“The darndest thing just happened out there in the parking lot. One of our members – I won’t mention who – started complaining that there wasn’t any pistachio ice cream! I just can’t get over it….” The Junior Warden had retreated into the coolness of the basement at the Masonic hall as the monthly chicken barbeque continued in full swing in the lodge’s parking lot. The Old Webmaster often stood inside to avoid the many, many temptations arrayed on the food-filled tables.
“He wanted pistachio? Really?” The Old Webmaster grinned broadly. “Why the NERVE….” He chuckled out loud.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly that. He just started carping about the fact that we always had only three flavors of ice cream and he felt that we needed to have something different. He mentioned pistachio….”
“I like pistachio myself,” replied The Old Webmaster “but it’s a pretty unique flavor and not one which sells particularly well anywhere. I wonder if our Brother is bothered by something else….” His tone became more serious.
The Junior Warden’s tone followed suit. “Yeah, the same thing crossed my mind actually. Fortunately he wasn’t making a scene about it but when he’d moved away and was standing alone, I approached him to talk about it. I was met with a barrage of complaints about the whole barbeque thing. I extricated myself pretty quickly and came in here saying that I needed to check on supplies. Think I should tell the Master?” The Junior Warden clearly understood the importance of harmony in the lodge and even went so far as to poll members on what they’d most like for meals and refreshments at each meeting.
“Always let the Master know what’s going on. When you’re in that office, you’ll understand just how important that is. And sometimes people just have a bad day and react badly to totally unrelated events. However, I’m willing to bet I know the Brother who made the comment.” The Old Webmaster was now staring intently out one of the cellar windows.
“You can still see him standing alone over there.” and they both peered into the parking area together. The Old Webmaster turned away and shook his head ruefully.
“Should I presume you know more about what’s going on than I do?….” said the Junior Warden, his voice trailing off.
“It’s the conundrum of the lost sheep, I’m afraid. You know that there have been problems and issues surrounding this Brother since the first week he was a member. Somehow he got sucked into a vat of negativity on the web and now nothing we do seems to please him. He goes online and gets pumped up with how Masonry is all wrong and then comes here to tell us all about it.” The Old Webmaster turned back to see one of the Past Masters of the lodge standing with the young man. Then, he watched, the young man turned and stomped out of the yard leaving the Past Master staring at his back. Peripherally, they also saw that the Master had seen this happen and a quick nod led them both into the hall where the Junior Warden and The Old Webmaster stood.
“I was probably way out of line, Worshipful, but I told him that if he didn’t like things – despite all the changes we’d made to accommodate him – then he shouldn’t let the door hit him in the butt on the way out.” The Past Master spoke without defiance or malice. He had spoken what he felt and although he was regretful, he also knew that a cancer can spread rapidly and often excising it is the only cure.
The Junior Warden piped in quickly: “He” and he nodded at The Old Webmaster “has just mentioned the Parable of the Lost Sheep. There is that to consider I guess. I’d just been castigated for not having pistachio ice cream available….”
The two recent arrivals simply stared. Pistachio ice cream….
“Any further sage thoughts on that parable you could share for our guidance?” asked the Master, turning squarely to The Old Webmaster.
“Sometimes there are no good answers to these things. We try our best but in the final analysis, Freemasonry isn’t for everyone. A man might have been at a different point in his life when he joined or – in the case of our new Brother – we may have allowed him to believe that the lodge would be all about HIM. I’m surprised that such a thing happened here but…. ” He shrugged his shoulders.
“From a pragmatic standpoint, I don’t think we want to stop carrying chocolate in favor of pistachio – and our Brother already knows that only three 5 gallon containers will fit in that outdoor freezer. Worshipful, I don’t think I want to take the blame for this one.” The Junior Warden’s voice was not defiant in the least. He was clearly facing a conundrum as to the food service however.
The Master looked each man in the eye and then spoke. He began slowly. “At the outset, we blamed ourselves for all our failings and you’ll recall that we changed a number of things, more to keep him happy than because they needed changing. It’s hard to tell whether his behavior is righteous indignation or simply wanting attention: either way, we can see it’s not helpful and the constant submission to every perceived slight is doing nothing but dragging the rest of us down. We can suggest that he should consider the others before himself but in the final analysis, if he’s determined to be unhappy, I think we need to be looking after the rest of the flock. We can rejoice when – or if – he returns and we can make him as welcome as if he’d never left but I think we’ve bent backwards as far as we should go.”
“I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” the Past Master said in a very resigned voice. “I’ll call him tonight and apologize.” He was certainly willing to take responsibility for any problems he might have inadvertently caused.
“But don’t take it personally if he hangs up on you….” replied The Old Webmaster. “I frankly don’t think this is about you or about us: it’s about him. At some point he will, hopefully, realize how immature he’s been and we can move on from there. I guess that from time to time there will be those who’ll chafe against whatever obstacle they encounter, even if it’s one of their own making. It’s too bad but that’s the way of life it seems – and even something like the tenets of Freemasonry never manage to fully sink in for some people regardless of what’s done.”
They all nodded. There was not much more to say. Suddenly The Old Webmaster put a hand to his ear as if to hear a sound from the outside. The others looked at each other and at him quizzically. “I thought I heard some chili calling my name from out there….” he said solemnly. They all laughed and immediately headed back into the friendship and fun which marked their monthly chicken barbecue.
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