Freemasonry has always puzzled and attracted me. Its rituals are weird, its history is obscure and its purpose unclear. I had my first experience of it as I stood in the ladies’ toilet of Eaglescliffe Masonic Hall. Next to me a man wearing a white lambskin apron menaced me with a sword.

“Get your clothes off . . . and put your watch and rings in that tray.”

“Everything?” I asked. “Is this some sort of ritual naked mugging?”

“No,” he said, his expression totally serious. “You can keep your underpants on.”

As I pulled my trousers down, he produced what looked like rough linen pyjamas. “Put these on,” he ordered.

The glow from the single bare light bulb sparkled on his sword as he pointed. I gulped but did as I was told.

Not until much later did I begin to understand what was done to me that night; at the time I felt confused and even a little let down. I donned the pyjamas, then the swordsman opened my jacket to expose parts of my body and rolled up my sleeves and trouser legs. I could see no rhyme or reason for his actions, but he continued to fiddle with my flimsy rags until he was satisfied.

“Wait here,” he said, closing the door as he went out — as if I were likely to run out into the street and risk frostbite or arrest for indecent exposure. “Why did I get myself into this?” I thought at the time.

In the 406 years of Freemasonry’s recorded existence (the earliest minuted masonic meetings took place in Edinburgh in 1599) there have been hundreds of exposés of its ritual secrets. One of the first was a book called Three Distinct Knocks, written by Samuel Pritchard in 1760; one of the latest is Stephen Knight’s The Brotherhood, published in paperback in 1990. All have one thing in common: they quote Masonic ritual in order to expose an evil secret at its centre. After so much bad press, I decided, as a Freemason, to set the record straight in my new book, Turning the Hiram Key.

Freemasonry is a highly successful organisation that has been a powerful force in helping to shape our modern scientific and democratic society. Members such as Sir Robert Moray, the founder of the Royal Society, George Washington, the first president of the United States, Sir Winston Churchill, Britain’s wartime saviour, Wolfgang Mozart, the composer, and Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of penicillin, all drew inspiration from its rituals.

What accounts for the wide appeal that Freemasonry has had during the past four centuries and still has today? Why does Masonic ritual inspire its practitioners to become creative, balanced individuals? The traditional answer to this question has always been “it’s a secret”. But why is it a secret? Is it because Freemasons have something to hide? I am much more inclined to believe that most Freemasons simply don’t understand why Masonic ritual inspires and encourages them, and they cover up this ignorance by refusing to talk about the spiritual impact of their Masonry.

I first entered a Masonic temple blindfolded and my confusion remained for some time. Whatever other mysteries there are in Freemasonry, trying to second-guess the form of words the Lodge wants to hear when its Master asks a question is the most puzzling. At least that’s what I thought, until, in that first initiation, I experienced the oddest postural instruction I’d yet known. I heard the instruction . . . but what did they mean? Could I twist my body into such an odd position? Goodness knows what strange endorphins were released into my brain as I struggled to keep my body still, using only the kinetic feedback of my stretched muscles to judge what was happening. But only when this contorted question and answer session to “make me a Mason” was complete would the blindfold be removed.

I waited. I could feel a sense of anticipation building. There was the rustle of movement about the room, as though hidden watchers were readying themselves for some expected event. A voice rang out, in a dramatic crescendo: “Let the boon of light be bestowed.”

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