone
|
||
|
before as builders of the Universal Temple. The Masonic ritual is
|
||
|
not a ceremony, but a life to be lived. Those alone are truly
|
||
|
Masons who, dedicating their lives and their fortunes upo n the a
|
||
|
ltar of the living flame, undertake the construction of the one
|
||
|
universal building of which they are the workmen and their God the
|
||
|
living Architect. When we have Masons like this the Craft will
|
||
|
again be operative, the flaming triangle will shine forth with
|
||
|
greater lustre, the dead builder will rise from his tomb, and the
|
||
|
Lost Word so long concealed from the profane will blaze forth again
|
||
|
with the power that makes all things new.
|
||
|
In the pages that follow have been set down a number of thoughts
|
||
|
for the study and consideration of temple builders, craftsmen and
|
||
|
artisans alike. They are the keys which, if only read, will leave
|
||
|
the student still in ignorance but, if lived, will change the
|
||
|
speculative Masonry of today into the operative Masonry of
|
||
|
tomorrow, when each builder, realizing his own place, will see
|
||
|
things which he never saw before, not because they were not there
|
||
|
but because he was blind. And there are none so blind as those who
|
||
|
will not see.
|
||
|
THOUGHTLESSNESS
|
||
|
The noblest tool of the Mason is his mind, but its value is
|
||
|
measured by the use made of it. Thoughtful in all things, the
|
||
|
aspiring candidate to divine wisdom attains reality in sincere
|
||
|
desire, in meditation, and in silence. Let the keynote of the
|
||
|
Craft, and of the Ritual, be written in blazing letters: THINK OF
|
||
|
ME. What is the meaning of this mystic maze of symbols, rites and
|
||
|
rituals? THINK! What does life mean, with the criss-crossings of
|
||
|
human relationship, the endless pageantry of qualities masqueradin
|
||
|
g in a carnival of fools? THINK! What is the plan behind it all,
|
||
|
and who the planner? Where dwells the Great Architect, and what is
|
||
|
the tracing board upon which he designs? THINK! What is the human
|
||
|
soul, and why the endless yearning to ends unknown, along pathways
|
||
|
where each must wander unaccompanied? Why mind, why soul, why
|
||
|
spirit, and in truth, why anything? THINK! Is there an answer? If
|
||
|
so, where will the truth be found? Think, Brothers o f the Craft,
|
||
|
think deeply; for if truth exists, you have it, and if truth be
|
||
|
within the reach of living creature, what other goal is worth the
|
||
|
struggle?
|
||
|
CHAPTERII
|
||
|
THE CANDIDATE
|
||
|
There comes a time in the growth of every living individual thing
|
||
|
when it realizes with dawning consciousness that it is a prisoner.
|
||
|
While apparently free to move and have its being, the struggling
|
||
|
life cognizes through ever greater vehicles its own limitations.
|
||
|
It is at this point that man cries out with greater insistence to
|
||
|
be liberated from the binding ties which, though invisible to
|
||
|
mortal eyes, still chain him with bonds far more terrible than
|
||
|
those of any physical prison.
|
||
|
Many have read the story of the prisoner of Chillon who paced back
|
||
|
and forth in the narrow confines of his prison cell, while the blue
|
||
|
waters rolled ceaselessly above his head and the only sound that
|
||
|
broke the stillness of his eternal night was the constant swishing
|
||
|
and lapping of the waves. We pity the prisoner in his physical
|
||
|
tomb and we are sad at heart, for we know how life loves liberty.
|
||
|
But there is one prisoner whose plight is far worse than those of
|
||
|
earth. He has not even the narrow confines of a prison cell around
|
||
|
Him; He cannot pace ceaselessly to and fro and wear ruts in the
|
||
|
cobblestones of His dungeon floor. That eternal Prisoner is Life
|
||
|
incarnate within the dark stone walls of matter, with not a single
|
||
|
ray to brighten the blackness of His fate. He fights eternally,
|
||
|
praying in the dark confines of gloomy walls for light and
|
||
|
opportunity. This is the eternal Prisoner who, through the
|
||
|
ceaseless ages of cosmic unfoldment, through forms unnumbered an d
|
||
|
species now unknown, strives eternally to libe rate Himself and
|
||
|
gain self conscious expression, the birthright of every created
|
||
|
thing. He awaits the day when, standing upon the rocks that now
|
||
|
form His shapeless tomb, He may raise His arms to heaven, bathed in
|
||
|
the sunlight of spiritual freedom, free to join the sparkling atoms
|
||
|
and dancing light-beings released from the bonds of prison wall and
|
||
|
tomb.
|
||
|
Around Life - that wondrous germ in the heart of every living
|
||
|
thing, that sacred Prisoner in His gloomy cell, that Master Builder
|
||
|
laid away in the grave of matter - has been built the wondrous
|
||
|
legend of the Holy Sepulchre. Under allegories unnumbered, the
|
||
|
mystic philosophers of the ages, have perpetuated this wonderful
|
||
|
story, and among the Craft Masons it forms the mystic ritual of
|
||
|
Hiram, the Master Builder, murdered in his temple by the very
|
||
|
builders who should have served him as he labored to perfect the
|
||
|
dwelling place of his God.
|
||
|
Matter is the tomb. It is the dead wall of substance not yet
|
||
|
awakened into the pulsating energies of Spirit. It exists in many
|
||
|
degrees and forms, not only in the chemical elements which form the
|
||
|
solids of our universe but in finer and more subtle substances.
|
||
|
These, though expressing through emotion and thought, are still
|
||
|
beings of the world of form. These substances form the great cross
|
||
|
of matter which opposes the growth of all things and by opposition
|
||
|
makes all growth possible. It is the great cross o f hydrogen,
|
||
|
nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon upon which even the life germ in
|
||
|
protoplasm is crucified and suspended in agony. These substances
|
||
|
are incapable of giving it adequate expression. The Spirit within
|
||
|
cries out for freedom: freedom to be, to express, to manifest its
|
||
|
true place in the Great Plan of cosmic unfoldment.
|
||
|
It is this great yearning within the heart of man which sends him
|
||
|
slowly onward toward the gate of the Temple; it is this inner urge
|
||
|
for greater understanding and greater light which brought into
|
||
|
being through the law of necessity the great cosmic Masonic Lodge
|
||
|
dedicated to those seeking union with the Powers of Light that
|
||
|
their prison walls might be removed. This shell cannot be
|
||
|
discarded: it must be raised into union with the Life; each dead,
|
||
|
crystallized atom in the human body tnust be set vibrating and
|
||
|
spinning to a higher rate of consciousness. Through purification,
|
||
|
through knowledge, and through service to his fellow man the
|
||
|
candidate sequentially unfolds these mystic properties, building
|
||
|
better and more perfect bodies through which his higher life
|
||
|
secures even greater manifestation. The expression of man through
|
||
|
constructive thought, emotion, and action liberates the higher
|
||
|
nature from bodies which in their crystallized states are incapa
|
||
|
ble of giving him his natural opportunities.
|
||
|
In Freemasonry this crystallized substance of matter is called the
|
||
|
grave and represents the Holy Sepulchre. This is the grave within
|
||
|
which the lost Builder lies and with Him are the plans of the
|
||
|
Temple and the Master's Word, and it is this builder, our Grand
|
||
|
Master, whom we must seek and raise from the dead. This noble Son
|
||
|
of Light cries out to us in every expression of matter. Every
|
||
|
stick and stone marks His resting place, and the sprig of acacia
|
||
|
promises that through the long winter of spiritual darkne ss when
|
||
|
the sun does not shine for man, this Light still awaits the day of
|
||
|
liberation when each one of us shall raise Him by the grip of the
|
||
|
Grand Master, the true grip of a Master Mason. We cannot hear this
|
||
|
Voice that calls eternally, but we feel its inner urge. A great
|
||
|
unknown something pulls at our heartstrings. As the ages roll by,
|
||
|
the deep desire to be greater, to live better, and to think God's
|
||
|
thoughts, builds within ourselves the qualifica tions of a
|
||
|
candidate who, when asked why he takes the path , would truly
|
||
|
answer if he knew mentally the things he feels: "I hear a voice
|
||
|
that cries out to me from flora and fauna, from the stones, from
|
||
|
the clouds, from the very heaven itself. Each fiery atom spinning
|
||
|
and twisting in Cosmos cries out to me with the voice of my Master.
|
||
|
I can hear Hiram Abiff, my Grand Master, crying out in his agony,
|
||
|
the agony of life hidden within the darkness of its prison walls,
|
||
|
seeking for the expression which I have denied it, lab oring, to
|
||
|
bring closer the day of its liberation , and I have learned to know
|
||
|
that I am responsible for those walls. My daily actions are the
|
||
|
things which as ruffians and traitors are murdering my God."
|
||
|
There are many legends of the Holy Sepulchre which for so many
|
||
|
centuries had been in the hands of the infidel and which the
|
||
|
Christian worlds sought to retake in the days of the Crusades. Few
|
||
|
Masons realize that this Holy Sepulchre, or tomb, is in reality
|
||
|
negation and crystallization - matter that has sealed within itself
|
||
|
the Spirit of Life which must remain in darkness until the growth
|
||
|
of each individual being gives it walls of glowing gold and changes
|
||
|
its stones into windows. As we develop better and bet ter vehicles
|
||
|
of expression, these walls slowly expand until at last Spirit rises
|
||
|
triumphant from its tomb and, blessing the very walls that confined
|
||
|
it, raises them to union with itself.
|
||
|
We may first consider the murderers of Hiram. These three
|
||
|
ruffians, who, when the Builder seeks to leave his temple, strike
|
||
|
him with the tools of his own Craft until finally they slay him and
|
||
|
bring the temple down in destruction upon their own heads,
|
||
|
symbolize the three expressions of our own lower natures which are
|
||
|
in truth the murderers of the good within ourselves. These three
|
||
|
may be called thought, desire, and action. When purified and
|
||
|
transmuted they are three glorious avenues through which may mani
|
||
|
fest the great life power of the three kings, the glowing builders
|
||
|
of the Cosmic Lodge manifesting in this world as spiritual thought,
|
||
|
constructive emotion, and useful daily labor in the various places
|
||
|
and positions where we find ourselves while carrying on the
|
||
|
Master's work. These three form the Flaming Triangle which
|
||
|
glorifies every living Mason, but when crystallized and perverted
|
||
|
they form a triangular prison through which the light cann ot shine
|
||
|
and the Life is forced to languish in the dim darkness of despair,
|
||
|
until man himself through his higher understanding liberates the
|
||
|
energies and powers which are indeed the builders and glorifiers of
|
||
|
his Father's House.
|
||
|
Now let us consider how these three fiery kings of the dawn became,
|
||
|
through perversion of their manifestation by man, the ruffians who
|
||
|
murdered Hiram - the energizing powers of cosmos which course
|
||
|
through the blood of every living being, seeking to beautify and
|
||
|
perfect the temple they would build according to the plan laid down
|
||
|
on the tracing board by the Master Architect of the universe.
|
||
|
First in the mind is one of the three kings, or rather we shall say
|
||
|
a channel through which he manifests; for King Solo mon is the
|
||
|
power of mind which, perverted, becomes a destroyer who tears down
|
||
|
with the very powers which nourish and build. The right
|
||
|
application of thought, when seeking the answer to the cosmic
|
||
|
problem of destiny, liberates man's spirit which soars above the
|
||
|
concrete through that wonderful power of mind, with its dreams and
|
||
|
its ideals.
|
||
|
When man's thoughts rise upon the wings of aspiration, when he
|
||
|
pushes back the darkness with the strength of reason and logic,
|
||
|
then indeed the builder is liberated from his dungeon and the light
|
||
|
pours in, bathing him with life and power. This light enables us
|
||
|
to seek more clearly the mystery of creation and to find with
|
||
|
greater certainty our place in the Great Plan, for as man unfolds
|
||
|
his bodies he gains talents with which he can explore the mysteries
|
||
|
of Nature and search for the hidden workings of the Div ine.
|
||
|
Through these powers the Builder is liberated and his consciousness
|
||
|
goes forth conquering and to conquer. These higher ideals, these
|
||
|
spiritual concepts, these altruistic, philanthropic, educative
|
||
|
applications of thought power glorify the Builder; for they give
|
||
|
the power of expression and those who can express themselves are
|
||
|
free. When man can mold his thoughts, his emotions, and his actions
|
||
|
into faithful expressions of his highest ideals then li berty is
|
||
|
his, for ignorance is the darkness of Chaos and knowledge is the
|
||
|
light of Cosmos.
|
||
|
In spite of the fact that many of us live apparently to gratify the
|
||
|
desires of the body and as servants of the lower nature, still
|
||
|
there is within each of us a power which may remain latent for a
|
||
|
great length of time. This power lives eternities perhaps, and yet
|
||
|
at some time during our growth there comes a great yearning for
|
||
|
freedom, when, having discovered that the pleasures of sense
|
||
|
gratification are eternally elusive and unsatisfying, we make an
|
||
|
examination of ourselves and begin to realize that there a re
|
||
|
greater reasons for our being. It is sometimes reason, sometimes
|
||
|
suffering, sometimes a great desire to be helpful, that brings out
|
||
|
the first latent powers which show that one long wandering in the
|
||
|
darkness is about to take the path that leads to Light. Having
|
||
|
lived life in all its experiences, he has learned to realize that
|
||
|
all the manifestations of being, all the various experiences
|
||
|
through which he passes, are steps leading in one direction; that,
|
||
|
consciously or unconsciously, all souls are being le d to the
|
||
|
portico of the temple where for the first time they see and realize
|
||
|
the glory of Divinity. It is then that they understand the age-old
|
||
|
allegory of the martyred Builder and feel his power within
|
||
|
themselves crying out from the prison of materiality. Nothing else
|
||
|
seems worth while; and, regardless of cost, suffering, or the
|
||
|
taunts of the world, the candidate slowly ascends the steps that
|
||
|
lead to the temple eternal. The reason that governs Cosmos he does
|
||
|
not know, the laws which mold his being he do es not realize, but
|
||
|
he does know that somewhere behind the veil of human ignorance
|
||
|
there is an eternal light toward which step by step he must labor.
|
||
|
With his eyes fixed on the heavens above and his hands clasped in
|
||
|
prayer he passes slowly as a candidate up the steps. In fear and
|
||
|
trembling, yet with a divine realization of good, he raps on the
|
||
|
door and awaits in silence the answer from within.
|
||
|
CHAPTER III
|
||
|
THE ENTERED APPRENTICE There are three grand steps in the
|
||
|
unfoldment of the human soul before it completes the dwelling place
|
||
|
of the spirit. These have been caged respectively youth, manhood,
|
||
|
and old age; or, as the Mason would say, the Entered Apprentice,
|
||
|
the Fellow Craft, and the Master Builder. All life passes through
|
||
|
these three grand stages of human consciousness. They can be
|
||
|
listed as the man on the outside looking in, the man going in, and
|
||
|
the man inside. The path of human life is governed as all things
|
||
|
are by the laws of analogy, and as at birth we start our
|
||
|
pilgrimmage through youth, manhood, and old age, so the spiritual
|
||
|
consciousness of man in his cosmic path of unfoldment passes from
|
||
|
unconsciousness to perfect consciousness in the Grand Lodge of the
|
||
|
universe. Before the initiation of the Entered Apprentice degree
|
||
|
can be properly understood and appreciated, certain requirements
|
||
|
must be considered, not merely those of the physical world but also
|
||
|
those of the spiritual world.
|
||
|
The Mason must realize that his true initiation is a spiritual and
|
||
|
not a physical ritual, and that his initiation into the living
|
||
|
temple of the spiritual hierarchy regulating Freemasonry may not
|
||
|
occur until years after he has taken the physical degree, or
|
||
|
spiritually he may be a Grand Master before he comes into the
|
||
|
world. There are probably few instances in the history of
|
||
|
Freemasonry where the spiritual ordination of the aspiring seeker
|
||
|
took place at the same time as the physical initiation, because the
|
||
|
t rue initiation depends upon the cultivation of certain soul
|
||
|
qualities - an individual and personal matter which is left
|
||
|
entirely to the volition of the mystic Mason and which he must
|
||
|
carry out in silence and alone.
|
||
|
The court of the tabernacle of the ancient Jews was divided into
|
||
|
three parts: the outer court, the holy place, and the most Holy of
|
||
|
Holies. These three divisions represent the three grand divisions
|
||
|
of human consciousness. The degree of Entered Apprentice is
|
||
|
acquired when the student signifies his intention to take the rough
|
||
|
ashlar which he cuts from the quarry and prepares for the truing of
|
||
|
the Fellow Craft.
|
||
|
In other words, the first degree is really one of preparation; it
|
||
|
is a material step dealing with material things, for all spiritual
|
||
|
life must be raised upon a material foundation.
|
||
|
Seven is the number of the Entered Apprentice as it relates to the
|
||
|
seven liberal arts and sciences, and these are the powers with
|
||
|
which the Entered Apprentice must labor before he is worthy to go
|
||
|
onward into the more elevated and advanced degrees. They are much
|
||
|
mistaken who believe that they can reach the spiritual planes of
|
||
|
Nature without first passing through and molding matter into the
|
||
|
expression of spiritual power; for the first stage in the growth of
|
||
|
a Master Mason is mastery of the concrete condition s of life and
|
||
|
the developments of sense centers which will later become channels
|
||
|
for the expression of spiritual truths.
|
||
|
All growth is a gradual procedure carried on in an orderly,
|
||
|
masterly way, as exemplified by the opening and closing of a lodge.
|
||
|
The universe is divided into planes and these planes are divided
|
||
|
from each other by the rates of vibration which pass through them.
|
||
|
As the spiritual consciousness progresses through the chain, the
|
||
|
lower lose connection with it when it has raised itself above their
|
||
|
level, until finally only the Grand Masters are capable of
|
||
|
remaining in session, and unknown even to the Master Mason it
|
||
|
finally passes back again to the spiritual hierarchy from which it
|
||
|
came.
|
||
|
Action is the keynote of the Entered Apprentice lodge. All growth
|
||
|
is the result of exercise and the intensifying of vibratory rates.
|
||
|
It is through exercise that the muscles of the human body are
|
||
|
strengthened; it is through the seven liberal arts and sciences
|
||
|
that the human mind receives certain impulses which, in turn,
|
||
|
stimulate internal centers of consciousness. These centers of
|
||
|
consciousness, through still greater development, will later give
|
||
|
fuller expression to these inner powers; but the Entered Appr
|
||
|
entice has for his first duty the awakening of these powers, and,
|
||
|
like the youth of whom he is a symbol, his ideals and labors must
|
||
|
be tied closely to concrete things. For him both points of the
|
||
|
compasses are under the square; for him the reasons which manifest
|
||
|
through the heart and mind - the two polarities of expression are
|
||
|
darkened and concealed beneath the square which measures the block
|
||
|
of bodies. He knows not the reason why; his work is t o follow the
|
||
|
directions of those whose knowledge is greater th an his own; but
|
||
|
as the result of the application of energies, through action and
|
||
|
reaction he slowly builds and evolves the powers of discrimination
|
||
|
and the strength of character which mark the Fellow Craft degree.
|
||
|
It is obvious that the rough ashlar symbolizes the body. It also
|
||
|
represents cosmic root substance which is taken out of the quarry
|
||
|
of the universe by the first expressions of intelligence and molded
|
||
|
by them into ever finer and more perfect lines until finally it
|
||
|
becomes the perfect stone for the Builder's temple.
|
||
|
How can emotion manifest save through form? How can mind manifest
|
||
|
until the intricately evolved brain cells of matter have raised
|
||
|
their organic quality to form the ground-work upon which other
|
||
|
things may be based? All students of human mature realize that
|
||
|
every expression of man depends upon organic quality; that in every
|
||
|
living thing this differs; and that the fineness of this matter is
|
||
|
the certain indication of growth - mental, physical or spiritual.
|
||
|
True to the doctrines of his Craft, the Entered Apprentice must
|
||
|
beautify his temple. He must build within himself by his actions,
|
||
|
by the power of his hand and the tools of his Craft, certain
|
||
|
qualities which make possible his initiation into the higher
|
||
|
degrees of the spiritual lodge.
|
||
|
We know that the cube block is symbolic of the tomb. It is also
|
||
|
well known that the Entered Apprentice is incapable of rolling away
|
||
|
the stone or of transmuting it into a greater or higher thing; but
|
||
|
it is his privilege to purify and glorify that stone and begin the
|
||
|
great work of preparing it for the temple of his King.
|
||
|
Few realize that since the universe is made up of individuals in
|
||
|
various stages of development, responsibility is consequently
|
||
|
individual, and everything which man wishes to gain he must himself
|
||
|
build and maintain. If he is to use his finer bodies for the
|
||
|
purpose for which they were intended, he must treat them well, that
|
||
|
they may be good and faithful servants in the great work he is
|
||
|
preparing for.
|
||
|
The quarries represent the limitless powers of natural resources.
|
||
|
They are symbolic of the practically endless field of human
|
||
|
opportunity; they symbolize the cosmic substances from which man
|
||
|
must gather the stones for his temple. At this stage in his
|
||
|
growth, the Entered Apprentice is privileged to gather the stones
|
||
|
which he wishes to true during his progress through the lodge, for
|
||
|
at this point he symbolizes the youth who is choosing his life
|
||
|
work. He represents the human ego who in the dawn of time gath
|
||
|
ered many blocks and cubes and broken stones from the Great Quarry.
|
||
|
These rough and broken stones that as yet will not fit into
|
||
|
anything are the partially evolved powers and senses with which he
|
||
|
labors. In the first state he must gather these materials, and
|
||
|
those who have not gathered them can never true them. During the
|
||
|
involuntary period of human consciousness, the Entered Apprentice
|
||
|
in the Great Lodge was man, who labored with these rough blocks,
|
||
|
seeking the tools and the power with which to true them . As he
|
||
|
evolves down through the ages, he gains the tools and cosmically
|
||
|
passes on to the degree of Fellow Craft where he trues his ashlar
|
||
|
in harmony with the plans upon the Master's tracing board. This
|
||
|
rough, uncut ashlar has three dimensions, representative of the
|
||
|
three ruffians who at this stage are destroyers of the fourth
|
||
|
dimensional life concealed within the ugly, ill-shaped stone.
|
||
|
The lost key of the Entered Apprentice is service. Why, he may not
|
||
|
ask; when, he does not know. His work is to do, to act, to express
|
||
|
himself in some way - constructively if possible, but destructively
|
||
|
rather than not at all. Without action, he loses his great work;
|
||
|
without tools, which symbolize the body, he cannot act in an
|
||
|
organized manner. Consequently, it is necessary to master the arts
|
||
|
and sciences which place in his hands intelligent tools for the
|
||
|
expression of energy. Beauty is the keynote to h is ideal. With
|
||
|
his concrete ideals he must beautify all with which he comes in
|
||
|
contact, so that the works of his hand may be acceptable in the
|
||
|
eyes of the Great Architect of the Universe.
|
||
|
His daily life, in home, business, and society, together with the
|
||
|
realization of the fundamental unity of each with all, form the
|
||
|
base upon which the aspiring candidate may raise a greater
|
||
|
superstructure. In truth he must live the life, the result of
|
||
|
which is the purification of his body, so that the more attenuated
|
||
|
forces of the higher degrees may express themselves through the
|
||
|
finer sensitivity of the receiving pole within himself. When he
|
||
|
reaches this stage in his growth, he is spiritually worthy to co
|
||
|
nsider advancement into a higher degree. This advancement is not
|
||
|
the result of election or ballot, but is an automatic process in
|
||
|
which, having sensitized his consciousness by his life, he thereby
|
||
|
attunes himself to the next succeeding plane of expression. All
|
||
|
initiation is the result of adjustments of the evolving life to the
|
||
|
physical, emotional, and mental planes of consciousness through
|
||
|
which it passes.
|
||
|
We may now consider the spiritual requirements of one who feels
|
||
|
that he would mystically correlate himself with that great
|
||
|
spiritual fraternity which, concealed behind the exoteric rite,
|
||
|
forms the living power of the Entered Apprentice lodge:
|
||
|
1. It is essential that the Entered Apprentice should have studied
|
||
|
sufficiently the subject of anatomy to have at least a general idea
|
||
|
of the physical body, for the entire degree is based upon the
|
||
|
mystery of form. The human body is the highest manifestation of
|
||
|
form which he is capable of analyzing. Consequently, he must
|
||
|
devote himself to the study of his own being and its mysteries and
|
||
|
complexities.
|
||
|
2. The Entered Apprentice must realize that his body is the living
|
||
|
temple of the living God and treat it accordingly; for when he
|
||
|
abuses or mistreats it he breaks the sacred obligations which he
|
||
|
must assume before he can ever hope to understand the true
|
||
|
mysteries of the Craft. The breaking of his pact with the higher
|
||
|
Life evolving within himself unfailingly invokes the retributive
|
||
|
agencies of Nature.
|
||
|
3. He must study the problem of the maintenance of bodies through
|
||
|
food, clothing, breathing, and other necessities, as all of these
|
||
|
are important steps in the Entered Apprentice lodge. Those who eat
|
||
|
immoderately, dress improperly, and use only about one-third of
|
||
|
their lung capacity can never have the physical efficiency
|
||
|
necessary for the fullest expression of the higher Life.
|
||
|
4. He must grow physically and in the expression of concrete
|
||
|
things. Human relationships must be idealized at this time, and he
|
||
|
must seek to unfold all unselfish qualities which are necessary for
|
||
|
the harmonious working of the Mason and his fellow men on the
|
||
|
physical plane of Nature.
|
||
|
5. He must seek to round off all inequalities. He can best do this
|
||
|
by balancing his mental and physical organisms through the
|
||
|
application and study of the seven liberal arts and sciences.
|
||
|
Until he is relatively master of these principles on the highest
|
||
|
plane within his own being, he cannot hope spiritually to attract
|
||
|
to himself, through the qualities of his own character, the
|
||
|
life-giving ray of the Fellow Craft. When he reaches this point,
|
||
|
however, he is spiritually ready to hope for membership in a more
|
||
|
advanced degree.
|
||
|
The Mason must realize that his innermost motives are the index of
|
||
|
his real self, and those who allow social position, financial or
|
||
|
business considerations or selfish and materialistic ideals, to
|
||
|
lead them into the Masonic Brotherhood have thereby automatically
|
||
|
separated themselves from the Craft. They can never do any harm to
|
||
|
Freemasonry by joining because they cannot get in. Ensconced within
|
||
|
the lodge, they may feel that they have deceived the Grand Master
|
||
|
of the Universe, but when the spiritual lodge me ets to carry on
|
||
|
the true work of the Craft, they are disqualified and absent.
|
||
|
Watch fobs, lapel badges, and other insignia do not make Masons;
|
||
|
neither does the ritual ordain them. Masons are evolved through
|
||
|
the self-conscious effort to live up to the highest ideals within
|
||
|
themselves; their lives are the sole insignia of their rank,
|
||
|
greater by far than any visible, tangible credential.
|
||
|
Bearingy this in mind, it is possible for the unselfish, aspiring
|
||
|
soul to become spiritually and liberally vouched for by the centers
|
||
|
of consciousness as an Entered Apprentice. It means he has taken
|
||
|
the first grand step on the path of personal liberation. He is now
|
||
|
symbolized as the child with the smiling face, for with the
|
||
|
simplicity of a child he places himself under the protection of his
|
||
|
great spiritual Father, willing and glad to obey each of His
|
||
|
commands. Having reached this point and having done th e best it
|
||
|
was possible for him to do, he is in position to hope that the
|
||
|
powers that be, moving in their mysterious manner, may find him
|
||
|
worthy to undertake the second great step in spiritual liberation.
|
||
|
CHAPTER IV THE FELLOW CRAFT
|
||
|
Life manifests not only through action on the physical plane, but
|
||
|
through human emotion and sentiment. This is the type of energy
|
||
|
taken up by the student when he starts his labors in the Fellow
|
||
|
Craft. From youth with its smiling face, he passes on to the
|
||
|
greater responsibilities of manhood.
|
||
|
On the second step of the temple stands a soldier dressed in
|
||
|
shining armor, but his sword is sheathed and a book is in his hand.
|
||
|
He is symbolic of strength, the energy of Mars, and the wonderful
|
||
|
step in spiritual unfoldment which we know as Fellow Craft.
|
||
|
Through each one of us course the fiery rays of human emotion, a
|
||
|
great seething cauldron of power behind each expression of human
|
||
|
energy. Like spirited horses chafing at the bit, like hounds eager
|
||
|
for the chase, the emotional powers cannot be held in che ck, but
|
||
|
break the walls of restraint and pour forth as fiery expressions of
|
||
|
dynamic energy. This great principle of emotion we know as the
|
||
|
second murderer of Hiram. Through the perversion of human emotions
|
||
|
there comes into the world untold sorrow, which through reaction,
|
||
|
manifests in the mental and physical bodies.
|
||
|
It is strange how divine powers may become perverted until each
|
||
|
expression and urge becomes a ruffian and a murderer. The divine
|
||
|
compassion of the gods manifests in this world of form very
|
||
|
differently than in the realms of light. Divine compassion is
|
||
|
emergized by the same influxes as mortal passions and the lusts of
|
||
|
earth. The spiritual light rays of Cosmos - the Fire Princes of
|
||
|
the Dawn - which seethe and surge through the unregenerate man, are
|
||
|
the impulses which he perverts to murder and hate. The cea seless
|
||
|
power of Chaos, the seething pinwheel spiralds of perpetual motion,
|
||
|
whose majestic cadences are the music of the spheres, are energized
|
||
|
by the same great power that man uses to destroy the highest and
|
||
|
best. The same mystic power that keeps the planets in their orbits
|
||
|
around the solar body, the same energy that keeps each electron
|
||
|
spinning and whirling, the same energy that is building the temple
|
||
|
of God, is now a merciless slave-driver which , unmastered and
|
||
|
uncurbed, strikes the Compassionate One and sends him reeling
|
||
|
backward into the darkness of his prison. Man does not listen to
|
||
|
that little voice which speaks to him in ever loving, ever
|
||
|
sorrowful tones. This voice speaks of the peace accompanying the
|
||
|
constructive application of energy which he must chain if he would
|
||
|
master the powers of creation. How long will it take King Hiram of
|
||
|
Tyre, the warrior on the second step, symbolic of the Fellow Craft
|
||
|
of the Cosmic Lodge, to teach mankind the lessons of sel f-mastery?
|
||
|
The teacher can do it only as he daily depicts the miseries which
|
||
|
are the resilt of uncurbed appetites. The strength of man was not
|
||
|
given to be used destructively but that he might build a temple
|
||
|
worthy to be the dwelling place of the Great Architect of the
|
||
|
universe. God is glorifying himself through the individualized
|
||
|
portions of himself, and is slowly teaching these individualized
|
||
|
portions to understand and glorify the whole.
|
||
|
The day has come when Fellow Craftsmen must know and apply their
|
||
|
knowledge. The lost key to their grade is the mastery of emotion,
|
||
|
which places the energy of the universe at their disposal. Man can
|
||
|
only expect to be entrusted with great power by proving his ability
|
||
|
to use it constructively and selflessly. When the Mason learns
|
||
|
that the key to the warrior on the block is the proper application
|
||
|
of the dynamo of living power, he has learned the mystery of his
|
||
|
Craft. The seething energies of Lucifer are in his hands and
|
||
|
before he may step onward and upward, he must prove his ability to
|
||
|
properly apply energy. He must follow in the footsteps of his
|
||
|
forefather, Tubal-Cain, who with the mighty strength of the war god
|
||
|
hammered his sword into a plowshare. Incessant vigilance over
|
||
|
thought, action, and desire is indispensable to those who wish to
|
||
|
make progress in the unfolding of their own being, and the Fellow
|
||
|
Craft's degree is the degree of transmutation. The hand that slays
|
||
|
must lift the fallen, while the lips given to cursing must be
|
||
|
taught to pray. The heart that hates must learn the mystery of
|
||
|
compassion, as the result of a deeper and more perfect
|
||
|
understanding of man's relation to his brother. The firm, kind
|
||
|
hand of spirit must curb the flaming powers of emotion with an iron
|
||
|
grip. In the realization and application of these principles lies
|
||
|
the key of the Fellow Craft.
|
||
|
In this degree, the two points of the compass (one higher than the
|
||
|
other), symbolize the heart and mind, and with the expression of
|
||
|
the higher emotions the heart point of the compass is liberated
|
||
|
from the square, which is an instrument used to measure the block
|
||
|
of matter and therefore symbolizes form.
|
||
|
A large percentage of the people of the world at the present time
|
||
|
are passing through, spiritually, the degree of the Fellow Craft,
|
||
|
with its five senses. The sense perceptions come under the control
|
||
|
of the emotional energies, therefore the development of the senses
|
||
|
is necessary to the constructive expression of the Fellow Craft
|
||
|
power. Man must realize that all the powers which his many years
|
||
|
of need have earned for him have come in order that through them he
|
||
|
may liberate more fully the prisoner within his own being. As the
|
||
|
Fellow Craft degree is the middle of the three, the spiritual duty
|
||
|
of each member is to reach the point of poise or balance, which is
|
||
|
always secured between extremes. The mastery of expression is also
|
||
|
to be found in this degree. The keywords of the Fellow Craft may
|
||
|
be briefly defined as compassion, poise, and transmutation.
|
||
|
In the Fellow Craft degree is concealed the dynamo of human life.
|
||
|
The Fellow Craft is the worker with elemental fire, which it is his
|
||
|
duty to transmute into spiritual light. The heart is the center of
|
||
|
his activity and it is while in this degree that the human side of
|
||
|
the nature with its constructive emotions should be brought out and
|
||
|
emphasized. But all of these expressions of the human heart must
|
||
|
become transmuted into the emotionless compassion of the gods, who
|
||
|
despite the suffering of the moment, gaze down upon mankind and see
|
||
|
that it is good.
|
||
|
When the candidate feels that he has reached a point where he is
|
||
|
able to manifest every energizing current and fire-flame in a
|
||
|
constructive, balanced manner and has spiritually lifted the heart
|
||
|
sentiments of the mystic out of the cube of matter, he may then
|
||
|
expect that the degree of Master Mason is not far off, and so may
|
||
|
look forward eagerly to the time of his spiritual ordination into
|
||
|
the higher degree. He should now study himself and realize that he
|
||
|
cannot receive promotion into the spiritual lodge unti l his heart
|
||
|
is attuned to a superior, spiritual influx from the causal planes
|
||
|
of consciousness.
|
||
|
The following requirements are necessary before the student can
|
||
|
spiritually say that he is a member of the ancient and accepted
|
||
|
rite of the Fellow Craft:
|
||
|
1. The mastery of emotional outbreaks of all kinds, poise under
|
||
|
trying conditions, kindness in the face of unkindness, and
|
||
|
simplicity with its accompanying power. These points show that the
|
||
|
seeker is worthy of being taught by a Fellow Craftsman.
|
||
|
2. The mastery of the animal energies, the curbing of passion and
|
||
|
desire, and the control of the lower nature mark the faithful
|
||
|
attempts on the part of the student to be worthy of the Fellow
|
||
|
Craft.
|
||
|
3. The understanding and mastery of the creative forces, the
|
||
|
consecration of them to the unfolding of the spiritual nature, and
|
||
|
a proper understanding of their physical application, are necessary
|
||
|
steps at this stage of the student's growth.
|
||
|
4. The transmutation of personal affection into impersonal
|
||
|
compassion shows that the Fellow Craftsman truly understands his
|
||
|
duties and is living in a manner worthy of his order.
|
||
|
Personalities cannot bind the true second degree member, for having
|
||
|
raised one point of the compasses he now realizes that all personal
|
||
|
manifestations are governed by impersonal principles.
|
||
|
5. At this point the candidate consecrates the five senses to the
|
||
|
study of human problems with the unfolding of sense centers as the
|
||
|
motive; for he realizes that the five senses are keys, the proper
|
||
|
application of which will give him material for spiritual
|
||
|
transmutation if he will apply to them the common divisor of
|
||
|
analogy.
|
||
|
The Entered Apprentice may be termed a materialistic degree. The
|
||
|
Fellow Craft is religious and mystical, while the Master Mason is
|
||
|
occult or philosophical. Each of these is a degree in the
|
||
|
unfoldment of a connected life and intelligence, revealing in ever
|
||
|
fuller expression the gradual liberation of the Master from the
|
||
|
trianglar cell of threefold negation which marks the early stage of
|
||
|
individualization.
|
||
|
CHAPTER V THE MASTER MASON
|
||
|
On the upper steps of spiritual unfoldment stands the Master Mason,
|
||
|
who spiritually represents the graduate from the school of esoteric
|
||
|
learning. In the ancient symbols he is represented as an old man
|
||
|
leaning upon a staff, his long white beard upon his chest, and his
|
||
|
deep, piercing eyes sheltered by the brows of a philosopher. He is
|
||
|
in truth old, not in years, but in wisdom and understanding, which
|
||
|
are the only true measurement of age. Through years and lives of
|
||
|
labor he has found the staff of life and tr uth upon which he
|
||
|
leans. He no longer depends upon the words of others but upon the
|
||
|
still voice that speaks from the heart of his own being. There is
|
||
|
no more glorious position that a man may hold than that of a Master
|
||
|
Builder, who has risen by labor through the degrees of human
|
||
|
consciousness. Time is the differentiation of eternity devised by
|
||
|
man to measure the passage of human events. On the spiritual
|
||
|
planes of Nature it is the space or distance between the s tages of
|
||
|
spiritual growth and hence is not m easurable by material means.
|
||
|
Many a child comes into this world a Grand Master of the Masonic
|
||
|
School, while many a revered and honored brother passes silently to
|
||
|
rest without having gained admittance to its gate. The Master
|
||
|
Mason is one whose life is full, pressed down and brimming over
|
||
|
with the experience he has gained in his slow pilgrimage up the
|
||
|
winding stairs.
|
||
|
The Master Mason embodies the power of the human mind, that
|
||
|
connecting link which binds heaven and earth together in an endless
|
||
|
chain. His spiritual light is greater because he has evolved a
|
||
|
higher vehicle for its expression. Above even constructive action
|
||
|
and emotion soars the power of thought which swiftly flies on wings
|
||
|
to the source of Light. The mind is the highest form of his human
|
||
|
expression and he passes into the great darkness of the inner room
|
||
|
illuminated only by the fruits of reason. The glor ious privileges
|
||
|
of a Master Mason are in keeping with his greater knowledge and
|
||
|
wisdom. From the student he has blossomed forth as the teacher;
|
||
|
from the kingdom of those who follow he has joined that little
|
||
|
group who must always lead the way. For him the Heavens have
|
||
|
opened and the Great Light has bathed him in its radiance. The
|
||
|
Prodigal Son, so long a wanderer in the regions of darkness, has
|
||
|
returned again to his Father's house. The voice speaks from the
|
||
|
Heavens, its power thrilling the Master until hi s own being seems
|
||
|
filled with its divinity, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom
|
||
|
I am well pleased." The ancients taught that the sun was not a
|
||
|
source of light, life, or power, but a medium through which life
|
||
|
and light were reflected into physical substance. The Master Mason
|
||
|
is in truth a sun, a great reflector of light, who radiates through
|
||
|
his organism, purified by ages of preparation, the glorious power
|
||
|
which is the light of the Lodge. He, in truth, has become the
|
||
|
spokesman of the Most High. He st ands between the glowing fire
|
||
|
light and the world. Through him passes Hydra, the great snake,
|
||
|
and from its month there pours to man the light of God. His symbol
|
||
|
is the rising sun, for in him the globe of day has indeed risen in
|
||
|
all its splendor from the darkness of the night, illuminating the
|
||
|
immortal East with the first promise of approaching day.
|
||
|
With a sigh the Master lays aside his tools. For him the temple is
|
||
|
nearing completion, the last stones are being placed, and he slakes
|
||
|
his lime with a vague regret as he sees dome and minaret rise
|
||
|
through the power of his handiwork. The true Master does not long
|
||
|
for rest, and as he sees the days of his labor close, a sadness
|
||
|
weighs upon his heart. Slowly the brothers of his Craft leave him,
|
||
|
each going his respective way; and, climbing step by step, the
|
||
|
Master stands alone on the pinnacle of the temple. One stone must
|
||
|
yet be placed, but this he cannot find. Somewhere it lies
|
||
|
concealed. In prayer he kneels, asking the powers that be to aid
|
||
|
him in his search. The light of the sun shines upon him and bathes
|
||
|
him in a splendor celestial. Suddenly a voice speaks from the
|
||
|
Heavens, saying, "The temple is finished and in my faithful Master
|
||
|
is found the missing stone."
|
||
|
Both points of the compasses are now lifted from under the square.
|
||
|
The divine is liberated from its cube; heart and mind alike are
|
||
|
liberated from the symbol of mortality, and as emotion and thought
|
||
|
they unite for the glorification of the greatest and the highest.
|
||
|
Then the Sun and Moon are united and the Hermetic Degree is
|
||
|
consummated.
|
||
|
The Master Mason is afforded opportunities far beyond the reach of
|
||
|
ordinary man, but he must not fail to realize that with every
|
||
|
opportunity comes a cosmic responsibility. It is worse by far to
|
||
|
know and not to do than never to have known at all. He realizes
|
||
|
that the choice of avoiding responsibility is no longer his and
|
||
|
that for him all problems must be met and solved. The only joy in
|
||
|
the heart of the Master is the joy of seeing the fruits of his
|
||
|
handiwork. It can be truly said of the Master that throug h
|
||
|
suffering he has learned to be glad, through weeping he has learned
|
||
|
to smile, and through dying he has learned to live. The
|
||
|
purification and probationship of his previous degrees have so
|
||
|
spiritualized his being that he is in truth a glorious example of
|
||
|
God's Plan for His children. The greatest sermon he can preach,
|
||
|
the greatest lesson he can teach, is that of standing forth a
|
||
|
living proof of the Eternal Plan. The Master Mason is not
|
||
|
ordained: h e is the natural product of cause and effect, and none
|
||
|
but those who live the cause can produce the effect. The Master
|
||
|
Mason, if he be truly a Master, is in communication with the unseen
|
||
|
powers that move the destinies of life. As the Eldest Brother of
|
||
|
the lodge, he is the spokesman for the spiritual hierarchies of his
|
||
|
Craft. He no longer follows the direction of others, but on his
|
||
|
own tracing board he lays out the plans which his brothers are to
|
||
|
follow. He realizes this, and so lives that every line and plan
|
||
|
which he gives out is inspired by the divine with in h imself. His
|
||
|
glorious opportunity to be a factor in the growth of others comes
|
||
|
before all else. At the seat of mercy he kneels, a faithful
|
||
|
servant of the Highest within himself and worthy to be given
|
||
|
control over the lives of others by having first controlled
|
||
|
himself.
|
||
|
Much is said concerning the loss of the Master's Word and how the
|
||
|
seekers go out to find it but bring back only substitutes. The
|
||
|
true Master knows that those who go out can never find the secret
|
||
|
trust. He alone can find it who goes within. The true Master
|
||
|
Builder has never lost the Word but has cherished it in the
|
||
|
spiritual locket of his own being. From those who have the eyes to
|
||
|
see, nothing is concealed; to those who have the right to know, all
|
||
|
things are open books. The true Word of the three Grand Masters
|
||
|
has never been concealed from those who have the right to know it
|
||
|
nor has it ever been revealed to those who have not prepared a
|
||
|
worthy shrine to contain it. The Master knows, for he is a Temple
|
||
|
Builder. Within the setting of his own bodies, the Philosopher's
|
||
|
Stone is placed; for in truth it is the heart of the Phoenix, that
|
||
|
strange bird which rises with renewed youth from the ashes of its
|
||
|
burned body. When the Master's heart is as pure and white as the
|
||
|
diamond that he wears, he will then become a living stone-the crown
|
||
|
jewel in the diadem of his Craft.
|
||
|
The Word is found when the Master himself is ordained by the living
|
||
|
hand of God, cleansed by living water, baptized by living fire, a
|
||
|
Priest-King after the Order of Melchizedek, who is above the law.
|
||
|
The geat work of the Master Mason can be called the art of balance.
|
||
|
To him is given the work of balancing the triangle that it may
|
||
|
blaze forth with the glory of the Divine Degree. The triple
|
||
|
energies of thought, desire, and action must be united in a
|
||
|
harmonious blending of expression. He holds in his hands the
|
||
|
triple keys; he wears the triple crown of the ancient Magus, for he
|
||
|
is in truth the King of heaven, earth, and hell. Salt, sulphur,
|
||
|
and mercury are the elements of his work and with the philosophi
|
||
|
cal mercury he seeks to blend all powers to the glorifying of one
|
||
|
end.
|
||
|
Behind the degree of Master Mason, there is another not known to
|
||
|
earth. Far above him stretch other steps concealed by the blue
|
||
|
veil which divides the seen from the unseen. The true Brother
|
||
|
knows this, therefore he works with an end in view far above the
|
||
|
concept of mortal mind. He seeks to be worthy to pass behind that
|
||
|
veil and join that band who, unhonored and unsung, carry the
|
||
|
responsibilities of human growth. His eyes are fixed forever on
|
||
|
the Seven Stars which shine down from somewhere above the uppe r
|
||
|
rung of the ladder. With hope, faith, and charity he climbs the
|
||
|
steps, and whispering the Master's Word to the Keeper of the Gates,
|
||
|
passes on behind the veil. It is then, and then only, that a true
|
||
|
Mason is born. Only behind this veil does the mystic student come
|
||
|
into his own. The things which we see around us are but
|
||
|
forms-promises of a thing unnamed, symbols of a truth unknown. It
|
||
|
is in the spiritual temple built without the voice of wo rkmen or
|
||
|
the sound of hammer that the true initiation is given, and there,
|
||
|
robed in the simple lambskin of a purified body, the student
|
||
|
becomes a Master Mason, chosen out of the world to be an active
|
||
|
worker in the name of the Great Architect. It is there alone,
|
||
|
unseen by mortal eyes, that the Greater Degrees are given and there
|
||
|
the soul radiating the light of Spirit becomes a living; star in
|
||
|
the blue canopy of the Masonic lodge.
|
||
|
TRANSMUTATION
|
||
|
Masonry is eternal truth, personified, idealized, and yet made
|
||
|
simple. Eternal truth alone can serve it. Virtue is its priest,
|
||
|
patience its warden, illumination its master. The world cannot know
|
||
|
this, however, save when Masons in their daily life prove that it
|
||
|
is so. Its truth is divine, and is not to be desecrated or defamed
|
||
|
by the thoughtlessness of its keepers. Its temple is a holy place,
|
||
|
to be entered in reverence. Material thoughts and material
|
||
|
dissensions must be left without its gate. They may not enter.
|
||
|
Only the pure of heart, regenerated and transmuted, may pass the
|
||
|
sanctity of its veil. The schemer has no place in its ranks, nor
|
||
|
the materialist in its shrine; for Masons walk on hallowed ground,
|
||
|
sanctified by the veneration of ages. Let the tongue be stilled,
|
||
|
let the heart be stilled, let the mind be stilled. In reverence
|
||
|
and in the silence, stillness shall speak: the voice of stillness
|
||
|
is the voice of the Creator. Show your light and yo ur power to
|
||
|
men, but before God what have you to offe r, save in humility? Your
|
||
|
robes, your tinsel, and your jewels mean naught to Him, until your
|
||
|
own body and soul, gleaming with the radiance of perfection, become
|
||
|
the living ornaments of your Lodge.
|
||
|
THE PRESENCE OF THE MASTER
|
||
|
The Mason believes in the Great Architect, the living keystone of
|
||
|
creation's plan, the Master of all Lodges, without whose spirit
|
||
|
there is no work. Let him never forget that the Master is near.
|
||
|
Day and night let him feet the presence of the Supreme or
|
||
|
Overshadowing One. The All-Seeing Eye is upon him. Day and night
|
||
|
this great Orb measures his depths, seeing into his innermost soul
|
||
|
of souls, judging his life, reading his thoughts, measuring his
|
||
|
aspirations, and rewarding his sincerity. To this All-Seein g One
|
||
|
he is accountable; to none other must he account. This Spirit
|
||
|
passes with him out of the Lodge and measures the Mason in the
|
||
|
world. This Spirit is with him when he buys and sells. It is with
|
||
|
him in his home. By the light of day and by the darkness of night
|
||
|
it judges him. It hears each thoughtless word. It is the silent
|
||
|
witness to every transaction of life, the silent Partner of every
|
||
|
man. By the jury of his acts, each man is judged. Let e very Mason
|
||
|
know that his obligations include not only those w ithin the narrow
|
||
|
Lodge, bordered by walls of stone and brick, but those in the Great
|
||
|
Lodge, walled only by the dome of heaven. The Valley of
|
||
|
Jehoshaphat waits for him who is false to any creature, as surely
|
||
|
as it waited for the breakers of the Cosmic oath.
|
||
|
CHAPTER VI
|
||
|
THE QUALIFICATIONS OF A TRUE MASON
|
||
|
Every true Mason has come into the realization that there is but
|
||
|
one Lodge - that is, the Universe - and but one Brotherhood,
|
||
|
composed of everything that moves or exists in any of the planes of
|
||
|
Nature. He realizes that the Temple of Solomon is really the
|
||
|
Temple of the Solar Man -Sol-Om-On - the King of the Universe
|
||
|
manifesting through his three primordial builders. He realizes
|
||
|
that his vow of brotherhood and fraternity is universal, and that
|
||
|
mineral, plant, animal, and man are all included in the true Mas
|
||
|
onic Craft. His duty as an elder brother to all the kingdoms of
|
||
|
Nature beneath him is well understood by the true Craftsman, who
|
||
|
would rather die than fail in this, his great obligation. He has
|
||
|
dedicated his life upon the altar of his God and is willing and
|
||
|
glad to serve the lesser through the powers he has gained from the
|
||
|
greater. The mystic Mason, in building the eyes that see behind the
|
||
|
apparent ritual, recognizes the oneness of life manif esting
|
||
|
through the diversity of form.
|
||
|
The true disciple of ancient Masonry has given up forever the
|
||
|
worship of personalities. With his greater insight, he realizes
|
||
|
that all forms and their position in material affairs are of no
|
||
|
importance to him compared to the life which is evolving within.
|
||
|
Those who allow appearances or worldly expressions to deter them
|
||
|
from their self-appointed tasks are failures in Masonry, for
|
||
|
Masonry is an abstract science of spiritual unfoldment. Material
|
||
|
prosperity is not the measure of soul growth. The true Mason r
|
||
|
ealizes that behind these diverse forms there is one connected Life
|
||
|
Principle, the spark of God in all living things. It is this Life
|
||
|
which he considers when measuring the worth of a brother. It is to
|
||
|
this Life that he appeals for a recognition of spiritual Unity. He
|
||
|
realizes that it is the discovery of this spark of Unity which
|
||
|
makes him a conscious member of the Cosmic Lodge. Most of all, he
|
||
|
must learn to understand that this divine spark shines out as
|
||
|
brightly from the body of a foe as it does from t he dearest
|
||
|
friend. The true Mason has learned to be divinely impersonal in
|
||
|
thought, action, and desire.
|
||
|
The true Mason is not creed-bound. He realizes with the divine
|
||
|
illumination of his lodge that as Mason his religion must be
|
||
|
universal: Christ, Buddha or Mohammed, the name means little, for
|
||
|
he recognizes only the light and not the bearer. He worships at
|
||
|
every shrine, bows before every altar, whether in temple, mosque or
|
||
|
cathedral, realizing with his truer understanding the oneness of
|
||
|
all spiritual truth. All true Masons know that they only are
|
||
|
heathen who, having great ideals, do not live up to them. Th ey
|
||
|
know that all religions are but one story told in divers ways for
|
||
|
peoples whose ideals differ but whose great purpose is in harmony
|
||
|
with Masonic ideals. North, east, south and west stretch the
|
||
|
diversities of human thought, and while the ideals of man
|
||
|
apparently differ, when all is said and the crystallization of form
|
||
|
with its false concepts is swept away, one basic truth remains: all
|
||
|
existing things are Temple Builders, laboring for a single end. No
|
||
|
true Mason can be narrow, for his Lodge is the divine expression of
|
||
|
all broadness. There is no place for little minds in a great work.
|
||
|
The true Mason must develop the powers of observation. He must
|
||
|
seek eternally in all the manifestations of Nature for the things
|
||
|
which he has lost because he failed to work for them. He must
|
||
|
become a student of human nature and see in those around him the
|
||
|
unfolding and varying expressions of one connected spiritual
|
||
|
Intelligence. The great spiritual ritual of his lodge is enacted
|
||
|
before him in every action of his fellow man. The entire Masonic
|
||
|
initiation is an open secret, for anyone can see it played ou t on
|
||
|
the city street corners as well as in the untracked wilderness.
|
||
|
The Mason has sworn that every day he will extract from life its
|
||
|
message for him and build it into the temple of his God. He seeks
|
||
|
to learn the things which will make him of greater service in the
|
||
|
Divine Plan, a better instrument in the hands of the Great
|
||
|
Architect, who is laboring eternally to unfold life through the
|
||
|
medium of living things. The Mason realizes, moreover, tha t his
|
||
|
vows, taken of his own free will and accord, give him th e divine
|
||
|
opportunity of being a living tool in the hands of a Master
|
||
|
Workman.
|
||
|
The true Master Mason enters his lodge with one thought uppermost
|
||
|
in his mind: "How can I, as an individual, be of greater use in the
|
||
|
Universal Plan? What can I do to be worthy to comprehend the
|
||
|
mysteries which are unfolded here? How can I build the eyes to see
|
||
|
the things which are concealed from those who lack spiritual
|
||
|
understanding?" The true Mason is supremely unselfish in every
|
||
|
expression and application of the powers that have been entrusted
|
||
|
to him. No true Brother seeks anything for himself, but uns
|
||
|
elfishly labors for the good of all. No person who assumes a
|
||
|
spiritual obligation for what he can get out of it is worthy of
|
||
|
applying for the position even of water-carrier. The true Light
|
||
|
can come only to those who, asking nothing, gladly give all to it.
|
||
|
The true brother of the Craft, while constantly striving to improve
|
||
|
himself, mentally, physically, and spiritually through the days of
|
||
|
his life, never makes his own desires the goal for his works. He
|
||
|
has a duty and that duty is to fit into the plans of another. He
|
||
|
must be ready at any hour of the day or night to drop his own
|
||
|
ideals at the call of the Builder. The work must be done and he
|
||
|
has dedicated his life to the service of those who know the bonds
|
||
|
of neither time nor space. He must be ready at any moment's notice
|
||
|
and his life should be turned into preparing himself for that call
|
||
|
which may come when he least expects it. The Master Mason knows
|
||
|
that those most useful to the Plan are those who have gained the
|
||
|
most from the practical experiences of life. It is not what goes
|
||
|
on within the tiled lodge which is the basis of his greatness, but
|
||
|
rather the way in which he meets the problems of daily life. The
|
||
|
true Masonic student is known by his brotherly a ctions and common
|
||
|
sense.
|
||
|
Every Mason knows that a broken vow brings with it a terrible
|
||
|
penalty. Let him also realize that failure to live mentally,
|
||
|
spiritually, and morally up to one's highest ideals constitutes the
|
||
|
greatest of all broken oaths. When a Mason swears that he will
|
||
|
devote his life to the building of his Father's house and then
|
||
|
defiles his living temple through the perversion of mental power,
|
||
|
emotional force, and active energy, he is breaking a vow which
|
||
|
imposes not hours but ages of misery. If he is worthy to be a M
|
||
|
ason, he must be great enough to restrain the lower side of his own
|
||
|
nature which is daily murdering his Grand Master. He must realize
|
||
|
that a misdirected life is a broken vow and that daily service,
|
||
|
purification, and the constructive application of energy is a
|
||
|
living invocation which builds within and draws to him the power of
|
||
|
the Creator. His life is the only prayer acceptable in the eyes of
|
||
|
the Most High. An impure life is a broken trust; a destructive
|
||
|
action is a living curse; a narrow mind is a strang le-cord around
|
||
|
the throat of God.
|
||
|
All true Masons know that their work is not secret, but they
|
||
|
realize that it must remain unknown to all who do not live the true
|
||
|
Masonic life. Yet if the so-called secrets of Freemasonry were
|
||
|
shouted from the housetops, the Fraternity would be absolutely
|
||
|
safe; for certain spiritual qualities are necessary before the real
|
||
|
Masonic secrets can be understood by the brethren themselves. Hence
|
||
|
it is that the alleged "exposures" of Freemasonry, printed by the
|
||
|
thousands and tens of thousands since 1730 down to the present
|
||
|
hour, cannot injure the Fraternity. They reveal merely the outward
|
||
|
forms and ceremonies of Freemasonry. Only those who have been
|
||
|
weighed in the balance and found to be true, upright, and square
|
||
|
have prepared themselves by their own growth to appreciate the
|
||
|
inner meanings of their Craft. To the rest of their brethren
|
||
|
within or without the lodge their sacred rituals must remain, as
|
||
|
Shakespeare might have said, "Words, words, words." Within the
|
||
|
Mason's own being is concealed the Power, which, blazi ng forth
|
||
|
from his purified being, constitutes the Builder's Word. His life
|
||
|
is the sole password which admits him to the true Masonic Lodge.
|
||
|
His spiritual urge is the sprig of acacia which, through the
|
||
|
darkness of ignorance, still proves that the spiritual fire is
|
||
|
alight. Within himself he must build those qualities which will
|
||
|
make possible his true understanding of the Craft. He can show the
|
||
|
world only forms which mean nothing; the life within is fo rever
|
||
|
concealed until the eye of Spirit reveals it.
|
||
|
The Master Mason realizes charity to be one of the greatest traits
|
||
|
which the Elder Brothers have unfolded, which means not only
|
||
|
properly regulated charity of the purse but charity in thought and
|
||
|
action. He realizes that all the workmen are not on the same step,
|
||
|
but wherever each may be, he is doing the best he can according to
|
||
|
his light. Each is laboring with the tools that he has, and he, as
|
||
|
a Master Mason, does not spend his time in criticizing but in
|
||
|
helping them to improve their tools. Instead of bla ming poor
|
||
|
tools, let us always blame ourselves for having them. The Master
|
||
|
Mason does not find fault; he does not criticize nor does he
|
||
|
complain, but with malice towards none and charity towards all he
|
||
|
seeks to be worthy of his Father's trust. In silence he labors,
|
||
|
with compassion he suffers, and if the builders strike him as he
|
||
|
seeks to work with them, his last word will be a prayer for them.
|
||
|
The greater the Mason, the more advanced in his Craft, the more
|
||
|
fatherly he grows, the walls of his Lodge broade ning out until all
|
||
|
living things are sheltered and guarded within the blue folds of
|
||
|
his cape. From laboring with the few he seeks to assist all,
|
||
|
realizing with his broader understanding the weaknesses of others
|
||
|
but the strength of right.
|
||
|
A Mason is not proud of his position. He is not puffed up by his
|
||
|
honor, but with a sinking heart is eternally ashamed of his own
|
||
|
place, realizing that it is far below the standard of his Craft.
|
||
|
The farther he goes, the more he realizes that he is standing on
|
||
|
slippery places and if he allows himself for one moment to lose his
|
||
|
simplicity and humility, a fall is inevitable. A true Mason never
|
||
|
feels himself worthy of his Craft. A student may stand on the top
|
||
|
of Fool's Mountain self-satisfied in his position , but the true
|
||
|
Brother is always noted for his simplicity.
|
||
|
A Mason cannot be ordained or elected by ballot. He is evolved
|
||
|
through ages of self-purification and spiritual transmutation.
|
||
|
There are thousands of Masons who are brethren in name only, for
|
||
|
their failure to exemplify the ideals of their Craft makes them
|
||
|
unresponsive to the teachings and purpose of Freemasonry. The
|
||
|
Masonic life forms the first key of the Temple and without this
|
||
|
key, none of the doors can be opened. When this fact is better
|
||
|
realized and lived, Freemasonry will awake, and speak the Word s o
|
||
|
long withheld. The speculative Craft will then become operative,
|
||
|
and the Ancient Wisdom so long concealed will rise from the ruins
|
||
|
of its temple as the greatest spiritual truth yet revealed to man.
|
||
|
The true Master Mason recognizes the value of seeking for truth
|
||
|
wherever he can find it. It makes no difference if it be in the
|
||
|
enemy's camp; if it be truth, he will go there gladly to secure it.
|
||
|
The Masonic Lodge is universal; therefore all true Masons will seek
|
||
|
through the extremities of creation for their Light. The true
|
||
|
brother of the Craft knows and applies one great paradox. He must
|
||
|
search for the high things in lowly places and find the lowly
|
||
|
things in high places. The Mason who feels holier than his fellow
|
||
|
man has raised a barrier around himself through which no light can
|
||
|
pass, for the one who in truth is the greatest is the servant of
|
||
|
all. Many brethren make a great mistake in building a wall around
|
||
|
their secrets, for they succeed only in shutting out their own
|
||
|
light. Their divine opportunity is at hand. The time has come when
|
||
|
the world needs the Ancient Wisdom as never before. Let the Mason
|
||
|
stand forth and by living the doctrines which he preaches show to
|
||
|
his brother man the glory of his work. He holds the keys to truth;
|
||
|
let him unlock the door, and with his life and not his words preach
|
||
|
the doctrine which he has so long professed.
|
||
|
The Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man were united in the
|
||
|
completion of the Eternal Temple, the Great Work, for which all
|
||
|
things came into being and through which all shall glorify their
|
||
|
Creator.
|
||
|
MASONS, AWAKE!
|
||
|
Your creed and your Craft demand the best that is in you. They
|
||
|
demand the sanctifying of your life, the regeneration of your body,
|
||
|
the purification of your soul, and the ordination of your spirit.
|
||
|
Yours is the glorious opportunity; yours is the divine
|
||
|
responsibility. Accept your task and follow in the footsteps of
|
||
|
the Master Masons of the past, who with the flaming spirit of the
|
||
|
Craft have illumined the world. You have a great privilege - the
|
||
|
privilege of illumined labor. You may know the ends to which you
|
||
|
work, while others must struggle in darkness. Your labors are not
|
||
|
to be confined to the tiled Lodge alone, for a Mason must radiate
|
||
|
the qualities of his Craft. Its light must shine in his home and
|
||
|
in his business, glorifying his association with his fellow men.
|
||
|
In the Lodge and out of the Lodge, the Mason must represent the
|
||
|
highest fruitage of sincere endeavor.
|
||
|
EPILOGUE THE PRIEST OF RA
|
||
|
What words are there in modern language to describe the great
|
||
|
temple of Ammon Ra? It now stands amidst the sands of Egypt a pile
|
||
|
of broken ruins, but in the heyday of its glory it rose a forest of
|
||
|
plumed pillars holding up roofs of solid sandstone, carved by hands
|
||
|
long laid to rest into friezes of lotus blossoms and papyrus and
|
||
|
colored lifelike by pigments the secrets of which were lost with
|
||
|
the civilization that discovered them.
|
||
|
A checkerboard floor of black and white blocks stretched out until
|
||
|
it was lost among the wilderness of pillars. From the massive
|
||
|
walls the impassive faces of gods unnamed looked down upon the
|
||
|
silent files of priests who kept alight the altar fires, whose
|
||
|
feeble glow alone alighted the massive chambeors throughout the
|
||
|
darkness of an Egyptian night. It was a weird, impressive scene,
|
||
|
and the flickering lights sent strange, ghostly forms scurrying
|
||
|
among the piles of granite which rose like mighty altars from the
|
||
|
darkness below to be lost in the shadows above.
|
||
|
Suddenly a figure emerged from the shadows, carrying in his hand a
|
||
|
small oil lamp which pierced the darkness like some distant star,
|
||
|
bringing into strange relief the figure of him who bore it. He
|
||
|
appeared to be old, for his long beard and braided hair were quite
|
||
|
gray, but his large black eyes shone with a fire seldom seen even
|
||
|
in youth. He was robed from head to foot in blue and gold, and
|
||
|
around his forehead was coiled a snake of precious metal, set with
|
||
|
jewelled eyes that gave out flashes of light. Neve r had the light
|
||
|
of Ra's chamber shone on a grander head or a form more powerful
|
||
|
than that of the high priest of the temple. He was the mouthpiece
|
||
|
of the gods and the sacred wisdom of ancient Egypt was impressed in
|
||
|
fiery letters upon his soul. As he crossed the great room - in one
|
||
|
hand the sceptre of the priestcraft, in the other the tiny lamp -
|
||
|
he was more like a spirit visitor from beyond the environs of death
|
||
|
than a physical being, for his jewelled san dals made no sound and
|
||
|
the sheen from his robes form ed a halo of light around his stately
|
||
|
form.
|
||
|
Down through the silent passageways, lined with their massive
|
||
|
pillars, passed the phantom figure - down steps lined with kneeling
|
||
|
sphinxes and through avenues of crouching lions the priest picked
|
||
|
his way until at last he reached a vaulted chamber whose marble
|
||
|
floor bore strange designs traced in some language long forgotten.
|
||
|
Each angle of the many-sided and dimly-lighted room was filled by a
|
||
|
seated figure carved in stone, so massive that its head and
|
||
|
shoulders were lost in shadows no eye could pierce.
|
||
|
In the center of this mystic chamber stood a great chest of some
|
||
|
black stone carved with serpents and strange winged dragons. The
|
||
|
lid was a solid slab, weighing hundreds of pounds, without handle
|
||
|
of any kind and the chest apparently had no means of being opened
|
||
|
without the aid of some herculean power.
|
||
|
The high priest leaned over and from the lamp he carried lighted
|
||
|
the fire upon an altar that stood near, sending the shadows of that
|
||
|
weird chamber scurrying into the most distant corners. As the
|
||
|
flame rose, it was reflected from the great stone faces above,
|
||
|
which seemed to stare at the black coffer in the center of the room
|
||
|
with their strange, sightless eyes.
|
||
|
Raising his serpent-wound staff and facing the chest of sombre
|
||
|
marble, the priest called out in a voice that echoed and re-echoed
|
||
|
from every nook and cranny of the ancient temple:
|
||
|
"Aradamas, come forth!"
|
||
|
Then a strange thing happened. The heavy slab that formed the
|
||
|
cover of the great coffer slowly raised as though lifted by unseen
|
||
|
hands and there emerged from its dark recesses a slim, white-clad
|
||
|
figure with his forearms crossed on his breast-the figure of a man
|
||
|
perhaps thirty years old, his long, black hair hanging down upon
|
||
|
his white-robed shoulders in strange contrast to the seamless
|
||
|
garment that he wore. His face, devoid of emotion, was as handsome
|
||
|
and serene as the great face of Ammon Ra himself that gazed down
|
||
|
upon the scene. Silently Aradamas stepped from the ancient tomb
|
||
|
and advanced slowly toward the high priest. When about ten paces
|
||
|
from the earthly representative of the gods, he paused, unfolded
|
||
|
his arms, and extended them across his chest in salutation. In one
|
||
|
hand he carried a cross with a ring as the upper arm and this he
|
||
|
proffered to the priest. Aradamas stood in silence as the high
|
||
|
priest, raising his sceptre to one of the great stone figures,
|
||
|
addressed an invocation to the Sun-God of the universe. This
|
||
|
finished, he then addressed the youthful figure as follows:
|
||
|
"Aradamas, you seek to know the mystery of creation, you ask that
|
||
|
the divine illumination of the Thrice-Greatest and the wisdom that
|
||
|
for ages has been the one gift the gods would shower upon mankind,
|
||
|
be entrusted to you. Little you understand of the thing you ask,
|
||
|
but those who know have said that he who proves worthy may receive
|
||
|
the truth. Therefore, stand you here today to prove your divine
|
||
|
birthright to the teaching that you ask."
|
||
|
The priest pronounced these words slowly and solemnly and then
|
||
|
pointed with his sceptre to a great dim archway surmounted by a
|
||
|
winged globe of gleaming gold.
|
||
|
"Before thee, up those steps and through those passageways, lies
|
||
|
the path that leads to the eye of judgment and the feet of Ammon
|
||
|
Ra. Go, and if thy heart be pure, as pure as the garment that thou
|
||
|
wearest, and if thy motive be unselfish, thy feet shall not stumble
|
||
|
and thy being shall be filled with light. But remember that Typhon
|
||
|
and his hosts of death lurk in every shadow and that death is the
|
||
|
result of failure."
|
||
|
Aradamas turned and again folded his arms over his breast in the
|
||
|
sign of the cross. As he walked slowly through the somber arch, the
|
||
|
shadows of the great Unknown closed over him who had dedicated his
|
||
|
life to the search for the Eternal. The priest watched him until
|
||
|
he was lost to sight among the massive pillars beyond the shent
|
||
|
span that divided the living from the dead. Then slowly falling on
|
||
|
his knees before the gigantic statue of Ra and raising his eyes to
|
||
|
the shadows that through the long night conceal ed the face of the
|
||
|
Sun-God, he prayed that the youth might pass from the darkness of
|
||
|
the temple pillars to the light he sought.
|
||
|
It seemed that for a second a glow played around the face of the
|
||
|
enormous statue and a strange hush of peace filled the ancient
|
||
|
temple. The high priest sensed this, for rising, he relighted his
|
||
|
lamp and walked slowly away. His beacon of light shone fainter and
|
||
|
fainter in the distance, and finally was lost to view among the
|
||
|
papyrus blooms of the temple pillars. All that remained were the
|
||
|
dying flames on the altar, which sent strange flickering glows over
|
||
|
the great stone coffer and the twelve judges of the Egyptian dead.
|
||
|
In the meantime, Aradamas, his hands still crossed on his breast,
|
||
|
walked slowly onward and upward until the last ray from the burning
|
||
|
altar fire was lost to view among the shadows far behind. Through
|
||
|
years of purification he had prepared himself for the great ordeal,
|
||
|
and with a purified body and a balanced mind, he wended his way in
|
||
|
and out amoung the pillars that loomed about him. As he walked
|
||
|
along, there seemed to radiate from his being a faint golden glow
|
||
|
which illuminated the pillars as he passed the m. He seemed a
|
||
|
ghostly form amid a grove of ancient trees.
|
||
|
Suddenly the pillars widened out to form another vaulted room,
|
||
|
dimly lit by a reddish haze. As Aradamas proceeded, there appeared
|
||
|
around him swirling wisps of this scarlet light. First they
|
||
|
appeared as swiftly moving clouds, but slowly they took form, and
|
||
|
strange misty figures in flowing draperies hovered in the air and
|
||
|
held out long swaying arms to stay his progress. Wraiths of ruddy
|
||
|
mist hovered about him and whispered soft words into his ears,
|
||
|
while weird music, like the voice of the storm and the cri es of
|
||
|
night birds, resounded through the lofty halls. Still Aradamas
|
||
|
walked on calm and masterful, his fine, spiritual face outlined by
|
||
|
his raven locks in strange contrast to the sinuous forms that
|
||
|
gathered around and tried to lure him from his purpose. Unmindful
|
||
|
of strange forms that beckoned from ghostly archways and the
|
||
|
pleading of soft voices, he passed steadily on his way with but one
|
||
|
thought in his mind:
|
||
|
"Fiat Lux!" (Let there be light.)
|
||
|
The ghastly music grew louder and louder, terminating at last in a
|
||
|
mighty roar. The very walls shook; the dancing forms swayed like
|
||
|
flickering candle shadows and, still pleading and beckoning,
|
||
|
vanished among the pillars of the temple.
|
||
|
As the temple walls tottered, Aradamas paused; then with slow
|
||
|
measured step he resumed his search for some ray of light, finding
|
||
|
always darkness deeper than before. Suddenly before him loomed
|
||
|
another doorway, flanked on either side by an obelisk of carved
|
||
|
marble, one black and the other white. Through the doorway glowed
|
||
|
a dim light, concealed by a gossamer veil of blue silk.
|
||
|
As Aradamas slowly climbed the flight of steps leading to the
|
||
|
doorway, there materialized upon the ground at his feet a swirl of
|
||
|
lurid mist. In the faint glow that it cast, it twisted like some
|
||
|
oily gas, filling the entire chamber with a loathsome miasma. Then
|
||
|
out of this cloud issued a gigantic form - half human, half
|
||
|
reptile. In its bloodshot eyes burned ruddy pods of demon fire,
|
||
|
while great claw-like hands reached out to enfold and crush the
|
||
|
slender figure that confronted it. Aradamas wavered for a s ingle
|
||
|
instant as the horrible apparition lunged forward, its size doubly
|
||
|
magnified in the iridescent fog. Then the white-robed neophyte
|
||
|
again slowly advanced, his arms still crossed on his breast. He
|
||
|
raised his fine face, illumined by a divine light, and courageously
|
||
|
faced the hideous specter. As he confronted the menacing form, for
|
||
|
an instant it loomed over him like a towering demon. Suddenly
|
||
|
Aradamas raised the cross he carried and held it u p before the
|
||
|
monster. As he did so, the Crux Ansata gleamed with a wondrous
|
||
|
golden light, which, striking the oily, scaly monster, seemed to
|
||
|
dissolve its every particle into golden sparks. As the last of the
|
||
|
demon guardians vanished before the rays of the cross, a bolt of
|
||
|
lightning flashed through the ancient hallways and, striking the
|
||
|
veil that hung between the obelisks, rent it down the center and
|
||
|
disclosed a vaulted chamber with a circular dome, dimly lighted by
|
||
|
invisible lamps.
|
||
|
Bearing his now flaming cross, Aradamas entered the room and
|
||
|
instinctively gazed upward to the lofty dome. There, floating in
|
||
|
space, far above his head, he saw a great closed eye surrounded by
|
||
|
fleecy clouds and rainbow colors. Long Aradamas gazed upon the
|
||
|
wonderful sight, for he knew that it was the Eye of Horus, the
|
||
|
All-Seeing Eye of the gods.
|
||
|
As he stood there, he prayed that the will of the gods might be
|
||
|
made known unto him and that in some way he might be found worthy
|
||
|
to open that closed eye in the temple of the living God.
|
||
|
As he stood there gazing upward, the eyelid flickered. As the
|
||
|
great orb slowly opened, the chamber was filled with a dazzling,
|
||
|
blinding light that seemed to consume the very stones with fire.
|
||
|
Aradamas staggered. It seemed as if every atom of his being was
|
||
|
scorched by the effulgence of that glow. He instinctively closed
|
||
|
his eyes and now he feared to open them, for in that terrific blaze
|
||
|
of splendor it seemed that only blindness would follow his action.
|
||
|
Little by little, a strange feeling of peace and ca lm descended
|
||
|
upon him and at length he dared to open his eyes to find that the
|
||
|
glare was gone, the entire chamber was bathed in a soft, wondrous
|
||
|
glow from the mighty Eye in the ceiling. The white robe he had
|
||
|
worn had also given place to one of living fire which blazed as
|
||
|
though with the reflection of thousands of lesser eyes from the
|
||
|
divine orb above. As his eyes became accustomed to the glow, he
|
||
|
saw that he was no longer alone. He was surrounded by twe lve
|
||
|
white-robed figures who, bowing before him, held up strange
|
||
|
insignia wrought from living gold.
|
||
|
As Aradamas looked, all the figures pointed, and as he followed the
|
||
|
direction of their hands, he saw a staircase of living light that
|
||
|
led far up into the dome and passed the Eye in the ceiling.
|
||
|
With one voice, the twelve said: "Yonder lies the way of
|
||
|
liberation."
|
||
|
Without a moment's hesitation, Aradamas mounted the staircase, and
|
||
|
with feet that seemed to barely touch the steps, climbed upward
|
||
|
into the dawn of a great unknown. At last, after climbing many
|
||
|
steps, he reached a doorway that opened as he neared it. The
|
||
|
breath of morning air fanned his cheek and a golden ray of sunshine
|
||
|
played among the waves of his dark hair. He stood on the top of a
|
||
|
mighty pyramid, before him a blazing altar. In the distance, far
|
||
|
over the horizon, the rolling sands of the Egyptian de sert
|
||
|
reflected the first rays of the morning sun which, like a globe of
|
||
|
golden fire, rose again out of the eternal East. As Aradamus stood
|
||
|
there, a voice that seemed to issue from the very heavens chanted a
|
||
|
strange song, and a hand, reaching out as it were from the globe of
|
||
|
day itself, placed a serpent wrought of gyld upon the brow of the
|
||
|
new initiate.
|
||
|
"Behold Khepera, the rising sun! For as he brings the mighty globe
|
||
|
of day out of the darkness of night, between his claws, so for thee
|
||
|
the Sun of Spirit has risen from the darkness of night and in the
|
||
|
name of the living God, we hail thee Priest of Ra."
|
||
|
SO MOTE IT BE
|
||
|
ADDENDA THE ROBE OF BLUE AND GOLD
|
||
|
Hidden in the depths of the unknown, three silent beings weave the
|
||
|
endless thread of human fate. They are called the Sisters, known
|
||
|
to mythology as the Norns or Fates who incessantly twist between
|
||
|
their fingers a tiny cord, which one day is to be woven into a
|
||
|
living garment - the coronation robe of the priest-king.
|
||
|
To the mystics and philosophers of the world this garment is known
|
||
|
under many names. To some it is the simple yellow robe of
|
||
|
Buddahood. By the ancient Jews it was symbolized as the robe of
|
||
|
the high priest, the Garment of Glory unto the Lord. To the
|
||
|
Masonic brethren, it is the robe of Blue and Gold - the Star of
|
||
|
Bethlehem - the Wedding Garment of the Spirit.
|
||
|
Three Fates weave the threads of this living garment, and man
|
||
|
himself is the creator of his Fates. The triple thread of thought,
|
||
|
action, and desire binds him when he enters the sacred place or
|
||
|
seeks admittance into the tiled lodge, but later this same cord is
|
||
|
woven into a splendid garment whose purified folds clothe the
|
||
|
sacred spark of his being.
|
||
|
We all like to be well dressed. Robes of velvet and ermine stand
|
||
|
for symbols of rank and glory; but too many ermine capes have
|
||
|
covered empty hearts, too many crowns have rested on the brows of
|
||
|
tyrants. These are symbols of earthly things and in the world of
|
||
|
matter are too often misplaced. The true coronation robe - the
|
||
|
garment molded after the pattern of heaven, the robe of glory of
|
||
|
the Master Mason - is not of the earth; for it tells of his
|
||
|
spiritual growth, his deeper understanding, and his consecrated
|
||
|
life. The garments of the high priest of the tabernacle were but
|
||
|
symbols of his own body, which, purified and transfigured,
|
||
|
glorified the life within. The notes of the tiny silver bells that
|
||
|
tinkled with never-ending music from the fringe of his vestments
|
||
|
told of a life harmonious, while the breastplate which rested amid
|
||
|
the folds of the ephod reflected the gleams of heavenly truth from
|
||
|
the facets of its gems.
|
||
|
There is another garment without a seam which we are told was often
|
||
|
worn by the ancient brethren in the days of the Essenes, when the
|
||
|
monastery of the lowly Nazarenes rose in silent grandeur from the
|
||
|
steep sides of Mt. Tabor, to be reflected in the inscrutable waters
|
||
|
of the Dead Sea. This one-piece garment is the spiral thread of
|
||
|
human life which, when purified by right motive and right living,
|
||
|
becomes a tiny thread of golden light, eternally weaving the
|
||
|
purified garment of regenerated bodies. Like the wh ite of the
|
||
|
lambskin apron, it stands for the simple, the pure, and the
|
||
|
harmless. These are the requirements of the Master Mason, who must
|
||
|
renounce forever this world's pomp and vanity and seek to weave
|
||
|
that simple one-piece robe of the soul which marks the Master,
|
||
|
consecrated and consummated.
|
||
|
With the eye of the mind we still can see the lowly Nazarene in his
|
||
|
spotless robe of white - a garment no king's ransom could buy.
|
||
|
This robe is woven out of the actions of our daily lives, each deed
|
||
|
weaving into the endless pattern a thread, black or white,
|
||
|
according to the motives which inspired our actions. As the Master
|
||
|
Mason labors in accordance with his vows, he slowly weaves this
|
||
|
spotless robe out of the transmuted energy of his efforts. It is
|
||
|
this white robe which must be worn under the vestments of state,
|
||
|
and whose spotless surface sanctifies him for the robes of glory,
|
||
|
which can be worn only over the stainless, seamless garment of his
|
||
|
purified life.
|
||
|
When this moment arrives and the candidate has completed his task -
|
||
|
when he comes purified and regenerated to the altar of wisdom, he
|
||
|
is truly baptized of the fire and its flame blazes up within
|
||
|
himself. From him pour forth streams of light, and a great aura of
|
||
|
multicolored fire bathes him with its radiance. The sacred flame
|
||
|
of the gods has found its resting place in him, and through him
|
||
|
renews its covenant with man. He is then truly a Freemason, a
|
||
|
child of light. This wonderful garment, of which all ea rthly
|
||
|
robes are but symbols, is built of the highest qualities of human
|
||
|
nature, the noblest of ideals, and the purest of aspirations. Its
|
||
|
coming is made possible only through the purification of body and
|
||
|
unselfish service to others in the name of the Creator.
|
||
|
When the Mason has built all these powers into himself, there
|
||
|
radiates from him a wonderful body of living fire, like that which
|
||
|
surrounded the Master Jesus, at the moment of His transfiguration.
|
||
|
This is the Robe of Glory, the garment of Blue and Gold which,
|
||
|
shining forth as a five-pointed star of light, heralds the birth of
|
||
|
the Christ within. Man is then indeed a son of God, pouring forth
|
||
|
from the depths of his own being the light rays which are the life
|
||
|
of man.
|
||
|
Striking hearts that have long been cold, this spiritual ray raises
|
||
|
them from the dead. It is the living light which illuminates those
|
||
|
still buried in the darkness of materiality. It is the power which
|
||
|
raises by the strong grip of the lion's paw. It is the Great Light
|
||
|
which, seeking forever the spark of itself within all living
|
||
|
things, reawakens dead ideals and smothered aspirations with the
|
||
|
power of the Master's Eternal Word. Then the Master Mason becomes
|
||
|
indeed the Sun in Leo; and, reaching downward i nto the tomb of
|
||
|
crystallization, raises the murdered Builder from the dead by the
|
||
|
grip of the Master Mason.
|
||
|
As the sun awakens the seedlings in the ground, so this Son of Man,
|
||
|
glowing with the light divine, radiates from his own purified being
|
||
|
the mystic shafts of redeeming light which awaken the seeds of hope
|
||
|
and truth and a nobler life. Discouragement and suffering too
|
||
|
often brings down the temple, burying under its debris the true
|
||
|
reason for being and the higher motives for living.
|
||
|
As the glorious robe of the sun - the symbol of all life - bathes
|
||
|
and warms creation with its glow, this same robe, enfolding all
|
||
|
things, warms them and preserves them with its light and life. Man
|
||
|
is a god in the making, and as in the mystic myths of Egypt, on the
|
||
|
potter's wheel he is being molded. When his light shines out to
|
||
|
lift and preserve all things, he receives the triple crown of
|
||
|
godhood, and joins that throng of Master Masons who, in their robes
|
||
|
of Blue and Gold, are seeking to dispel the darknes s of night with
|
||
|
the triple light of the Masonic Lodge.
|
||
|
Ceaselessly the Norns spin the thread of human fate. Age in and
|
||
|
age out, upon the looms of destiny are woven the living garments of
|
||
|
God. Some are rich in glorious colors and wondrous fabrics, while
|
||
|
others are broken and frayed before they leave the loom. All,
|
||
|
however, are woven by these three Sisters - thought, action, and
|
||
|
desire - with which the ignorant build walls of mud and bricks of
|
||
|
slime between themselves and truth; while the pure of heart weave
|
||
|
from these radiant threads garments of celestial bea uty.
|
||
|
Do what we will, we cannot stop those nimble fingers which twist
|
||
|
the threads, but we may change the quality of the thread they use.
|
||
|
We should give these three eternal weavers only the noble and the
|
||
|
true; then the work of their hands will be perfect. The thread
|
||
|
they twist may be red with the blood of others, or dark with the
|
||
|
uncertainties of life; but if we resolve to be true, we may restore
|
||
|
its purity and weave from it the seamless garment of a perfect
|
||
|
life. This is man's most acceptable gift upon the al tar of the
|
||
|
Most High, his supreme sacrifice to the Creator.
|
||
|
FRIENDSHIP
|
||
|
What nobler relationship than that of friend? What nobler
|
||
|
compliment can man bestow than friendship? The bonds and ties of
|
||
|
the life we know break easily, but through eternity one bond
|
||
|
remains - the bond of fellowship - the fellowship of atoms, of star
|
||
|
dust in its endless flight, of suns and worlds, of gods and men.
|
||
|
The clasped hands of comradeship unite in a bond eternal - the
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fellowship of spirit. Who is more desolate than the friendless
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one? Who is more honored than one whose virtues have given him a fr
|
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|
iend? To have a friend is good, but to be a friend is better. The
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noblest title ever given man, the highest title bestowed by the
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gods, was when the great Jove gazed down upon Prometheus and said,
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"Behold, a friend of man!" Who serves man, serves God. This is the
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|
symbol of the fellowship of your Craft, for the plan of God is
|
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|
upheld by the clasped hands of friends. The bonds of relationship
|
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|
must pass, but the friend remains. Serve God by being a friend, -
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|
a friend of the soul of man, serving his needs, li ghting his
|
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|
steps, smoothing his way. Let the world of its own accord say of
|
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the Mason, "Behold the friend of all." Let the world say of the
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|
Lodge, "This is indeed a fraternity of brothers, comrades in spirit
|
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|
and in truth."
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|
THE EMERALD TABLET OF HERMES (TABULA SMARAGDINA)
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|
The Emerald Tablet of Hermes, illustrated on the opposite page,
|
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|
introduces us to Hiram, the hero of the Masonic legend. The name
|
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|
Hiram is taken from the Chaldean Chiram. The first two words in
|
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|
large print mean the secret work. The second line in large
|
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|
letters--(CHIRAM TELAT MECHASOT - means Chiram, the Universal
|
||
|
Agent, one in Essence, but three in aspect. Translated, the body
|
||
|
of the Tablet reads as follows:
|
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|
It is true and no lie, certain, and to be depended upon, that the
|
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|
superior agrees with the inferior, and the inferior with the
|
||
|
superior, to effect that one truly wonderful work. As all things
|
||
|
owe their existence to the will of the Only One, so all things owe
|
||
|
their origin to One Only Thing, the most hidden, by the arrangement
|
||
|
of the Only God. The father of that One Only Thing is the Suit;
|
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|
its mother is the Moon; the wind carries it in its wings; but its
|
||
|
nurse is a Spirituous Earth. That One Only Thing (af ter God) is
|
||
|
the father of all things in the universe. Its power is perfect,
|
||
|
after it has been united to a spirituous earth. Separate that
|
||
|
spirituous earth from the dense or crude earth by means of a gentle
|
||
|
heat, with much attention. In great measure it ascends from the
|
||
|
earth up to heaven, and descends again, new born, on the earth, and
|
||
|
the superior and inferior are increased in power. * * * By this
|
||
|
thou wilt partake of the honors of the whole world an d darkness
|
||
|
will fly from thee. This is the strength o f all powers; with this
|
||
|
thou wilt be able to overcome all things and to transmute all that
|
||
|
is fine and all that is coarse. In this manner the world was
|
||
|
created, but the arrangements to follow this road are hidden. For
|
||
|
this reason I am called CHIRAM TELAT MECHASOT, one in Essence, but
|
||
|
three in aspect. In this Trinity is hidden the wisdom of the whole
|
||
|
world. It is ended now, what I have said concerning the effects of
|
||
|
the Sun.
|
||
|
FINISH OF THE TABULA SMARAGDINA
|
||
|
In a rare, unpublished old manuscript dealing with early Masonic
|
||
|
and Hermetic mysteries, we find the following information
|
||
|
concerning the mysterious Universal Agent referred to as "Chiram"
|
||
|
(Hiram) :
|
||
|
The sense of this Emerald Tablet can sufficiently convince us that
|
||
|
the author was well acquainted with the secret operations of Nature
|
||
|
and with the secret work of the philosophers (alchemists and
|
||
|
Hermetists). He likewise well knew and believed in the true God.
|
||
|
It has been believed for several ages that Cham, one of the sons of
|
||
|
Noah, is the author of this monument of antiquity. A very ancient
|
||
|
author, whose name is not known, who lived several centuries before
|
||
|
Christ, mentions this tablet, and says that he had seen it in
|
||
|
Egypt, at the court; that it was a precious stone, an emerald,
|
||
|
whereon these characters were represented in bas-relief, not
|
||
|
engraved.
|
||
|
He states that it was in his time esteemed over two thousand years
|
||
|
old, and that the matter of this emerald had once been in a fluidic
|
||
|
state like melted glass, and had been cast in a mold, and that to
|
||
|
this flux the artist had given the hardness of a natural and
|
||
|
genuine emerald, by (alchemical) art.
|
||
|
The Canaanites were called the Phoenicians by the Greeks, who have
|
||
|
told us that they had Hermes for one of their kings. There is a
|
||
|
definite relation between Chiram and Hermes.
|
||
|
Chiram is a word composed of three words, denoting the Universal
|
||
|
Spirit, the essence whereof the whole creation does consist, and
|
||
|
the object of Chaldean, Egyptian, and genuine natural philosophy,
|
||
|
according to its inner principles or properties. The three Hebrew
|
||
|
words Chamah, Rusch, and Majim, mean respectively Fire, Air, and
|
||
|
Water, while their initial consonants, Ch, R, M, give us Chiram,
|
||
|
that invisible essence which is the father of earth, fire, air and
|
||
|
water; because, although immaterial in its own invis ible nature as
|
||
|
the unmoved and electrical fire, when moved it becomes light and
|
||
|
visible; and when collected and agitated, becomes heat and visible
|
||
|
and tangible fire; and when associated with humidity it becomes
|
||
|
material. The word Chiram has been metamorphosed into Hermes and
|
||
|
also into Herman, and the translators of the Bible have made Chiram
|
||
|
by changing Chet into He; both of these Hebrew word signs being
|
||
|
very similar.
|
||
|
In the word Hermaphrodite, (a word invented by the old
|
||
|
philosophers), we find Hermes changed to Herm, signifying Chiram,
|
||
|
or the Universal Agent, and Aphrodite, the passive principle of
|
||
|
humidity, who is also called Venus, and is said to have been
|
||
|
produced and generated by the sea.
|
||
|
We also read that Hiram (Chiram), or the Universal Agent, assisted
|
||
|
King Solomon to build the temple. No doubt as Solomon possessed
|
||
|
wisdom, he understood what to do with the corporealized Universal
|
||
|
Agent. The Talmud of the Jews says that King Solomon built the
|
||
|
temple by the assistance of Shamir. Now this word signifies the
|
||
|
sun, which is perpetually collecting the omnipresent, surrounding,
|
||
|
electrical fire, or Spiritus Mundi, and sending it to us in the
|
||
|
planets, in a visible manner called light.
|
||
|
This electrical flame, corporealized and regenerated into the Stone
|
||
|
of the Philosophers, enabled King Solomon to produce the immense
|
||
|
quantities of gold and silver used to build and decorate his
|
||
|
temple.
|
||
|
These paragraphs from an ancient philosopher may assist the Masonic
|
||
|
student of today to realize the tremendous and undreamed-of shire
|
||
|
of knowledge that lies behind the allegory which he often hears but
|
||
|
seldom analyzes. Hiram, the Universal Agent, might be translated
|
||
|
Vita the power eternally building and unfolding the bodies of man.
|
||
|
The use and abuse of energy is the keynote to the Masonic legend;
|
||
|
in fact, it is the key to all things in Nature. Hiram, as the
|
||
|
triple energy, one in source but three in aspec t, can almost be
|
||
|
called ether, that unknown hypothetical element which carries the
|
||
|
impulses of the gods through the macrocosmic nervous system of the
|
||
|
Infinite; for like Hermes, or Mercury, who was the messenger of the
|
||
|
gods, ether carries impulses upon its wings. The solving of the
|
||
|
mystery of ether - or, if you prefer to call it vibrant space - is
|
||
|
the great problem of Masonry. This ether, as a hypothetical
|
||
|
medium, brings energy to the three bodies of thought, emotion, and
|
||
|
action, in this manner Chiram, the one in essence, becoming three
|
||
|
in aspect - mental, emotional, and vital. The work which follows is
|
||
|
an effort to bring to light other forgotten and neglected elements
|
||
|
of the Masonic rites, and to emphasize the spirit of Hiram as the
|
||
|
Universal Agent.
|
||
|
Freemasonry is essentially mysterious, ritualistic, and ceremonial,
|
||
|
representing abstract truth in concrete form. Earth (or substance)
|
||
|
smothering energy (or vitality) is the mystery behind the murder of
|
||
|
the Builder.
|
||
|
MOTIVE
|
||
|
What motive leads the Masonic candidate out of the world and up the
|
||
|
winding stairway to the light? He alone can truly know, for in his
|
||
|
heart is hidden the motive of his works. Is he seeking the light
|
||
|
of the East? Is he seeking wisdom eternal? Does he bring his life
|
||
|
and offer it upon the altar of the Most high? Of all things, motive
|
||
|
is most important. Though we fail again and again, it our motive
|
||
|
be true, we are victorious. Though time after time we succeed, if
|
||
|
our motive be unworthy, we have failed. Ent er the temple in
|
||
|
reverence, for it is in truth the dwelling place of a Great Spirit,
|
||
|
the Spirit of Masonry. Masonry is an ordainer of kings. Its hand
|
||
|
has shaped the destinies of worlds, and the perfect fruitage of its
|
||
|
molding is an honest man. What nobler thing can be accomplished
|
||
|
than the illumination of ignorance? What greater task is there than
|
||
|
the joyous labor of service? And what nobler man can there be than
|
||
|
that Mason who serves his Lights, and is himsel f a light unto his
|
||
|
fellow men?</conspiracyFile>
|