On the Level in the Storm
Freemasonry’s Call to Balance in an Age of Outrage
I was invited to dinner by a friend at an elegant restaurant, the kind with soft lighting, linen tablecloths, and flowers arranged just so. He introduced me to six other guests I had never met, and soon the small talk began. It was pleasant enough until the woman seated directly across from me asked, without hesitation, “So, what are your political views?”
I smiled politely and told her that I do not discuss politics or religion in public. She demanded to know why. I explained that those subjects tend to inflame emotions. She shook her head and said that in today’s world you have to pick a side, that you cannot sit on the fence. Again she pressed me for my political views.
I glanced at my host, hoping for a little refuge, and quietly considered the nearest exit. I repeated that my political and religious views are simply my opinions, nothing more. “Opinions are just words,” I said. “What matters to me are a person’s actions.”
She leaned forward and said, “So if we cannot talk about politics, what can we talk about?” I told her, “It is a big, beautiful world, and there is a lot in it worth talking about.”
She paused, then asked, “So what are your actions in this big world that make it better?” I answered honestly: “I try. I donate blood. I volunteer in a kitchen that prepares meals for the homeless and those in need.”
The first course arrived, and for a moment the table fell quiet. Then she looked up and asked, in a very different tone, “How important is donating blood?” And just like that, the evening shifted. The conversation became warm, thoughtful, and genuinely human, the kind of conversation that reminds you how much better we understand each other when we talk about what we do, not what we label ourselves to be.
II. The Larger Problem: When Disagreement Becomes Identity Warfare
What I experienced at that dinner table was not unique. It was a small example of something I see everywhere now: the way ordinary disagreement has turned into something far more personal. We have reached a point where political views are not treated as ideas anymore. They are treated as identities. And once politics becomes identity, every conversation becomes a test of loyalty.
It is no longer enough to have an opinion. You are expected to declare allegiance. People listen not to understand, but to sort you into categories. A single sentence, a hesitation, even a refusal to engage can trigger suspicion. Suddenly you are not Tom, or a neighbor, or a coworker. You are “one of them.”
This is what makes politics feel more dangerous today. Not the issues themselves, but the emotional charge behind them. The speed with which people assume the worst. The way a simple question can turn into judgment. The way we stop seeing each other as human beings and start seeing each other as symbols of whatever we fear or oppose.
And once that happens, real conversation becomes almost impossible.
III. The Emotional Fuel: How Modern News Shapes Our Reactions
Part of the reason our conversations feel so volatile today is the way information reaches us. News used to focus on the basics: who, what, when, where, how, and why. Facts were presented plainly, and people were trusted to form their own opinions.
For me, there was a time when I could sit with any newspaper or magazine, pencil in hand, and underline the simple facts of a story: the who, what, when, where, and how. It was almost a ritual. The facts were right there on the page, clean and clear, and the rest was left to the reader’s judgment. But over the years, I noticed that it became harder to find those facts without wading through layers of interpretation, emotion, and implied conclusions. The reporting had not disappeared, but it was wrapped in so much commentary that separating the event from the reaction felt like an exercise in archaeology.
Much of what we see now is not just reporting. It is interpretation. It is framed to provoke a reaction, to keep us watching, clicking, and sharing. Outrage travels faster than understanding, and fear holds attention longer than calm explanation. When every headline feels like a crisis, people begin to live as if every conversation is a battlefield.
This constant emotional framing does not stay on the screen. It spills into our daily lives. It trains us to respond quickly, to assume the worst, to sort people into “us” and “them” before they have even finished a sentence. It creates a world where a simple question at a dinner table can feel like a demand for allegiance.
And when the world around us is always inflamed, it becomes harder, and more important, to keep our own passions in check.
IV. The Masonic Ideal: Subduing Passions in a World That Inflames Them
Freemasonry teaches a man to subdue his passions, not to extinguish them, but to govern them with reason, patience, and respect. It also teaches him to live within the point within the circle, to keep his conduct within the bounds of propriety, humility, and self restraint. Inside the lodge, we avoid political and religious debate not because those subjects are unimportant, but because they are powerful. They can divide good men if handled carelessly. The lodge protects harmony by reminding us that before we are anything else, we are brothers.
But the moment we step outside those doors, we enter a world that does the opposite. A world that encourages outrage, rewards quick judgment, and treats calmness as weakness. A world where people are expected to react instantly and passionately to every headline, every comment, every disagreement. In that environment, the Masonic ideal of subduing passions, of living within that symbolic circle, becomes not just a virtue, but a daily discipline. The world pushes us toward division; the Craft calls us back to balance and to be on the level.
V. The Mason’s Challenge: Living the Craft Outside the Lodge
It is one thing to speak about subduing passions inside the lodge, where harmony is protected and every man is reminded of his obligations. It is another thing entirely to practice that same discipline in the world outside, where emotions run high and patience runs thin. A Mason is still human. He still feels frustration, disappointment, and the pull of anger. The difference is that he is taught to pause before those feelings become actions.
The real work of Masonry does not happen during ritual. It happens in the moments when someone tries to provoke you, when a conversation turns sharp, when a headline stirs fear, or when a stranger demands to know which side you are on. Those are the moments when a Mason must decide whether he will react like everyone else, or whether he will live within the point within the circle, steady, measured, and respectful.
This is not easy. The world rewards outrage. It celebrates quick retorts and punishes hesitation. But a Mason is called to something quieter and more difficult: to see the person before the opinion, to listen without assuming, and to respond without striking back. The hardest place to be a Mason is not in the lodge. It is everywhere else.
VI. Practical Reflections: How a Mason Navigates a Charged Society
Living as a Mason in today’s world does not mean withdrawing from it. It means moving through it with intention, like walking across the checkered pavement, aware of every step, mindful of the balance between light and dark that life presents. The world around us may reward outrage, but a Mason is taught to reward understanding. The world may push us to react instantly, but a Mason learns to pause. The world may insist that we choose sides, but a Mason remembers that every person he meets is more than the label someone else has placed on them.
Sometimes the most powerful thing a Mason can do is simply take a breath before speaking, to wait briefly in patience. That small pause can prevent a sharp reply, soften a tense moment, or open a door to a better conversation. Asking a sincere question instead of making an assumption can turn confrontation into curiosity. Choosing to listen, really listen, can remind someone that they are more than their opinions.
And perhaps most importantly, a Mason remembers that actions speak louder than arguments. A calm presence in a heated moment. A respectful tone when others are losing theirs. A willingness to help without asking who someone voted for. These small, steady acts do more to improve the world than any debate ever could.
This is the quiet work of the Craft: not to win arguments, but to build understanding; not to inflame passions, but to steady them; not to divide, but to remind others, by example, that we are still human to one another.
VII. Closing Reflection: Choosing Humanity in a Divided World
When I think back to that dinner table, I do not remember the food or the conversation that followed. I remember the moment when a simple question became a test of loyalty, and how quickly suspicion filled the space where curiosity should have been. That moment stays with me because it reminds me how fragile our conversations have become, and how important it is to meet the world with patience instead of passion.
Freemasonry does not promise to change the world. It asks each of us to change ourselves, one decision at a time. To pause before reacting. To listen before judging. To see the person before the opinion. To walk across the checkered pavement with intention, knowing that life will always contain both light and dark, harmony and conflict, agreement and disagreement.
We cannot control the tone of the news or the temperature of society. But we can control the space we create around us, the space where calmness can breathe, where respect can grow, where understanding can take root. In a world that demands we choose sides, a Mason chooses humanity. Not loudly, not dramatically, but steadily, one conversation at a time.
And perhaps that is how we keep our sanity and our grace in a divided world: by remembering that every moment gives us a choice, to inflame or to steady, to divide or to understand, to react or to reflect. The world may push us toward anger, but the Craft calls us back to balance. And in answering that call, quietly and consistently, we do our small part to make the world a little more bearable for everyone.
