The Virtue of Industry

The Virtue of Industry

In the modern era, we hear the word “industry” and tend to think of large brick buildings, chimneys billowing smoke, workers trudging in through large iron gates to manipulate gears and cogs to produce… something. We might think more progressively of large steel buildings of assembly lines of safety-goggle-bedecked workers, busily whirring a drill gun or acetylene torch as some piece of car-part moves slowly towards its birth. We have to thank the industrial revolution for the transformation of industry from something denoted a type of work to something that denoted a much larger vision of work itself. 

The term “industry” was first noted in the Middle Ages in France, coming from the Latin industria, which means “diligence, purpose.”  Mackey noted in his Masonic Dictionary, that the “Medieval Freemasons thought much about and had a wide knowledge of the forms of work. There are some fifty-two of these.” Mackey goes on to reflect that Industry is different from industry, in that industry is just one of the forms of work, “it being the most dramatic, but not the most important.” He provides examples of other forms of work, such as the worker who collects all the important bits and puts them together to produce a “thing,” or the assembly line type of producing goods. Industry, with the lowercase “i” is, to quote Mackey again, “industry was the employment of a very large number of men, tens of thousands in many20-Aerial-view-of-Industrial-Roubaix-ca-1900-650x551 instances, on one undertaking at one place and at the same time, and they might or might not use machinery.” In other words, a factory is industry but building a skyscraper is also “industry.”

Industry with the capital “I” is more in keeping with the idea of “diligence” and “purpose.” Much as there is a difference between a virtue and Virtue, there appears to be a difference between industry and Industry. It’s funny that sociologically, we classify societies as either “pre-industrial” or post-industrial. Whenever a place has an “industrial revolution,” which usually indicates the influx of machinery to replace human work of hands, we call that an “industrial society.” This may not be incorrect; yet, it smacks of some kind of idyllic life, lazily milking cows, getting up with the sun and sleeping at sunset. It seems to reflect a more pastoral, almost aristocratic sort of life prior to the onslaught of manufacturing as a way of life. A pre-industrial life was generally agrarian and had limited production, with artisans crafting limited items over longer periods of time. In general, communications took place within smaller communities, and villages were far more common than today’s large city and urban living. One might automatically assume a feudal society, with a Lord providing shelter and protection to his subjects, and his subjects providing him the substance to live. While this is true for a good deal of the European Middle Ages, that is only a small part of human history. Even after the advent of the creation of “cities” 10,000 years ago, humans have, for the most part centered around their small community, generally never being bothered by outside events.

To think that this way of life did not have industry is backward; however, it appears that they had was far more Industry than post-Industrial Revolution humankind. There is a certain value in working hard and achieving success into which we put physical labor. Horace said “life grants nothing to us mortals without hard work.”  We often speak that platitude to our children or co-workers without really understanding that hard work is more than just “working a lot.” Thoreau “wished to suggest that a man may be very industrious, and yet not spend his time well.” While Thoreau might have been hinting at more of the “purpose” side of Industry, Horace is leaning more toward diligence. They both have one thing in common: the influence of Industry on the human psyche and perhaps, soul. [As a weird aside: an interesting definition of courage is “learned industriousness.”]

One of the most interesting, and perhaps hard to grasp, ideas that we should understand is that the concept of “work” is a fairly modern Western invention. Most cultural and social anthropologists today note that modern people tend to see work as something that obtains value, or has a “yardstick” attached to it, as Erik Schwimmer notes. However, ancient Greek and Roman authors, such as Cicero (Officiis), Xenophon (Cyropaedia), and Horace (Odes),  looked at work in more moral and political terms; anyone who would be part of an “industry” for a salary or specie was little more than a slave and not ever worthy of  citizenship status. However, if you worked on your own farm or in your own workshop, and brought those goods to the benefit of the community, were seen as an industrious person, a hard worker, and one whose work should be praised. Traders who brought far off goods to the community, and traded them for the communities goods were praised as industrious and good. While the origin of wealth via industriousness was important, it was where that wealth was applied that made all the difference. Community was everything, as was the freedom of depending on others to provide for family. From the time of Ancient Greece to Medieval Europe, very little had changed, save for the advent of larger cities. Still, the agrarian “industriousness” held true.

While working for the wealth of the community and not having to depend on others for your livelihood might seem at odds, they are not. Interestingly, the Freemasons utilized the symbol of the beehive for just such a concept, and Lodges work mainly in the same format. An interesting article on the Beehive in Freemasonry, reprinted from a Masonic research society (AQC, 1923) is located here, on the Grand Lodge of British Columbia and Yukon’s website.  While the concept industry and the beehive (and their associated bees) may seem to some a Christian or Mormon symbol, its use denoting “Industry” appears to date back to ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome.

Like a beehive, a Freemasonic Lodge is a community of people who have gathered and work for common purpose: to continue to provide an opportunity for others to enjoy Freemasonic teachings. Through diligence, purpose, and Industry, the group prospers. The wealth of the Lodge, the knowledge and learning of working together – is the honey of the beehive. This honey is shared in the community; thus, by diligence and purpose is individual, and his connections, nourished. Another aspect of this beehive concept is that while the individual may gain “wealth” from his Freemasonic work, it is not the reason that the group works together. In other words, the question is not what the Lodge and Freemasonry will do for you – it is what do you, the diligent and purposeful worker, bring to Freemasonry? The bees do their work, reflective of their offices and attention to the quality of the work, and the whole is rewarded. This is not an easy concept for our modern minds, which have been trained to that work is “trading time for money” or “talent for money.” Work is drudgery and work is mundane. Perhaps what we modern humans should focus on is the idea of Industry, not of industry. Perhaps our ancestors were not so off base when it came to the virtue of Industry.


For the reference on Erik Schwimmer, please go to this link: http://ehrafworldcultures.yale.edu/ehrafe/citation.do?method=citation&forward=browseAuthorsFullContext&id=oj23-027 . Referenced 4/2/2017 

Further interesting information about workers in the ancient world can be found in the article, “Workers of the Ancient World: Analysing Labor in Classical Antiquity,” by Arjan Zuiderhoek, found in Volume 1 Number 3 2013 of the WorkersOfTheWorld international journal. This can be referenced on Academia.edu.

Legacy

Legacy

The human condition: it is “the characteristics, key events, and situations which compose the essentials of human existence, such as birth, growth, emotional nature, aspiration, conflict, and mortality.” One key element was left off this Wikipedia definition: creation. Humans were born to create. We die hoping we have created enough. Humans were born to build, adjust, renovate, improve, birth, tend, cultivate – to create.

This might be a general assumption of the readers here, but we are all searching for the meaning of life. Why are we here? If you’re Neil Peart, the answer is “because we’re here. Roll the Bones.” If you’re Jung, it’s to “realize a vision.” The Bible (Isaiah 43:7) tells us that the purpose of man’s existence is to “glorify God.” Pain, frustration, weakness, and chaos seem to all stem from a lack of purpose in our lives, or a not having a goal towards which we strive. We come to the World’s Table with expectations, complications, and baggage. By the time we’re ready to create something, we stumble. What are we doing here on Earth, at this time and place? We have way overthought the question. Our purpose is to create. It really is that simple.

All of the examples above can all be distilled to creation. From babies to businesses, from community to chaos to cash reserves – humans cannot help but build something. Even if it’s a stack of beer cans beside the couch while we chill, we’re building. Our minds want to make things better, bigger, faster, higher, more pleasing, more chaotic, different, and new. We build better drugs, faster cars, and higher buildings. Think carefully, when are you *not* creating? Even your body is creating while you sleep.

A recent conversation with some friends involved discussing the attributes of avatars, archetypes, and virtues. This was in conjunction with a question posed to an audience: Do you want to be (a) God? What an audacious question! Do I want to be God or a God? Oh, heck no. Hubris has brought down many a man, and woman, and I have no desire to experience that pain. It did bring me back to the question of “why am I here, then?” Having thought about that often, I find it’s difficult to distill a lifetime of thought into so simple of a question. Am I here to be a god, or THE God? That’s a firm “no” in my mind. The very idea makes me shudder. I’m here to be a human being: the best expression of my own form of human being that I can be. Yes, that’s it. Very firm “no” on the “god” thing.  And then the niggling, wormy, repetitive thoughts of legacy5humanness and godhood would not leave me alone.

What is a “god?” To Webster, it is: “ a being or object believed to have more than natural attributes and powers and to require human worship; specifically :  one controlling a particular aspect or part of reality — Greek gods of love and war.” Interestingly enough, if it is capitalized, it means, “ the supreme or ultimate reality.” Whoa. Wait. NOT a person? So, someone who is a “god” controls part of the reality, but God controls all of reality. Gods and gods create realities. They create.

If our desire is to create, our very need for existence is to create, and God is commonly known as “the creator, the controller of reality” well… yes, let’ say it – Are we trying to be like God? Are we trying to BE Gods? It seems we humans do nothing but try to create and live in our own realities. In Genesis 1:26 though 28, the Bible talks about God making mankind in “their” image, and “he made them man and woman.” We’ll set the plurality of that aside for right now but divinization has been around for 2000 years as a Christian concept. In the second century, Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons (c. 130–202), said that God “became what we are in order to make us what he is himself.” Irenaeus also wrote, “If the Word became a man, it was so men may become gods.”

Maybe we have no choice. Our destiny as a species is to become gods, or God-like. Or even God. We’re inevitably going there, through our experience of creating, whatever it might be. As much mental gymnastics that we do via theology, psychology, astronomy or astrology, it all ends up in the same destination: we live, we create, and we die to forward the human species to return to their God home. We are creating our realities. We control our reality. People attach such reverence, deference, fear, and glory to the term God; I think, however, that it is the same way with ice cream and puppies, money and fame: it’s a human lens viewing and interpreting but it simply falls short. There is a rose-colored lens coating our idea of God, via religion or not, and that rose-color makes everything pretty. What if It just is, and we’re part of the “It?” We can categorize as Archetypes or manifest as avatars or embody ideals and in the end, we create whatever is our own special aspect of the Divine. The individual voice of God, whatever you legacy2deem that to be, becomes a painting, a piece of music, a child, a poem, a home, an organization, a community, or a new way of thinking.

The aforementioned conversation inevitably turned to “Well, we’re either supposed to be gods or not, so what?” If we’re supposed to become higher expressions of ourselves, then that’s great. But we’re dead. The point is…? Humanity is constantly changing. Maybe we wouldn’t go as far as saying “evolving” but perhaps that is wrong. Perhaps evolution is not a conscious “thing.” That is, we evolve, regardless of whatever we think about it. It’s not about being conscious about evolving; it’s not even about evolving consciousness. The human being species continues to propel itself forward via creation. The evolution will be a reflection of that creation. I think we may have to forget about the what (evolution) and work toward the creations that are within our aspect of the “God whole.” In other words, if my “god-given” gift is speech, then speak. Speak to the best ability and training you can and make an impact. Stir people. Find the Truth of what your little land plot is of “God” and make it prosperous. Forget fame and approbation: do the best you are able, no matter what it is.

In truth, isn’t that the Legacy we’re leaving for our descendants? For the Humans that follow us, we’re leaving what we create, whether it is more humans or more books, fine art, the echoes of music, or beautiful gardens. Maybe it is also a life saved because we cared enough to write the policies for the Red Cross that allowed that to happen or because we ran the sound equipment that recorded Martin Luther King’s speeches. It’s the difference between someone finding a new way forward because you took the time to bring your gifts to an organization, like Freemasonry, or not finding any kind of guiding light at all. Perhaps they would, eventually through some other organization or group; yet, it wouldn’t be the same, would it? It legacy4would be different, and thus cast a different turn on the evolution of Humanity. The best expression of who we are is the creations we give by utilizing our talents, whatever they may be. Like light in a prism, we’re individual colors that come together to make a whole. The idea is that we contribute what god-like qualities we have to weave a whole that helps our descendants move closer to a better expression of the god-like qualities, and so on.

Weird as that may be, maybe that’s what our ancestors were also trying to say when they said that God made humans in their image, and God became “Word” so that we could understand what it was like to be God. In our limited capacity as human beings, in a mortal world, we only see part of the whole. Similar to the workings of a Masonic Lodge, where the many play their parts but only one can see the ALL, we humans are the many. We’re part of the All, but we don’t get to see it yet. We don’t get to play in that playground until its time. When it is time for our individual self? No. When it is time for all. We get to move forward glacially. Progress measured in epochs. When the evolution clock ticks, it won’t seem like evolution at all.

Ego and the Freemason

Ego and the Freemason
I have to say, I love my Lodge’s Study Groups. They bring up all kinds of interesting subjects in relation to all aspects of life, and more particularly, life as a Freemason. We recently discussed how Ego affects our lives, and what our particular work is as Freemasons in regards to the Ego. These study sessions give me an opportunity to explore not only my own experiences with the topic but also what I think about it objectively – form an opinion, as well as be able to articulate that opinion. Since we all have an Ego, it’s easy to have experiences with it. It’s harder to form objective opinions. After all, isn’t the Ego involved in forming those opinions?
 

One of my first college classes, as a fresh-faced 18 year old, was Psychology 101. This was predated by Western Philosophy, both having an extremely big pull for me. These were classes that my high school did not offer: a whole new world of living that was and still is exciting. We learned all about Freud and Jung’s theories of the Ego, amongst other things, but nothing really “stuck” with me after that class. I never really went back and explored Ego until it came up so often in religious and metaphysical studies years later. I identified most closely with Jung’s writings, and I often go back to read up on him when questions of Psyche were, and are, involved.

In his writing about Ego, “One of Jung’s central concepts is individuation, his term for a process of personal development that involves establishing a connection between the ego and the self. The ego is the center of consciousness; the self is the center of the total psyche, including both the conscious and the unconscious.” The reference goes on to say, “For Jung, there is constant interplay between the two. They are not separate but are two aspects of a single system. Individuation is the process of developing wholeness by integrating all the various parts of the psyche.”F1B445C0-81D7-4ACC-B8DE-2F5F9B0DA2B5

The most interesting part of that statement is the fact that the Ego and the Self are different entities that must be integrated. How did they get dis-integrated in the first place? How did something that was whole become separate, linked, and our goal is to try to integrate the two? Is it birth that separated them? If so, what are we before? And is that the state we are trying to achieve? It makes my head spin to think that we might have been integrated in the womb (or before?) and dis-integrated at birth, and we spend our whole lives working toward integration. What happens, then, if you integrate earlier than dying? Is that perhaps our goal? Do we evolve as a species if that happens?

Hurts your head, right? Well, it does mine.

I imagine a binary star system, two bright points of light circling each other, embracing each other as only two fiery systems of gas and elementals can – never touching and continually burning each other. Love that consumes and renews itself. Yes, that must be the Ego and the Self, in Jung’s world.

If the Ego and the Self are inseparable, then it seems to me we have to learn to live with both, separate and equal parts, calling and screaming at one another all the time. How do we reconcile? Do we even try? Since we cannot unequivocally say where the mind resides, perhaps these two things are part of the overarching mind that controls us. And, logic gives us, that if as above, so below is representative, does that Divine mind have a Self and Ego, too? Does the Divine even have a mind? Maybe that’s a weird question, but maybe not.

5889823E-3C83-44D7-B9F5-6BA633A5FAD1I do know that Freemasonry simultaneously chooses to subdue our Egos and find our “Self.” Perhaps one of the binary stars must be dominant, and in that dominance is where we find the traits of a person – arrogance or humility, graciousness or rudeness. In the balance between the stars, we find the nature of the gasses they put off. It is difficult to be of service to your fellow Masons and at the same time be immodest and arrogant. There’s little room for others when you fill the room with your Ego. Perhaps that is also why we learn to subdue passions – the passions of the Ego – and develop the passions of the Self – the connection to the divine. One star must dim to have the other shine. The Roche Lobe of Personality. I kinda like it.

In the past, I wondered why we, as Freemasons, pin medals on our chests and put numbers at the end of our names, or added titles when we attain certain Masonic degrees. I think this is another of those tests – do we do it for prestige? Do we wear our outward jewels as a “brag rag,” as I heard one brother call it long ago? Or do we wear them to honor the Work we’ve completed and bring to the gathering? Do we shine our Ego brightly to make our “Self” fade? Intent is everything and nothing; we must be clear about what the outward trappings mean in order to not fall into the trap itself, yes?  Is one degree better than another? What have we really attained? I think about these things often. I do my best to remember the duty and cautiously regard the glitter. It seems to stick to everything. Does Masonry feed the Ego? Or help one subdue it? Maybe it’s an ongoing dialogue rather than a simple, solitary question.