This evening carried that familiar blend of quiet anticipation and gentle chaos that seems to follow me around the Rosicrucian world. I made my way to Clwyd College at Mostyn for what turned out to be my fourth Rosicrucian gathering this month, a detail that suggests either admirable dedication or a worrying lack of hobbies. It was our Installation meeting, always a moment of ceremony and transition, and despite the hurdles it unfolded with surprising grace.

The College Secretary had recently stepped away from all things Masonic, which meant several parts of the evening had been assembled at speed. A few chairs were empty, a few roles redistributed, and the new celebrant had not prepared the traditional celebrant’s paper that should accompany his ascent into the chair. In the SRIA this is not a small omission. The talk is part of the rhythm of the Order, a moment where scholarship meets symbolism and the new celebrant sets the tone for his year.

I had suspected this might happen. There is a particular silence that descends when someone has not prepared a lecture, and I could hear that silence forming long before the meeting. So earlier that morning I gathered a few notes from some research I had been doing and shaped them into a short talk. Nothing too heavy, nothing too academic, just a playful little quest for the Holy Grail with enough humour to keep the room awake and enough Monty Python references to ensure the brethren were smiling rather than bracing themselves for a dissertation.

It went down well. The room laughed in the right places, nodded in the thoughtful ones, and for a few minutes we all wandered together through myth, mystery, and the gentle absurdity that makes our Order so endearing.

Sometimes you simply need a back up plan.