Our meeting this week was full of high vibes. The room was packed, we welcomed eight visitors, and there was an unmistakable sense of connection in the air. As with every last meeting of the month, we held a Club Assembly—a time set aside to share club news, attend to club business, and, most importantly, lean into who we are as Rotarians.
This month’s theme was the Four Way Test.
We set up eight tables (and included our Zoom participants) to mirror the experience we offer each year at the middle school. Each table had a facilitator. Each group was presented with an ethical question. And instead of debating from opinion or emotion, participants were invited to work their way toward an answer using the Four Way Test as their compass.
It sounds simple.
It isn’t.
Because truth is rarely tidy.
Fairness is often complicated.
“Beneficial to all concerned” can feel elusive.
What struck me most was not that every table reached the same conclusion—but that every table leaned in with curiosity, humility, and a genuine desire to understand rather than to win.
That, to me, is the real power of the Four Way Test.
And that’s the setup for the deeper reflection I’ve been carrying.
Once again, the headlines are filled with news of an American citizen killed by our own government agents. The videos are heartbreaking. The outrage is raw. The explanations feel hollow. A man who dedicated his life to serving wounded warriors now lies dead in the street, his body riddled with bullets.
How can this be happening in the United States of America?
When I return to the Four Way Test, I try—earnestly—to imagine how multiple things might simultaneously be true. I try to see from many angles. I try to make room for complexity.
And still, my heart arrives at an answer that feels clear to me—while knowing others arrive somewhere different.
That tension is unsettling.
It makes me ask hard questions:
Is the Four Way Test flawed?
Can there really be multiple truths?
Can “fair” look different depending on where you stand?
Can “beneficial to all concerned” feel impossible in a fractured world?
Is our world truly this upside down?
When Herbert J. Taylor created the Four Way Test in 1932 as a guide for ethical decision-making, I doubt he could have imagined the speed, scale, and saturation of today’s outrage cycle.
And yet…
What keeps me grounded is knowing that millions of people—Rotarians and non-Rotarians alike—still choose to let these simple questions guide their lives.
Quietly.
Steadily.
Every single day.
We keep asking:
Is it the truth?
Is it fair to all concerned?
Will it build goodwill and better friendships?
Will it be beneficial to all concerned?
Not because the answers are easy.
Not because we always get it right.
But because asking the questions matters.
It slows us down.
It softens our edges.
It reminds us that our shared humanity is bigger than our differences.
And in a world that often feels consumed by darkness, that matters more than ever.
Someday, I believe, the headlines will no longer drown out the countless daily acts of courage, compassion, and decency that rarely make the news.
Until then, we do what Rotarians have always done.
We show up.
We serve.
We listen.
We care.
We try—imperfectly, but sincerely—to be a force for good.
We may not be able to fix everything.
But we can fix something.
As I keep reminding us:
We can feed a family.
We can mentor a child.
We can welcome a stranger.
We can fund a scholarship.
We can protect our environment.
We can offer dignity where it has been stripped away.
And in doing so, we become living proof that goodness still exists.
So keep asking the questions, my friends.
Keep praying for wisdom for our leaders.
Keep Rotary strong in your hearts.
Because every small act of service is a candle in the dark.
And together…
We are a thousand points of light.
Service Above Self. Always.
With warm Rotary hugs,