Recently one of our Masonic Districts gifted me a statue. It depicts a man holding tools of Masonry, and utilizing those tools to carve himself out of rock.
This image alludes to a great and ancient philosophical truth; that through continued self improvement, man can work towards his own perfection. This is a great quest, a Masonic quest. An endeavor to which an entire lifetime can be devoted. Using the working tools of Operative Masonry, symbolically, to polish his own character, the Speculative Mason can, and should, continually travel down that rough and rocky road on his individual quest towards perfection.
Alexis de Tocqueville wrote of this concept, as it related to the American experience, in his seminal work On Democracy In America:
“Equality suggests to the human mind several ideas which would not have originated from any other source, and it modifies almost all those previously entertained. I take as an example the idea of human perfectibility, because it is one of the principal notions that the intellect can conceive, and because it constitutes of itself a great philosophical theory, which is every instant to be traced by its consequences in the practice of human affairs. Although man has many points of resemblance with the brute creation, one characteristic is peculiar to himself—he improves: they are incapable of improvement. Mankind could not fail to discover this difference from its earliest period. The idea of perfectibility is therefore as old as the world; equality did not give birth to it, although it has imparted to it a novel character.
When the citizens of a community are classed according to their rank, their profession, or their birth, and when all men are constrained to follow the career which happens to open before them, everyone thinks that the utmost limits of human power are to be discerned in proximity to himself, and none seeks any longer to resist the inevitable law of his destiny. Not indeed that an aristocratic people absolutely contests man's faculty of self-improvement, but they do not hold it to be indefinite; amelioration they conceive, but not change: they imagine that the future condition of society may be better, but not essentially different; and whilst they admit that mankind has made vast strides in improvement, and may still have some to make, they assign to it beforehand certain impassable limits. Thus they do not presume that they have arrived at the supreme good or at absolute truth (what people or what man was ever wild enough to imagine it?) but they cherish a persuasion that they have pretty nearly reached that degree of greatness and knowledge which our imperfect nature admits of; and as nothing moves about them they are willing to fancy that everything is in its fit place. Then it is that the legislator affects to lay down eternal laws; that kings and nations will raise none but imperishable monuments; and that the present generation undertakes to spare generations to come the care of regulating their destinies.
In proportion as castes disappear and the classes of society approximate—as manners, customs, and laws vary, from the tumultuous intercourse of men—as new facts arise—as new truths are brought to light—as ancient opinions are dissipated, and others take their place—the image of an ideal perfection, forever on the wing, presents itself to the human mind. Continual changes are then every instant occurring under the observation of every man: the position of some is rendered worse; and he learns but too well, that no people and no individual, how enlightened soever they may be, can lay claim to infallibility;—the condition of others is improved; whence he infers that man is endowed with an indefinite faculty of improvement. His reverses teach him that none may hope to have discovered absolute good—his success stimulates him to the never-ending pursuit of it. Thus, forever seeking—forever falling, to rise again—often disappointed, but not discouraged—he tends unceasingly towards that unmeasured greatness so indistinctly visible at the end of the long track which humanity has yet to tread. It can hardly be believed how many facts naturally flow from the philosophical theory of the indefinite perfectibility of man, or how strong an influence it exercises even on men who, living entirely for the purposes of action and not of thought, seem to conform their actions to it, without knowing anything about it. I accost an American sailor, and I inquire why the ships of his country are built so as to last but for a short time; he answers without hesitation that the art of navigation is every day making such rapid progress, that the finest vessel would become almost useless if it lasted beyond a certain number of years. In these words, which fell accidentally and on a particular subject from a man of rude attainments, I recognize the general and systematic idea upon which a great people directs all its concerns.
Aristocratic nations are naturally too apt to narrow the scope of human perfectibility; democratic nations to expand it beyond compass.”1
If Freemasonry implores us to continually strive towards perfection, what are some of the forces that encourage us to abandon this quest?
Laziness. The statue I received depicts a man working. Working hard in order to carve himself out of solid rock. Freemasonry, and the quest towards perfection, calls upon us to labor. To do the mental work necessary in order to continually improve ourselves. We can all fall prey to laziness, to putting off until tomorrow the intellectual and moral work that we need to be doing today. Our Craft’s traditional use of memento mori symbolism, and it’s strict terms of office, both serve to teach us the dangers of procrastination and laziness.
Fear. Self improvement requires change, and the idea of change can strike fear in the hearts of men. But such fears are not healthy for us, nor should we give into them. If our feet are firmly placed upon the path that leads to immortality, if we have done our part to improve ourselves, and improve the world around us, well then we have nothing to fear, for we can confidently know that we will live on.
As our Brother Albert Pike said long ago:
“What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.”2
Bad Association. When each of us were children, it is quite likely that our mothers told us at some point that we would be judged by the company we keep. This homespun wisdom is certainly true. If we are seen by others to be surrounding ourselves with bad men, well then we will be perceived to be a bad man. If we surround ourselves with ner’ do wells, we will be judged to be likewise. This judgement persists through the generations because it generally holds true. If we surround ourselves with men who focus their lives on the satisfaction of brute pleasures, or accept their lot as fixed, in time we will imperceptibly begin to adopt their attitudes and outlooks, no matter our intent to do otherwise. This is why Freemasonry avowedly seeks to initiatie only good men and give them the tools to become even better men. It has never sought to initiate bad men in an effort to reform them into good men.
No Association. Each man’s quest towards perfection of the self is an individual quest. The labor he must do to polish his character is by definition individual labor. But, he need not be alone while traveling this path. He can make his efforts easier by associating with other men who are seeking to do the same work. He can be encouraged by seeing, with his own eyes, examples provided by other men who are further down the path than he is himself. This is why Freemasonry, from its very origin, has been a social activity. Not only a philosophy and a way of looking at the world, but an association of men, each striving towards the same goal.
There are of course as many roadblocks on the path towards individual perfection of character as there are men in the world. Those I list are simply examples that rise to my mind based on my own observations.
Whatever roadblocks we encounter as Freemasons are there for us to overcome. By doing so we become stronger and we move down the path towards that house not made with hands.
The perfectibility of man is an ennobling aspiration.
Freemasonry gives us symbolic tools that help us embrace it.
If you have enjoyed this essay, will you consider forwarding it to your Masonic friends or sharing it on Social Media?
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/816/816-h/816-h.htm
https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/albert_pike_101379
This could be used as a topic during a "Master's Moment" in Lodge! I will suggest it to our Worshipful Master.
Like "This image alludes to a great and ancient philosophical truth; that through continued self improvement, man can work towards his own perfection. This is a great quest, a Masonic quest."
You hit the nail on the head, on what a Mason is about, and the art piece is the perfect representation of this. A quote from Samael Aun Weor that sums up the pathway to perfection is this: The greatest joy for the Gnostic is the discovery of some of his defects." The definition of Perfection is 'the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from flaws or defects.' Defects are products of negative characteristics we all have, thereby we all have an individual path to walk and overcome. This is common to Joseph Campbells 'a Hero's Journey,' or Carl Jung's shadow self. Furthermore as in your illustration the chiseling away from matter (the rock) is the self made man. The journey is inward and the place we face our own defects or devils. As understood from ancient writings such as in the book 'Le Comte of Gabalis,' the devil is dark thoughts or desires, Satan is the manifestation, and Lucifer is the Light Bringer, who sheds light, that these defects brings no satisfaction and a sin against God. Some may perceive the Lucifer as the Christ within. This inner light or self-cognizance, shows our defects keeping us chained to the prison of matter. Once we become aware of our defects, we are given the opportunity to restore the Temple, not made with hands, that is ourselves and our quest.