I was elected by my brothers as Worshipful Master

of Mackenzie Lodge No. 1327 in Lubbock, Texas. Then, on June 21st, I was also elected as Senior Warden of South Plains Daylight Lodge No. 1443, also in Lubbock.

I am absolutely honored and humbled to be asked if I was willing to serve. The key word there is “serve.”

In the Texas Monitor, the Election Master, usually a trusted Past Master of the Lodge, assumes his position in the East. He explains the laws, rules, and regulations regarding officer nominations, clarifies which roles are open, and then asks, “Are there any nominations?”

If tradition holds, the current Worshipful Master, sitting on the sidelines for the first time in his year, will rise and nominate the current Senior or Junior Warden. At that point, the Election Master will ask if there are any other nominations. Traditionally, there are none, although floor nominations are absolutely allowed.

Then comes the pivotal question: “If elected, are you willing to serve?” The nominated brother answers, and a vote is held either by secret ballot or by proclamation. If elected by proclamation, the brothers rise and give a thunderous applause.

I didn’t have any nominations against me this time. I received the applause, thanked the brethren for putting their trust in me, and sat back down. But even as I did, that question echoed in my mind: “If elected, are you willing to serve?”

From the very first day I was appointed Junior Steward, traditionally the “lowest-ranking” officer in the Masonic line I was taught to serve. At my lodge, the Stewards handle the meals. I made sure food was ready at every meeting, let the brethren eat before me, cleaned up tables, took empty plates to the trash, filled drinks, and yes, I served raw pork one time (oops). I became the butt of all the jokes, but I kept showing up and doing the work.

I moved on to Junior Deacon the next year. I thought it’d be a break from service, but I quickly learned it was just a different kind of service. As Junior Deacon, you’re essentially the inner guard of the lodge second line of defense after the Tiler. And in a time of rising anti-Masonic sentiment and vandalism, that duty carries weight.

As Junior Warden, I helped the Tilers with meals when needed, served on committees for the Worshipful Master, studied our by-laws, learned the Grand Lodge of Texas rules, attended Masonic funerals, helped brothers in need, and took every administrative training Grand Lodge offered. That year opened my eyes to service beyond the lodge walls.

Then I served as Senior Warden, where my top priority was to support the Worshipful Master. I helped promote his plans, coordinated with committees, ran meetings in his absence, and quietly started putting the finishing touches on the ideas for my own year in the East.

Back when I was a Junior Steward, two Past Masters told me, “Even if your idea seems dumb, write it down and save it for the lodge.” So I did. I started with a little black notebook that has since turned into a full Google Drive folder.

I studied the Vanguard Award, which recognizes the best lodges in the jurisdiction, and started plugging my ideas into those criteria. Before I knew it, I had created a plan with nearly 300 days of Masonic activity. I thought the brethren would love it. Then I realized… most of them probably wouldn’t.

Lodges are volunteer organizations. Every man has his own limits, his own cable tow. And lately, I’ve seen our participation slipping. I’ve seen ritual pushed aside. I’ve seen tired brothers.

So I made a decision.

This year, I’m not going to overwhelm the lodge with every Masonic idea in the book. I’m going to serve the lodge by reading the room. I’ll give the brethren what they actually need, Meaningful Masonry. Masonry with intention. Brotherly love, not just in word, but in action.

I’ve structured my year into four quarters, each with a major focus:

• Quarter 1: Honoring our Past Masters

• Quarter 2: Strengthening our community

• Quarter 3: Supporting educators and students

• Quarter 4: Building toward the future

I cut my pet projects down from 12 to 4 major lodge initiatives—one per quarter:

Past Master Night – Ritual of Light

Winter Solstice – Candlelight Master Mason Degree

Community Builder, Lamar, and Educator Awards

Master Mason of the Year Award

Some of the remaining ideas became sub-projects. Others were turned into education pieces. I revised the standard lodge agenda to include only what’s required, and I carved out time in every meeting for real Masonic education.

One thing I couldn’t ignore was our ritual. If you want to see a lodge lose confidence in its Worshipful Master, put a man in the East who has to be prompted every other line. That Master will lose the room, and fast. And while good ritual alone doesn’t make you a better Mason, it does show that you respect the work and traditions enough to earn your place.

That’s why I’m working closely with my officer line. We’re practicing. We’re preparing. We’re doing the work so that, when the time comes, we’ve earned the confidence of our brothers.

I’ll be honest, I’m nervous. I’m scared. I’m even terrified.

My goal in Masonry has always been simple: to do the work so that if my sons decide to knock one day, there will still be a door for them to knock on. This year, it feels like the brethren handed me the keys to that door. And now, I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn the house down.

I don’t know how this year will go. But I promise I’ll be transparent. I’ll post the results. I’ll share the good, the bad, and everything in between.

I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

So Mote It Be.