William Herbert “Skip” Boyer, 32°, KCCH
15817 N. 6th Place, Phoenix, Arizona 85022
Skip.Boyer@bestwestern.com

December can be a time of contemplation and the renewing of energy for the
spring that will inevitably come.

Mankind’s first grand discovery was time The eminent historian Daniel J. Boorstin observes: “Only by marking off months, weeks and years, days and hours, minutes and seconds, would mankind be liberated from the cyclical monotony of nature. The flow of shadows, sand, and water, and time itself, translated into the clock’s staccato, became a useful measure of man’s movements across the planet.”

Ancient man divided time very simply. It was day or night, light or dark. It was the time of rebirth, the growing season, the harvest season, or the time of cold, dark, and the end of things. Eventually, he would learn to divide the light and dark into smaller units—hours, minutes, and seconds. Of course, it took time to figure it out.

The Babylonians were tinkering with a lunar calendar of sorts around 432 B.C. As recently as 1929, the Soviet Union declared each week would have five days and each month would consist of six weeks. By 1940, they gave it up. It was only a matter of time, you know.

And so, in the fullness of time, we come to the month of December. It is, in many places, a time of cold, of short days, of long nights and darkness when life is dormant. It can be more. It can also be a time of contemplation and the renewing of energy for the spring that will inevitably come. It can be a time to prepare, a time to catch your breath.

In our Craft, we are taught to divide time using the simple tools of the Entered Apprentice. Let us here consider how we divide the year and to what use we can put December.

As a kid growing up in the Midwest, it was easy to decide what to do with December. Making snowballs and sledding down the hill by the house rivaled shoveling sidewalks and making a couple of dollars. The acrid smell of coal smoke was in the air, and life was good in December. And, of course, the approach of the Christmas holiday was just icing on the cake.

As a high-school student, December was also pretty cool in more than temperature—walking in the snow with your best girl, huddled close to keep warm, fogging up the windows in a ‘Chevy, and going to the DeMolay Snowball Dance were reasons to celebrate the month.

Today, I live in a climate where there is no snow and my girlfriend is my wife of nearly 35 years. We don’t fog up the windows anymore (it’s the climate!), and December has a whole new meaning for me. I still enjoy the celebration of the holidays, of course. Actually, in my home, the official holiday season begins with Halloween and runs through Super Bowl Sunday. We milk it for all it’s worth!

Now, it’s also a time to pause and look in both directions. I look back to see where I’ve been and what I’ve done. And I look forward to the new year in the hope that there are still things to do and there are yet other Decembers to come on my personal calendar.

Speaking of calendars and time and such, here’s a little exercise for December. Have you seen those calendars with a little window that opens on each date and has some sort of picture or surprise behind it? Let’s make our own.

On December 1, get out your calendar and write in the little box of each day something that you did during the past year to honor the obligations taken at the altar of Freemasonry. It could be performing some act of charity, whispering words of wise counsel in a Brother’s ear, aiding a distressed brother, or whatever.

Do the same thing on December 2 and 3 and 4. You get the idea. Count down, day by day, and don’t stop on December 25. Finish out the year. Start the new year by reading what you’ve written. Then start thinking about what you’ll write next December.

And don’t tell me you don’t have the time to do it!
Of course you do!