Our national conversation on race, as with our national conversation on many subjects, has become increasingly defined by mistrust and entrenchment. Across the political and ideological spectrum, leading voices have contented themselves with talking only to their own factions and past one another. Stridency has come to be conflated with seriousness, courtesy with weakness, anger with credibility, and concession with betrayal. Prizing debate over dialogue, this posture results in a language designed more to win points and satisfy one’s own sense of indignation than to build understanding or make progress.

Against this backdrop, people of faith have a unique opportunity to put forward a voice that rises above the din and helps lift the conversation out of its present state of gridlock. Taking as our goal the reshaping of culture based on principles of sincere love and authentic justice, as well as the development of an outlook free of racial prejudice within individual minds and hearts, the question of what values and attitudes to adopt in this enterprise merits deep reflection. While faith-based groups are able to offer distinctive contributions at the level of substance, it is perhaps in the more subtle areas of our posture, tone, and approach that we can uniquely contribute to steering the conversation in more constructive directions. As the voices in our public discourse become increasingly combative, modes of communication that are humble, kind, and genuinely exploratory may offer a chance to step back and look at the challenge anew — a reprieve that many may not even be aware they long for.

Developing new modes of exchange requires change at the levels of both action and thought. In relation to the latter, there are important consequences to the prevailing tendency to view the pursuit of justice as a battle. While there are constructive dimensions of the language of war — including the need for vigilance, discipline, unified action, and self-sacrifice for a higher cause — there are potential pitfalls as well. With religion’s decline in influence in the world, the popular understanding of “struggle” seems to have lost more and more of its import for the interior life of the individual, while growing in weight in the social domain. There is less attention to the need to struggle with and master oneself internally, and an increasing emphasis on oppositional struggle between individuals and groups. And in a materialistic culture that glorifies competition and conflict, the dominant mode of struggle often entails the creation of a group which fights for its social issue or vision of society, casting progress as the defeat of one’s ideological adversaries.

Such an approach tends to breed resentment, sow the seeds of its own undoing, and foster a pattern of thinking and speaking that divides the social body into losers and winners, good guys and bad guys, those who “get it” and those who don’t. Forgotten is the truth, eloquently expressed by Russian author Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, that “the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.” Recognition of this insight inspires deep humility — the knowledge that we are never complete in our understanding or our testimony, and therefore frequently have something to learn from those of a differing perspective. It also induces an inclination to ensure that means are consistent with ends, that, in our desire to build a just and unified society, we do not give way to apparently expedient approaches that are divisive and will ultimately undermine the unity we seek.

At the heart of so much of humanity’s religious and moral heritage lies the golden rule: the notion that we should treat others as we ourselves would want to be treated. No doubt this principle for personal conduct has parallels at the level of social discourse — for instance, in the fact that we tend to be more influenced by the honey of a kindly tongue than the vinegar of a pointed argument. While the dominant ways of the world pit justice and compassion against one another, religious teachings reveal their underlying harmony. Either virtue, unmoderated by the other, can become destructive to the individual and society: Justice without compassion results in vindictiveness, and compassion without justice results in destructive permissiveness. Religion owes its very existence to loving educators patiently creating the conditions by which human error could be corrected and divine guidance could be received, understood, and embraced — even when that guidance directly challenged people. This truth testifies to the fact that, for any message to be communicated, both a clear voice and a hearing ear are needed; one is useless without the other.

In approaching the eminently challenging question of how to overcome racism, then, it is important to recognize that the attitudes and language we adopt have a profound impact on the responses we elicit. In the context of the daily, urgent experience of injustice and the stubborn denial of this injustice by many, it is perhaps not surprising that calling others out in judgmental ways has become normalized and that taking others to account is given more attention than reflecting on our own actions. However, while not ignoring the harsh and shameful realities of racism in this country, bringing spiritual resources to bear may allow us to confront the issue more effectively. Wisdom, as a spiritual quality that transcends knowledge, engenders a new sort of exchange — one that appeals to the nobler aspirations of our fellow citizens and that reflects assurance that the vast majority of us sincerely desire justice. An act of truth-telling is amplified by a spirit of sympathy, and a warm invitation to honest soul-searching opens a previously closed door to acknowledgement and contrition. From a spiritual perspective, a drop of kindness goes a long way toward softening the hardened clay impeding recognition, forgiveness, reconciliation, and change. In this connection, one may recall the biblical injunction to be wise as serpents and gentle as doves.

Fifty years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. — who, throughout his ministry, emphasized the uniquely generative, redemptive, and transformative power that love has on one’s enemies — spoke these words:

I know that love is ultimately the only answer to mankind’s problems. And I’m going to talk about it everywhere I go. I know it isn’t popular to talk about it in some circles today. I’m not talking about emotional bosh when I talk about love, I’m talking about a strong, demanding love. . . .  I say to you today, my friends, that you may be able to speak with the tongues of men and angels; you may have the eloquence of articulate speech; but if you have not love, it means nothing. . . .  You may even give your body to be burned and die the death of a martyr, and your spilt blood may be a symbol of honor for generations yet unborn, and thousands may praise you as one of history’s greatest heroes; but if you have not love, your blood was spilt in vain. What I’m trying to get you to see this morning is that a man may be self-centered in his self-denial, and self-righteous in his self-sacrifice. His generosity may feed his ego, and his piety may feed his pride. So without love, benevolence becomes egotism, and martyrdom becomes spiritual pride. . . .  When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds of despair, and when our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, let us remember that there is a creative force in this universe, working to pull down the gigantic mountains of evil, a power that is able to make a way out of no way and transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows.

To explore these ideas further, it may be helpful to reflect on some questions related to the current discourse on race in the United States and the unique potential of religion to be effectively engaged in this arena.