155 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
155 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
SHORT TALK BULLETIN - Vol.II January, 1924 No.1
|
|
|
|
INN OF YEAR'S END
|
|
|
|
by: Unknown
|
|
|
|
Our Ancient Brethren were Pilgrims as well as Builders; and so are we.
|
|
The idea of life as a journey runs all through the symbolism of
|
|
Freemasonry, and to forget that truth is to lose half its beauty.
|
|
Initiation itself is a journey from the west to the east in quest of that
|
|
which was lost. The reason why a man becomes a Master Mason is that he
|
|
may travel in foreign countries, work and receive the wages of a Master.
|
|
|
|
What is symbolism with us was the actual life of Masons in days of old.
|
|
An Apprentice presented his Masterpiece, and if it was approved, he was
|
|
made a Master and Fellow. He could then take his kit of tools and journey
|
|
wherever his work called him, a Freemason - free, that is, as
|
|
distinguished from a Guild Mason, who was not allowed to work beyond the
|
|
limits of his city. Thus he journeyed from Lodge to Lodge, from Land to
|
|
Land, alone, or in company with his fellows, stopping at Inns betimes to
|
|
rest and refresh himself. Sometimes, a Hope describes in his "Essay On
|
|
Architecture," a whole Lodge traveled together, a band of Pilgrim
|
|
Builders.
|
|
|
|
Like our Brethren in the olden times, we too are pilgrims - life a
|
|
journey, man a traveler - and each of the Seven Ages is neighbors to the
|
|
rest; and so the poets of all peoples have read the meaning of life, as
|
|
far back as we can go. It is a long road we journey together, but there
|
|
are inns along the way, kept by Father Time, in which we may take lodging
|
|
for the night to rest and reflect - like the Inn of Year's End, at which
|
|
we arrive this month, in which there is goodly company, and much talk of
|
|
the meaning of the journey, and the incidents of the road.
|
|
|
|
Yes, the winding road is a symbol of the life of man true to fact. Once
|
|
we are aware of ourselves as pilgrims on a journey, then the people and
|
|
the scenes about us reveal their meaning and charm. If we forget that
|
|
life is a Pilgrim's Progress, we have no clue at all to an understanding
|
|
of it. Strangely enough, when we settle down to be citizens of this
|
|
world, the world itself become a riddle and a puzzle. By the same token,
|
|
the greatest leaders of the race are the men in whom the sense of being
|
|
pilgrims and sojourners on the earth is the most vivid. It is the
|
|
strangers in the world, the manifest travelers to a Better Country, who
|
|
get the most out of life, because they do not try to build houses of
|
|
granite when they only have time to pitch a tent, or turn in at an inn.
|
|
In the friendly air if the Inn of the Year's End, where we make merry for
|
|
tonight, there is much congratulation upon so much of the journey safely
|
|
done, and much well-wishing for the that way lies ahead. Also, there is
|
|
no end of complaint at the aches and ills, the upsets and downfalls, of
|
|
the road. All kinds of faiths and philosophies mingle, and there is no
|
|
agreement as to the meaning or goal of the journey. Some think life is a
|
|
great adventure, others hold it to be a nuisance. Many agree with the
|
|
epitaph of the poet Gay in Westminster Abbey:
|
|
|
|
"Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once, and now I know
|
|
it."
|
|
But a Mason, if he has learned the secret of his Craft, knows that life is
|
|
not a jest, but a great gift, "a little holding lent to do a mighty
|
|
labor." He agrees with a greater and braver poet, who said:
|
|
"Away with funeral music - set The pipe to powerful lips -
|
|
The cup of life's for him that drinks, And not for him that sips."
|
|
|
|
At the end of an old year and the beginning of a new, we can see that it
|
|
simplifies life to know that we are pilgrims in a pilgrim world. When a
|
|
man starts on a journey he does not take everything with him, but only
|
|
such things as he really needs. It is largely a matter of discrimination
|
|
and transportation. To know what to take and what to leave is one of the
|
|
finest of arts. It asks for insight, judgment, and a sense of values.
|
|
One reason why the race moves so slowly is that it tries to take too much
|
|
with it, weighing itself down with useless rubbish which ought to be
|
|
thrown aside. Much worthless luggage is carted over the hills and valleys
|
|
of history, hindering the advance of humanity. It is so in our own lives.
|
|
Men stagger along the road with acres of land on their backs, and houses
|
|
and bags of money. Others carry old hates, old grudges, old envies and
|
|
disappointments, which wear down their strength for nothing. At the end
|
|
of the year it is wise to unpack our bundle and sort out the things we do
|
|
not need - throwing the useless litter out the window or into the fire.
|
|
How much does a man really need for his journey? If the wisdom of the
|
|
ages is to be believed, the things we actually need are few, but they are
|
|
very great. "There abideth Faith, Hope, and Love, these three; and the
|
|
greatest of these is Love." Brotherly Love, Relief, and Truth, to which
|
|
let us add courage, which is the root of every virtue and the only
|
|
security - what more do we need? In a world where the way is often dim,
|
|
the road rough and the weather stormy, we have time only to love and do
|
|
good. Hate is the worst folly. After all, what do we ask of life, here
|
|
or hereafter, but leave to love, to serve, to commune with our fellows,
|
|
with ourselves, with the wonderful world in which we live, and from the
|
|
lap of earth to look up into the face of God? Neither wealth nor fame can
|
|
add anything worth while.
|
|
|
|
The human procession is endlessly interesting, made up of all kinds of
|
|
folk - quaint, fantastic, heroic, ignoble, joyous, sorrowful, ridiculous
|
|
and pathetic - some marching, some straggling through the world. There
|
|
are Greathearts who patrol the road, and angels who walk with us in
|
|
disguise - angels we know them to be because they believe in us when we
|
|
do not believe in ourselves, and thus make us do our best. And there
|
|
skulkers who shirk every danger and wander to no purpose, like the tramp
|
|
in a western village who, when asked if he was a traveler, replied:
|
|
|
|
"Yep, headed south this trip; Memphis maybe, if I don't lay off sooner. I
|
|
suppose I'm what you call a bum partner; but I ain't as bad as some of
|
|
'em. I've been hitting the road for quite a spell, nigh on forty years;
|
|
but I hold a feller has a right to live the way he wants to as long as
|
|
lets other folks alone. Anyway, I've had a heap of fun. Oh yes, I might
|
|
have settled down and got married, and raised a lot of kids I couldn't a-
|
|
took care of, same as a lot of fellers. But I didn't. They say kids come
|
|
from heaven, so I jest thought I'd leave mine stay there. It keeps me a-
|
|
hustlin' to look after myself, and handin' out a bit now and then to some
|
|
poor devil down on his luck. Well, so long, partner."
|
|
|
|
There is the shirk, the loafer, idle and adrift, living without aim or
|
|
obligation - trying to slip through and get by. But there are spiritual
|
|
loafers and moral tramps almost as bad, though they do not flip trains or
|
|
ask for a "Hand- out" at the back door. Any man is a loafer who takes more
|
|
out of life than he puts into it, leaving the world poorer than he found
|
|
it. He only has lived who, coming to the All Men's Inn called death, has
|
|
made it easier for others to see the truth and do the right.
|
|
|
|
When we know we are journeymen Masons, seeking a lodge, we can better
|
|
interpret the ills that overtake us. One must put up with much on a
|
|
journey which would be intolerable at home Our misfortunes, our griefs
|
|
are but incidents of the road. Our duties, too, are near at hand. The
|
|
Good Samaritan had never met the man whom he befriended on the road to
|
|
Jerico. He did not know his name. He may have had difficulty in
|
|
understanding his language. None the less, he took him to the next inn,
|
|
and paid for his keep. Finding his duty by the roadside, he did it, and
|
|
went on his way. Such is the chivalry of the road, and if a man walks
|
|
faithfully he will come to the House of God.
|
|
|
|
Since we pass this way but once, we must do all the good we can, in all
|
|
ways we can, to all the people we can There come thoughts of those who
|
|
walked with us in other days, and have vanished. They were noble and
|
|
true. Their friendship was sweet, and the old road has been lonely since
|
|
they went away. Toward the end life is like a street of graves, as one by
|
|
one those who journey with us fall asleep. But if we walk "the Road of the
|
|
Loving Heart," and make friends with the Great Companion. we shall not
|
|
lose our way, nor be left alone when we come at last, as come we must,
|
|
like all Brothers and Fellows before us, to where the old road dips down
|
|
into the Valley of Shadows.
|
|
|
|
It is strange; the soul too is a pilgrim, and must pass on. Walking for a
|
|
brief time in this vesture of clay, it betakes itself on an unknown
|
|
journey. A door opens, and the pilgrim spirit, set free, makes the Great
|
|
Adventure where no path is. But he who made us Brothers and Pilgrims here
|
|
will lead us there, and the way He Knoweth. No blind and aimless way our
|
|
spirit goeth, but to Him who hath set eternity in our hearts. Such
|
|
thoughts visit us, such faiths and hopes cheer us, gathered in the Inn of
|
|
Year's End, thinking of the meaning of the way.
|
|
|
|
"I go mine, thou goest thine; Many ways we wend,
|
|
Many ways and many days, Ending in one end.
|
|
Many a wrong and its crowning song,
|
|
Many a road and many an Inn;
|
|
Far to roam but only one home For all the world to win."
|
|
|