Veterans Day 2025 Thank You and Honoring All Who Served

Poster by the U.S. Veterans Administration

 

Tolerance Tuesday-Listening as a Masonic Discipline

In a world brimming with noise, the act of listening-truly listening-is a radical form of tolerance. Within Freemasonry, listening is more than courtesy. It is a discipline, a moral posture, and a sacred duty.

We are taught to meet on the level, act by the plumb, and part upon the square. But how often do we pause to hear, not just the words spoken, but the silences between them? How often do we listen with the intent to understand, rather than to reply?

 The Symbolic Silence

In Masonic ritual, silence is not emptiness...it is preparation. The candidate enters the Lodge in silence, blindfolded, guided by trust. Before he speaks, he listens. Before he is given light, he receives instruction. This symbolic silence teaches humility, receptivity, and the power of presence.

Listening is the first gesture of brotherhood. It is how we honor the dignity of another’s experience, even when it differs from our own.

 Listening as Labor

To listen well is to labor. It requires:

• Patience: Letting others finish their thoughts without interruption.

• Empathy: Hearing not just the words, but the emotions beneath them.

• Restraint: Holding back judgment, allowing space for truth to unfold.

• Curiosity: Asking questions that invite deeper understanding.

These are not passive traits...they are active disciplines. They mirror the working tools of the Mason: the square of fairness, the level of equality, the compasses of self-restraint.

 Listening Builds the Temple

When we listen, we build. We lay stones of trust, mortar of understanding, and arches of shared meaning. Listening is how we construct the invisible temple of fraternity, one conversation at a time.

In a divided world, listening is an act of repair. It is how we bridge generations, cultures, and creeds. It is how we embody the Masonic ideal: that truth, when spoken and heard in love, can unite what ignorance has divided.

 Reflection and Action

This week, consider:

• Who in your life needs to be heard—not advised, not corrected, but simply heard?

• What assumptions do you carry that silence another’s truth?

• How might your Lodge practice listening—not just in ritual, but in fellowship?

Let us be builders of understanding. Let us listen not just with ears, but with hearts attuned to the sacred dignity of every voice.

See You Next Tuesday.

The Lodge of Eternal Light A Halloween Meditation on Masonic Transformation

 The Lodge of Eternal Light A Halloween Meditation on Masonic Transformation

The veil thins. The boundary between the profane and the illuminated fades. The world above noisy, distracted, unknowing dissolves into mist. And the world within begins to stir.

Tonight, we gather not only in Lodge, but at the threshold of mystery. For there is a Lodge ancient, hidden, and not quite of this world, that meets only once a year, when the moon is high and the dead are restless.

They call it the Lodge of Eternal Light.

Its members do not age. Their names are etched in no registry. Their aprons are bone-white, their jewels cold to the touch. They do not knock…they appear. And when they speak, the room grows colder.

Some say the Lodge is home to Masonic vampires…not creatures of blood, but of ignorance. They do not thirst for life. They thirst for darkness. And they feed not with fangs, but with Light.

They do not thirst for blood…they hunger for ignorance. Their feast is fear, their wine superstition, their bread the prejudice we leave unexamined. They drain the darkness from the world, one degree at a time.

This is no feeding frenzy; it is a ritual of transformation. Each indulgence in falsehood becomes a step toward truth. Each sip of shadow makes room for more Light. They do not devour profane, they refine it.

The Tyler stands guard with a blade of silver and ash. The Junior Deacon carries a lantern that burns with no flame. And the Worshipful Master—Brother Lucien—has not blinked in three hundred years. His gaze pierces veils, his voice echoes like footsteps in a tomb.

But fear not. These are not monsters, but initiators. Their hunger is not for blood, but for the dark corners of our soul we refuse to recognize or name.

Their motto? Lux Aeterna Fraternitatis “The Eternal Light of Brotherhood.”

The Descent

Each candidate must descend into a crypt beneath the Lodge.

The floor opens beneath the altar, revealing a narrow stone stairwell.

The air grows colder.

The scent of ancient dust and forgotten incense rises.

The descent begins.

This is no mere passage underground—it is a journey inward.

Each step echoes like a heartbeat in a tomb.

The stone is damp. Cold seeps through the soles.

The walls are lined with carvings, not of saints or angels, but of symbols: the Square, the Compasses, the All-Seeing Eye… and others, older, stranger.

Symbols that seem to shift when not directly looked at.

He descends.

The silence deepens.

He descends.

The symbols begin to shimmer.

He descends.

At the bottom, the candidate enters a chamber lit only by three candles, each placed before a hooded figure seated in silence.

Their aprons are tattered. Their jewels tarnished.

They do not speak. They do not move.

But the room hums with a presence-like the air itself is listening.

Then, the whispers begin.

Not from the hooded figures, but from within.

The candidate hears his own voice, fractured, multiplied, echoing off the stone…as if the chamber itself is speaking with his tongue.

Four words emerge, each heavier than the last:

Pride. Envy. Deceit. Contempt.

Each vice is a distortion of a Masonic virtue: Pride twists humility, Envy poisons brotherly love, Deceit mocks truth, and Contempt defiles relief.

Each word causes a candle to flare, revealing a glimpse of the figure’s face, his own, distorted by fear, regret, and recognition.

The chamber does not accuse. It reflects.

This is not punishment. It is revelation.

This is the confrontation—not with monsters, but with the self.

Only by naming the shadows can he pass. Only by confronting the parts of himself that lurk beneath the surface—those that wear the apron but not the virtue—can he ascend again into Light.

And when he does, it is not escape…it is rebirth.

The Ascent

When the final vice is named, the chamber shifts. The figures vanish. The candles extinguish. And from the darkness, a single beam of light pierces the gloom, illuminating a stone door engraved with the words:

“Lux Aeterna Fraternitatis.” Meaning Eternal Light of Brotherhood

The silence after the final whisper is not empty, it is sacred.

The candidate stands in darkness, no longer afraid. The chamber has not judged him. It revealed him. And in that revelation, something shifts…not in the room, but in the soul.

He steps forward, not as one who has conquered, but as one who has understood.

He rises not as one who has shed vice, but as one who now seeks virtue: humility over pride, love over envy, truth over deceit, and relief over contempt.

The ascent is not a climb; it is a rising within. Each step upward is lighter, not because the burden is gone, but because it has been acknowledged.

When he emerges into the Lodge, the brethren do not speak. They simply nod. They know. They have descended too.

 

The Altered Tools

The working tools are familiar, but… altered.

The Square is no longer just a guide for morality; it is a relic. Crafted from obsidian and etched with symbols not found on any tracing board, it hums faintly when held. Some say it once belonged to a builder who measured not stone, but time. Its angles do not merely test the work—they test the soul. When placed upon the altar, it casts no shadow.

The Compasses are forged from moonlight and iron. Their arc is impossibly smooth, and their points never dull. They do not draw circles, they reveal boundaries. Boundaries between fear and courage, ignorance and wisdom, life and something beyond.

The Volume of Sacred Law glows faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. Its pages turn without touch, and its words seem to shift depending on who reads them. It is not open… it opens you.

They are not merely symbols; they are echoes of the journey. Each one reflects what the candidate has faced, and what he must now embody.

These tools are not used. They are experienced. They do not instruct…they transform.

And the lectures? They speak not only of virtue and geometry, but of eternity. Of the immortality of the soul. Of the duty to shine even when the world grows dim.

The Warning and the Blessing

Brethren, this Lodge is not a place, it is a warning. A reminder that our Craft is not merely about ritual, it is about transformation. We are all, in some sense, initiates of the Eternal Light. We battle ignorance with knowledge. We confront fear with fraternity. We rise from the symbolic grave of the profane world into the radiant life of the initiated.

So let the wind howl. Let the shadows dance. You have descended. You have risen. You carry the Light.

And remember:

The true vampire is not the one who hides in darkness, but the one who refuses to seek the Light. And the true Mason is not the one who fears the dark, but the one who illuminates it.

May your Light never dim… And may your shadows never whisper back.

 

Happy Halloween

 

Tolerance Tuesday-Historical Echoes — Tolerance in Masonic Tradition

 

Long before tolerance became a buzzword, it was a cornerstone of Masonic identity.

In the 18th century, when sectarianism and political strife divided nations, Freemasonry dared to unite men across religious and ideological lines. Catholic and Protestant. Monarchist and republican. Merchant and artisan. Within the Lodge, they met not as rivals, but as Brothers.

This was radical. This was revolutionary. And it was deliberate.

Masonic tradition has always emphasized the dignity of difference. The Volume of Sacred Law on the altar may vary from Lodge to Lodge, but its presence always affirms a shared reverence for truth. The square and compass remind us to measure our actions and circumscribe our passions, especially when confronted with views that challenge our own.

Tolerance in Masonry isn’t passive. It’s principled.

It means choosing respect over reaction. Curiosity over condemnation. Dialogue over division.

The historical echoes are clear: From Enlightenment thinkers who found refuge in the Lodge, to civil rights leaders who drew strength from its teachings, Freemasonry has offered a framework for moral courage and mutual respect.

Even the ritual itself is a lesson in tolerance. We are taught to subdue our passions. To whisper wise counsel. To seek light; not to impose it.

In a world that often rewards certainty and punishes nuance, Masonic tradition reminds us that true strength lies in restraint. That Brotherhood is forged not in sameness, but in shared striving.

This week’s reflection: Consider the historical roots of your own tolerance. What traditions shaped your values? What rituals remind you to lead with grace?

Let the echoes of the past guide your steps today. Let your tolerance be not just modern...but timeless.

See you next Tuesday.

Tolerance Tuesday-The Lodge as a Laboratory of Tolerance

 

Step into a Lodge, and you step into a space unlike any other.

Here, men of different backgrounds, beliefs, and temperaments gather not to debate, but to build. Not to win arguments, but to seek wisdom. Not to dominate, but to grow.

The Lodge is more than a meeting place. It is a laboratory of tolerance.

Every ritual, every symbol, every protocol is designed to cultivate respect. We rise when others speak. We listen without interruption. We address one another as Brother, not out of habit, but out of principle.

This isn’t just tradition. It’s training.

In a world that rewards outrage and punishes nuance, the Lodge teaches us to slow down. To reflect. To engage with dignity. It’s where we learn the discipline of disagreement, the ability to hold firm to our values while honoring the humanity of those who differ.

The checkered floor beneath our feet reminds us: life is a balance of light and dark, joy and sorrow, certainty and doubt. And tolerance is what allows us to walk that floor together.

We don’t always agree. We’re not meant to. But we are meant to listen. To learn. To lead with compassion.

In this way, the Lodge becomes a rehearsal space for the world outside. What we practice within its walls, patience, humility, restraint, we carry into our homes, our workplaces, our communities.

And that is the true work of Freemasonry: Not just to build better men, but to build a better world.

This week’s challenge: Bring the Lodge’s decorum into your daily life. Rise when others speak. Listen with intention. Respond with grace.

Let your conduct reflect the Craft. Let your presence be a reminder that tolerance is not just a virtue—it’s a practice.

See you next Tuesday.

Tolerance Tuesday-The Quiet Strength of Tolerance

 

In a world that often mistakes volume for virtue and outrage for righteousness, Freemasonry reminds us of a quieter strength...tolerance.

Not the kind that shrugs or retreats. Not the kind that avoids discomfort. But the kind that listens, endures, and chooses respect even when disagreement runs deep. Tolerance, in the Masonic sense, is not weakness. It is moral courage in restraint.

We see it in the compasses, those elegant tools that teach us to draw boundaries with wisdom, not with anger. They remind us to circumscribe our passions, to temper our judgments, and to measure our conduct with grace. The compasses don’t erase difference. They help us live within it.

In Lodge, we sit beside Brothers of every background, belief, and temperament. We rise together, speak in turn, and listen with intention. This isn’t just ritual it’s practice. It’s training in the art of tolerance. And it’s one of the most radical things we do.

Because tolerance is hard.

It asks us to hold space for ideas we don’t share. To honor people, we don’t fully understand. To resist the easy pull of tribalism and choose, instead, the harder path of unity. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t trend. But it builds something lasting.

A bridge. A bond. A Brotherhood.

So, as we begin this Tolerance Tuesday series, let’s start here: with the quiet strength that undergirds our Craft. Let’s reflect on the moments when tolerance changed a conversation, softened a heart, or preserved a friendship. Let’s remember that every time we choose patience over pride, we lay another stone in the temple of understanding.

This week’s challenge: Practice one act of quiet tolerance. Listen without interrupting. Pause before reacting. Extend grace where it’s not expected.

Because in that silence, in that restraint, in that deliberate kindness...there is strength. And it is the kind of strength the world needs more of.

See you next Tuesday.

“A Night at the Heritage Center: Gala Highlights and a New Dream”

 “Honoring 105 Years of Care and Unveiling a Vision for the Future”

On September 27th, the Masonic Heritage Center in Bloomington, MN welcomed guests to the 20th Annual Minnesota Masonic Charities Gala. A celebration not only of two decades of giving, but of a legacy 105 years in the making.

This year’s Gala focused on raising critical funds for the Minnesota Masonic Home, a place where compassion and dignity have guided care for generations. For over a century, the Home has been a sanctuary for residents and families, offering trusted care when comfort and connection matter most. 

But this year, the evening carried something more: a dream.

CEO John Schwitz shared a bold new vision, to build a dedicated space on campus where Brothers of the Craft and Sisters of the Eastern Star could live together in their twilight years, surrounded by fellowship and exceptional care. It’s a vision rooted in tradition, but reaching toward the future: a Masonic community where shared values become shared lives.

To explore this possibility, the Second Century Committee has been formed. Their charge? To seek out the best path forward, honoring the past while building something enduring for those yet to come.

The Gala was more than a fundraiser. It was a moment of renewal, a reminder that charity, like light, grows brighter when shared. And that the bonds of brotherhood and sisterhood don’t fade with time; they deepen.

Here’s to the next century of care, connection, and community.