Brethren, I now present to you the Working Tools of the Festive Board. They are the Fork, the Knife, the Spoon and the Glass. And unlike the three Working Tools we see in our Lodge, at the Festive Board there are four, which tells you everything you need to know about our priorities.
The Fork is a most useful implement, which may be placed in the hands of even the most inexperienced Mason (following, we hope, his training and his exaltation from the high chair) to enable him to secure the most succulent morsels, sometimes by reaching across the table, and those delicate and crafted bonnes bouches which decorate and adorn our Festive Board, to delight the eye and stimulate the jaded appetite. Or at least, that is what the brochure for this hotel promised.
The Fork is also employed to convey the appropriate portions to that aperture specially designed to receive them, and so reduces all nourishment to a common level, just as the Brethren at the Festive Board, having laid aside their aprons, meet as one brotherhood upon the level.
The Fork is commonly furnished with four prongs, representing the four Cardinal Virtues we bring to Freemasonry:
– Prudence, that we may judge wisely and look before we leap;
– Temperance, that we may practise moderation in all things (the cheese course excepted);
– Fortitude, that we may endure adversity and stand firm against all challenges, including the speeches; and
– Justice, that we may be fair and impartial in all our dealings, and especially in dividing the last of the roast potatoes or the spare dessert.
The Fork should never be loaded to excess, lest it obstruct that flow of eloquence which should at all times be the distinguishing characteristic of a good Freemason, for restraint at the table, like restraint in life, is the mark of a true Brother.
When overturned, the fork’s four prongs represent the four Guiding Principles of the Craft.
The first is Integrity: we are honest in our thanks for the feast before us, trustworthy towards our fellow Masons, and confident that our Fork will, in most cases, convey its cargo dependably to the mouth.
The second is Friendship: the building of lifelong bonds and mutual support, particularly that support required after the Festive Board on the staggering, but determinedly straight, route to the taxi home.
The third is Respect: valuing every Brother whatever his background, and maintaining harmony regardless of the discussions that may have taken place over the port.
The fourth is Service: giving our time, skills and resources to our communities and to charity, just as the Fork faithfully serves us at the Festive Board, except, of course, when it comes to peas.
In this sense, the Fork teaches the Freemason that he should not simply sit and wait for the things he desires, but should reach out, secure and retain them, and so profit by his opportunity. So too should we take the knowledge and fortitude taught by Freemasonry, and bring to our fellow man new knowledge and opportunity, which in turn bring to us the reward we deserve,
……despite the best efforts of the Inland Revenue Services.
Nor should we forget that the little things in life, like the peas upon our plates, must be carefully looked after, lest they elude our grasp and be lost forever beneath the table.
AND In certain Brethren, it must be said, the Fork appears to serve chiefly the dry cleaning industry, judging by the steady flow of food down the front of their white shirts or ties.
Finally, the prongs of the Fork, standing parallel and joined in one common purpose, remind us that in Freemasonry, all Brethren are equal and mutually assist one another, and that we should stand shoulder to shoulder with one common aim, the betterment of the Craft, practising those great qualities which Freemasonry teaches and which cannot be too strongly recommended.
In short, the Fork represents the Worshipful Master: undoubtedly the most essential tool in both the Lodge and the Festive Board, and, given my earlier remarks about the shirt front, a particularly apt comparison.
The Knife, when properly sharpened, reminds me of the Treasurer’s tongue when subscriptions become overdue.
At the Festive Board it is used to bring crude matter into due form, just as Freemasons bring the rough ashlar to the smooth, and just as the chef (and I use the word advisedly) has transformed various carcasses and vegetables into the tasty morsels the menu so confidently promised. Whether he has succeeded, Brethren, I leave to your own judgement.
The Knife assists us in dissecting the anatomy of the chicken, even one of the venerable vintage of the Worshipful Master. It allows us to divide our food into proper portions fit for reception, just as we must divide our time between labour and rest, and between the claims of home, work, rest and of Freemasonry. Freemasonry not being “rest” as there’s always someone, it seems, trying to persuade you to learn yet more ritual.
The Knife points out to us the value of being industrious rather than indulgent, for as it must be kept sharp and in good condition to cope with the problems that confront it (though hopefully not tonight’s beef), so are we taught to keep our mental faculties sharp, that we may meet all things with fortitude and, with the support of our Brethren, stand firm when life turns against us.
Moreover, it teaches us life’s most important lesson: never to cut more than we can chew, but to limit our desires in every sphere of life, so that, rising to eminence by merit, we may live respected, always have something left for another day, and die with nothing regretted.
The Knife is indeed best kept sharp, but as honourable Freemasons we are reminded that a knife, like the tongue, should be used only where necessary, for this is a friendly Lodge.
……And we might add a quiet prayer that our good ladies at home may one day exercise the same restraint, although experience teaches us that, unlike the Knife, their sharpness never seems to blunt with use.
The Spoon is the gentlest of the four tools, for it has neither the keen edge of the Knife nor the piercing prongs of the Fork, and may therefore be safely entrusted to the newest Entered Apprentice, and even, once the third bottle has made its way down the table, to the Director of Ceremonies.
It is employed to convey those liquid and semi-liquid offerings, the soup, the gravy and the custard, which would otherwise slip through the prongs of the Fork and defy the edge of the Knife. So it is in Freemasonry, where there are some lessons that cannot be seized by force or cut into shape, but must be gently gathered and patiently received.
The Spoon represents our Preceptor and the Lodge of Instruction, where the ritual is spoon-fed to us a mouthful at a time, week after week, until even the most reluctant Brother can deliver it without a prompt, or at least with no more than three, except for the Junior Deacon who I’m reliably informed can actually count to at least four.
Its bowl is hollow, teaching us that a Freemason should keep room within him to receive the wisdom of others, for a vessel already full can take in nothing more (a lesson, Brethren, which applies equally to the second helping of pudding).
And as the bowl gathers, so it must also give, reminding us of our Charity Steward, who quietly stirs the conscience of the Brethren and gathers in, spoonful by spoonful, often without the aid of thumb-screws, borrowed from the Treasurer, those generous contributions which are then poured out for the relief of those in need.
Look into the bowl of a well-polished Spoon and you will see your own reflection, upside down. Thus the Spoon teaches us humility, for however high we may rise in the Craft, even unto the purple, we should remember that from another angle we may look entirely ridiculous. Certain Past Masters, I am told, avoid polished spoons altogether.
And the own reflection, upside down reminds us that however affluent we may be now, fortunes can turn, so that we should give generously whilst we can, so that if ill-fate arrives, we can draw upon that charitable and reliable chest that we ourselves have helped fill.
The Spoon also calls to mind our Treasurer, for no Festive Board and no Lodge meeting is complete without a little stirring, and it is well known that the Treasurer always knows exactly where the sugar is kept, and who has taken more than their share.
Moreover, it teaches us that not all men are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and that in Freemasonry no man is measured by his birth or his fortune but by his conduct. The humble stainless steel spoon of this establishment (which, I note, bears the name of a different hotel/which I note that they’re too tight to have engraved) serves the Grand Officer and the newest Initiate equally well.
Finally, Brethren, the Spoon reminds us to know our proper measure. The teaspoon, the dessert spoon and the tablespoon each have their place, and a wise Mason does not attempt his soup with a teaspoon, nor stir his coffee with a ladle. So should each of us know our station, act within our ability, and always leave room for pudding.
The Glass enables us, with accuracy and precision, to ascertain and determine the quantity of liquor most conducive to the preservation of our genial joviality, a skilful Craftsman generally measuring his tot by the two or three finger rule, or, in the case of the Director of Ceremonies, the two or three fist rule.
But as we are not here assembled as Speculative Masons, but rather as Operative, or more accurately Hungry and Thirsty, Masons, these tools are delivered to us as vehicles of moral instruction, and thus we apply them.
The Glass teaches us the necessity of moderation in all things. For, like life itself, it bears no graduated scale, and so each user must exercise his own judgement as to the quantity required, taking care not to exceed the limits of his internal economy, just as in our daily toil and family life.
It shows us that a Glass will hold only a certain quantity without detriment to its surroundings, and so reminds us that our fellow man has only a certain measure of tolerance and patience (I do hope the Chancellor is listening as he writes his next Budget). We must therefore take care to avoid overflowing, whether into unseemly hilarity, into the confusion of our mental and physical faculties, or (Chancellor!) into the burdens we place upon others.
And just as the perfect Glass rings true whether empty or full, so should the perfect Mason ring true after his labours at the Festive Board. A cracked Glass is despised and rejected by all men.
Thus the Working Tools of the Festive Board teach us to bear in mind, and act according to, the cordial counsels of Prudence and Temperance, so that when we are summoned to drink the Junior Warden’s Toast (assuming he has not once again fallen asleep, or participated so fully that he has quietly sunk to the carpet beneath the table), having partaken of all the good things the South has provided, we may rise and depart on our homeward way with the gratifying testimony of a contented mind and an equally clear head.
Which reminds me of a Freemason, a relative of mine, who was making his unsteady way along a pavement in Tavistock at about a quarter past nine one evening, when he very nearly fell into the arms of a policeman of similar vintage. “Good evening, sir,” said the policeman, who knew him well as the town’s one and only tailor. Spotting the Masonic case, and being a Mason himself in a neighbouring town, he asked, “And where are we off to tonight?”
“A lecture on Freemasonry!” came the rather unsteady reply.
“Well, sir,” said the policeman, “I think I had better come with you.”
Being a wise soul, and judging discretion the better part of valour, the policeman steered his charge home instead, knowing that the tailor and his wife lived above the shop. Some thirty minutes later they reached the door, and as the policeman rang the bell, he saw lights coming on and the wife coming noisily down the stairs. “I’m not sure you’ll make that lecture on Freemasonry tonight, my friend,” he said.
As the policeman walked back down the hill, he heard the reply: “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that, officer. The lecture on Freemasonry starts in less than one minute when she gets to the door!”
By W Bro Nick Lockett (L4806/L1772/L4164)