The level was used by operative masons to lay their work surfaces perfectly horizontal thereby providing not only a solid foundation on which to build but a framework true to their designs.  The level worked by virtue of gravity and under principles established in a number of our seven liberal arts and sciences; the simplicity in its construction belies the complex underpinnings of its operation.  Such is the beauty of this simple tool... and of life.

Speculatively, it is a reminder that all men progress alike towards eternity - equally as vulnerable to the same passions, fears and temptations regardless of our socio-economic status, race or creed.  By it, we are taught to be charitable to those who are less fortunate and not to be envious of those who have amassed power and wealth beyond our own situation.  After all, death's hand knows nothing of our earthly possessions or positions.

I view the weight swinging rhythmically on the end of the string as a sensor perceptible only to our actions; its movements mysteriously synchronized, as if by magnetic force, to the lives we lead; the precision of its measurements, unrivaled.  The string I see as an allusion to our cable tow and a reminder that our actions should be governed by our bond to both brother Masons and mankind alike.  All of this, however, would be useless without some constant force to keep it in check; the weight would float around haphazardly, twisting and knotting the string by which it is held... perhaps even breaking away from it.  The tool would be rendered useless by virtue of its inaccuracy.

Gravity is a force to which none of us are exempt.  Its universality implies immense strength and is haunted by the specter of destruction; without a sound structure, it can cause roofs to collapse around us.  It can render short falls deadly.  Yet at the same time we depend on it for in its absence, earth would be flung from its orbit and the universe would descend into the depths of chaos.  It is, in essence, a great mythological force much like Inanna, the Sumerian Goddess of love and war, who's duty was as follows:

To pester, insult, deride, desecrate - and to venerate - is your domain, Inanna.
Downheartedness, calamity, heartache - and joy and good cheer - is your domain, Inanna.
Trembling, affright, terror - dazzling and glory - is your domain, Inanna.

On the other hand, Freemasonry, if given the chance, can also be that universal force which bind us all.  It gives us wisdom, strength and beauty; it constructs the pillars of strength and establishment in a world of weakness and disenfranchisement; it is our personal lighthouse while we are cast away on the seas of darkness.  While we as mortals must subject to gravity, we as Freemasons should strive to calibrate our levels by something more tangible, something pure.

Those who care not how much the weight moves nor how the string sways will surely live under the rules of gravity.  They may amount to nothing in their lives or they may rule the world - but they will always be limited in some fashion by the rules to which they have subscribed.

No... not me...

I'd rather let Freemasonry be my gravity.

What makes a man a Mason, O brother of mine?
It isn’t the due guard, nor is it the sign,
It isn’t the jewel which hangs on your breast
It isn’t the apron in which you are dressed

It isn’t the step, nor the token, nor the grip,
Nor lectures that fluently flow from the lip,
Nor yet the possession of that mystic word
On five points of fellowship duly conferred.

Though these are essential, desirable, fine,
They don’t make a Mason, O brother of mine.
That you to your sworn obligation are true
'Tis that, brother mine, makes a Mason of you.

Secure in your heart you must safeguard and trust,
With lodge and with brother be honest and just,
Assist the deserving who cry in their need,
Be chaste in your thought, in your word and your deed.

Support he who falters, with hope banish fear,
And whisper advice in an erring one’s ear.
Then will the Great Lights on your path brightly shine,
And you’ll be a Mason, O brother of mine.

Your use of life’s hours by the gauge you must try,
The gavel of vices with courage apply;
Your walk must be upright, as shown by the plumb,
On the level, to bourn whence no travelers come,

The Book of your faith be the rule and the guide,
The compass your passions shut safely inside;
The stone which the Architect placed in your care
Must pass the strict test of His unerring square.

And then you will meet
with approval divine,
And you’ll be a Mason,
O brother of mine.

With the first leg of my journey into the world of Masonry now complete and after some serious contemplation of my travels thus far, I feel compelled to write about my experiences.  Since there are so many aspects to cover (esoterical, emotional, evaluative), I have decided to break this article up into its constituent pieces so each can be given due consideration.  Today I will be focusing on the Allegorical, Symbolic and Metaphorical teachings that I have learned during the EA degree from initiation through proficiency.

To an intelligent and thoughtful man, the degree of Entered Apprentice serves a much more important function that that of providing a means to an end whereby a man can be labeled a Freemason; it serves as the tool (I've come to learn that Masons love tools) through which a candidate is introduced to the mysterious and beautiful world of Freemasonry.  It is a world steeped in traditions and full of allegories, symbols and metaphors through which a man can be transformed into a Mason.  I say "can" because it is only after a deep, philosophical discussion with one's inner conscious that the teachings of the degree will be revealed - that it's not being called a Freemason which is important - it's the act of being one... It seems to me that those not willing to think long and hard about its implications are doing themselves, and Freemasonry as a whole, a disservice.

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One of the benefits of writing this blog is that I can use it as a sounding board; it's quite therapeutic for some reason.  No one may ever read any of this but yet it will have still served a useful purpose in my life.  Then again, maybe someone, someday, will come across these posts and find some comfort in their familiarity. 

Turkey time is now upon us (and Black Friday is looming) but I fear that not unlike Christmas, many people don't honor the spirit of the day.  It would seem that some only look at it as a day off from work filled with lots of food, relatives and football instead of an opportunity to take stock of their lives and be thankful for what they have, no matter how bad the past year has been. 

As some of you may know from reading this blog, my closest relative, friend and Brother - my cousin Jeff - passed away earlier this year; the devastation to myself and my family caused in part by the circumstances of his death has only become magnified with the arrival of the Holiday season.  It just ain't the same anymore...  Even though a part of me would just like to use it as an excuse to forget about the holidays and lash out at the commercialization of what used to be a purely humanitarian season, I realize that's not really the right course of action to take.  So, in lieu of transforming myself into the proverbial crotchety old codger who's sole joy in life is chasing kids off his front lawn with a cane, I will instead treat it as an opportunity not only to do some quiet contemplation but to find the positives in life and give ample thanks for them.

Luckily, this year I'm spit roasting the turkey over a wood fire... it's primal, it's lengthy and, to borrow a phrase from my favorite TV cook, it's damn good eats.  But perhaps best of all is the time and attention it will take to cook; there are few things like sitting by a fire, guitar in hand, to make you feel human again.

Have a happy Thanksgiving Brothers, the best to all of you!

-Scott 

Somewhere, amongst the list of man's most ancient of questions (and, I would imagine the most oft asked), lies 4 little words.  These 4 words, comprised of only 12 letters, forms a sentence so short that it almost beguiles the immense magnitude of its meaning:

Why are we here?

For each person who has ever reflected upon this question with at least a modicum of seriousness, the answer is surely as varied as the individual doing the asking.   The answers may perhaps be similar in form, but they are undoubtedly unique in their nuances; one man's conclusion is sure to have found itself in the proverbial dustbin of another's thoughts.  It has recently become clear to me that we will never truly know the answer to this question - not in this life at least.

It's almost like a painting or a tapestry in a way.  Some of us are standing so close - so wrapped up in our lives - that we cant help but only see each individual color as it catches our eye, immediately forgetting the last no matter how vivid it may have been.  "Living for the now" has the unfortunate side affect of preventing us from living for the future, or even, living for the past. 

But for each of us that are standing so close, there is another who stands out in the periphery.  So far out, in fact, that they can see the whole picture only by its most basic of elements.  While they may be able to discern what the painting looks like, they can never figure out just what the painting is; the lack of detail makes it so that they might as well be blind. 

Planning every aspect of our lives in advance, by nature, ignores the little things that pop up during our respective travels.  Perhaps calling these life events  "little things" might seem like a misnomer for they can - and do - have a great affect on us.  However, one must be cognizant that, in the grand scheme of things, these events are but a moment in history contending for significance against billions of others...  indeed, such is the ruthless nature of time! 

More abstractly, though, while there are thousands of paintings in an art exhibit, each one remains beautiful in its own right because of its details; without them there would be nothing upon which to shine a spotlight, much less to feature, in the first place.  And while each individual detail remains relatively meaningless on its own, putting them together with a little foresight and a lot of passion produces something worth framing.  There is simply no denying that these details are the spice of life... they are what gives living a complexion all its own.

The trick in life is to figure out where to stand.

And while we're trying to get the best vantage point, perhaps pondering the question of "why", and in turn asking "why not?", will give us a measuring stick with which we can gauge our distance.

Why not love much and love often
Even though it may be unrequited?

Why not laugh
Not just with others, but at ourselves?

Why not help another person who deeply needs it
And say thank you when we're that person?

Why not take responsibility for our actions
instead of blaming someone else no matter what the repercussions?

Why not shoot for the stars and aim for our dreams
while never forgetting our roots and where we came from?

Why not take pride in the quality of our work
instead of the number of figures in our paycheck?

Why not speak out against the wrongs of the world
though we live in relative comfort?

Why not be a patriot
even if it means personally sacrificing much in the interest of liberty?

Why not care about our fellow man
and not just about ourselves?

In truth and knowledge,
-Scott