Guarding the West Gate of Commitment

 Every Mason understands the importance of guarding the West Gate.

Before a candidate enters the Lodge, careful attention is given to who he is, why he seeks admission, and whether he is properly prepared. The purpose is not to keep worthy men out, but to ensure that only worthy candidates are admitted. Once a man passes through the West Gate, he becomes part of the labor of the Lodge, and that decision carries lasting consequences.

Outside the Lodge, we rarely apply the same care to our commitments.

Every day, opportunities ask to be admitted into our lives. A committee seeks another volunteer. A friend asks for help. A worthy charity needs leadership. A new project promises excitement. An employer offers another responsibility. Like candidates waiting at the entrance to the Lodge, each asks for admission.

Too often we throw open the gate.

We say yes because we can. We say yes because no one else volunteered. We say yes because we don't wish to disappoint others. Only later do we discover that our calendar is overcrowded, our energy depleted, and our attention divided among too many worthy causes.

Perhaps we should guard the West Gate of our own lives as carefully as we guard the West Gate of the Lodge.

Before admitting any new commitment, I have found it useful to ask three questions.

Can I?

Should I?

What will it cost?

Within those three questions are ten tests that every new commitment should pass before it is allowed through the gate.

The First Gate: Can I?

The first examination concerns ability.

Every craftsman should ask whether he possesses the knowledge, experience, and discipline to perform the work well. Good intentions do not produce good workmanship. A commitment deserves more than our availability; it deserves our competence. If we cannot perform the work with excellence, declining the opportunity may be the most honorable decision we can make.

The examination should not end there. Worthwhile labor ought to improve the workman as well as the work. A project that develops new skills, introduces us to capable people, or expands our understanding offers rewards beyond its immediate purpose. The finest craftsmen remain students throughout their lives because every worthy task teaches something new.

Finally, every candidate must be examined for endurance. Beginning a project is easy; completing it faithfully is far more difficult. Before admitting a commitment through the West Gate, we should ask whether we possess the time and perseverance to see it through to its conclusion. Reliability is one of the finest stones a Mason can place in the temple of his reputation.

The Second Gate: Should I?

Not every worthy opportunity belongs to us.

Some problems solve themselves if given enough time. Others belong to someone else to address. Still others resist every sincere effort because the people involved have no real desire for change. Experience teaches that certain situations quietly reveal they do not wish to be repaired. Wisdom sometimes consists not in working harder, but in recognizing when our labor is unlikely to bear fruit.

Every commitment should also be measured against our purpose. Does this work strengthen our character, support our obligations, or move us toward the man we hope to become? Or is it simply another distraction disguised as an opportunity? There is an important difference between being busy and being useful, and mature judgment learns to distinguish between the two.

Finally, we should ask whether the labor will still matter after time has passed. Looking a year into the future often reveals what today's urgency conceals. Will this commitment leave behind something of lasting value, or will it simply become another forgotten obligation that consumed precious hours?

The Third Gate: What Will It Cost?

Every candidate admitted through the West Gate demands wages.

The cost of a commitment is rarely measured in dollars alone. Every new responsibility requires time that cannot be spent elsewhere. Every yes quietly becomes a no to another opportunity. The true cost of any commitment includes not only what we invest, but also what we surrender.

The payment may be even greater than time. Some responsibilities consume physical strength. Others tax our emotions, strain our relationships, or diminish our spiritual well-being. Service is noble, but service that slowly empties the man offering it ultimately serves no one well. Before opening the gate, we should honestly consider whether the price demanded is one we are willing—and able—to pay.

The Guard at the Gate

The West Gate is not guarded to prevent good things from entering.

It is guarded to ensure that only the right things enter.

Our lives deserve the same careful stewardship.

Every opportunity should pause at the gate. Every request should undergo examination. Every commitment should prove itself worthy before we admit it into our time, our energy, and our attention.

A Mason is judged not only by the work he performs, but by the wisdom he exercises before accepting the work.

Perhaps that is one of the quiet lessons hidden within the symbolism of the West Gate.

Guard it well.