BRINGING MASONRY HOME
by Donald L. Dorward
from KNIGHT TEMPLAR magazine Vol. 34 No. 12 December 88
How do you bring Masonry home?
I was born and raised, both physically and Masonically, in
central Illinois.  I was gone for around thirty years; upon
my return to Illinois ten years ago, there were
approximately 13,500 Sir Knights in the Grand Commandery of
Illinois.  At the last Grand Conclave, ten years later,
there were approximately 10,500.  This represents a loss on
the average of three hundred Sir Knights per year -
twenty-five per month - and the loss continues.  The end
product of such arithmetic is obvious, and the problem
effects not only the Commandery but all Masonry.
I do not believe that the "rah, rah, rah, let's get
petitions and new members" approach will answer the problem.
I do not believe that the loss of membership is the disease;
rather, the loss of membership is a symptom of something
that has been lost in Freemasonry.
I cannot believe that an organization that has survived the
fantastic social and political changes of the last four
hundred years has suddenly lost viability.  It is
inconceivable that the basic premise underlying Freemasonry
is suddenly unable to cope with the changes of society in
less than two generations.  Either we have lost sight of
some of the basic principles, or we have become so ingrown
and inbred as to become totally obsolete.  The principal
strength of Freemasonry is, as it has always been, the
provision of a means by which man can exercise his
instinctive desire to be part of a group.
Several years ago I published an article in KNIGHT TEMPLAR
called  "Membership! What For?".  In this article I brought
up points I felt had been lost from the basic activities of
Masons to the detriment of the Fraternity.  During this
inspection season, I would like briefly to expand on some of
those important points, with a short but true story.
Around fifty years ago, a young family - father, mother,
daughter, and son - spent the late afternoon and early
evening with friends.  On leaving the home, the mother made
a comment about the interior decoration of the home they had
just left.  The father's response was unusual; he said,
"He's a Mason!"
To the little pitcher with very big ears in the back seat,
this was a very strange statement.  He had heard about
masons; that's what they called bricklayers.  Why should his
father want so obviously to be a bricklayer?
Several years later, the father achieved his lifelong
ambition to become a Master Mason.  By this time, the son
knew that his father was not becoming a bricklayer.  The
father was excited and eager about his Masonic affiliation.
He regularly attended the meetings; he became a line officer
at his earliest opportunity; he went through the Scottish
Rite and into the Shrine.  He became a life contributor to
the Shrine hospitals and brought home brochures about the
miraculous work accomplished in those institutions.
Subsequently, he started through the York Rite, joining the
local Royal Arch Chapter.  Tragically, unfortunately, he had
only a few years to enjoy his Masonic affiliation, but he
never lost his enthusiasm.
Several years later, the son had an opportunity to petition
a Lodge.  He still knew little more than he had known before
about Freemasonry; however, he had loved, admired, and
respected his father.  He felt that any organization which
had been so attractive to his father had to be a special
organization.  He petitioned.
Last May, I - that son - was awarded a small blue and gold
pin signifying that I had been a Master Mason for forty
years.  Obviously I have traveled a great deal further and
experienced a great deal more of Freemasonry than did my
father.  However, I have never lost that enthusiasm which my
father engendered.  I have been highly honored by the
Masonic Fraternity, a fact which would have made my father
extremely proud.  Many times through the years I have heard
Masons say, "My son is not interested in Masonry.  I can't
understand it, but he simply does not have any desire to
become a Mason."  I often ask myself quietly, "How did you
bring Masonry home to your family?"
My mother is a retired schoolteacher.  One of her favorite
comments is, "Your actions speak so loud, I can't hear what
you say."  Our children are very shrewd observers of their
parents, measuring carefully their actions against their
words.  Do you go to the meetings of your Masonic bodies
willingly, or do you manufacture excuses  to avoid them?
"The meetings are boring, and I am too busy." "This is my
bowling night." "This is my bridge night." "There is an
excellent program or game on the tube."
When you come home from your meetings, is it with pleasure
and enthusiasm, or do you moan and groan about being bored?
Do you complain that all that is done is somebody asking for
money, or now they're planning to increase your dues?  When
you meet a Brother on the street, do you greet him joyfully
as a Brother, or do you - behind his back - wonder aloud
about how that guy ever got elected?
In the final analysis, if we can't impress our families, who
presumably love and respect us, as to the value of
Freemasonry, how can we hope to impress others?  The gently
satirical cartoonist Walt Kelly said it best when he spoke
through the mouth of Pogo, saying, "We have met the enemy,
and they is us."