177 lines
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177 lines
9.0 KiB
Plaintext
SHORT TALK BULLETIN - Vol.VI February, 1928 No.2
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DUE FORM
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by: Unknown
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"All ritual is fortifying. Ritual is a natural necessity for
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mankind. The more things are upset, the more they fly to it. I
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abhor slovenly ritual anywhere. By the way, would you mind assisting
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at the examinations, if there are many visiting Brothers tonight?
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"You'll find some of 'em very rusty but - it's the Spirit, not the
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Letter, that giveth life. The question of visiting Brethren is an
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important one. There are so many of them in London now, you see;
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and so few places where they can meet."
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So we read in the greatest of all Masonic stories, "In the Interests
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of the Brethren," by Rudyard Kipling. It is a vivid picture of how
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our gentle Craft helped its wounded members in the days of the Great
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War, dark, dreadful and confused. No Mason can read it aloud; a
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lump will climb into his throat and choke him.
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It tells of a Lodge of Instruction, formed by the Lodge of Faith and
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Works, No. 5837, for the benefit of wounded Brethren, under the guise
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of giving them a chance to rub up on the Ritual. The scene when the
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Lodge was called up at the sound of the Gavel; the rattle of
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crutches, the shuffle of feet - some with one leg, some with one hand
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- is a picture to break the heart, and mend it. The Signs were
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fearfully and wonderfully made!
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"D'you like it?" said the Doctor to a one-footed Brother, as they sat
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together, after the Lodge had been seated with difficulty.
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"Do I? It's Heaven to me, sittin' in Lodge again.
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It's all comin' back now, watching their mistakes. I haven't much
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religion, but all I had I learnt in Lodge," he said with flushed
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face.
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"Yes," he went on, "Veiled in all'gory and illustrated in symbols -
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the Fatherhood of God an' the Brotherhood of Man; an' what more in
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Hell do you want. Look at 'em!" he broke off, giggling.
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"See! See!" cried the one-footed Corporal. "I could ha' done it
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better myself - my one foot in France. Yes, I should think they
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ought to do it again!"
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Yet, in the midst of all the tragic confusion, the Master insisted
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that the Ritual be followed as nearly letter-perfect as possible; as
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had been the manner of Masonry from the first. In the Constitutions
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of 1738 we learn that Grand Lodge may be opened in Form, in Due Form
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and in Ample Form; all alike valid and with the same authority.
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When opened by any other Officer than the Grand Master, the Grand
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Lodge is opened only in "Form." If a Past Grand Master, or the
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Deputy Grand Master presides, it is opened in "Due Form." When the
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Grand Master himself is in the Chair, the grand Lodge is opened in
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"Ample Form." And the same is true, with but slight variations, on
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this side of the sea.
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Why does Masonry insist so strictly upon exactness in its Ritual?
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There is a profound reason, not to be forgotten or ignored. True, it
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is the Spirit, not the Letter, that giveth life; but the Letter does
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give a Body, without which the Spirit of Masonry would be a formless
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blur, losing much of its meaning, if not all of its beauty. Ceremony
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keeps things up; without form the spirit melts into thin air and is
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lost.
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What is true of Masonry is equally true of religion , of manners and
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of art. The Poet Tennyson speaks of those, "whose faith hath center
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everywhere, nor cares to fix itself in form." That is, they believe
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in everything in general and nothing in particular. Their faith is
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like the earth in the story of creation, as the Bible tells it,
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"without form and void;" a vague sentiment, as flimsy as a mist and
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as frail.
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Manners, it has been said, are minor morals. That is, they are forms
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of a social ritual in which the spirit of courtesy and amenity finds
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expression. So essential are they as a form of social fellowship,
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that, as Emerson said, if they were lost, some gentlemen would be
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obliged to re-invent such a code. The phrase, "It is not done," has
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more than mere convention behind it. It bespeaks a standard, a sense
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of propriety, a fineness of feeling, a respect for the rights and
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feelings of others.
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Some of our modern artists are trying to throw off the old classic
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forms of music, painting and poetry. The result is chaos, a formless
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riot of color and sound, in which a horse may be green and a song a
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mere mob of notes, without melody. Without lovely form the spirit of
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beauty fades and is lost. Ages of experience have wrought out noble
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forms of art and life, which we cannot defy or ignore without
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disaster.
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The same is true of Masonry. Gentle, wise, mellow with age; its
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gracious spirit has fashioned a form, or body, or an art; if we call
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it so, in which its peculiar genius finds expression. Its old and
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lovely ritual, if rightly used, evokes the Spirit of Masonry, as each
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of us can testify. The mere opening of a Lodge creates a Masonic
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atmosphere in which the truths of Masonry seem more real and true.
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It weaves a spell about us, making fellowship gracious. It is a
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mystery; we love it, without caring to analyze it.
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By the same token, if the rhythm of the ritual is bungled, or
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slurred, or dealt with hastily or without dignity; its beauty is
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marred and its spell broken. Just imagine the opening of Lodge, or
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any one of the Degrees, jazzed up, rushed through with, and how
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horrible it would be. The soul of Masonry would be sacrificed, and
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its spirit evaporated. For that reason we cannot take too much pains
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in giving the ritual such a rendering as befits its dignity, its
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solemnity and its haunting beauty.
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No wonder Masonry is jealous of its ceremonies and symbols. It
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hesitates to make the slightest change, even when errors have crept
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into the ritual, lest something precious is lost. Indeed, it is
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always seeking "that which is lost," not alone in its great Secret,
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but in all its symbols which enshrine a wisdom gray with age, often
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but dimly seen, and sorely needed in the hurry and medley of our
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giddy-paced age.
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Mere formalism is always a danger. Even a lofty ritual may become a
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rigmarole, a thing of rut and rote. Sublime truths may be repeated
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like a parrot, as the creed in a church may be recited without
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thought or feeling, by force of habit. Still, such a habit is worth
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keeping, and often the uttering of great words stirs the heart with a
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sense of the cargoes of wonder which they hold, for such as have ears
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to hear.
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No matter; our fear of formalism - its mockery and unreality - must
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not blind us to the necessity of noble, stately and lovely form in
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which to utter and embody the truths that make us men. For that
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reason every part of the ritual ought to have Due Form, nothing
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skimped or performed perfunctorily, in order that the wise, good and
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beautiful truth of Masonry may have full expression and give us its
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full blessing. Only so can we get from it what it has to give us for
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our good.
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Take, for example, the Opening of the Lodge, so often regarded as of
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no great importance in itself, save as a preliminary to what is to
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follow. Not so. Nothing in Masonry is more impressive, if we see it
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aright. As a flower "opens its Lodge," as one poet puts it, when it
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unfolds its petals and displays its center to the sun, which renews
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its life; so the opening of a Masonic Lodge is a symbol of the
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opening out of the human mind and heart to God. It is a drama of an
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inward and ineffable thing, not to be spoken of except in the poetry
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of symbol.
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One sees more plainly in English ritual, in which the three Degrees,
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or grades as they name them, has each its stage. First is the stage
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appropriate to the Apprentice, a call to lift the mind above the
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level of external things. The second is a further opening, an
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advance in the science revealing greater things than Apprentices may
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know. It is an opening "upon the square," which the first Degree is
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not.
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By the time we reach the Third Degree, a still deeper opening of the
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mind is implied, "upon the centre," for those of the Master rank,
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involving the use of finer powers of perception, to the very center
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and depths of being. How far and to what depth any of us is able to
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open the Lodge of his Mind, is the measure of what Masonry is to us.
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As an ancient manual of initiation tells us, urging us to an inward
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quest:
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"There lives a Master in the hearts of men who makes their deeds, by
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subtle-pulling strings, dance to what time He will. With all thy
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soul trust Him, and take Him for thy succor. So shalt thou gain, by
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grace of Him, the uttermost repose, the Eternal Peace."
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Such meaning, and far more than here hinted, lie hidden to most of us
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in the simple ceremony of opening the Lodge. How much Masonry would
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mean for us and do for us, if only it had its due form both of ritual
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and interpretation. It might not explain all riddles, but it would
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light many a dark path, and lead us thither where we seek to go.
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Religion, untainted, here dwells;
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Here the morals of Athens are taught;
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Great Hiram's tradition here tells How the world out of chaos was
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brought.
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SO MOTE IT BE
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