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FREEMASONRY TODAY
Dimensions
Canon Richard Tydeman on the Discovery of Purpose
Having spent five years as a boy
chorister in a cathedral choir
and sixty-four years as a
clergyman, I suppose I must have
heard more sermons than most people
have. I say ‘heard’ rather than ‘listened
to’ because there are very few that I
remember now. I don’t think this in
any way an uncommon experience and
I have no doubt that people have said
similar things about the many sermons
that I have preached myself.
Occasionally, however, one hears a note
of appreciation: the other day I met, after
fifty years, a man who had been a choir-boy
in the parish where I was the Vicar. ‘I
always listened to your sermons’, he said,
‘they were the only ones I could ever
understand.’ I felt very comforted by this!
Going back to the many sermons that
I have heard myself, one of the very few
that I do remember was given by the late
Martin Luther King. No, it wasn’t the ‘I
have a dream’ address, it was a sermon
given in St. Paul’s Cathedral when he was
visiting this country and I particularly
remember it because it developed the
teaching of masonry. I don’t know if King
was a Freemason himself but he certainly
used similar language.
Briefly, the theme of
his sermon was the
building of life and
character. This, he said,
was a matter of
‘dimensions’. Many
people live in only one
dimension: life, for them,
is just a straight line with
self-gratification as its sole
objective. It has no depth
or breadth but ploughs on
to the end without
achieving anything.
Other people live in
two dimensions, moving
forward but also
spreading outward from
side to side, having some
consideration for the
needs of other people and
attempting to do good. If
life in one dimension can
be called bare existence, then twodimensional
life might be described as
‘square’. This is obviously better but it
cannot be considered complete.
Length then, and breadth are two
dimensions but the third and most
important one is height. Life must move
forward; it must broaden out into ‘square
measurement’ and it must also reach
upwards in order to give solidity to one’s
character and purpose to one’s existence.
Of course, Martin Luther King was
preaching a sermon and not just writing a
‘Reflection’ but the message is the same
in either case: man needs to be working in
his own interests, he needs to be aware of
other people and their interests too but
man is only capable of doing these things
by seeking assistance from above. This is
why Freemasonry holds, as the first and
most important landmark of the Order,
that every candidate must have – and
declare – his belief in God.
No, this is not ‘making masonry a
religion’ any more than prayers at the
opening of each session of Parliament
makes politics a religion. Freemasonry is
one of the very few organisations which
still maintains rules made in the
eighteenth century; it doesn’t ask what a
man’s religion is but it does insist that he
believes in a ‘Supreme Being’ and to
avoid offending any religion by referring
to that Supreme Being by one name or
another; masons talk of ‘The Great
Architect of the Universe’ and members
of all religions can agree that this sums up
what we all want to say.
Now the three dimensions could be
said to correspond to the three degrees of
Craft masonry; the First Degree
representing the entrance to our mortal
existence and the making of a just and
upright mason. The Second Degree
prompts us to ‘extend our researches’
while the Third deals with the most
exalted qualities as well as the deepest.
Let me finish by repeating a story
which I have told many times in orations
and sermons. It may or may not be true
but its message certainly is and I make no
apology for telling it again.
The story is told that Sir Christopher
Wren, while building St. Paul’s, was
anxious to find out what his workmen
really felt about what they were doing so,
disguising himself as a casual visitor he
entered one of the workshops where the
three men, each with a gavel and chisel,
were working on three blocks of stone.
Wren approached the first man and asked
what he was doing. ‘I’m knocking bits off
this stone until it’s two feet by one foot by
one foot six’, said the man, ‘and a very
boring job it is too.’
Wren moved to the second man and
asked the same question. ‘Doing?’ said
the second man, ‘I’m earning eighteen
pence a day and that isn’t much when
you’ve got a wife and children to support,
is it.’
So Wren went on to the third man who
looked up with a smile. ‘Yes sir’, he said,
‘I can tell you what I am doing; I’m
helping a fellow called Christopher Wren
to build a cathedral.’
They were all three doing exactly the
same job but the last one had achieved the
ability to understand the purpose of his
life and work. It is this third dimension
that transforms the square of regularity
into the cube of perfection.
Issue 50, Autumn 2009
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