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Nothing in Freemasonry is more beautiful
in form or more eloquent in meaning than the Firs Degree.
Its simplicity and dignity, its blend of solemnity and
surprise, as well as its teauty of moral truth, mark
it as a little masterplece. Nowhere may one hope to
find a nobler appeal to the native nobilities of man,
What we get out of Freemasonry, depends upon our capacity,
and our response to its appeal; but it is hard to see
how any man can receive the First Degree and pass out
of the Lodge room quite the same man as when he entered
it.
Pleasant memories come back to us when
we think of the time when we took our first step in
Freemasonry. We had been led, perhaps, by the sly remarks
of friends to expect some kind of horseplay; but how
different it was in reality. We discovered by contrast,
a ritual of religious faith and moral law, an allegory
of life and a parable of those truths which lie at the
foundations of manhood. Surely no man can ever forget
that hour when, vaguely or clearly, the profound meaning
of Freemasonry began slowly to unfold before his mind.
The whole meaning of initiation, of
course, is an analogy of the birth, awakening and growth
of the soul; its discovery of the purpose of life and
the nature of the wold in which it is to be lived. The
Lodge is the world as it was thought to be in the olden
time, with its square surface and canopy of sky, its
dark North and its radiant East; its centre an Altar
of obligation and prayer. The initiation, by the same
token is our advent from the darkness of prenatal gloom
into the light of moral truth and spiritual faith, out
of lonely isolation into a net work of fellowships and
relationships, out of a merely physical into a human
and moral order. The cable tow, by which we may be detained
or removed should we be unworthy or unwilling to advance,
is like the cord which joins a child to its mother at
birth. Nor is it removed until, by the act of assuming
the obligations and fellowships of the moral life, a
new, unseen tie is spun and woven in the heart, uniting
us, henceforth, by an invisible and, to the service
of our race in its moral effort to build a world of
frathernal goodwill.
Such is the system or moral philosophy
set forth in symbols to which the initiate is introduced,
and in this light each emblem, each incident, should
be interpreted. No man may hope to see it all at once,
or once for all, and it is open to question whether
any man lives long enough to think it through - for,
like all simple things, it is deep and wonderful.
Like every other incident of initiation,
it is in the light of the larger meanings of Freemasonry
that we must interpret the Rite of Destitution. During
the charge in the N.E. corner, every candidate is asked
to give whatever possible in the name of charity. If
he is "duly and truly prepared" he finds himself
unable to grant the request. Then, in one swift and
searching moment, he relizes-- perhaps for the first
time in his life-- what it means for a man to be actually
destitute. For one impressive instant, in which many
emotions mingle, he is made to feel the bewilderment,
if not the humiliation, which besets one who is deprived
of the physical necessities of life upon which, far
more than we have been wont to admit, both the moral
and social order depend. Then, by a surprise as sudden
as before, and in a manner never to be forgotten, the
lesson of the Golden Rule is taught the duty of man
to his fellow in dire need. It is not left to the imagination,
since the initiate is actually put into the place of
the man who asks his aid, making his duty more real
and vivld.
A temple any place of worship, opens
its doors to all kinds of and conditions of folk, rich
and poor alike, the learned and the unlearned. But a
Lodge of Masons is different, event though alike in
purpose and function. It is made up of picked men, selected
from among many and united for unique ends. No man ought
to be all owed to enter the Order unless he is equal
to its demands, financially as well as mentally and
morally, able to pay its fees and dues, and to do his
part in its work of relief. Yet no set of men, however
intelligent and strong, are exempt from the vicissitudes
and tragedies of life.
Disasters of the most appalling kind
befall men everyday, leaving them broken and helpless.
How often have we seen a noble and able man suddenly
smitten down in mid life, stripped not only of his savings
but of his power to earn, as the result of some blow
no mortal wit could avert. There he lies, shunted out
of active life when most needed and most able and willing
to serve. Life may any day turn Ruffian and strike one
of us such a blow, disaster following fast and following
faster, until we are at its mercy. It is to such experiences
that the Rite of DESTITUTION has reference, pledging
us to aid as individuals and as Lodges; and we have
a right to be proud that our Craft does not fail in
the doing of good. It is rich in benevolence, and it
knows how to hide its labors under the cover of secrecy,
using its privacy to shield itself and those whom it
aids.
Yet we are very apt, especially in
large Lodges, or in the crowded solitude of great cities,
to lose the personal touch, and let our charity fall
to the level of a cold, distant almsgiving. When this
is so, charity becomes a mere perfunctor obligation,
and Lodges have been known to contribute Rs. 50/- for
Charity and spend hundreds of rupees for personal entertainment.
There is an old parable in which a poor man asked aid
of another as poor as himself. "Brother, I have
no money to give you but my hand was the reply. "Yes,
give me your hand; for that, also, is a gift more needed
than all others said the first; and the two forlorn
men clasper hands in a common need and pathos. There
was more real charity in that scene than in many a munificent
donation made from a sense duty or pride.
Indeed, we have so long linked charity
with the giving of money that the word has well nigh
lost its real meaning. There are hungets which gold
cannot satisfy, and blinding before eavements from which
it offers no shelter, There are times when a hand laid
upon the shoulder, "in a friendly sort of way,"
is worth more than all the money on earth. Many a young
man fails, or makes a bad mistake, for lack of brotherly
hand which might have held him up or guided him into
a wiser way.
THE RITE OF DESTITUTION : Yes, Indeed
but a man may have all the money he needs and yet be
desitute of faith, of hope, of courage; and it is our
duty to share our faith and courage with him. To fulfil
the obligation of this Rite we must give not simply
our money but ourselves.
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