Lodge Burroughs Strange No. 87
Vijayawada, India

Nothing in Freemasonry is more beautiful in form or more eloquent in meaning than the First Degree. Its simplicity and dignity, its blend of solemnity and surprise, as well as its beauty of moral truth, mark it as a little masterpiece. Nowhere may one hope to find a nobler appeal to the native nobilities of man, What we get out of Freemasonry, depends upon our capacity, and our response to its appeal; but it is hard to see how any man can receive the First Degree and pass out of the Lodge room quite the same man as when he entered it.

Pleasant memories come back to us when we think of the time when we took our first step in Freemasonry. We had been led, perhaps, by the sly remarks of friends to expect some kind of horseplay; but how different it was in reality. We discovered by contrast, a ritual of religious faith and moral law, an allegory of life and a parable of those truths which lie at the foundations of manhood. Surely no man can ever forget that hour when, vaguely or clearly, the profound meaning of Freemasonry began slowly to unfold before his mind.

The whole meaning of initiation, of course, is an analogy of the birth, awakening and growth of the soul; its discovery of the purpose of life and the nature of the world in which it is to be lived. The Lodge is the world as it was thought to be in the olden time, with its square surface and canopy of sky, its dark North and its radiant East; its centre an Altar of obligation and prayer. The initiation, by the same token is our advent from the darkness of prenatal gloom into the light of moral truth and spiritual faith, out of lonely isolation into a network of fellowships and relationships, out of a merely physical into a human and moral order. The cable tow, by which we may be detained or removed should we be unworthy or unwilling to advance, is like the cord which joins a child to its mother at birth. Nor is it removed until, by the act of assuming the obligations and fellowships of the moral life, a new, unseen tie is spun and woven in the heart, uniting us, henceforth, by an invisible and, to the service of our race in its moral effort to build a world of fraternal goodwill.

Such is the system or moral philosophy set forth in symbols to which the initiate is introduced, and in this light each emblem, each incident, should be interpreted. No man may hope to see it all at once, or once for all, and it is open to question whether any man lives long enough to think it through - for, like all simple things, it is deep and wonderful.

Like every other incident of initiation, it is in the light of the larger meanings of Freemasonry that we must interpret the Rite of Destitution. During the charge in the N.E. corner, every candidate is asked to give whatever possible in the name of charity. If he is "duly and truly prepared" he finds himself unable to grant the request. Then, in one swift and searching moment, he realized-- perhaps for the first time in his life-- what it means for a man to be actually destitute. For one impressive instant, in which many emotions mingle, he is made to feel the bewilderment, if not the humiliation, which besets one who is deprived of the physical necessities of life upon which, far more than we have been wont to admit, both the moral and social order depend. Then, by a surprise as sudden as before, and in a manner never to be forgotten, the lesson of the Golden Rule is taught the duty of man to his fellow in dire need. It is not left to the imagination, since the initiate is actually put into the place of the man who asks his aid, making his duty more real and vivid.

A temple any place of worship, opens its doors to all kinds of and conditions of folk, rich and poor alike, the learned and the unlearned. But a Lodge of Masons is different, event though alike in purpose and function. It is made up of picked men, selected from among many and united for unique ends. No man ought to be allowed to enter the Order unless he is equal to its demands, financially as well as mentally and morally, able to pay its fees and dues, and to do his part in its work of relief. Yet no set of men, however intelligent and strong, are exempt from the vicissitudes and tragedies of life.

Disasters of the most appalling kind befall men everyday, leaving them broken and helpless. How often have we seen a noble and able man suddenly smitten down in mid life, stripped not only of his savings but of his power to earn, as the result of some blow no mortal wit could avert. There he lies, shunted out of active life when most needed and most able and willing to serve. Life may any day turn Ruffian and strike one of us such a blow, disaster following fast and following faster, until we are at its mercy. It is to such experiences that the Rite of DESTITUTION has reference, pledging us to aid as individuals and as Lodges; and we have a right to be proud that our Craft does not fail in the doing of good. It is rich in benevolence, and it knows how to hide its labors under the cover of secrecy, using its privacy to shield itself and those whom it aids.

Yet we are very apt, especially in large Lodges, or in the crowded solitude of great cities, to lose the personal touch, and let our charity fall to the level of a cold, distant almsgiving. When this is so, charity becomes a mere perfunctory obligation, and Lodges have been known to contribute Rs. 50/- for Charity and spend hundreds of rupees for personal entertainment. There is an old parable in which a poor man asked aid of another as poor as himself. "Brother, I have no money to give you but my hand was the reply. "Yes, give me your hand; for that, also, is a gift more needed than all others said the first; and the two forlorn men clasper hands in a common need and pathos. There was more real charity in that scene than in many a munificent donation made from a sense duty or pride.

Indeed, we have so long linked charity with the giving of money that the word has well nigh lost its real meaning. There are hungets which gold cannot satisfy, and blinding before eavements from which it offers no shelter, There are times when a hand laid upon the shoulder, "in a friendly sort of way," is worth more than all the money on earth. Many a young man fails, or makes a bad mistake, for lack of brotherly hand which might have held him up or guided him into a wiser way.

THE RITE OF DESTITUTION : Yes, Indeed but a man may have all the money he needs and yet be destitute of faith, of hope, of courage; and it is our duty to share our faith and courage with him. To fulfil the obligation of this Rite we must give not simply our money but ourselves.