Torbjörn Andersson, B58 Vestergyllen
I have come to understand that wisdom rarely means having all the answers.
More often, it means learning how to listen. To listen to another brother. To recognize the person who stands quietly at the edge of the fellowship. To notice the brother who carries a burden beneath his smile. To offer encouragement when it is needed. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another person is simply to see them. This is where our values become real.
Friendship means walking beside one another.
Love means caring for the traveller beside us.
Truth means having the courage to look honestly at the road we ourselves have travelled.
Faith gives us the courage to trust the path, even when we cannot yet see where it leads.
Hope keeps the light alive within us and gives strength to those who walk beside us.
Charity is the light we choose to share, especially with the brother or sister who needs it most.
There comes a time in life when our eyes begin to turn from the road ahead towards the road around and behind us. We remember the paths we have walked, the people who have shared them with us, the choices we made, the joys we experienced and the lessons life gave us.
With the passing of years, something changes. Experience becomes perspective. And perspective becomes responsibility. This is perhaps what it means to be an elder.
In our Order, the Patriarch/Matriarch carries a special meaning. He/she represents experience, memory and wisdom. He/she has travelled roads that others are only beginning to discover. His/her task is therefore more than remembering the past, it is to illuminate the road.
And experience gives us one further responsibility: To pass the candle forward.
Those who came before us carried the light for their generation. They placed it in our hands. One day, it will be our turn to place it into the hands of those who follow. That is the quiet dignity of the elder. He stands between generations. Behind him are memories. Beside him are brothers and sisters. Before him are those who will carry the future. Perhaps the most important question therefore is: What kind of elder are we becoming? Will people remember our titles and achievements? Or will they remember that we saw them? That we listened. That we encouraged. That we made room. That we helped someone find courage to take another step along the path.
For the elder’s greatest legacy is rarely what he has accomplished. It is the light he leaves upon the path for those who come after him. And perhaps that is the true meaning of the Patriarch. To have walked far enough to understand the road, yet remain humble enough to walk beside another. To receive the light. To carry the torch. And, when the time comes, to say, “here comes a candle” and pass it forward.
