Yes, I am saying it with my full chest now and I know this will hurt some of tour feelings and I am sorry if it hurts your feelings to hear some hard cold truth. If you still support the current regime in the United States and their multiple murders of unarmed citizens by ICE and CBP, you do not follow Masonic values. ICE has kidnapped children and ripped apart families. You are supposed to be true to your country wich includes the constitution of the United States and this current regime is not following the constitution. This is past politics now, this is difference between being compassionate human being with actual empathy and sympathy and Masonic values, and submitting to an Authoritarian regime that murders, kidnappes and follows no laws. This is a bit of a rant becuae of another murder by CBP agents that shot a man laying on the ground 5 times. The videos prove ill intent and they immediately try to cover it up.

I

I sought you first for splendour—
as boys seek brass upon the breast, or lovers seek a name
carved deep in bark to outlast weather.
I wanted the shining proof of you,
a bright device to wear above my ordinary days,
and set my heart between two inward columns
as if a hall could be raised by pride alone.
I hung my silence with imaginary banners,
and called the trembling in my blood reverence.

Yet you came, not with trumpets,
but with the mild insistence of a wick finding its oil—
a low flame, honey-coloured, patient as a bee’s work,
and all my finery turned in that light
to something thin, like gilt on cheap wood.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

II

I sought you then for comfort—
as the tired seek a threshold and a basin of cool water,
as one pursued by winter seeks any room that holds a little heat.
I asked for the gentle part of mystery:
a charm to set against grief,
a spell to blunt the tooth of memory,
a soft hand laid across the brow.

And you were gentle:
your warmth was like beeswax melting—
a scent of old books, cedar, and clean linen;
your hush was the hush before a vow,
the hush that gathers when a circle closes
and even the proudest breath grows careful.
But comfort is a veil, and you—
you are the lifting of veils.

You widened, you steadied;
you leaned your clarity upon me as moonlight leans
upon a floor of dark and pale—
and what I called “peace” turned to seeing.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

III

O light, you were never ornament.
You were the true angle set against the tongue,
the cold arc of a compass drawn around desire,
the plumb-line dropped straight through the chest
to sound what lies beneath the speech of virtue.
You measured me without malice—
as a star measures a traveller,
as a tide measures a shore.

I began to fear you, then—
not as men fear thunder,
but as men fear mirrors in the morning.
For you made plain the small deceits
that live like soot in the hinge of habit:
the quick, sweet lie; the lazy mercy withheld;
the secret pleasure of being right.
My will, that proud stallion, stamped and flared.

And somewhere in the hush, behind the eyelids,
a phrase rose like incense from a hidden brazier:
thelema—the burning word for will—
and with it, softer than steel yet harder than stone,
the law that is not licence but a yoke of stars:
Love is the law, love under will.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

IV

Then the work began—
not in the hands, but in the inward grain of me.
I had thought myself a temple already,
finished, worthy, roofed in gold.
But you showed me roughness—
not monstrous, not dramatic—
only the ordinary jutting edges of the self,
the places where pride catches cloth and tears it.

So I struck at what was needless—
not with fury, but with rhythm:
a small, steady knocking in the dark,
as if some quiet gavel in my marrow
refused the luxury of despair.
Each blow sent up a little cloud—
motes turning like planets in your beam—
and I learned this strange arithmetic:
what falls away is often what I loved most.

You were an alchemist’s fire, O light:
in your heat the leaden habits softened,
the dull old weights began to run like metal,
blackened first, then paling—
as if the soul must pass through soot and salt
before it can bear the blush of gold.
And still the air was full of drifting witness.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

V

I had imagined mystery as theatre—
a robe, a word, a sudden blaze;
but mystery is also the discipline of the unseen.
It is the hand that smooths what anger cracked,
the careful laying of mercy between living stones,
the trowel of the heart moving in silence
to bind what would fall apart.

So I began to carry you outward—
not as a lantern held high for praise,
but as a hidden flame kept from the wind.
I let you level my gaze
until I could meet the stranger without hunger
for superiority or reward.
I learned to bow to grey hair
as one bows to snowfall—
not because it is weak,
but because it has endured.

I kept a white cloth at the waist of thought—
not a badge, but a reminder:
keep clean hands, keep humble hands,
even when the world is mud.
And a beehive woke beneath my ribs,
a humming industry of care,
where each small sweetness was made from labour,
not from talk.

When widows stood at the edge of winter,
I tried to be a door that did not slam.
When the orphaned heart shivered in the street of the spirit,
I tried to be bread without questions.
When the helpless were hunted by the loud,
I tried to be a shield made of quiet.
When the oppressed bent like grass beneath boots,
I tried to be the hand that lifts—
not to boast of strength, but to restore the spine.
When the downcast spoke in broken syllables,
I tried to be listening, not instruction.
When the rejected wore their shame like a torn coat,
I tried to stitch dignity back into the seam.

And where the common road is held by law—
that hard, necessary iron that keeps the cart from chaos—
I did not spit upon it for the sake of pride;
I honoured the order that lets the weak sleep.
Yet I remembered: obedience without morality
is only a well-swept cage.
So I kept you burning:
a private tribunal of conscience,
a lamp that judges without hatred.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

VI

And you asked of me knowledge—
not the cold hoard of clever men,
but the common stock of understanding,
the shared loaf of meaning broken for the many.
So I opened the book where my heart had been closed,
and let its pages breathe upon my eyes
like a night wind off a river.

I set one candle more in the library of the world.
I spoke a word that loosened another’s fear.
I learned a thing and gave it,
as bees give honey—
not because they are praised,
but because abundance is their nature.
I honoured the bonds of friendship
as one honours a bridge in flood—
by walking it faithfully, by not testing it for sport.

And sometimes—
when the ritual hush came down like snowfall
and the air seemed thick with older names,
when gestures felt like keys turning
in locks I could not see—
I sensed each soul as a star kept under cloth,
each life a point of fire sworn to its own orbit;
and I understood the terrible tenderness of it:
not all stars are kind,
yet all are meant to burn true.

So you made a temple of me, O light—
not a temple of marble,
but of measured hours and reined desire,
of mercy laid carefully like mortar,
of truth squared to the tongue,
of love made obedient to will.
And because you built, you also exposed—
for temples gather dust as surely as cottages do.
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust.

VII

Now I do not ask you to flatter me.
I do not ask you to be soft.
I ask only that you remain—
that you keep your steady, intimate gaze
upon the checkered floor of my days,
upon the twin pillars of my breath,
upon the door of my choosing.

Let your eye be in the flame,
not to terrify, but to teach me
what it means to be seen and not be ashamed.
Let your circle close around my appetite
until my wildness becomes music,
until my “want” becomes “ought,”
until the lead in me remembers gold.

And when I fall—
for dust is faithful, and returns—
give me the humble courage to sweep again,
to strike again, to measure again;
to lift the bowed, to shelter the storm-tossed,
to defend what is pure when purity is mocked,
to hold the old in honour,
to keep the friend,
to steady the trembling,
to raise the crushed,
to comfort the dimming,
to restore the outcast’s face to itself,
to respect the law that guards the small,
to promote the quiet goodness that outlasts noise,
to add my handful of light to the world’s great need.

For this is the true enchantment—
not a word spoken once,
but a life spoken daily,
a vow renewed in ordinary rooms,
a green sprig in ash, a promise in winter:
The brighter the lamp, the clearer the dust—
so I sweep on, and let the lamp be judge.

-- Jeffrey Phillips Freeman

https://jeffreyfreeman.me/blog/the-lamp-and-the-dust/

==================================

I joined Freemasonry only about 3 years ago, and have found it wholly enriching and have come to love our shared moral outlook. Inspired by this I recently wrote the above poem and wants to share it with my brothers here.

PS I wasnt sure what flair was appropriate so I went with Article, my apologies if this was not the correct flair to use.

Hello brethren, I was just raised on January 29th 2025, it was such an honor and an experience that will be with me forever. All the hard work that my brothers put into it, I really appreciate them for it because I know it takes work and dedication. Also having done long forms for both first and second degree, made it that much sweeter 😎.. from Orange County Anaheim Lodge 207, God Bless You Brothers. 🤝/G\

After a year of going to the benefits my dad’s lodge hosts, I fell in love with everything that involves the charities and community. Last Tuesday I did my initiation and it was the most amazing experience I’ve ever had. Off topic but it was amazing to not feel judged by my past or appearance (going through tattoo removal and not one brother looked at me sideways.)

So proud and honoured to get my first degree done tonight. Thank you brothers for your help and answering my questions over the past 6 months!

My grandfather was a Freemason and I found a book that belonged to him in my basement recently. It feels invasive having it. But of course, a lovely memory. If that makes any sense at all. Please feel free to downvote if this post is a silly one.

The exam was challenging, the Degree itself was touching and beautiful, and impeccably executed – it was evident that all the Masters of the Lodge were doing more than their best ❤️ Now onwards to keep studying and learning!

Thanks (almost) everyone on this community for being supportive, amity/recognition or not!

RESOLUTION OF MEMBERSHIP To be a Freemason is to be part of a brotherhood dedicated to personal growth, service to others, and the pursuit of knowledge and truth. It is an honor to belong to an organization that promotes these timeless values: WHEREAS, President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. has demonstrated exceptional dedication and service to the United States of America. WHEREAS, his service reflects the core values of the Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of the State of South Carolina, including brotherly love, relief, and truth. WHEREAS, President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. contributions have significantly benefited the citizens of the United States of America; THEREFORE, BE IT RESOLVED, that 1, 27th Most Worshipful Grand Master, Victor C. Major, on behalf of the members of the Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of the State of South Carolina, hereby confer membership upon President Joseph R. Biden, Jr. in recognition of his outstanding service to the United States of America. BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED, that this resolution of Membership be recorded in the archives of the Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of the State of South Carolina. GIVEN THIS 19th DAY OF January A.D. 2025 Victor C. Major 27th Most Worshipful Grand Master Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons of the State of South

A Summary of my Masonic Year

Just to make it clear, following the modern profane tradition, I’m referring to the calendar year 2024, so I’ll start in January and end on the last Works I attended yesterday 🙂

A few stats:

⁃ Finished 1 operative project (moving into and renovating our Lodge premises);

⁃ Attended 38 speculative Works, out of which:

⁃ 11 took place in my Mother Lodge;

⁃ 17 took place in other Lodges within my Obedience, the Grand Orient of Poland;

⁃ 3 were all-Obedience (or cross-Obediences) special events: a winter Banquet, summer Saint John’s, and the Grand Orient of Poland Convention;

⁃ 7 were visits outside of the Grand Orient of Poland;

⁃ Attended Works (within and outside the Grand Orient of Poland) in 5 different countries: Poland, Austria, Latvia, Germany and Belgium. Spain almost happened again but didn’t pan out because of organizational issues 🙂

⁃ Visited the Grand Lodge of New York as a tourist;

⁃ Attended Works within 8 different Obediences: the Grand Orient of Poland, Grand Orient of Austria (in Vienna), Grand Lodge Libertas (in Riga), Grand Lodge Humanitas (in Berlin), Grand Orient of Belgium (in Brussels), Grand Orient of France (we hosted them in Warsaw), Women’s Grand Lodge of France (Polish branch, in Warsaw), Grand Lodge of Cultures and Spirituality (Polish branch, in Warsaw);

⁃ Participated in the enlightenment of two new GOP Lodges, in Poznań (the Lodge will work in Szczecin) and Wrocław;

⁃ Worked in Lodges practicing 6 different Rites: French Rite (Groussier), AASR (three versions of it), Emulation Rite (a variation of it worked in the Grand Orient of Austria), the Ancient and Primitive Rite of Memphis-Misraim, Eclectic (German) Rite, and Rectified Scottish Rite;

⁃ Took part in Works in 4 different languages: Polish, English, French, German (I specifically started learning German in February for this, was able to convey fraternal salutations in October);

⁃ Attended the Initiation of 7 new Masons;

⁃ Attended funeral Works once;

⁃ Attended a Banquet with Napoleonic military Ritual, food, and wine galore.

Other cool things:

⁃ Attended Works in a horse stable near Cracow;

⁃ Saw the Masonic collection at the Poznań University Library Museum, including a first-edition copy of Anderson’s Constitutions;

⁃ Was passed to the Fellowcraft Degree in June;

⁃ Took care of the Column of Harmony (music) at my Mother Lodge;

⁃ Held the office of Secretary more times than I should have;

⁃ Honed my skills as a masonic interpreter (French-Polish, English-Polish, Spanish-Polish);

⁃ Wrote a book (a collection of Masonic Papers), and I’m working on a monograph about the language of anti-masonic propaganda;

⁃ Established myself as a musical performer (piano and voice) at Masonic events.

New Year resolutions:

⁃ Publish my collection of Masonic Papers in English and Polish (need to get it translated into Polish, though);

⁃ Finish the monograph and publish it;

⁃ See at least one passing to Fellowcraft;

⁃ Be raised to the Sublime Degree of Master Mason*.

*I don’t know about this one. I’m actually intimidated by the amount of responsibility it entails in my Obedience in contrast to Fellowcraft, might ask to stay behind for one more year to feel better prepared.

P. S. Forgive me for any formatting issues, this is the third time I've tried to post this and I give up.

The new petition, sent out last night, puts it in disagreement with UGLE. I'm sure this will be responded to amiably and thoughtfully from within its membership.

My Father passed away a week today.

Today we finished making arrangements for my Dad’s funeral this coming Thursday.

I gave the undertaker my EA apron to put on him and I am speaking during the service to mark his Masonic career then hopefully reciting a slightly re-worded version of ‘I sat in lodge with you’.

Dad, I hope to see you up there. As usual mine’s a double single malt, a good Talisker please.

I Sat in Lodge With You - Wilbur D Nesbit

There is a saying filled with cheer,
Which calls a man to fellowship.
It means as much for him to hear
As lies within the brothers grip.

Nay, more! It opens wide the way
To friendliness sincere and true;
There are no strangers when you say
To me: “I sat in lodge with you.”

When that is said, then I am known;
There is not questioning or doubt;
I need not walk my path alone
Nor from my fellows be shut out.

Those words hold all of brotherhood
And help me face the world anew–
something deep and rich and good
In this: “I sat in lodge with you:’

Though in far lands one needs must roam
By sea and shore and hill and plain,
Those words bring him a touch of home
And lighten tasks that seem in vain.

Men’s faces are no longer strange
But seem as he always knew
When some one rings the joyous change
With his: “I sat in lodge with you.”

So you, my brother, now and then
Have often put me in your debt
By showing forth to other men
That you your friends do not forget.

When all the world seems gray and cold
And I am weary, worn and blue,
Then comes this golden thought I hold-
I sat in lodge with you.

So to the last great lodge you’ve fared
My prayer is that you may be
One of those who wait me there,
Intent your smiling face to see.

Then we, with the Tyler at the gate,
Will have a pleasant task to do;
We’ll call, though you come soon or late:
” Come in! We sat in lodge with you!”

Along with 4 other Brothers, I was initiated to this wonderful fraternity today — I took my obligation on my grandpa’s Bible that he gave to me.

This was an absolutely amazing day!

What rite do you belong to, and what does your lodge look like?

My Local Hall in Weymouth is among the oldest purpose built Masonic Halls in the country. For the lodges bicentenary they restored the floor that had this pattern painted on it and relaid it in plastic to be more hard-wearing. The hall was built in 1816 and the sole lodge that meets in it (All Souls Lodge 170) was founded in 1736.