By Worshipful Armen Mardirousi, Past Master
Brethren,
We gather in our lodges seeking light, yet too often we cast shadows. We profess to work upon our rough ashlars, yet our unfinished edges cut those who labor beside us. This month, I ask you to engage in an uncomfortable exercise: examining how you—yes, you—might be standing between your brothers and the light they seek.
The Mirror We Refuse to Face
Every Mason remembers his first degree, when he was asked what he most desired. “Light,” we answered. But somewhere between that first revelation and tonight, many of us have forgotten that we promised to help others receive that same gift. Instead, we’ve become gatekeepers, critics, and obstacles.
Consider the brother who dominates every discussion with tales of “how things used to be,” drowning out fresh perspectives. Consider the Past Master who cannot let go, hovering over his successors, suffocating their growth. Consider the sideline critic who contributes nothing but finds fault with everything.
Are you reading this and thinking of someone else? Stop. This article is about you.
The Poison of Prideful Knowledge
Masonry teaches us to subdue our passions, yet intellectual pride may be the most insidious passion of all. The brother who corrects every minor ritual variation, who sighs audibly when a new officer stumbles over unfamiliar words, who makes newer Masons feel foolish for asking questions—this brother has forgotten that he once stood in darkness.
When you make a brother feel small for not knowing what you know, you don’t elevate Masonry; you diminish it. You transform what should be a journey of brotherly love into a gauntlet of judgment. How many good men have we lost because someone decided to be the guardian of perfection rather than a guide toward improvement?
The Comfortable Clique
We claim to meet on the level, yet walk into any lodge and observe the invisible walls. The old guard in their corner, the young Masons in theirs. The officers at one table, the sideliners at another. We’ve created a Masonry of insiders and outsiders, and we wonder why membership declines.
When did you last invite the quiet brother into your conversation? When did you last truly listen to someone whose Masonic journey differs from yours? If your Masonry consists only of those who think like you, act like you, and agree with you, then you’ve built a prison, not a temple.
The Sin of Spiritual Complacency
Perhaps most damaging is the Mason who goes through the motions—present in body but absent in spirit. He attends but doesn’t participate. He hears but doesn’t listen. He repeats words but abandons their meaning the moment he leaves the lodge room.
This brother is a black hole of Masonic energy. His apathy is contagious. New members see his disengagement and wonder why they should care. Enthusiastic brothers feel their passion drain away in the face of his indifference. He may think he’s harming no one by simply occupying space, but empty vessels create echoes that hollow out our halls.
The Hardest Question
Ask yourself: When was the last time your presence in lodge genuinely helped another brother become a better Mason? Not through grand lectures or impressive titles, but through patience, encouragement, and example?
If you cannot answer, then you must face an uncomfortable truth: You may be part of the problem.
The Path Forward
The working tools we received as Entered Apprentices were not meant solely for our own ashlar. The common gavel that chips away our rough edges must also clear the path for others. The twenty-four inch gauge that divides our time must include moments devoted to lifting up our brothers.
True Masonic light isn’t hoarded; it’s shared. Every time you choose patience over irritation when a brother struggles with ritual, you become a light-bearer. Every time you welcome the stranger rather than retreat to comfortable company, you fulfill your obligation. Every time you approach lodge with genuine enthusiasm rather than obligation, you kindle flames in others.
The Challenge
I challenge each of you to spend the next month in ruthless self-examination. Before entering the lodge, ask yourself: “Will my presence tonight help or hinder another Mason’s journey?” After leaving, ask: “Did I add light or shadow to our assembly?”
If we each committed to removing just one of our own obstacles—our pride, our cliques, our apathy, our judgment—imagine how brightly our lodge could shine. Imagine how many seekers would find what they’re looking for, not in spite of us, but because of us.
The real secret of Masonry isn’t hidden in our rituals or symbols. It’s revealed when we stop getting in the way—our own way, and the way of others—and finally become the builders we promised to be.
Remember, brethren: We are not the guardians of Masonry. We are its servants. And service means clearing the path, not blocking it.
So mote it be.
Worshipful Armen Mardirousi served as Master of North Hollywood Lodge No. 542 in 2011. He continues his Masonic journey by attempting, daily, to get out of his own way.