Post by orphan21 on Nov 27, 2020 17:39:20 GMT 10
Preston-Webb Ritual (USA)
They carried the body to the Temple and buried it in due form, and Masonic tradition informs us that a monument was erected to his memory, on which was delineated a beautiful Virgin weeping over a broken column; before her lay a book, open; in her right hand a sprig of acacia; in her left, an urn; and behind her stood Time with his fingers unfolding and counting the ringlets of her hair.
The broken column denotes the untimely death of our Grand Master Hiram Abiff; the beautiful virgin weeping, the temple unfinished; the book open before her, that his virtues lie on perpetual record; the sprig of acacia in her right hand, the timely discovery of his body; the urn in her left, that his ashes were then safely deposited to perpetuate the remembrance of so distinguished a character; Time unfolding the ringlets of her hair, that time, patience and perseverance will accomplish all things.
The broken column denotes the untimely death of our Grand Master Hiram Abiff; the beautiful virgin weeping, the temple unfinished; the book open before her, that his virtues lie on perpetual record; the sprig of acacia in her right hand, the timely discovery of his body; the urn in her left, that his ashes were then safely deposited to perpetuate the remembrance of so distinguished a character; Time unfolding the ringlets of her hair, that time, patience and perseverance will accomplish all things.
I am not a mason. First and foremost. However, my grandfather was. I was named after him. I was raised by my grandmother who also took care of my mother and sisters all my life. She remained a widow. Never even so much as thought of remarrying. He died before I was born in the year 1985. So when I was about 18 I joined the Army as a Medic. I ended up stationed in Washington D.C. for a couple years and have visited the Lighthouse memorial.
My first time even learning Freemasons existed, I was already left behind with the untimely death of my Grandfather who had, at least in my eyes, all the explanations. Ive spent times myself, much like the weeping virgin herein depicted, praying at his grave. I made periodic visits on the anniversary day he was made an apprentice (my birthday/autumn equinox/Virgo), and on his passing 4 years and 4 months prior to that day. In times of being curious about joining Freemasonry Ive purchased Duncans Ritual Monitor and read and memorized it as well as many others. Even the traditions at Arlington take on a life of own in an immortalized way.
Ive often pondered on the mystical matters regarding secrecy as you probably would ponder the various ascents of Kabbalah. The heart itself speaks to us in its own form of language. We spend most our lives it seems trying to open its metaphorical ears up to the truth, and learning to let it be our guide. Even then the best it ever approaches is lexicon and translation. It leaves its discoveries safely concealed inside of ourselves. The missing keys. The neverending road. The things said without framing it in too much earth. Thats the best way towards revelation in my (possibly useless) opinion. The word should, therefore forever remain lost to those not prepared to receive it, and forever always be found in every sight and sound of life at all times.
Bearing the cross sounds to me like a fact of life and I tend to think we do it better in the absence of superstition and vice driven paranoia. Meat versus milk.
Me as a nobody. I would never discredit your sentiments about the divine nature of anything. Me as a somebody, wouldnt do it either. I bet if I had met brother J. Cross in person my mind would be twice as blown. However his works to me are immortalized in the timeless eternal which Ive come to recognize as the counter-paradox to my previous painful misunderstanding of reality.
Sincerely,
- Bryant