The other night at lodge, the District Education Officer stood and started speaking about membership numbers for our fraternity. He had done some research about the district’s lodges, and pointed out that my lodge had numbered 208 brethren amongst its ranks in 1975. He didn’t know the current numbers, but as secretary I was able to inform him and the other members of our lodge that we currently have thirty-eight members, of which number about fourteen attend regularly and another three or four semi-regularly. The others we never see, primarily because they live out of town. Needless to say the brethren were a tad shocked.
A conversation then broke out about the reasons for our declining membership, and the reasons men join and then disappear so quickly.
Many of the brethren stood and said their piece, and I was truly impressed with the way so many of them spoke from the heart. These brethren truly care about the state of our beloved fraternity, and it grieves them mightily to see so many empty seats in lodge night after night. They don’t understand why men aren’t flocking to the craft they love so dearly, and they can’t figure out why people don’t stay once they’ve joined. From my vantage point they are pretty much like every other dedicated Mason in North America today – full of angst about the decline in membership and our inability to stem the tide.
Some of the brethren talked about why they come to lodge themselves; others spoke about the boring meetings. Some pointed out that we’re not the only organization experiencing the decline; others noted that membership is cyclical, and one day we could expect a turnaround. Some spoke about possible strategies for curtailing the decline; others about ways to grow membership.
In short, while the discussion was heartfelt and fulsome, it was pretty much a re-hash of every conversation about membership that I’ve been a part of for the past 22 years, and I’m willing to bet good money it’s the same conversation most Freemasons in North America have experienced repeatedly for at least two or three decades.
Now, it is certainly not my intention to be dismissive of what was said, or to belittle in any way whatsoever those who spoke. I have the utmost respect for my brothers, and in many ways I share their concerns. I’ve offered my two bits on the subject repeatedly over the years, and most of it has followed the same line. I’ve tried to analyze and rationalize the decline in membership, I’ve suggested ways to bring in new members, and I’ve asked that ubiquitous “what are we doing wrong” question so many times it makes me sick to my stomach to hear it.
Not my problem
So often have I spoken on the subject that I know the District Education Officer was certain I was going to stand up and give the boys another pep talk, or make some suggestions, or offer some wise words on the subject. In fact, he asked me at one point to say a few words. I refused and instead, for a good 15 or 20 minutes, I just listened. Finally, when a lull in the conversation presented itself I stood to offer my thoughts. I think I caught them all off guard by what I had to say.
I started off by saying that if the non-Masons of the world couldn’t see what a great organization Freemasonry is, it wasn’t my problem and I really didn’t care.
Needless to say, the surprised looks on the faces of my brothers were somewhat comical.
I told them that when I had joined Freemasonry it was for life, because the only way to get anything out of the order was to be in it for the long haul. I stated that I had intended from the very beginning to see it through to my death – through the ups and downs – and that if some men joined with any other intention in their heart and mind, then it wasn’t my problem.
As I spoke, I could see some of them just staring at me, completely gob smacked, but I was just getting started.
I said that those who complained about boring meetings were missing the point; that it wasn’t a meeting I was attending but an opportunity to join with the men I admire, like and trust most in this world, and a chance to come together with the truest friends I will ever have. I stated that if those who quit because meetings are boring couldn’t see that, then it wasn’t my problem and I wasn’t going to lose any sleep over their ignorance.
I talked about how Freemasonry was my retirement plan. Not in the financial sense, naturally, but from the viewpoint of having a place to be and go when I finally quit working. I mentioned that one day, assuming my wife dies before I do, those brethren would be the comrades of my old age when I needed someone the most. I also said those who couldn’t see such a magnificent opportunity for their own lives weren’t my problem.
I spoke in this fashion for a good five to ten minutes, and finally concluded by saying that I was no longer going to lose sleep worrying about men who couldn’t see the light about Freemasonry.
I told the brethren that all the angst we’ve felt about the question of membership over the years really wasn’t worth it to me any more, and that I was no longer going to feel bad about something I really have no control over.
I said that if others couldn’t or wouldn’t recognize the great opportunity Freemasonry affords them, it really wasn’t my problem.
By the time I was finishing up I could see some of the heads around the room bobbing in recognition of what I was saying. They may even have been agreeing with me, but I won’t be so presumptuous. Some were still looking rather perplexed, if not downright shocked, as I’m pretty sure nobody had ever spoken to them in such a fashion in lodge before. For me, however, it had been downright cathartic.
Okay, I really do care
Now, I have to admit – and I did tell the brethren this at that meeting – that I really do care about the state of my lodges and the membership. I mentioned that my presentation had been designed to drive home a point, and that I didn’t want them to think I was being flippant.
I truly do believe we’ve spent far too long on navel gazing and breast-beating where membership is involved. I think it’s time to stop, so we can spend more time being the best damned Masons we can be. Quality attracts quality, and I believe our biggest responsibility to the Craft is to preserve and nurture it until the time arrives when the good men we want in our organization realize that what they’re missing in life is everything that true Freemasonry has to offer.
I firmly believe that day will come, and when it does we must be ready. We must be in a position to give those men the opportunity we currently cherish. To ensure that happens is most definitely my problem.