WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE WRITTEN WORD?
by THOMAS C. WARDEN Member, Masonic Education Committee Grand Lodge, A.F. &
A.M. of Missouri.
Brother Warden delivered this timely speech at the
Midwest Conference on Masonic Education at Dearborn, Michigan in May, 1978.
It appeared as a feature article in the Summer, 1978, Edition of The Freemason,
official publication of the Grand Lodge, A.F.&A.M. of Missouri. We thank Brother
Warden for Permitting its use as a Short Talk Bulletin.
Scattered throughout the western plains of the United States, from Wyoming's
Bighorn Mountains northward and into Saskatchewan, Canada, are huge, elaborate
patterns traced out in stone. Some were built 5,000 years ago-when the
Egyptian pyramids were under construction--and others were laid out as
recently as 1,700 years ago.
Their origin and use was long a mystery. Of such is the substance of legends
. . . some of which even attributed these stone patterns to pre-Columbian
members of the Masonic Lodge.
Evidence now suggests that these "medicine wheels" (The National Geographic,
"Mystery of the Medicine Wheels," January, 1977.) --as they came to be
known--were a primitive but accurate means for marking the summer solstice: the
longest day.
Yet, in the recorded history of the American Indian, in this century and the
last, there is no mention of astronomical uses ever having been made of the
skies.
From the time of Coronado to that of Lewis and Clark, Indian history is
devoid of an explanation for these stone formations. But they assuredly exist,
they predate recorded history, and we know how they were used.
These rock formations are all relics of an Indian culture and heritage long
eclipsed and forgotten because, quite simply, there is no written language!
This, perhaps, is a forceful reminder that learning, without the benefit of
written words, is indeed a precarious, fragile and fleeting thing . . . that in
a few hundred years, knowledge without the written word can be forever lost.
There is a more contemporary parallel to this phenomenon, and it is found in
the early days of Freemasonry.
Worshipful Brother Harry Carr, of the Grand Lodge of England, in his eloquent
essay, "Six Hundred Years of Craft Ritual," outlines the futility of tracing the
early history of Freemasonry without adequate written records.
Brother Carr readily admits to the single flaw in his lecture: namely, that
he lacks the corroborating exhibit to seal his conclusions--the verifiable,
indelible written word.
He is 99 per cent certain as to Masonic origin, but--like a lawyer going into
court--he is armed with circumstantial evidence. He does not have that scrap of
paper which would seal his case.
Thus, early Masonic learning, not preserved by the written word, has--like
the Master's word--been forever lost.
And this brings us to the task at hand for those who profess interest in
Masonic Education.
Our nation at this very moment is precariously close to becoming a nation
of functional illiterates . . . people who have completed the educational
requirements of our society but who cannot read or write well enough to function
efficiently.
This not only strikes at the very heart of our Democracy, but it poses a
mind-boggling problem for those involved in education . . . be it public
education or -for our purposes -Masonic Education.
How do we impart our traditions and history --and yes, our ritual--to men who
can see but cannot understand, who perhaps can write but cannot comprehend?
Have no doubt about it, the destruction of our language can already be heard
in lodges across the land. The sharp corners of ritual are being rounded off.
How often, for instance, do you hear the word "Brethren" spoken "Brothern?"
This is just one small point, to be sure, but perhaps the long-range effect
of all this is to be found in what we speak of in whispered words --a decline in
fraternal membership!
Are potential members "afraid" to climb the steps of Freemasonry because of
the barriers imposed by language . . . barriers, I might add, that are raised by
illiteracy?
George Gallup, founder of the Gallup Poll, and a former teacher, is one of
those expressing concern about the decline in reading and writing skills in
the United States. He called the literary level a "national disgrace" and predicted that the decline in verbal facility could bring about a decline in the
intellectual level of the nation.
Grim predictions like Gallup's are based on concrete evidence. College
entrance scores have declined appreciably in the past half-dozen years.
Instructors increasingly deplore the lower level of reading and writing skills
in each new crop of college freshmen.
In an attempt to raise students to a literate level, English and journalism
departments are adding remedial courses in the basics: grammar, punctuation,
spelling, sentence structure, reading.
Gallup expresses doubt that "a generation raised in front of television sets
will be capable of performing the intellectual feats of earlier and more
literate generations."
It is disquieting, Brethren, to comprehend that in the United States the
median age is 28. Half of our people were born before 1950; the other half were
born after. In other words, half are substantially pre-television, half are
post-television.
Those of us in the pre-l950 generation are, in varying degrees, readers. The
post-1950 vintage American is a viewer, a listener, and predominately a
non-reader.
This carries profound implications for those of us who labor in the vineyard
of printed words, who attempt to convince viewers and listeners that the printed
word yet has merit.
Perhaps I should depart from our theme long enough to tell you that I am a
printer by trade, a newspaper journalist by profession, and a Freemason by
choice. You will detect a definite bias for the printed word, and a deep concern
for the future of Freemasonry, in what I have to say.
First let us look at some of the statistics, and then consider their
implications for the Masonic Fraternity.
Recent studies show that only 47 per cent of America's 17-year-edge can read
a traffic ticket. In a few years, some of these youngsters will be petitioning
Masonic lodges for membership.
And a 1975 United States Department of Education study revealed that more
than 23 million adults are "functionally illiterate." Some, no doubt, are
already members of the Fraternity.
Back to public education, which Freemasonry wholeheartedly supports. We
spend over $1,500 a year per student . . . yet the system does not teach him to
read, write, or do arithmetic.
Our high school graduates, in addition to 12 years in class, have logged
15,000 hours watching television . . . more time than they have put into
anything other than sleeping. They have seen 250,000 commercials and 18,000
killings, most in living color.
In Missouri last year, more than 80 per cent of the first students to take
all of the state's new basic skills test failed to pass at least one of the
three test segments. State officials have not determined the passing score for
the test, but 70 per cent has been frequently mentioned as a guideline.
Based on that, 83 per cent of the 175 eighth graders taking the test at one
school failed to pass at least one of the three test segments.
Dr. Ernest L. Boyer, U.S. Commissioner of Education and a former university
professor and administrator, said it best: "The safest thing one can say about a
college diploma today is not that it signifies educational achievement, but
rather that its holder probably has been around the campus for about four years.
Beyond that, everything is uncertain."
This is in full agreement with a 14-year national decline in scores on the
Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT). Average scores in the verbal sections have gone
down 49 points. Dr. William Kottmeyer, a prominent St. Louis educator and
author-in-residence at McGraw-Hill, Inc., sounded an even more serious note by
calling the falling SAT scores "an ominous indicator. "
The only way a democracy can exist, he warned, "is if you have free access to
information . . . (for) the ability to take information from the printed page
is the tool of freedom."
This is what we face, Brethren: an increase in illiteracy, a decrease in
respect for and use of the printed word. If you can believe what some of these
respected individuals say, even our democracy stands in jeopardy.
What has happened to the word? Need we, as Masonic educators, be concerned if
reading and writing skills decline?
I should hope that a few persuasive voices will say "yes"!
Right Worshipful Brother Stanton T. Brown, Grand Lecturer of the Grand Lodge,
A.F. & A.M. of Missouri, had this to say about ritual and how it must resist
attempts to chip away at its perfectional usage:
"Many ritual-thinkers within Freemasonry have sought to modernize its formal
structure and language to conform to today's society. Their work poses one
question: Should Freemasonry be made over in the image of today's society or
would today's society be the better if it were to re-cast itself in the mold
used successfully by Freemasonry for more than 250 unbroken years?"
What my Brother from Missouri is saying to ritualists holds true for
educators also. For he has, in my view, answered his own question: Society would
be substantially more secure if it could recast itself in the mold used
successfully by Freemasons for two and one half centuries.
Ritual has been the fabric of Freemasonry throughout these two and a half
centuries; the written word is the sinew--the thread--that has held it together.
If Freemasonry comes apart at the seams, it will be because the written word
has disintegrated. And the written word, Brethren, is disintegrating.
The trend can be turned around; it will not be easy.
Change must be effected in the public school system that we as Freemasons
hold so dear. It thus behooves all of Freemasonry not to yield another iota in
the disintegration and destruction of the English language, and this can be
done by individual and collective efforts to upgrade educational standards as
educator standards.
We hold this power of change in the ballots we cast at school elections and
in the persuasive voices heard at parent-teacher organization meetings. As
citizens, we must elect people who subscribe to the theory that reading and
writing shall once again be among the supportive pillars of an education, and we
must endorse curriculums and programs designed to accomplish that goal.
Change must also be effected within the boundaries of our Fraternity. And
that is where we, as Masonic educators, face a monumental challenge.
Problems plaguing the ritualists are vexing for educators as well. Brother
Brown tells me that the ritual in Missouri contains some 22,000 words. And this
poses another question: Should the ritualists re-write our ceremonies to please
a less literate generation so they can comprehend what those 22,000 words mean?
Hopefully, not!
Or should we, as Masonic educators, redouble our efforts with initiates so
they will be better prepared to travel the road that awaits them in the temple?
Hopefully, yes.
It is in this particular regard that due caution is needed. The audio-visual
trend in schools has snowballed to the point that many students have permanently
dilated pupils as a result of spending too much time watching slides and films.
Masonic ritual relies upon mouth to ear, as does Masonic education to some
extent. But the preponderance of our responsibility -our Masonic tradition,
heritage, history--is essentially and necessarily dependent upon the written
word. For the most vivid memory pales by comparison to the faintest ink on a
printed page.
Our excursion down the celluloid trail of educational aids needs to be
tempered with the realization that slides and films cannot ideally replace
the knowledge that can be imparted mouth to ear, and via the indelible, lasting
printed word.
If this trend toward quick and easy leaning is disquieting, so is a notable
departure from the power of brevity that we find all too frequently among those
of us entrusted with Masonic education.
Perhaps in our eagerness, we are also boring and verbose. I have been to
meetings of Masonic educators that, frankly, left me weary and wondering . . .
weary of meaningless, meandering dialogue, and wondering how we have managed lO
attract members to our Fraternity, if indeed we can lay claim to that
accomplishment.
Brother Samuel Clemens, the world knows him as Mark Twain, said it best: "Few
sinners are saved after the first 20 minutes of a sermon."
If we must contend with less literate initiates as a result of an educational
system gone astray, must we also frighten them by talking too much and too long
about things irrelevant and of peripheral significance to the goal of preparing
them for the ritual, and afterwards, of continuing their enlightment?
Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, The Lord's Prayer, and the Twenty-Third Psalm
are three of the great literary treasures venerated by mankind. And not one of
them is as long as 300 words.
Never have the powers of brevity been so demonstratively illustrated as in
these classics of word construction. So much is said with so few words.
If we can find moral messages in the working tools of an Entered Apprentice;
in the pillars, the globes, the winding stairway of a Fellowcraft; in the hour
glass, the scythe, and the all-seeing eye of the Master Mason, I would hope
that we might also perceive warnings from the destruction of the written and
printed word, from the synthetic lure of quick and easy knowledge proffered by
photographic imagery, from the deception that brevity has no power, no place in
the educational process.
Masonic education faces many challenges, but the rising level of illiteracy,
undeniably, is the most complex, the most serious of them all. Reading, writing
and literary understanding are at the very heart of our fraternal existence.
And it is beyond comprehension that one day hence, a distant generation will
wonder about the strange patterns--the square and compass --that they find on
the cornerstones of an ancient civilization's ruins.
Will Freemasonry, like the medicine wheel of the early Plains Indians, become
a relic of a culture long eclipsed and forgotten, simply because no written
record exists? The printed word will cease to exist in just a few generations of
illiterates.
"Preposterous!" you say. Is it? The same thing almost happened to Freemasonry
600 years ago, though the ritual survived when written records did not. But our
early history was irrevocably lost.
I am reminded of the words written by the Greek tragic poet Aeschylus
who--2,000 years ago--intoned, "So in a Libyan fable it is told, that once an
eagle, stricken with a dart, said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft, 'With
our own feathers, not others' hands, are we now smitten' . "
Brethren, I suggest that it is not cowans and eavesdroppers that threaten
from without; we threaten ourselves when we condone the destruction of the
written word. By our own inaction, not by others' failings, are we being
smitten.
Dash 30 dash, -30-, is a newsman's indenture for the end of a news story. I
have spoken for almost 30 minutes and thus it is fitting that I stop. While my
words may end here, I hope my thoughts will tease you into reappraisal and
renewal of Masonic education's ways and means and goals, for the betterment of
the Fraternity both you and I hold so dear.
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