Finding Balance In Leadership

Do we really need to die on that hill?

It doesn’t really matter what the Masonic group might be, a Lodge, a Temple Board, an Appendant Body, whatever it might be, one of our primary obligations to that group is doing our part to preserve harmony within it.

This is true for everyone, but especially true for those in a position of leadership.

Photo by Magic Bowls on Unsplash

Lasting and strong bonds of Brotherhood are, after all, a primary goal of our Ancient Craft, calling attention to our Working Tool, the Trowel.

So we each must, in my view, act and speak with the preservation of harmony in mind.

A good friend of mine jokes that there are some men who, standing in the middle of a vast plain would grab a shovel, just to create themselves a hill to die upon.

His point, well taken, is that not everything is worth fighting about. We do well to choose our battles carefully, not as some seemingly do, look to turn everything into a battle, or look for things to fight over.

But if we are leading some aspect of our Craft, we certainly want to make a difference. To help create something of value. To have that body which we help lead reflect ourselves, our values, and our perception of what Freemasonry should be.

This is all well, and good, and proper. Because a ‘leader’ isn’t a leader at all if he does nothing but bow to the prevailing winds, whatever direction they might blow.

Sometimes to lead, one must disrupt harmony.

But not without care and thought.

This is where choosing one’s battles comes in.

Because in order to lead well, these competing interests, indeed these competing duties, must be held in equilibrium with each other.

If as leaders we choose to fight every battle. We choose to die on every hill. We seek out things to argue about, we will be failed leaders. No one will respect our leadership, and consequently will not want to follow us. In Masonry, where a man can simply remain at home, that failure is devastating.

But some battles are worth fighting. Some arguments are worth having. Some hills must be defended to the death.

Wisdom leads us to understand which things should be let go, and which should be fought.

In the end, will it make any meaningful difference or not?

That’s a question we should ask ourselves before we argue.

In the end, will it make any meaningful difference to the Masons of our Lodge if our Tyler’s Room is painted this shade of beige or that shade of beige? Is our preferred shade worth causing disharmony within the group?

In the end, will it make any meaningful difference to the Masons of our Lodge if we carry our nation’s flag perfectly vertical or at an angle? Is our preference, or what we learned while a member of another organization worth causing disharmony within the group?

In the end, will it make any meaningful difference to the Masons of our Lodge if we insist on proper and thorough investigations of Petitioners? Is our insistence upon properly guarding the West Gate worth causing disharmony within the Lodge?

I would argue that the first two are not. Yet the third is. Knowing the difference is wisdom. Acting on that knowledge is leadership.