‘ALR: January 30’

     

The American Lodge of Research will meet Wednesday, January 30, a Special Meeting for our October meeting that was canceled by Hurricane Sandy – so expect a blizzard on the 30th. That is at Masonic Hall: 71 West 23rd Street in Manhattan.
  

‘Hurricane Sandy Relief Fund’

  
As we say in Rose Croix, faith is, in part, “a modest and unassuming confidence that, if we are resolute, we shall overcome all difficulties in everyday life.” And of hope, that it is “the desire for a better life” that we await with patience as “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.” And charity? It “means more—much more—than the giving of alms.”

And that is true, but this is the time for material contributions to help, aid, and assist brother Masons and their families.

MW Bro. James E. Sullivan, Grand Master of Masons of the Grand Lodge of New York, has issued a statement including the following urgent information:


If you are able to provide any amount of financial assistance for our Masonic members and families in need, please make your check or money order payable to the Masonic Brotherhood Fund and earmark your check for the Special Hurricane Sandy Relief Fund.

Your much appreciated donation to the Masonic Brotherhood Fund is tax deductible to the fullest extent allowed by law. All checks should be mailed (or delivered) to:

Grand Lodge of New York
71 W. 23rd St.
New York, NY 10010-4149
Attn: Special Hurricane Sandy Relief Fund

As you may or may not know, lower Manhattan is experiencing a rash of electrical power failures as well as the disruption of many fundamental services, such as mail delivery and public transportation. Bearing this thought in mind, we ask that you delay making requests and/or donations until the middle of next week to avoid being caught up in the confusion.


In addition and apart from this effort, Mariners Lodge No. 67 is collecting funds in a way that allows you to give immediately. Click here, and you’ll see how easy it is.

I have not seen a Grand Lodge of New Jersey initiative announced yet, but I’m sure it is being devised, or maybe I missed it, and I’ll add it here when I have it.

UPDATE: November 5 - Bro. Nick at the Millennial Freemason Blog announces an effort underway in Minnesota to bring much needed supplies to New Jersey.
  

‘Chambre sans frontières’

    
In Freemasonry, particularly its French traditions, there is what’s called the Chamber of Reflection, which is a small room outfitted with a number of symbols that recall mortality, regeneration, and the essence of being. The aspirant awaiting his possible initiation into the Craft is conducted inside, and is given time to contemplate existential matters free of any conceivable distraction, save for whatever may emanate from his own heart and mind. His task is to quell even that.

About twelve hours ago, electricity and heat were restored to my home, only six days after Sandy’s visit. Whether she indeed was a hurricane or not seems to be disputed, but I leave that to meteorologists and insurance companies. In the calmness that followed the devastation, thousands of people were left in a world without necessities (shelter, food, potable water, etc.), and millions of lucky ones like myself were robbed of our creature comforts. I’m not even well equipped in that department. My television, which I rarely use, is a 25-year-old Sylvania. My computer is a four-year-old Mac. I have no smart phone, tablet, laptop, or any other modern portable communications device aside from my old LG cell phone that cannot open any of the attachments Lindez or Davenport send me.

So during a dark, cold, and mostly immobile existence of 115 hours of decreasing daylight without lights, heat, and passable streets, I enjoyed the luxury of not checking e-mail, perusing status updates, or surfing either web or channels. Light was provided only by a couple of flashlights and the beeswax votives I purchase in bulk for “ezzo-deric” personal work. Mass media flowed in one direction only, via a battery powered Bush clock radio (with an analog face!) I bought in London in 1990.

There was darkness, but it was darkness visible; my home was cold, but still was my home; I sat in solitude, but in league with millions; the week was interminable, and turned out to have been too brief.

Of time, the Freemason and poet Khalil Gibran writes: “But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons, and let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.”

The luxurious gift of a chamber of reflection without walls or sands of time was not lost on me, and I will not forget how it was delivered or the prices paid by so many others for it.