C21 Resources - Fall 2023 - Journeying in Faith Amid Polarization

Journeying in Faith amid polarization

JOURNEYING IN FAITH

The Church in the 21st Century Center is a catalyst and a resource for renewal of the Catholic Church.

C21 Resources, a compilation of the best analyses and essays on key challenges facing the Church today, is published by The Church in the 21st Century Center at Boston College, in partnership with publications from which the featured articles have been selected.

c 21 resources editorial board

Patricia Delaney

Karen Kiefer

Peter G. Martin

Michael Serazio

Melodie Wyttenbach

managing editor

Lynn M. Berardelli

guest editor

Brian D. Robinette

assistant guest editor

Megan Hopkins

the church in the 21 st century center Boston College

110 College Road, Heffernan House

Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467

bc.edu/c21 • 617-552-6845

church21@bc.edu

©2023 Trustees of Boston College

on the cover Students gathering at the Boston College Memorial Labyrinth, dedicated in memory of alumni killed on September 11, 2001.

photo credit: Boston College Division of Mission & Ministry - First Year Experience

Sseveral months ago , our dear friend Fr. Tom Stegman, S.J., former dean of the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry, was called to eternal life after a long and courageous battle with cancer. Anyone who knew Fr. Stegman knew he was on this earth to serve God by loving others. By routinely crossing the divide and engaging others in critical thinking, he was the master teacher, showing us how to live in solidarity, how to talk to others civilly, and how to respect others even when there are strong differences of opinion.

Fr. Stegman greatly admired the writings of St. Paul the Apostle, a leader of the early Church, so much so that he wrote several books on Paul over the years. Fr. Stegman and Apostle Paul had a lot in common; they were both men of great faith and intellect who lived each day knowing and sharing that Christ died for us and lives within us. Both lived lives of bringing people together in community to share in God’s love.

Apostle Paul wrote, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose” (Gal. 2:11-21).

In a world where so much can separate us, label us, and hurt us, may these great men remind us how to live united in our faith for each other and for God.

In this 36th issue of C21 Resources, Professor Brian Robinette and doctoral student Megan Hopkins curate a collection of articles on how we can use the light of our faith to guide us away from the darkness of polarization in our world. When you finish reading, I hope that you are inspired to lead others to important conversations, new perspectives, unlikely friendships, and ultimately to God.

Karen K. Kiefer Director, The Church in the 21st Century Center karen.kiefer@bc.edu

GUEST EDITOR

Brian D. Robinette is associate professor of theology at Boston College. After receiving his Ph.D. from the University of Notre Dame in 2003, he taught at Saint Louis University for nine years before moving to Boston. Brian researches and teaches in the areas of systematic, philosophical, and spiritual theology, with special interests in theologies of creation, the doctrine of God, and contemplative practice. His latest book is entitled The Difference Nothing Makes: Creation, Christ, Contemplation (Notre Dame Press, 2023).

For more information on this issue and additional resources, please visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Meeting POLARIZATION with Loving Solidarity

Brian D. Robinette

Wwhat is the role of the Church in an age of polarization? What resources can our Catholic faith offer to heal the fierce partisanship of our times? How might the sacramental imagination and wisdom of Catholic Social Teaching help transform the “us” vs. “them” mentality that holds so many in its grip? How might Christians themselves avoid the trap of polarization and become a leaven for a world in need of mutual understanding and communion? These are the questions that animate the present issue of C21 Resources.

It is commonplace to describe our current situation as polarized . Our politics are feverishly partisan and our news outlets fragmented and at odds. Schoolboard meetings and curricula spark widespread controversy, while our public institutions are subject to growing distrust. Sporting events, corporate sponsorships, social media platforms, and public demonstrations are the latest fronts in our so-called “culture wars.” Even our churches and families are increasingly the sites of contested ideologies and identity-formation, turning

what should be places of refuge and belonging into hotspots of painful dispute.

Polarization is not just any problem. It is a problem that encompasses and exacerbates many others. More of an underlying dynamic than a specific issue, polarization distorts the field of communication that allows informed discussion, healthy debate, and shared planning to take place. It is challenging enough to gain consensus on large-scale problems such as climate change, healthcare, immigration, racism, poverty, and international relations. But when a partisan mentality sets in, even a good faith effort to understand “the other side” can seem like a betrayal of values. We feel a strong affinity for those who think like us and an equally strong animus toward those who do not. We fall prey to in-group bias and insulate ourselves from acknowledging our contradictions. Meanwhile, we readily believe the worst about our rivals and suspect their motives—and at times their basic goodness. We take security in righteous indignation, certain that our

photo credit : Courtesy of Lee Pelligrini, Boston College

side is just, while the very existence of our opponents seems a threat to our tenuous identities.

LOVING SOLIDARITY: THE HEART OF THE GOSPELS

I f polarization seems to rage at a higher pitch these days, we should admit that the dynamics just described are not exactly new. The tendency to latch on to an identity in contrast with some “other”—a stranger, a rival, an enemy—seems endemic to the human condition. Little wonder that the Bible is chock full of stories about conflict: rivalries among siblings, tribes, and nations; conquests, enslavement, and the trauma of exile; a Kingdom of God ministry resulting in crucifixion; an early Christian movement trying to resist factionalism. Whatever the ultimate meaning of scriptural revelation, it is evident that the human tendency toward rivalry and conflict, along with God’s work to bring about reconciliation, is at its core.

It is striking that at the heart of the Gospels is a crucifixion. This is not because the New Testament is preoccupied with violence but because it proclaims God’s love and forgiveness precisely amid human conflict. Jesus’ entire ministry was devoted to enacting a way of life that welcomed the stranger and invited rivals to the table. It called for loving one’s enemies, praying for them, and winning their friendship.

This hardly means that Jesus avoided conflict. He was quite willing to provoke decision through his prophetic words and actions, and to this extent he may be described as a “polarizing” figure. But herein lies the difference: whereas destructive polarization presupposes some definitional contrast with the other (“us” vs. “them”), Jesus’ challenge was consistently one of inviting the other into loving solidarity. This was so much the case that Jesus was willing to give his life for the sake of the other, even praying from the cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

The early Christian movement ultimately springs from an encounter with the risen Christ, who embodies God’s reconciling love. The resurrection is not just a miraculously happy ending to a frightful affair. It is God’s concrete offer of communion where previously there was division, and it is a bracing summons to

follow Jesus through the repatterning of our desires. The essential vocation of the Christian is one of mercy and reconciliation, and thus Christian identity can never be one of “us” vs. “them.” It must be an all-inclusive “we” in the Spirit. Only when rooted in this source e xperience of God’s embracing love can the Church begin to offer resources for healing the polarization of our times.

REASONS FOR HOPE: THE ARTICLES AHEAD

It is tempting to feel fatalistic about the growing polarization all around us, but there are good reasons for hope. This is what the present C21 Resources issue means to inspire.

The articles curated here are intended to provide insight into why we are so polarized and how we can work together to overcome it. Some articles focus more on describing and diagnosing the dynamics of polarization, while others offer practical guidance for navigating conflict in our personal and public lives. By no means exhaustive, the magazine’s contents aim to be representative of the main issues and inspirational for readers to become leavening agents of mutual understanding and communion.

The voices featured in this issue cover quite a spectrum: there are students, teachers, and faculty administrators; there are lay persons and clergy; there are politicians and journalists; there are men and women representing various races and generations; there are public intellectuals and more domestic perspectives. But, above all, there is a chorus of voices informed by a Catholic imagination and eager to share insight and practical advice for healing polarization.

As Pope Francis recently put it, “polarization is not Catholic.” Indeed, the very meaning of “catholic” (Gk. katholikos) is “universal,” or “on the whole.” Wholeness in this sense is aspirational and dynamic, not enclosed and uniformist. With this aspirational and dynamic spirit in mind, may the readers of this magazine find themselves newly stirred and prepared to realize Jesus’ prayer, “May they all be one” (John 17:21). ■

Brian D. Robinette is the guest editor of this issue of C21 Resources .

The essential vocation of the Christian is one of mercy and reconciliation, and thus Christian identity can never be one of “us” vs. “them.“ It must be an allinclusive “we” in the Spirit.

Dean Michael C. McCarthy, S.J., following his first Mass for the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry community.

the call to a Better Kind of Politics

Iin his encyclical Fratelli Tutti , Pope Francis urges Catholics and all people of good will to seek “a better kind of politics, one truly at the service of the common good” (no. 154). But what does Pope Francis mean by a better kind of politics? In order to unpack this phrase, we need to understand how the Church understands “politics.” Catholics in the United States might make an understandable assumption that “politics” refers to partisan activities that occur during election season, including efforts by political parties to promote one candidate over the other, or “parallel monologues” masquerading as dialogue on television (no. 200). These kinds of activities are not what Pope Francis is referring to when he urges us to “a better kind of politics.”

Rather, Pope Francis is referring to those activities through which we can bring the light of our faith to the public square in order to further integral human development, solidarity, justice, and the common good. Our engagement can take a variety of forms.

ONGOING ENGAGEMENT

Regularly participating in elections locally and nationally is an important form of political engagement that receives a lot of attention, but just as important (though less glamorous) are ongoing activities such as involvement in city council meetings or on school boards, k nowing how and where funding is allocated in our communities, understanding what issues most impact our neighborhoods, studying what cycles of poverty are working against our neighbors, and participating in processes that advocate for positive change.

These are all examples of how Catholics can practice what Pope Francis describes as “political charity.” He writes, “For whereas individuals can help others in need, when they join together in initiating social processes of fraternity and justice for all, they enter the ‘field of charity at its most vast, namely political charity.’ This entails working for a social and political order whose soul is social charity. Once more, I appeal for a renewed appreciation of politics as ‘a lofty vocation and one of the highest forms of charity, inasmuch as it seeks the common good’” (no. 180). When we participate in the above activities, we are engaging in politics appropriate to our call and responsibility as people of faith. Yet, as human beings, there may be times when our engagement does not reflect the charity to which we are called. For example, we may engage in personal attack or insult on social media, fail to seek the truth,

or be afraid to critically examine positions of groups to which we may belong. We may fall into these activities as individuals, or we may observe these negative habits in the actions of our elected officials.

ENGAGING WITH LOVE

We must engage with charity and respect. We must break down walls and build the culture of encounter. In our communities, we must also engage with these principles in mind. We build “a better kind of politics” by identifying common values. We listen to understand. We seek the truth together. We pursue the common good through shared values, and we respond to the call “to sustain hope, to be a sign of unity…to build bridges, to break down walls, to sow seeds of reconciliation” (no. 276).

Each of us has a role to play in ensuring that our systems reflect a commitment to human dignity. The political process is not reserved solely for those who hold office or official positions. Authentic engagement can take many forms but is always rooted in our recognition of one another as beloved children of God. We have a responsibility to care for each other not just in words and thoughts but in action. Working together toward that end means being engaged in the political process in ways that reflect these values: “The development of a global community of fraternity based on the practice of social friendship on the part of peoples and nations calls for a better kind of politics” (no. 154).

GOSPEL CALL

As humans, we organize ourselves in families, in towns, and in countries. The policies of each of these spheres express our values as a people. We put our Gospel call to love one another into action by advocating for policies that support the flourishing of all people. The means through which we engage and how we work with one another should also reflect our values. This is a better kind of politics. ■

above: For more information from the USCCB, visit: usccb.org/civilizeit

right: An excerpt from an interview with Pope Francis and America Media representatives at his residence at Santa Marta at the Vatican.

United States Catholic Conference of Bishops (USCCB)

POLARIZATION IS NOT CATHOLIC. A Catholic cannot think either-or (aut-aut) and reduce everything to polarization. The essence of what is Catholic is both-and (et-et). The Catholic unites the good and the not so good. There is only one people of God. When there is polarization, a divisive mentality arises, which privileges some and leaves others behind. The Catholic always harmonizes differences. If we see how the Holy Spirit acts, it first causes disorder: think of the morning of Pentecost, and the confusion and mess (lío) it created there, and then it brings about harmony. The Holy Spirit in the Church does not reduce everything to just one value; rather, it harmonizes opposing differences. That is the Catholic spirit. The more harmony there is between the differences and the opposites the more Catholic it is. The more polarization there is, the more one loses the Catholic spirit and falls into a sectarian spirit. This [saying] is not mine, but I

repeat it: what is Catholic is not either-or, but is both-and, combining differences. And this is how we understand the Catholic way of dealing with sin, which is not puritanical: saints and sinners, both together. [And] it is interesting to search for the roots of what is Catholic in the choices that Jesus made. Jesus had four possibilities: either to be a Pharisee, or to be a Sadducee, or to be an Essene, or to be a Zealot. These were the four parties, the four options at that time. And Jesus was not a Pharisee, nor a Sadducee, nor an Essene, nor a Zealot. He was something different. And if we look at the deviations in the history of the Church, we can see that they are always on the side of the Pharisees, of the Sadducees, of the Essenes, of the Zealots. Jesus went beyond all this by proposing the Beatitudes, which are also something different. —Pope Francis in an interview with America (November 22, 2022)

We have a responsibility to care for each other not just in words and thoughts, but in action.

Witness to Unity

Iin recent years , a new term has entered the vocabulary of commentators on American politics—“political sectarianism.” The word “sect” traditionally has been used within religious discourse to designate a minority group with differing beliefs from the majority. Often there is a connotation of heresy when designating a religious group as sectarian. The team of social scientists who first used the phrase in their political research stated that they chose the word “sectarianism” because the “foundational metaphor for political sectarianism is religion,” revealing a “strong faith in the moral correctness and superiority of one’s sect.”

For these observers of American politics, political sectarianism entails three interrelated characteristics:

1) “othering,” a tendency to view opposing partisans as alien or essentially different; 2) “aversion,” a tendency to dislike and distrust opposing partisans; and 3) “moralization,” a tendency to view opposing partisans as morally flawed. The reasons why political sectarianism has developed and spread are several, but a major f actor is that political identity has transformed into

a “mega-identity” that subsumes the other identities people have.

There has always been political partisanship in the United States; many of the founders worried about political factions undermining a sense of the nation’s common good. Yet one factor that prevented political partisanship from becoming dominant was that citizens had multiple identities which, as one prominent social scientist observed, were “cross-cutting.” That is, many Americans had rich associational lives—churches, bowling leagues, labor unions, professional associations, fraternal and sororal clubs, neighborhood organizations, recreational groups—and all these sorts of associations brought people from different backgrounds into contact with one another. As a result, social trust was deepened, and social tolerance was learned. A person might have loyalties to a political party or specific candidate, but they also had ties to groups or colleagues that pulled them in a different direction or tempered their zeal. Increasingly, that “cross-cutting” influence is on the wane as the major political parties

Kenneth Himes, O.F.M.

From the Royal Academy of Arts collection, Paul preaching in the Areopagus (1729–31) by Sir James Thornhill (1675/76–1734) depicts St. Paul preaching in Athens. Thornhill's oil painting on canvas is based on a preparatory drawing originally created by Raphael (1483–1520) in 1515/16.

have sorted themselves along geographic, educational, religious, racial, and ethnic lines. At one time, liberals and conservatives were found in both parties, but now they are clearly located within the Democratic and Republican parties, respectively. And so, today one’s political identity now becomes the placeholder for all other identities.

A ROLE FOR THE CHURCH?

Amidst the deep divisions and harsh rancor of contemporary U.S. politics, is there anything that the C atholic community can offer to our society? Is not the U.S. Church itself as divided and polarized as the rest of the country? There is evidence that may be so; and yet, there may be a lesson available to the Church from our past.

In another time and place, admittedly a very different time and place, t here were factions within a group that led to a crisis of identity among its membership. The time was around 55 A.D., and the place was Corinth, a seaport town in Greece. The Christian community there had been established by St. Paul a few years earlier, but he had been getting reports of divisions within the community for some time after his departure. He writes to his brothers and sisters in Corinth and “begs” them “in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” to stop quarreling among themselves. “Let there be no factions, rather, be united in mind and judgment” (1 Cor 1:10-11). The problem was that the community was split over whose apostolic preaching they preferred. “One of you will say, ‘I belong to Paul,’ another, ‘I belong to Apollos,’ still another, ‘Cephas has my allegiance,’ and the fourth, ‘I belong to Christ.’ Has Christ, then, been divided into parts?” (1 Cor 1:12-13a). For Paul, this factionalism was a disaster since it was apparent by such argument that the Corinthians had lost their identity, had forgotten who was crucified for them, in whose name they were baptized, through whom God had given them new life. Paul acknowledges that he and other apostles played a role in the foundation of the community, but then asks, “After all, who is Apollos? And who is Paul? Simply ministers through whom you became believers, each of them doing only what the Lord assigned him. I planted the seed and Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. This means that neither he who plants nor he who waters is of any special account, only God, who gives the growth” (1 Cor 3:5-7).

Later in the same letter, Paul acknowledges that there is legitimate diversity in the Corinthian community. There are a variety of talents and gifts, but these must be put forward as ways to build up, not tear down, the unity of the Corinthians. “There are different gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good” (1 Cor 12:4-7). Paul then proceeds to elaborate on the analogy of the human body: “the body is one and has many members, but all the members, many though they are, are one body” (1 Cor 12:12). He concludes his discussion of the diversity within the unity of the body with the simple truth that was meant to bring the Corinthians to their senses: “You, then, are the body of Christ. Every one of you is a member of it” (1 Cor 12:27).

For Paul, it was the claim that before the Corinthians were anything they were part of the body of Christ that was meant to heal the factionalism. Whatever other identity there might be—one’s family, one’s profession, one’s class or status in society, one’s ethnicity—none of those ways of thinking of oneself was comparable to the foundational identity of being a member of the body of Christ.

So much of the polarization in our Church seems rooted in a loss of primary identity. We as Catholics should accept legitimate diversity within the Church, as long as we acknowledge our primary identity as members of the body of Christ. Our political allegiances and preferences matter, but t hey ought not be what defines us. Our fundamental identity is not first liberal or conservative, socialist or free-marketeer, woke or not—it is that we are members of the one body of Christ.

To be a community in our parishes, our schools, our wider Church that witnesses to unity amidst diversity, to proclaim the dignity of all and show respect to a ll despite differences—this might be the gift that our nation needs most from a Church that knows itself to be first and foremost the body of Christ in the world. ■

Kenneth Himes, O.F.M., is a university professor emeritus of theology at Boston College. His research and writing focus on ethical issues in war and peacebuilding, the development of Catholic Social Teaching, the role of religion in American public life, and fundamental moral theology.

Sources for this article can be found at: bc.edu/c21polarization

So much of the polarization in our Church seems rooted in a loss of primary identity.

What’s Driving the Hatred

Clark Merrefield

Iit hardly bears rehashing that Democrats and Republicans view the 2020 general election in moralistic, good-versus-evil terms. Case in point: an October 19, 2020 survey from the nonprofit, nonpartisan Public Religion Research Institute finds 78% of Democratic respondents think the Republican Party has been overtaken by racists while 81% of Republican respondents think the Democratic Party has been overtaken by socialists.

Political scientists in recent years have used various terms to describe America’s deep political divide, including “affective polarization,” “social polarization,” a nd “tribalism.” The authors of a new paper in Science settle on “sectarianism” as most reflective of the current political state, in which Democrats and Republicans dislike members of the other party more than they like members of their own.

“The existing words don’t incorporate the moral component,” says Northwestern University Social Psychology Professor Eli Finkel, one of the paper’s 15 authors. “They don’t fully capture this idea that our views are morally right in this absolute sense.”

The core of tribalism, for example, is kinship— members of a tribalistic group feel a familial bond with one another. The core of sectarianism, by contrast, is religion, faith, and “moral correctness and superiority of one’s sect,” the authors explain.

In other words, a political sect isn’t bonded in the way that a family is—a brother and sister might drive each other crazy but still innately love each other and remain bonded by blood. The authors argue that American political sects are bonded by faith that their side is morally superior to the other—echoing the ties that sometimes bind the religiously faithful. The effect is that politicians have little incentive to represent all their constituents in policy and lawmaking, since political sectarians rarely cross the aisle to vote for candidates outside their party.

There might be some logic to sectarianism if Democrats and Republicans disagreed not solely based on their party identification but on the underlying ideas their parties push. That’s not the case, according to the

authors, citing the 2015 paper, “Red and Blue States of Mind: Partisan Hostility and Voting in the United States” in Political Research Quarterly

The authors of the new paper, “Political Sectarianism in America,” explain that “the causal connection b etween policy preferences and party loyalty has become warped, with partisans adjusting their policy preferences to align with their party identity.”

It is not a purely academic exercise to develop accurate language to describe America’s fractured politics. Rhetorical precision can help people understand real-life consequences, like the potential for violence on and after Election Day.

“The issue is when things get sectarianized, when the other side is so iniquitous—‘those people are just so awful’—then the stakes seem high enough that violence in pursuit of your political aims becomes less unacceptable, that the violation of democratic principles becomes less unacceptable,” Finkel says. “That makes sense because these are moral tradeoffs: ‘I could compromise a little bit of democracy if it will increase the likelihood that the other side stays out of office.’”

IT’S GETTING COLD IN HERE

Researchers at American National Election Studies (ANES), a collaboration between Stanford University and the University of Michigan, have for decades produced surveys during national election years that ask participants how “hot” or “cold” they feel about opposing parties. Researchers specifically ask about “feelings toward some of our political leaders and other people who are in the news these days.”

Participants then rate their feelings toward politicians on a temperature-like scale, with 100 degrees b eing “very warm or favorable,” 50 degrees indicating no feeling, and 0 degrees being “very cold or unfavorable.” The final result is what ANES calls “feeling t hermometers.” Political scientists commonly use ANES feeling thermometers in research on polarization.

Dubbing it the “ascendance of political hatred,” the authors of the current paper use results from the past 40 years of ANES feeling thermometers to show that Democrats and Republicans “have grown more contemptuous of opposing partisans for decades, and at similar rates.” Since 2012, “this aversion [has] exceeded their affection for copartisans.”

P ut another way, sectarian political divisions have become so entrenched over the past decade that Democrats and Republicans dislike members of the other party more than they like members of their own party. And yet, “political sectarianism is neither inevitable nor irreversible,” according to the authors.

THREE REASONS—THREE SOLUTIONS

The authors, an interdisciplinary group of political scientists, psychologists, and sociologists, offer three reasons for the rise of American political sectarianism.

The first has to do with demographic sorting between the Democratic and Republican parties. The parties tend to cleanly sort between liberals and conservatives as well as by educational, racial, religious, and geographic categories. These “mega-identities,” as the authors put it, can “change other identities, as when partisans alter their self-identified religion, class, or sexual orientation to align with their political identity.”

The authors note that this sorting by ideology and demographics has happened concurrent with Republicans and Democrats overestimating their aggregate differences.

“For example,” they write, “Republicans estimate that 32% of Democrats are LGBT when in reality it is 6%; Democrats estimate that 38% of Republicans earn over $250,000 per year when in reality it is 2%,” citing the 2018 paper “The Parties in Our Heads: Misperceptions

The final reason the authors offer for American sectarianism is that politicians and political elites themselves are more likely today to push ideologically extreme ideas and language, “with Republican politicians moving further to the right than Democratic p oliticians have moved to the left.” Politicians in the major political parties have also become more financially reliant on donors who hold extreme ideas, the authors explain.

Yet there are pathways, both in terms of policy and personal accountability, to reduce political sectarianism, according to the authors.

T he first pathway: individuals who take it upon themselves to understand and correct misconceptions about members of the other party and to communicate directly with them. Such efforts may also include civil, religious, and media leaders who are committed to “bridging divides,” the authors write.

Social media interventions are another way to reduce sectarianism. Interventions might include crowdsourced judgments of news source quality being baked into algorithms so that hyper-partisan or false content doesn’t often show up in users’ news feeds.

The final pathway toward reduced sectarianism in America involves incentives for politicians to avoid polarizing language and policies. The authors suggest these incentives might include campaign finance reform and minimizing partisan gerrymandering to “generate more robust competition in the marketplace of political ideas” and elect fewer extremists to the federal government.

About

Party Composition and Their Consequences”

in The Journal of Politics

The second reason that the authors point to is partisanship in broadcast news media, particularly since Ro nald Reagan’s presidential administration ended the Federal Communications Commission’s fairness doctrine in 1987.

Under the fairness doctrine, if radio and television broadcasters wanted to keep their FCC licenses, they had to offer a fair opportunity for contrasting viewpoints to be heard on issues of national importance, s uch as presidential campaigns. The doctrine wasn’t without critics, but its termination presaged the rise of conservative pundits and news networks, like Rush Limbaugh and Fox News, and the leftward turn of networks like CNN and MSNBC. Today, social media echo chambers play an outsize role in perpetuating political sectarianism, according to the authors.

“In a very real sense, the government kind of does start with us,” Finkel says. “If we have the inclination, we as in the general populace, to say, ‘I am going to try to resist the most polarizing elements on my side or the other side and not retweet the most outraged people but rather the people trying to listen,’ if we get a groundswell of that, I think there’s a chance we could start to make a real dent in these problems.” ■

Clark Merrefield is an author for The Journalist’s Resource , following roles as a reporter for Newsweek and The Daily Beast , a researcher and editor of books, and communications strategist for the federal government.

This article was originally published in The Journalist’s Resource , a p roject of the Harvard Kennedy School’s Shorenstein Center on Media, Politics, and Public Policy (October 29, 2020), and is reprinted with permission.

In a very real sense, the government kind of does start with us.

photo credit : Brais Seara/Getty Images

Why are we at each other's throats?

Healing Our CHURCH

positions or ideas that necessarily gather people to resolve whatever is at the root of the dissonance; they depend upon what they share in common to navigate their differences. Polarization is a matter of two opposing (rather than different) ideas organizing the whole of an existence. Think about the pattern iron filings form as they are arranged by the two poles of a magnet. When people are polarized, they define themselves against the other pole. The poles determine everything. In a situation of conflict, it is commonality that organizes debate. In one of polarization, difference organizes it. In fact, polarization often prevents the healthy conflict groups need in order to move past what divides them. Although conflict can be healthy, polarization never is.

Which brings us to the differences among today's Catholics as we compare them to the past. Previously, the divisions were a “Catholic problem.” When Italian Catholics were frustrated that their traditions were being looked down upon by their coreligionists, at least when they left their ethnic ghetto they were reminded how much they shared with other Catholics; they were, in fact, very different from non-Catholics. Now the axis is political and runs not just through our parish or diocese but through the whole of American life. From divisions of Protestant, Catholic, or Jewish, we are now, as Catholics, grouped into a liberal or conservative binary, a binary that is reinforced in our jobs, leisure, home life, political commitments, and more.

FACTORS FOR A POLARIZED CATHOLICISM

Ppeople say our society is getting increasingly polarized, but is it true? We have heard the rhetoric and the vitriol, but is this just what improves ratings? If it bleeds, it leads? Is this so-called “culture war” really just fought among leaders and the media, or is polarization a fact that touches the rest of us? Further, is this polarization also happening among American Catholics? If so, how can we heal?

CATHOLIC DIVISION IN THE U.S. EXPERIENCE

As Holly Taylor Coolman discusses in her essay in Polarization in the US Catholic Church: Naming the Wounds, Beginning to Heal , polarization and conflict are not the same thing. Conflict is a problem with

I want to lift up two important factors that continue to increase and sustain polarization among American Catholics: an increasing sense of individual moral authority and parish choice. Beginning with individual m oral authority, as William D’Antonio and his team demonstrate in American Catholics in Transition , Catholics are increasingly saying that the final moral authority on an issue is not the bishops or the bishops and laity together, but only with the individual involved. For example, in 1987, 31 percent of Catholics said that the moral authority concerning divorce and remarriage lies with individuals alone. By 2011, that figure rose to 47 percent. As Phillip Hammond discusses in Religion and Personal Autonomy: The Third Disestablishment in America , this individualist shift is present even in more conservative traditions. With a greater sense of their own moral authority, both progressive and conservative Catholics can feel more at home in political identities as Republicans (eschewing teaching on the death penalty or government assistance for those in poverty) or Democrats (minimizing teaching on abortion or assisted suicide). Parish choice also feeds into polarization. Sociologist Tricia Bruce’s Parish and Place: Making Room for Diversity in the American Catholic Church examines the recent increase in personal parishes; that is, parishes canonically designated for a particular population (e.g., Vietnamese Catholics) rather than a particular territory. While many personal parishes serve ethnic groups, they increasingly serve Catholics desiring a parish that celebrates the Latin Mass or places the social mission of the Church at its center. People are choosing parishes based on identity. These personal parishes can isolate—or

photo credit

: Anna Godeassi, annagodeassi.com

Maureen Day

contain, depending on the perspective—Catholics on the ideological margins. This makes parishes more homogenous, leaving Catholics with parishes that act as ideological echo chambers.

VISIONS FOR A POST-POLARIZED CHURCH

Clearly there are formidable challenges to moving toward a more unified Church. The way to heal this is to end polarization qua polarization, shifting it into political diversity. In this way, we can transform what we are experiencing as a weakness into a strength, a move toward appreciating what Michele Dillon calls the “interpretive diversity” of our faith in her Postsecular Catholicism: Revelance and Renewal . Rather than having poles and opposition organizing American Catholic political discourse, we can listen to the ways Catholics of varying political stripes use both their experiences and Church teaching to navigate the vagaries of our complex social world. In this way, we can move from a sense of derision to interdependence; we’ll see the value in perspectives that differ from our own and use these to move toward a common ground rooted in our faith. Here are six things I’d suggest for getting there.

Building relationships. We aren’t doing too well on the relationship front. Robert Putnam, a sociologist of social capital, writes in Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community that when Americans were asked how many close friends they had in 1985, the average number was three, with the most common answer being two. By 2004, the average number of close friends fell to two, and the most common response was zero. Zero. We’ve lost our social embeddedness. Strengthening our interpersonal connections and trust may help our sense of social trust as well.

Being uncomfortable. However, just strengthening our interpersonal relationships alone could exacerbate polarization. As I said above, we tend to socialize with others like ourselves, be it according to politics, race, age, income, and more. Try also to be around those who are different from you, crossing social boundaries when the opportunities arise. The more you are around those with different experiences, the more you will hear different perspectives. Hearing those new perspectives from friends and acquaintances will make you more empathic and understanding of strangers whose opinions might diverge from your own.

Starting with what is held in common. After we strengthen our relationships and add more diverse connections to these, we are ready to begin productive conversations. Whether these conversations are informal between two people or carefully coordinated at a parish or diocesan level, they need to begin with what the parties have in common. These commonalities might be more general—a sacramental vision of the world—or more specific—a commitment to lower abortion rates. Imagine if a small group of ideologically diverse people at a parish led a committee that would constantly guide the parish back to the shared mission whenever events began to rock the community. Making explicit what everyone has in common allows for everyone to regroup and go back to what is foundational when disagreements arise.

Recognizing the differences between disagreeing with principles and disagreeing with the p rudential application of those principles. Our conversations will have disagreement. Disagreements can be incredibly productive both for better understanding another perspective as well as for coming up with effective solutions. It is critical in these discussions to know exactly what we are disagreeing about. For example, in a discussion about how a parish might help reduce the local abortion rates, some might propose political efforts to criminalize abortion, while others may find that inappropriate. Further conversation will, I believe, reveal that it is a disagreement over means, and not a disagreement over the dignity of the human person. Encountering disagreements with goodwill will help illuminate the true nature of the conflict and keep conversation centered on the common project.

Dialoguing rather than debating. Too often we debate. There is nothing wrong with a good-natured sparring of ideas. But debates have sides; one side wins and the other loses. For a Church in need of healing, debate is not an appropriate method. We need to opt for dialogue. People dialoguing hold their desired outcomes loosely, believing there is more wisdom in the room than their own. Dialogue helps us to understand a different perspective, even while we don’t agree with it. We will come away with a better sense of the concerns and discernment of others. Dialogue emphasizes process and allows for loose ends.

Care. Really. If we do everything else well, but ultimately don’t care, there is slim chance our efforts will bear fruit. Belittling others or otherwise getting snarky undermines any preceding work. Holding tight to a personal, rather than a shared, agenda will derail the project. Being invested in one another as people and as co-creators as well as working together in great hope, faith, and imagination are critical to healing. “Losing” with humility—acknowledging the possibility that the Holy Spirit can work in ways beyond our comprehension—helps us to maintain communion when we are disappointed with an outcome.

In short, to heal our polarization we need charity. We need to grow charity in ourselves, in our parishes, and in our world. Charity will help to rebuild the personal and social trust that has slowly eroded. It will take hard work, a lot of patience, an anticipation of setbacks, and a long-term vision. Ultimately, charity will move us from one another’s throats to one another's hearts. Let’s roll up our sleeves and begin to breathe easy and love deeply. ■

This article excerpt was originally published in the National Catholic Reporter (November 30, 2018) and is reprinted by permission of NCR Publishing Company. www.NCROnline.org

To read the full article visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Maureen K. Day is an associate professor at the Franciscan School of Theology and is the editor of Young Adult American Catholics: Explaining Vocation in Their Own Words .

P Journeying Together

pope francis has made synodality the leitmotif of his papacy. Synodality is most fundamentally about Christians “journeying together.” It requires the ecclesial h abit of careful listening to one another and a willingness to address inevitable conflict in a spirit of charity—confident that in doing so the Church can best discern the impulse of the Spirit. Yet we continue to face substantial obstacles to t he realization of synodality in the life of the Church.

IDENTITARIAN POLARIZATION

At the 2016 consistory, Pope Francis warned of the “virus of polarization” and called for the Church to be a force for healing the deep divisions in our society. Yet the Church, too, carries the virus. Polarization results from forces that create a clustering around two opposed poles. When applied to the cultural realm, polarization is not simply about disagreement; it is about the inability to address disagreements constructively within a larger framework of mutual respect. Differences are accentuated and coalesce around two extreme poles, with the inevitable thinning out of the middle of the spectrum where common ground can most often be found. Polarization precludes meaningful conversation, solidarity, and t he prospect of constructive action in the face of shared problems.

Once we identify ourselves with a particular group, there is an extraordinary pull to make common cause with those in our group and to defend our group against the attacks of others. Rational argumentation becomes compromised because, in a given conflict, argument is governed less by the pursuit of truth than by “confirmation bias,” or what Yale Law Professor Dan Kahan refers to as “identity-protective cognition.” This cognitional habit is highly resistant to factual information or counterarguments that would challenge our group identity; we have a deep-felt need for “our people” to be right. Indeed, “getting it right,” as an expression of a rigorous commitment to getting at the truth

of things, regardless of the consequences, becomes less important t han protecting our tribal identities. It is not difficult to recognize identity-protective cognition at work in the Church. Progressive “social justice” Catholics who advocate for racial justice will be inclined to dismiss out of hand challenges to elements of critical race theory, for example, because acknowledging the legitimacy of even the most modest concerns might call into question their social justice bona fides. Conservative “pro-life” Catholics similarly engage in identity-protective cognition when they advocate for the appointment of jurists committed to overthrow Roe v. Wade while

Richard R. Gaillardetz

Palm Sunday procession leading into Easter week (2023), Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts.

ignoring whether the reversal of that court ruling would lead to the actual reduction of abortions.

HOW CAN THE CHURCH RESPOND?

Identitarian polarization must be confronted with a set of concrete ecclesial practices. Such practices will find warrant in Jesus’ own liberative ministry and teaching about the reign of God: the radical practice of open table fellowship, the refusal to place the adulterous woman under judgment, his injunction to pray for one’s enemies. Nothing about this will be easy.

Our first Jesuit pope has consistently pressed for the practice of communal discernment as an antidote to these cultural forces. Genuine communal discernment is committed to listening together for the voice of the Spirit along with a determination to follow where the Spirit leads. This communal discernment embraces necessary conflict and disagreement. It recognizes the inevitable limits of any one perspective and encourages an open posture toward alternative points of view. Above all, it demands the cultivation of empathy for one’s opponent.

One concrete response to the demands of our current moment would be to pursue opportunities for “in-group contrarianism.” In-group contrarians locate themselves within a larger group, sharing its fundamental beliefs, values, and goals while objecting to a particular policy, line of argument, or stratagem advocated by the group. An example from American partisan politics would be those Republicans who formed the “Lincoln Project” to oppose Trumpism within the GOP. Or consider those within the LGBT community who advocate caution and careful accompaniment when an adolescent claims a gender identity other than that assigned at birth and requests gender reassignment surgery.

In-group contrarians within the Catholic social justice movement, for example, might challenge their colleagues to end their awkward silence regarding the rights of the vulnerable unborn. In-group contrarians who inhabit a more conservative Catholic space might push back against selective doctrinal and moral purity tests for the reception of the Eucharist, which, Pope Francis reminds us, is not “a prize for the perfect.”

In the increasingly polarized discourses of academic Catholic theology, in-group contrarians who engage in contextual and liberationist approaches might have to risk their progressive credentials by raising awkward questions regarding not only the real contributions but also the potential limitations of critical instruments like feminist gender theory, queer theory, decolonial

theory, and critical race theory. In-group contrarians who traffic in the Catholic ressourcement theological circle might need to stand up and insist on the limits and blind spots evident in the Great Tradition and invite their colleagues to grapple with the patriarchal and racist biases that may be “baked in” to central Catholic institutional structures.

Finally, liturgical practice commends itself for our consideration. Could we not return to the liturgy as a space for ecclesial healing and reconciliation? How can we find more opportunities to gather together at the liturgy with those who do not belong to our in-group?

For this to happen, we will need to set aside our “liturgy wars” and resist the current ecclesial sorting in which liberal and conservative Catholics migrate to parishes that exhibit their particular liturgical preferences. For liturgically conservative Catholics, this might mean forsaking ostentatious displays of eucharistic piety (e.g., priests dramatically lingering at the elevation, communicants equally dramatically genuflecting prior to eucharistic reception). It would require liturgically liberal Catholics to resist an excessive informality (e.g., priests presiding as if they were talk show hosts, the liturgical assembly performing the sign of peace as if it were a “hug fest” at a family reunion).

As we follow the lead of Pope Francis in our striving to become a more authentically synodal Church, we must continue to press for institutional reforms that can make synodality a reality at every level of ecclesial life. However, these efforts at institutional reform will go for naught if they are not accompanied by concrete practices that can respond effectively to both the tribalizing forces of our time and the dangerous misrepresentation and escalation of conflict. ■

Richard R. Gaillardetz is the Joseph Professor of Catholic Systematic Theology at Boston College and the former chair of the BC Theology Department.

This article excerpt was originally published by Richard R. Gaillardetz, “Reflections on Impediments to Synodality,” in Worship (Vol. 96, No. 1, January 2022), and is reprinted with the permission of Liturgical Press.

For the full article and its sources, visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Genuine communal discernment is committed to listening together for the voice of the Spirit along with a determination to follow where the Spirit leads.

Julie Schumacher Cohen

I learning in conflict Explore Ignatian Dialogue

it has become axiomatic to observe that the United States is highly polarized. In a 2020 Pew Research Center poll, eight in ten registered voters in both political camps said “their differences with the other side were about core American values.” Not only is the public divided substantively about policy issues, but it is marked by what political scientists call “affective polarization,” with increased distrust and dislike impacting social relationships. In addition to these tensions, the country is also not immune to political violence, as was displayed during the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6, 2021.

As future leaders, college students are an important part of our civic reality; this national context is the environment in which they are learning. The 2016 American Freshman survey called that cohort of incoming students “the most politically polarized” in its history.

In 2017 at the University of Scranton, a team of faculty and staff colleagues began a program called Bursting our Political Bubbles: Dialogue Across Differences. Through co-curricular dialogues on such topics as immigration, the NFL kneeling protests, guns, and cancel culture, we seek to help students better understand others’ perspectives and what values, experiences, and motivations undergird them. We have worked with nonprofit partner Essential Partners to incorporate their reflective, structured methods.

In keeping with intergroup “contact theory,” the dialogue groups are designed to foster “equal status” with a communication agreement that: sets time limits, so that no one voice dominates; allows participants to “pass” if they are not ready or do not wish to respond; and clarifies that “civility does not mean lack of dissent” to make space for necessary disagreement.

Such dialogue is not new. Back in the 16th century, St. Ignatius of Loyola provided his own guidance to the Jesuits attending the Council of Trent, urging the Fathers to “understand the meaning, learnings and wishes of those who speak” and to express views with “humility and sincerity.” Communication across difference has also long been promoted by political theorists, such as Jurgen Habermas, John Stuart Mill, and Hannah Arendt, as beneficial to citizens in a democracy.

So what does such dialogue yield? Working with faculty partners Teresa Grettano (English &

Theatre) and Jessica Nolan (Psychology), we designed a mixed-methods approach to assessing the effectiveness of political dialogues.

Our goal was not to change anyone’s attitude about a particular topic, but rather to shift participants’ attitudes toward the “other” and engaging around contentious issues. Our results to date have shown that participation in a single dialogue session can increase participants’ willingness to engage in dialogue across differences going forward; it can also result in a lowering of the perception that political dialogue is a “waste of time.”

The latter was underscored by March 2022 dialogue participants who conveyed that despite widening political differences which make dialogue harder than ever—due to COVID-19, contentious elections, and the murder of George Floyd—the surfacing of inequities and tensions does create an opportunity to address long-standing American problems.

Students completing post-dialogue essays have also revealed more about their learning, which may be understood in terms of three categories offered by education scholar Rachel Wahl: “hermeneutic,” where it deepens understanding of other people; “deliberative,” where it increases understanding of political issues; and “process,” where it builds capacity for difficult conversations.

We see “hermeneutic” learning in a student who shared that the dialogue “helped me to know [my peers] beyond their name/major/hometown.” “Deliberative” learning can be observed in another student’s assertion that, “If we stay in our political bubble…we aren’t learning anything. When we engage in dialogue with those we disagree with, it challenges us not only to defend our own opinion but to also consider the other side of the issue.” Students wrote about the dialogue “process,” sharing that they “enjoyed how there was no back and forth arguments,” giving space for reflection. Articulation and listening were also key themes. One student concluded that most participants “could effectively communicate about social issues even when they d isagree, which is truly thrilling.” Another underscored how “just simply listening has a profound effect on the way we hear and understand people.”

The learning benefits of dialogue are significant for institutions of higher education, particularly Jesuit institutions. At the same time, it is not a panacea. For

instance, my colleague Dr. Grettano urges participants to “keep in mind the ‘Ignatian presupposition’ or ‘plus sign’ to the extent possible”; suspending judgment of another can risk downplaying problematic behaviors or prejudices. Further research around dialogue and depolarization is also necessary and ongoing. Some political scientists have pointed out that reducing partisan conflict in the American past “has sometimes come at the expense of the rights of, and justice for, marginalized minority groups.”

While it seems obvious, and necessary, to want to bring down our political temperature, some amount of disruption and confrontation is often essential for societies to reject and overcome oppression. As the University of Pennsylvania’s Diana Mutz has written in Hearing the Other Side , there is an “inherent tension between promoting a society with enthusiastically participative citizens and promoting one imbued with tolerance and respect for differences of opinion.”

Can we dialogue to decrease intolerance and foster better understanding and still take principled stands

against our political opponents through activism and advocacy? If we seek a future with nonviolent approaches that address long-standing injustices, it’s clear t hat the practice of dialogue is one important, though not exclusive, educational component. As Pope Francis wrote in his most recent encyclical, Fratelli Tutti , “Authentic reconciliation does not flee from conflict, but is achieved in conflict, resolving it through dialogue and open, honest and patient negotiation.”

College campuses remain important places for such opportunities. ■

Julie Schumacher Cohen is assistant vice president for community engagement and government affairs and chair of the community-based learning board at the University of Scranton.

This article was originally published online in Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education (August 23, 2022) and is reprinted with permission.

When we engage in dialogue with those we disagree with, it challenges us not only to defend our own opinion but to also consider the other side of the issue.

photo credit : Art by Gary Kelley/© Loyola Press

Overcoming Polarization through Friendship Lessons from a Jesuit Education

Lorenzo F. S. Leo and Dennis J. Wieboldt III

IN THE BEGINNING

DW: My relationship with Lorenzo began during first-year Orientation at Boston College (BC). Shortly before arriving in Chestnut Hill, one of Lorenzo’s high school friends—Michael—had connected with me online. Once I arrived on campus, Michael invited me to meet him and other graduates of Boston College High School. During the course of Orientation, I met many of Michael’s former high school classmates, including Lorenzo, offering me a network of friends before classes even began. Having graduated from a much larger (and public) high school than Michael and Lorenzo, I recall being struck by the closeness of the relationships that they had forged with one another.

LL: I was incredibly excited to start BC. I came to college with many of my friends from BC High and was already familiar with the faith-informed educational atmosphere that Jesuit institutions offer their students. In some of my first conversations with Dennis during Orientation, we began to discuss Jesuit education with regard to the Core Curriculum.

FIRST CLASS, FIRST FRIENDSHIPS

DW: During Orientation, incoming students are required to select fall semester courses. After Lorenzo shared his and his family’s background with Jesuit education, I asked if he could recommend courses that could begin to fulfill BC’s Core requirements. After a conversation with Lorenzo and Michael, we all agreed to enroll in a course called Citizenship, Immigration, and Belonging (CIB) for the upcoming semester. This course, I soon learned,

was part of BC’s Complex Problems and Enduring Questions (CP/EQ) program, through which two faculty members from different academic departments co-teach a course and expose students to different disciplinary perspectives on a common social issue.

others helped me to build strong and lasting friendships with many peers at BC High and BC. During one of the first weeks of school, I invited Dennis and some of my other friends to my family’s home for a meal, so we could all get to know each other more deeply. My family enjoys vigorous debates, and I am sure Dennis was able to discern that. I believe that debate is the fire that forges sharp arguments, and it is rewarding to learn from and be challenged by someone with different perspectives.

Inside and outside of CIB, I recognized that Dennis and I had different opinions on immigration and other social issues; however, I thought that was a good thing. I did not come to college to be in an echo chamber. What fun is it to be with friends who are exactly like you? Dennis and I appreciated one another, respected one another, and wanted to learn from one another.

LORENZO

Age: 22

Within the first few days of CIB, I learned that Lorenzo and I approached the issue of immigration from markedly different perspectives—mine from a more historical perspective, and his from a more philosophical. Wary of the potential that in-class disagreements might have on our then-still-emerging out-of-class relationship, I was initially apprehensive to foreground those differences in our conversations. True to the Jesuit-informed pedagogy of the CP/EQ program, however, this initial apprehension soon subsided. Quite remarkably, in fact, my friendship with Lorenzo continued to grow alongside the extent of our disagreements over the course material. During this process, I began to understand how we were able to maintain our friendship despite (if not because of) these disagreements—our shared recognition that learning is an inherently interpersonal enterprise.

LL: My time at BC High instilled in me the value of letting others know you (ut cognoscant te). That way of living and interacting with

Born: Livingston, NJ

Raised: London, Cairo, Florence, New York, D.C., and Boston

High School: Boston College High School (MA)

Undergraduate Degree: B.A. in Philosophy (BC '23)

Post-Graduation Plans: M.Sc. in Philosophy and Public Policy at the London School of Economics and Political Science

F. S. LEO

TWO PERSPECTIVES UNDER ONE ROOF

DW: After our experience in CIB, Lorenzo became my closest conversation partner at BC, not least because I appreciated his willingness to continually challenge my approach to understanding difficult questions. By circumscribing our disagreements through our friendship and our shared recognition that learning is an inherently corporate enterprise, we were able to leave conversations with a better understanding of one another and our common subject of inquiry.

This became especially clear during our third year at BC, during which we lived in an off-campus apartment together. As I was writing a thesis on the development of the Catholic intellectual tradition, Lorenzo was enrolled in philosophy courses that were exposing him to such different philosophical methods as Sufism. During this time in particular, I realized that our different ways of approaching questions—mine with a greater appreciation for tradition, and Lorenzo’s with a greater interest in pushing tradition beyond its borders—was the foundation of the disagreements we had been having since CIB. By contributing our different methodological perspectives to a conversation about a shared topic, we were contributing something unique to one another. In other words, we were

learning not despite one another, but because of one another.

LL: CIB made me and Dennis better friends. After that class, I knew that we could bounce ideas off of each other freely. So our friendship continued through the years as roommates. I really enjoyed learning something new in class and then being able to discuss it in our apartment. As the years went on and we became more entrenched in our respective coursework, the discussions we had became more intense.

Junior year is a great example of that intensity. As Dennis mentioned, he was working on his thesis and reading many Catholic philosophers and theologians. At the same time, I was taking classes on anti-moralism and existentialism and doing my own reading on 19th-century anarchy. I think it would be fair to say that Dennis was focused on the foundations of Western philosophy and I was focused on its fringes. During that time, we had animated and rewarding discussions that I often think about. I believe that we saw real value in each other's work regardless of our ideological differences.

FRIENDSHIP IN A POLARIZING AGE

DW: When I decided to enroll at BC, I knew very little about Jesuit pedagogy. As I reflect now on my time in college

and the subject of this issue of C21 Resources, it seems as though one of the greatest lessons that BC taught me is also a central feature of the Jesuit pedagogical tradition—the importance of learning in community. In my relationship with Lorenzo, I was consistently challenged (in the positive sense of the term) to remember the personal loyalty that we had to one another and consequently profound sense of investment that we both had in one another’s formation of heart and mind.

By offering a tradition-informed perspective on a question we were both confronting, I hoped that Lorenzo would better appreciate how the learnings of our past could inform our present. This was not only because I hoped he would change his intellectual view on an issue (which I often, of course, did) but also because I thought it would bear personal fruits in ways that in my case, for example, resulted from a deeper understanding of the Catholic intellectual tradition. In short, I think the secret to our friendship in a polarizing age was my interest in contributing to Lorenzo’s formation of heart and mind and my willingness to accept his contribution to my formation in the same way.

Age: 22

Born: Somerset, NJ

Raised: Somerset and Bridgewater, NJ

High School: BridgewaterRaritan Regional High School

Undergraduate Degree: B.A. in History and Theology (BC '22)

Post-Graduation Plans: M.A. in History (BC '23)

J.D./Ph.D. in History at the University of Notre Dame

LL: Dennis will be a lifelong friend of mine. It was very serendipitous that we met during first-year Orientation. I must emphasize that we have very different political views, but I believe that is why our friendship is so strong. We fully acknowledge each other's opinions and actually have constructive and engaging conversations. Occasionally, we were frustrated with one another, but that is to be expected. We are, at the end of the day, still human.

At the foundation of my friendships, I try to practice unconditional love. That is one of the most valuable things I learned in over twelve years of Jesuit education: love your friends. We are all trying to navigate an increasingly complex and turbulent world. Having friends with different perspectives to help us discern along the way is more valuable now than ever. ■

Lorenzo Leo and Dennis Wieboldt photographed for an article published by The Heights, BC's student-run newspaper, during their first year on campus.

photo credit: Courtesy of The Heights

DENNIS J. WIEBOLDT III

Honoring Ideological divides

Lisa A. Kloppenberg, Vincent D. Rougeau, Eduardo M. Peñalver

How can Jesuit institutions effectively respond to the profound ideological division that threatens U.S. society today? What does it mean to embrace a Jesuit, Catholic mission in such a way that it can help our campus communities and our nation to navigate the turbulence through which we are living? In early May 2022, three high-profile legal scholars and leaders in Jesuit higher education sat down together to address these questions.

LISA KLOPPENBERG: Thinking about our students in these contentious times, how can our institutions effectively prepare them to be comfortable with ideological differences and to argue and disagree in a constructive way?

VINCENT ROUGEAU: Well, one of the reasons it’s not easy to do this is that our students are living in a world where they don’t really have many elders who are great role models in public life. Still, we get these young people at formative stages in their lives, where they are more open to learning and engaging, where we can intentionally build community and bring them together to get to know each other in a more intimate way in courses and in residential communities. In these contexts, we can help them build relationships, to feel a little bit more comfort and safety, to get to know people who have different views and see them as human beings. That’s a very important start.

EDUARDO PEÑALVER: I completely agree that the role models are falling short. For the past six or seven years, the state of our public discourse has been disheartening. Another context is the way that people communicate with one another through social media, where they have not built the muscles of productive disagreement. So, especially on the Jesuit campus, the beginning of the solution has to be in building relationships of trust among our students and in using these relationships as a foundation for challenging one another in more productive ways.

LK: In the classroom, you’re always building relationships, particularly in a smaller class. But doing this well demands a lot of intentionality from the faculty and openness from the students, the kind of thing that works in small groups or immersions where people really get to know each other at a deeper level. This is the opposite of social media where we not only self-select into separate groups but where there’s no really deep engagement.

So, how do you see the work of the classroom making a difference in this context? And how should the classroom differ from what’s happening in other parts of students’ lives?

EP: I think when we’re preparing students of all backgrounds, we have to pay attention to the importance of

really charitable listening. Students may resist that, and today it’s just countercultural to train your mind that way.

One of the things I’ve stressed with students is the importance of empathy, of putting yourself in your opponent’s shoes, as an argumentative skill. If you are going to persuade others, that will require putting your mind in places where you would often rather not have it go. Not only do you have to listen, you also have to listen charitably and with empathy to understand the best version of your opponent’s argument—and ultimately your own argument.

There is no interest in that kind of persuasion on Twitter, as far as I can tell. And all sides of the political spectrum are falling short in the effort to persuade others, to figure out the opponents’ concerns and how I can make the position I’m advocating attractive to someone from that perspective or with that set of experiences. Yet if we want to make progress on any number of issues that we care about on campus and as citizens, we have to be able to do that effectively.

LK: That reminds me of Saint Ignatius’s famous “presupposition” in which he says we should be “more ready to put a good interpretation on another’s statement than to condemn it as false.” We listen for that nugget of content that allows us to make the best interpretation, but we also don’t demonize that other person when we disagree.

So, my question is how to make sure that we apply this approach in a way that is fair to everyone and that allows us to support vulnerable and marginalized people on campus who don’t feel like they belong. How do we help these people engage in argumentation without feeling attacked or silenced?

VR: That’s a really important issue for us to think about if we’re going to live together in a democratic society, and particularly if we’re going to live together in this diverse democratic society. The idea that those who are vulnerable or marginalized can come into our institutions and claim a presence and be meaningfully represented in all aspects of our common life—this is critical for building a strong democracy going forward. That we hear the voices of these people in our institutions now when there’s at least a little more willingness for them to be heard by classmates and faculty, this can be transformative.

Of course, it can be difficult to engage in diverse groups, and yet diverse conversations allow people to reckon with their own preconceived notions—their own classism or racism, whatever it is—and when they are in a strong community, they can care for one another in a way that allows for transformational work to take place despite the difficulty.

LK: Let’s go back to the social and cultural context you both brought up at the beginning. The context that our students have been formed in isn’t very conducive to deep personal relationships, to dialogue, to working across differences, to finding common ground. So, as you think about this context, what particular things should our institutions seek to stand for as we think about ideological diversity on campus?

VR: I’m thinking of Saint Ignatius himself here as I think about those spaces of tension, which may be the spaces where we actually find truth and a sense of the whole. In fact, I think tensions underpin that notion of the “cannonball moment,” too. When there’s something truly challenging and mind altering, it can actually allow you to see more clearly. So I think these institutions need to be able to be places where earthquakes, where cannonball moments, where moments of deep discomfort do the work they are designed to do—the work of moving us forward into clarity.

I think at Catholic institutions, though, we have a real opportunity to have these difficult conversations in a certain context where there are other values that define the rules of engagement, where the humanity of the speaker is always assumed, where we can speak plainly on why we believe in that humanity, and make clear that this humanity in itself is a reason why we think that these conversations have to happen. We can proceed from a deep sense of faith and spirituality that is committed to the dignity of the human person. And not only to the dignity of the human person as an individual but to the dignity of the human person in community. That value of interconnectedness is a critical part of how we should talk about disagreement and navigate conflict.

In a culture that is so focused on the individual, so winner-take-all focused, we’re ultimately being countercultural by drawing on our Catholic commitments

to structure these conversations as communal and not merely individual.

LK: I think the value of ongoing reflection, which is emphasized in the Jesuit practice of the Examen, can be mobilized for the sake of more effective disagreement, learning, and intellectual growth. We can reflect persistently on how relationships of trust and how the centering of the human person and how the emphasis on the dignity of the person in community—how these things can both create deep discomfort but also might help us grow closer to the truth.

So, what else might you see as practices or habits that could help us in these ideologically divided times?

EP: Within the Spiritual Exercises, there’s also the use of imagination and the deep consideration of possible alternatives that is involved in the imaginative work of true discernment. There’s the spiritual practice of imagining yourself in those various alternatives, which can be good practice for engaging imaginatively with others’ perspectives.

But the idea that God might be at work among the people we’re disagreeing with, amid the perspectives that we find appalling—the kind of openness behind this idea is challenging in a good way. The notion of finding God in all things is a tool that we can use as leaders of Jesuit institutions as we encourage members of our communities to engage more productively with one another and, really, with people outside of our campus communities in the end. ■

Lisa A. Kloppenberg is a professor of law and special assistant to the vice president for university relations at Santa Clara University, where she previously served as law dean, provost, and interim president.

Vincent D. Rougeau is president of the College of the Holy Cross after having served a decade as dean of Boston College Law School.

Eduardo M. Peñalver is president of Seattle University, a role to which he was appointed after serving as dean of Cornell University Law School.

This article excerpt was originally published in Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education (August 23, 2022) and is reprinted with permission.

To read the full interview, visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Boston College Law School Professor Charlotte Whitmore, second from left, with some of her students.

photo credit: Boston College MTS Photography

student reflections on Polarization

EMILY CAFFREY ’24

Major: Political Science

Minor: Religion & Public Life

Hometown: Dover, MA

Last year, I took a required Core course in what many would presume to be an apolitical discipline. Yet, as my professor began to outline the syllabus, I took out my pink sharpie and started highlighting critical deadlines and underlining course objectives. Most importantly, I made sure to take mental notes on her political leanings. Like many Boston College juniors, after 15 years of schooling, I had become an expert on detecting these beliefs. By this point, I also knew that if I wanted to succeed in the course, my comments, questions, and written responses must align with my professor’s views.

This unspoken yet relatively universal student experience juxtaposes professors’ policies that allow students to freely speak and ask questions. However, as John Stuart Mill warned us, public opinion censors unique ideas even when the law permits their expression. Strains of our national polarization have infiltrated classrooms, and I warily walk on thin ice, hoping I won’t offend my professors or peers.

The vast permeation of polarization forces us to engage in discernment and ask ourselves, What does our Jesuit education and faith ask of us?

I look to the Parable of the Good Samaritan for inspiration. We should listen to the ideas of others—even

when they radically oppose our own views. Discourse on campus frequently discusses increasing diversity at BC, but this line is strictly drawn when it comes to promoting the diversity of ideas. Last semester, I learned that classroom dynamics don’t have to be this way. I took Dr. Brett Ingram’s Ideal of an Open Mind course and learned what an ideologically inclusive education could look like. We were constantly encouraged to ask questions, and Professor Ingram always responded with the opposing argument. He did not show preference toward a singular set of political beliefs. Ergo, it became impossible to tailor my ideas to align with his ideas. I was forced to cultivate my own views. This course gave me a renewed sense of optimism that our classrooms can serve as the laboratories needed to cure the culture war that plagues our society. It is what our nation needs of us, and more importantly, what our Jesuit education asks of us.

JORDAN NAKASH ’24

Majors: Economics & Communication

Hometown: Kingston, Jamaica

I grew up on an island where the motto is “Out of Many, One People,” celebrating the coexistence of numerous cultures on one island. Everyone is aware and prideful of their individuality, but finds unity in the joint pride of our Jamaican culture. Despite this, one’s

heritage is never the defining factor of their person. People are curious and want to learn more about cultures, but solely for their own education. We all know that, as different as we may be, we are connected by the fact that we are Jamaican. At home, it is okay to just be of Middle Eastern descent and not have to dive further, but BC offered me a different perspective.

From the moment I began talking to people on campus, race and ethnicity surfaced as topics of conversation. The questions ranged from "Are you Middle Eastern?" to "How Middle Eastern are you?" and "Where is your family really from?" and "How did they end up in Jamaica?". Most times, they are just harmless questions out of pure curiosity or perhaps attempts to make a connection, but sometimes it feels like I am being labeled and asked these questions to tick a box in someone else’s mind.

Initially, I began to doubt my identity and whether I was truly "looking the part" of one or "acting the part" of the other. I started to feel like I had to be more "Caribbean" around my Caribbean friends and more "Arab" around my Middle Eastern friends. And it wasn’t necessarily specific people making me feel this way. Stigmas existed on campus suggesting that you must "stick to your group." But what was my group when my groups encompassed so many?

My faith is one outlet that always gives me a sense of belonging in

Emily Caffrey, Jordan Nakash, Thomas Pauloz

knowing that we are all made in the image and likeness of God. He loves us all and doesn’t judge us based on the specifics of our race or ethnicity. I believe that the realization of this could aid in overcoming polarization. Who we are is enough to Him, and it should be to everyone else. I am spending my time at BC thus far embracing all the parts of my identity and am discovering communities and friends which provide me with a home-away-from-home to truly embrace my cultures.

THOMAS PAULOZ ’24

Major: Management

Minor: Theology

Hometown: Bristol, CT

Standing at the Pro-Life Club table on BC’s campus was always an insightful experience. So too were our debates in staff meetings of BC’s Catholic newspaper, The Torch, along with listening to and comparing the perspectives of faculty in the Theology Department versus the Sons of St. Patrick, the Catholic men’s group on campus. It was not simply the conversations in these spaces that created the insight; rather, the notion of presence was the element of grounding and intrigue for me. I coexisted with others in spaces of controversy and took in opinions that contrasted with my own and let them shape me, not necessarily by altering my own beliefs but by altering my vision of the world and my fellow human beings.

This is the prerequisite of presence in approaching polarization, and presence not just in the fact of occupying shared space but existing in that space with an attitude of openness to engage it and let it engage you. In the words of Pope Francis, “An encounter with others makes our heart bigger”—in other words, presence builds our capacity to see the image of God in each other.

But what if this space is not maintained, this presence lost? What if people abandon that shared space, unable to stay present and hold a middle ground of the basic plausibility of others’ views when their own perspective conflicts with that espoused by a majority in that space? Speaking from personal experience, I have found myself seeking other spaces away from the controversy, not necessarily spaces that aligned with my own views but spaces that I knew to be neutral. However, that distance has stressed my sense of plausibility of others’ views, and I now stand in dismissal of an opposing perspective rather than taking on the challenge of engaging it.

Thus is the dichotomy of distance and presence. Presence builds trust, lends itself toward hope; distance lets the heart rest but also relaxes the muscle of human empathy. As we stand polarized, we must find ways to be present with the other side, appreciating distance but not letting it hold us back. ■

Wisdom from St. Ignatius

In a letter to Jesuits attending the Council of Trent in 1546, St. Ignatius of Loyola offers the following timeless advice, applicable to any dialogue and encounter with others:

• Learn the surpassing worth of conversation; be slow of speech;

• Be considerate and kind;

• Pay attention to the whole person;

• Understand the meaning, learnings, and wishes of those who speak;

• Be free of prejudice; argue from authority cautiously;

• Quote important persons only if arranged beforehand;

• Consider the reasons on both sides without showing attachment to your own opinion;

• Be modest when you are certain;

• Choose to speak at the other’s convenience even when certain;

• Give conversation the time that it needs.

“Finally, if some point of human or divine science is under discussion and I have something to say, it will be of great help to forget about my own leisure or lack of time; that is, my own convenience. I should rather accommodate myself to the convenience of him with whom I am to deal so that I may influence him to God's greater glory.”

—St. Ignatius of Loyola

To the Fathers Attending Council of Trent, On Dealing with Others Rome 1546

photo credit

: Courtesy of John Walsh, Boston College

'Bad Apples' or Systemic Issues?

David French

on wednesday , the city of Memphis remembered the life of Tyre Nichols, a young man who was beaten by at least five Memphis police officers and died three days later. Stories like this are terrible, they’re relentless, and they renew one of the most contentious debates in the nation: Are there deep and systemic problems with the American police?

How we answer that question isn’t based solely on personal experience or even available data. It often reflects a massive partisan divide, one that reveals how we understand our relationships with the institutions we prize the most—and the least.

Every year Gallup releases a survey that measures public confidence in a variety of American institutions, including the police. In 2022, no institution (aside from the presidency) reflected a greater partisan trust gap than the police. A full 67 percent of Republicans expressed confidence in the police, versus only 28 percent of Democrats.

Why is that gap so large? While I try to avoid simple explanations for complex social phenomena, there is one part of the answer that I believe receives insufficient attention: Our partisanship tends to affect our reasoning, influencing our assessments of institutions regardless of the specifics of any particular case.

Here’s what I mean. The instant that a person or an institution becomes closely identified with one political “tribe,” members of that tribe become reflexively protective and are inclined to write off scandals as “isolated” or the work of “a few bad apples.”

Conversely, the instant an institution is perceived as part of an opposing political tribe, the opposite instinct kicks in: We’re far more likely to see each individual scandal

Oas evidence of systemic malice or corruption, further proof that the other side is just as bad as we already believed.

Before I go further, let me put my own partisan cards on the table. I’m a conservative independent. I left the Republican Party in 2016, not because I abandoned my conservatism but rather because I applied it. A party helmed by Donald Trump no longer reflected either the character or the ideology of the conservatism I believed in, and when push came to shove, I was more conservative than I was Republican.

But my declaration of independence wasn’t just about Trump. In 2007 I deployed, relatively late in life, to Iraq as a U.S. Army judge advocate general, or JAG. Ever since I returned from my deployment, I’ve been gradually shedding my partisanship.

The savagery of the sectarian infighting I saw in Iraq shocked me. I witnessed where mutual hatred leads, and when I came home I saw that the seeds of political violence were being planted here at home— seeds that started to sprout in the riots of summer 2020 and in the Trump insurrection of 2021.

As American polarization deepens, I’ve noticed unmistakable ways in which committed partisans mirror one another, especially at the far edges. There’s even a term for the phenomenon: horseshoe theory, the idea that as left and right grow more extreme they grow more alike. When it comes to the partisan reflex—the defense of “my people” and “my institutions”—extreme partisans behave very much like their polar opposites.

And make no mistake, respect for police officers has long been vital to the very identity of conservative Americans. Men and women in uniform are ours. They’re part of our community, and—as the Blue Lives

GAINING PERSPECTIVE, FINDING TRUTH, SEEKING JUSTICE, CHANGING VIEWS.

Matter flags in my suburban Nashville neighborhood demonstrate—we’ve got their backs. (Mostly, anyway. Lately, the Capitol Police and the F.B.I. do not feel that same support.)

There are good reasons for respecting and admiring police officers. A functioning police force is an indispensable element of civil society. Crime can deprive citizens of property, hope, and even life. It is necessary to protect people from predation, and a lack of policing creates its own forms of injustice.

But our admiration has darker elements. It causes too many of us—again, particularly in my tribe—to reflexively question, for example, the testimony of our Black friends and neighbors who can tell very different stories about their encounters with police officers. Sometimes citizens don’t really care if other communities routinely experience no-knock raids and other manifestations of aggression as long as they consider their own communities to be safe.

At this point you might be asking: When is the left reflexively defensive? What institutions does it guard as jealously as conservatives guard the police?

Consider academia. Just as there is a massive partisan gap in views of the police, there is a similar gap in views of higher education. According to a 2022 New America Survey, 73 percent of Democrats believe universities have a “positive effect” on the country, while only 37 percent of Republicans have the same view.

Yes, this is in part a consequence of anti-intellectual strains on the right and among right-wing media. And this conservative mistrust of higher education (and secondary education) is causing it to turn its back on free speech and instead resort to punitive legislation, such as Florida’s recently passed “Stop Woke Act,” which a federal court called “positively dystopian” and unconstitutionally “bans professors from expressing disfavored viewpoints in university classrooms while permitting unfettered expression of the opposite viewpoints.”

But that’s not the whole story. The nonpartisan Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression—of which, full disclosure, I was once president—has tracked over 900 incidents since 2001 where scholars were targeted for termination or other penalties for speech that was protected by the First Amendment or by conventional principles of academic freedom. In 2021 alone there were 111 attempts to penalize professors for their speech, and almost 70 percent of those attacks came from the left.

I spent years litigating campus free speech in court. It was frustrating to file successful case after successful case—often challenging policies that existed in campuses across the country—only to be told time and again that there was no systemic problem with free expression on campus, that these were merely isolated incidents or a product of youthful overenthusiasm, of kids being kids.

No one should pretend for a moment that there is any kind of moral equivalence between university censorship and fatal police violence. The stakes on the streets are infinitely higher than the stakes in the classroom. But there is still a common problem: Our repeated assumptions that those on our team might

make mistakes or overstep, but those on the other team are deliberately malevolent.

I should know. I used to fit that partisan mold. As a conservative, I could clearly see the problems in American universities. After all, it was my tribe that disproportionately faced penalties and discipline. When it came to the police, however, I was skeptical. I knew there were some bad apples. But was there a systemic problem? I was doubtful.

I have since changed my mind, but it took shedding my partisanship and applying my principles to allow me to see more clearly. Fundamental to my worldview is the belief that human beings possess incalculable worth, but that we are also deeply flawed. No person or institution can be completely trusted.

Thus powerful people and powerful institutions must be held accountable. If you combine authority with impunity, then corruption and injustice will be the inevitable result. If I could see this reality clearly in institutions on the left, why couldn’t I see it on the right?

The police, after all, possess immense power in American streets, often wielded at the point of a gun. Yet the law systematically shields them from accountability. Collective bargaining agreements and state statutes provide police officers with greater protections from discipline than almost any other class of civil servant— despite the fact that the consequences of misconduct can be unimaginably worse. A judge-made doctrine called qualified immunity provides powerful protections against liability, even when officers violate citizens’ civil rights. Systemic police corruption and systemic abuse should not have been a surprise.

How do we fight past our partisanship to become truly curious about the truth? For me, the answer started with the first principle of my conservatism: human beings possess incalculable worth. If that is true, and my neighbors and fellow citizens are crying out about injustice, I should hear their voices and carefully consider their claims.

My initial inability to see the truth is related to the second principle, that human beings are deeply flawed. I had no trouble applying that principle to my opponents. But it also applies to those I generally admire. It applies to police officers. It applies to me.

The lesson I’ve taken has been clear: any time my tribe or my allies are under fire, before I yield to the temptation of a reflexive defense, I should apply my principles and carefully consider the most uncomfortable of thoughts, my opponents might be right, my allies might be wrong, and justice may require that I change my mind. And it may, in all likelihood, require that I do this again and again. ■

David French is a New York Times Opinion columnist, lawyer, former constitutional litigator, veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom, and author of the book Divided We Fall: America’s Secession Threat and How to Restore Our Nation .

From the New York Times . ©2023 The New York Times Company. All rights reserved. Used under license.

ronald reagan and tip o’neill

A Real-life Friendship

Rich Gorecki

They disagreed often but still worked toward the common goal of making our country better.

much has been written about the friendship—both political and personal—between Ronald Reagan and Tip O’Neill during the 1980s. This friendship, between the president and one of his rivals, shows a relationship of deep trust across difference.

Ronald Wilson Reagan, the 40th president of the United States, and Thomas Phillip “Tip” O’Neill, Jr. (Boston College ’36), Speaker of the House of Representatives from 1977 to 1987, were two political opposites. W hile much of their political partnership was based on smart gamesmanship, Reagan, the Republican, and O’Neill, the Democrat, could put aside their party differences to find solutions. They had mutual respect for each other that separated their ideological bent from the need for basic human decency. Reportedly, the two political rivals were good friends who frequently enjoyed a drink together at the end of the day.

A FRIENDSHIP OF MUTUAL RESPECT

In his book Tip and the Gipper: When Politics Worked , MSNBC talk show host and author Chris Matthews describes a scene that exemplifies the close relationship between Reagan and O’Neill.

Following the assassination attempt, former Reagan aide Max Friedersdorf shared that O’Neill was one of the first people the president let visit him at George Washington University Hospital. Friedersdorf observed that when O’Neill entered Reagan’s hospital room, “he nodded my way and walked over to the bed and grasped both the president’s hands, and said, ‘God bless you, Mr. President.’ The president still seemed groggy...with lots of tubes and needles running in and out of his body. But when he saw Tip, he lit up and gave the speaker a big smile, and said, ‘Thanks for coming, Tip.’ Then, still holding one of the president’s hands, the speaker got down on his knees and said he would like to offer a prayer for the president, choosing the 23rd Psalm.” Then O’Neill kissed Reagan on the forehead.

Matthews says this kind of relationship is sorely lacking in today’s Washington. “There were rules in those days,” Matthews writes. “Tip would say, ‘I’ll cut a deal on Social Security if you let me focus on taxing the wealthier people.’ There was always a deal. It’s not that they always found common ground, it’s that they each got something out of every deal. …A lot of times it was just getting something from the other guy.”

Matthews, an aide to O’Neill at the time, said the heavily emphasized social component is overstated. However, a post on the website Respect + Rebellion says Reagan often answered O’Neill’s calls, “Tip, is it after 6 p.m.?” since he and O’Neill often fought during

work hours. But after 6, these two enemies enjoyed each other’s company.

WHAT’S UNIQUE ABOUT THEIR FRIENDSHIP?

Matthews explains that Reagan and O’Neill genuinely liked each other. The two also didn’t suspect the worst of each other. “Reagan was fond of Tip and completely believed that Tip wanted to help the little people. He just disagreed about how to do it.” Matthews continued, “Reagan was his party. Tip was his party. It wasn’t l ike [John] Boehner trying to deal with people who are a little different than him.” It was clear that each man truly represented their party in full.

To further validate their admiration for each other, the speaker’s son, Thomas P. O’Neill III (Boston C ollege ’68), once wrote about the relationship between his father and the president:

“While neither man embraced the other’s worldview, each respected the other’s right to hold it. Each respected the other as a man.”

Thomas P. O’Neill III, “Frenemies: a Story,” The New York Times

At a retirement party for O’Neill in 1986, Reagan said, “Mr. Speaker, I’m grateful you have permitted me in the past, and I hope in the future, that singular honor—the honor of calling you my friend.”

Regardless of their party affiliation, the friendship between Reagan and O’Neill seemed to work well. They disagreed often but still worked toward the common goal of making our country better.

Friendships built in faith can exemplify these qualities, prioritizing mutual respect. It includes prayer and support in tough decisions. It relies on each other’s strengths to fill in gaps and speak the truth whenever there’s a shortcoming. They celebrate a great friendship at the end of the day, and offer a model—especially when you have political or ideological differences. ■

Rich Gorecki is the writer of GodBuddies , a blog about man’s need for deeper, more authentic friendships, and is the author of the book Get Out of Your M an Cave: The Crisis of Male Friendships.

This article excerpt was originally published February 28, 2022, on God-Buddies.com and is printed with permission. For more information, contact the author: Rich@God-Buddy.com.

To read the full article, visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Thomas P. (Tip) O'Neill, Jr., Speaker of the House of Representatives (1977–1987) and proud alumnus of Boston College (1936), enjoying time with President Ronald Reagan.

Living Catholic Social Teaching Dorothy Day

Considered polarizing in her lifetime, Dorothy Day is a remarkable and bold role model for future generations. What can she teach us about being committed to our faith and living it authentically? As this article discusses, she not only embraced all aspects of Catholic Social Teaching, but she also developed a devoted spiritual life.

“

Ddon ’ t call me a saint…,” Dorothy Day once quipped, and some are happy to oblige. They wonder why Dorothy’s cause for canonization is moving forward. After all, how can a spitfire, twentieth-century social activist, who participated in labor strikes, protested war and abortion, went to prison, and complained that the Church wasn’t paying enough attention to its own teachings be listed alongside holy mystics and contemplatives?

Even decades after her death, Dorothy remains an enigma. We can’t easily pigeonhole her, either as an activist, a liberal, a conservative, a Democrat, a Republican, or a libertarian. Those on the political left balk at her condemnation of abortion and contraception, and her unwavering devotion to the Church. T hose on the right chill at her socialist sympathies, her anti-war stance, and her pre-conversion abortion.

Yet as Cardinal Timothy Dolan announced at a gathering of bishops, “I am convinced [Dorothy] is a saint for our time. She exemplifies what’s best in Catholic life, that ability we have to be ‘both-and’ not ‘either-or.’”

In Dorothy’s view, the Church’s social teachings form a complete, indivisible package. We have only two choices: either we accept the whole gift or we reject it all. The only thing we can’t do is fragment it, taking it piecemeal and dismissing those parts that conflict

with our political or social views. To paraphrase St. Augustine, “If you believe what you like in Catholic Social Teaching, and reject what you don’t like, it is not Catholic Social Teaching you believe, but yourself.”

Dorothy’s coherent devotion to Catholic Social Teaching makes her a bridge between different groups in the Church. Crux editor John Allen Jr. observes, “The Church at the grass roots in the United States has been badly splintered into a kind of peace-and-justice crowd on the left and a pro-life crowd on the right. Day is one of those few figures who has traction in both those groups.”

So who was Dorothy Day? Dorothy was born on November 8, 1897. She was raised in a non-religious home and quickly developed a keen sense of poverty and suffering. Her family lost almost everything in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and, after moving to Chicago, she frequented the depressed streets of the West Side. Those experiences crystalized her life’s calling. Walking the streets, and pondering the poor, she sensed a desire to live alongside them: “From that time on my life was to be linked to theirs, their interests would be mine: I had received a call, a vocation, a direction in life.”

After converting to Catholicism in 1926, and participating in many protests, pickets, and activist campaigns, Dorothy co-founded the Catholic Worker newspaper with the itinerant French philosopher Peter

Brandon Vogt

photo credit : The Bob Fitch Photography Archive, Stanford Libraries, stanford.edu

Maurin. The partners intended the paper to explain Catholic Social Teaching in accessible language, using stories, poems, and essays in order to inspire laymen, clergy, and even bishops to cultivate a society where it was “easier to be good.” Day and Maurin marketed the paper to working men and women, selling it near factories and bustling town squares for just one penny, the same price it remains today. Within six months they were printing over 100,000 copies.

What started as the effort of a newly converted laywoman and a French radical soon became a movement. The newspaper blossomed into Catholic Worker communities and houses all over the world, which to this day center themselves on hospitality, non-violence, workers’ rights, and solidarity with the poor.

Alongside her activism in support of the poor, Dorothy also displayed an intense spiritual commitment. Each day she attended Mass, prayed her Rosary, and prayed the divine office. She staunchly opposed contraception and abortion, neither of which were popular p ositions in the mid-twentieth century. She regularly credited the intercession of saints and her reliance on the Mystical Body of Christ for any success she had.

For Dorothy, worshiping God and serving the poor were intertwined. Right worship leads to right service. She was unashamed of seeing the world’s problems through a Catholic lens: “If I have achieved anything in my life,” she once remarked, “it is because I have not been embarrassed to talk about God.”

In our hyper-polarized world, where many of us identify as conservative or liberal, “pro-life” or “peace and justice,” spiritual or active, may we learn from Dorothy Day to embrace Catholic life as a whole, to become both/and Catholics who assimilate all that is good and praiseworthy. ■

Brandon Vogt is the senior publishing director for Bishop Robert Barron’s Word on Fire Catholic Ministries, a bestselling author, and founder of ClaritasU and Chesterton Academy of Orlando.

This article was originally published by WordOnFire. org (November 10, 2014), is adapted from the author’s book, The Saints and Social Justice: A Guide to Changing the World (Our Sunday Visitor, 2014), and is reprinted with permission.

Dorothy Day’s spirituality is marked by these characteristics:

Love of Scripture: Throughout her life, Dorothy received comfort and inspiration from the Bible, especially the Psalms, the Pauline writings, and the Gospels. They were part of her daily meditation, and scripture verses and images spontaneously wove themselves into her writings. The example and teachings of Christ were at the heart of her spirituality.

Solidarity with the Poor: In the Catholic Worker community, Dorothy shared her daily energies with and on behalf of poor people. Her writings, direct practice of the works of mercy, and her own voluntary poverty bound her to poor, homeless, sick, and desperate people.

Personalism: Dorothy loved doing works of mercy because they allowed her to take direct and immediate action for her brothers and sisters in Christ and against the ills of society that robbed them of their life, freedom, and dignity. Her engagement with other people flowed from her wholeness as a person; her heart and mind were cultivated through her reading, reflection, conversations, writing, and worship. She wanted the fullness of life for herself and every person.

Prophetic Witness: By her public words and work, Dorothy sought to imitate Christ’s witness against injustice, even when such witness seemed folly. Like Christ, she was critical of the powers and structures of injustice and endured ridicule and opposition for her witness.

Peacemaking: A steadfast pacifist, Dorothy opposed all wars and the use of force and violence to solve human problems. She practiced and promoted human dignity with the spiritual weapons of prayer, fasting, almsgiving, civil disobedience, and works of amendment. Like Jesus, the woman at the well, and Saint Paul, she took her message to the people in the streets.

A Sacramental Sense: Dorothy looked to sacramental celebrations, especially the Eucharist, for daily spiritual sustenance, and she saw the world, its people, and all of nature to be full of God’s grandeur and love as well.

Gratitude: In good times and in bad, Dorothy had a keen sense of appreciation and learned to trust in the providence of God. Dorothy regularly expressed gratitude not only to God but to those around her and to the Catholic Worker’s readers.

This excerpt was originally published in the introduction to Praying with Dorothy Day (Word Among Us Press, 1995) by James Allaire and Rosemary Broughton and is reprinted with permission.

I am convinced [Dorothy] is a saint for our time. She exemplifies what’s best in Catholic life, that ability we have to be ‘both-and’ not ‘either-or.’

—Cardinal Timothy Dolan, Archbishop of New York

VOICES & VIEWS

JOAN D. CHITTISTER, O.S.B.

As a people, we are at a crossover moment. It is a call to all of us to be our best, our least superficial, our most serious about what it means to be a Christian as well as a citizen…

Where in the midst of such polarization and national disunity is even the hope…of integrating the social with what we say are our spiritual selves?...

Even the ghost of an answer makes serious spiritual demands on us all: To heal such division means that we are obliged to search out and identify our own personal value system. It requires us to admit to ourselves what it is that really drives our individual social decisions, our votes, our political alliances. Is it the need to look powerful? The desire for personal control?...

Do we have the courage to confront the debased with the ideal—even in the face of ridicule and recrimination—or is cowardice our secret spiritual sickness? In that case, our national health can only get worse.

A national cure also surely demands that we begin to see tradition as a call to return to the best of the past, not a burden to be overcome in order to secure the best of the present. It is the sense of a commonly held tradition of the common good—once a strong part of the American past—that we clearly lack in the present…

[We must] make “Love one another as I have loved you” (see John 13:34) the foundation of national respect, the standard of our national discernment, the bedrock of both our personal relationships and a civilized society…

To be one, we don’t need one party, one program, one set of policies. What could be duller, more stagnant,

more destructive of the soulfulness it takes to create and preserve the best of the human enterprise than such a narrow-minded view of planetary life? What we need is one heart for the world at large, a single-minded commitment to this “more perfect union,” and one national soul, large enough to listen to one another for the sake of the planet—for the sake of us all.

This excerpt appears in a daily reflection (November 14, 2020) from the Center for Action and Contemplation, but was published originally by Joan Chittister in Oneing (vol. 5, no. 2) as “A Moment for Something More Soulful Than Politics.”

HOSFFMAN OSPINO

Many of our conversations in the Church today echo those of earlier Christians. The tensions are similar, as are the values at stake. The difference is that we have these conversations in the particularity of our own sociohistorical location. The acknowledgment of this reality should bring peace to our minds, reminding us that this is part of what it means to be human and Christian. We discuss and debate our faith because we care about it. And just as those Catholic sisters and brothers before us chose to work toward forms of communion rooted in the truth and the best of the Gospel, we have a responsibility to do likewise. Among the most painful moments in the history of Christianity have been those that led to the brokenness of ecclesial communion, leaving the entire body of believers

longing for healing and peace among sisters and brothers.

American Catholics, regardless of our race and social location, live, practice, and debate our faith in the particular context of the United States sociocultural matrix. We are both American and Catholic. We must be constantly attentive to how much influence this context has on our own perceptions and how it shapes our language and interactions. Most importantly, we must beware of embracing forms of ideological polarization that are devoid of Christian charity in a deep sense of ecclesial communion.

This excerpt is from a chapter written by Boston College Professor Hosffman Ospino, “The Unheeded Middle: Catholic Conservative-Liberal Polarities in an Increasingly Hispanic Church,” in Polarization in the US Catholic Church: Naming the Wounds, Beginning to Heal (Liturgical Press, 2016).

CHRISTINE EMBA

I still consider myself a comparatively new Catholic. I'm a convert…[and] as I become more familiar with the Church and its teachings, I find that Catholic Social Teaching is one of the great gifts of the Church. It’s instruction for life. It is both moral and instructional, an active way of living.

While it's always been around, it seems to be gaining more attention and consideration in our modern age, especially among younger people. It's clear that we need it more than ever,

JOAN D. CHITTISTER, O.S.B.

HOSFFMAN OSPINO

both because, as someone said, it is Catholic, [and] it is accessible and relatable to almost anyone "of good will."

One thing that I find to be true and delightful about Catholic Social Teaching is how clear and how relevant it is to people who approach the world in extremely different ways…. It has much to say to different groups, whether religious or non-religious, whether Catholic or of a different faith. [All people] can come together and attest to the need for a preferential option for the poor, in finding dignity in work, and a need to respect the individual will.

And I think that we know inherently that all of these principles, confined as they are under the sort of large banner of Catholic Social Teaching, have to fit together, and they have to rely upon each other. They can't be taken apart. You can't have one piece without the rest of them. And if they rely on each other, I think that means that we must do so as well, as Catholics who believe in this faith, who believe in these teachings, who believe that this all fits together and works toward a larger good.

To that end, the idea of coming together, relying on something together, bringing two sides together, ending polarization or partisanship, I think it's our duty as individuals in society to take Catholic Social Teaching into our own hands, to devolve these larger principles into something that we each deal with. And that means that we have to deal with each other as individuals at the lowest possible level. You know we can talk about structural problems, structural issues, political cases. What is immigration? How do we deal with racism?…[But] the structures don't change unless the people, the individuals living under those laws, believe that they should change and are willing individually to stand up for those changes.

…To get other people who may disagree with us on methods, or morals, or teaching to believe that those things should change, believe in the beauty of Catholic Social Teaching, the beauty of the principle of the dignity of every human, for instance, we have to convince them. And you convince people by being face-to-face, by being in the trenches with them, engaging on that lowest, smallest, closest level with each other….I think that is something we want to think about going forward, not just the huge principles, the grand declarations of what we believe, but also how we live those individually with each other in community, in society, under one nation, and hopefully with love for each other.

Christine Emba is a columnist for the Washington Post , and this excerpt is from a panel discussion entitled “How Do Principles of Catholic Social Thought Bring Us Together?” during a 2018 convening organized by Georgetown University’s Initiative on Catholic Social Thought and Public Life on “Though Many, One: Overcoming Polarization Through Catholic Social Thought.”

FR. AARON WESSMAN

How can we avoid falling into an “us vs. them” mentality? I think we need to begin to cross over. For example, if I feel more comfortable in a “progressive” ecclesial environment, I should consider attending the “traditional” parish in my city or town at least once in a while. If I am more comfortable reading right-of-center Christian commentary or news, I should read perspectives from the left-of-center. Or, better yet, I should find podcasts and articles that attempt to bring together different

voices and do so in a way that is charitable, seeking out the truth in each opinion.

Ultimately, for Christians, I think we should return to the saintly figures of our own tradition….I reflect on the lives of people like Thomas Aquinas, Dorothy Day, and Damien of Molokai to show how they can guide us today.

Finally, I think we need to approach the world, and the “other,” in a truly catholic way: cross over to them, engage them through curiosity, ask a lot of questions, listen, and be open to learn. The Spirit can slowly work with each of us, deepening the unity that Jesus has already placed in his Church. …In a practical way, this means identifying those groups or people for whom we know we have negative feelings and thoughts, and choosing to be around them. The effects of crossing over can truly change the polarized climate. ■

This excerpt, by Focolare Media writer Susanne Janssen, is from a Living City interview with Fr. Aaron Wessman, “Crossing Over, As Jesus Did” (April 30, 2023), which discusses his recent book, The Church’s Mission in a Polarized World (New City Press, 2023).

For the full content from each author and more information on the resources described, please visit:

bc.edu/c21polarization

CHRISTINE EMBA

FR. AARON WESSMAN

Arthur C. Brooks

A Love Your Enemies say no to contempt

america is being torn apart, but our problem isn’t that we’re too angry at each other. It’s not that we disagree too much. It’s not even incivility or intolerance. The heart of the problem is contempt—our habit of treating people who disagree with us not just as wrong or misguided in their views, but as worthless. You’ve probably noticed this, because we see contempt everywhere we look in public life. On TV. On social media. From public figures. It’s probably affecting your life, too: one in six Americans has stopped talking to close friends and family over politics. Contempt is making us miserable and keeping us from making progress as a society. How can we fight back?

WHAT IS CONTEMPT?

Think about the last time you were angry at someone— maybe you got in a fight with a friend, or your spouse, or a colleague. Were you hoping to erase that person from your life? Of course not. You wanted that person to right whatever wrong they’d done to you. That’s what anger is supposed to do—help us resolve conflicts. Contempt is different. It involves anger, but it adds another emotional ingredient: disgust. The result of combining these two feelings is akin to what happens when you pour ammonia into bleach: you get a dangerous, toxic compound. Because while anger says “ I care about this and want to fix our relationship,” contempt says, “You are beneath caring about.” It leads to permanent enemies, and it harms our happiness and our health.

A psychologist named John Gottman has spent 40 years studying marital reconciliation and is arguably

the world’s leading expert in what makes relationships work. In fact, he can sit down with a couple for just one hour, and after listening to them talking about their relationship, he can predict with 94 percent accuracy whether they will divorce within three years. What’s the giveaway? Indicators of contempt: sarcasm, sneering, hostile humor, and especially eye-rolling.

So contempt is clearly bad for marriages. But aren’t there some people out there who deserve our contempt?

There are some pretty bad ideas out there, but contempt is always the wrong response for two reasons. The first is that dismissing voices on the fringes leaves those voices unchallenged by people of goodwill and excludes the possibility of getting them to reconsider their views. The second reason to say no to contempt is that it’s terrible for us as individuals. Experiencing contempt increases anxiety, depression, and jealousy. It harms our sleep quality. And it causes a comprehensive degradation of our immune systems. But this isn’t just the case when you are treated with contempt. It’s also the case when you treat others with contempt.

PRACTICE WARMHEARTEDNESS

So if contempt is so bad for us, what can we do to overcome its grip on our culture? To answer this question, I asked the wisest man I know, His Holiness the Dalai Lama. His answer? Practice warm-heartedness. Now, that may sound soft or idealistic to you. But coming from the Dalai Lama, this is actually tough and bracing advice. You see, the Dalai Lama leads the Tibetan Buddhist people, who were driven into exile by the communist Chinese government when he was just a

teenager. Nevertheless, he begins each day by praying that China’s leaders lead a good and happy life. If the Dalai Lama can practice warm-heartedness in the face of persecution and exile, we can practice warm-heartedness toward people we disagree with here at home. To get you started, here are a few practical suggestions that will help us fight contempt with warm-heartedness.

STAND UP FOR OTHERS

Number one: Follow the 5 to 1 rule. Offer five encouraging, positive comments for every one criticism, whether in person or on social media. You might be an outlier on Twitter or in your friend group, but you’ll be a magnetic force for warm-heartedness.

Number two: Stand up for people who aren’t in the room. Most of us don’t have many friends on the “other side” these days, which makes it easier to trash the people who aren’t around. But if you hear your friends who agree with you saying contemptuous things about the people you disagree with, speak up. Don’t be a jerk about it, but gently defend the people who aren’t represented.

Number three: Ask yourself who in your life you’ve treated with contempt—who you’ve mocked or dismissed when you disagreed. Maybe it’s a family member, maybe it’s a colleague. But gather up some courage and apologize. It’ll be scary—but it’s the right thing to do, and I'll tell you what, it'll set your heart on fire.

MOVING FORWARD

If we can say no to contempt, and embrace warm-heartedness, our problems won’t disappear overnight. But if we’re willing to commit to a renewed national culture based in solidarity and love, we’ll be happier people, and can build a movement that will make America the country that we—and the world—need it to be. ■

Arthur C. Brooks is the Parker Gilbert Montgomery Professor of the Practice of Public and Nonprofit Leadership at the Harvard Kennedy School, and Professor of Management Practice at the Harvard Business School. He is also a columnist for The Atlantic , global speaker, and author. His latest book, co-authored with Oprah Winfrey, is entitled Build the Life You Want: The Art and Science of Getting Happier (Portfolio/Penguin, 2023).

This article is an excerpt from an American Enterprise Institute video (March 4, 2019) that discusses his book Love Your Enemies: How Decent People Can Save America from the Culture of Contempt , and is printed with permission.

To view the full video, visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Contempt is different. It involves anger, but it adds another emotional ingredient: disgust.

photo credit : Rawpixel/iStock

Learning to ARGUE WELL

M. Cathleen Kaveny and Julie Hanlon Rubio

Few issues are more polarizing in the United States than abortion. How do we have dialogue about this and other contentious issues? In this article, two theologians offer their individual perspectives on and advice for effective and meaningful conversation.

M. CATHLEEN KAVENY

Abortion debates tend to be dominated by what Aristotle calls “forensic rhetoric,” and in particular by the fiery rhetoric of prophetic indictment that we see in the Bible, particularly in the books of Hosea and Jeremiah. The conversation is set up as if it’s in the courtroom, but those on the offensive make themselves the prosecutor, and you, as the target of their prophetic indictment, the defendant. This presents a problem, because no one wants to be a defendant in a conversation about a hard topic.

When signs and people present their arguments through slogans alone, such as “repent, baby killer,” or “keep your rosaries off my ovaries,” real conversation is preemptively ended before it can even begin. Each side deploys a prophetic indictment, which tends to feel satisfying. Who doesn’t want to be a prophet? But it isn’t usually an effective way to change minds and hearts. It does not allow for nuance on either side, and leaves no room for a middle position.

Moral apologetics are another type of common, unhelpful rhetoric found in abortion debates. This is a mix between Aristotle’s forensic rhetoric and his deliberative rhetoric, which adds an element of practical reasoning. Arguments continue ceaselessly, but there is no room allowed for deliberation, careful listening, or acknowledgment of the other position’s points. Often, those involved in moral apologetics on abortion have a belief that they have adequately defended their position only if the other side is annihilated.

Instead, we can turn to Saint Augustine and his insight that all people act sub specie boni , under the aspect of the good. All people, even people with whom you profoundly disagree, are not themselves evil. Rather, your conversation partners are pursuing the good as they see it, and even if you recognize this pursuit to be flawed, it remains true to their own perspective on what is good.

If you see people in this way, recognizing their goodness as well as their flaws, you can break out of the deeply entrenched culture war mindset and ask two questions of yourself and interlocutors. Positively, what value are you trying to uphold? And negatively, what is it that you fear most if the other side wins?

For myself, I find abortion to be a difficult issue because it does involve two goods: the inherent dignity and value of each human life on the one hand, and the importance of autonomy, particularly bodily autonomy for women. And for me as well, it also involves two big fears. First, what happens to a society that regularly separates one’s status as a human being from the protected status of personhood? I think back to other times society has done this, and I worry about our society. And second, what happens to a society that does not see the burden, in many cases a glorious burden, but in some cases an almost impossible physical and emotional burden, which pregnancy can place on women. I would like a non-prophetic, non-apologetic conversation about abortion that has space for these goods and fears.

Ask two questions of yourself and interlocutors.

Positively, what value are you trying to uphold? And negatively, what is it that you fear most if the other side wins?

Finally, to all students concerned about this issue, I would say relax and do not lose heart. It’s not your job to convince people of your position. In fact, arguments alone rarely convince people. You plant the seeds and you hope that your seeds will integrate with people’s perspectives and experience, and bear fruit down the line. And to people in the “muddled middle,” you can help us resist oversimplification. Your gift is your sense of the complexity of issues and experiences, and you are called to be a faithful witness to the complexity of what you see and know.

JULIE HANLON RUBIO

What if Jesuit universities could be places where the walls of division can come down? Where encounter could happen without fear, with hope that something good could come from trying to understand each other? What if we could model that encounter for others, for a world that seems too broken for conversation?

In my work on common ground, I argue for beginning in the “space between”—between the personal and the political. This is the space that is local or communal. This is not to rule out politics or personal encounter, both are important. It is to offer a different starting point.

We could begin, perhaps, by talking about unintended pregnancy and abortion in our local context. Ordinary people have knowledge and influence where they live; their proximity yields power. Dobbs remains a polarizing decision, but by beginning the conversation with unintended pregnancy and abortion in our communities, common ground may be possible. Most people think of abortion as morally complicated. Women who seek abortions do so for a mix of reasons—economic, social, relational. Knowing this, it seems clear that there is room to consider how to make abortion less necessary, beginning with our own institutions’ structures and policies.

Why would we think this is possible? Beliefs in dignity and solidarity ground commitment to and hope for conversation. Pope Francis tells us that “it becomes possible to build communion amid disagreement, but this can only be achieved by those great persons who are willing to go beyond the surface of the conflict and to see others in their deepest dignity. This requires acknowledging a principle indispensable to the building of friendship in society: namely, that unity is greater than conflict” (Francis, Evangelii Gaudium , 2013).

We have models to demonstrate that this solidarity and communion can work. James Martin’s work on listening to the voices of LGBTQ Catholics has created a whole new culture in which there is greater respect, sensitivity, and compassion. He has not changed the ethical norms of the Catholic Church, but his work invites dialogue where each person’s presence and gifts are acknowledged and they can be called by name. At Corrymeela, Padraig O’Tuama worked to foster conversation among Irish Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland despite their history of violence. In addition to being people who disagree with each other, the community recognizes itself as “people of prayers, conversation, curiosity and questioning,” who are committed to “truth telling and hope.” This affords a possibility of belonging, which, O’Tuama says, “creates and undoes us.”

Seeking common ground in conversation can be unethical and inadequate, specifically if it’s about denial. It cannot be an avoidance of real divisions and anger. It must include a commitment to confronting bias, especially by listening to those on the margins who are most vulnerable. That’s of course particularly difficult on this issue, because both sides speak for the vulnerable.

This conversation cannot be conflict avoidant. Bryan Massingale offers a way forward through “conflictual solidarity.” Massingale is clear that confronting unjust suffering is a core component of Jesuit Higher Education. We are summoned to engage in conflict on behalf of those who suffer in light of a new experience: “the experience of being loved beyond death.” With a commitment to share that love and work through conflict, it is possible to find our way beyond the walls that divide us, even on this most difficult issue. ■

M. Cathleen Kaveny is the Darald and Juliet Libby Professor at Boston College, a position that includes appointments in both the Theology Department and the Law School. She is the first faculty member to hold such a joint appointment.

Julie Hanlon Rubio is the Shea-Heusaman Professor of Christian Social Ethics, interim dean, and associate dean at Jesuit School of Theology of Santa Clara University in Berkeley, California.

On Wednesday, October 26, 2022, Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education , from the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities’ (AJCU) Jesuit Channel, hosted a virtual conversation with faculty from Jesuit institutions on “Reaching Across the Abortion Divide: Resources for Arguing Well on Campus in the Post-Roe Era.” This article contains excerpts from two of the presenters and is published with permission.

To listen to the full webinar, visit: bc.edu/c21polarization

Loving Our Neighbor THROUGH DIALOGUE

polarization abounds — it seems to be everywhere in our world today, and unceasing. We find it in our families, neighborhoods, political systems, on the news. How can we, as Catholics, respond to this division in our world? In his encyclical Fratelli Tutti , Pope Francis urges Catholics and all people of goodwill to seek “a better kind of politics, one truly at the service of the common good” (no. 154). In Pope Francis’s vision, we can see one another as members of one family. We can seek to encounter. We can identify common values. We can listen to understand. We can seek the truth together. In this way, we as the Church can respond to the call “to sustain hope, to be a sign of unity…to build bridges, to break down walls, to sow seeds of reconciliation” (no. 276). Using the tools of dialogue can help us to do exactly this.

DIALOGUE AS AN ACT OF LOVE

Some might say that dialogue is too simple of a tool to create the radical change the Holy Father envisions. Pope Francis calls us to take another look. Engaging in dialogue across the boundaries of experience enriches our life of faith at home and in the wider community. The process of encounter, which invites us to relationship, is one way that we show our love for God, neighbor, and self. We show our love for God when we recognize his presence in each person, created with dignity a nd in his image. We recognize God’s presence even in those with whom we disagree. When we open ourselves to universal love and see all people as our sisters and brothers, we express our love for the Father of our single human family. We show love for God and reverence

for all whom he has created through a disposition of respect and by listening to others in order to truly understand. We show our love of neighbor by choosing to engage in the world around us instead of turning inward. We can cultivate the “tender love for others” that Pope Francis encourages, expressed in “love that draws near and becomes real. A movement that starts from our heart and reaches the eyes, the ears and the hands….Tenderness is the path of choice for the strongest, most courageous men and women” (no. 194). Pope Francis tells us that dialogue is the key to building communities that rise above the damage done by indifference: “Dialogue between generations; dialogue among our people, for we are that people; readiness to give and receive while remaining open to the truth. A country flourishes when constructive dialogue occurs between its many rich components” (no. 199).

We love ourselves when we engage in dialogue. As we prepare for dialogue, we have the opportunity to engage in formation of our consciences through prayerful reflection, study of Scripture and Church teaching, a nd guidance from reputable experts. We also engage in critical examination to ensure that our perspectives are rooted in truth, that our sources of information are unbiased, and that we do not open ourselves to manipulation by those who spread falsehoods for political gain.

I n addition, when we actively engage in true dialogue, we “grow in our ability to grasp the significance of what others say and do, even if we cannot accept it as our own conviction” (no. 203). Dialogue should be an experience of mutual growth rooted in recognition of the d ignity of all people. The process of dialogue may bring

United States Catholic Conference of Bishops (USCCB)

to light hidden realities that require change of perspective on the part of both conversation partners, in service to protecting the inviolable dignity of all.

WHAT DOES POPE FRANCIS MEAN WHEN HE CALLS US TO AUTHENTIC DIALOGUE?

True, honest dialogue commits us to love of God, neighbor, and self, and helps us to deepen the experience of encounter with others. Entering into dialogue with someone with whom we might not agree can be scary or uncomfortable. That is okay. Staying in dialogue can be a way for us to grow together, finding connections and common ground where there seemed to be none (no. 244). However, staying in an uncomfortable moment of tension or growth is different than participating in a conversation with someone who is disrespectful or who degrades others’ dignity. We must point out harmful language, and if necessary, refuse to take part if both parties are not committed to productive conversation.

Dialogue can be productive as long as both parties are committed to shared values, such as the common good, integral human development, or the basic rights that should be available to all people. Both parties must also be committed to seeking the truth: “Truth, in fact, is an inseparable companion to justice and mercy” (no. 227). Truth, justice, and peace hold one another accountable like a system of checks and balances. Without one, human dignity is often disrespected and laid aside. As a precondition for dialogue, Pope Francis writes, “We need to learn how to unmask the various ways that the truth is manipulated, distorted and concealed in public and private discourse. What we call ‘truth’ is not only the reporting of facts and events, such as we find in the daily papers. It is primarily the search for the solid foundations sustaining our decisions and our laws” (no. 208).

Our Catholic commitment to human dignity is a central tenet of our faith and requires us to act in a way that honors our own God-given dignity and the dignity of others, no matter the circumstances of their lives. Seeking these truths through dialogue can be hard work and requires clear thinking, thoughtful description of what we mean, and a sense of generosity in listening to one another.

Pope Francis recognizes and asks us to celebrate the vast gifts and richness of our world. Some fear that tolerating a diversity of perspectives means that we let go of our own convictions. Pope Francis tells us this is not the case. “Authentic social dialogue involves the ability to respect the other’s point of view and to admit that it may include legitimate convictions and concerns” (no. 203). He urges us to welcome many people to the table,

and to create opportunities for encounter. Doing so can help us to overcome old barriers and to look with fresh eyes on issues that have caused us great division. Finally, Pope Francis criticizes “destructive forms of fanaticism” which “are at times found among religious believers, including Christians; they too ‘can be caught up in networks of verbal violence through the internet and the various forums of digital communication…’” (no. 46). We must be especially attentive to our online engagement, always remembering that an actual person, made in God’s image, is on the other side of our comments, and that our engagement should be guided by love.

HOW CAN WE BEGIN?

As with anything new, it is important to prayerfully prepare and take stock of our own posture as we enter into a dialogue, ensuring we are ready and open to learning while growing in relationship.

1. Before any dialogue, it can help to ask the question, What could I love about this person? I must remember that he or she is a child of God, whether I know him or her personally. He or she is my sister or brother—not a challenge to overcome but rather a collaborator in the search for common ground.

2. Then we must ask: What am I hoping for in this dialogue? Am I seeking to truly understand their point of view? Or am I looking to persuade them?

3. If we are seeking to understand, what questions can we ask that will help us understand more? Can we be like a detective searching for clues and finding points of encounter and commonality?

4. What are the values I bring to the table? How can I be open to finding common values with my conversation partner? What might we have in common? To what are we both committed?

Let us be guided by love in finding pathways to dialogue. Though it can be messy, Pope Francis urges us to go beyond “merely parallel monologues” and instead engage in true dialogue (no. 200). Let true dialogue and love for neighbor be our aim. ■

From the United States Catholic Conference of Bishops’ (USCCB) website, Civilize It, which offers resources to address polarization. usccb.org/civilizeit

Dialogue should be an experience of mutual growth rooted in recognition of the dignity of all people.

Authentic Communion and the Way Out of Polarization

Sam Sawyer, S.J.

Iin response to polarization , many have noted the importance of civil discourse. While necessary, however, civility alone is not sufficient. The fuller remedy for polarization is the practice of communion. We need to learn and relearn that we are bound together in the life of the Church at a level deeper than our own agreement. This unity, which arises from our common baptism, makes it possible to sustain the experience of being cross-pressured without succumbing to polarization and making enemies of one another.

Ironically, both the tendency for hypervigilance against heterodoxy and the tendency to treat doctrine as easily revisable suffer from reducing communion to a kind of social contract. For the latter, doctrine has only as much binding force as we are willing to grant it and can be revised again if our willingness to consent to it changes. For the former, any specter of change in teaching is tantamount to a crisis, the social contract demands full and unquestioning assent, and those who do not offer it must be aggressively quarantined lest the contagion spread.

But ecclesial communion is neither malleable according to our opinions nor so fragile as to collapse when the tradition is examined critically and the possibility of doctrinal development is recognized as a part of God’s ongoing preservation and guidance of the Church in history. More importantly, communion is not a product of our consensus, but a cooperation in God’s grace as members of the body of Christ.

The reality of being in communion, in other words, does not cease when Catholics disagree with one another, nor do our obligations to one another as members of that communion. We are still members of the same body of Christ, called to the one table of the Mass—even when, as is often tragically the case, our approaches to the Mass itself are points of division and rancor.

W hen the dynamics of polarization take over, we start to treat other Catholics as enemies or even as traitors who are dangerous to the life of the Church. Disagreement leads to suspicion that our interlocutor does not really believe in the same faith as we do. This is poisonous to charity, and because it destroys trust, it also works against any hope of helping brothers and sisters in Christ to grow in faith. Worse yet, these internal divisions in the Church are ripe for exploitation by other forms of polarization, especially by partisan political divisions.

What is necessary for us to begin to find our way out of polarization is a deliberate practice of cultivating and valuing communion, especially in the midst of disagreement . Rather than demonstrating how another Catholic has betrayed or undermined the faith, we ought first to look for evidence, even in what we disagree with, of the faith we hold in common, and celebrate that evidence when we find it.

This idea is not my invention. It is simply an application of the “Presupposition” from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola to the situation of polarization.

Catholics ought to aspire to show our neighbors who are exhausted by polarization... that there is a way out... it starts by choosing to love those we are tempted to view as enemies.

In order that a retreatant and retreat director may be “of greater help and benefit to each other,” Ignatius counseled:

“It should be presupposed that every good Christian ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbor’s statement than to condemn it. Further, if one cannot interpret it favorably, one should ask how the other means it. If that meaning is wrong, one should correct the person with love; and if this is not enough, one should search out every appropriate means through which, by understanding the statement in a good way, it may be saved.”

It is striking how much effort and desire Ignatius calls for. We are to be “more eager” to find a good interpretation than a bad one and to ask how to interpret what we cannot readily accept. If that does not succeed, we should correct “with love” and “if this is not enough”—having already made the previous three attempts to reach agreement—we are to “search out every appropriate means” to save the statement we are tempted to condemn. Disagreement and condemnation among Christians are envisioned more as a failure of love than as a principled defense of the truth against a subversive enemy.

Ignatius’s advice might be rejected as idealistic, or perhaps criticized for having as much potential to be exhausting as does the very polarization that it might help us avoid. But this is precisely the effort that is necessary to sustain communion in a cross-pressured and polarized world. And it is also the kind of effort necessary for a new evangelization in the context of pluralism and secularity where all claims to ultimate meaning are contestable and even devout believers need help and community to keep opting in to the possibility of faith.

At its best, the way of seeing recommended by the “Presupposition” involves an enlargement of our own

imagination of another’s motives. We are asked to see how they might be trying to say something we can agree with, even when we cannot agree with what they have actually said. To put it somewhat more theologically, we are asked to see—and to want to see —how something we are inclined to reject might proceed from a desire for the good, and a desire for God, in which we already share.

This is a deeply hopeful vision, and it is one all Catholics are called to put into practice.

The gift of communion—of being bound together in a common life by something deeper than our own agreement—is a gift not only for the Church but also for a divided and polarized world. Communion reveals that polarization is not an automatic consequence of difference and exposes it as a lie that deceives us into fearing each other instead of recognizing what we hold in common. Catholics ought to aspire to show our neighbors who are exhausted by polarization and division that there is a way out of this trap, and that it starts by choosing to love those we are tempted to view as enemies. ■

Sam Sawyer, S.J., ’00, M.Div. ’14, is the editor-inchief of America Media.

This article excerpt was originally published online March 16, 2023, became the cover story “The Call to Communion: How the Church Can Combat Polarization” of the April 2023 print issue, and is printed with permission.

To read the full article and discover more resources from America Media, visit: americamagazine.org

photo credit: Communion of Saints Tapestry. Used with Permission. © 2003 John Nava/Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels.

Artist John Nava was commissioned by the Archdiocese of Los Angeles to create a series of 25 frescolike tapestries, The Communion of Saints, depicting 135 saints and blesseds from around the world, for the nave of its Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels. This image portrays three of the panels.

THE CHURCH IN THE 21ST CENTURY CENTER RESOURCES

• DISCOVER faith programs and resources for your home, parish, school, or organization.

• EXPLORE the Catholic Intellectual Tradition with books, videos, newsletters, and C21 Resources magazines.

• JOIN the C21 Center for online and in person events which support personal reflection, prayer, and faith formation.

• ACCESS tools for handing on the faith to children and young adults in your life. resources are complimentary and available online.

• Learn more

• Register to receive news on programs and events

• Subscribe to C21 Resources

photo credit : Andrew Craig/C21 Center