Embarrassment: A feeling of self-consciousness, shame, awkwardness, or uneasiness.

Often a Worshipful Master ponders on how to engage the Brothers and increase attendance during Lodge meetings. The Master looks for what helps the Brothers engage and participate in Opening and Closing the Lodge, learn, and ask questions about subjects we do not know much about. Despite his efforts, however, many fail to come to the next meeting by giving one reason or another. Then he wonders again: what it is that deters them?

Well, there is this thing called embarrassment. Embarrassment, in its own many forms in everyday life, prevents us from getting engaged in the Lodge’s ritual, especially when we are not fully prepared. We feel others will judge us in a negative light. I can say that, as a Mason, I try not to judge others, or even myself. But in reality, I do- often very subtly. In fact, I am my own worst critic when it comes to my lack of knowledge of Ritual.

Now, I will not be talking about the Brother who is asked to take a part well in advance, as in the case of the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd Degree, or even when asked to take a Station well in advance. They should be learning the part and arrive knowing the part.

Rather, I will concentrate on the situation when a Brother fails to attend a meeting, and at the very last minute, someone else is asked to do it, or "voluntold" to do it. At the end, I will offer a long term solution as well.

Having said this, the question is how do we overcome this feeling of embarrassment so we can feel comfortable in coming and participating in the ritual at our next meeting?

First, our gut reaction is that we do not volunteer to take a position we may not know, especially when we are asked to do so at the last minute. We become adamant that we do not feel good about taking on this challenge, and if pressed, we get angry, embarrassed, and not show up at the next meeting.

Photo: Brothers from Norseman Lodge No 878, Manhattan, New York, at their 2026 Installation of Officers.

Preferably, we learn Rtual and move on. But let us be clear and honest here — if we chose this, we would all be proficient in Ritual and we could be called upon anytime without feeling embarrassed.

Sadly, I have observed that not going to the Lodge for the next meeting is frequently more likely to happen. If we do not go, we do not have to experience the embarrassment. And we have legitimate reasons as to why we "need" to miss a meeting or two. I won’t go into the excuses I have heard, or the ones I have given, because I don’t want to give anybody any more ideas.

So, here are some of my suggestions to help prevent this embarrassment from happening when we show up at a meeting and we are asked, at the very last minute, to take over for another Brother who has not shown up. Before I begin, let me point out that my suggestions, as follow, may not be liked by many. I understand that. There are pros and cons in implementing them. I understand that. All I am asking for is for you, the reader, to keep an open mind as to what I am about to suggest, and I thank you in advance for doing so.

First and foremost, it ensures that the Brother feels that he matters, and that the other Brothers understand this predicament, make changes accordingly to meet his needs, and will not judge him negatively for his lack of knowledge.

Second, it boosts his confidence and gives him a sense of personal achievement because he was able to help. Morale goes up.

Third, he is LEARNING the part as he reads it.

Now, reading from the Riutal Book offers its own challenges if the Brother does not know the part. In the Grand Lodge of New York, Our Standard Work and Lectures are written in cipher. This can be problematic; if they don’t know a part, and they have not looked at it in advance, chances are the cipher will be of little use. I have experienced this as well when the Worshipful Master asked me to read a part I had no clue about. Now, I feel even more embarrassed because now I am asked to read from a book I was taught to read.

Allow me segway for a moment: there are Brothers who want to help by correcting the other Brother during the Opening or Closing, or any other Degree work, without being asked to help. This "help" indirectly points out the other’s flaws in front of others (sometime I fall into this category, and I keep working on it). This leads to more frustration and embarrassment. Then there are those who want to help but have the incorrect information. This may prompt a third party to jump in and correct them, and in turn, correct the one who is asking for help. It leads to confusion, frustration, and more embarrassment for all parties involved.

To combat this issue, I say this: Unless you are asked to help by the Brother in question, or the Worshipful Master, DO NOT DO SO. The Brother can ask for help himself from anyone beforehand, and can signal he wants the help with a nod of the head, by looking up, by taking a long pause, waive of his hand, or by any other means as agreed upon before he takes the role.

If you, as the one who has not been chosen to help, still want to help, consider taking him aside after the meeting, but not in front of others.

Option B: Have the part written in plain English.

Now, before anyone starts saying what our obligation state that we cannot have any part of the ritual written anywhere where a non-Mason can read it. Remember, we have the Riutal Book in cipher that we take home, outside of the Lodge. And some parts are indeed written in plain English. I fail to see why this is ok while having the ritual parts written in plain English to help a Brother participate is not.

Photo: Installation of Officers at King Solomon-Beethoven Lodge 232, Manhattan, New York.

If the parts are written in plain English, they should be kept with the Worshipful Master, who will distribute them only during the meeting as necessary. Additionally, as long as the written part stays within the Lodge Room, and not taken outside, it will be ok unless the Worshipful Master says otherwise (in which case I believe it is erroneous to do so, but…). And I am not talking about having the entire Ritual Book rewritten in plain English — just the most common parts (as in each station and place for opening and closing the Lodge) so that the Worshipful Master can virtually ask anyone not fluent in the part to take over at the last minute, and not necessarily only those who know the part by heart. Let me emphasize, that the Worshipful Master runs the Lodge and it is up to him how to proceed in this matter having taken into consideration the current situation at hand in his Lodge.

Having said this, here is my reasoning behind having the part written in plain English. When the one, who is voluntold to do a part, knows he can read it in English, he is going to feel more confident about volunteering to do the part; he does not feel embarrassed; he gets thanked for taking up the role at the last minute; and his morale and confidence is boosted. And most importantly, he may be enticed to learn the part by heart as he reads it. End result, he will be encouraged to attend the next meeting, and the next, and so on. He knows we have his back.

I must offer a caveat; we must avoid creating an expectation that the Brother will be allowed, or to expect he can read the part in every meeting. Our objective is to learn the part by heart, and understand what the part is about. We must be very careful in stressing to all the Brothers that this is a temporary learning aid in an emergency situation, and will not happen every time we have a meeting.

At every other Lodge meeting we can have a Learning Hour where we dedicate this time to learning Ritual the right way, with the right words. This means using the Riutal Book to read each part, to see if we are doing it correctly, even if we think we already know it. This, in its own right, does three things: One, we actually learn how to read the cipher, and learn the ritual. Second, this allows us to auto correct ourselves when we think we know the part, but actually don’t. Third, and most importantly, it creates an environment where learning is expected rather than embarrassing because:

• Nobody should be afraid of making a mistake when learning.
• Nobody should be afraid of asking questions.
• Nobody should be afraid of saying "I do not know."

Remember, we are here to help one another to become a better man — not to make one feel embarrassed.

In conclusion, I propose three things:

1. If a Brother does not know the part and is called to do the part anyway, let him read it from the Riutal Book.
2. If appropriate and permitted within the Lodge, have commonly used parts available in plain English.
3. Every other meeting, open and close the Lodge with the Riutal Book opened and spend time learning the ritual together.

If we implement these options, I believe we can reduce the fear of embarrassment, encourage Brothers to participate, and create an environment where learning is something we do together. Because, at the end of the day, we should never allow embarrassment to become the reason we stop coming to the Lodge.

Editor's note:  September 11, 2001 is a day that carries a unique meaning in the heart of every New Yorker. Whether you were born in the Bronx, have spent a summer on Long Island, visited Niagara Falls, hiked the Catskills or Adirondack Mountains, or found yourself in awe of the marvels of nature across the Empire State; 9/11 is one day, every year, that brings all of New York and the World together. As we mark the 25th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, we gather as men and Masons to unite in grief, reflection, and deep appreciation for the men and women who lost and made the ultimate sacrifice to protect our way of life.

NEVER FORGET!

A poem by: VW Daniel J Martin

Smoke billows soaring,

Fire trucks a-roaring,

Jet fuel a-pouring,

Our innocence lost.

Fists clenched in anger,

Imminent danger,

Hugging a stranger,

A line has been crossed.

The anger,

Confusion,

The hatred,

The love.

All our hopes,

And our prayers,

To our God,

Above.

We’ll never forget:

Our Firemen,

Policemen,

Countrymen,

We lost.

Our Soldiers,

Our Sailors,

Our Airmen,

Who fought.

Our freedom,

Our future,

All their blood,

Has bought.

I have been thinking about the Lost Word in Freemasonry differently lately. What began as a curiosity about one of the central stories of the Craft has gradually become a way of thinking about grief, loss, and what remains when something important has been taken away. The more I explored the ritual, the less convinced I became that the Word itself was ever truly lost. Perhaps what was lost was something more subtle: the relationship, context, harmony, and connection that allowed the Word to be known.

There is something strange about calling the Word lost when Solomon, Hiram King of Tyre, and Hiram Abiff had all encountered it. If all three had heard it, surely something of it remained. Perhaps the tragedy was that the pieces could no longer be brought together. The Word existed, but the relationship that gave it meaning had been ruptured. In that sense, the story resembles grief. When someone we love dies, what is lost is not necessarily everything that person gave us. Their voice may remain in our memory. Their lessons remain. Their gestures, humor, habits, and influence remain within us. What disappears is the living relationship itself. We can remember someone, but we cannot recreate the exact relationship we once had with them.

This raises another possibility. Perhaps the original Word was never something any one person possessed completely. Perhaps what was lost was the illusion that there was a final Word that could be held, preserved, and passed down unchanged. The substitute then becomes much more interesting. It is not simply an inferior replacement for something perfect. It is what can be given after the original circumstances have been destroyed. It allows the journey to continue without pretending that nothing happened.

That is remarkably close to the experience of grief. We often want to recover what we lost exactly as it was. We want the person back, the relationship back, the old life back, the certainty back. But grief eventually confronts us with a difficult truth: what was lost cannot simply be restored. Something new has to emerge from what remains. The substitute is not the original, but that does not make it meaningless. It may be the form that meaning takes after loss.

How The Five Points of Fellowship are used to convey this meaning is even more striking. The substitute is not simply announced to the individual as information. It is communicated through relationship, closeness, and direct human contact. It is something one Brother gives to another. Perhaps that is why it feels less like the delivery of a secret and more like an act of consolation. When we are grieving, we rarely need an explanation that solves everything. We need something that allows us to take the next step. We need another person who can stand beside us and speak to the part of us that has been wounded.

This also changes how I think about the idea of the Word as the marrow of the bone. Marrow is what remains when everything else has been stripped away. It evokes the question that grief eventually asks: after everything has been removed, what remains? When the familiar structures of life disappear, when certainty is gone and the future cannot be reconstructed, what is still there?

Perhaps grief is partly the process of discovering that answer.

The darkness surrounding the Lost Word can therefore be understood differently. Darkness is not necessarily proof that something has gone wrong. It is the condition in which we are forced to stop relying upon what we previously saw and begin to discover what exists beneath it. Loss changes our perception. It takes away familiar reference points and leaves us searching. In that search, we may discover that some things we believed were essential were never essential at all, while other things we barely noticed were carrying us all along.

This is why I have begun to wonder whether the Lost Word is actually a symbol of something that cannot be lost. The circumstances surrounding it can disappear. Our understanding can break apart. Relationships can be ruptured. Certainty can vanish. But something remains beneath all of that. The substitute does not recreate what was there before. It reveals what can still be carried forward.

Perhaps that is the deeper meaning of grief. We do not overcome loss by recovering the past. We learn to carry what remains into a future that will necessarily be different. Memory becomes part of that carrying. Love becomes part of it. The lessons of the person we lost become part of it. Even the pain becomes part of the story, not because suffering is inherently valuable, but because it marks the place where something mattered deeply.

Perhaps that is why the Lost Word remains such a powerful symbol. It does not promise that grief will restore what we had. It offers something quieter. After the loss, after the darkness, after the searching, something remains. We may not recover the past, but we can discover what is still worthy of carrying forward.

I recently finished Jerred Moon's book Killing Comfort. Moon argues that comfort serves as the primary catalyst for mediocrity. His thesis is direct: while consistency is vital, relying solely on familiar routines yields marginal results and traps organizations. At best, comfort eases you into mediocrity. At worst, comfort destroys your progress.

This mindset is missing across many Masonic Lodges. For our Fraternity, the comfort trap shows up in our strategic and operational planning. Lodges repeat the same annual dinners, standard educational lectures, and copy-paste fundraisers simply because that is how we have always done it. Over time, this passive reliance on routine breeds member apathy and operational stagnation.

The Intentional Pursuit of Discomfort

To break this cycle, Lodges must adopt what Moon terms the intentional pursuit of discomfort. Growth does not stem from chaotic overhaul. It comes from deliberately selecting challenging situations that drive development.

For Lodge officers, this requires auditing event schedules to identify where comfort disguises itself as efficiency. We must ask hard questions: Are activities planned out of genuine engagement, or because they demand minimal effort?

Replacing passive planning with intentional discomfort means taking calculated risks across three key areas:

• Elevating Fraternal Education: Move beyond reading short papers. Host debate-style symposiums and real-world leadership workshops that demand critical thinking.
• Reimagining Community Engagement: Shift from passive donation drives to hands-on service projects that challenge members to work side by side.
• Executing Strategy with Grit: Apply the discipline of Aviate, Navigate, Communicate. Prioritize core Lodge objectives, map actionable milestones, and keep the Brethren aligned throughout execution.

True Masonic growth demands that leaders stop chasing ease and start pursuing purposeful friction. By stepping out of predictable planning habits, a Lodge revitalizes its culture, sparks genuine engagement, and delivers value to its members. Comfort offers predictability, but discomfort builds lasting vitality.