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Brother Marcus

Key Ingredients of Teamwork

by

Richard D. Marcus

Worshipful Master

George Washington 1776 Lodge #337

Teamwork is the underlying theme this year in our lodge.  Activities in our lodge or in our businesses succeed when all of the team members are engaged in the objectives to be completed.

To illustrate the connected nature of teamwork, imagine for the moment that our Lodge were to bake an excellent loaf of bread. What would we see as being the key ingredients in this process?

All of us are aware that the most important ingredient would be flour. Flour is composed of many grains of wheat, rye, or oats that are milled and blended together.  The variety of talents and life experiences of the Lodge members are needed to achieve our goal. No single grain of wheat is sufficient - we need the whole lodge to work together as we explore our teamwork skills.

The next most significant ingredient is milk. Milk is rich with proteins and glutamates. Glutamates are amino acids which are the building block of proteins. Bread is composed of molecules that must adhere or be glued together. What is the glue in our lives as Lodge members? That glue is brotherly love and harmony. Our common goals of brotherly love, relief, and truth give us adherence that glues us together as a team.

Yeast is the ingredient that provides both fermentation and favor. Yeast is alive with power and growth. It is a driving force that motives all the parts. A self-motivating team also needs yeast for the group to bubble up with ideas, with fortitude, and with action. We do more when we have a zest for meeting together, working on relief projects, and encouraging one another to be better men in Freemasonry.

The four chief flavors are sweet, sour, bitter and salty. Salt enlivens flavor and preserves food. It heals hurts. While salt is the smallest ingredient, it nevertheless is a key ingredient. Each person adds something to the whole and confers the ‘saltiness’ that is most needed.

Each of the key ingredients appears to involve you! We need all of you to come and to join in the activities that are designed to raise us in brotherly love, relief, and truth in this ensuing Masonic year.

January 2005

The Monument of the Broken Column:

An Investigation into Levels of Meaning

 

Freemasonry uses symbols and allegories to teach lessons about brotherly love, relief, and truth.  Our most familiar symbol, of course, is the square overlaid with the compasses. Speculative Masonry or symbolic Masonry, as it is sometimes called, transforms seemingly common craft tools into symbolic devices intended to teach higher lessons of morality.  The first degree teaches us to square our actions with virtue and that the compasses are to keep our behavior within due bounds.  To each tool, there is both a literal use for a craftsman and a higher meaning.

But if we stay particularly attentive to the historic lectures in Lodge, we are often treated to two or more higher meanings for the same symbol.  The frequency of finding multiple meanings for the same object is astonishing. For example, the letter G is literally a letter, but we learn that it denotes geometry, which is viewed as a synonym for Masonry.  At a higher level, the letter G also turns our attention to God, the Great Architect of the Universe. 

 

Levels of Meaning

Literary critics call the use of multiple levels of interpretation for the same symbol polysemy.  Originally, Aristotle pointed out in his book on Poetics that symbols and words have a simple or a double meaning. 

Four levels of meaning were introduced in medieval times.  Thomas Aquinas analyzed scriptures in four levels in his Summa Theologica (ST-I, Question 1, 10). The four levels had various names, but they were typically called the descriptive, allegorical, tropological, and anagogic meanings.  While these terms seem excessively technical, they merely help us look at symbols, art, or literature with an eye to finding richer or higher meaning.

At the descriptive level, which Aquinas called the historical or literal level, we find the meaning that most would see in the context of the term or symbol.  At the descriptive level, a square is a tool for finding right angles.

The allegorical level refers to an understanding of the symbol representing another concept or idea.  The square is seen as the square of virtue.

The tropological involves the moral or biblical interpretation of the image.  A Mason seeks to live on the square, and is associated with right living. 

The highest level is the anagogic, which  seeks a spiritual or mystical meaning.  In Greek, anagogic literally means to lead to more, which is the highest sense of meaning.  The square is the jewel given to the Master of the Lodge to designate his authority in Lodge matters.

This four-fold classification system was expanded to five levels by the Spaniard, Juan Perez de Moya.  In his "Philosophia secreta" (1585), he added a "physical" or "natural" level below the four medieval levels.  Most English speaking users learned of the five-fold polysemous levels in Northrop Fryes influential 1957 book, Anatomy of Criticism.  Nevertheless, we will revert to the four-fold medieval levels.

 

The Monument to the Master Builder

Masonic tradition holds that there was erected a marble monument to commemorate the death of the Master Builder.  The monument consisted of many symbols, which are explained in the historical lecture in the third degree.  But if we spend a little more effort in examining the collection of symbols, and how the relate to each other, we find multiple meanings even beyond those told us. 

This effort of concentration has its rewards.  On a visit to an art museum, we could walk briskly through the landscapes, impressionists, and modern paintings and still enjoy their beauty.  Alternatively, we could sit quietly examining a work of art to take in all that it has for us.  Today, let us also take in the polysemous meanings presented in the marble monument of the beautiful virgin weeping over a broken column.

 

Weeping Over a Broken Column

Death is sad.  It is sadder still when a person is struck dead in the prime of life.  At the descriptive level, the central figure is the beautiful girl in mourning.  We feel the sadness of the young girl weeping.  It is compelling to men who find tears hard to ignore.  At her feet lies a broken column, which is an image of premature death in the symbolic language of cemeteries.

We are informed of several allegorical meanings contained in the monument.  The broken column suggests the unfinished state of the temple of Solomon; it also alludes to the untimely death of the Master Builder of the temple. 

The tropological meaning of the broken column reminds us of the grief and mortality that comes to all of us. The monument is itself a commemorative grave marker.

If there is a still higher anagogic meaning, perhaps it is the overwhelming sorrow of the beautiful virgin who is weeping that touches our hearts.  As the third degree reminds us of our own mortality, the marble monument embodies this meaning for us. 

 

The Open Book

Before the weeping girl lies an open book.  At a descriptive level, it may simply be any book. 

The allegorical meaning of the book, we are told, is that the Master Builders virtues there lie in perpetual record. Books symbolize learning.  They remain the primary method to convey information or records over time.  Books continue to be used in Churches and Synagogues to record births, marriages, and deaths of their parishioners. That book is known as the Book of Life and Death. 

At the tropological level of interpretation, we can easily visualize an open book before us as an image of the Holy Scriptures lying open on an altar.  The book is set on part of the broken column as the altar itself.

At the anagogic level, the Book of Life is an image of a profound ultimate judgment with the Devine.  Whose name will or will not appear is not in our hands.

 

The Sprig of Acacia

The marble monument prominently draws our attention to the sprig of acacia in the girls right hand.  The bough appears to be a branch of any kind of plant.  At the most basic level, the branch is an element from our natural world. 

But we are reminded of the allegorical meaning of a cedar tree.  It is used to conceal the grave and also to mark the location of the grave if ever it were to become necessary. 

At the tropological level, there exists a higher meaning of the timely discovery of the hidden grave.  Luck often aids those who persevere in their weary search for their goals.

The anagogic meaning may refer to the clear symbolism in the choice of an evergreen acacia within the scene of a stone monument.  The evergreen reminds us of the immortality of the soul.

 

The Urn in her Left Hand

Whereas one hand holds a branch of acacia from the natural world, the other hand holds a distinctly man-made object. This is the descriptive level.  Yet in the context of a grave marker, an urn is likely used to stow ashes of the departed.  Indeed, allegorically this urn holds the ashes of the Master Builder.

The historical lectures give a higher, possibly tropological meaning that reminds us of the three times that the Master Builder was buried.  Our buried bodies ultimately turn to ash, whether cremated or not.  Whether the departed is safely deposited in a Grand Temple or buried on the brow of hill, we continue to remember and honor our loved ones.

At an anagogic level, we sense the tension between an evergreen in one hand as a symbol of life and the ashes of death held in an urn in the other.  The monument causes us to contemplate the mysteries of life and death.

 

Father Time

The most unsettling of the symbols in the marble monument is the figure behind the girl.  At the descriptive we see an old man playing with the hair of the girl.

Allegorically, the old man is unfolding and counting her ringlets, like the years of our lives or the rings found in a cross-section of a tree.  The old man symbolizes Father Time.  Perhaps he is Chronos, the Greek god of time, who stands behind the young girl with his sinister scythe in the crook of his arms and his imposing wings overarching the montage.  Lest we be uncertain that the figure symbolizes time, an hour glass frequently appears at the old mans feet.

The moral interpretation or topological meaning is less obvious, but we are told that time, persistence, and perseverance will accomplish all things.  Just as each Aesops Fable has a moral lesson, the marble monument teaches us to maintain hope that with time and perseverance, we shall reach our goals.

The anagogic meaning emphasizes mystery.  Father Time reminds us that we know not the number of our years. Nonetheless, a symbolic Deity stands behind us in all we endeavor to do.

 

The Whole Tableau

The arrangement of a lodge is focused toward the East.  The arrangement of the tableau of figures appears to mimic the compass points of a Lodge.  If we imagine the girl at an altar with a book open before her, she faces the rising sun. The branch of acacia in her right hand is closest to the South, which is the beauty and glory of the day.  The urn held in her left hand is in the North where there is no light.  Time stands behind her in the West, where the sun sets.  In myth and literature, traveling west is an expression suggesting the end of our days, as we fade into the sunset. 

Contemplating this monument, we are reminded of the tension between the limits of our Earthly time and our ultimate belief in the immortality of the soul.  The weeping is for the Earthly death we all surely will meet.  There is also the reassurance of the father-like figure counting every hair on our head. (Matthew 10:30)

 

Historical Issues

The marble monument that we have been examining could not have been constructed at the time of King Solomon.   As the Masonic Short Talk Bulletin on The Broken Column, (Vol. 34, Feb., 1956, No. 2) pointed out, there were no vellum or papyrus books at that time; there were only scrolls. (Read the Short Talk at: ncmason.org/book/COLUMN.HTM.)

No Jewish builder would have been cremated at that time. Furthermore, monuments that included a Greek god and the image of a human would not have been accepted at all.  The idea of a visual depiction of a foreign god at the time of Solomons temple is preposterous. 

The generally accepted view of this monument is that it was created in 1819 by Jeremy Cross.  The illustration was done by Amos Doolittle.  Brother Cross felt, as we do, that when great men die, they must have a suitable monument. 

The symbol of a broken column was widely used. In 1813, the grave of Commodore Lawrence who fell in battle was marked with a broken column in Trinity Church graveyard in New York City.  This famous grave was known to Jeremy Cross.  

The rest of the figures in the monument were designed to tell a story and to point out moral ideas. We find that the story is profound with polysemous meanings.  We need not apologize for the evidently non-historical elements in the story of this monument.   We learn only that Masonic tradition informs us that a marble monument marked the grave of the Master Builder.  

 

Conclusion

The language of symbolism is one of the oldest, deepest, and richest means of communication.  By seeking deeper meanings embedded in our symbols, we are helped along lifes path.  We grow in our understanding and appreciation.

Masonic symbolism teaches valuable lessons at the descriptive, allegorical, tropological, and ultimately the anagogic level if we but look for them. The monument of the broken column reminds us of the lessons learned when we were raised to be Master Masons. Attention to the richness of our symbols will encourage us to practice our Grand Tenants of brotherly love, relief, and truth. 

 

 

Richard D. Marcus, Junior Warden

George Washington 1776 Lodge, #337 F&AM,  Whitefish Bay, Wisconsin

April 2003 

  Brother Marcus (http://www.uwm.edu/~marcus/) is Associate Professor, Finance, School of Business Administration, University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee.  Among his many published works are several essays published  in Ornan Newsletter (http://www.4masonry.com/) and "Climbing the Liberal Arts and Sciences --- A Lifelong Journey" which appeared in Wisconsin Masonic Journal (http://www.wisc-freemasonry.com/masonicjournal.htm) of December 2002.    

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Clock Windings

We have some answers. Brother Russell A. Gale tells us that the Seth Thomas at the balcony railing was presented to St. James Lodge #41 by the family of his father-in-law, Brother Harold O. Marshall, upon his death November 11, 1961. Brother Marshall, a Past Master, kept a store in East Troy, as had his family for some hundred years.

And Brother Leon P. Haslam has informed us of the clock mounted in the apparent highly-polished butt of a log gracing the Keoffler Lounge. That piece was presented to Laflin Lodge #247 sometime in the middle 1990's by Brother John R. Koney, who had seen one similar to it and arranged to have one specially made for the Lodge.

Thanks to Brothers Gale and Haslam. Does any Brother have information about the Waterbury tall clock, the Seth Thomas mantle clock, or the Automatic Electric regulator?

Stagecoach to Stardom

Marion Michael Morrison was born May 26, 1907 in Winterset, Iowa. When he was six, his family moved to Glendale, California. He delivered newspapers before school, and after school and football practice he made deliveries for local stores. He was an A student, president of the Latin Society, and Allstate guard on a championship football team. In 1924 he was initiated into Glendale Chapter of DeMolay.

Duke, as his friends called him, had hoped to attend the U.S. Naval Academy and was named as an alternate selection to Annapolis, but the first choice took the appointment. Instead, he accepted a football scholarship at the University of Southern California. In the summer, he worked as propman on the set of a movie directed by John Ford.

Billed as Duke Morrison, he worked his way into screen roles playing in an assortment of B movies. In 1939, Ford got the actor, by then known as John Wayne, the role of Ringo Kid in the classic Western, "Stagecoach." He was on the road to stardom.

As World War II began, he tried to enlist but was rejected because of his age, a shoulder injury, and the five dependents he was supporting. Toward the end of the war, he was allowed to tour forward positions in the Pacific theater. It was a wartime film, "Sands of Iwo Jima," that made him a superstar. Years after the war, when Emperor Hirohito visited the United States, he sought out John Wayne to pay tribute to the man who represented our success in combat. When John Wayne died, June 11, 1979, a Tokyo newspaper ran the headline, "Mr. America passes on."

Our Brother had been made a Mason on November 7, 1970 at Marion McDaniel Lodge #56, Tucson.

James S. Truesdell

Masonic News Hawk

April 2005

The Bible in Masonry

Time is a river, and books are boats. Many volumes start down that stream, only to be wrecked and lost beyond recall in its sands. Only a few, a very few, endure the testings of time and live to bless the following ages. We pay homage to the greatest of all books — the one enduring Book that has traveled down to us from the far past, freighted with the richest treasure that ever any book has brought to humanity. What a sight it is to see men gathered about an open Bible — how typical of the spirit and genius of Masonry, its great and simple faith and its benign ministry to mankind.

No Mason needs to be told what a place of honor the Bible has in Masonry. One of the great Lights in the Order, it lies open upon the altar at the center of the lodge. Upon it every Mason takes solemn vows of love, of loyalty, of chastity, of charity, pledging himself to our tenets of Brotherly Love, Relief, and Truth. Think what it means for a young man to make such a covenant of consecration in the morning of life, taking the wise old Book as his guide, teacher and friend! Then as he moves forward from one degree to another, the imagery of the Bible becomes familiar and eloquent, and its mellow, haunting music sings its way into his heart.

Like everything else in Masonry, the Bible, so rich in symbolism, is itself a symbol — that is, a part taken for the whole. It is a sovereign symbol of the Book of Faith, the will of God as man has learned it in the midst of the years — that perpetual revelation of Himself that God is making mankind in every land and every age. Thus, by the very honor that Masonry pays to the Bible, it teaches us to revere every book of faith in which men find help for today and hope for the morrow, joining hands with the man of Islam as he takes his oath on the Koran, and with the Hindu as he makes covenant with God upon the book that he loves best.

For Masonry knows, what so many forget, that religions are many, but Religion is one — perhaps we may say one thing, but that one thing includes everything — the life of God in the soul of man, and the duty and hope of man that proceed from His essential character. Therefore, it invites to its altar men of all faiths, knowing that, if they use different names for "the Nameless One of a hundred names," they are yet praying to the one God and Father of all; knowing, also, that while they read different volumes, they are in fact reading the same vast Book of Faith of Man as revealed in the struggle and sorrow of the race in its quest of God.

There was a time when the Bible formed almost the only literature of England; and today, if it were taken away, that literature would be torn to tatters and shreds. Truly did Macaulay say that, if everything else in our language should perish, the Bible would alone suffice to show the whole range and power and beauty of our speech. From it Milton learned his majesty of song, and Ruskin his magic of prose. Carlyle had in his very blood, almost without knowing it, the rhapsody and passion of the prophets — their sense of the Infinite, of the littleness of man, of the sarcasm of Providence; as Burns, before him, had learned from the same fireside Book the indestructibleness of honor and the humane pity of God, which throbbed in his lyrics of love and liberty. Thus, from Shakespeare to Tennyson, the Bible sings in our poetry, chants in our music echoes in our eloquence, and in our tragedy flashes forever its truth of the terribleness of sin, the tenderness of God, and the inextinguishable hope of man.

Right Worshipful Brother and

Reverend Doctor Joseph Fort Newton,

1880-1950; Friendship Lodge # 7, Dixon, IL

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