St. John’s Day Observance

Brethren, this evening we were to be joined by a local minister.  I am sorry to say that due to scheduling conflicts he will not be able to join us this evening.  I welcome you all here and hope that this program will have a lasting impression upon your mind during this joyous season.

(1) OPENING SCRIPTURE
As we have come together to observe St. John the Evangelist’s Day; I believe it is fitting to start with one of his best know passages, John 3:16.  Please assume an attitude of prayer.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.”

 Amen

(2) OPENING SONG
Please join together as we sing the first verse of "We Gather Together."  You will find the words located on the back of your programs.

(3) HISTORICAL LECTURE
Our historical lesson this evening is a combination of several Masonic presentations about St. John the Evangelist and the celebrations of St. Johns days.  Please enjoy.

On or about the twenty-seventh day of this month; Freemasons, throughout the world, will assemble to celebrate the festival of one of our patron saints, the loving Evangelist. In the earlier history of the Craft, Freemasons were especially remarkable for their observance of these anniversaries. A hearty appreciation of the full significance attached to them, made the times and seasons, the new moons and the full moons, the solstices and the equinoxes, occasions not merely for the interchange of fraternal greetings, but opportunities for the acquisition of solid Masonic knowledge, and for the cultivation and strengthening of those great precepts of Freemasonry; Brotherly Love, Relief and Truth.

There is no proof, of course, that St. John the Evangelist was ever functional Patrons of our Fraternity, and they most certainly was not an Operative or Speculative Mason, but it is a fact that Freemasonry has adopted him as Patron Saint for several centuries. Legend has set December 27th as St. John the Evangelist's “birthday” and history depicts him as an introvert and a man of thought, meditation, and vision. John the Evangelist was a Galilean, and the cousin of Jesus. In his early years, he was impulsive, impetuous, and vindictive as evidenced by the time he wanted to call down fire from Heaven. During that period of his life, the Christian Master called him and his brother, James, the “Sons of Thunder”. In his later years, his disposition mellowed, and he became known as the Disciple of Love or, in Masonic terminology, “Brotherly Love.”

It is known that John the Evangelist wrote one Gospel, three Epistles and the book of Revolations. For those that are members of the Eastern Star, it is interesting to note that his Epistles were written to an “Elect Lady” who later became Electa in the Eastern Star ritual. Many Masonic scholars hold that the Gospel of St. John is of vital importance to all Freemasons – not for its Christian theology -- but for the lessons of Brotherly Love that are contained therein.

The original reason for the choice of this particular Patron Saint has been obscured by the passage of time. We cannot determine exactly why our ancient Brethren chose him or St John the Baptist rather than St. Thomas, a stonemason.  An old Latin document of our Order deposited with a Lodge in France, includes a proclamation of the Masons of Europe assembled at Cologne in 1535. It declares that Masons were called, "Brethren dedicated to St. John, first among the stars of the morning.” It further tells us that prior to 1440, the Fraternity was called the “Joannite Brothers” (John’s Brethren). It was about at that same time that we began to be known by the name, “Free Masons”.

The Theological Virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity – normally represented as the top three rungs on Jacob’s Ladder in Christian religious art -- are mentioned in our rituals. Thomas Paine, a Freemason, wrote in the following in his book entitled, “Origin of Freemasonry”:

“The high festival of the Masons is on the day they call St. John's Day, but every enlightened Mason must know that holding their festival on this day has no reference to the person called St. John, and that it is only to disguise the true cause of holding it on this day that they call by that name. As there were Masons many centuries before the time of St. John, the holding their festival on this day refers to a cause totally unconnected with either of the Saints John.”

Many of Freemasonry’s most knowledgeable scholars believe that the real explanation of Freemasonry's connection with the Holy Saints John Festival Days is not to be found in the history of the Craft – but, rather, in the history of ancient religions. These festival days are as old as the ancient systems of worship of fire and Sun. The greatest manifestation of nature known to our ancient ancestors was the Sun. It was always present during the day, and its near kin, fire, warmed and comforted them at night. Under its gentle rays, crops grew and rivers rose. The Sun kept away the wild beasts by its light. Sun worship and fire worship were just as natural for men just struggling into understanding, as was the breath they drew. Early man must have observed the Sun's slow movement from north to south during the year and back again as the seasons waxed and waned. Therefore, Midsummers’ Day, the longest in terms of Sunlight, became a festival; it was the harbinger of life, just as the Winter Solstice was significant of the end of the slow decline of the Sun.

Technically, we now know that the seasons of the year are caused by the 23.5º tilt of the Earth's axis. Because the earth is rotating like a top or gyroscope, it continuously points in a fixed direction toward a point in space near the North Star. However, the Earth is also revolving around the Sun at the same time. During half of the year, the Southern Hemisphere is closer to the Sun than is the Northern Hemisphere. During the rest of the year, the reverse is true. At noontime in the Northern Hemisphere, the Sun appears high in the sky during Summer and low in the sky during Winter. These two extremes are referred to as a “solstice.” Primitive man did note the change in the Sun’s movement as evidenced by astronomical observatories, such as Stonehenge on the plains of southern England.

"Solstice" is derived from two Latin words: "Sol" meaning, “sun”, and "sistere" meaning, “to cause to stand still”. The lowest elevation occurs about December 21st and is the Winter Solstice -- the first day of winter when the nighttime hours (darkness) are at a maximum and the period of sunlight is at its minimum.

In ancient Egypt, for example, the god Osiris died and was entombed on December 21st and reborn on December 25th. In the earliest days of Ancient Greece, a man was selected to be a representation of the god Dionysus during the Feast of Lenaea (Festival of the Wild Women). It was on that day of the Winter Solstice that Dionysus died and was then resurrected on December 25th. During the festival, the man being “honored” was literally torn to pieces, and the pieces were then eaten by the women.

By classical times in ancient Greece, the human sacrifice had been replaced by the killing of a goat. The goat later became the symbol for Capricorn. In Astrology, December 27th, St. John the Evangelist’s Festival Day falls under the zodiac sign of Capricorn (December 22nd – January 19th).

Ancient Rome had dozens of gods for every purpose imaginable. By 300 BCE, the Roman Empire had combined the festivals for those gods under the name of “Dies Natalis Solis Invicti” ("Birthday of the Unconquered Sun"). This was a weeklong festival commencing on December 21st and ending on December 27th with the main feast day taking place on December 25th. It was a feast honoring the renewal of the Sun at the Winter Solstice. It included feasting, dancing, lighting bonfires, decorating homes with greens, and the giving of gifts – much like the traditions of our present-day Christmas season. Virtually all of the so-called ancient pagan religions included the nativity, death, and rebirth of a “man-god/savior”, and then the ascension of the resurrected to “heaven” where he watched over his flock while they were here on Earth. It was, in fact, the story of the nativity, death, and resurrection of the Christian Master – and it was thousands of years old before the birth of the Christian religion. This ancient legend can be traced back to at least 6500 BCE.

The early Church wanted these pagan festivals stopped, but they were very popular with the people. The solution to the problem was simple; substitute Christian meanings and Saints for pagan gods on these holidays and continue to celebrate the same ceremonies on the same dates – but under a different name. The Church felt that including this holiday into Christian observances would eventually convert those who followed the “Olde Way”. The selection of December 25th as a Christian holiday was first recorded in scholarly texts in 325 AD, although the actual practice was first decreed in 274 A.D. by the Emperor Aurelian. Since non-Christians viewed this date as the rebirth of the Sun, it made perfect sense for the Church to also mark this period as the celebration of the nativity of Yeshua ben Nazareth (Jesus). If the Church could not replace pagan holidays and celebrations, it would simply adopt them and incorporate so-called pagan symbolism into its own.

Therefore, the celebration of the Summer Solstice became the Festival of Saint John the Baptist and the celebration of the Winter Solstice became the Festival of Saint John the Evangelist. The High Festival Day of the Romans became the birth date of the Christian Master.

However, it took centuries for the tradition of St. Johns’ Days and Christmas to catch on. For example, it was adopted in Ireland in the 5th century AD; the 7th century in Eastern Mediterranean countries; Austria, England and Switzerland adopted them in the 8th century; and the Slavic countries in the 9th and 10th centuries.

St. John the Evangelist teaches us to subdue our passions, one of the first lessons every new Freemason learns in Lodge. When we examine the writings of St. John the Evangelist, we see a major transformation of a young man. He goes from being a hot-tempered young radical to one who exhibits peace in his old age. He goes from being intolerant of others to working with others by sharing his theology of a “better way of life”. Above all things, John was loyal. He was the only Disciple to attend the trial of Jesus as well as being at the foot of the cross for the crucifixion. When he heard about the empty tomb on that eventful Sunday morning, he was the first Disciple to arrive. Moreover, it was he that took Mary, the mother of Jesus, into his home and cared for her until her death.

We know from the writings of St. John the Evangelist that his message is simple and straightforward -- that to know and love God is to obey His law, that the essential mark of grace is Brotherly Love, and that the ideal life is to live in fellowship with others.

It does not matter that there is no, nor never was, a Lodge of the Holy Saints John at Jerusalem. It does not matter whether the two Saints John were actually members of the Masonic Fraternity. They were selected as our Patron Saints because they exemplified the basic principles of our ancient Fraternity in their daily lives through their words and deeds. It is because Freemasonry regards the character and internal qualifications of a man that the two Saints John are fitting Patrons. Freemasonry honors them because they were living examples of the Golden Rule and their practice of love for their fellowmen, and their love of their Creator.

(4) SECOND SCRIPTURE
Our second scripture reading this evening comes from the Book of John, Chapter 15 verses 12-14:

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.  You are my friends if you do what I command.”

(5) SECOND SONG
Please join us now as we sing the first verse of "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee."  The words can be found on the back of your program.

(6) CHRISTMAS TRUCE
And now Brother Patrick Smith, our Senior Warden, will present a historical presentation about the Christmas Truce of World War I.

My brothers, the following story was first printed in Australia’s School Magazine, Apr. 2001, by Aaron Shepard.  Please enjoy.

The Christmas Truce of 1914 was called by Arthur Conan Doyle, “one human episode amid all the atrocities.” It is certainly one of the most remarkable incidents of World War I and perhaps of all military history. Inspiring both popular songs and theater, it has endured as an almost archetypal image of peace. Starting in some places on Christmas Eve and in others on Christmas Day, the truce covered as much as two-thirds of the British-German front, with French and Belgians involved as well. Thousands of soldiers took part. In most places it lasted at least through Boxing Day (December 26), and in some through mid-January.

Perhaps most remarkably, it grew out of no single initiative but sprang up in each place spontaneously and independently. Although the following letter is fictions; it is based on two historical accuracies. First, many common soldiers took part in it and few officers opposed it. Second, most soldiers, especially British, French, and Belgian, remained determined to fight and win.

Sadly, there are some misconceptions about this truce. First is the Christmas Day games of football—or soccer, as called in the U.S.—often falsely associated with the truce. The truth is that the terrain of "No Man’s Land" ruled out formal games—though certainly some soldiers kicked around balls and makeshift substitutes. Another false idea about the truce (which was held even by most soldiers who were there) is that it was unique in history. Though this Christmas Truce is the greatest example of its kind, informal truces had been a longstanding military tradition. During the American Civil War, for instance, Rebels and Yankees traded tobacco, coffee, and newspapers, fished peacefully on opposite sides of a stream, and even gathered blackberries together. Some degree of fellowship feeling had always been common among soldiers sent to battle.

Of course, all this has changed in modern times. Today, soldiers fight at great distances, often with the push of a button and a sighting on a computer screen. Even where soldiers come face to face, their languages and cultures are often so diverse as to make friendly communication unlikely.

No, we should not expect to see another Christmas Truce like this one, yet still what happened on that Christmas of 1914 may inspire the peacemakers of today—for, now as always, the best time to make peace is long before the armies go to war.

A Letter Home:

Christmas Day, 1914

My dear sister Janet,

It is 2:00 in the morning and most of our men are asleep in their dugouts—yet I could not sleep myself before writing to you of the wonderful events of Christmas Eve. In truth, what happened seems almost like a fairy tale, and if I hadn’t been through it myself, I would scarce believe it. Just imagine: While you and the family sang carols before the fire there in London, I did the same with enemy soldiers here on the battlefields of France!

As I wrote before, there has been little serious fighting of late. The first battles of the war left so many dead that both sides have held back until replacements could come from home. So we have mostly stayed in our trenches and waited.

But what a terrible waiting it has been! Knowing that any moment an artillery shell might land and explode beside us in the trench, killing or maiming several men. And in daylight not daring to lift our heads above ground, for fear of a sniper’s bullet.

And the rain—it has fallen almost daily. Of course, it collects right in our trenches, where we must bail it out with pots and pans. And with the rain has come mud—a good foot or more deep. It splatters and cakes everything, and constantly sucks at our boots. One new recruit got his feet stuck in it, and then his hands too when he tried to get out—just like in that American story of the tar baby!

Through all this, we couldn’t help feeling curious about the German soldiers across the way. After all, they faced the same dangers we did, and slogged about in the same muck. What’s more, their first trench was only 50 yards from ours. Between us lay No Man’s Land, bordered on both sides by barbed wire—yet they were close enough we sometimes heard their voices. Of course, we hated them when they killed our friends. But other times, we joked about them and almost felt we had something in common. And now it seems they felt the same.

Just yesterday morning—Christmas Eve Day—we had our first good freeze. Cold as we were, we welcomed it, because at least the mud froze solid. Everything was tinged white with frost, while a bright sun shone over all. Perfect Christmas weather.

During the day, there was little shelling or rifle fire from either side. And as darkness fell on our Christmas Eve, the shooting stopped entirely. Our first complete silence in months! We hoped it might promise a peaceful holiday, but we didn’t count on it. We’d been told the Germans might attack and try to catch us off guard.

I went to the dugout to rest, and lying on my cot, I must have drifted asleep. All at once my friend John was shaking me awake, saying, “Come and see! See what the Germans are doing!” I grabbed my rifle, stumbled out into the trench, and stuck my head cautiously above the sandbags.

I never hope to see a stranger and more lovely sight. Clusters of tiny lights were shining all along the German line, left and right as far as the eye could see.

“What is it?” I asked in bewilderment, and John answered, “Christmas trees!”

And so it was. The Germans had placed Christmas trees in front of their trenches, lit by candle or lantern like beacons of good will.

And then we heard their voices raised in song. Stille nacht, heilige nacht . . . .

This carol may not yet be familiar to us in Britain, but John knew it and translated: “Silent night, holy night.” I’ve never heard one lovelier—or more meaningful, in that quiet, clear night, its dark softened by a first-quarter moon.

When the song finished, the men in our trenches applauded. Yes, British soldiers applauding Germans! Then one of our own men started singing, and we all joined in. The first Nowell, the angel did say . . . .

In truth, we sounded not nearly as good as the Germans, with their fine harmonies. But they responded with enthusiastic applause of their own and then began another. O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum . . . .

Then we replied. O come all ye faithful . . . .

But this time they joined in, singing the same words in Latin. Adeste fideles . . . .

British and German harmonizing across No Man’s Land! I would have thought nothing could be more amazing—but what came next was more so.

“English, come over!” we heard one of them shout. “You no shoot, we no shoot.” There in the trenches, we looked at each other in bewilderment. Then one of us shouted jokingly, “You come over here.”

To our astonishment, we saw two figures rise from the trench, climb over their barbed wire, and advance unprotected across No Man’s Land. One of them called, “Send officer to talk.”

I saw one of our men lift his rifle to the ready, and no doubt others did the same—but our captain called out, “Hold your fire.” Then he climbed out and went to meet the Germans halfway. We heard them talking, and a few minutes later, the captain came back with a German cigar in his mouth! “We’ve agreed there will be no shooting before midnight tomorrow,” he announced. “But sentries are to remain on duty, and the rest of you, stay alert.”

Across the way, we could make out groups of two or three men starting out of trenches and coming toward us. Then some of us were climbing out too, and in minutes more, there we were in No Man’s Land, over a hundred soldiers and officers of each side, shaking hands with men we’d been trying to kill just hours earlier!

Before long a bonfire was built, and around it we mingled—British khaki and German grey. I must say, the Germans were the better dressed, with fresh uniforms for the holiday. Only a couple of our men knew German, but more of the Germans knew English. I asked one of them why that was.

“Because many have worked in England!” he said. “Before all this, I was a waiter at the Hotel Cecil. Perhaps I waited on your table!”

“Perhaps you did!” I said, laughing.

He told me he had a girlfriend in London and that the war had interrupted their plans for marriage. I told him, “Don’t worry. We’ll have you beat by Easter, then you can come back and marry the girl.”

He laughed at that. Then he asked if I’d send her a postcard he’d give me later, and I promised I would.

Another German had been a porter at Victoria Station. He showed me a picture of his family back in Munich. His eldest sister was so lovely, I said I should like to meet her someday. He beamed and said he would like that very much and gave me his family’s address.

Even those who could not converse could still exchange gifts—our cigarettes for their cigars, our tea for their coffee, our corned beef for their sausage. Badges and buttons from uniforms changed owners, and one of our lads walked off with the infamous spiked helmet! I myself traded a jackknife for a leather equipment belt—a fine souvenir to show when I get home.

Newspapers too changed hands, and the Germans howled with laughter at ours. They assured us that France was finished and Russia nearly beaten too. We told them that was nonsense, and one of them said, “Well, you believe your newspapers and we’ll believe ours.”

Clearly they are lied to—yet after meeting these men, I wonder how truthful our own newspapers have been. These are not the “savage barbarians” we’ve read so much about. They are men with homes and families, hopes and fears, principles and, yes, love of country. In other words, men like ourselves. Why are we led to believe otherwise?

As it grew late, a few more songs were traded around the fire, and then all joined in for—I am not lying to you—“Auld Lang Syne.” Then we parted with promises to meet again tomorrow, and even some talk of a football match.

I was just starting back to the trenches when an older German clutched my arm. “My God,” he said, “why cannot we have peace and all go home?”

I told him gently, “That you must ask your emperor.”

He looked at me then, searchingly. “Perhaps, my friend. But also we must ask our hearts.”

And so, dear sister, tell me, has there ever been such a Christmas Eve in all history? And what does it all mean, this impossible befriending of enemies?

For the fighting here, of course, it means regrettably little. Decent fellows those soldiers may be, but they follow orders and we do the same. Besides, we are here to stop their army and send it home, and never could we shirk that duty.

Still, one cannot help imagine what would happen if the spirit shown here were caught by the nations of the world. Of course, disputes must always arise. But what if our leaders were to offer well wishes in place of warnings? Songs in place of slurs? Presents in place of reprisals? Would not all war end at once?

All nations say they want peace. Yet on this Christmas morning, I wonder if we want it quite enough.

Your loving brother,

Tom

(7) CLOSING SCRIPTURE
Thank you Brother Smith. My brethren, this final scripture is now written by the great evangelist St. John.  It however does speak to the spirit of the season.  While it may be new to some of you, others will recognize it from the ritualistic work of several appendent bodies. Please listen closely to a reading from First Corinthians, Chapter 13 verses 1-7:

 “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Faith, Hope and Love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is Love.”

(8) MUSICAL SELECTION
Please enjoy a musical selection from the A Cappella group Straight No Chaser singing “Auld Lang Syne.”  Please feel free to join in, the words are located on the back of your program. 

(9) CLOSING PRAYER
Before we depart, let us have a closing Prayer.  This is an adaptation of the opening section of Third John.
Please assume an attitude of Paryer.

“Supreme Architect of the Universe, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with those assembled, even as their souls are getting along well. It gives me great joy when believers come and testified about their faithfulness, telling how they continue to walk in it.  I have no greater joy than to hear that they are walking in the truth.  We are faithful in what we are doing for our brothers and sisters, even though they are strangers to us and to your righteousness.  My Brothers, the Lord knows about your love.  We ought therefore to show hospitality to all people so that we may work together for the charity of the Lord.”

Amen.

And now may the piece of the Supreme Architect of the Universe be with you and all those who you come in contact with this season now and through the coming year.  Safe travels and thank you for coming out this evening.