He wore a clerical collar. He appeared to be a priest calling on Christians to rise up against the Jews. I suspect he was not a real priest at all, but a dressed-up actor; clerical collars are easy to buy, and easier to borrow. A real priest, whatever his view of events in the Middle East, would not be so foolish as to peddle such anti-Christian sloganism.

“Anti-Christian”? Surely the name for this is antisemitism!

But it is anti-Christian too. It ignores the fact that after centuries of
Jewish suffering, a series of official church statements has unambiguously repudiated the accusation of deicide. It takes no account of the fact that after centuries of careless misrepresentation, Christian scholarship today rejects the claim that it was Jews who killed Jesus.

No real priest would be so ignorant as to be unaware of these developments.

And no real priest would shoot himself in the clerical foot by denigrating the Jews.

A “priest” who can find nothing good to say about Jews and would presumably prefer them all to lie down and die is doing no-one a service.

To be fair, he would have to deny himself the benefit of all the ongoing
Jewish contributions to civilisation. He would have to rewrite history,
leaving out Einstein’s theory of relativity, as well as tests and treatments for syphilis, diabetes, convulsions, malnutrition, infantile paralysis and tuberculosis discovered by Jews.

He would have to live without the movements in art, music, literature,
philosophy, science, medicine, law, media, education, democracy and commerce developed by Jews.

Naturally he would have to manage without the Scriptures, the Psalms and the Ten Commandments; without monotheism, love of God, love of one’s neighbour and love of the stranger; without the sanctity of life, the dignity of all human beings; the concept of the Messiah…

And to go in for really serious denigration of Jews, he’d have to give back the Jew Jesus too – and Christianity itself.

No – whoever he is, he can’t be a real priest, and what he says can’t be Christianity.

Article from 2002.

Freemasonry is not well known. This is why outsiders sometimes denigrate or deride the movement. Because the objections are predictable and consistent, it is important to try to forestall them in advance.

Mackey’s Encyclopedia of Freemasonry lists the principal sins of which Freemasonry is generally accused – its supposed secrecy, exclusivist charity, admission of unworthy members, claim to be a religion, administration of unlawful oaths, and puerility. The following are answers to these objections:

Is Freemasonry secret?

Though Masonry has its secrets, it is not a secret society. Its principles are far from being hidden from view, its members make no secret of their Masonic affiliation and even publicise it, and its meeting places are clearly identified and in many cases open to public inspection when not in use for Masonic meetings. Those aspects of Masonry which are secret are basically limited to modes of recognition which identify a man as a Mason and indicate the level or rank that he has attained within Masonry, and certain rites and ceremonies which ritualize doctrines which themselves are open and available. And even those few things which are Masonic secrets are not locked up within a restricted circle, since new members are continually entering the movement and learning them.

Does Freemasonry admit unworthy members?

Not knowingly. Applicants have to be recommended by existing members of the organisation, and criteria for acceptance include good reputation, civic responsibility and family stability. Once
admitted into Freemasonry, the member receives constant reminders of his ethical duty and social responsibility.

Is Masonic charity exclusivist?

The many Masonic benevolent institutions never refuse a helping hand to individuals or families in need, though it is true that in some respects priority is accorded to Masons and their families. Like all community groups that foster a special feeling of fellowship, Freemasonry urges mutual responsibility within the group, just as any sibling should be able to rely upon another in a family. Mackey says, “It is well known that those who are nearer should be dearer”, and adds that membership of a family or other group should confer a feeling of security.

Does Freemasonry claim to be a religion?

It does not claim to be, nor is it, a religion. Adherents of many faiths are among its members, and hardly any religious group raises objections to its believers being Freemasons. A Freemason must profess a belief in a Supreme Being, but the movement as such has no theological tenets or sectarian rituals. It is not a religion, a theology or a denomination. It stands for an attitude of personal humility and ethical responsibility motivated by belief in God, whatever the way in which one understands or celebrates Him. Members are encouraged to involve themselves in the religious denomination of their choice or upbringing. The use of Biblical terminology is Masonic rituals and the references to Biblical personages, especially King Solomon, reflect the Scriptural strand in our western culture.

Does Freemasonry administer unlawful oaths?

Though the wording of solemn obligations (they are promises not oaths) entered into by Masons is not publicised, there is nothing immoral, criminal, treacherous, or for that matter frivolous in such obligations. Nor do these obligations in any way compromise a Freemason’s duty to his family, profession, religion, or country. On the contrary, they reinforce the loyalties and commitments to which a person is already lawfully bound. Freemasons do not consider their Masonic obligations as in any way higher than the law of the land. The fact that so many eminent leaders in many walks of public life, known for their integrity and patriotism, have been and are Freemasons, is enough evidence that Freemasonry does not and can not countenance any compromise with the law.

Is Freemasonry puerile?

Perhaps because its rites and ceremonies are not open to public view, the movement is sometimes ridiculed by outsiders who invent and imagine supposed rituals which they then proceed to attack as outlandish or childish. Every club, organisation or community has its ways of doing things – running a meeting, addressing the chair, keeping the records. Anything can be criticised as childish or absurd, but the fact is that tradition and ceremony lend character and even drama to the affairs of the group. Masonic ceremonies symbolize principles and teachings which might otherwise remain so theoretical and vague as to be in danger of evaporating. True, the best ritual can be performed in sloppy and even absurd fashion, but if those taking part do so with intelligence and dignity and explain the symbolism of the ceremony, it is not puerile but poetic.

The accusations against Freemasonry are fallacious and unfair. The movement deserves a better deal.

The Great Synagogue, Sydney, 11 March, 1979
Service to Mark the Opening of the NSW Masonic Centre

In a very special Masonic sense this has been a week of festal processions wending their way Temple-wards, and in the heart of every participant there must have been a feeling of genuine gratitude to a bountiful Providence thanks to whom the Craft in New South Wales has flourished and been enabled to erect and inaugurate one of the most magnificent Masonic buildings in the world.

Masonry has an unashamedly religious basis, and this week’s events have begun and ended with acts of worship. Fittingly, one of these acts of worship is in a synagogue, since so many Jews have been associated with the Craft, and so much of Masonic ritual and teaching derives from Biblical and rabbinic tradition – even to the extent that once upon a time, apparently, everyone attending a Lodge meeting sat with covered head!

The last Masonic service at the Great Synagogue was in 1974. In the intervening five years an almost revolutionary change has taken place in Masonic New South Wales. Now there is a new, more open policy which recognises that too much of Masonic activity has hitherto been shrouded in mystery.

The Craft is a society with secrets, but until recently, the public at large thought it was a secret society. The secrets must and will continue to be guarded, but a general understanding of what Masonry stands for and does is now becoming available to the ordinary citizen.

As a result, some of the old myths will be exploited, respect for our aims and activities will increase, and our numbers may grow – not because numbers as such matter, but because every additional citizen who joins and commits himself to a notable ethical movement brings added strength to society.

The point is stressed by the Scriptural passage ordained for reading in the Synagogue next Sabbath. The passage deals with God’s command to take a census of the Israelites. But not by means of counting heads. No! Everyone who wished to be counted had to contribute half a shekel, and it was the half-shekels that were counted. The lesson? That one should be impressed, not so much by mere numbers as by whether an individual was willing to make a worthwhile contribution.

What then is the worthwhile contribution that one makes as a Mason?

To me it is suggested by a story told by a Russian writer. He relates that a man is walking along and is accosted by another who asks him for alms. “I’m sorry, brother,” is the reply, “I have nothing and cannot help you”. “Don’t worry,” says the beggar, “you called me ‘brother’, and that’s enough!”

This is the first thing that Masons learn to do, to call each other “brother”. They meet in fellowship. They commence work in harmony and conclude in peace. They have their honest differences but respect each other the more highly for them. They see each other’s virtues and with good humour tolerate each other’s faults. Wherever they go, their unspoken motto echoes the words of Joseph, Et achai anochi mevakesh – “I go seeking my brethren” (Gen. 37:16). They know one can depend upon a brother.

They are not angels – far from it – and at times their brotherliness is found wanting, but never will they let themselves forget that it is goodly and pleasant to have a brother and to dwell in harmony.

But more than this, even greater and far more momentous, they know that each fellow man is also a brother, and that to each fellow man one must be able to say,

“Brother, I acknowledge you.
Brother, I trust you.
Brother, you can rely on me.
Brother, I honour your dignity.
Brother, I respect your opinion.
Brother, I rejoice in your success.
Brother, I am happy at your happiness.
Brother, I feel your pain.
Brother, I understand your need.
Brother, I support your hand.
Brother, the world needs you.
Brother, I need you.
Brother, even if I have nothing to give you, I call you ‘brother’.”

Someone has described this as the age of the unbrotherhood of man, and it is little wonder. There appears to be an epidemic of immorality wherever you turn. Injustice, exploitation, self-seeking, arrogance, callousness, corruption, victimisation, viciousness, violence – no wonder the poet wrote, “A mighty wave of evil is passing over the world.”

There is an old allegory in the Talmud (Gen. R. 8:5, etc.). It tells that before creating man, God called the angels together and asked their opinion on what He had in mind. “Shall I create man?” He asked them.

“Create him not!” said the angel of Justice. “He will be unjust towards his brother man; he will injure the weak and exploit the vulnerable!”

“Create him not!” said the angel of Peace, “He will stain the earth with the blood of his brothers; he will spread mischief and discord wherever he goes!”

“Create him not!” said the angel of Truth, “Though You create him in Your image and stamp the impress of truth on his brow, yet will be desecrate Your creation with falsehood and dishonesty!”

They would have said still more, but Mercy, the youngest and dearest of them all, stepped up to the Divine Throne and said, “Father, create him! Make him in Your image, as the crowning glory of Creation. When others forsake him, I will be with him. I will touch his heart with pity and make him kind to others weaker than himself. When he goes astray, turning from the ways of justice, peace and truth, I will gently direct him back again to the upright path, and he will be a brother again to his fellow man!”

The Father of Mercy, relates the tradition, listened to the voice of Mercy, and with Mercy’s support He created man.

Might one not be right in suspecting that there were times, possibly quite frequently, when the Almighty was tempted to regret His decision?

When Justice was slighted, and the other fellow did not get a fair go; when people gave in to blackmail and bribery; when you were decent to others, provided they belonged to your side, but the rights of others could be trampled on with impunity…

When Peace was brushed aside, and even when there was no outright war there was no concern for each other, no understanding of each other, no goodwill and generosity of thought and deed…

When Truth was disdained, and the world grew full of broken promises, ambiguous half-truths and hypocritical double-talk…

And yet the angel of Mercy suggested there was a fundamental decency in human beings which would, with her help, at last rouse itself. And this is where the Masonic Craft has a crucial contribution to make.

By learning to call each other “brother”, by learning to recognise a brother in every fellow man, Masonry will by attitudes and acts, help to build up the moral fibre of mankind.

Leo Baeck, a saint, scholar and sage, was imprisoned by the Nazis in Theresienstadt. He refused to compromise his dignity or become demoralised. He said on his release, “Some of us were determined to demonstrate that the goodness in man can be victorious over brutality and bestiality”.

If we are going to use this impressive service in the midst of this vast assembly as a spur and inspiration to anything, let it be our resolution that we renew our pledge to learn to call each other “brother” and thus to stand at all times, and wherever we may be, for the goodness in man.

If we are going to allow the eventful experiences of this week of Masonic gatherings to leave a permanent impress, let it be our determination that Masonry in New South Wales will find fresh energy to be benevolent in the old ways, and new vigour to seek and adopt new ways to be of service to each other and to our society.

And may the Great Architect of the Universe, whose favours we acknowledge in reverence and humility, continue to preserve the Masonic Order, by cementing and adorning it with every moral and social virtue.

The Great Synagogue, Sydney, 20 March, 1983

Many Jews are Masons, as are many Christians and members of other faiths. Masonic gatherings in some countries, and Israel is a fascinating example, bring together adherents of a range of religious traditions, united in peace, love and harmony in ways which we would all dearly love to see emulated in a wider context.

Yet from time to time Masonry is criticised – because it is too religious, or because it is not religious enough.

Those who accuse it of being too religious point the finger of criticism at the fact that our ritual and terminology frequently reflect Biblical phrases and events and our meetings include prayers and readings. Well, if it is a crime to insist that there is a God whose ethical dictates each creature must seek to obey, then we plead guilty.

For if there is no God, there are also no absolute standards of right and wrong, and good and evil become simply matters of opinion and no man, group or nation is safe any more.

Those who accuse Masonry of not being religious enough find it wrong that Masonic belief in God has no specific theological tenets: in other words, it is religious but not a religion. Mackey’s Encyclopedia of Freemasonry puts it quite clearly:

“Freemasons now, like Freemasons for eight centuries, do not believe that religion ever is or can be a monopoly owned by any church or even by any one of the organised world religions. They believe that religion belongs to man as man, and therefore to each man everywhere, belongs to him as does breathing or eating, or sleeping, that he is free to use it when or how he needs to… If a man desires to worship he is free to do so where he stands; if he is in want of prayer he can pray. If workmen wish to pray and worship there is nobody to forbid them: they have as much right to turn the Lodge into an altar as they have to sit or stand or speak” (1946 ed., vol. 3, p. 1212).

What is Masonry? – A fellowship in which each man is a brother. A philosophy which draws its symbolism from the builder’s craft and ponders on the principles upon which man can build a Utopia. And a faith – in the widest sense of the word – that echoes the Psalmist’s words, “Unless the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it” (Psalm 127:1).

In Masonry, the agenda that is dealt with at a meeting is called the Lodge work. And a good Mason takes a pride in the manner in which he carries out his work, believing that an edifice that is put up shoddily is a danger in itself and reflects no credit on the builder.

The Mason realises, however, that how you do your work, the work ethic you espouse, is a question that applies far beyond the confines of the Lodge room. Indeed, today it is one of the major issues that ought to be properly thought through by every responsible citizen everywhere.

Have I a right to seek more pay or a shorter working week, unless there is evidence that I will use my working hours (however long or short they may be) fully, honestly, and with good grace?

In answer to that question there are certain things which as a Mason and a responsible citizen I must in conscience be able to say.

One: I cannot expect a reward unless I have earned it. In Masonic parlance, only when I have honestly earned my dues can I claim them without scruple or diffidence. Or as the ancient sages would have said, “Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work” is a condition precedent to the seventh day being “a Sabbath unto the Lord thy God”.

Two: I take a pride in my work. A passer-by asked workmen on a building site what they were doing. “I’m stone cutting,” said one. “I’m putting in time until a better job comes along,” said the second. The third thought a moment and said, “I’m building a cathedral!” Whatever my particular task may be, however lowly, without me there would be no cathedral. I’m proud of what I do.

Three: If I cheat by giving less than my best, it is not only my employer who suffers; it is not only the public who lose: I harm myself too. I compromise my character, I give my children a bad example, and my own self-respect will inevitably decline.

Yes, how I work is a matter of major moment.

There is an additional problem – not merely the ethic of work, but the ethic of leisure. What do 1 do with my spare time? It has been said that “leisure is gradually replacing work as the basis of culture” (Norman Lamm, “Faith and Doubt”, 1971, p. 187). One result is what might be called Sunday Neurosis – the problem of having a Sunday, a weekend, a holiday with no idea of what to do with it.

Norman Lamm has written that in Hebrew there are three terms for leisure, each with quite a different sense of significance. The first is sechok, or play. This is the use of leisure for pleasure which is nothing short of debilitating. It’s not that pleasure is wrong in itself, but pleasure as a means of killing time – that is a problem.

The second Hebrew term is shevitah, or rest. This denotes the use of leisure time in order to disengage from the punishing pace at which many people live their working lives. And in a mood of relaxation, shevitah allows a person to rediscover himself and other people and to see unsuspected things in both.

Nofesh is the third term. It denotes recreation – stretching one’s mind through intellectual and cultural pursuits, stimulating one’s heart through the exhilarating experience of finding an exciting cause and serving it with energy and enthusiasm.

Nofesh is the ideal way of using one’s leisure, says Norman Lamm (“Faith and Doubt”, pp. 195 etc). And just as Masonry endorses and exemplifies the highest kind of work ethic, so does it insist that a man use his leisure as usefully and enthusiastically as he possibly can.

To my wife and the wives of my brother Masons, let me said that for all that going to Lodge gives your husband relaxation and fellowship, it also helps to mould him as a person and a citizen. It provides him with a context in which to use leisure time to turn his mind to noble thoughts and his heart to high ideals. It daily advances him in the knowledge of how to work – for his own dignity, for the well-being of his family, and for the benefit of society at large.

The Brisbane Synagogue, 1 June, 1986

As the priest of ancient Israel used to say as pilgrims entered the Temple in Jerusalem, Achenu, batem leshalom: “Brethren, we bid you welcome!”

What a wonderful privilege you have given me, to preside and preach in this historic sanctuary which for a hundred years has been part of the townscape and tradition of Brisbane, at a historic service which is the first of its kind ever held in this State.

In Queensland, as everywhere, Jews have felt consistently comfortable in the Masonic movement. For many, Masonry has become an almost addictive lifelong passion. For some, exemplary service to the Craft has been crowned with high Masonic honours. For every one of them membership of Masonry has never presented any problem of religious conscience.

It is a point which I think needs to be made. For we still hear suggestions from time to time that Masonry and religion are incompatible: some even accuse it of posing as a rival religion. Because there are those who misunderstand the truth, I believe a word of explanation is appropriate.

Masonry is not, nor does it claim to be a religion. Adherents of many religions are among its members, and there is hardly a religious group that raises objections to its believers being Masons. Even some who once opposed the movement have taken up an increasingly positive position towards it.

A Mason must profess a belief in a Supreme Being, but the movement has neither theological tenets nor denominational rituals. It is religious, but it is not a religion. Its ceremonies celebrate ethical principles with allegories and symbols deriving from Biblical characters and events which are part of the cultural heritage of western civilisation, but it completely avoids drawing any theological conclusions from the Biblical material it utilises.

Masonry and religion are not rivals or adversaries, but systems which have much in common and congenially reinforce one another.

The name Masonry hints at a historic connection with the medieval stonemason’s trade. Masonry today, however, is not usually involved in stoneworking and building in a physical sense, but philosophically, metaphorically. Drawing its terminology and symbolism from the builder’s craft, it ponders on the principles upon which man can build, not a building but a Utopia.

Because so many Biblical stories are familiar to Masons – they are certainly second nature to Jews – let me recall that there is a Biblical episode on the theme of building which was part of the childhood upbringing of all of us, namely the story of the builders of the Tower of Babel:

“And the whole earth was of one language and of one speech. And it came to pass, as they journeyed east, that… they said one to another, ‘Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly…’ And they said, ‘Come, let us build us a city, and a tower, with its top in heaven, and let us make us a name…’ And the Lord said, ‘Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is what they begin to do: and now nothing will be withholden from them, which they propose to do. Come, let us go down and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another’s speech.’ So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth, and they left off to build the city.”

What a strange, puzzling story. What did they do wrong? Wanting to build, to be united, to share a common language, to leave a monument behind – surely fine, noble, worthy objectives! What would we not give to have a world today, or tomorrow, where there was such unity of purpose and understanding!

And yet the Bible disapproves in terms that nobody can possibly misconstrue. Swiftly, dramatically, God comes down and frustrates the plan and sends the builders packing.

One of the explanations proffered by the ancient Jewish sages says their set of priorities was all awry. In their haste to build a building, they lost sight of humanity and human values. Whilst the work was in progress, members of the building team sometimes took ill or even dropped dead.

Nobody took any notice. It was just a passing nuisance. But if one of the bricks dropped and broke, that was a different matter, a full-scale catastrophe. “Where will we get another brick from?” they all agonised.

That’s what was wrong with the builders of Babel, says the Midrash, the ancient anthology of Jewish commentary: men didn’t matter, lives were dispensable, concern and compassion went by the board. In the Biblical view, every man is precious in the sight of God. To Masonry too, nobody is a nobody. A Masonic meeting begins with the Master of the Lodge checking that every member of the team is in position, even the lowliest and most junior. And the meeting is likely to end with news of brethren who are ill or in difficulties, so that the Lodge can discreetly express its concern and be of assistance.

The preciousness of every man is beautifully summed up by Abraham Joshua Heschel, who says:

“Our way of seeing a person is different from our way of seeing a thing. A thing we perceive, a person we meet. To meet means not only to come upon, to come within the perception of, but also to come into the presence of, or association with, a person. To meet means not only to confront but also to agree, to join, to concur.”

And yet people so often make gods out of things, serving, slaving for possessions and status symbols – and at the same time, they hardly ever see their families, they miss seeing their children grow up, they have no time for friendship, they don’t know what it is to be human. To those who so feverishly worship results, achievements, possessions, or bricks and mortar, nobody is anybody. No wonder God disapproved of the builders of Babel, for to God, everybody is somebody.

A second interpretation of the Babel story: The builders all spoke the same language. Where’s the sin in that? you ask – until you start thinking the thing through, and then it dawns upon you that it’s too good to be true, to have everybody, absolutely everybody, in such unanimous agreement that no-one, apparently, has any doubts, there is no dissension, there is not even a hint of opposition or a breath of criticism.

The Jewish sages were not slow to notice this strange phenomenon. They read into the text, not devarim achadim – “the same words” – but devarim achudim, “chosen words, imposed words”. The ring-leaders had an idea in their minds; they were determined that their idea would rule, and they brooked no opposition. And what sort of human society is it when Big Brother regulates your thoughts and your words and you become a golem, an automaton, with no choice but to do what it is programmed to do?

Tragically, there are people who are more comfortable and secure when they don’t have to work things out and decide for themselves, when everything is mapped out and ordained for them. Yet Biblical thinking, inspiration of every form of democracy and of democratic movements such as Masonry, insists that no-one has the right to impose his views upon others, and no-one may abdicate his own decision-making, however hard it may be, or to surrender his mind to someone else and say, “Tell me what to think, it’s easier that way!”

In this rabbinic interpretation of the story of Babel, you see an almighty protest against thoughts and words ordained by others who move others around as pawns on a chessboard. When people cease to have the right or desire to be people, to be individuals with minds and mouths of their own, there you have the beginning of the breakdown of human civilisation. There are right and wrong moments, places and ways in which to express individuality; but individuality is the glory of being human.

And now, a third approach to the ancient story. Read the words again, and you see that the builders of the Tower of Babel were quite open and frank about their aim and purpose. Was the idea to provide a city where people could live contented lives, with a tower that would be a rallying point and source of security? Was the aim to erect something tangible that would be useful to humanity and history? No: The whole thing was an ego trip: “Let us build us a city, and a tower… and let us make us a name!”

Alright, it’s human nature to want to be noticed, to dream of being famous, to fantasise about having one’s name on everyone’s lips. And in its way, being known, appreciated and engraved upon the record of history, is by no means a bad thing. But to do a thing for the sake of the kudos is hardly the highest motive, nor is there any guarantee that one will not be disappointed, disillusioned and discarded.

Masonry, like every human activity, offers its rewards and confers its honours. We all have a streak of vanity in us, and we do get pleasure when our efforts are noticed. But the Biblical story rejects the notion that a task should be undertaken other than for its own sake. Indeed, if your overriding thought is your own honour and glory, who knows how unfair, selfish and irresponsible you may be and how much you risk ruining because of an overdose of ego!

There is so much to do in life, so many spots on earth to make greener and more beautiful, so many lives to make brighter and more optimistic, so many creative thoughts to think and articulate and turn into realities. If they’re good deeds they’re worth doing, even for mixed motives – but the best way is to do what has to be done even if no-one notices and there is no vote of thanks: let righteousness be its own reward.

In modern Israel, with its pulsating drama, its kaleidoscope of culture, a great national sport is archaeology. Israelis of all walks of life are addicted to the fascinating task of finding and restoring ancient monuments. Near one Kibbutz they found the site of an old synagogue from possibly two thousand years ago. One kibbutznik, after a long day in the fields, went off to the dig and helped to sift the earth by hand to uncover the mosaics on the synagogue floor.

A tourist was watching. He could not contain himself. “Tell me,” he asked, “What do you need this for after a long day in the fields when you must be absolutely exhausted?” And this was the reply he got from the kibbutznik: “Well, Mister, I am tired, and at the end of the day I haven’t all that energy. But what I do, I can’t help doing, because it makes me part of something beautiful.”

When you carefully, ethically, responsibly, generously, selflessly give yourself to any worthwhile task, and especially to the crucial endeavour to build human society on earth into the Utopia of God’s kingdom come true, the votes of thanks may never materialise, but you become part of something beautiful, and the righteousness is its own reward.

The Mason who, tired though he is likely to be at the end of the day, and tempted to stay home and not bother with his Lodge meeting, rarely fails to listen to his better self and go to Lodge, and mentally to sift through the symbols and ceremonies that all deal with building a better society. He too would be likely to say, “What I do in Masonry I can’t help doing, because it makes me part of something beautiful.”

May this service inspire and encourage members of Masonry in this State to continue to support their Order and let its teachings support them in their every endeavour.

May the Most Worshipful Grand Master and all who hold office in the Craft continue to find that their efforts for a worthy objective are their own reward.

And may God bless and uphold all who strive for the advancement of humanity, decency, morality and faith; may the pleasantness of the Lord on High be upon them, and establish for ever the work of their hands.

North Shore Synagogue, Sydney, 24 June 1990

It is a privilege for me to address this impressive gathering. In a sense, I am wearing two hats. As a rabbi, I welcome the representatives of the Masonic craft, for some of whom this is the first time they have been in a Synagogue. As a Mason, I offer the congratulations of Masonic brethren throughout New South Wales to the North Shore Synagogue, which is celebrating its golden jubilee in such evident health and strength.

Many Jews are Masons, many Masons are Jews. The two loyalties go well together. Others may argue, largely on the basis of hearsay and misinformation, that Masonry is incompatible with religion or even a threat to it because it borrows Biblical terminology, cites Scriptural episodes and personages, requires a belief in God, and invokes Divine blessing upon its members and their proceedings.

We find all this more than a little strange. Since when was it reprehensible to carry the Bible and its teachings into every avenue of life? Since when was it forbidden to think of God and call upon His Name wherever we might find ourselves?

Jews find much point in a story about Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, who loved his fellow with a surpassing love. Once, Levi Yitzchak’s attention was drawn to a fellow Jew greasing the axles of his wagon whilst wearing his tallit, his prayer shawl. “What a disgrace that fellow is,” said the informant; “Fancy soiling your tallit and profaning the Name of God whilst putting grease on your axles!” Levi Yitzchak gently disagreed. “Lord of the Universe,” he said, “What a wonderful man of piety this is. Not even for a moment, not even when he is mending his wagon, will be forget You and turn his mind away from sacred thoughts!”

Masonry is not a religion, though some of its rituals and routines are religious. It encourages every one of its members to be active in the religious denomination of their birth or affiliation. It stands for an overall belief in God, but directs its members to their own church, synagogue or other place of worship to discover how God may be understood and worshipped in line with one’s own religious tradition.

Religion, and Masonry, both confront a major array of challenges in the environment of 1990. It is hard for those who believe in old-time ethics to come to terms with the many sordid things that are part of today’s daily scene.

Injustice, victimisation, exploitation, dishonesty, corruption, arrogance, self-seeking, callousness – the list is endless. For details, see your daily newspaper. Alas for a world in which people are afraid or unwilling to try the decent way, the way of humility, honesty and helpfulness!

An allegory in Midrash tells that before creating man, God was in two minds. He called the angels together and asked their opinion: “Should I create man, or should I not?”

“Create him not!” said the Angel of Justice. “He will be unjust towards his brother man; he will injure the weak and exploit the vulnerable!”

“Create him not!” said the Angel of Peace. “He will stain the earth with the blood of his brother; he will spread mischief and discord everywhere!”

“Create him not!” said the Angel of Truth. “Though You create Him in Your image and impress the stamp of truth on his brow, yet will he desecrate Your creation with falsehood and dishonesty!”

They would have said more, but Mercy, the youngest and dearest angel-child of the Eternal Father, stepped up to the Divine Throne and said, “Father, create him! Make him in Your image, as the crowning glory of creation. When others doubt or forsake him, I will be with him still. I will touch his heart with pity and make him kind to others weaker than himself. When he goes astray, turning from the ways of justice, peace and truth, I will gently direct him back to the right path again, and turn his errors to his own good!”

The Father of Mercy, says the Midrash, listened to Mercy’s voice, and with Mercy’s support He created man.

Not that He was not tempted a million times to regret His decision. Not that Mercy was not tempted a million times to rue her optimistic view of human nature and its potential for good.

But those who have eyes to see what miracles of the human mind have enriched the Divine creation, not least the scientific, technological and cultural wonders of the twentieth century, must never lose faith in man’s capacity to achieve miracles of morality and mercy with his heart, spirit and conscience; miracles at least as impressive as the miracles of man’s mind.

Three miracles in particular, represented by the angels who opposed our creation: Justice, Peace and Truth.

The first is justice. In the expressive Australian phrase, a fair go: The courage to be fair and just despite the pressures of blackmail and bribery and expediency: The capacity to give everyone his due without distinction as to race, colour, creed or sex.

The second is peace. Someone said that it is not peace which is the dream; hatred and war are the nightmares from which mankind will one day awake. Peace is not just the absence of war. It is concern for each other, rejoicing in each other, generosity of thought and word and deed.

The third miracle is truth. The world is full of broken promises, ambiguous half-truths, hypocritical double-talk. Says the Midrash: “The truth is heavy; therefore its bearers are few”. The miracle is to be able to persist till you are reasonably sure of the truth, and to keep your mouth shut tight rather than peddle a falsehood or a misleading half-truth.

The Angel of Mercy recognised a fundamental decency in human beings which would at last rouse itself. The task of religion, of Masonry, of all movements that stand for an ethical approach to life, is to build up a climate of opinion in which it is good to be good, and doing the right thing will become second nature.

Forty-five years after the end of the Holocaust, it is pertinent to recall Leo Baeck, a leader of German Jewry, who was imprisoned in Theresienstadt. He refused to abandon his dignity or his morale. He said on his release: “Some of us were determined to demonstrate that the goodness in man can be victorious over brutality and bestiality.”

As we look back on an almost completed twentieth century, we see what brutality and bestiality can do. Because man can be worse than a beast, how can anyone believe in man? But if you look you can also find wondrous deeds of love, loyalty and compassion. Because man can be almost an angel, how can anyone not believe in man?

Let this service unite us in the prayer that man can be truly man, and earn the approbation of God, the Great Architect of the Universe.

United Grand Lodge of Queensland
18 November 2001

What a resplendent occasion this is. I am honoured to have been invited to be here and give the address, and to attempt to put into words what needs to be said this morning.

It has been quite a year. It began with pomp and parades, ceremony and celebration. Everywhere in Australia we rejoiced in our achievements as a nation, and in ourselves and our fellow Australians.

It is true that even then there were some mutterings, probably valid, about the rhetoric being something of a whitewash of certain grubby spots on our national record, but even the gripes were good-humoured, and for months we all remained in a good mood.

Then everything changed. I recalled the president of an organisation for which I once worked, who every year at the annual general meeting would stand up and say, “Ladies and gentlemen, it has been a very difficult year!” This is what happened as the last few months arrived – ladies and gentlemen, it became a very difficult year!

Suddenly, New York and Washington, so often the subjects of suspense thrillers, heard a real “Mayday” call. In the movies, Superman would come through the skies and all would be well. But 11 September, 2001, was no movie. Superman did not arrive, tragedy piled upon tragedy, and the fallout was felt everywhere.

To say it dampened what was left of the party spirit in Australia is an understatement. By now the centenary of Federation is almost forgotten. Australia was not directly attacked, but terrorism knows no boundaries, and Australia is part of the global response.

We are committed to the military campaign. The targets are the purveyors of terrorism as well as the rulers, regimes and states that train, harbour, fund and fuel them.

But crises have to be handled in a multi-faceted fashion, and the various strands that come together in the service of which we are part this morning all point in the direction of a further response that we as ethical Australians and dedicated Freemasons are uniquely equipped to offer.

Australia as a nation believes in finding the decent answer to a problem. Freemasonry as a movement believes in being a brother, a brother who cares. Today Australia and Freemasonry rightly, happily, join forces to reaffirm these two fundamental commitments.

A true story: at a military base a young Protestant soldier urgently needed the help of a chaplain. But the Protestant chaplain was on leave, so the Roman Catholic chaplain went to see the young man. The soldier was apprehensive. He said, “Father, I appreciate your visit, but I am a Protestant. I hope you won’t try to change my faith!”

The Catholic chaplain said with a smile, “Son, I don’t want to change your faith. I want your faith to change you!”

When people really have faith in what they say they believe, their faith can transform them and affect the whole course of history.

What do we as Australians need to change? Our laid-back attitude, our feeling, “She’ll be right, mate!” We have had our problems as a nation, but on the whole we have had an easy run – not simply since 1901, but from the beginning. Now there are manifestations that we cannot brush aside – prejudices imported from elsewhere, racist leanings that feed on fear of change, selfish attitudes that imply that no-one else matters, inherited indifference to the original Australians. She won’t be right, mate, until we do what the Bible says, gird our loins and take seriously our vaunted decency ethic.

What do we as Freemasons need to change? Our often merely ritual passing nod to our official ideal of brotherhood. Whatever our numbers, and they’re not what they were, our problem is not in numbers: it’s in commitment – meaning it when we call another “Brother”, and seeing every fellow human being as a brother or sister whose pain is our pain, whose joy is our joy, whose destiny is bound up with our own.

Some people are saying that what happened on 11 September was something that America had coming to it. But what did happen that day?

Without warning, without redress, without deserving even a tenth of it, thousands of Americans and people of other nationalities, including Australians, were ruthlessly attacked and annihilated, in so many cases not leaving even a trace of DNA to identify who they were and what happened in their last moments. Families, friends, business and professional associates shattered, great cities devastated, a nation plunged into shock, mourning and despair…

Is this a way to say you don’t agree with American policies? This is the coward’s way. And if any movement represents the antidote, it is Freemasonry. For Freemasonry says, “Brother, I am not sure I always agree with your views, with the values you espouse or the way you do business – but Brother, we have the same Father: can’t we sit and talk?

I have a brother-in-law in Israel who once sent me an ingenious present – a ball-point pen made out of a spent bullet case. He had engraved on it in Hebrew the words of the prophet, “They shall beat their swords into ploughshares”. In Hebrew it is especially clever, because “ploughshares” is ittim, and, with the change of a consonant, “pens” are also ittim. Pens instead of bullets, words instead of weapons – a fair exchange.

No-one can be certain of the real motives of those who masterminded 11 September. They and their henchmen probably talk about particular American commitments and utilise particular religious passions in order to minimise the cruelty and callousness of their defiance of humanity. The media, not widely known for balanced analysis of facts and factors, find it all very exciting, and oscillate between tendentious verbal propaganda and untruthful captions of sensational picture images.

We for our part know one thing quite clearly – that none of this is going to help to keep civilisation alive, clean and constructive.

What is going to help is for Australia and every nation to encourage ever more clusters of citizens who, like Freemasons, will not waver from their championship of decency and brotherhood.

It would be nice for Australia to have more Freemasons, and now that the movement is working on the challenge it will slowly occur. Not merely because we have room for more members, but because what we represent is good for a nation such as Australia for, as it has been said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

The presumably small group of villains of 11 September think they have changed the world. We know better. The world will change, and for the better, when groups like ours live sincerely by our principles and our light radiates, our warmth benefits others, our smile brings happiness.

We Freemasons celebrate ourselves this morning. We rejoice that we are Australians. We thank God for our lot. We thank Him for our task our challenge, and our opportunity.

Ladies and gentlemen, as my erstwhile president used to say, it has been a very difficult year. But difficult years pass with all their agonies, and new ones begin with their blessings!

Freemasons’ Benevolent Institution of NSW, November 1981

Australia is a fortunate nation. Yet it is unusual in that religion has never been a major cultural force. This has never been a noticeably religious country. In our nearest neighbour, New Zealand, where churches are more active, attendance at worship is higher and spiritual attitudes to life more evident. Why is religion in Australia, as Hans Mol (author of “Religion in Australia”) has put it, “auxiliary and peripheral rather than undergirding and being central to the life of the nation”?

Dr Gordon Dicker of the United Theological College traces the phenomenon to the inauspicious beginnings of religion on this continent. Religion was ignored at the arrival of the First Fleet. When the British flag was raised, there was merely a military ceremony, and the settlement, as historian James Bonwick has put it, was “baptized in libations of liquor”. Compare this with the coming of the Pilgrim Fathers to New Plymouth in 1620 when no flag was raised, but there was much praying and Bible reading.

The difference is partly accounted for by the fact that it was pragmatism, not idealism, that motivated white settlement in Australia.

It took years for a church to be built. No religious service took place until eight days after the First Fleet had landed. The chaplain, Rev Richard Johnson, had to build and personally pay for his own church in 1793. He was not reimbursed for his expenditure of £59/18/06 until 1797, and then the poor fellow had the experience the following year of seeing his church burn down. (The oldest church still standing in Australia is the Ebenezer Church near Windsor, NSW, built in 1809 by Scottish immigrants.) There were no prayers in the early Australian legislatures. Not until 1862 did NSW Parliament open its sessions with prayers, and even then there was such an outcry that the prayers had to be innocuous and neutral.

Few of the convicts or early settlers were interested in religion or came from homes with a deep commitment to faith. They were far more concerned with physical survival than with saving their souls. Religion represented hated authority, and the officers of the early days used church attendance as a means of discipline. Some convicts made a sort of peace with this discipline for their own reasons; it was said that at Port Arthur, “the chief use of public worship was the enabling of the felonry to carry on surreptitious conversations under cover of the bawling of hymns” (J Alex Allan, “Men and Manners in Australia”).

For those few who were interested in religion that were very few facilities. They were often out on road gangs or working in distant areas, far from church or clergy. No Bible or hymnal was to be found within hundreds of miles. It was worse for Catholics and Jews, no matter how lukewarm they were towards their own faiths. As an illustration, in the punishment registers the names of those recorded as having been repeatedly punished for failing to attend church parade were frequently Jewish; no Jewish services took place until 1817, when the prayer leader was Joseph Marcus, a German-born Jew transported for breaking and entering.

The first Mass was in May, 1803. Held under strict government supervision, it was conducted by an Irish convict priest transported for alleged complicity in the Irish rebellion of 1798. Officialdom saw Catholicism as a threat to law and order; it was only in 1820 that two priests were officially approved, but primarily to keep the Catholics under control, so the salaries came from the Police Fund.

Religion was not greatly esteemed for its spiritual and theological dimensions but as a mere instrument for teaching morality.

Australia’s early clergy were often simply England’s second-quality leftovers. Richard Johnson was appointed chaplain to the First Fleet only because of the last-minute intervention of William Wilberforce. In planning the settlement, no one thought seriously that church or chaplain might be necessary.

The best energies of the religious movements in the mother country were used in trying to convert the heathens in darkest Africa. To send clergy of any quality to far-off Australia was inconceivable. All Australian denominations subsisted for many years on imported clergy; it is amazing that, despite everything, some ministers were actually of high calibre. Many faiths had to struggle to Australianise themselves. Sir Marcus Loane was the first Australian-born archbishop of the Anglican Church, and his appointment in that capacity, in terms of the whole sweep of Australian history, was relatively very recent.

No Australian religious movement arose out of local circumstances, with the possible exception of the Uniting Church. The religion you belong to tends to reflect where your family came from, not on the circumstances of the Australian way of life itself. Australian national characteristics are far more discernible in an RSL Club or a pub than in a church congregation, where distinctive ethnic characteristics persist, however subtly.

Largely because of the variety of places from which the convicts and early settlers came, there never was an established church in Australia. Yet from time to time there was deep sectarian bitterness and rivalry that sometimes had long-lasting political consequences.

A further reason why religion in Australia has always been “auxiliary and peripheral” is the generally low level of our intellectual activity and creativity. Australians are a pragmatic people. The clergy in Australia have generally had to compete not with ideas but with the pleasure industries. There has been no great motivation to elevate congregations with spirituality or intellectualism. The clergy, like Australians generally, have been doers rather than thinkers. Not that one should minimise the quality of some of the doers and their deeds: an example is Lifeline, an Australian contribution to humanitarian caring and concern.

Granted that from early times religion was never a particularly significant activity on the Australian scene, what is the position today? The statistics show that, despite what individuals tend to think, religion in Australia has not noticeably weakened. Churchgoing is not noticeably less than a century ago even though the distribution between one religion and another is different. (Catholic attendance is somewhat greater. Protestant attendances are lower. Anglican attendance is much the same.) The census figures still indicate a Catholic growth rate, largely because of post-war immigration and greater fertility.

Since 1933, the religious question in the census has been optional. Nowadays between 20 and 30% of Australians say they have no religion or do not answer the question. Among Jews the proportion is higher, so it is almost impossible to know the precise size of the Jewish community, and it may take a generation or two until there is an almost entirely Australian-born Jewish community to be able to assess Jewish numbers correctly.

What is the overall picture today? I have quoted statistics; let me now speak of standards. Here too the situation has changed little. As always in Australia, people tend to derive their standards from non-religious sources. What is important to a person, whence do they derive their values, ideals, ideas and heroes? Hardly ever from a religious source, but in this country it was always thus. Nonetheless, there are some encouraging signs. There is intellectual activity on the religious front, which was never so vibrant previously. There is an Australian Association for the Study of Religions which bands together people working in tertiary institutions in the field of religious studies under that or another name, whereas until recently Australian universities did not consider this a respectable academic discipline. There is a new media interest. The media in Australia give far more attention to events on the religious scene that, for example, in Britain, despite its established church. There are new types of communication within and between religious groups. There is less hide-bound conventionalism, not simply in terms of clergy dressing exotically and looking bizarre. There is a more innovative approach to church programming, less inbred structured leadership, and more dialogue between religions and between religion and other philosophies.

The Great Synagogue, Sydney, 7 August 1988

It is almost one hundred years to the day since the Great Hall of the University of Sydney witnessed the ceremonial inauguration of the United Grand Lodge of New South Wales. Masonic activity itself had commenced nearly a hundred years before that, in the early convict period. The array of events organised for the next two weeks celebrates, therefore, not just a centenary but almost a bicentenary of Masonic brotherhood and service to society on Australian soil. The long, proud story of those years has been written, and every one of us looks forward to being able to read and be inspired by it.

It is fitting that the programme of celebrations contains a religious component, enabling us, in words well-loved by every Mason, with all reverence and humility to express our gratitude to the Great Architect of the Universe and to pray that He may in His goodness continue to support our Order by cementing its members in love and unity and adorning them with every moral and social virtue.

There was an article in the “NSW Freemason” not so long ago with the heading, “Why does Daddy go to Lodge?” The author ruefully informs us that being a father is not only one of one’s most interesting experiences but it taxes human ingenuity in finding answers to handle the penetrating questions of even the youngest child.

“Why does Daddy go to Lodge?” The answers might have a message, not only for our children and indeed our wives and friends, but also for the occasional detractor whose questions are not quite so good-humoured.

I go to Lodge, suggests the author, because I like the society of people, because at Lodge I meet a representative cross-section of my fellows, each my peer.

I go to Lodge because I learn of the problems of others; I aid them in solving those problems and they aid me to solve mine.

I go to Lodge because there it is merit alone that determines my standing.

I go to Lodge to come away a better man; not only do I become a better man, but a better husband and a better father.

It’s all very true and, because every Mason is an individual, there is none of us who would not have an idea or two of his own to add, arising out of and expressing his own experience and perception of Masonic membership.

For my part, accustomed as I am and we all are to calling each other “Brother”, I commend an interpretation of the story in the Bible in which Joseph, son and scion of patriarchs, is sent by his father on an errand. He meets a man who asks an obvious question – and gets an answer that reverberates through the ages.

“And the man asked him, saying, ‘What seekest thou?’ And he said, ‘I go seeking my brethren’ – Et achai anochi mevakkesh” (Gen. 37:15-16).

Who was Joseph? Why did his father send him on this particular errand? All we know suggests that from birth he was seen as an outstanding individual, a man who would rise, slowly but surely, to greatness. His father treated him with special favour. Those who met him showed, by admiration or envy, that they regarded him as above the ordinary. Even his dreams suggested a future of great achievement.

So Joseph, the man destined for noble deeds and historic achievements, must have been bitterly disappointed to have been summoned by his father to be a shammas, a messenger boy, and to carry out a simple, lowly, commonplace task. His brothers had gone off to tend the sheep; said Jacob to his son, “Go now and see whether it is well with the flock and bring me back word”.

Yet the young man neither complained nor hesitated. Hinneni – “Here I am”, was his response. Off he went to find his brothers and check out the sheep. “I go seeking my brethren” – that was how he explained himself to anyone who asked. Et achai anochi mevakkesh – that indeed became his lifetime’s task; that, not some distant, impossible dream, became the destiny to which his decades were dedicated.

Is not our century, as it nears its close after decades of dazzling achievements in every field of human endeavour, and of disasters that have devastated lands, lives and peoples, sorely in need of precisely the same lesson that ancient Joseph was taught by his father’s errand?

Think of the vision splendid that motivated the foundation of the United Nations: a magnificent monument to momentary altruism! Has it succeeded in guaranteeing justice, peace and truth upon earth wherever man dwell? You might say that things could have been much worse. But I want to know why they are not much better.

Justice, peace, truth and other fine and noble ideals do not seem to have made really significant headway in the many years since 1945. In some ways, indeed, they have become even more difficult of achievement, because they have been exploited and twisted by so many parties and pressure groups that one is not even certain what they mean any more.

The Joseph approach was never more pertinent. Dream the impossible dream, certainly; never let the vision fade. But learn that the way to fulfil the larger, grander ideals is to begin at grass-roots level. It has been well said that idealism, like charity, must begin at home.

If there is to be peace in the great big world, it must begin with peacefulness in the micro-world. Says the Hebrew liturgy, Oseh shalom bim’romav, hu ya’aseh shalom alenu – “He who makes peace in His high places, may He make peace for us”. God Himself shows the way. To have peace in the high places there must be peace on the lowliest level, wherever human beings move and have their beings.

Australia is the pioneer of significant grass-roots level initiatives – the Conflict Resolution Network, the Million Minutes for Peace, and others. Each in its own way seeks to create cordiality between people and groups and to think well and peacefully of each other and to be schooled in the resolution of conflicts. Indeed, conflict resolution can be one of the most creative experiences there is; it enables you to understand yourself as well as the other person and to improve relationships instead of letting them be blown asunder.

Freemasonry has a unique contribution to make towards the realisation of the grand visions. It knows you cannot speak of brotherhood until you yourself have become a living example of being a brother, of feeling a brother’s pain and rejoicing in his success, of allowing no room for strife or dissension or the perpetuation of differences based on snobbery or status, of race or religion. The Mason says, Et achai anochi mevakkesh – “I go seeking my brethren”, and in an extended sense all human beings are his brothers.

Why does Daddy go to Lodge? Because the Lodge symbolises the possibility of building a society, a civilisation, composed of countless clusters of human beings who do not always agree but can disagree agreeably, who do not always like each other but can love even the less lovable, who do not live each other’s lives but respect the other person’s right to be himself as he respects mine.

The strange, magnificent fact is that just as Masonry, through its allegory, symbolism, and familiar phraseology, is dedicated to the Joseph principle of bringing great ideals down to earth, so are there so many other fine movements in society that exemplify humanity, understanding and ethical dealing. We tend to forget how much good there is in people, and how many people are quietly getting on with the errand of making the world a better place to live in. We tend to forget how many good causes and worthwhile groups there are that promote the ideals of love and service. We sometimes tend, too, to be over-zealous in promoting the interests of our own group or cause, allowing strife and suspicion to get in the way of working with one accord.

Can we afford the luxury of internecine warfare? I do not believe Masonry denigrates other movements, though there is occasional uninformed denigration of Masonry. There is so much we can do together to make the imminent turn of the century into a turning-point towards a secure future for all of mankind. Within Masonry there is so much we can do to strengthen our own attachment to its principles, our involvement in its activities, our living by its ideals wherever we go.

A cynical comment in the Jewish sources suggests that when you are a hundred it is as if you were already dead and had passed from the earth. Masonry in NSW has no intention of courting that fate as it celebrates a hundred years of its United Grand Lodge. May its second century continue to be dedicated to the grand visions and committed to their realisation. We invoke the blessing of God upon our Order; may it ever find grace and good favour in His eyes.

Centenary Communication, United Grand Lodge of NSW, 16 August, 1988

What a magnificent birthday party! A hundred years of symbolism, ceremony, and service, celebrated with such style in a uniquely majestic setting. Fittingly, could we echo the ancient Hebrew tradition on occasions of rejoicing and praise God, the Great Architect of the Universe, “who has kept us in life, and preserved us, and enabled us to reach this time”.

It was on this very day, 16 August, one hundred years ago, that NSW Masons from English, Scottish and Irish Lodges gathered at the Great Hall of the University of Sydney to witness the establishment of the United Grand Lodge of NSW and to elect the Grand Master and Grand Lodge Officers.

Then, just over a month later, on 18 September, nearly four and a half thousand Masons, about half the total number then belonging to the Craft in NSW, assembled in the Exhibition Building in Prince Alfred Park to take part in the Installation as Grand Master of the Governor of the Colony, Lord Carrington.

But Masonic activity did not begin in 1888. It was already almost a century old. At the end of the eighteenth century Masonry was growing rapidly, and often traveling warrants were issued to army regiments and naval ships to enable them to hold Masonic meetings and initiate Masons.

So it is reasonable to assume that the first Masons to land in Australia would have come with the First Fleet. There is a recorded Masonic presence from 1797, and in 1800 there were Masonic meetings on Norfolk Island though not under the auspices of a warranted Lodge, and in 1802 the British ships “Glatton” and “Buffalo” anchored in Sydney Harbour, provided the setting for further Masonic meetings.

Irish Lodges, English Lodges, Scottish Lodges came into being and established Provincial Grand Lodges. Their story is of far more than merely Masonic interest. It is part of the social fabric of Colonial Australia, perhaps a more important part of Australian history than has ever been acknowledged. When the history of NSW Freemasonry appears it will enable us to trace and assess the role of the Craft throughout its two centuries on Australian soil as a movement dedicated to discipline, duty, diligence, dignity and the democratic spirit in society.

Since the three types of Lodges came together in 1888 in what might be called High Victorian Sydney, what the intervening century has witnessed! Crowded years of transition, the years of greatest transition in the history of mankind. The fussy, unhurried, spacious Victorian era gave way to the streamlined helter-skelter of the twentieth century, with marvels of science and technology and volcanic eruptions of hatred and inhumanity.

What stand, you ask, did Masonry take on the changing issues and developing events of these hundred years? Strangely, or perhaps not strangely at all, Masonry continued on its regular pattern with apparent indifference to the events around it. Widely publicised statements, frantic lobbying, ringing resolutions – these were not the methods Masonry adopted. Indeed, the very nature of Masonry precluded such partisanship. It did not and cannot involve itself in political, religious or any other sectional concern.

Does that mean, then, that Masonry provided its members with a temporary escape from the real world, that it was merely, as some good-humouredly describe it, a mildly eccentric irrelevancy?

A superficial reading of the facts might tend to support that suggestion. During a Masonic meeting the door of the Lodge room is closed, and outside events cannot directly intrude (I will confess that, for me at least, it is a welcome by-product of being a Mason that when I am in Lodge I am free of the often persistent pest of the telephone). Masonic ceremonies remain constant, with hardly a change in phraseology or procedure, despite the passing decades.

But to look back on a century of drama on the world stage and to accuse Masonry of turning a blind eye and a deaf ear, of being indifferent to the world and its agonies and ecstasies – that would be a total travesty.

For Masonry made a statement of immense significance by standing firm on age-old moral foundations, planting its feet not on shifting sands but on the solid rock of abiding values. As the oldest and best known of the great fraternal organisations, it believed that the way to cope with the changing challenge did not require the frantic search for a guru, the desperate adoption of a slogan, the paralysed abdication of one’s own judgement and the toeing of a party line.

No; Masonry believed that with the right training you would instinctively know the way of duty, of service, of responsibility, wherever you found yourself. It sought to equip its members with a built-in moral compass that pointed them in the right direction and enabled them to make the right decision in any set of circumstances.

Why do some people view the Craft with suspicion or hostility?

Some of the reasons undoubtedly arise out of conviction and conscience, such as the fear that Masonry might be a rival religion and undermine the mainstream faiths. The truth needs to be restated time and time again, that whilst a Mason must believe in God, and the Bible and Biblical events, phrases and personages figure in our ceremonies, Masonry is not a religion. It has no theological tenets, no denominational liturgy or observances, and no authority over the spiritual life of its members; it encourages every Mason to follow the faith of his birth or adoption.

Others are apprehensive, as we certainly are, at acts and attitudes, especially in certain overseas countries, that purport to be carried out in the name of Freemasonry. With all the force at our command we have to voice our disapproval of and disassociation from political and other goings-on involving so-called Lodges with which we wish to have no connection.

Likewise, we cannot and do not agree with Masons having or being perceived to have an old-boy network of favouritism and preferment in professional, commercial or public life. Within the Lodge, one gains promotion solely on merit, and Masonry stands for the same principle in every arena of life.

Public perception of the Craft sometimes tends to take an ounce of fact and knead it with a pound of imagination. Because outsiders often had no real information about Masonry and no way of getting any, even from the books that claim to unlock the secrets of the Order, all sorts of bizarre activities were said to take place under our auspices. These days we ourselves have seen it possible to be much more open about Masonry; significantly, one of the Masonic lectures I am asked for most often is entitled “What I Tell My Wife About Freemasonry”. Instead of hiding our light under a bushel, today we feel relaxed about letting people know much more about what we stand for and what we contribute to the community.

Maybe a word is necessary about the range of Masonic charity in NSW, because we do a great deal and deserve to be proud of ourselves. Our charitable institutions and activities are, of course, available for the benefit of both Masons and non-Masons.

The Frank Whiddon Masonic Homes care for more than 1,100 aged people and there are plans for an additional) 146 units. The Royal Freemasons’ Benevolent Institution has granted millions of dollars in aid to deserving people. It has 745 aged residents and a further 340 will soon be cared for, and it provides financial assistance for 275 people. The NSW Masonic Youth Welfare Fund spends over $100,000 a year. The William Thompson Masonic School operates three family group homes. The NSW Masonic Hospital offers health care for 108 beds. The NSW Freemasons’ Disaster Relief Fund comes to the aid of victims of disaster. And individual Lodges, as well as the United Grand Lodge, support a multitude of other charities as well as assisting medical research. Masonry truly believes in its principles and endeavours to live by them.

Who knows how many thousands, how many hundreds of thousands, of citizens of this State have been Masons or have had their lives touched for good by Masonry? Masons can be quietly satisfied, not complacent because complacency leads to inertia and inanition, when they contemplate the pleasure Masonry has given them, the moral influence it has brought to their lives, the achievements of the Craft and its Lodges and Institutions, and the good citizenship it has consistently fostered, over the first as well as the second century of its existence in NSW.

It is valid reason for a celebration. Let’s congratulate ourselves. Let’s enjoy the birthday party.

But when you mark a birthday, you say two things – both “Happy Birthday” and “Many Happy Returns” – and keyed up, on a high as we are because of the “Happy Birthday”, we have to pick up the challenge and make the commitment to ensure there will be “Many Happy Returns” – a decade from now, in 50 years’ time, in another century, and far ahead into the future.

Our first commitment must be to make the most of Masonic membership. A Lodge is only as strong as its members. As someone said, a Lodge has two types of members – the pillars and the caterpillars. The pillars uphold the Lodge and keep it strong; the caterpillars simply crawl in and out once in a while.

We can all attend Lodge more regularly, become more active inside the Lodge room and outside it, daily advance in Masonic knowledge, generously support Masonic charities, and show a living example of brotherliness wherever we go.

Our second commitment must be to rebuild Masonic members. True, salesmanship and open solicitation of membership is not the Masonic way. But Masonry is good; let’s talk about it. There is really very little about Masonry that is private to Masons. Let’s be good Masons in ourselves, and let people know we are Masons. Many outsiders may not be comfortable with the type of commitment that Masonry and, for that matter, so many other worthwhile community organisations, requires – but there will be many who will feel that the Craft might well be for them.

There is a third commitment which I urge upon my brother Masons as well as upon myself. It is suggested by my title, “The Wrong Side of Right”.

Forgive the play on words, but there is something that I remember reading about a Wright – Wright with a “W”. He was Frank Lloyd Wright, the famous architect, whose home in Spring Green, Wisconsin, he dubbed “an eyebrow on a hill”. Wright is said to have had an acid temper and a biting tongue. People said, however, that to take too much noticed of his temperament was to see the wrong side of Wright. Such an architectural genius was he that the wrong side of Wright was not really so wrong when you remembered the right side!

The phrase stuck in my mind and it set me thinking. And then I came across a statement by Franz Werfel, the German writer. “The world,” he said, “has forgotten, in its preoccupation with Left and Right, that there is an Above and Below”. Left and Right continue, in varying ways and contexts, to be forces in modern history. But the word “right” has come, in recent decades, to assume the significance almost of a slogan, a catch-phrase, a war-cry. Today’s message is that people – even unborn children, even animals, even nature and the plant kingdom – have rights.

In the American Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson called human rights “inalienable rights”. A magnificent phrase: because one is human, there are inherent rights which no-one is entitled to diminish or destroy. Sir Robert Birley once described an occasion when he made telling, if somewhat facetious, use of the phrase. When he was headmaster of Eton and the boys had to attend church services, some of the teachers insisted that the pupils go straight into church without dawdling or chatting at the entrance. Birley could not shift their thinking until he thought up a good phrase. He said, “You know, in my opinion, it is one of the inalienable rights of man to stand and gossip outside his parish church!” The opposition collapsed at once! Totalitarian societies, as our century knows to its cost, cannot afford to recognise, encourage and uphold inalienable human rights. Our democratic ethos, by way of contrast, though it has not yet come within distance of Utopia, is based as a matter of philosophy and principle on human rights.

Every group claims its rights. Teachers, pupils, doctors, patients, teenagers, pensioners, aborigines, ethnic groups, unions, activists, women, single parents, students, tenants, homosexuals – the list is endless and expresses the diversity of our society.

But our agitation for rights does not always go hand-in-hand with carrying out our duties to society. Rights and duties are two sides of the same coin. If a sense of duty does not accompany and indeed surpass our insistence on our rights, we shall indeed have got the wrong side of right.

It has been pointed out that the Hebrew Bible, the historic foundation of the moral duties that underlie our western society, has many words for “duty” but not one for “right”, except in the sense of doing the right thing. It simply does not know of rights. That is, it demands that I willingly, lovingly, responsibly, do my duty to others, and when I have done that there will be no need for anyone else to claim what is due to him.

Everywhere you look today there is a sense of selfishness. The world owes me something! Society owes me a living! I’ve got my rights! The emphasis is all wrong – it’s the wrong side of right.

The result? Insatiable ambition, deep frustration, nagging dissatisfaction, festering discord, self-indulgence and any number of social diseases. The right side of right is service before self, and with uncanny accuracy that is one of the most important and indispensable planks in the programme of Freemasonry.

So, if we are going to pick up the challenge of our Masonic birthday, we would do ourselves and our civilisation a favour by relearning and reliving the principle of duties, not just rights – of service, not just self. We would become happier; our society would be more sane, stable and secure.

A preacher once served a large congregation which had the habit of attending church with great regularity. Indeed, to accommodate everyone, there had to be two services, one after the other. The trouble was that he was an immensely boring preacher and his sermons were long and rambling.

One day a visitor came up and asked him why the pulpit had a flag with stars on it. The minister explained that the stars were for the men who were lost in service. “Lost”, the visitor asked, “at the first service or the second service?”

In a sense, many people today are “lost in service” – that is, they have lost the concept of service in their lives. The have forgotten, in their preoccupation with the rights that the world owes them, that there are duties of decency and care and concern which everyone can carry out, and find exhilaration as a by-product of doing the right thing – not just wanting rights, but doing right.

As we celebrate the centenary of the United Grand Lodge of NSW and rejoice in two centuries of Masonic history on this continent, let’s wish each other and our movement a happy birthday. Let’s pick up the challenge and ensure there will be many happy returns. Let’s strengthen Masonry; let Masonry make us strong, and through us it will enrich the quality of our society.

May the Great Architect of the Universe continue to prosper our Order. May it flourish in brotherhood and charity, and help to make the world a finer and more brotherly place to live in.