Did you ever travel?
My forefathers did.
Where did they travel?
Due east and west.
What was the object of their travels?
They travelled east in search of instruction,
and west to propagate the knowledge they had gained.
Second Emulation Lecture

Before the photograph below brings down accusations of triviality on me, I should point out that our sister publication in Germany recently carried an article by an economist Freemason entitled Freemasonry - Key Qualification for Living, or Profession Without a Future? The question is, amongst other things, what does Freemasonry qualify us for, and how does it do that? With all the talking that’s going on nowadays in the Craft, I’m not sure we have yet addressed the vital questions: what are we as an Order? Are we faithful to the precepts of the early Freemasons? What are we doing? Why are we doing it? Are we travelling anywhere, and if so, why?
    We start from the means we have of ‘making masons’, as they used to say in the 18th century, namely the ritual of the three degrees. This is, and must be, the core of our activity; without initiating, passing and raising men in our order, we really are nothing better than a dining club. So it follows, doesn’t it, that we really have to pick those chaps as Masters who really know what they are saying, and can do so without hesitation, and do it with meaning. In our constitution we are condemned to learn this by heart. I am sure the justification is that if you have managed to learn the degree ceremonies by heart, you will understand their meaning better. Otherwise, I think we would all agree, it would be better read from an open book, as it is done with great dignity and sincerity in other constitutions. Of course this is not all we have to do to tidy up our act.
    Take music for example. A book of suggested melodies to be played in lodge I saw recently contained such gems as Puff the Magic Dragon; My Old Man Said Follow the Van; So Long, It’s Been Good to Know You. I won’t bore you with them all. Good stuff for a 50s retrospective, but nothing whatsoever to do with Freemasonry.
    How many times have I looked round the lodge room and noticed quite a number of chaps slumbering peacefully through a degree ceremony! What is the point of being there and, more importantly, what is the Master doing in such a boring fashion as to send these chaps to sleep? Then, when they’ve woken up, we salute some of them (sometimes the saluting is what wakes them) as though they were some kind of military élite. Is this poetry? Consider instead the beauty of the language in the following passage from the Anglican communion service:

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid, cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of Thy Holy Spirit...

I defy anybody to sleep through such poetry. Our ritual is intricate, beautiful and poetic if we get down to studying the real meaning. And it is the real meaning that new entrants to the Craft are looking for. I still maintain, as I have before in these pages, the reason the retention rate is so poor is because we are not delivering what our initiates are expecting. Young chaps coming into our Order are expecting spiritual fulfilment, knowledge, enlightenment, answers to moral and philosophical dilemmas, and when we do deliver on this, they are turned on by it. They are not turned on by striped trousers, loud gavelling and endless discussions about promotion prospects.
    Most of our readers, I think, know Leonardo da Vinci’s painting of the Last Supper in the Santa Maria delle Grazie church in Milan. Some years ago I had the opportunity to see the original, and at the time it was in the process of being restored. As the restorers painstakingly removed the dirt of centuries and the well-meant attempts of those who, over the years, have tried to improve on it, all the deep, rich colouring, the patina of age and the venerable aura which has surrounded that famous work was disappearing. At first I found this hurtful and unsettling. Then, slowly, I saw what was really happening. It was being transformed into bright, vibrant, dynamic colours and forms (I had not realised, for instance, that behind the long table at which Jesus sits with his disciples, there are galleries leading off to left and right). I began to see the painting which Leonardo painted in the first place.
    I am tempted to say, ‘don’t be hurt or unsettled as we chip away at the accretion of years of useless procedure and pompous practices’. We are about to reveal the clear, dynamic and powerful force of Freemasonry for the good of mankind and of society, to clear away the patina so as to unveil the secrets of nature and the principles of intellectual truth. It may be unsettling, so fasten your seatbelt and prepare for what may be a hectic ride. And remember, it’s not going to be a ride down a cul-de-sac. We’re going to explore the galleries to left and right. I believe that great rewards await us.