Worshipful Brother Jim Davidson OBE is one of the best known comedians in the United Kingdom. He has always driven himself hard, eagerly seeking excess, until that excess began seeking him; then he pleaded for help.
    By surviving such relentless waywardness, his life is a testimony to inner strength prevailing over external folly. He has entered alcohol rehabilitation several times, passed through four marriages and indulged in affairs beyond anybody’s ability to count. He has also personally raised hundreds of thousands of pounds for charity of which much has been for masonic causes. He joins with other artists in charitable events: the last Royal Masonic Variety Show, which he compered, raised over £45,000 for the New Masonic Samaritan Trust and The Children’s Trust. He is heading the 2001 show at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane on 14 October. He founded; and is also patron of, The British Forces Foundation (Patron: H.R.H. The Prince of Wales) which raises money to bring entertainment to troops serving in dangerous or isolated parts of the world such as Kosovo - where on one trip he personally performed eighteen shows in two and a half days.
    His life has been outrageous and self-indulgent: along the way he almost died; and along the way he joined Freemasonry, which saved his life; this year he decided to write about it. His book, aptly entitled Close to the Edge, published in October.
    When his office contacted me about an interview I was very interested to have the chance to prise apart his busy schedule and talk to him at his home in Surrey. The one cloud on this horizon was a terse email from his publicist, “You have one hour.” It normally takes me about that time to unpack my cameras and find a spare page in my notebook. I viewed it as a challenge. I think Jim Davidson viewed it as a link between eating a bacon sandwich and feeding his pet fish. To be fair, he did offer me one – a bacon sandwich, that is. Moreover, he had to catch a plane for Plymouth to give a show.
    I decided to get to the heart of the matter:
    “Your publishers biked me a copy of your manuscript yesterday. I read it all in one sitting. Its immediacy and pace was such that I came out the other end feeling like I was emerging from a heavy night of excess. How do you cope with all the pressure you take upon yourself?”
    “I don’t cope. I fall to pieces”.

Becoming a Freemason

In his book he describes in tragic and intimate detail a number of his `falls’. Yet he emerged from each more determined and more successful than before. The ladder he has climbed has had some rather rotten rungs but he is still climbing. Aiding his progress now is his commitment to Freemasonry; especially to the spiritual wisdom and guidance expressed through its precepts:
    “Freemasonry gives me a set of rules to live by, which I quite like because one thing I did learn…is that I didn’t know the answer to everything”.
    He was initiated into Chelsea Lodge, No. 3098, in London, which draws its membership from the entertainment world and, in the past, has had such members as Tommy Cooper and Peter Sellers; with such talent as the Lodge has available they generally hold a cabaret after the festive board.
    When his initiation came around he was very nervous, the more so when he discovered that there were about 400 masons present in the temple. He continued to draw crowds: when he was installed as Master around 750 Brethren were present. This was, apparently, the biggest private Lodge meeting ever held in England.
    Following his initiation he began a process of learning. He read all the standard books on Freemasonry and then moved on to more radical works, elements of which he has absorbed unfortunately without much discrimination.
    Nevertheless, the result of his extensive reading was that he began to listen to the words of the ritual more closely and to search for the meaning which lay beneath.
    “So, would you say that Freemasonry was a journey to enlightenment?”
    He agreed: “That’s it, in a nutshell”.

Time to reflect

He has gained spiritual awareness through Freemasonry. He stresses the importance of reflecting upon what we are doing as Masons,
    “Once we become a Freemason, we become charitable, but this is not our major role. Unfortunately a lot of masons miss the point – they miss the spirituality within it”.
    Earlier this year, as Master of Chelsea Lodge, he asked all Brethren,
    “Before we open the Lodge I just want us to take a minute to reflect on what it means to be a mason. Why are we here? What do we all want?”
    All members of the Lodge stood in silence. The point being – as he explained to me – was to “get our hearts in tune”. Afterwards, he hoped, the ritual would have greater meaning for all Brethren present. Unfortunately, he confessed, most of those present had little idea of what he was trying to do.

A Temple for all

He has a very religious approach to Freemasonry which goes far beyond what the United Grand Lodge of England considers acceptable:
    “I always say that Freemasonry is a religion”.
    Not surprisingly, this gets him into trouble: he is told that he must not call it a religion.
    “But it is to me”, he pleads, blithely ignoring the first Charge in the Book of Constitutions.
    He complained to me, “The religions have their churches where one can go at any time but there is nowhere for us to practice our Freemasonry outside the Lodge. We need a place where we can go and reflect in silence upon the Great Architect of the Universe.”
    I was intrigued, “Well, that is a very good idea”, and* added without really thinking it through, “surely there must be a disused church somewhere in London…”
    “And we could buy it!,” he interjected, sparking now with enthusiasm, the bacon sandwich finished and the fish and the flight to Plymouth forgotten.
    Now here was a supremely radical concept for Freemasonry: a public temple to the Great Architect of the Universe, open to men and women of all faiths, a non-sectarian place of stillness and silence and dignity in the heart of London; perhaps even with “Know thyself” carved above the door and a radiant all-seeing eye at the centre of the ceiling. I decided I liked this man’s ideas.
    But I caught myself: Freemasonry is not a religion. How could we ever get away with taking over a church? Then I recalled that Jim Davidson seems to have got away with most things in his life. And he was serious. But visions of Giordano Bruno kept hovering at the edges of my mind.

Spreading the Word

Jim Davidson’s masonic interests are now extensive. Apart from the Chelsea Lodge, he is the Immediate Past Master of the City of Westminster Lodge, founding Master of the British Forces Foundation Lodge, soon to become a Preceptor in Knights Templar and is a member of other Orders including, the Red Cross of Constantine and the Royal Order of Scotland.
    He is enthusiastic in his book about the value of Freemasonry, stressing how it makes you into a better person. But, he notes that unfortunately, “Not everybody wants to be a better human being”. Yet he has seen the changes which Freemasonry has wrought in himself and in others.
    “People don’t understand Freemasonry but I would urge everybody, ‘Take the plunge. Take a leap of faith. Go and speak to a Mason, and get yourself in’.”