Worshipful Master –
|
Thomas Wagner
|
Address
4911 Montrose Blvd, Houston, Texas 77006
Phone: (713) 529-0912
Email: Secretary@hollandlodge.org
Web: www.HollandLodge.org
29apr19:0021:00Entered Apprentice Initiation Ceremony
Event Details
Open to: 1°, 2° and 3° The Entered Apprentice degree is a
Event Details
Open to: 1°, 2° and 3°
The Entered Apprentice degree is a candidate’s first experience with the ceremonies of the fraternity and serves as an introduction to Masonry. It is, like all Masonic ceremonies, a solemn and meaningful event. An Entered Apprentice is a learner and, as such, should approach his new vocation with humility and a sincere desire to absorb the lessons of the degree. This includes preparing to devote some time studying and reflecting on the moral and ethical philosophies taught during the ceremony.
No man can fully absorb the depth, beauty, and meaning of the Entered Apprentice degree on his first encounter. Men return for years to witness and partake in the ceremony to grasp its rich significance. Each Mason ponders its meaning and relies on the counsel of his brethren to develop a more complete understanding during his search for light.
We welcome and encourage all Masons in good standing to attend to welcome the Brother into, “the Craft.”
5:30pm: Dinner
7:00pm: Initiation Ceremony
Attire: Business Professional.
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Time
(Monday) 19:00 - 21:00(GMT-05:00)
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Annual Dues
$260.00
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On this day in Masonic History
The Mother Lodge
Today in Masonic History we present The Mother Lodge by Rudyard Kipling.
There was a Rundle, station master,
An' Beazeley of the rail;
An' Achman, commissariat,
An' Donkin o' the jail;
An' Blake, cunductor sergeant-
Our Master twice was ‘e,
With ‘im that kept the Europe shop,
Old Framjee Eduljee.
Outside-"Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Slam!"
Inside-"Brother" an' it doesn't do no ‘arm,
We meet upon the level an' we parted on the square,
An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out there.
There was Bola Nath, accountant,
And Saul, the Aden Jew,
An, Din Mohammed, draughtsman,
Of the Sursey office, too.
There was Babu Chicekerhitty,
An' Amir Singh, the Sikh,
An' Castro of the fittin' sheds,
A Roman Catholic.
We ‘ad n't good regalia,
An' our Lodge was old an' bare;
But we knew the ancient landmarks,
An' we kept ‘em to a hair.
An' looking on it backwards,
It often strikes me thus,
There ain't such things as ‘eathen now,
Except, per'aps, it's us.
For monthly after labor
We'd all sit down an' smoke
(We durs'nt give no banquets
Least a brother's caste were broke),
An' man on man got bukkin'
Religion an' the rest,
An' every man comparin'
Of the God 'e knowed the best.
So man on man got started,
An' not a beggar stirred
Till mornin' waked the parrots,
An' that dam' brain-fever bird.
We'd say't was very curious,
An' we'd all go ‘ome to bed
With Mohammed, God, an' Shira,
Changin' pickets in our ‘ead.
Full out of Gov'ment service
This wanderin' foot ‘ath pressed
An' bore fraternal greetin's
To the Lodges East and West
Accordin' as commanded,
From Ko'at to Singapore,
But I wish that I might see them
In my Mother Lodge once more.
I wish that I might see them,
My Brethren white and brown,
With the burlies smellin' pleasant
An' the ag-dan passin' down,
An' the old Khansannah snorin'
On the bottle-Khana floor,
Like a Brother in good standing
With my Mother Lodge once more.
Outside-"Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Slam!"
Inside-"Brother" an' it doesn't do no ‘arm,
We meet upon the level an' we parted on the square,
An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out there.
The Mother Lodge
Today in Masonic History we present The Mother Lodge by Rudyard Kipling.
There was a Rundle, station master,
An' Beazeley of the rail;
An' Achman, commissariat,
An' Donkin o' the jail;
An' Blake, cunductor sergeant-
Our Master twice was ‘e,
With ‘im that kept the Europe shop,
Old Framjee Eduljee.
Outside-"Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Slam!"
Inside-"Brother" an' it doesn't do no ‘arm,
We meet upon the level an' we parted on the square,
An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out there.
There was Bola Nath, accountant,
And Saul, the Aden Jew,
An, Din Mohammed, draughtsman,
Of the Sursey office, too.
There was Babu Chicekerhitty,
An' Amir Singh, the Sikh,
An' Castro of the fittin' sheds,
A Roman Catholic.
We ‘ad n't good regalia,
An' our Lodge was old an' bare;
But we knew the ancient landmarks,
An' we kept ‘em to a hair.
An' looking on it backwards,
It often strikes me thus,
There ain't such things as ‘eathen now,
Except, per'aps, it's us.
For monthly after labor
We'd all sit down an' smoke
(We durs'nt give no banquets
Least a brother's caste were broke),
An' man on man got bukkin'
Religion an' the rest,
An' every man comparin'
Of the God 'e knowed the best.
So man on man got started,
An' not a beggar stirred
Till mornin' waked the parrots,
An' that dam' brain-fever bird.
We'd say't was very curious,
An' we'd all go ‘ome to bed
With Mohammed, God, an' Shira,
Changin' pickets in our ‘ead.
Full out of Gov'ment service
This wanderin' foot ‘ath pressed
An' bore fraternal greetin's
To the Lodges East and West
Accordin' as commanded,
From Ko'at to Singapore,
But I wish that I might see them
In my Mother Lodge once more.
I wish that I might see them,
My Brethren white and brown,
With the burlies smellin' pleasant
An' the ag-dan passin' down,
An' the old Khansannah snorin'
On the bottle-Khana floor,
Like a Brother in good standing
With my Mother Lodge once more.
Outside-"Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Slam!"
Inside-"Brother" an' it doesn't do no ‘arm,
We meet upon the level an' we parted on the square,
An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out there.