Often enough it is said that to be a good mason does not require a man to have a photographic memory or an ability to repeat long passages of dense ritual, parrot-fashion.
    Allied to this sentiment and often running parallel with it are the excuses, sincerely believed and expressed, for not learning the ritual. People say: “Oh, you’re so lucky being able to memorize all that. I could never do it.” That’s what they say.
    Little by little we become attuned to the view that it is somehow not too smart to be able to work the ritual accurately; that there are more important things in masonry, that we do not have the necessary skills, and that as long as the sense is there in essence, then that is all that is necessary.
    Whence comes the striving for ritual perfection? I believe it to derive from the time of the union of the two Grand Lodges to form the United Grand Lodge of England in 1813, when it was held that the securing of harmony and purpose required uniformity of ritual forms and standards. Uniformity could be achieved, it was said, through attention to ritual accuracy (Grand Lodge agreed on the new ritual devised by the Lodge of Reconciliation in 1816). Furthermore, given the fact that writing down anything in the way of ritual was about the most most heinous crime you could commit in those days, the teaching and learning of accurate forms was to be verbal and oral.
    In fact, the idea that the ritual is still practised word for word as it was at the Union is incorrect. For example, until the year 1906, the Emulation Lodge of Improvement had no set form of words for the J.D. when instructing a candidate to advance to the pedestal, and Senior Committee Member Bro. Robert Clay Sudlow ruled that “as in the past, there is no official form of words insisted upon.” Once the Silver Matchbox had been established, that latitude could not persist, and from January 1908 things were tightened up considerably. So, for better or worse, the movement has striven for ritual accuracy.
    Let us return to the objections. Firstly, the “I could never memorize all that” objection. I suspect that the person who says that has never really tried. The problem is that we feel intimidated, and so become convinced we cannot learn it. The trick is to start with small sections and work up to bigger sections as you go along. We can learn, and there is much satisfaction to be gained from doing so.
    Objectors refer to the practice in other countries where the Master may read from the ritual book, open adjacent to the Volume of the Sacred Law. This practice does leave time for the Master to invest the ritual with greater expression, making for a more dignified and meaningful rendering. Many of us in the U.K. would consider this as a luxury; perhaps too much of a luxury. Ritual work is work; it is an art. Thorough learning illuminates the inner meaning of the text. We should expect to be able to hear the words in our sleep so that others may not sleep when they hear the words. New candidates’ impression of the Craft cannot be disassociated from correct practice, and he will also recognize his own obligations in the matter. Ritual provides the first shape of masonic thinking; the building must stand. In this sense, correct ritual is the friend of masonry and therefore requires intimate acquaintance.
    The self-worth of the brother is another significant factor. I believe it to be a disservice both to the prose and to the intention of the prose to render it less completely than it was first conceived.
    The final justification for ritual excellence lies in the idea - almost fantastic to some - that brotherhood and companionship spring from this source.
    So what do we seek : the damnable din of the Tower of Babel, or cathedral spires of sound which sing to us as they - and we - soar heavenward? A cacophany of sound, or the music of the spheres? The choice is ours.