The Sanctity of Reason

We have Freemasons in the family. Not my generation. (Um… not that I know.) But the light-blue apron I discovered in a dusty trunk decades ago is tangible proof that, once upon a time, my family was on the inside. We knew people. Also, presumably, stuff. Secret stuff.

Alas. I’ve yet to hear any revelations about the meaning of the eye in the pyramid or the current resting place of the Holy Grail. I haven’t received even a minute of coaching for any time-hallowed rituals. (Not unless that coaching was subtly concealed within episodes of ‘Hee Haw’ and ‘the Lawrence Welk show.’)

None of this stopped me from enjoying the first hundred pages or so of the loopy, shaggy-dog silliness of Robert Anton Wilson’s Illuminati books, wherein much is made of a purported connection between the Knights Templar, the Freemasons and the Founders of this country. (I finished the books. I just didn’t enjoy much past the first hundred pages. Ymmv. Also: Fnord.)

In an era when respect for the men and women who founded the United States borders on hagiography, I think it’s important to recognize that Washington, Jefferson, Franklin et al were a quirky and very human bunch. They weren’t saints. They had weird fascinations, flaws and obsessions, to be sure. But I tend to believe that the Freemasonry of the Founders’ era had more to do with giving people an excuse to socialize than anything more devious. People are awful at keeping secrets, and worse at working together amicably. I don’t doubt that conspiracies have been launched every few minutes throughout the whole of human history. I just struggle to believe many survive a single week, never mind many generations.

Oddly, no one in my family seems to know what happened to that trunk I opened, or the Masonic gear I examined. The house where I found the trunk was sold, and I’ve heard conflicting accounts of what happened with the contents. So-and-so thinks there was an auction. Another source reports that anything salvageable was donated to the Salvation Army and the rest thrown away. I’m certain that one of those two explanations is the right one.

Well. Almost certain, anyway.