Masonic Articles and Essays
The Antiquity and Genius of Masonry
Bro. Rev. Thomas Somerville
Date Published: 4/10/2024
The dedication of a Lodge is a most solemn occasion. Not only is a new edifice raised to the glory of Masonry but a great Chain of Being is remembered on that day. What foundation is Masonry herself built upon? By what prophets and apostles does she derive her genius?
The Dedication of the Lodge is one of the most solemn ordinances of our ancient order, and I am certain that as these holy symbols stood unveiled in their new resting place, and your thoughts wandered back through the corridor of ages to the scene of their first introduction, and forward to the rich associations that will be entwined around them in the future, thoughts deep and hallowed could not fail to well up from the springs of your heart. Be it simply mine, then, as one for all, to voice forth these our silent reflections. The work completed to-day is called "The Dedication of the Lodge to the Holy Saint John," the patron of our order. But strictly speaking, the work has a double purpose - both dedication and consecration. The Lodge is dedicated to virtue, in the name of the Great Jehovah, and consecrated, separated, and set apart to the purpose of preserving the memory of these illustrious names. It is dedicated to virtue. True masonry is the dutiful daughter of Heaven. The Lodge is the sacred shrine of Almighty Jehovah. By his law every mason must be a good and true man - true to himself his fellows, and to the Being before whom he has bent in adoring reverence. The, "stupid Atheist or irreligious libertine" may make himself a false man, but never a good mason. The mason is pledged to pious virtue. Nor let it be forgotten that virtue originally meant valor. Among the old Romans the most valorous man was esteemed the most virtuous now while strength should not be all, it must still form an important element of goodness. The good man must ever be a strong man.
Mere sentimentalism is silly like the vapour it appeareth for a little while and then vanisheth away. In every "good and true man" there, must be a healthy firmness. The feeling of desire must he yoked with the principle of right, and will must drive them both. Rugged strength and radiant beauty, These were one in nature's plan Humble toil and Heavenward duty, These will form the perfect man. To virtue, strong and beautiful, is this Hall dedicated. Never, then, let careless feet defile its pavement, nor unclean hands touch its vessels never let angry disputations he heard within its walls. Conscience as a faithful Tyler must guard off the Furies of Discord. Temper must be ever tempered, and feeling chastened. It is that we may become better men than we meet here, and all our labours - the charges, the rituals, the ceremonies, nay, every jewel and ornament, every article of furniture, every emblem and hieroglyphic, tend to this point.
But more, the Lodge is consecrated to the memory of St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist and it is proper that we should shortly recall to our minds their lives and labours. Right too, that their names should have, been linked together, not that they were like each other, but just because they were widely different in their temperaments and teachings. They were the exponents of the two extremes in human character - the Baptist being the representative of fiery boldness, the Evangelist of shrinking love. The one was a sturdy Doric column, the other a graceful Corinthian pillar. The one was the complement of the other united together they combine strength and beauty. The Baptist was a truly heroic character. The last of all the prophets, he was the greatest of all. Of his life we get only a few glimpses, but these show us what sort of a man he was. The first picture is that of an ardent youth among the solitudes of Israel's deserts. Saddened by the hollowness of life in Israel, and perplexed with the controversies of Jerusalem - the wrangling of Sadducee with Pharisee, of formalist with mystic, of the disciples of one infallible Rabbi with the disciples of another infallible Rabbi, he fled for refuge to the wilderness, to see if God could he found by the earnest soul that sought Him alone. For thirty years he lived in the desert then came the time when the qualities nursed in solitude burst forth upon the world. The people felt that a King of Men stood before them.
The desert swarmed with crowds; warriors, profligates, publicans, the heart broken - the worldly, the disappointed - all came. Even the King's attention is gained he is taken away from the simple life of the desert and placed among the artificialities of the Royal City. And now comes the question, "Does the stern prophet degenerate into a sweet tongued courtier." Is the rough ashler of the forest broken into pieces in the process of polishing? Verily no. He stands in Herod's court, the prophet of the desert still, preaching boldly the truth. When Herod would ally himself with his guilty mistress, he at once said, "It is not lawful for thee to have her." Now is he struck down like an eagle in its flight. The last picture is that of this earnest, strong man cast into a dungeon by the guards of the King. There he wears out his restless soul, until sacrificed to a courtesan's whim. May his name ever remind us of courage in the hour of trial, and inspire us with fortitude to reprove sternly all departures from Masonic rule.
None have ever had more of the essential spirit of Masonry than St. John the Evangelist. He was the principle of love personified. Love was the secret of his religion, the burden of his teaching, the substance of his life, and the promise of his heaven. Whether we behold him leaning on his Master's breast, or wandering as a teacher among the nations of the East, he was the living illustration of his constant theme. His, too, was a love not easily quenched he was persecuted, imprisoned, banished, tortured but his love survived his trials. His life was love. Hear him, when old and feeble, writing to his disciples, "He that loveth his brother abideth in the light he that hateth his brother walketh in darkness." Such was the man. May his name inspire us with his spirit, so that our labours in the Lodge below may prepare us for the rest in the temple above. Brethren, the service in which we have this day engaged, and the symbols upon which we have gazed, must have brought vividly to mind the high antiquity of our Order. And this thought let us cherish it will add dignity and lustre to our pursuits. It is impossible not to feel the spell of long prescription in some degree.
The Jew cannot but feel proud that the blood which fired Abraham's bosom still runs in his veins the Greek, wandering among the beautiful groves of his native land, cannot but reflect with pleasure on the time when the fathers of philosophy assembled there their pupils, and the poet's song waked rapturous applause in the neighbouring theatres the modern denizen of Rome, when he sees the eager strangers throng its streets and spoil its temples, feels the emotion of pride as he reflects that the time was, when the queenly city, seated securely on her seven hills, gave laws to their barbarous forefathers the representative of Great Britain, gazing upon his country's flag in the land of the stranger, feels it all the dearer to his heart when he remembers that for a thousand years it has braved the battle and the breeze, and numbers up the many hard fought battles over which it has floated the worshipper in an ancient church has all the more attachment to it, when he considers that the walls of its cathedrals are now gray with years, and that for centuries has gone up to the Most High the same sacred song and if any cherish this feeling, surely may we, when we search the records of Masonry, and look back upon its existence even beyond the period of these records.
"The sources of the noblest rivers which spread fertility over continents, and bear richly laden vessels to the sea, are to be sought for in wild and barren tracts, incorrectly laid down in maps, and rarely explored by travellers."
Far back in the dim and hoary past, beyond the period of authentic history, lies the origin of Masonry. We do, indeed, catch glimpses of it as it rolls along near to the fountain head, yet when we first clearly behold it, it bursts upon our eyes as a broad, deep river, well defined and beautiful. There can be little doubt that long before the Christian era, the mountains of Judea, the plains of Syria, the deserts of India, and the valley of the Nile were cheered by its presence and fertilized by its current. Nearly three thousand years ago there were in Asia the Dionysian architects, a great corporation who undertook and even monopolized the building of temples, stadiums and theatres, recognized each other by signs and tokens, were possessed of certain esoteric doctrines, and called all other men profane who were not admitted to these mysteries.
Of these were the cunning workmen sent by Hiram, King of Tyre, to aid in the erection of the temple, 1000 years before the Christian era. Here it is that Masonry first meets us in strength and beauty. In the construction of this magnificent edifice, 113,000 men were engaged under 300 overseers, and its building occupied seven years. And surely that day when the first temple was completed, must rise vividly before the minds of us assembled within the last consecrated. It was a great and joyous day in Jerusalem. Wearily had they waited whilst it gradually rose up towards the skies, and now the capstone was brought forth with shoutings. The multitude of the people thronged the courts and stretched away down the streets to the very walls of the city. Attracting every eye, crowning the summit of Mount Moriah stood the temple with its lofty columns, and beauteous towers and guilded roof sparkling in the pure sunlight of heaven - the chosen dwelling place of Jehovah - the joy of the whole earth, and the visible symbol of that other not made with hands. Within it were placed the brazen altar, and the golden altar, and the other vessels that had been in the tabernacle.
In the Holy of Holies placed they the mercy seat and the ark, and within that the moral law written on the tables of stone and delivered long before to Moses amid the thunderings of Sinai. Then, as it has been said, "did Masonry go forth bearing upon her brow the name of Jehovah, in her bosom a jewel of living radiance, and in her hand the key that unlocked the gates of immortality. For more than 2000 years has she been telling man of a Being brighter than the stars, and endless as eternity." Before the victorious son of Philip marched his phalanxes, or ever Romulus walked by Tiber's stream, had she been telling man how to live and how to die. Oh! surely it is something to boast of, that her language has rolled from so many tongues - that her altar fires have been kindled for so many centuries - that her beneficent works have been performed by so many hands.
To remove her landmarks and her handmarks, the ancient buildings and the cathedrals, those chefs d'oeuvres of the middle age must be razed to the ground even to the last stone for everywhere in the floor, the pavements, the columns, the mouldings, and the roofs, the masons, the sculptors, and the architects have left their marks. Thus high and honourable is the prescription in her favor. Old she is, but there appear not yet the signs of senility. Mighty her works in the past, but there gather not the manifestations of weakness or weariness. Time has written no wrinkle on her spotless brow. In the virtues of her children she ever renews her youth. In her purification from profane appendages, she ever strengthens her stakes. In the distribution of the civilized races she ever lengthens her cords. Her lessons and her precepts - those grand moral flora of the universe - are of perennial growth. As they bloomed in Palestine, they bloom in this, the farthest west. As they were with Solomon and our fathers, so are they with us and as with us, so shall they be with our children's children.
