Protected: Funeral Ceremony of Eugeen Liven d’Abelardo

Candlelight flickers softly as a young man sets down his brush and stares at the canvas. As the eighth child in a large family, he learned early to observe, to listen, and above all, to wait his turn to be heard. Now, years later, he stands in a Masonic lodge where brethren have gathered around the art he has created. The story of the eighth child who becomes both philosopher and brother is a story about creativity born from necessity, wisdom cultivated in the shadows, and the art that emerges when a searching spirit finally finds a home. The Philosopher Who Grew Up as the Eighth Child Throughout the history of philosophy and the arts, we find a remarkable number of thinkers and artists who grew up among the youngest children in large families. The eighth child — whether literally or figuratively the youngest — learns early that the world does not revolve around him. This position creates a unique perspective on reality: observing, reflecting, and often developing a deep need to find meaning beyond the well-trodden path. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the eighteenth-century philosopher whose ideas helped shape the Enlightenment, knew this experience of being an outsider. His philosophy about the […]

The 33rd degree fascinates and confounds in equal measure. How can a brotherhood that preaches equality simultaneously maintain a system of thirty-three ascending steps? It’s a question that occupies outsiders and initiates alike — and perhaps that is exactly the point. Because within this tension between hierarchy and equality lies a deeper insight into what human connection truly means. The Paradox of the 33rd Degree Explained Let’s begin with a provocative proposition: the highest degrees of Freemasonry exist not to elevate people, but to make them smaller. Not in the sense of humiliation, but in the original meaning of the word humilitas — derived from humus, the earth. The higher one climbs on the symbolic ladder, the sharper the awareness of one’s own limitations becomes. The thirty-third step is not a throne but a vantage point from which the horizon remains infinite. This may sound like a contradiction. We live in an age in which hierarchy has become suspect, in which every form of rank is automatically associated with power and oppression. Yet the structure of degrees within Masonic traditions operates in a fundamentally different way. It is not a ladder upward, but a spiral inward. Each degree reveals not […]

The phone goes silent after the message. A referee stares at an empty field where yesterday a familiar face still stood. The news of a valued colleague’s sudden death hits like a hammer blow. In that moment of loss, a question emerges that reaches far beyond personal grief: what does our mourning reveal about who we truly are — and how we treat one another? The Silence After Loss When a colleague dies unexpectedly, a hole opens up in the world. Not just in the workplace, but in the fabric of everyday connections. The world of refereeing, like any tight-knit community, knows this feeling of collective grief. These are moments when achievements and results suddenly seem meaningless. What remains is the memory of a person — shared experiences, the way someone carried themselves through life. In Freemasonry, we know these moments of stillness as well. When a Brother enters the Eternal East, as passing is described in Masonic terms, the lodge gathers in reflection. Not to judge what someone accomplished, but to remember who someone was. This tradition reminds us that ethics is not only about action — it is also about remembrance and honor. Ethics in the Face of […]