Bellevue Lodge #325 A.F & A.M

Bellevue Lodge #325 A.F & A.M Bellevue Masonic Lodge #325 A.F. & A.M. is the Blue Lodge for the city of Bellevue, Nebraska.

For more details of how to contact and/or join us, please visit https://www.bellevuelodge325.org meets at 6:00 PM every Tuesday at the Bellevue Masonic Temple located at 1908 Franklin Street, Bellevue, NE 68005.

Peter Sarpy here, taking a moment on National App Day to reflect on how these little squares on our phones have become t...
12/11/2025

Peter Sarpy here, taking a moment on National App Day to reflect on how these little squares on our phones have become the modern tools of daily life. Back in my trading-post years, a “tool” was a compass, a ledger, or a canoe paddle. Today? Apparently it’s whatever icon lights up our screens and reminds us we’ve ignored messages for too long. But even these apps carry lessons that line up neatly with the teachings we hold dear in Masonry.

Take Google Maps. To most folks, it’s a guide to the quickest route. To me, it’s the Blue Lodge. It teaches direction, purpose, and the value of beginning your journey on the right path. Just like an Entered Apprentice learns to find his way by the moral compass, we follow those little digital arrows toward something better… ideally without missing the exit.

YouTube? That one’s the Scottish Rite. Endless degrees of knowledge, lectures, demonstrations, and rabbit holes deeper than any vault beneath King Solomon’s Temple. Whether you're watching a tutorial or a historian explain symbolism, it reminds us that learning never stops—and that wisdom comes from digging deeper.

Venmo feels like the Shrine. Quick, friendly exchanges, supporting each other without making a fuss. A few taps, and you're helping a Brother with lunch or pitching in for a fundraiser. It’s cheerful charity at high speed.

Reddit is the York Rite to me—full of specialized paths, groups, and quests that require patience, curiosity, and sometimes a bit of courage. There are guilds inside of guilds, each with its own customs, teachings, and “degrees” of expertise. Venture carefully.

And Spotify—that’s the Grotto. Lighthearted, fun, sometimes wonderfully strange. A place for levity, fellowship, and the kind of music that helps a Brother shake off the day. Even the Prophet would approve.

Each of these apps is a tool, just like our square, compasses, and level. They help us stay connected, learn, help one another, and carve out a little joy. What matters is how we use them—intentionally, kindly, and in a way that builds rather than tears down.

So on National App Day, maybe take a minute to look at the apps you rely on and ask yourself the same question Masonry asks of its tools: Are you using them to make your life—and the lives of those around you—a little better?

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment at my desk for National Christmas Card Day. Back in my trading-post years, sendi...
12/09/2025

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment at my desk for National Christmas Card Day. Back in my trading-post years, sending a message meant handing it to someone who might deliver it… if the river didn’t freeze, the horse didn’t throw a shoe, and the weather didn’t turn. These days, a simple card in the mail feels almost elegant. And in its own way, it carries the same spirit we teach in the lodge: take the time to reach out, build harmony, and remind someone they matter.

A Christmas card is like a Mason’s working tool. The square teaches us to act with honesty; a card gives us a chance to put that honesty into words. The level reminds us we all stand equal; a card shows we remember every person in our circle, not just the ones we see every day. The compasses guide our actions; a card helps us draw that circle of friendship just a little wider.

And if you want to have a little fun with it—well, I’ve never been against a harmless laugh. Write a few cards from completely made-up “family friends” with a made-up return address. Add a line like, “We miss visiting with you and (pet's name),” and watch your relatives try to figure out who on earth knows the family and (pet name). The best part is watching everyone play detective while you keep a straight face.

Whether you keep it heartfelt or mischievous, a Christmas card does what Masonry encourages us to do every day: strengthen bonds, spread goodwill, and brighten someone’s path.

So pull out a pen tonight. Send a note to someone who needs it. And maybe send one from a mysterious friend, just to keep the season interesting.

Peter Sarpy here, taking a short break with a pencil in hand for National Crossword Solvers Day. Anyone who ever stopped...
12/08/2025

Peter Sarpy here, taking a short break with a pencil in hand for National Crossword Solvers Day. Anyone who ever stopped by my trading post knew I kept a puzzle tucked under the counter. There’s something about filling in those little boxes that reminds me of the work we do as Masons: patient, thoughtful, and always pushing ourselves to understand a little more than we did the day before.

A crossword looks simple at first. Then you hit a clue that stops you cold. You try a guess, erase it, try again, and eventually the whole thing starts to make sense. That’s not much different from the lessons in the lodge. We don’t learn by rushing. We learn by sticking with it, checking our assumptions, and letting the right answers take shape in their own time.

Some clues come easily. Those are the basic principles we all start with: integrity, patience, charity. Then there are the long, twisty clues—almost riddles—that remind you how much you still have to grow. That’s where the deeper teachings of the Craft fit in. They stretch your mind the way a good puzzle does, and they reward you with those small clicks of understanding that feel better than solving any ten-letter word.

And of course, just like every crossword, Masonry isn’t done alone. You can work most of it yourself, but every now and then you need a fresh set of eyes. A Brother leans over, offers a nudge, and suddenly the whole corner fills in. We make each other better that way.

So today, whether you’re working a full Sunday puzzle or just knocking out a quick daily grid, think about the parts of your life you’re still trying to fill in. Think about the lessons you’ve already placed, the ones that need revisiting, and the ones that only make sense when you lean on the people around you.

In the end, both puzzles and Masonry remind us that everything connects—you just have to keep searching for the right words.

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment to mark National Fritters Day from the edge of the old frontier. For a man who s...
12/02/2025

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment to mark National Fritters Day from the edge of the old frontier. For a man who spent most of his life far from any ocean, I’ve always carried the soul of a beach bum. Cornfields might have been my daily view, but my appetite has always wandered toward warm shores and conch fritters crisp from the pan. Corn fritters fed me on long trips up the Missouri, but nothing beats that taste of the coast. It reminds me that a man can live in one place and still let his mind explore a wider world.

That idea sits close to the heart of Masonry. A Brother may come from a small town, a ranch, a city block, or a riverbank trading post, yet the teachings open his eyes to something larger than what he sees each day. Fritters might look simple, but each one has its own character, shaped by where it came from. Just like us.

Corn fritters are the everyday staple. Reliable. Honest. Much like the Blue Lodge, where a man first learns to shape himself and build a steady foundation.

Apple fritters bring warmth and comfort. They remind me of the way the York Rite deepens a Brother’s understanding, filling in the quiet spaces with meaning he didn’t know he was missing.

Hushpuppy fritters sit there without asking for attention. Still, they bring a depth that surprises you. Kind of like the Royal Arch, where the lessons stay gentle but powerful if you’re willing to listen.

Clam fritters taste like the horizon. That fits the Scottish Rite, which encourages a man to stretch his thinking and look past the limits he once assumed were fixed.

Pumpkin fritters carry a bit of sweetness and fun. That one belongs with the Shrine, where fellowship and helping children go hand in hand.

And then there are conch fritters, my personal favorite. They belong to the spirit of adventure. That matches the Brothers who travel far, build new connections, and bring others along for the journey. Every lodge has a few of those men who keep the rest of us looking forward.

Each fritter has its place, and each Masonic body brings its own flavor. Put them together and you get a table worth sitting at. A Brother might join for one reason, stay for another, and discover more about himself along the way. That’s the real feast.

So on this National Fritters Day, enjoy whatever ends up on your plate. And if you ever find yourself this far inland dreaming of a shoreline, know you’re in good company.

Peter Sarpy here, sending out a warm wave of goodwill on National Electronic Greeting Day. Funny to think a man who once...
11/29/2025

Peter Sarpy here, sending out a warm wave of goodwill on National Electronic Greeting Day. Funny to think a man who once relied on handwritten notes, river messengers, and the occasional stubborn courier is now tapping out messages that reach Brothers and friends in seconds. But the heart behind the greeting—the intention—is the same as it’s always been.

In Masonry, we talk often about *communication*, not just in the words we speak but in the spirit behind them. A simple “thinking of you,” whether carried by a rider on horseback or by a glowing screen in your pocket, can be as powerful as any working tool. It reminds us that Brotherhood is active, not passive—that we must reach out, support, encourage, and stay connected.

Today’s electronic messages, for all their speed, still echo the same lessons we learned long ago. The **plumb** teaches us to stand upright in our dealings with one another, even in quick texts. The **square** reminds us to send messages that build, not cut down. And the **compass** pushes us to keep our emotions in due bounds, even when fired off in a moment of frustration behind a keyboard.

One lesson I’ve always held close is this: a greeting doesn’t need to be grand to be meaningful. Sometimes a short message—“Hope you’re doing well,” or “You crossed my mind today”—is the modern version of a handshake at the lodge door. Small gestures reinforce the larger structure of our Brotherhood.

So on this National Electronic Greeting Day, take a moment to send a note to a Brother you haven’t talked to in a while, or a friend who might need a kind word. Strengthen the ties that hold us together. After all, we’ve come a long way from trading posts and frontier trails, but the way we treat each other is still the real measure of who we are.

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment on this Thanksgiving morning to reflect, give thanks, and, of course, talk a lit...
11/27/2025

Peter Sarpy here, taking a quiet moment on this Thanksgiving morning to reflect, give thanks, and, of course, talk a little Masonry while the kitchen starts smelling like the feast ahead.

I’ve always thought a Thanksgiving table looks a lot like our fraternity. Every dish has its own purpose, its own flavor, its own lesson—and when they all come together, the whole experience feels richer and more complete.

The stuffing, for me, is the Blue Lodge. It’s the foundation. Simple ingredients, nothing flashy, but without it the whole meal feels unfinished. You can dress it up, add odd spices, toss in fruit or sausage if you want—but in my heart, the original is best. A solid base reminds us where we start and why it matters.

The mashed potatoes—the regular kind—feel like the Scottish Rite. Smooth, comforting, built in layers, and filling in every sense. The deeper degrees are like the butter and cream slowly worked in: rich additions that elevate something already good into something memorable.

The sweet potatoes remind me of the York Rite. Familiar, but with their own distinct sweetness and symbolism. They bring color and contrast to the table, the same way the Royal Arch brings clarity and completion to a Mason’s journey.

The green bean casserole—love it or not—is our Shrine. A little louder, a little richer, a little more indulgent than the rest of the meal. It’s the dish that knows how to draw a crowd. Creamy soup, fried onions on top, and a whole lot of personality.

The pecan pie feels like the Knights of St. Andrew. A strong finish. A little bold. Crunchy, sweet, and full of depth. When you cut into it, you see the layers it’s built on, just like the service and duty that form the backbone of the Order.

Now, I know folks like to get creative with Thanksgiving—experiment with new recipes, swap in trendy dishes, rethink the old staples. But for me? A holiday grounded in gratitude deserves the classics. Stuffing, mashed potatoes (both kinds), green bean casserole, and pecan pie. Remove any one of them, and something feels missing.

Just like in Masonry, tradition isn’t a chain that holds us back—it’s a path that guides us, a reminder of the Brothers who sat at the table before us and the ones who will sit there long after.

So today, enjoy the feast, enjoy the company, and enjoy the lessons hidden in even the simplest dishes. May your homes be warm, your tables full, and your hearts steady in gratitude.

It’s Peter Sarpy here, tipping my hat for National Jukebox Day. I’ve always liked how a jukebox can bring a whole room t...
11/26/2025

It’s Peter Sarpy here, tipping my hat for National Jukebox Day. I’ve always liked how a jukebox can bring a whole room together. It doesn’t matter what you’re into—there’s a tune for everyone. Maybe you’re in the mood for “If You Have Ghost” by my favorite band, Ghost. Or maybe your kid has taken over the buttons and suddenly you’re listening to the wild, upbeat toddler techno of Lenny Pearce. And if you’re already leaning toward the holidays, you might even press play on something like “Gelatinous Cranberry Cube” by Twisted Game Songs.

Funny thing is, that jukebox reminds me a lot of Masonry. The different genres feel like the different bodies of our fraternity, each with its own rhythm, its own flavor, its own lessons:

The Blue Lodge is your classic folk and Americana—steady, grounded, the foundation of everything else.
The Scottish Rite feels more like symphonic metal—layered, deep, and packed with big ideas that build on each other.
The York Rite has the energy of old-world choral music—rooted in tradition, rich with symbolism and story.
The Shrine? That’s your brass-band parade tune—bright, lively, and always ready to lift a crowd.
And the Knights of St. Andrew bring the feel of Celtic pipes and drums—focused, disciplined, and full of brotherly purpose.

Just like a good jukebox, Masonry gives every Brother a place to find his tune. Some songs speak to you, some challenge you, and some just make you smile. But together, they create a harmony that fills the room with something bigger than any single track.

So today, pick a song—any song—and let it set the rhythm for your day. And maybe take a moment to appreciate the way our varied paths still manage to play in harmony.

It’s Peter Sarpy here, tipping my hat to National Play Day With Dad. Back when my trading post was bustling, the days co...
11/25/2025

It’s Peter Sarpy here, tipping my hat to National Play Day With Dad. Back when my trading post was bustling, the days could pile up with stress faster than the fur bundles. Every now and then, I’d bring my boy along. Even in the middle of negotiations or sorting inventory, he’d tug at my coat and ask me to play for a few minutes.

I’ll admit, it seemed counterintuitive to pause when work was heavy. But those five-minute breaks—rolling a wooden toy across the counter or letting him scribble in my ledger margins—reset my mind better than any long rest. Stepping away reminded me why the work mattered in the first place.

Masonry teaches us the same lesson. Balance matters. The 24-inch gauge isn’t just a tool—it’s a reminder to divide our time wisely: work, rest, and service to others. When we pause, even briefly, we return sharper, calmer, and more grounded. And our families, our lodges, and our communities all benefit when we show up with a clear head and a warm heart.

So today, whether your “play” is coloring, tossing a ball, building with blocks, or just sharing a laugh, give yourself permission to step away for a moment. You might be surprised how much strength those simple minutes can return.

Speaking of which… my son is now waving a handful of coloring pages at me, and I know better than to keep a young artist waiting. Time to trade my quill for a crayon.

It’s Peter Sarpy here, giving a nod to National Sardines Day and trying not to laugh at the memory of the one time someo...
11/24/2025

It’s Peter Sarpy here, giving a nod to National Sardines Day and trying not to laugh at the memory of the one time someone talked me into a sardine pizza. I wouldn’t go out of my way to order it, but if it’s set in front of me, I’ll always take a “try bite.” A man ought to at least test his courage every now and then.

That small habit reminds me of what we teach in Masonry. We’re encouraged to approach new experiences with an open mind, but also with good judgment. You don’t have to love everything you try, yet the simple act of trying builds a broader view of the world. It’s like examining a new working tool—you pick it up, study it, and see whether it helps you improve, even if it’s not something you’ll reach for every day.

Sardines themselves make a fitting symbol. Packed tight, working together in close quarters, each one supporting the next. A lodge thrives the same way. Brothers shoulder work together, share ideas, and help keep each other steady when life gets busy or difficult. No one is meant to sit alone on the far edge of the plate.

So if someone hands you something unfamiliar today, whether it’s a new task, a different opinion, or even a slice of questionable frontier pizza, take a moment and give it an honest try. You might learn something useful. And even if you decide it’s not for you, the effort strengthens your character, just like every well-aimed step in our craft.

It’s Peter Sarpy here, thinking about how different National Go For a Ride Day feels now compared to my years on the fro...
11/22/2025

It’s Peter Sarpy here, thinking about how different National Go For a Ride Day feels now compared to my years on the frontier. Today, you tap an app, your carriage starts itself, and off you go. In my time, a “quick ride” meant brushing down a horse, checking tack, tightening straps, and hoping the weather didn’t turn on you halfway down the trail.

But that extra effort taught a few lessons I still carry. Preparing a horse is a lot like preparing yourself in Masonry. You don’t jump ahead because you feel ready; you take the steps, one at a time. You check the small things. You square up your own habits the way you’d square a saddle, making sure nothing slips when the journey gets rough.

And every ride back then had purpose. Sometimes it was trade. Sometimes it was duty. Sometimes it was simply to clear the mind. That reminds me of how we travel “upon the level,” equal with our brothers, each of us moving forward at our own pace but always aiming toward improvement. A good ride has a rhythm to it, and so does good Masonry—steady, measured, intentional.

So if you head out today, even if it’s just a short drive, treat it like something more. Take a moment to appreciate the tools that make your path smoother. Think on how far you’ve come. And maybe consider whether you’re preparing yourself as carefully as I once prepared my horse—because every journey, literal or symbolic, goes better when you start by tending to the basics.

Enjoy the day, travel safely, and make your ride mean something.

It’s Peter Sarpy here, thinking back on the trail and feeling a little amused at how easy National Stuffing Day has beco...
11/21/2025

It’s Peter Sarpy here, thinking back on the trail and feeling a little amused at how easy National Stuffing Day has become. In my time, you didn’t grab a red box off a store shelf. You traded for every piece of the recipe—bread, herbs, vegetables, even salt—one by one. Half the art was finding it. The other half was convincing a fellow trader to part with it.

Those old ingredients remind me a lot of our Masonic bodies. The bread was the Lodge: steady, dependable, forming the base of everything else. The herbs were the Chapter and Council, adding depth and meaning you only notice when they’re missing. The vegetables were the Commandery—heartier work, but worth the effort. And the spices? That was the Scottish Rite, stepping in to give the whole dish a broader flavor and a little more character.

Folks like to get creative with stuffing now. Some toss in dried fruit, others mix in sausage or nuts. And every year someone swears they’ve discovered the secret to perfection by adding more sage than the Good Lord intended. I’ll let them have their fun, but to me, the original recipe still holds best. It reminds you where you came from. Simple things done well don’t need constant tinkering.

If you’re looking for a way to make today enjoyable, try a little gratitude for the people who add “ingredients” to your life. Share a story, lend a hand, invite someone to your table. And if you’re cooking, maybe test a small bowl before you go wild with the spices—just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

Whatever you make today, keep it honest, keep it hearty, and keep it shared. That’s the real flavor of the day.

Address

1908 Franklin Street
Bellevue, NE
68005

Opening Hours

Tuesday 6pm - 8pm
Wednesday 6pm - 8pm

Telephone

+14022911337

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