THIS IS YOU
No kidding, this is you.
This is you inside. More formally, this is an inside view of the National Cathedral of Washington D.C. under construction on Alban Hill; but it could be you. Upon second thought, it probably is. For if you think you look as good inside as you look outside, ask your surgeon the next time you see him. He will tell you that you look a mess inside, as messy as this picture and no more confusing to those who do not know what they are seeing, as probably you don’t.
This is you.
What you are seeing is an inside view of the upper left part of the body of the National Cathedral, where the great side aisle which encircles its insides has completed its long run down the left side and is curving to the right, going around in its head, which is called the “Apse” of the Cathedral. What you are actually seeing is the inside of your Self, the great side aisle upon which your thoughts run as they encircle your head. I trust that there is as much Light inside you as there is in this picture. I trust that there is as much quality workmanship inside you as there is in this picture. I trust that there are arches bracing up your insides and not just nailed up boards thrown together. For in the fires which come with trouble, such flimsy framework will be destroyed. I would like to see them destroy by fire, the person made as solid as this cathedral whose insides you see. You know this is you.
This is you.
You will note the gothic arches, standing together like the weight bearers that they are. Drawn to ancient geometric concepts, back in the day before steel technology, buildings of this size were upheld by arches such as the ones you see standing together shoulder to shoulder. No, not King Solomon’s Temple; there were no arches in there. The Temple of Solomon’s roof was supported by wooden beams laid upon stone columns standing close together. That’s another story. Yes, we are supposed to be Temples but, no, not built in such a fashion, although some of us are. Those of us who have no room inside for anything that the stuff of life is made of, have Temples such as Solomon’s, with the narrow aisles and the great stone pillars standing so close together; so close together until you can’t even dance a little or hold a picnic or have a little fun. No; the Temples we build - at lest we in Joppa – are great cathedrals with their sweeping spaces, high roofs, and flying buttresses. We have room both to adore the Great Creator, get our shout on, and to do a little dance in praise of Him, the way David did when he “danced before the Lord with all his might”. Some of us even have bells in our “belfries”. We, in Joppa (and I suspect you as well), love such great spaces. Any supermarket you know has great expanses of open spaces because today’s steel technology makes such open spaces possible. Stone, though strong, does not permit the construction of spaces so open, except that they are bridged over by the arches such as you see. These are little arches in comparison with those which hold up the nave, the long cylindrical space commonly known as the sanctuary proper, where the bride and groom process up the aisle and their caskets roll down; each followed by their families; the one joyous the other sad. Over the long nave, there are arches also; arches similar to the ones you see in this picture. They are higher and wider, but arches just the same, hanging from which (in some cathedrals), red hats of deceased Cardinal Archbishops are suspended until they fall away to dust.
This is you.
What can I tell you? Men and Masons are a lot like these arches; some big and some little, but arches just the same. Men and Masons are made up of little arches, such as these, standing together, bearing the weight of his whole Self. All Men and Masons stand upon strong foundations, but those who stand, stand because of the arches which hold them up; or else they lay upon their foundations; some having fallen down because of the weakness in even one of their arches.
Most people, acting upon what they have heard, build their gothic arches from the bottom up; which is why they go nowhere and their arches are weak at the top where they should be strong. Those who know better, build their gothic arches from the top down in the proper fashion. How do they do that? Put yourself in the proper position and I will tell you. But, upon second thought, even if you put yourself in a Kung Fu stance, if you a Master Mason didn’t know this, I would have to take a good look at your credentials (in fact, you would also). Jokes aside, Masons are planners. These who build the arches you see have a goal which they put in place first of all, and then build down from it and up to it. Where the two energies meet, there the arch will fuse together and it will hold. I don’t understand it either but you ask any successful man you know and he will bear this out. He knew where he started and he knew where he wanted to go, but somewhere in the middle things got fuzzy. But that did not deter him; he kept on building, higher and higher to his goal. Somewhere in the middle, things came together and he fused. He came a long way but he could now see the end. That was when he found it no longer difficult to go the rest of the way. If this makes no sense to you, and you say you are “successful”, you aren’t there yet.
Not so with the Romans, and those like them who know everything; enough to let their cities burn while they fiddle. Enough to crucify a prophet while they washed their hands. Enough to have spread their empire over all the known world like the wings of their eagles, only to have it end up just a memory. They build their arches from the ground up, working two fronts at once. They set their stone with care, the higher they go the more precarious. As the arch takes shape, they hold their breaths as they set the keystone; hoping that everything will hold. When it does, good; when it doesn’t it all falls down and they have to begin all over again. Only, they do not have another forty years. Aren’t you glad you’re a Master Mason?
This is you.
As a Master Mason, you are supposed to have a goal; not to just be building willy-nilly. Okay so you’ve done your stint in the quarries; you know how to square Perfect Ashlars. You’ve done time along the walls as a Fellow of the Craft so you know how to set them. Now as a Master mason, you have to know how to plan your constructs and how to draw up a blue print or what they call these days a construction document.
Is this you?
Many of us, even Master Masons do not know how to draw up a construction document. You can tell this by the way they live. They have no savings, they own no property, they have no formal education, they ill treat their wives and families, they run around playing the field and trying to look cool, they throw rocks and hide their hands, They even sometimes fail to communicate with their Brothers, (my, my) forgetting to brush off the dust off their dirty white aprons. They forget that white shows dirt quicker than most. Thus have they no focus and no plan. Thus, since they do not communicate, have they no help or support, when they need it. Thus do they build their arches from the ground up and wonder why the stones loosen and fall out over time as they get caught up in their mess.
Is this really you?
Okay; let’s get-real-in-the-room. There is nobody here but us. Can we talk? Okay; let’s break it down. Of a truth, architects show what they call the rendition. The pretty picture of what the edifice will look like once it’s through, with all the pretty trees, green grass, blue skies, puffy white clouds, tiny cars, people walking and stuff. You’ve seen them before; I’m sure; for you probably are a Master Mason. Why else would you be wasting your time going through a Masonic website – looking for the secret of Masonry? Oh, what’s that? You are NOT a Mason and are just all up in this site looking for the secrets of Masonry? I will tell you the secret of Masonry; Truth and more Truth. Got it? Okay; now you can go get a pretzel, while the real Masons get down to business.
[Sorry for the interruption but it’s an old trick I learned long ago from a street corner salesman. You will get a crowd but once you tell them the high price, the ones with empty wallets will suddenly become disinterested and walk away, leaving you with the real serious shoppers. Now that we have gotten rid of the curious and those who have found the price of Truth too expensive, we can talk some real turkey. Now; where were we? Oh yes; the artistic rendition].
You should have seen the rendition of this cathedral; you should have seen the soft smooth lines of curvature and the beauty of the light falling through the stained glass. That’s what you were probably looking for. No architect in his right mind would show you anything like this before you. Scenes like this don’t sell buildings, Would YOU buy a house in this condition? Photos like this, they don’t sell buildings, and they won’t sell you; but if you ever did anything great or outstanding in your life, you know that there were days which looked just like this picture and times when you felt just as confused and jumbled. But you stuck to the construction document laid down in “the great book of nature and revelation” and saw it through to the end; which is what the Apprentices and Fellows of the Craft, though unseen, are doing in this picture.
Yes, this top page is a mess; it is not what you have come to expect in a top page from one of New York’s top Prince Hall Lodges, one which as produced several Grand Masters, including the one (MW Calvin Martin) which now sits. This picture is like a wife in her makeup. Sane husbands don’t go around showing their wives in their makeup – unless they have their sleeping bags already rolled out on their fire escapes. We show you this because we want you to see what we put our Brothers though which enables so many of them to have become Grand Masters. Look closely at this, and all you will see is evidence of Labor and Work. Look closely and you will not find any dance bands, banquets and good times; that comes later. Look closely and you will find only evidence of work, work, and more work. You don’t see any workman because they are all at refreshment having worked their guts out from “see to can’t see”. There are no workmen waving in this picture; there is only evidence of what they have done so far. This cathedral is not completed in this picture, neither are their lives in the state of completion; neither is yours, if you can read what I’m saying. Take a good look at this picture. This is a work in progress; this is you; your little arches exposed in their natural meanness. Look well. What is this? This is you; this is you, inside.
Or perhaps you are ‘All That”, and are insulted at being so put down. For surely you are perfect; surely this is the wrong picture of you. You consider it an offense to be shown in your dressing gown. Okay, I can deal with that.
This is you
As you will look on your way down, after everybody has used you up and left you for somebody new. The arches are your skeletal remains, all that will be left of you once your friends have eaten up your food, drunk up your Kool-Aid and carried off everything they can. This is you once they have gotten through talking about you to everybody. This is you when you are old and gray, cast off and forgotten. This is you when there is nobody to put a flag on your sunken grave, not even a Boy Scout on Decoration Day. Look closely. Do you see the arches still standing? This is you. Do you see the Light still present? This is you Do you hear the echoes of the footsteps coming back off of refreshment? These are your Brothers, coming for to refurbish, restore and rebuild you where your acquaintances have left you for better. Can you hear them singing? I can. Can you hear them laughing? I can. Can you feel the satisfaction that, through it all, you have somebody to pick you up and tuck your fallen stones back in; to cement the cracks in your walk and point the cracks in your walls? Aren’t you glad you have somebody to still admire your stained glass, to take pictures of you and show their kids what a great person you used to be and still are? Aren’t you glad that you are a gothic cathedral and not just some projects made out of red brick? They’re made of stone too; well sort of; but they were not built to stand forever; you were. So continue to stand. Stand like these arches you see in this top page. For this is you.
Perhaps you’ve had enough of this and would like to see more of us for yourself. Great. Our Golden Door is always open to a Brother; we invite you to “come up and see us sometime” to use a famous quote. Since you are at the National Cathedral in Washington D.C. coming up to see us is easy. Just you go down to the Greyhound Bus Terminal. Address: 1005 First Street NE @ “L” Street. One way - $35.00. You don’t need a roundtrip ticket because once you see Joppa, you won’t be coming back. In fact, once you arrive at Joppa, you will be home; all you’ll have to do is send for your stuff. We know what we’re talking about; why do you think we’ve never left? Once in New York’s Port Authority, ask someone to show you to the A-Train. If you want to make a good impression on us, take a yellow cab. Take a cab from Port Authority up to 454 West 155th Street (115 blocks) and we’ll be real impressed. Tell the cabbie to go straight up Eighth Avenue to 145th Street, turn left and go up to St. Nicholas and turn right; proceed up to 155th Street, turn left again and the Temple will be on your left. Ask him and he will make a U-Turn. They probably don’t do that where you come from, but they do here. Ask him and he will make a U-Turn and put you in front of the Golden Doors. If you can’t remember all this, just tell him to “Take Broadway”; he will know what you mean (even if you don’t). If you say “Take Broadway” he will think that you are a real New Yorker and real hip; for that is what most people say - “Take Broadway”. If he asks you where you are from, say “Harlem”. If he asks “where”, tell him “you have a headache and don’t feel like talking”. Oh, and another thing; remember NYC is all about the numbers. Just count the numbers on the street signs as you go up. When you get in the 150’s you’ll know you are almost there. If you get over 155, knock on the partition and wake the guy up; he’ll think you know your way around (which is what you want him to think). Tell him to shut off the clock and you’re not paying for the backtracking. Do this, and he’ll think you’re a real city dweller for sure. If he asks you if you want to take the highway tell him “No!” If you say “yes” he will know you are from out-of –town and you will be given the Grand Tour. Manhattan looks great from the New Jersey shore, but remember the old NYC saying: the long way is more money for the cab driver. Don’t forget to tip the cabbie; you’ll give us all a bad name “up in here” if you don’t. It’s bad enough getting a cab if you’re Black, we don’t need to be thought of as cheap fares. Besides, if you can afford the cab ride at NYC prices, you can afford the tip; trust me. But if you don’t want to go through all that, as I said, take the A-Train. Ask someone to direct you to the A-train. Make sure you are well lit up so some Brother can distinguish you from the rest; it’s a big city. What - Ruffians? You know how to deal with them. Carry your own bags. Walk with your eyes straight ahead and look mean, and they won’t mess with you (and don’t be all lookin’ up at the tall buildings like you come from off a farm somewhere; this is a dead give away. And another thing; don’t buy no watches from nobody in brief cases, don’t play no 3 card Monty – even if your eye is quicker that the cat’s hand. And, above all don’t stop to talk no nobody asking you for directions. We don’t either; why should you? Unless you want to see what a real NYC ER is like). And remember to walk with one hand always in your right-side pocket; it’ll make a seasoned perp think twice about you; he’ll think you’re packin’. He remembers what happened the last time somebody with a mean crazy look came out of their right-side pocket on him; he won’t make the same mistake again. Don’t lay your digital cameras and camcorders down to go look up at the McDonalds menu (duh!); I’ll bet you don’t even do that where you come from. Remember to look mean, like you just want to beat up somebody, or like you’re a little nuts, and you’ll fit right in. No, we’re not nuts; you don’t have to be nuts to live in NYC, you just have to look like you don’t take no stuff. We don’t; why should you? Anyway, take the uptown A-Train (the same A-Train in our theme song) to 155th Street come up and you’re right there. See how easy that is? And if you plan it right and get there on any fourth Saturday from September to June looking like Somebody and satisfy the Tiler, and maybe even the Welcoming Committee which might well be sent out to welcome you duly clothed an in possession of the proper keys, you can see what WE look like inside. And if you don’t have any clothes, don’t worry, we’ll hook you up. If you want purple clothes, bring your own. If you are looking for purple and gold, like I said, bring your own and impress us; believe me, we’ll be impressed. If you come on the night when the Workers are busy, you may see us cut Ashlars, Set them and, if you are lucky, Raise them to the roof. Without a doubt, you’ll like that picture also.