The apron is red velvet. On the flap of the apron is a head upon two crossed swords. The image represents the duty of the Scottish Rite Mason to oppose and defeat arbitrary limitations on intellectual, spiritual, and political freedom. On the apron are three triangles, one inside the other, formed of chains with triangular links. They represent the three great limitations on or enemies of the human intellect—tyranny, privilege, and superstition. Those three enemies of humanity are opposed by the three great virtues, represented by the three nested gold triangles on the jewel of the Degree. The triangles represent liberty, fraternity, and equality as well as law, order, and subordination.

The regalia also includes a sash, edged and fringed with gold. At the end of the sash is embroidered an arched bridge on which are the letters L.D.P. The original meaning of the letters is Liberté de Passer (Liberty of Passage) and Pike adds Liberté de Penser (Liberty of Thought). To be true and complete, liberty must include both the body and the mind—one must be free to move, to do, and to think.

That liberty must be fought for, and the battle is not always obvious. It's clear in those rare instances, such as World War II, where political aggression and abominable disregard of humanity are blatant. But impositions on liberty are seldom so obvious. They frequently disguise themselves in noble-sounding motives. A school board removes Romeo and Juliet, or The Wizard of Oz, or Huckleberry Finn from the school library because they offend one group or another. (And isn't it noble not to give offense?) An employer attempts to control the activities of its employees outside the workplace. (Surely it's a noble thing to preserve the "right image"?) A state passes legislation to make people do "what's good for them." (Because, left to their own devices, they would do what they wanted, not what's best.) Few things seem so typical of society as its desire to take decisions out of the hands of individuals. But if a man cannot make meaningful decisions, he is not free.

From the sash hangs a silver trowel, symbolic of the legend that the operative masons who rebuilt the Temple in Jerusalem worked with a trowel in one hand and a sword in the other. It is, as well, a powerful warning that we must always be ready to defend what has already been built, even as we try to build further.

Two great lessons are taught by the Degree. The first is that liberty is achieved slowly and by painful steps. It comes no more quickly than a nation or an individual is ready for it. Even then, it is a constant struggle to maintain it. The second is that honor and integrity are absolute, not relative or convenient. The world has often approved of dishonorable acts. Governments have even required dishonorable acts (consider the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850). The Mason must hold himself to a higher standard.

It's interesting to speculate as to why the Temple of Zerubbabel enters into the Scottish Rite system. After all, the story of the building of the Temple is complete—the symbolism that the building of the Temple represents the building both of our individual lives and of the society around us has played out nicely. Why this intrusion of the Second Temple? It may be merely a matter of moving us forward through history. But Pike was seldom concerned with chronology in the Degrees—his pattern of organization was mythic, not chronological.

Perhaps the purpose is to warn us that, no matter how carefully and skillfully we build, nor how holy or altruistic our intention, we are still building in the world, and the world has a habit of tearing down what others build. It may be a warning that the task of building our lives is never simple and straightforward. There are setbacks. Each of us can experience frustration and emotional exhaustion. Each of us may have all our plans changed by forces we cannot foresee or control. More than once, we may have to start building again from the ground up. The death of a loved one, changing economic conditions, wars, even our own continuing maturation and growing insight may send us back to the drawing board.