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November 2026 Vol. 6 No. 1

The Lyceum

A Publication of The Committee on Masonic Education

AL VMXXVI

Contents The Masonic Education Program.................................................3 Committee on Masonic Education

From the Editor-In-Chief..............................................................4

RW:. Robert H. Johnson, FILOR

From the Chairman's Desk...........................................................6

WB:. Dr. Bernard Davis Jr.

The Midwest Conference on Masonic Education......................9

Committee on Masonic Education

Losing to Win...............................................................................10

RW:. Chad M. Lacek, 33˚

Oration 1913.................................................................................12 Committee on Masonic Education

Stations, Not Destinations: ........................................................14 Bro. Kaleem Kamboj, 32˚

Membership Development.........................................................19

Committee on Masonic Education

A Masonic Dialog Between Self and Soul................................22 Bro:. Phillip Welshins, Maryland

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters...................................27 WB:. Darin A. Lahners, FILOR

Oriental Mysticism: An Excerpt................................................32 Edward Henry Palmer

Masonic Week..............................................................................36 Committee on Masonic Education

Find us Online @ www.ilmason.org/masonic-education 2

Your Publication Staff & Contributors Robert H. Johnson - Editor-In-Chief, Darin A. Lahners Editor, Chad Lacek, 33˚, Bernard Davis, Chairman

From the Editor-In-Chief Brothers, As the autumn winds settle across the prairie and the golden warmth of Thanksgiving draws near, November calls us into a season of quiet reflection, gratitude, and honest assessment. In the rhythms of the Craft, this time of year naturally prompts us to look back upon the ground we have covered and gaze ahead toward the work yet to be accomplished. It is fitting, then, that this month’s issue of The Lyceum is dedicated to an idea embedded in every step, degree, and working tool of our fraternity: The Meaning of Progress and Genuine Advancement. Too often in modern life—and all too frequently in our lodge rooms—advancement is confused with mere accumulation: degrees received, jewels pinned to a lapel, offices held, or years recorded in the ledger. But the ancient wisdom of our institution demands something far more substantial. True Masonic progress is an internal labor. It is the steady chipping away of our superfluous habits, the quiet cultivation of virtue, and the courage to remain teachable upon the winding path toward Light. Our Chairman of the Committee on Masonic Education, WB Dr. Bernard Davis Jr., opens our issue with a resonant charge on what it means to progress with purpose. He reminds us that in leadership, lodge fellowship, and personal self-development, advancement is never about maintaining a comfortable status quo; it is about honoring our sacred traditions by ensuring they remain an active, inspiring force for future generations. From there, RW Bro. Chad Lacek offers an unvarnished, wonderfully counterintuitive perspective on personal growth. Drawing

on his days playing late-night racquetball at MCAS El Toro against a seasoned opponent who defeated him relentlessly, Chad shows why comfort is the enemy of development. Real growth occurs only when we place ourselves in environments that expose our limitations and force us to adapt. In an era obsessed with surface-level victories, Chad leaves us with a provocative challenge: stop counting your wins, and measure your progress in losses. We also delve into the rich archives of the Grand Lodge of Illinois to share "The 1913 Grand Oration: Stability, Change, and Genuine Advancement," accompanied by a suite of targeted discussion questions designed for our Lodge Education Officers (LEOs). Delivered over a century ago, this address reminds us that true progress is frequently an "act of recovery"—a return to fundamental principles stripped of neglect. For our Illinois lodges, this historical jewel provides timely food for thought on how we can better utilize our Intender Program to foster genuine moral character rather than mere ritual memorization. In our feature essay, Brother Kaleem Kamboj, 32°, presents "Stations, Not Destinations: What Advancement Means for a Mason"—a profound, wide-ranging study of spiritual ascent. Traversing the desert encampments of Numbers 33, J.D. Buck’s timeless insistence that proficiency is the only true entitlement to advancement, the mystical ladders of antiquity, the Sufi stations (maqāmāt) expounded by Ibn 'Abbād of Ronda, and the "dark night" of St. John of the Cross, Bro. Kamboj issues a necessary caution to every craftsman: every honor, title, and degree is merely a station to be honored, a well to drink from, and then a campsite to leave behind as we strike

our tents and press on toward the river. Continuing our contemplative journey, Brother Phillip Welshins provides a captivating literary analysis of W.B. Yeats’s masterpiece, "A Dialogue of Self and Soul". Exploring the poet’s occult and esoteric pursuits, Phil bridges the dialogue between the Soul and the Self to the Fellow Craft’s Winding Stair and the Middle Chamber. He illustrates how our temporal, bodily existence is not a prison sentence to be endured, but the necessary workshop where the rough ashlar of self is smoothed into a living stone fit for eternity. Our own WB Darin A. Lahners, turns a critical Masonic eye toward our modern digital lives. Reflecting on Francisco Goya’s iconic 1799 etching, The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, Darin diagnoses the corrosive toll that smartphones, social media outrage, and virtual isolation take upon our minds and lodges. Quoting Manly P. Hall, Darin reminds us that when our reason sleeps, our animal passions rule—and he shows how the 24-inch gauge, the common gavel, the plumb, and the beehive give every Mason the exact working tools needed to turn off the screen, master the self, and reclaim true, face-to-face brotherhood.

rich banquet of ideas presented in these pages, may you find yourself inspired to strike your tent, sharpen your tools, and continue climbing your own winding stair. Wishing you and your loved ones a blessed, peaceful, and illuminating Thanksgiving. Fraternally yours,

R.H. Johnson Editor-In-Chief, The Lyceum Committee on Masonic Education, GranLodge of Illinois A.F. & A.M.

Finally, we round out our issue with a luminous philosophical excerpt, "Man's Upward Progress," which likens the human body to a lantern and the human spirit to the fire that kindles it, urging the traveler to separate light from darkness through diligent study and humility. Education is the bedrock upon which the Grand Lodge of Illinois builds strong lodges and upright men. As you sit with family this month, break bread at lodge, and enjoy the

From the Chairman’s Desk

by WB:. Dr. Bernard Davis Jr., Chairman- Masonic Education Committee

The Meaning of Progress Brethren, As we continue our journey in the Craft, I invite us this month to reflect on a concept that is central to the Masonic experience, the meaning of progress. Freemasonry speaks often of advancement, of moving forward from one degree to another, from one lesson to the next, from darkness toward Light. Yet genuine progress is measured by far more than the passage of time or the accumulation of knowledge. True progress is the steady refinement of character, the continual improvement of the mind and heart, and the faithful pursuit of the principles we profess. Progress begins with purpose. It is the recognition that we are not called to remain as we are, but to become what we are capable of being. The lessons of our Craft encourage us to examine ourselves honestly, to identify areas in need of improvement, and to labor patiently in the work of self development. This process is seldom quick or easy. Like the craftsman who shapes rough stone into a fitting part of the Temple, we must be willing to invest time, effort, and discipline in our own refinement. In leadership, progress requires vision and perseverance. It challenges us to move beyond maintaining what exists and to consider how we might strengthen what has been entrusted to our care. A leader who values progress remains teachable, embraces thoughtful innovation, and understands that growth often requires change. He recognizes that the purpose of leadership is not simply

to preserve tradition, but to ensure that tradition continues to inspire and guide future generations. True progress honors the past while preparing for the future. In our Lodges, progress is reflected in the strength of our fellowship, the quality of our labor, and the sincerity of our commitment to one another. Progress is seen when Brothers grow in understanding, when new members are welcomed and nurtured, and when our meetings become opportunities for education, inspiration, and meaningful connection. It is found not in grand achievements alone, but in the small and consistent efforts that strengthen our bonds and elevate our collective work. And in our personal journeys, progress reminds us that growth is a lifelong pursuit. No Mason ever reaches a point where there is nothing left to learn, no virtue left to cultivate, and no lesson left to discover. Each day provides an opportunity to become more patient, more compassionate, more disciplined, and more aligned with the teachings of the Craft. Progress is not perfection. Rather, it is the willingness to continue moving forward, even when the path is challenging and the destination remains beyond our sight. As we move forward this month, I encourage each of us to consider what progress means in our own lives. Let us measure our advancement not by titles attained or years of service, but by the quality of our character and the consistency of our actions. Let us seek opportunities to learn, to serve, and to grow. Let us remember that every step taken toward wisdom, every act of kindness offered to another, and every effort made toward self improvement contributes to the greater work

we have been called to perform. May our progress be guided by wisdom, strengthened by perseverance, and illuminated by the Light we seek. May we continue to advance in knowledge, virtue, and brotherly love, becoming ever more faithful builders in the spiritual Temple of humanity. Fraternally,

Dr. Bernard Davis Jr, WB Dr. Bernard Davis Jr.

Losing to Win by RWB:. Chad M. Lacek, 33˚

One of the fastest ways to improve at anything is also one of the least appealing. You have to lose. Not just once, but often. Most people avoid this path because it is far more pleasant when success comes easily. We prefer situations where we can perform competently, where mistakes are minimal, and where outcomes confirm what we already believe about our abilities. Growth requires exposure to limitation, and limitation becomes unmistakably clear when you are consistently outmatched. I learned this lesson firsthand. I was stationed at MCAS El Toro in Santa Ana, California. In one of the sports facilities, there was a racquetball court. The doors were never locked, so you could walk in at any hour and play. I worked on the night crew with a semi-pro racquetball player, who suggested we play a few games each night during our shift. He was older and heavier, but far more skilled. I had more energy, but he had superior technique and experience, so the outcome, at least in the beginning, was never in doubt. To score a single point felt like a victory. There is something freeing about being hopelessly outmatched. There are no expectations. You

know you’re going to lose. But if you remain in that environment, something begins to change. You start to notice patterns. The ball does not rebound randomly; it is carefully placed. The angles are deliberate, the pace is controlled, and what appears effortless is the result of surgical precision. At the same time, you begin to see your own inefficiencies. You are late to the ball, your placement is inconsistent, and your decisions are rushed. This is instruction, even if no one is explaining it. Over time, small improvements emerge. You return more shots, you anticipate better, and you begin to place the ball rather than simply swatting it. The first meaningful milestone is not winning but competing. Over many months, the dynamic shifts. You start winning. Not the first game, but perhaps the fourth. Fatigue becomes a factor, and your opponent stops chasing certain shots. If your placement is good enough, you can create opportunities. That is where the real lesson begins. I improved steadily over the course of a year, and the games became more balanced. What had been a one-sided contest

became competitive, and there was effort on both sides. The outcome was no longer predetermined. Looking back, something else became clear. While I was improving, he was not. At the beginning, he had little reason to change. He could stand in the center of the court and control the game with minimal movement. The ball came to him, and he directed it where he wanted. The challenge was limited, and the effort required was low, so there was no pressure to adapt. As my play improved, the game demanded more of him. He had to move, and he had to respond to shots that were no longer predictable. By that point, however, his habits were established. He had spent a long time playing in an environment that did not require him to expand his capabilities, and as a result, I gained far more from the experience than he did. This is the central point. Improvement is driven by challenge, not by success. When you operate at a level where you are consistently successful, you are reinforcing what you already know. That has value, but it does not expand your ability. When you are consistently outmatched, you are forced to adapt. You cannot rely on existing techniques, so you must develop new ones. This principle applies beyond sports. In any skill, whether physical, intellectual, or professional, the fastest path to improvement is to place yourself in an environment where your current ability is insufficient. That environment will expose your limitations, and it will also provide the conditions necessary to overcome them. There is discipline required to remain in that position because it’s no fun when you always lose. It challenges the way we see ourselves, and it can create doubt. It is tempting to withdraw and return to a more comfortable setting where success is easier to achieve, but comfort has a cost. If the goal is improvement, then discomfort is not a sign

that something is wrong. It is an indication that you are in the right place. Freemasonry approaches improvement in a similar way. It does not assume that we are already adequate. It provides tools that reveal where we are not, and it asks us to examine ourselves honestly, to identify irregularities, and to correct them. That process is not always pleasant, because to recognize a flaw is to acknowledge a limitation, and to correct it requires effort. Without that recognition, however, there is no progress. The man who avoids challenge avoids progress, while the man who seeks it, even when it is uncomfortable, accelerates his development. Improvement also requires access to those who are better than we are. What better place to find them than in our beloved Fraternity? We need someone who can expose our weaknesses consistently enough that we are forced to address them. This is not always easy to find, and it requires humility to seek out someone who will defeat you regularly. It also requires patience to endure the early stages where progress is slow and losses are frequent, but the return on that investment is significant. You learn faster, you see more clearly, and you develop habits that are tested under pressure. Over time, the gap closes. The goal is not to remain in a state of defeat, but to use that state as a catalyst. Eventually, the contest becomes balanced, and the same process can then be repeated at a higher level. Find someone better, get beat a lot, and improve. Freemasonry teaches that we are to work on ourselves continuously, and that work requires more than intention. It requires exposure to conditions that reveal what needs to be done. Losing, when approached correctly, provides exactly that. Don’t count your wins. Measure your progress in losses.

Oration 1913

by Bro. Lawrence Y. Sherman, Grand Orator

The 1913 Grand Oration: Stability, Change, and Genuine Advancement From the Proceedings of the Most Worshipful Grand Lodge of Ancient Free and Accepted Masons of the State of Illinois (1913). "There is in our order both conservatism and progress, both stability and change; the conservatism that holds fast to all that is good, the progress that reaches forward to the future and takes all that is needed in the changes of the years. Stability is one of the essentials of our Fraternity—stability that is typical to the outside world, amid all its constant flux and current flowing in the stream of human affairs, of the permanence of our Craft. It is likewise emblematic of the change that comes in the progress of the future—change that arrives when time has demonstrated the usefulness of development, when we have proved the old method no longer answers our highest purpose, tested by good judgment, by toleration, and by the wisdom of our generation. Then, and only then, do we substitute the vitality of the new for the worn garments of the old.

This truth should correct a shallow notion of progress. We are prone in the modern world to imagine advancement as a straight, unbroken road forward, measured merely by speed, accumulation, or the novelty of an hour. But our history teaches that true progress is often an act of recovery—that the work advances precisely by remembering what was almost lost, by stripping away the dust of neglect, and by ensuring that the future rests securely upon the enduring foundation laid by the builders who came before us. The living chain is not bright at every link; human frailties and the trials of the world will ever test its strength. But through moral discipline and fraternal fidelity, it remains a chain unbroken. The Mason who truly understands his obligation does not ask: 'How may I escape the discipline of the past?' Nor does he ask: 'How may I freeze tradition into lifeless ceremony?' He stands upright, faces the East, and asks the only question that marks genuine advancement: 'What light has been entrusted to my keeping, and how shall I carry it to my fellow man?'"

Lodge Discussion Questions for LEOs Internal vs. External Measures: How does Brother Sherman’s definition of progress as "an act of recovery" challenge our modern tendency to judge lodge health solely by numerical membership and financial balances? Applying the Working Tools: In what specific ways can our lodge use the Intender Program to ensure a candidate is making authentic moral advancement between degrees, rather than simply memorizing answers for an examination? The Balance of Stability and Growth: What traditional practices in our lodge provide the essential stability Sherman describes, and what outdated administrative habits might we need to refine to better serve the education of our younger craftsmen?

Stations, Not Destinations: What Advancement Means for a Mason by Bro:. Kaleem Kamboj, 32˚

And Moses wrote their goings out according to their journeys by the commandment of the LORD: and these are their journeys according to their goings out. — Numbers 33:2 I. The Wells of Elim The thirty-third chapter of the book of Numbers is one of the least-read pages in Scripture. It has no battle, no miracle and no speech. It is a list. Forty years in the wilderness are reduced to a register of campsites, set down again and again in the same plain formula: they removed from this place, and pitched in that. Rameses, Succoth, Etham, Marah. Most of the names mean nothing to us now, and scholars still argue over where half of them lay. Partway down the register, the list pauses for a single sentence of description. "And they removed from Marah, and came unto Elim: and in Elim were twelve fountains of water, and threescore and ten palm trees; and they pitched there." After the bitter water of Marah, Elim was everything a people in the desert could want: shade, sweet water and rest. If any stopping place on that road deserved to become a home, it was this one.

The very next verse begins: "And they removed from Elim." The text gives no reason. No one complains, and no enemy drives them out. They strike the tents and go on, because Elim was not where they were going. The register honors it, since it is one of the few stops given more than a name, and then it leaves Elim behind. Later tradition called these encampments the stations of the wilderness, and counted forty-two of them. Freemasonry speaks constantly of advancement. A candidate advances from one degree to the next. A Brother advances through the offices of his lodge toward the East. A Mason may go on into the appendant bodies, gathering degrees, titles and jewels along the way. The language is honest, because these are real steps earned by real work. But it carries a quiet risk. Advancement can slide into meaning arrival. A man can mistake a well-watered station for the Promised Land and pitch his tent there for good. This month's theme asks what genuine progress means in the life of a Mason. This essay borrows its answer from that old regis-

II. The Proficiency That Entitles

for as long as it is kept. A man may hold a degree for forty years and have long since lost the proficiency that once earned it. Another may hold only the first, yet have made its lessons so much his own that they shape his conduct at home and at work. By Buck's measure, the second man has advanced further.

Begin with the most practical voice. In 1907 Jirah Dewey Buck, a Cincinnati physician and a prolific writer on the Craft, published The Genius of Freemasonry. Parts of the book belong very much to its own era. On the subject of the degrees, however, Buck wrote with a clarity that has not aged.

Buck then wrote a sentence that deserves to be better known. He was speaking of scientists and inventors, men who by patience and observation had pushed back the edge of what was known. "All real progress of the individual in the one case, as in the other," he concluded, "is a true initiation."

For readers outside the Craft, a word of explanation. A Masonic lodge confers three degrees, and a candidate receives them one at a time. Between each, he is expected to learn the lessons of the degree he has received and to show his lodge that he has learned them. Only then does he go on.

On this view, initiation is not something that happens once, on a particular evening, in a lodge room. It happens whenever a man crosses from what he knew into what he did not, and is changed by the crossing. The ceremony is a picture of that crossing. The life is the thing itself.

Buck saw in this rule not an administrative hurdle but a law of nature. "Proficiency in the preceding degree," he wrote, "was and is an organic necessity for further progress and more light." He reached for the plainest comparison he could find: "A student in the common school who is allowed to pass to a higher grade before thoroughly mastering the lower, is sure to fail in the higher. His trial will come and he will be found wanting."

Buck closed the passage with Newton's famous image of himself as a boy who had gathered only a few pebbles on the shore of a measureless ocean of truth. Then he added a warning that every officer and every honored Past Master might keep on his desk: "Only the ignorant, superficial and conceited are satisfied with their own achievements."

Elsewhere he put the principle more sharply still. The candidate, he said, learns at every step "that proficiency already attained is the one right that entitles him to the benefits of further progress."

The idea of graded ascent is far older than the Craft. Charles William King, the Cambridge authority on ancient gems, surveyed the mystery religions of the late Roman world in The Gnostics and Their Remains (1887). Of the followers of Mithras he observed that "their whole elaborate system of sacraments and degrees of initiation had no other object than the securing of spiritual enlightenment and spiritual blessings." The degrees were never the point. They were the

ter in Numbers, and from a remarkable line of teachers in medieval Spain who thought about the question more carefully than almost anyone. Progress is a sequence of stations. Each one, however sweet its water, is a place to be honored and then left.

The word to weigh is entitles. Buck does not say that the degree entitles a man to anything. He says that proficiency does. The degree is a fact, a date recorded in the lodge minutes. Proficiency is a condition, alive only

III. The Old Ladders

road. King also described a stranger and more beautiful text, the Pistis Sophia. In it Sophia, the figure of Wisdom fallen into darkness, climbs back through twelve successive realms, the eons, with a Savior's help. At each stage she sings a confession of her deliverance. What strikes the modern reader is how each rung of her ascent is marked. It is marked not by a prize she receives but by something she admits. Her progress is measured by what she lays down, not by what she collects. The Craft has its own ladder, and it is older still. In Genesis, Jacob lies down at Bethel with a stone for his pillow and dreams of "a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it." Masons know that ladder well. It appears among the symbols of the first degree, its rounds standing for the virtues by which a man climbs. Two details in the story are easy to pass over. The first is that the angels go down the ladder as well as up. A ladder that is only ever climbed is not being used as Jacob saw it used. The second is what Jacob says when he wakes: "Surely the LORD is in this place; and I knew it not." The summit he dreamed of had been present at the foot of the ladder all along. He had only lacked the eyes to see it. That insight runs deep in the mystical philosophy of Islamic Spain. Ibn Masarra of Córdoba, who died in 931, taught a version of the old Neoplatonic doctrine of the soul's return. As Miguel Asín Palacios summarized it, the soul on entering the body "forgets its native purity." Purged of its bad habits and reminded of its nobility, it becomes "worthy to ascend to the suprasensible world from which it fell." In this picture, progress is less a matter of acquiring something new than of recovering something forgotten. Masons will recognize

the thought. The perfect ashlar, the squared and finished stone of our symbolism, is not added to the rough ashlar from outside. It is already within the rough stone, waiting for the waste to be cut away. IV. Stations and States In the fourteenth century a boy from the mountain town of Ronda, in Andalusia, grew up to become one of the most respected spiritual teachers of the western Islamic world. Ibn ʿAbbād of Ronda spent his later years as preacher at the great Qarawiyyīn mosque in Fez. Asín Palacios records that when he died, the Sultan himself and the people of the city walked behind his body to the grave. He belonged to the Shādhilī fellowship of Sufis, and he wrote a celebrated commentary on the Aphorisms of Ibn 'A'ā' Allāh of Alexandria. In 1933 Asín, a Catholic priest and the leading Arabist of his day in Spain, argued that this man had anticipated much of the teaching of St. John of the Cross. The Sufi masters drew a distinction that is useful to any Mason. They spoke of stations (in Arabic, maqāmāt) and of states (a'wāl). A station is a settled virtue, won by effort and then lived in: repentance, patience, trust, the fear of God. A state comes and goes unbidden, as a mood of the soul. The classic formula, given by the eleventh-century master al-Qushayrī, is that states are gifts while stations are earned. Of the two, the station looks most like a Masonic degree. It is entered in order, earned by labor and meant to be lived in. And it is precisely here, at the point of hard-won achievement, that the Shādhilī teachers set their sharpest warning. The true contemplative, Ibn 'Abbād taught, holds his attainments with an open hand. When he reaches a station or receives a grace, he "neither desires it nor asks to keep it," and

he is not shaken when it is taken away. For "the charismata, although of God, are not God." The graces that come along the road are messengers, and a messenger is of no further value once the message has been delivered. Then comes the sentence on which this essay turns: "The favor is a veil that hides the one who bestows it." To stop at the veil, he concludes, is to fall into illusion. The Masonic application is not hard to find. A degree, an office, a title, a jewel on a collar: each is a messenger, and each carries a message. The message is the lesson, the duty or the trust. A man who frames every certificate and forgets what any of them taught has kept the envelopes and thrown away the letters. Ibn 'Abbād went further, in a passage a modern reader may find startling. He named three things that put the soul into a dangerous kind of elation. The first on his list is not wealth or fame, though both follow. It is “the consciousness of spiritual progress attained.” Progress itself, noticed and savored, is the first temptation.

night. This was not gloom for its own sake. Asín explains their reasoning. In the bright day of expansion, self-regard has something to feed on, and the soul is easily tempted to mistake the gifts for the Giver. In the night, self-love finds nothing to enjoy. So the night, for all its discomfort, is the safer road and often the faster one. God, they said, reveals Himself to the soul more in the night of anguish than in the bright day. A century and a half later, Juan de Yepes, a small Carmelite friar once imprisoned by his own brethren for his reforms, built his whole teaching on the same ground. The world knows him as St. John of the Cross. His most famous poem begins: En una noche oscura, con ansias, en amores inflamada, ¡oh dichosa ventura!, salí sin ser notada,

His remedy was simple. Whatever advancement comes, the soul should receive it "not as a reward for merits, but as a gratuitous gift." For a Mason, that means the honest response to advancement is gratitude rather than satisfaction. Gratitude goes to the Brothers who taught him, to the lodge that trusted him and to the Great Architect who gave him the years in which to learn.

estando ya mi casa sosegada.

V. The Night Road

my house being now at rest.

The Shādhilī teachers likened the two great moods of the spiritual life to day and night. Expansion is the bright day, when prayer is sweet and everything seems to be going well. Contraction is the night, when the heart is dry and nothing seems to move. Their founder, Abū al-'asan al-Shādhilī, preferred the

The soul leaves its house at the very moment the house is quiet and settled. It does not leave in turmoil, but in peace. Israel did much the same at Elim. St. John described two nights the soul must pass through: a night of the senses, in which ordinary pleasures lose their hold, and a deeper night of

On a dark night, kindled in love with yearnings, O happy chance! I went out unseen,

the spirit. He insisted that neither was a punishment. Both were the road. A word here to avoid any confusion. When Masons speak of the Holy Saints John, they mean St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist, the two patrons of the Craft, whose feast days in June and December many lodges still keep. St. John of the Cross is a different man: a sixteenth-century Spanish Carmelite priest, mystic and poet, named a Doctor of the Church in 1926. He has no place in Masonic tradition, but his teaching sits comfortably beside that of our patrons. The Baptist said of the One who came after him, “He must increase, but I must decrease,” a fair summary of St. John of the Cross’s nada. The Evangelist wrote that “the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not,” which is the dark night seen from the side of the light. St. John of the Cross also left a small drawing, a sketch of Mount Carmel, which he gave to the nuns and friars he guided. Two broad paths wind up the sides of the mountain, marked with the goods of earth and the goods of heaven, and both stop short of the summit. A narrow path runs straight up the middle, and along it he wrote the single Spanish word nada, nothing, again and again. At the top he wrote: y aun en el monte nada. "And even on the mountain, nothing." Even the summit is not a possession. It too is a station. Every Mason who has stayed in the Craft for long knows the night road, though he may not call it that. The first year is bright. Every degree is a revelation, and every meeting is an event. Then the season changes. Attendance thins in February, the minutes grow routine and the ritual that once moved him becomes familiar. Many good men take this as a sign that their Masonry has failed, and they drift away.

The teachers of Ronda and Carmel would read that season differently. Dryness may be the very place where the real advancement happens, because it is where vanity has nothing left to feed on. The Brother who keeps coming in February, who sets out the chairs, coaches a candidate and sits quietly through an ordinary meeting, may be making more progress than he did in the bright days of his raising. Asín records a story the Shādhilīs liked to tell. A disciple dreamed of his late master and found him sorrowful. Asked why, the master explained that anguish and expansion are "two stations through which a person must pass" either in this world or the next. He had known little but expansion in life, and so his night was still before him. The moral is gentle and clear. The night will come to every traveler, so it is better met on the road, while there is still work to do. VI. Stations, Not Destinations Return, then, to the register in Numbers. Its opening words are worth reading slowly: Moses "wrote their goings out according to their journeys by the commandment of the LORD." Every station was written down, and none was wasted. Elim was not a mistake, and neither was bitter Marah. Each had its lesson and its season. Each was honored in the record, and each was left. What, then, does genuine progress look like in the life of a Mason? The teachers gathered here suggest three marks. The first is proficiency rather than possession. With Buck, the Mason measures his advancement not by the degrees he holds but by the lessons he has made his own and still lives by. A title tells the world where a man has been. Only his conduct tells it where he is. The second is gratitude rather than satisfac-

tion. With Ibn 'Abbād, he receives every honor as a gift and not a wage. He treats each jewel as a messenger, reads its message and does not mistake the veil for the One behind it.

at Elim. Give thanks for its twelve wells and its seventy palms. And then, when the time comes, remove from Elim, and go on.

The third is the willingness to strike the tent. With the children of Israel at Elim, and with the angels on Jacob's ladder, he is ready to move on, and sometimes to move down. The Past Master who returns to the sidelines to coach a nervous candidate has not stepped backward. He is using the ladder as Jacob saw it used. The Brother who holds to the lodge through its dry seasons has not stalled. He is walking the night road that St. John called a happy chance.

• Holy Bible, King James Version: Numbers 33:2, 33:9–10, 33:48–49; Genesis 28:12, 28:16; John 1:5, 3:30; Philippians 3:12–14.

St. Paul, writing near the end of a life of extraordinary labor, put it in words every Mason could take for his own: "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect." And then: "forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark." An apostle, after everything he had done, still described himself as a man on the road. The register in Numbers does not end with arrival. Its last station is "in the plains of Moab by Jordan near Jericho," within sight of the promised country but still on the near side of the river. That is not a failure of the story. It is the shape of every honest life, and of every honest Masonic life: a long sequence of goings out, faithfully recorded, each place honored, each place left, and the face still turned toward the river. Tonight, somewhere in Illinois, a Brother will be raised. Next month, around St. John the Evangelist’s Day on December 27, lodges across the state will install new Masters in the East while the old ones step down. To each of them, and to every Brother between, the old teachers offer the same counsel. Drink deeply

Sources

• J. D. Buck, The Genius of Freemasonry and the Twentieth Century Crusade (1907): candidate's journey and proficiency, p. 44; "true initiation" and Newton's pebbles, p. 123; proficiency as "organic necessity," p. 147. • C. W. King, The Gnostics and Their Remains, Ancient and Mediaeval, 2nd ed. (London, 1887): Mithraic degrees, p. xviii; the Pistis Sophia and the ascent through the twelve eons, p. 15. • Miguel Asín Palacios, The Mystical Philosophy of Ibn Masarra and His Followers, trans. Elmer H. Douglas and Howard W. Yoder (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1978): the soul's purification and ascent, p. 86. •Miguel Asín Palacios, Saint John of the Cross and Islam, trans. Elmer H. Douglas and Howard W. Yoder (New York: Vantage Press, 1981): Ibn ʿAbbād's burial, p. 3; the Shādhilī preference for night, p. 14; the causes of expansion, p. 15; "the favor is a veil," p. 23; the dream of the sorrowful master, p. 35 •St. John of the Cross, Noche oscura ("En una noche oscura") and the sketch of Mount Carmel; translation of the opening stanza is the author's own.

More at ILMASON.org 21

A Masonic Dialogue Between Self and Soul Originally published on the Midnight Freemasons Blog by Phillip Welshins, Palestine No. 189, A. F. & A. M. of Maryland

William Butler Yeats, Irish playwright and poet, and winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923, has been heralded as arguably one of the greatest English language authors. Yeats was a Symbolist poet in that his work contained symbols or imagery that was designed to evoke some emotion or allude to some idea. His name has also been mentioned among other famous men as being Freemasons, however, there is no record of his having officially joined a Masonic lodge during his life. Nonetheless, Yeats was a known occultist and student of mysticism and magic. In 1890, he joined the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and spent the next 35 years of his life studying magic and Hermeticism. In 1925, he authored A

Vision, a philosophical and theosophical tract explaining his views on mysticism. Several years later in 1933, he published a collection of poems titled The Winding Stair, which included a particularly well‐known symbolic poem, “A Dialogue of Self and Soul.”1 A Masonic reader of this poem cannot help but see numerous allusions to Masonic themes, symbols, and teachings. Yeats begins “A Dialogue of Self and Soul” with the Soul calling us “to the winding ancient stair” (1), in order to focus our minds on the challenging road ahead. We begin as rough, unfinished, or even damaged structures, like the ancient battlements referenced in the stanza. But the journey will require man to concentrate and face “that quar-

ter where all thought is done,” in other words: death, is the common equalizer for humanity. The Soul views this as the ultimate destination for humans. It ends by asking a potentially rhetorical question: Who can examine their own soul and determine the dark from the light (the bad from the good)? For Masons, this first stanza of the poem should remind the reader of the Middle Chamber lecture, where the journey via a winding staircase is laid out before the candidate. Freemasonry consists of many journeys, some short and others last a lifetime. Regardless of the length, however, the Soul in this first section admonishes us that the ascent will require our entire concentration, most notably on what lies beyond life: death and the afterlife. In asking “Who can distinguish darkness from the soul,” (8) Yeats implies God/Deity, but we as Masons should also imagine he is asking if humans ourselves can eventually make this distinction. The duality of the human soul, the darkness and the light, is one of the central teachings of the Craft degrees of Masonry and finds its way into many of the teachings of the appendant bodies as well. The Soul’s question takes on greater significance for Masons as a result. The Self responds in the second stanza of the poem, arguing that the past of history and present of the material world should not be sacrificed for the benefit of the impossible goals of the Soul’s tomorrow. Yeats uses “Sato’s ancient blade” as the image of a man’s family. Yeats had spent time in Japan, during which a friend named Sato had gifted him a sword that had been in his family for more than half a millennium. We can equate the sword with a man’s inheritance, both material, but also intellectual, “unspotted by the centuries”. The Self argues this legacy is just as important as our spiritual considerations. For some of us, joining the Fraternity was partly driven by family and a desire to continue the tradi-

tion. Posterity and tradition can be powerful motivators for many Brethren. This, the Self states, is not something to take lightly and is not necessarily separate from what the Soul is contemplating. Other portions of this stanza allude to this Masonic link. In referencing the ability of the sword, adorned with the “flowering, silken” embroidery to still provide protection even after all these years, Yeats tells us that the Self and its temporal inheritance, even if imperfect and eventually old and worn, provides a benefit to the Soul of physical encirclement and protection. As Masons, we are taught this link between the spiritual and physical applies to all men in the universe, and that while the Soul may be the entity that exists for eternity, it cannot reach its full potential of enlightenment without the Self. The third stanza of the poem belongs to the Soul, who responds to the Self by asking which of them is better suited for achieving the ultimate goal: immortality. “Why,” it posits, “should the imagination of a man / Long past his prime remember things that are / Emblematical of love and war?” In other words, how is it the soul can hold these dual memories and reflections at the same time? The physical body cannot do this. While the Self can allow us to enjoy and take advantage of the benefits of material life, the Soul alone can help us contemplate that “ancestral night” and imagine things beyond the physical realm and “deliver from the crime of death and birth.” To this, the Self says the duality of the human soul occurs in its material existence as well. The prose here juxtaposes symbols of life and light (flowers, embroidery, and the color purple) with allusions to death and the night (the tower). It is this imperfection of human life that makes it worth living, the Self intimates, that we may continue to live perhaps eventually revoking the “charter to commit the crime

once more,” and enjoying immortality beyond the physical. This should speak to us as Masons, for this is the essential process whereby we polish and work the rough ashlars of our lives to fashion them into living stones for that spiritual building, that house not made with hands, eternal in the heaven. But Yeats gives the final word in this section of the poem to the Soul, which belies his own focus on the spiritual and occult during his life. We return to “that quarter” mentioned in the first stanza, an allusion to the afterlife. And like the earlier mention, where “all thought is done,” here Yeats writes that in this quarter a soul is filled with such awe “and falls into the basin of the mind / That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind”. Our journey to the afterlife renders all physical senses, all human material understanding, even our honed intellects, moot. Death, as we Masons know, is the great equalizer. This is the soul’s ultimate advantage over the human body: one day the human body will cease to exist, yet the soul, if properly prepared, can live on in a more illuminated state. This is intensely Masonic and alchemical prose, as the immortality of the soul is one of the most central teachings within Masonry. If the soul is immortal, then death is merely another transformation of the material into the ethereal, and life is but one small part of a person’s journey toward that perfect state, exemplified by the perfect ashlar. At this point, the Soul departs and we hear from it no more in the remainder of the poem. Presumably, it has ascended into the spiritual plane, leaving the Self to converse with itself and to contemplate its own existence from this point forward. But we should not view this as the less important section of the poem. Instead, the second half of the poem can be read as a meditation on a man’s Masonic journey from rough ashlar towards perfect ashlar and the illumination gained

along the way. The second section’s first stanza addresses this exact premise. This stanza is essential a series of rhetorical questions. “A living man is blind and drinks his drop. \ What matter if the ditches are impure? \ What matter if I live it all once more?” In other words, every person lives their life in a state of ignorance or blindness. And despite the physical pleasures and material enjoyments available in life, what is the greater point of life if everything lacks permanence thanks to death? And if there is a greater meaning, how do we find it? Yeats rubs salt in our wound by adding age into the equation. Time is a one‐way journey in the material world and maturation can be an uncomfortable or even painful process for men, especially when physical growth far outpaces spiritual growth. “The unfinished man and his pain / Brought face to face with his own clumsiness”. As Masons, we are tasked with pursuing our own journeys, making our own progress and advancement, and gaining our own Masonic light. It is a lifelong process, and therein lies the rub. Our spiritual journey is limited by our physical lives. This is an issue central to Masonry: giving men the tools to grow beyond the physical limitations imposed by our material existence even as the sands continue to pass through the hourglass. There is no time to waste. “How in the name of Heaven can he escape / That defiling and disfigured shape” (50‐51) the poem continues. How can we hope to transcend the imperfections of the physical world, when most people remain firmly tethered in it? The pressure to bend to the accepted norms of society, to place consumption and accumulation ahead of spiritual well‐being, and to strive for that perfect ashlar, can be overwhelming. But at the end, when death comes, “…what’s the good of an escape / If honor find him in the wintry blast?”, Yeats asks. Masonry is the answer to this dilemma

for many men. Masonry and its teachings make physical life rewarding beyond material pleasures, as it uses our finite time in this physical universe to prepare us for the infinite time after death. Yeats uses the remainder of the poem to add his own view on these questions. Yeats was clear in his other writing that he was unsure if there was an afterlife, to which all human souls can transcend upon physical death. However, he did believe in reincarnation; that a soul was itself immortal and would transition from one physical form to another over many lifetimes. “I am content to live it all again/ And again” he writes. Masonry espouses the immortality of the human soul as well, and while many Western religious traditions teach an afterlife, not every faith or doctrine does (Buddhism being perhaps the most well‐known). Thus Christian (or Muslim or Jewish) Masons can agree with our Buddhist brethren (and with Yeats) that our souls are immortal, even if we differ in our belief on their ultimate destinations post‐ mortem.

In other words, our physical lives should not be seen as sentences to be served, but as time well‐spent learning, adapting, and preparing ourselves for the next phase of existence. We should memento mori and live to the fullest, for we are lucky creatures indeed to be able to experience the beauties of life while knowing there is still more to come beyond the grave. Sources William Butler Yeats. “A Dialogue of Self and Soul.” Poetry Foundation, 1933, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43294/a‐dialogue‐of‐self‐and‐soul. All line references in this paper are taken from this poem.

The rest of the poem is largely optimistic then, just as the Master’s lecture in the third degree ends on an optimistic note, despite focusing on death. Yeats writes: I am content to follow to its source Every event in action or in thought; Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot! When such as I cast out remorse So great a sweetness flows into the breast We must laugh and we must sing, We are blessed by everything, Everything we look upon is blessed. (65‐72)

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The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters by WB Darin Lahners FILOR

“The Dream/Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters” is an etching by Francisco Goya created in 1799. It shows the artist with his head on his arms, sprawled across a desk asleep. Above him are bats and owls, and to his side is a cat staring at him. The side of the desk has the words: ‘The Dream/Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters.’ Aldous Huxley comments on this as follows: “It is a caption that admits of more than one interpretation. When reason sleeps, the absurd and loathsome creatures of superstition wake and are active, goading their victim to an ignoble frenzy. But this is not all. Reason may also dream without sleeping, may intoxicate itself, as it did during the French Revolution, with the daydreams of inevitable progress, of liberty, equality, and fraternity imposed by violence, of human self-sufficiency and the ending of sorrow…by political rearrangements and a better technology.” – Aldous Huxley, “Variations on Goya,” On Art and Artists, Morris Philipson, ed., (London: Chatto and Windus, 1960), pp. 218-19. I have a different interpretation of it, which I hope will become apparent below. Something that led to writing this piece was that I caught myself acting unmasonically towards a Brother recently. I disagreed with a social media post and ini-

tially replied emotionally. Luckily, I made use of a lesson that we are taught in Freemasonry to subdue our passions. I was able to edit my reply to use facts and reason, instead of emotion. Unfortunately, I see many brothers on social media forgetting this lesson. Many of us are not able to subdue our passions. It made me wonder why this might be. All of it leads back to some of the points that the Brother made in his article. However, the Brother’s main focus is the negativity of journalism. I think it needs to be expanded to all media, but especially electronic media. The negativity the Brother touched on is only part of the issues I had with it. Yes, we are going to witness good acts, and there are still good people in the world performing these acts. Not everyone is crazy, but I think that it’s easier now for someone to go from normal to insane and then back to normal. We are all our own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I think that many of us are abusing or addicted to electronic media. I think this is to blame for the madness we see all around us. This Brother does make the same conclusion that I reach. We need to disengage from electronic media in order to see the beauty in the world. Luckily, I think if we use the Masonic lessons that we’ve been taught, we might be able to do just that.

Here are my reasons for thinking that we need to be wary of electronic media.

the repercussions of when it comes to our brain, and I think that’s dangerous.

1. It does something to the brain.

2. We’re substituting electronic interaction for social interaction.

The impact of electronic media (smartphone apps, video games, the Internet, social media, Television, and Movies) on the human brain, our subconscious, and our society has been studied with varying results. There have been studies done about television viewing, advertising, and how watching it creates different stimuli and psychological responses. (https://www.jstor. org/stable/2746936?seq=1#page_scan_tab_ contents) There have been studies about how the use of cellphones before bed impacts your brain and sleep patterns. (https://www.medicaldaily.com/using-cellphone-bed-does-yourbrain-health-and-sleep-pattern-405599) There have been studies regarding how cell phone use stimulates glucose metabolism in our brains, and the impact of that is unknown. (https://www.health.harvard.edu/ blog/cell-phone-use-stimulates-brain-activity-201102231548) Studies show Social Networking Site addiction alters brain anatomy. (https://www. nature.com/articles/srep45064) Studies show that Social Networks shape how the brain responds to social exclusion. (https:// msutoday.msu.edu/news/2017/the-link-between-brain-activity-and-social-networks/) Those are just a few examples; I could easily fill the article with links. Most of us have developed an unhealthy codependent relationship with electronic media, and some of us have become addicted to it. Think about how often you check your phone, or watch a news channel even though they keep repeating the same information over and over, or how you might rush home to play a video game. My point is, we’re engaging in an activity that we don’t fully understand

Every hour we spend on electronic media is an hour we could be playing with our family, creating something, learning something new by reading, or engaging in face-to-face conversation with our family or friends. Instead, we communicate via text, even if our family member is in the next room or the same house or at the same table. How many of you have been out to a restaurant to see a family all on their devices instead of speaking to one another? We’re not even taking the time to enjoy things with our own eyes. How many of you have been to a concert or another public event and didn’t see anyone holding up their phones to record it? We scroll through Facebook, Reddit, and X mindlessly. We waste hours on television, the internet, social media, and video games. This is time we will never get back. Worse yet, we are allowing our children to mimic this behavior. How many of your children actually play outside? We’re substituting the beauty of the world for the glow of a screen. I’m guilty, you’re guilty, and we all are guilty of this behavior at one point or another. 3. Electronic media programs us with negativity, create unrealistic expectations, create feelings of inadequacy, and poison our belief systems. Watch the News, Dramas, and Comedies on television, and there’s nothing redeeming about them. Most every program also promotes or sensationalizes violence. On top of this, try finding a video game that isn’t violent. Even back in the day, Space Invaders allowed you to kill aliens, Pac-Man ate ghosts, etc. Almost every video game, television program, and movie has violence.

Video games have now added nudity, adult language, and promotion of criminal behavior to be able to compete with other electronic media. Just about everything on television is also negative. Much of Social Media is negative. Go on Facebook or X and try to find a post/tweet with no negative responses. The internet is filled with hatred. Bullying online is rampant. No wonder we’re so hostile to each other. We’re absorbing negative energy almost all of the time. Couple this with the images we see in electronic media. Every image is altered in some way. We already know that television and the movies are guilty of this. Video games, television, social media, the internet, and movies create an altered reality. When was the last time you saw a picture or selfie of someone without a Snapchat filter or filter in general? On top of that, we’re presenting a fake version of ourselves to the world. Have you ever seen a teenage girl take a selfie? They can’t just take one; they take several and then choose the best one for their Facebook or Instagram page. What you see as a final product has been heavily altered or edited. This, in turn, creates unrealistic expectations of each other and ourselves. We’re conditioned to worry about the exterior instead of focusing on the interior. We’ve become too concerned with each other’s outward appearances, and not focused on the quality of each other’s character. Since everything is edited to show how awesome everyone’s life is, we develop feelings of inadequacy. We start to compare our own lives with the Instagram account of the celebrity we follow, our friends on Facebook, and in some cases, television or the movies. On top of that, you can’t go anywhere without seeing an advertisement for a product that will supposedly make you feel better about yourself. Of course, the advertisement is designed to show you how awesome the product is, and how meaningless your life is without it. The constant bombardment of the

picture-perfectness of everyone else’s lives leads to us not being happy with our own lives. When we feel inadequate, it turns into more anger at our own shortcomings, followed by hostility. Instead of being content with what we have, we’ve been conditioned to consume. We want the things we can’t have, and it’s driving us mad. All of this is poisoning our belief systems. It’s difficult to separate fact from fiction in electronic media. It takes a lot of effort to research things to see if they are true or false, or if we’ve been given all of the facts. Many of us don’t take the time to do this. Instead, we repost things on social media that conform to our personal philosophy. We absorb news that we are fed by television, social media or the internet and accept it as the truth. A recent study done by a group of political scientists showed that over 22% of Fake News visits were funneled to Americans by Facebook. Of the 2,525 Americans studied, 1 in 4 of them visited a Fake News site from October 7-November 14, 2016. (https://www.nytimes. com/2018/01/02/health/fake-news-conservative-liberal.html) So we’re absorbing all of this negative energy and information, and it’s very easy for us to react emotionally or instinctively. When we allow our passions to drive our behavior, we fail to treat each other according to the golden rule. On top of this, we are being bombarded with images that don’t represent reality which in turn has conditioned us to covet things we don’t have. Almost every religious, secular or humanist group has a code of conduct that is being violated by this behavior. How do we combat this? I’ve already mentioned subduing one’s passions. If we do not control our emotions and desires, then will rule over our reason. When reason is not in control, we behave unmasonically. We regress to an animal state. This is how I interpret the

Goya etching. When our reason is not in control, we behave like monsters. If our passions are subdued, then we are able to improve ourselves by using the other working tools of Masonry. We are able to use the 24 inch gauge to manage our time so that we can guard ourselves against any intemperance or excess when it comes to our consumption of electronic media. When we have guarded ourselves properly, we are able to use it to make time to use the gavel to turn the rough ashlar into the perfect one. We are able to pursue the pursuit of the study of the seven liberal arts and sciences as we have been instructed to do. We are able to be industrious like we are taught to be when we learn about the beehive. We are able to have time to serve God and practice the Golden Rule. We are able to act like a Mason should act, by the plumb. By acting by the plumb, we are able to be Free from all of the negative energy that electronic media pushes into our lives. So do yourself a favor, and put aside time every day to unplug, and do something to improve yourself or to help your fellow man. As Manly P. Hall stated in his lecture, “How to turn off the TV and live happily ever after”, ‘So it seems that one thing we have to do to get away from this hypnosis of the tube is to realize that we have faculties within ourselves that do not need to be subjected to this continual negative conditioning, that we are certainly capable of thinking rather than merely watching the antics of someone else.’ He later states: ‘So if we want to really have a great history, we can study our own inner lives; if we want great theatre, we can be both the audience and the cast; if we want any of the inner understandings which make for philosophy, mysticism and so forth, they are all available inside of ourselves. The only thing we have got to do is bring it

out, and we bring it out by dedication; it gains strength in the inner life just as an athlete gains it by daily discipline; by the proper mental and emotional disciplines, we can become healthy individuals in terms of our minds, our emotions, our hearts and our jobs. These are the things we’ve got to work for, and if it means that we must do it, we can, with one quick twist of the wrist, get rid of most of the corruptions of society and face the fact that these are imaginary corruptions. We’ve got plenty of real ones; we don’t have to build them up that way. What we have got to do is find out what corruptions are still lurking in us and correct them, and as soon as we correct the mistakes within ourselves, we begin to see better values in other people, because we see in others usually what we ourselves are focused upon. So, don’t let the great Big Bad Tube get you; be very careful about it, and when uncertain – TURN IT OFF, and you will find that as you turn it off to do something interesting, beautiful, or wonderful, you’ll never miss it again. You cannot turn it off successfully, however, until there is something you want to be, or something you want to do, right then and there, that is more important than the tube. If you think it out that way, I think it will all work out alright in the end.

Oriental Mysticism Of the Upward Progress or Ascent of Man CHAPTER IV. OF THE UPWARD PROGRESS OR ASMan's Upward Progress. When Man has become assured of the truth of Revelation he has reached the stage of Belief, and has the name of Múmin, "Believer." When he further acts in obedience to the will of God, and apportions the night and day for earnest prayer, he has reached the stage of worship, and is called an ’Abid, or "Worshiper." When he has expelled the love of this world from his heart, and occupies himself with a contemplation of the mighty Whole, he reaches the next stage, and becomes a Záhid, or "Recluse." When in addition to all this he knows God, and subsequently learns the mysteries of nature, he reaches the stage of Acquaintance, and is called ’Árif, "One who knows." The next stage is that in which he attains to the love of God, and is called a Welí or "Saint." When he is moreover gifted with inspiration and the power of working miracles, he becomes a Nebí, "Prophet;" and when entrusted next with the delivery of God's own message, he is called an "Apostle," Rusúl. When he is appointed to abrogate a previous dispensation and preach a new one, he is called Ulu ’l ’Azm, "One who has a mission." When this mission is final he has arrived at the stage called Khatm, or "the Seal." This is the Upward Progress of Man. The first stage is the "Believer," the last the "Seal." After separation from the body, the soul of Destination of the soul, Man returns to that Heaven which corresponds to the stage which he has attained; thus the Believer at last dwells in the first or lowest Heaven, and the Seal in the Heaven of Heavens; for it will

be noticed that the stages of upward progress correspond to the number of degrees in the Heavenly Spheres, namely, seven inferior and two superior. The metaphysicians say that these stages and metaphysically explained. Degrees do not in reality exist, but that the Heavenly Intelligence which corresponds to the degree of intelligence attained by Man attracts and absorbs his soul into itself after separation from the body. Thus every one who has attained intelligence corresponding to that of the highest sphere, his soul returns thereto; and he who has attained intelligence corresponding to the

lowest sphere, his soul in like manner returns to that; those who have not attained intelligence corresponding to any of these will be placed in Hell, which is situate below the lowest sphere. As each of the Heavenly Spheres is furnished with knowledge and purity in proportion to its position, the rank of Man's soul in the future state will, according to this last account, be in proportion to his degree of knowledge and purity of life while upon the earth. The Upward Progress infinite. The Unitarians say that man's Upward Progress has no end, for if he strive for a thousand years, each day will teach him something that he knew not before, inasmuch as the knowledge of God has no limit. So Mohammed says, "He who progresses daily is yet of feeble mind." Simile illustrating the foregoing. The religious account says that the soul of every man returns to an individual place after separation from the body. This the metaphysicians deny; for how, say they, can the soul of a man return to a certain place when it has not originally come from a certain place? The soul of man is the Primal Spirit, and if a thousand persons live, it is the same spirit that animates them all; and in like manner if a thousand die, the same spirit returns to itself, and is not lessened or diminished. If a myriad persons build houses and make windows therein the same sun illumines them all, and though every one of them should be destroyed, the sun would not be lessened or diminished. The sun is the lord of the sensible world, and the exponent of the attributes of the Primal Spirit. The Primal Spirit is the lord of the invisible world and the exponent of the Nature of God. When the heart of man has been revivified and Intelligence the aim of the Upward Progress. Illumined by the Primal Spirit, he has arrived at Intelligence; for Intelligence is a light in the heart, distinguishing between

truth and vanity, Until he has been so revivified and illumined, it is impossible for him to attain to intelligence at all. But having attained to intelligence, then, and not till then, is the time for the attainment of knowledge, for becoming Wise. Intelligence is a Primal Element, and knowledge the attribute thereof. When from knowledge he has successively proceeded to the attainment of the Divine Light, and acquaintance with the mysteries of nature, his last step will be Perfection, with which his Upward Progress concludes. But dive he ever so deeply into the treasury of Retrogression how avoided. Mysteries and knowledge, unless he examine himself and confess that after all he knows naught, all that he has acquired will slip through his hands, and leave him far poorer than before. His treasure of to-day should as much exceed the treasure of yesterday as an ocean exceeds a drop; but this can never be, unless he, leaving all else for contemplation and self-examination, have freedom and leisure to learn how poor he really is, and how much he needs the saving help of God. Unitarian account. One class of Unitarians explain the Upward Progress of Man thus. They say that every atom of existent beings is filled with light; Arise and look around, for every atom that has birth Shines forth a lustrous beacon to illumine all the earth: but that man walks abroad in darkness, blinded by the lusts of life, and laments the want of light that would, were he but aware of it, involve him in the glorious sheen of brightest day: ’Twere well to catch the odors that about our senses play,

For all the world is full of blasts to bear the sweets away. Upward Progress What they mean is this, that all existent beings are compounded of two things, darkness and light, which are indistinguishably blended together. The light belongs to the Invisible, and the darkness to the Sensible world; but the two are intimately connected, and the former exercises a paramount influence upon the latter. The object of man, according to them, is to separate the light from the darkness, that its nature and attributes may be understood, and in this consists his Upward Progress. Although the light and the darkness can never be entirely separated, for the one is as it were the veil of the other, the light can be made to prevail, so that its attributes may become manifest. Now it is possible to separate thus far the light from the darkness in certain cases; in the bodies of men and animals, for instance, there are certain organs always at work, whose sole object is this separation. Thus, when food is introduced consists in the separation of Light and Darkness into the stomach, the liver receives the cream and essence of it and transmits it to the heart; the heart, in like manner, extracts the essence of this, which is the life, and transmits it to the brain; lastly, the brain extracts the essence of this, and transforms it into the elixir of life, the real light of all.

Humanity. When man has attained to this he necessarily becomes free from all that is evil, and is adorned instead with every good and noble quality. The body of man is like a lantern, the Vegetative Man likened to a lamp. Spirit is the lamp, the Animal Spirit is the wick, the Instinctive Spirit the oil, and the Spirit of Humanity the fire that kindles all. "Verily its oil would almost shine even though no fire kindled it." (Cor. cap. 24, v. 35). In other words, the Instinctive Spirit should feed and supply the Spirit of Humanity, as the oil feeds and supplies the flame in a lamp. The Traveler must aim at completing this lamp, so that his heart may be illumined, and he may see things as they really are. When the Spirit of Humanity a "light upon light" (Cor. cap. 24, y. 35) has thus kindled the Instinctive Spirit, God "guideth whom He pleaseth to His own light" (idem), that is, to the divine light of His own nature, reaching which the Traveler's Upward Progress is complete; for "from Him they spring, and unto Him return." Footnotes 61:1 The following from Tennyson's In Memoriam forms a beautiful protest against the ideas here set forth: That each who seems a separate whole Should move his rounds, and fusing all The skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general soul, Is faith as vague as all unsweet: Eternal form shall still divide The eternal soul from all beside; And I shall know him when we meet.

The elixir evolved by the brain is the instinctive spirit, and is as it were a lamp in a lantern; but it gives forth after all but a flickering and cloudy light, and man's object should therefore be to strengthen and purify it by Renunciation and Contemplation, until it give forth the true light which is the Spirit of

Put it into Practice: Listen to it:

Episode: 0468 https://tinyurl.com/TMR0468 A Matter of Degrees

Episode: 0563 The Flaming Sword https://tinyurl.com/WCY0563

Go to www.AMDUSA.Org for more information Or Contact Robert H. Johnson, Grand Superintendent for Illinois

Masonic Conferences Midwest Conference on Masonic Education – May 7-9 - 2027, Detroit, MI

Masonic Week - February 3-7 - 2027, Crystal City, VA

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