June: THE ROUGH ASHLAR

 

SECTION I, A Brother and His Rough Ashlar

I was visiting a Lodge on the East Coast when I met a Brother who carried himself with a quiet, thoughtful confidence. We fell into a conversation about introspection, that familiar saying, “Know Thyself,” and he told me he had taken that instruction very seriously. He said he had been working with the Rough Ashlar in a very personal way, using it to confront and correct some of the issues in his life. He spoke about it with a kind of excitement, the way a man speaks when he has finally found a tool that works.

Before we parted that evening, he invited me to his home to see what he meant.

The next day I drove out to his place. It was beautiful, the kind of home that showed he had worked hard and done well for himself. He led me through the house and out into the garage, where a sturdy workbench sat beneath bright lights. On the table were various hand tools, and beside them lay a very rough, jagged piece of stone.

“That,” he said, resting his hand on it, “is how I was feeling inside. Solid, yes. Firm, yes. But rough. Uneven. Full of edges I needed to face.”

As I looked closer, I noticed he had painted small numbers on the lumps and bumps of the stone. Each number represented something he needed to address in his life. He pointed to one that stood for his smoking habit, which he was determined to break. Another marked the grief he still carried from his father’s death. A smaller bump represented loose ends from his divorce, things he needed to resolve so he could move forward.

He told me that he alone was responsible for improving his life, and that real improvement takes time, patience, and honest reflection. Growth, he said, is gradual and lifelong.

Then he picked up a hammer and chisel and smiled. “This,” he said, “is liberating. Mentally, because I am facing my issues. Physically, because I am shaping something real. When the chips fly, I feel like something inside me is breaking loose too.”

I stood there watching him work, and I realized I was witnessing the Rough Ashlar in its purest form. Not as a symbol on a lecture slide, but as a living practice in a Brother’s life.

SECTION II, The Meaning of the Rough Ashlar

In operative masonry, the Rough Ashlar is the stone in its natural state, taken straight from the quarry. It is solid and full of potential, but it is uneven, jagged, and unfit for the builder’s purpose until it has been shaped. The work of smoothing and refining it is slow, deliberate, and guided by skill, patience, and intention.

In speculative Masonry, the Rough Ashlar represents the human condition at the beginning of our journey. Each of us enters the world with strengths and flaws, talents and blind spots, virtues and rough edges. None of us begins as a Perfect Ashlar. We begin as we are, and the Craft asks us to acknowledge that honestly.

The Rough Ashlar teaches several essential truths:

• We are works in progress.

• We carry roughness within us.

• We are responsible for our own refinement.

• Growth requires effort.

• Transformation is gradual.

The Rough Ashlar is not a symbol of shame or inadequacy. It is a symbol of potential. It reminds us that imperfection is not failure, but the starting point of all meaningful work.

SECTION III, The Work of Shaping Ourselves

The Rough Ashlar teaches that every Mason begins with potential, but potential alone is not enough. A stone does not smooth itself. A life does not refine itself. The work of shaping character requires intention, effort, and the willingness to face the parts of ourselves we would rather ignore.

In the Lodge, we speak often about improvement, but the Rough Ashlar reminds us that improvement is not an idea. It is a practice.

Among the Brothers I used to spend time with, we had a running joke. Whenever one of us was wrestling with a habit, or trying to improve a part of our lives, or just having a rough week, someone would lean over and say with a grin, “So how’s your Ashlar coming along.” It always got a laugh, but it also carried a quiet truth. We were reminding each other, gently and without judgment, that every one of us is still being shaped.

The Rough Ashlar teaches us that:

• We must name our rough edges.

• We must face our weaknesses honestly.

• We must be willing to change.

• We must accept that growth is uneven.

• We must return to the work again and again.

The goal is not perfection. The goal is progress.

SECTION III A, The Door We Avoid

Every man carries a place inside himself that he would rather not open. A memory, a habit, a wound, a fear. Something that sits behind a door he keeps closed because he knows what lies behind it will demand courage, honesty, and emotional labor.

It is easy for others to say, “Just handle it,” but the truth is more complicated.

Some issues are not ready to be faced all at once. Some require strength we have not yet built. Some require time, support, or healing before we can even approach the door.

The Rough Ashlar teaches us that growth is gradual. A stone is not shaped in a single blow, and a life is not shaped in a single moment of bravery.

So how do we know when it is time:

• If the issue is harming us or others, it may be time.

• If it keeps returning in different forms, it may be time.

• If we feel a quiet readiness, even mixed with fear, it may be time.

• If we feel overwhelmed or unsafe, it may be wise to wait.

Some stones require gentle sanding. Some require a firm strike. Some require us to step back and return when we are ready.

The important thing is that we do not abandon the work.

A Reflective Pause

Before we move into June’s moment of honest self assessment, it helps to pause and listen to the voice of the Rough Ashlar itself. The part of us that is still becoming, still learning, still being shaped.

Rough Ashlar

by Tom

I stand as stone, unshaped, unsure, With edges cut by time and chance. Yet in my flaws, a promise lives, The will to grow, the choice to advance.

Each careful strike refines the form, Not to erase what once I was, But shape the self I strive to be, A truer stone, by earned design.

SECTION IV, The Mid Year Moment, June and the Rough Ashlar

June sits at the center of the year, a natural pause between what has been and what is still ahead. It is neither the beginning nor the end, but the place where a Mason stops long enough to take an honest look at his progress.

By June, the spark of those New Year’s resolutions has dimmed a bit. The tools we picked up with excitement now show signs of use. Some habits have improved. Others have resisted us. A few rough edges we thought we had smoothed may have reappeared.

This is the moment when the Rough Ashlar speaks most clearly.

It asks us to look inward and ask:

• What parts of myself still need shaping

• What habits have I allowed to return

• What rough edges have I ignored

• What progress have I made

• What work remains for the months ahead

This is not a moment for judgment. It is a moment for honesty.

June invites us to recommit to the work of shaping ourselves. Not because we are flawed, but because we are capable of becoming more.

SECTION V, Returning to the Stone

When I think back to that Brother on the East Coast, standing in his garage with a hammer in his hand and stone chips at his feet, I realize now that he was doing something many of us talk about but few of us practice with such honesty.

He was not just studying the Rough Ashlar. He was living it.

He had taken the symbol off the lecture platform and placed it on his workbench. He had given shape and weight to the parts of himself he wanted to improve. He had named his rough edges, numbered them, and faced them one at a time.

Every Mason has a stone like his, though most of ours are invisible.

Some edges we smooth easily. Others resist us. And some require time, strength, and readiness before we can face them.

But the important thing is that we keep returning to the stone.

As June arrives and the year reaches its midpoint, the Rough Ashlar invites each of us to pause and look inward. Not with judgment, but with honesty. Not with fear, but with hope. Not with the expectation of perfection, but with the quiet determination to keep improving.

The Brother I met that day taught me something I have carried ever since. The stone only changes when we pick up the tools.

And so, each of us must ask, not in jest this time, but with sincerity, How is my Ashlar coming along.

June Companion Checklist, The Rough Ashlar

These are practices I have found helpful in my own journey, small, steady ways to return to the stone with honesty and intention.

1. Name one rough edge you are ready to work on this month.

Choose something small, specific, and honest, one place where a little effort can make a real difference.

2. Identify one door you are not ready to open, and honor that.

Not every issue must be faced today. Respect your own readiness. Wisdom includes pacing.

3. Choose one steady action you can take in June.

A daily habit, a weekly practice, or a single intentional step. Small strikes shape the stone.

4. Reflect on one place where you have already smoothed the stone.

Acknowledge progress. Growth deserves recognition, not just correction.

5. Recommit to one tool you have set aside.

A practice, a discipline, a mindset, something you once used well and can pick up again.

6. Ask yourself with sincerity, How is my Ashlar coming along.

Not as a joke, not as pressure, but as an honest moment of self awareness.

These steps have helped me return to my own stone. Perhaps they will help you return to yours.

For another symbol that shapes our inner work, you might, you may enjoy my reflection on the Compass and Square.

This reflection is part of my twelve-part series Unlocking the Symbols of Freemasonry. You can explore the full journey here.

Red Wing Lodge-Serving the Community One Inning at a Time

On June 24, members of Red Wing Lodge #8 volunteered in support of a local community event by operating the concession stand at the Red Wing Athletic Field during a Red Wing Aces game.

A Red Wing Aces game is more than just baseball...it is a community gathering place. On a summer evening, the open-air ballpark brings together neighbors of all ages: parents, grandparents, and children chasing foul balls, along with young couples enjoying a date night. The game serves as a weekly social event that strengthens the bonds of the community.

There is something timeless about the experience: the fading summer sunlight, the smell of freshly cut grass and popcorn, a warm breeze, the crack of the bat, and a game that unfolds at a pace that allows for meaningful conversations with friends, family, and neighbors.

This ballpark is truly a volunteer-driven community event. The concession stand, ticket sales, scoreboard operation, and game announcing are all handled by volunteers. The fans know the players personally, and the players themselves are not professionals. They are members of the community who play for the love of the game; local business owners, tradespeople, educators, and high school and college athletes.

The Red Wing Aces Amateur Baseball Team competes in the Classic Cannon Valley League of the Minnesota Baseball Association. What we call “Town Ball” has a rich history in Minnesota dating back to 1857. Amateur baseball came to Red Wing in 1870, and as farming communities and small towns developed throughout southern and central Minnesota, residents formed teams to represent their hometowns. Ballparks were built, and baseball became both a source of community pride and a major local sporting event.

This tradition remains as much about community identity and local history as it is about the game itself. Minnesota is often called the “Town Ball Capital of America” because it is home to approximately 275 active teams. While many states have shifted almost entirely toward youth leagues and professional sports, Minnesota continues to preserve this unique community tradition.

Red Wing Lodge #8 was chartered in 1856, and its members have enjoyed Town Ball since its earliest days. Community involvement opportunities such as this offer many rewards for a Masonic lodge. There is no financial cost, which is important at a time when many lodges face increasing expenses related to maintenance, utilities, and taxes.

Volunteering at Town Ball games also helps the lodge become more visible within the community and build relationships with local residents. It provides opportunities to meet potential members and demonstrate the values of service and civic engagement. When people see Red Wing Lodge donating its time and effort to support another community organization, they are more likely to develop a positive impression of Freemasonry and the lodge itself.

Most importantly, the brothers had an opportunity to reconnect with an older rhythm of life: spending a summer evening together, making popcorn, serving hot dogs and beverages, catching up on one another’s lives, strengthening friendships, meeting new people, and seeing old friends...all while cheering on the hometown team.

Through simple acts of service, Red Wing Lodge #8 continues its long tradition of supporting the community it has called home for more than 170 years.

If you enjoyed this article you may wish to see: The Building Protecting Our Treasures. 

The Books in Randy’s Garage

 On Brotherhood, Self‑Help, and Becoming Better

One day I got a call from my buddy Randy asking me to come over and help him move some heavy items in his garage. When I arrived, I was reminded that Randy had one of those oversized garages that seemed capable of holding a lifetime's worth of possessions—and in his case, it practically did.

Randy greeted me with a grin and announced that his wife had finally "authorized" him to create a man cave in the back section of the garage. All we had to do was clear a path through decades of accumulated treasures.

As Randy moved things around, I stood near the workbench and took in my surroundings. Against one wall sat a wood stove.

"Randy, is that the wood stove you bought back in the eighties?" I asked. "The one I helped you move the day you bought it?"

"Yep," he replied. "I just haven't gotten around to installing it yet."

Nearby sat an avocado-green Naugahyde sofa.

"Isn't that your mom's old sofa from high school?"

"Sure is," he said proudly. "Still in great shape. It'll look perfect in my man cave."

As I surveyed the collection of memories and junk, my attention was drawn to a pink laundry basket sitting on the workbench. It was filled with books.

Now, Randy is a voracious reader. He can finish a book in a couple of evenings and takes excellent care of his collection. The books on his shelves inside the house are neatly organized and well maintained. These books, however, seemed strangely out of place.

I glanced at the titles.

I'm OK—You're OK.

Atomic Habits.

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.

Decluttering for Slobs.

How to Change Your Mind.

Every one of them was a self-help book.

"Randy," I asked, "what are all these books doing out here in the garage?"

He laughed and pointed at the basket.

"Those? My sister keeps giving them to me."

"Amy?" I asked.

"The psychologist?"

We both burst out laughing.

By the end of the afternoon, we had cleared enough space for Randy's man cave and created an impressive pile of items for disposal. As we stood admiring our work, I pointed toward the basket.

"Did you ever read any of those books?"

Randy shook his head.

"Tom, I'm sure they're all about ways to improve your life. I'm always trying to become a better man. Between my faith and Freemasonry, I've already got principles to guide me and brothers to support me. So I never got around to reading them."

I told him I hated seeing books thrown away and knew of a charity shop that would gladly take them.

"Great idea," he said. "Let me put them in your car."

As I drove home with the basket of books in the back seat, I found myself thinking about Randy's comment. He wasn't opposed to self-improvement. In fact, he had spent much of his life working to become a better man. He simply believed he already belonged to an organization that helped him pursue that goal.

That raised an interesting question.

What role does Freemasonry play in a man's journey of self-improvement, and how does it compare with the modern self-help movement?

Walk into any bookstore and you'll find entire sections devoted to personal development. Titles promise greater productivity, stronger relationships, financial success, better habits, and a more meaningful life. Millions of people purchase these books every year because they share a common desire: they want to grow. They want to improve their character, strengthen their discipline, discover lifes purpose, and live more fulfilling lives.

The popularity of self-help literature reveals something important about human nature. Most people recognize that they are unfinished works. They understand there is always room for improvement.

Freemasonry begins with a similar assumption.

For centuries, Freemasonry has encouraged men to examine themselves honestly, identify areas where they can improve, and strive to live according to higher principles. Its purpose has never been to create perfect men. Rather, it seeks to inspire good men to become better.

Many of the themes found in today's bestselling self-help books would be familiar to any thoughtful Mason.

Books such as Atomic Habits emphasize the power of small, consistent actions to shape a person's future. Freemasonry likewise teaches that character is developed gradually through daily effort rather than dramatic transformation.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People encourages readers to align their actions with their values. Freemasonry similarly asks its members to reflect upon their conduct and live according to moral principles.

Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning argues that people flourish when they discover purpose beyond themselves. Freemasonry encourages men to consider their duties to God, their families, their communities, and future generations.

Other popular books explore self-discipline, leadership, service, responsibility, and personal accountability, all themes that have long occupied a central place in Masonic teachings.

The similarities are significant. Yet Freemasonry offers something many self-help books cannot.

Community.

A self-help book can provide information. It can inspire reflection. It can offer practical advice. What it cannot provide is fellowship.

Freemasonry surrounds a man with brothers who share similar aspirations. He learns from mentors who have reflected on the same lessons for years. He participates in discussions that challenge his thinking and encourage his growth. Most importantly, he is not pursuing self-improvement alone.

Perhaps one reason men continue to seek out Freemasonry is that they are searching for companions on the journey of self-improvement. Becoming a better man is difficult when attempted alone. It is easier when surrounded by others who share similar values and aspirations. Within a lodge, a man finds brothers who encourage him when he struggles, challenge him when he becomes complacent, and celebrate his successes without jealousy or competition. The attraction of Freemasonry is not that it promises perfection, but that it offers fellowship among men who are sincerely trying to become the best versions of themselves.

This may be one reason Freemasonry has endured for centuries.

The principles themselves are not unique. Wisdom concerning discipline, integrity, purpose, and service can be found in many books. What makes Freemasonry distinctive is the manner in which those lessons are taught and reinforced. Through ritual, symbolism, mentorship, and fellowship, Masonic principles become more than ideas to be admired. They become ideals to be practiced.

At the same time, Freemasonry does not eliminate the value of self-help literature. In fact, the two can complement one another quite effectively.

Freemasonry may help a man identify areas where growth is needed. A self-help book may then provide practical tools for addressing those challenges. If a Mason wishes to improve his leadership skills, communication abilities, habits, or emotional intelligence, there are countless excellent resources available to assist him.

Perhaps the simplest way to describe the relationship is this: Freemasonry points toward the destination, while self-help books may help chart the route.

Both seek improvement. Both encourage reflection. Both challenge individuals to become better versions of themselves.

As I think back to that afternoon in Randy's garage, I still smile at the image of that pink laundry basket filled with self-help books. Randy was not rejecting personal growth. Quite the opposite. He had simply found a path that worked for him.

The books may have found a new home, but the desire they represented remains universal. Whether through books, mentors, faith, life experience, or the teachings of Freemasonry, men continue to pursue the same timeless goal: the lifelong task of becoming better than they were yesterday.

And yes...I did grab a couple of those books.

The Keeper of the Treasure Chest: A Conversation with Julia Wells

 

There is a quiet hum to the Grand Lodge of Iowa Library and Museum. It is the kind of stillness that only exists in places built to hold memory. Shelves of bound periodicals, cabinets of artifacts, and the soft rustle of archival boxes create an atmosphere that feels both scholarly and sacred. At the center of this world is Julia Wells, the Assistant Librarian and Curator, whose work ensures that the history of Iowa Masonry is not only preserved but understood.

Julia’s path to this role began long before she ever stepped into the building. “I have always had an interest in history,” she told me, “and wanted to preserve and teach it to others.” Her background leans more toward museums and archives than traditional library science, but that blend of skills is exactly what a Masonic library requires. She holds a BA in History and an MA in Public History with a focus on Historical Administration, both from the University of North Alabama. Public History includes everything from the National Park Service to museums and archival institutions. She also serves on professional boards, including the Masonic Library and Museum Association and the Iowa Conservation and Preservation Consortium, which connects her work to a broader network of preservation professionals.

Her arrival at the Grand Lodge of Iowa was almost serendipitous. “I heard through the Masonic grapevine that there was a position opening,” she said with a smile. She had already considered working within the Masonic family after graduate school, so when the opportunity appeared, she applied, interviewed, and joined the staff in October of 2022. It was her first real taste of library science, and she took to it immediately.

One of the most striking things about the library is the diversity of people who walk through its doors. “Many of our researchers are members of the Craft,” Julia explained, “but we also have members of the public come in to use various other collections we house in the library stacks.” Some come seeking genealogical threads. Others are scholars tracing the development of fraternal organizations. Still others are new Masons working through the Grand Lodge’s recommended reading list.

Lately, research has centered heavily on the Prince Hall Masonic materials donated by Joseph A. Walkes. This collection has become a significant resource for those studying African American Masonic history. Others dive into the library’s extensive bound periodicals, a treasure trove of Masonic thought stretching back generations.

But preserving these materials is not without its challenges. “The biggest challenge we face currently is fighting against the damage to the piece before it came into our care,” Julia said. Most people do not know best practices for storing documents, books, or textiles, nor should they be expected to. By the time an item reaches the library, it may already have endured decades of poor storage, humidity, or handling. “We are often fighting against time that has already passed,” she said, “to ensure the object is in the safest care possible.”

Digitization is happening, but deliberately. “We are scanning as researchers ask for passages in larger works,” she explained. For now, her focus is on the museum side of the institution, the part of the work where her training is deepest.

When I asked what visitors tend to enjoy most, her answer revealed something important about the dual identity of the library and museum. Freemasons gravitate toward the temporary exhibits on appendant bodies or displays highlighting the fraternity’s contributions to the community. Members of the public are often drawn to the artifacts brought back from Masonic travels, objects that carry the romance of distance and the curiosity of the unfamiliar.

What becomes clear in talking with Julia is that the Library and Museum is far more than a collection of books and artifacts. It is a living institution shaped by the people who care for it. Sitting with Julia felt like meeting the quiet heartbeat behind everything I had just seen. The architecture may impress, but it is people like her who give the Library and Museum its soul. Listening to her talk about the work, the challenges, the small victories, and the care she gives to every fragile page and artifact reminded me that our history survives because someone chooses to love it enough to protect it. Ending this series with her story feels right. It brings the whole journey back to the human level, where Craft has always lived: in the hands of dedicated people who believe our past is worth preserving for those who will come after us.

If you enjoyed this article,I recommend you read: 

"The Building That Protects Our Treasures"

 

Cataract Lodge Supports Literacy Through Bikes for Books

 

Cataract Lodge #2 has proudly supported Bancroft Public School for many years in a variety of ways, including a reading incentive program known as Bikes for Books. This program is designed for fifth-grade students to encourage reading and help them discover the enjoyment and value of books.

The program is effective for several reasons. For young readers, it provides a powerful motivation: by reading more books, they can earn the chance to win a new bicycle. Throughout the year, teachers guide students in selecting books that are appropriate for their age and reading level. Educators have reported increased enthusiasm and motivation for reading, particularly among students who previously showed little interest.

Bikes for Books is a simple idea with lasting impact. It represents a partnership between Cataract Lodge and Bancroft School to encourage literacy, rewards effort, and strengthen community connections, and the power of reading. All through the promise of a bicycle and the transformative power of reading.

This year, the Brothers of Cataract Lodge purchased and assembled 47 bicycles and 25 scooters, which will be presented to the winning students during a fifth-grade assembly.

The Building That Protects Our Treasures

 This is the story of the marble building in Cedar Rapids that was carefully designed to protect the treasures of our Masonic past.

A Treasure Box for Our History

The Iowa Masonic Library and Museum in Cedar Rapids has always felt to me like a treasure box built to protect the story of our Craft. From the outside, the marble and solid lines give the building a sense of strength and purpose. Inside, that feeling only grows. Every hallway, every reading room, and every carefully protected shelf reflects the Grand Lodge of Iowa’s commitment to preserving what matters. When it was built in the 1950s, the goal was simple: create a safe and lasting home for the books, records, and artifacts that carry our history. Not jewels or gold, but the treasures of knowledge and memory. More than seventy years later, the building still does exactly that. It stands as a place where our past is kept safe, where visitors from around the world come to learn, and where the light of our history continues to shine.

Origins of the Library and Museum

The story of the Iowa Masonic Library and Museum begins long before the marble building that stands in Cedar Rapids today. Its roots reach back to the 1840s, when Theodore Sutton Parvin, the first Grand Secretary of the Grand Lodge of Iowa, was asked to begin collecting books on Freemasonry. Parvin started modestly, purchasing roughly one hundred volumes for five dollars, but he had a clear vision for what the collection could become. Masons across Iowa soon began donating books, manuscripts, and artifacts, and the small collection grew quickly.

By 1884, the Grand Lodge recognized that the materials had outgrown borrowed rooms and temporary shelves. They made a bold decision: to construct the first purpose built Masonic library building in the world, right in Cedar Rapids. It was a remarkable statement for its time, reflecting both confidence in the future and a deep respect for the past. But even that pioneering building could not keep pace with the rapid expansion of the library and museum. Within a few decades, the shelves were full, the rooms were crowded, and the structure could no longer provide the level of protection the growing collection required.

By the early 1950s, it was clear that a new home was needed. The original building was demolished in 1952, and in its place rose the modern structure completed in 1955. What began with Parvin’s handful of books has grown into one of the largest and most respected Masonic collections in the world, all because generations of Iowa Masons believed that our history deserved a safe and lasting home.

Designing a Home for the Treasures

When the Grand Lodge of Iowa set out to build a new home for the Library and Museum in the early 1950s, they approached the project with the same seriousness they brought to preserving the collection itself. Architects William L. Perkins, working with the firm Hansen and Waggoner, designed a structure that balanced classical inspiration with the practical needs of a modern archival facility. The result is a building rooted in the late Beaux Arts tradition, simplified for the postwar era but still carrying a sense of dignity and permanence.

From the outside, the Vermont white marble gives the building a quiet strength. Inside, the halls are lined with grey marble from Carthage, Missouri, creating a cool, calm atmosphere that feels intentionally protective. Almost no wood was used in the construction. Instead, the architects relied on marble, concrete, glass, and bronze. Even the basement walls are nearly twenty inches thick. Every choice reflects the same idea: this building was meant to last, and it was meant to keep its contents safe.

The structure stretches long and low across its site, with the main building running roughly 245 feet in length and the library wing extending more than 100 feet deep on the west end. Inside, the space opens into multiple floors of library stacks, museum galleries, workrooms, and offices. It is a building designed not just to store a collection, but to serve the people who come to study it.

In every way, the design reinforces the purpose. This is a place built to protect the treasures of our past, a strong and steady home for the books, artifacts, and records that tell the story of Iowa Masonry.

Symbolism Carved in Stone

Freemasonry has always used architecture to teach lessons, so it is no surprise that the building itself carries symbolic meaning. Above the main entrance, engraved directly into the white marble, is a line from the Book of Amos: “Behold the Lord stood upon a wall made by a plumbline, with a plumbline in his hand.”

It is a simple inscription, but it says a great deal about the purpose of the place. The plumb line is one of Masonry’s most familiar symbols, reminding us to live uprightly and measure our actions with honesty and integrity. Seeing those words carved into the stone makes it clear that this building was meant to reflect more than architectural strength. It was meant to reflect moral strength as well.

The classical design reinforces that message. The symmetry, the heavy walls, and the quiet order of the exterior all speak to stability and balance. Nothing about the building feels accidental. Every line and proportion seems chosen to convey the same values that Freemasonry teaches: steadiness, structure, and the ongoing work of building character. Even before you step inside, the building tells you what it stands for.

Inside the Treasure Box

The interior of the Iowa Masonic Library and Museum was designed to work in layers, each one serving a different part of its mission. Visitors enter through a wide marble lobby that immediately sets the tone: solid, quiet, and intentional. From there, the space opens into the museum galleries, where displays of Masonic regalia, Civil War pieces, international ceremonial objects, and historical documents tell the story of the Craft and the people who shaped it.

Beyond the galleries are the reading rooms, calm and orderly spaces where researchers can work with the materials they need. The library stack wing stretches out behind them, the largest part of the building, with reinforced floors built to carry the enormous weight of thousands of books. Administrative offices and archival workrooms support the daily work of caring for the collection, while the basement holds mechanical systems and secure storage for rare and fragile items.

The layout makes the building function as a museum, a research center, and an archival vault all at once. Each layer supports the next, creating a place where the public can learn, scholars can study, and the most delicate pieces of our history can be kept safe. It is a thoughtful design, and it reflects exactly what the building was meant to be: a strong, steady home for the treasures of our past.

Artistic Treasures Within

Among the treasures inside the Iowa Masonic Library and Museum, the artwork stands out as one of the building’s most memorable features. The stained glass windows, designed by Francis Robert White during the 1950s construction, bring both color and meaning into the space. White had briefly studied under Grant Wood at the Stone City Art Colony, and his windows reflect that Midwestern artistic lineage. Many of the panels include familiar Masonic symbols such as the Square and Compasses, the All Seeing Eye, the level, and the plumb line, set in rich colors that filter natural light into the corridors and reading rooms. The effect is quiet and contemplative, giving the building a sense of ceremony that fits its purpose.

The stained glass is complemented by Grant Wood’s own contribution to the collection: The First Three Degrees of Freemasonry. Wood, best known for American Gothic, was himself a Mason, having joined Mount Hermon Lodge No. 263 in Cedar Rapids in 1921. His three panel mural depicts the symbolic journey through the Entered Apprentice, Fellowcraft, and Master Mason degrees. Each panel reflects the moral lessons and allegorical imagery tied to the building of King Solomon’s Temple and the personal growth emphasized in Masonic teaching.

Together, White’s stained glass and Wood’s mural create a visual narrative that runs through the building. They remind visitors that this place is not only a library or a museum, but a space where art, symbolism, and history come together. These pieces are part of the treasure the building protects, gems of color, story, and meaning that enrich the experience of everyone who walks through its halls.

The Treasures It Protects

The true measure of the Iowa Masonic Library and Museum is found in the depth of its collection. Today the library holds more than 400,000 volumes, making it one of the largest and most significant Masonic collections in the world. That growth began early. By the start of the 20th century, the library already contained rare books, documents, and artifacts that drew researchers from across the country.

The focus of the collection has always reflected the purpose of the institution. Since its founding in 1845, the library has gathered materials on Freemasonry and its many branches, including York Rite, Scottish Rite, Shrine, Eastern Star, Prince Hall, and even anti Masonic movements. Because belief in a higher power is a requirement for membership, the library also collects works on world religions and philosophies. And because our first Grand Secretary arrived in Iowa Territory as the personal secretary to the territorial governor, the library naturally became a home for Iowa history as well. Long before Cedar Rapids had a public library, this institution was already collecting literature in the humanities, and it has remained open to the public ever since.

Some of the items preserved here are remarkable in their rarity. The oldest book in the collection is a 1470 edition of The Pharsalia by Lucan. The library also holds a first edition of the Book of Mormon from 1830 and a daybook used by Joseph Smith. Among the many autographs and historical documents is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln. There is even a small lock of George Washington’s hair. And of course, the building protects an original Grant Wood painting, tying Iowa’s artistic heritage directly to its Masonic history.

These pieces, books, manuscripts, artifacts, and works of art, are the treasures the building was designed to protect. They are the reason the walls are thick, the floors reinforced, and the spaces carefully controlled. Each item adds another layer to the story of Freemasonry, of Iowa, and of the people who shaped both.

A Home Built for Memory

When you step back and look at it all, the marble walls, the layered interior, the stained glass, the rare books and artifacts, you begin to understand what this building truly represents. It is more than a library, more than a museum, and more than an archive. It is a place built with intention, shaped by generations of Masons who believed that knowledge, history, and tradition deserved a safe and lasting home. Every part of it, from the thick concrete floors to the quiet reading rooms, was designed to protect the treasures entrusted to it.

But even the strongest treasure box needs a keeper.

The building can safeguard the past, but it takes people to bring that past to life, to guide visitors, to care for the collection, and to make sure the light inside never dims. That is where the story turns next, to the person who knows this place better than anyone, and who carries its history with both expertise and heart.

Part Two is about her.

 

 

Announcement: Letters from a Freemason Has Launched on Substack

After years of writing and reflection here on the blog, I’ve opened a new space for my work, a Substack publication called Letters from a Freemason.

It’s a continuation of what I’ve always tried to do: explore the lessons of Freemasonry as tools for living. The Craft teaches us patience, humility, and service — qualities that shape not only our lodge life but our daily lives. I’ve studied these lessons, applied them, and come to believe that Freemasonry is truly a Way of Life. The search for light helps us understand ourselves, guide our actions, and find our place in the world.

On Substack, I’ll share essays, reflections, and stories that connect Masonic philosophy with everyday experience; written in the same spirit of quiet strength and curiosity that has guided this blog.

You can subscribe for free, and each post will come directly to your email. I’d be honored to have you join me there.

👉 Visit Letters from a Freemason https://lettersfromafreemason.substack.com/