Freemasonry has again come under attack from those who do
not like our Fraternity. This response by Bro. M.B.S. Higham, R.N., Grand
Secretary of the United Grand Lodge of England talks about our Fraternity in a
very straightforward and informative way.
Written by Bro. Higham for a British reader, it also has a clear message
for the American reader as well.
It’s sad to note that from the end of the Second World War
until two years ago—individual members of the Craft progressed from what might
have been a becoming reticence about their Masonic affairs to an almost
obsessive silence. This attitude allowed Freemasonry’s critics free rein. No
answer was taken as an admission that allegations were true, and Freemasonry’s
reputation suffered—to put it mildly. It is time the record was set straight,
and I am happy to say that in the last two years we have begun to do something
about it.
Now what is Freemasonry? It is for most of us a spare time
activity but above all it is FUN. After joining for various reasons, we stay
Freemasons because we enjoy it, and we really do, in spite of the heavy things I
shall have to say in a moment about morality and so on. It demands that we put
something into it, and as in everything else in life worth doing, we get
something back—not materially; mostly sheer enjoyment.
Some scholars claim that Freemasonry’s antecedents run
through the mediaeval guilds back to the builders of King Solomon’s Temple.
Certainly much of its basic mythology comes from the Old Testament, but it is
impossible to prove definite links to times of enormous antiquity. It is,
however reasonable to see in modern Freemasonry many links, which may be direct,
with the ancient craft of the free-stone mason.
These masons were skilled men who had learned their trade
(or craft) in a long apprenticeship and assembled in Lodges to build castles or
cathedrals and a variety of other buldings in stone. They guarded their trade
secrets with prudent care, partly for the good reason, which will be recognized
now, of protecting their jobs, and partly because they were proud of the
standards of workmanship they could achieve and wanted to maintain them. To
guard their trade secrets and the plans of their work they may well have had
their own passwords and other means of recognition, and I expect they were, to
unqualified strangers, a pretty exclusive bunch, intolerant of outsiders. They looked after their fellow craftsmen,
and were bound to give a qualified journeyman a day’s paid work or the means to
reach a neighbouring Lodge which might offer him more lasting employment—a
primitive form of charity. We might guess that as respectable craftsmen they
tried to ensure that the members of the Lodge were law-abiding citizens, and
they would generally have done what they could to avoid political trouble—as any
sensible person did in mediaeval times. Religious strife until the Reformation
would have been easy to avoid: one Church—no problem.
If modern Freemasonry’s roots are indeed among the
operatives, there was then a transitional stage in the 1600s when non-operative
men were admitted to operative lodges as honorary members or as patrons—and then
gradually took over the lodges, using the stonemason’s customs and tools as a
basis for teaching morality.
Lodges in nearly the modern form were working at the end of
the 17th century, for in 1717 four London Lodges, whose origin is
charmingly claimed as of ‘time immemorial’ and therefore must then have achieved
at least some antiquity, formed the original Grand Lodge of England. The Grand
Lodges of Ireland and Scotland followed in 1725 and 1735, and from these three
Grand Lodges have sprung all the other Freemasony which we accept as regular in
the world.
Having dealt with history, we now turn to Freemasonry as it
is. Modern Freemasonry has not
changed much from its original non-operative form. There are some differences,
which I shall mention, but the basic, essential qualifications for membership
are unchanged. To be admitted and to remain a Freemason, a man must believe in
the Supreme Being—a God (and to stifle Manichean questions the God must be a
good one). To begin with in Masonic ritual this God was treated (if that is not
too disrespectful a word) in Christian terms (although this did not prevent Jews
from being Freemasons from very early times). In the English Craft in a process
which started in the middle 1700s and ended in 1816, Christian references were
removed from the ritual to enable men of different faiths to take part without
compromising their own beliefs. This is practical tolerance, and one of
Freemasonry’s great strengths. It enables men of all faiths (who might
‘otherwise have remained at a perpetual distance’) to meet in ordinary
friendship. Without interfering in the way in which they practice their
religions, it shows how much they nave in common.
This requirement of belief in the Supreme Being, and the
fact that Masonic ritual contains frequent prayers, does not make Freemasonry a
religion. Freemasonry offers no sacraments. If a Christian wants spiritual
grace, he must go to church. Similarly, if he wants salvation he must seek it in
the practice of his religion. Freemasonry may teach or encourage him to do
better, but it does not deal in religion or in religion’s ultimate, salvation.
Religions have doctrines. Freemasons are forbidden to discuss religion in their
Lodges, and so no Masonic doctrinal system is possible. A belief is required,
but there is no attempt to prescribe how the belief is to be exercised.
There is no Masonic God—if a Freemason prays to the Great
Architect of the Universe (or to the Supreme Being by any of the other
respectful Masonic vocatives) he knows that his own belief will translate and
direct that prayer to the God he worships. Prayer alone does not make a
religion. If it did, some might say that Parliament was religious. (Others might
say, ‘better if it were’.) Prayer was commonplace when Freemasonry began, and
modern Freemasons are very faithful to the old ways.
Freemasonry teaches morality. By this, I mean it encourages
men to try to be better, to discipline themselves and to consider their
relations with others. In this, again, it is not a religion. Religions encourage
morality, too, but they refer it to God. Freemasonry, if you like, deals with
morality at ground level, religion takes it upwards.
Freemasonry teaches its moral lessons in a series of ritual
dramas—one-act plays, if you like—each with two scenes; first the story or
action and then the explanation. The ceremonies of Freemasonry are intensely
satisfying to take part in; always different because those involved will change
from one time to the next; demanding in that words and actions have to be
memor-ized and deeply impressive to the candidate, because he is the focus of
attention of a room full of men who work together to get a message across to him
and because the message itself is of compelling interest.
As part of its teaching of morality, Freemasonry invites
its members to consider their place in society. It encourages them to practice
plain, old-fashioned loyalty to their native country and to respect the law. It
is interesting in this context that in the late 1700s after the two Jacobite
rebellions and when the country was still racked by political disturbance,
Freemasonry was expressly excluded from legislation which proscribed seditious
societies. Perhaps we were better understood in those days.
A Freemason is very strongly discouraged from using his
membership to promote his own or anyone else’s business, professional or
personal interests. He knows that the principles of the Craft not only do not
conflict with his duty as a citizen or as an employer; or his relations with his
local government authority as Councillor or contractor; but should actually
improve his performance. Not many associations in the country invite their
members to consider their priorities in this way, as Freemasonry does.
“What happens to the Freemasons who cannot maintain high
moral standards?” you may ask. Freemasons are human, and are subject to
pressures and tensions and may sweat and sin like other people. We take the view
that remedies for crimes or civil wrongs or matrimonial differences (all of
which may involve morality) lie in court. After this, Lodges are a sort of
family in themselves, and like families can and sometimes do exclude those whose
moral transgressions make them no longer acceptable.
Higher Masonic authority can reprimand or suspend errant Freemasons.
Grand Lodge can expel from the Craft. Among all these administrative penalties
there may be mercy, not to condone reprehensible conduct, but admitting that
there may be another, mitigating side of the story.
Although it is not directly relevant to the main theme,
Freemasonry’s social side should be mentioned for completeness, and because it
is an important part of a Lodge’s activities.
Most lodge meetings are followed by a meal in varying degrees of formality; many
lodges are the basis for informal gathering of their members and families, and
as such, are another facet of society.
Super-tolerant, if you like, or prudent if you are more
cynical, but Freemasonry takes no part in politics. The discussion of politics
in lodges is forbidden (they have plenty to occupy them anyway with Masonic
ceremonies and the ordinary business of running a small association) and Grand
Lodge will not express any opinion on political matters.
You might wonder why I’ve said nothing about secrecy. My
unspoken theme is that there is very little secret about Freemasonry. Its
internal affairs, like those of many associations, are private—and there is
nothing wrong with privacy, however unfashionable it may be. There is, however,
a great deal that any individual Freemason could tell about the Craft.
Freemasonry is founded either directly or by imitation, on
craftsmanship, which is technology to a high standard and gives the modern
Freemason a basis of moral stability, which he can add to the spiritual support
he draws from his religion.
Freemasonry has a useful place in modern society. We know that we are likely to learn more about ourselves if we talk about Freemasonry so we welcome ordinary interest as a way of helping us explain ourselves better.