WORSHIPFUL MASTER: Deputy Master and brethren, stand to order and assist me to close this lodge.
CHAPLAIN: Almighty God, Who art a strong tower of defence unto Thy servants against the face of their enemies, we humbly beseech Thee of Thy mercy to deliver us from those great and imminent dangers by which we are now encompassed. O Lord, give us not up as a prey to our enemies, but continue to protect Thy true religion against the designs of those who seek to overthrow it, so that all the world may know that Thou art our Saviour and mighty Deliverer: through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
WORSHIPFUL MASTER: Deputy Master and brethren, I declare this Lodge closed until our next regular meeting, except in case of emergency, of which members shall receive, under Seal, due and timely notice.
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN
CHAPLAIN: The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with us all. Amen.
The rituals and ceremonies are comforting for many Orangemen; the business part of the meeting drives many of them mad. ‘Two hours of nonsense,’ reported one to me, ‘on when the spring-cleaning would be done, because of the complication of there being a children’s crèche in the lodge in the mornings. Everyone had a point of view. It was eventually decided to wait till Christmas when there wouldn’t be a crèche. But then there was a problem with the normal date of the annual service. There was much carry-on about which day and what time. It was eventually decided to leave the date as it was. Are these,’ he added, ‘the people that are supposed to hold the line when the whole place is going up in flames? If the Provies only knew.’
‘There’s no doubt about it that the meetings are boring for young people,’ said another. ‘What young fella of eighteen or nineteen years of age wants to go there on a Friday night? Some of the chairmen, they’re mebbe sixty or seventy and they’ve nowhere else to go and they’d like it to go on to half ten or eleven at night. I remember one particular night there wasn’t any business as such and the chairman got out the last three electricity bills to have a discussion. We could have read the minutes of the last one, had a ten-minute chat and gone home. I laughed that night.’
Most lodges try to achieve consensual agreement before anything is voted on, so everyone has a chance to get a word in. The more people who do, the more the issues become muddied.
‘Get the business over quickly,’ said a competent master. ‘Then tea-bags, sugar, boil the kettle, have a drop of tea. Bring a couple of packets of biscuits, a few buns, and sit around for an hour or so and have a yarn. That’s what makes a lodge, you know. A drop of tea and a bit of fellowship. It makes the night, you know.’
It wouldn’t do in the Shankill Road, where the alcohol would be brought out after the closing ceremony, but the principle is the same.
So, too, is the way the brethren look after each other. All the loyal institutions contribute to an organization helping orphans of Orangemen or women; when a brother or sister dies, their lodge will help out financially and practically and there will be help during bad times. There is also a strong sense of loyalty to the disabled. Family values being what they are in Northern Ireland, the mentally and physically handicapped are far more a part of their family and the community than in more modern and secular societies and there are Orangemen with mental and physical disabilities. Sandy Row, No. 5 District, for instance, is passionately proud of ‘Oor Wee Wullie’, William Bloomer, who joined a junior lodge in 1982, ‘when he began to play a full part in all the activities of his junior lodge, including football. Wor. Bro. Eddie Wright was worried that the other boys in the lodge would not be sufficiently considerate of Billy, but in the event, their willingness to carry Billy, with his wheelchair, upstairs to the lodge room and down again amazed him. When the lodge went on parade, the members took turns to push Billy along in his wheelchair without any prompting from the senior members.’
Billy Bloomer’s ambition was to be a lecturer, and although his training was interrupted by a serious operation, he gained his lecturer’s certificate in 1990. To mark the event, members of the class presented him with an inscribed ‘Spirit of ‘88 Bible which Billy carries proudly to church,’ continued the anonymous article in a Sandy Row Orange publication:
The real test for any lecturer occurs when he gives the lecture and address in his own private lodge for the first time.
Billy’s style and delivery so impressed the members of [LOL] 1064 they gave him a standing ovation. Not surprisingly, the lodge elected him to the office of First Lecturer, and Billy’s greatest pleasure is to take the floor and give instruction to new members of the Order.
The difficulties that William has overcome in his short life have been many, but the smiling face with which he greets his brethren helps to put one’s own problems into perspective …
‘Wee Wullie’ is looking forward to parading to the ‘field’ on the Twelfth for, as he says, ‘while others complain of sore feet, it’s just a pushover for me’.
To the eye of the 1990s, that might sound patronizing, but to William Bloomer and his brethren, it is simply an acknowledgement of the fellowship and the respect the Ulster Protestant feels for those who know how to endure suffering without bitterness.
The Royal Arch Purple and the Royal Black Preceptories
When you have been initiated as an Orangeman, you have taken the Orange degree. You then go through a similar test, usually within six months to a year, to acquire the Purple. The history and nature of degrees are of absorbing interest to many Orangemen and of very little interest to anyone else. They take their meaning of the word from the question of Isaiah in 2 Kings 20.9: ‘Shall the shadow go forth ten degrees or go back ten degrees?’ Degrees are therefore a measure of spiritual movement and are intended to deepen biblical knowledge.
Traditionally, there has been a difference between those who want to keep ritual to a minimum and those who thoroughly enjoy it. Some Orange leaders banned rituals and degrees borrowed from Freemasonry, but those had been greatly enjoyed by simple people who wanted some mystery in their lives. The Royal Arch Purple Order, which these days is tolerated by Grand Lodge, was founded to preserve an outlawed degree. It prides itself ‘on having a legitimate and historical claim to be the inheritors of the [Orange Order’s] original initiation rituals and ceremonies’. The Grand Black Chapter of the Royal Black Institution traces its origins back to the Knights Hospitallers and the Knights of Malta; it came into existence shortly after the Orange Order. Many people join because they feel it offers a spiritual dimension.
‘The Black would have to be more scriptural and more Bible-based, with Bible-teaching and that,’ said a Mourne Blackman. ‘Basically our Black meeting was like a gospel meeting. The leaders of the preceptory were all Christian fellows. The degrees would have been taught in that way. Degrees are really the drama of asking the questions behind the story. So that would occupy most of the time. My main reason for being in the institution was religious.’
‘I joined the Black because I liked the parade in Scarva,’ said one member. ‘It was very well disciplined and well controlled, with good bands, good music. And because I was told all along that the Black institution was actually the main institution that taught the biblical principles of the Protestant faith in the various degrees that you went through. And there was more scope for teaching within it and getting our own people to have a greater knowledge of what our faith is about. The Orange wouldn’t have that capacity.’
‘The Black is a very graceful, decorous, sedate organization,’ another Blackman explained. ‘The Grand Master is in his flowing robes and the Grand Black Chapter has a procession into the chapter room with the mace being borne in front of him.’
A mutual Orange friend who has never been attracted by the Black was listening keenly. ‘It’s a bit popish, isn’t it?’ he commented, not very seriously, but with some truth. ‘No, it’s ceremonial.’ ‘Popery. Sheer undiluted popery.’ ‘Listen to Oliver Cromwell,’ laughed the Blackman. And we fell into an absorbing discussion as to whether it was permissible to have a cross in a