THE BUILDER NOVEMBER 1915

THE SPIRITUAL SIDE OF MASONRY

BY BRO. J. H. MORROW, CALIFORNIA

ONE of the most beautiful of natural phenomena is the dew. We rise
up early in the morning, throw open the casement, and there, spread
out before us on earth's green carpet, lie myriads upon myriads of
gems more brilliant than ever graced a queenly brow. It is as
though God before rolling up the canopy of night had laid the stars
for a moment upon the earth for man's nearer view.

As we gaze, entranced, the sun asserts his majesty, and along
invisible paths the wealth of magic beauty vanishes in thin air.
But each crystal drop has left refreshment in its wake. The tender
blade of grass, the new-born leaf of the shrub, the unfolding petal
of the blossom has each in turn gathered fresh life and renewed
vigor.

And so, in a way, is spirituality. Heaven sent, it comes to earth
to quicken men's souls into new life. It is all that the dew is to
nature, but it is far more. It more closely resembles the gentle
rain in the depth and permanence of its effect.

A dove brought a seed from the skies, and it said to the man, "The
seed I bring is precious beyond all price. Its name is the
Knowledge-of-God. I would fain plant it where it shall find
constant nourishment, so that it may germinate and grow and bear
fruit for the healing of the nations."

Reverently the man uncovered his head, and humbly bared his breast.
"O gentle dove," he said, "vouchsafe that this seed may find
lodgment in my poor heart." And the dove replied, "So let it be,"
and straightway it planted the seed in the human breast so freely
offered.

And there flew to earth another dove, and the seed it brought- was
called Faith, and this seed, too, found lodgment in the man's
heart. And still another dove brought the seed of Hope, and another
the seed of Charity, and a fourth the seed of Brotherly Love, and
again a fifth the seed of Immortality; for these seeds, too, the
man's breast gave welcoming place.

The name of the man was Freemason. The life he lived, and the deeds
he wrought, be they small or great, are known to all, but the
vision of the doves and the planting of the seeds were for his eye
alone.

Brethren, if I have indulged in metaphor and resorted to parable,
it has been but to stimulate the imagination that you may the more
easily rise with me to the plane upon which Masonry in its
teachings and their fulfillment rests. The first seed implanted in
the heart of the Freemason was the Knowledge-of-God. To put our
trust in Him is the initial and the directing step in the journey
of life. With Him as our guide, our mentor, we can press forward
without doubt or fear. As Christian, Jew, Brahmin, or Mohammedan,
each may call Him by a different name, but to one and all He is the
Great Architect, the Supreme Ruler of the Universe, and as we learn
to accept His guidance, He becomes better still the Heavenly
Father, drawing us to Him with bonds of love. "We feel His
presence, e'en unseen," and we walk by faith, and are sustained by
hope in its whispered promise of eternal life. And so it is with
the other seeds. In the exercise, for example, of charity through
the promptings of brotherly love--charity which softens and
modifies our judgments, makes us conscious of our own shortcomings,
and renders us responsive to the appeals of those in distress--we
become partakers of the Divine nature and thus children of God.

"To worship rightly is to love each other;
Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer."
"Each loving life a psalm of gratitude."

King Solomon's Temple is long crumbled into dust, but we as Masons
are taught that we may rear another in its stead. The plan lies
upon the trestle board of the Supreme Master. Happy is the man who
builds according to that plan. For the temple site is the human
heart, and the temple is known as character. Masonry is
character-building, and whether we be Entered Apprentice,
Fellowcraft, or Master Mason, our duties are clearly defined, and
our accountability made clear.

Now, character is what we are, and must not be confounded with
reputation, which is what men think of us. If character be sound,
be good, be true, then reputation can safely be left to take care
of itself. Men covet reputation, but reputation is only secure when
it rests upon a moral foundation. Hypocrisy, deceit, false
pretensions may achieve their ends for a while, but sooner or later
the sham will be found out, and the structure so faultily builded
prove but a house of cards. Therefore, the question which concerns
me as a Mason is not what do men think of me, but what do I think
of myself ?

In the light of Masonry I am able to judge myself. The plan lies
before me. My obligations are emblazoned upon the walls of my
remembrance. How have I hewn and laid the foundations of my
character? How have I builded the superstructure? Dare I apply to
the walls the plumb and square and level of righteousness ? The
heart of the man who received the seeds from the doves knew as the
days and the years went by how well it had cherished the divine
gifts. So, as I lay my head at night upon my pillow, and turn upon
myself the eyes of introspection, I can search my soul.

Shall I be discouraged by the faults I find? Nay, not so. If I only
realize that I have tried to build a temple acceptable to the
Supreme Architect, I have not wholly failed. To be able to discover
the fault shows that I have not lost sight of the plan, and am not
deaf to the still small voice of conscience. And the wonderful
thing in character-building is that so long as life lasts
opportunity is given all to correct the faults. Fortunate, indeed,
am I if the faults be those of days rather than of years. Yet it
were better to begin all over again, though the structure
eventually remain incomplete, than never to have made the attempt.
But I must not put off the rebuilding to "a more convenient
season," for "the night cometh when no man can work." Opportunity
is mine, but it is limited. The sands remaining in my hour-glass I
cannot see.

Still, I must not despair. Hands of brotherly love are outstretched
to help me.

Toil though we may, none toils alone--
A brother's hands help lift the stone
My arm is powerless to place;
And love is beaming from his face.

Furthermore, we cannot contemplate the sublime truths of Masonry
without receiving a reciprocal blessing. It is an immutable law
that like begets like. Out of the abundance of the harvest is the
promise of another garnering of like kind. And we sow without
doubt, knowing that as we sow so shall we also reap. What is true
of nature is true of spirituality. Of all the gifts of the inner
life, the highest is that of love. Brotherly love unifies Masonry,
and in its expression ennobles the lives of the brethren. It is
this ennoblement, this enrichment so evident in innumerable
instances, that draws men to our sanctuaries, humble and voluntary
applicants for admission. They have discovered in the influences of
Masonry a transforming power for good which they would fain enjoy.

Sculptured in profile on a New England mountain cliff is the noble
face of a man. Tradition foretold that one day the counterpart
would appear in human form. And the story runs that a lad was wont
to visit the spot, watching in his boyish faith for the fulfillment
of the promise. Alas, many passed, but never one who in lineament
and expression reflected the heavenly beauty of the face of the
granite hills. From boyhood the watcher grew to youth, and from
youth to manhood, and still his dream remained unfulfilled. The
tocsin of war sounded, and he hastened to the defense of his
country's flag. Bravely, honorably, heroically he did his part, but
often on picket duty in the gloomy watches of the night or amid the
fitful sleep of the turf-pillowed bivouac, that radiant face of the
distant mountain would reveal itself, and he would study it with
the eyes of introspection. The war ended, and it was vouchsafed to
him to return to his home. From force of habit he repaired to the
mountain. There stood the face, as it had stood for ages untold,
not an attribute impaired. Lost in reverie the soldier in his faded
uniform became unconscious of surroundings, and unaware of the
gathering of an awe-struck group. The tradition was at last come
true; the counterpart in human form was there--but he did not know
it.

Like begets like, beauty begets beauty, love begets love, holiness
begets holiness, but the discovery is left to others.

Frequenting the almost inaccessible peak of a lofty mountain was a
bird of snow-white plumage. Its name was Purity, and to him who
should find one of its spotless feathers was the promise of eternal
life. Many essayed to find a feather, but discouraged by the
obstacles became disheartened and dropped back to the Valley of
Ease---all save one. Undaunted, though bruised and bleeding, he
pressed upward. Often he stumbled, sometimes he slipped backward,
but only to regain lost ground and to keep on climbing. Would he
ever reach the top ? His strength was giving out, when suddenly the
shadow of the bird rested upon him. With one last effort he
stretched forth his hand, but only to grasp thin air. He fell and
died, and then, lo the miracle ! From the pitying breast of the
hovering bird descended a feather, and rested on the palm of the
nerveless hand. The gift of eternal life was won.

Brethren, the spiritual rewards of Masonry are not to be sought in
the Valley of Ease. They may be summed up in one phrase--the
satisfaction of feeling that we have endeavored to walk uprightly
in every path of life, and to discharge our duties to God, to
country, to home, to our fellow-men in conformity with the sublime
teachings of the Order. The rest may be left to Him who noteth even
the fall of a sparrow.

"Oh ! the cedars of Lebanon grow at our door,
And the quarry is sunk at our gate;
And the ships out of Ophir, with golden ore,
For our summoning mandate wait;
And the word of a Master Mason
May the house of our soul create !
While the day hath light let the light be used,
For no man shall the night control !
Or ever the silver cord be loosed,
Or broken the golden bowl,
May we build King Solomon's Temple
In the true Masonic soul!"

And the meaning is this--that we do not have to go far afield to
discharge our Masonic obligations, and to be spiritually quickened.
In the pursuit of wealth men often travel to the uttermost parts of
the world and endure danger and privation without end, alas,
sometimes in vain, not realizing that mines of golden promise lie
buried at the very doorsteps of the homes they have spurned.
So the demands for the exercise of Masonic virtues lie close at
hand. The stranger, hopeless, distressed, is knocking at our gate
for admittance. The tearstained faces of the widow and the orphan
are lifted in appeal to our windows. The brother, needy in a
material or in a spiritual sense, is mutely stretching out his hand
for help and sympathy along the pathway of our daily routine. Our
homes are demanding of us the highest expressions of love. Our city
and our country are expecting us to exemplify civic righteousness.
And the voice of God is ever ringing in our ears, "Inasmuch as ye
have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have
done it unto Me."

It is a misnomer to speak of the spiritual side of Masonry. If
there be another side it is foreign to our Order, and I know it
not. Spirituality is the life of Masonry. Blest is he who is
privileged to partake of it, and to help rebuild the Temple of King
Solomon.

