After a recent presentation the brethren and officers closed their lodge and retired to refreshments which amounted to some rather fine Oliva Churchills that brought a smile to everyone’s face. Everyone except the Most Worshipful Master who happened to be in attendance for the event along with most of his line. He shook his head ruefully and talked about the problem of retention. He was genuinely troubled.
“It’s not just about new members,”
He looked at his cigar as if perhaps, somehow, it may hold the answer to his problem. “We’re doing fine with new members. It’s what comes after the degree. We’re seeing a dramatic fall off after the first year of attendance.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard this.
As I have the great fortune of visiting lodges all over the U.S., I often find myself outside a classic lodge building after a night of great discussion and a fine dinner smoking a cigar with my brother masons. As the crowd says their goodbyes and the early risers stub out their smokes and shake the hands, get in their car and drive away, there is a core group of men like myself who don’t have to get up quite so early in the morning and have, perhaps, an awful lot of experience under our belts left to ease into talking about the demise of our fraternity.
It’s always about retention.
And the solution that arises through the blue smoke and the moonlight falls into the domain of lodge education. Which, I would like to be very clear about, it a mighty important thing. As a guy who gets booked specifically to assist a lodge in delivering a blisteringly engaging night of education, I know just how important quality education and well-constructed presentations are to the edification of the brethren.
But education isn’t the solution.
I know what you’re thinking right now: He’s gonna tell us booking a great speaker like himself is the best way to fix a lodge’s leaking roster… I’m not. Because it isn’t. It would be good for me if that were true, but an occasional popular talk and the lively discussion that follows is no balm for masonic membership retention. Because it’s not about education.
It’s about a culture of engagement.
The lodges I’ve visited lately which were growing and enjoying strong, above average retention had one thing in common: their lodge culture was vibrant, warm, deeply fraternal, and more than anything else they were genuine. The new masons—men in their 20s to 30s—talked about their excitement for lodge. They were fully engaged. They had skin in the game. They looked forward to it. Even the guys cleaning the kitchen were all smiles.
Deep in the conversation with the statistics weary MWB from above, he told me he’d asked the brothers of the vibrant, statistically anomalous lodges a simple question. It wasn’t why did you join Freemasonry. It was:
Why do you keep coming back?
The answers he received tended to cluster around a central theme: the lodges with solid retention were focused on creating a lodge experience that was inclusive, warm, authentically welcoming, and more than anything memorable. They upheld those Masonic traditions that have endured through the hundreds of years brethren have gathered, but those traditions were not their aim. There is a reason why these traditions endure. They act as vehicles for the simplest reward we can offer our members: real, true, warm, authentic, genuine love for one another.
Brotherly Love is the cornerstone of effective lodge culture
At White Plains Lodge 473, captained under the busy and attentive gaze of WB Michael Padro, I watched from the East as the lodge enacted their opening ceremony and was impressed by their ritual and floor work. I was impressed by a brilliantly organized and well-managed Dais of officers working at the top of their game (including the regular advice whispered in low breath by the immediate past master, WM Padro’s twin brother).
I was impressed by how they participated in a lively discussion, how they dove into discussion feet-first and truly reveled in discourse. The formal toasts of the festive board which followed were only slightly better than the excellent repast but after all of that, after all the material good stuff, what stays with me, what struck me in my brief visit with these extraordinary brothers was the true and genuine love they felt for each other.
At Enlightenment Lodge 198 in Colorado Springs, I was called up by MWB Karl Hinkle to give an extemporaneous presentation. Their lodge furnishings: the Egyptian columns, the décor, the thoughtful, useful ornamentation of each officer’s station had me turning in a slow circle in the middle of the lodge to better ogle its sheer spectacle. Enormous, dramatic, and stately, the interior of their lodge was nevertheless, perhaps strangely, restrained. Afterward, after another perfectly presented and rather lively festive board, after cigars, after being whiskey away to the airport and after coming all the way back to Chicago what I took away had nothing to do with ornamentation, but with the dignity of a leadership focused on the experience of lodge and the genuine power of depth of their love.
Two very successful and viable lodges with 1,834 miles between them. Two leaders with a good 30 years difference in experience. Two rosters of men from wildly different demographics. And yet they were nearly the same, not in Masonic furnishings but in the quality of their culture. They shared a philosophy of providing a rich, meaningful, inclusive experience at every meeting.
In my own lodge, it’s the culture that keeps me coming back.
I can’t wait to go to lodge. I am furious when one of life’s endless learning experiences forces me to miss. It’s my locus of regeneration, my reset, my fortress of bon homme. I belong in that room and that room waits patiently for me to attend—me and every other member. Our retention statistics are exceedingly above average for the same reason as those other fine lodges: we love each other, we tell each other, we show each other. We are a family.
Here are three ways I believe a struggling lodge can improve their culture in a way that automatically improves masonic membership retention.
1. Set and maintain the very highest standards for ritual, floorwork, and operations.
2. Honor and maintain traditions that emphasize brotherhood and nurture connections. They’ve endured because they work.
3. Give every brother a job.
Don’t we already have standards for ritual and ceremony?
Yes but understand those standards are developed over decades by the Grand Lodge in an effort to impose clear standards while also allowing for lodges that have fallen behind. It’s the only way they can keep those struggling lodges open. Otherwise, they’d have to merge—or close.
Degree ritual is important because when done well, it creates a deep and abiding bond between the candidate and the men in his lodge—and to Freemasonry in general. That bond, once forged in his degrees, then has to be fostered and maintained over time in a lodge with his brethren so it may grow and flourish.
By aiming for standards that are closer to perfect, your lodge will naturally develop a sense of accomplishment which suffuses your work. Young brothers will yearn to become officers, will ask to perform ritual, and from what I’ve observed, they will adopt the standards your lodge expects of them.
It’s a good idea to look to the existing culture of the upcoming generations–not what you read about on social media, not the negative stories and digs; look instead to the men themselves and look to what they’re searching for in their work, in their avocations, and in their life. Quite a lot of them are looking to exemplify the very same ideals that drew you into the craft.
Not every member really cares about culture.
They will. When they get a taste of it. When they’re embraced for their experience and wisdom you will observe a growing ember of satisfaction in their hearts–satisfaction at being truly useful. Satisfaction in seeing young men take on the ritual and ceremony they’ve been holding up.
We’re more a social club at our lodge
That’s ok. Freemasonry is a big tent (thank you Bro. Scott Dayton). There is room for all kinds of interpretations and execution of our principles and our craft. But honestly, how are your numbers? If your lodge is healthy and your retention is strong then do us all a solid and write an article like this one and put it out there. Hell, I’ll publish it. But if your lodge is stagnant, if you’re barely hanging on, if you’re opening on the third because you only have four guys show up, then what’s the harm of trying something new?
I’m no expert. Really. I’m barely qualified to stand up and talk. But…
As I speak at more and more lodges, I am increasingly touched by the energy of new members. In the lodges where education (which is why I’m there) is only a part of their effort to build a lodge worth attending, where they understand the value of culture, what they’re developing isn’t only a lodge that passes the minimal requirements of being successful and viable, they are building an edifice of fraternity, a place where their brothers are enthused to attend—a lodge where they know they belong.
They’re creating an enduring cultural heritage.