Several years ago, when I was a communication professor at a conservative evangelical university in the Midwest, a student approached me for an interview. He was writing an article about homosexuality for the campus newspaper, and he knew my perspective would diverge from the administration’s official stance.

Despite the university’s policy prohibiting homosexual behavior on campus, I said, “Anyone is welcome in my classes. I don’t care how they identify or who they love.” I went on, “It’s a shame Christians are known for what they are against instead of what they are for. They should be known for a love that’s so radical it’s scandalous.” 

After he finished the interview and submitted his story, I didn’t think much more about it. A few days later, the provost burst into my office, waving a copy of the paper, and asked, “What do you mean by ‘a love so radical it’s scandalous’?”

I replied, “What do you mean? Are you serious?” I was astonished. He had been a theology professor before moving into administration. 

We ended up having a spirited discussion about the death of Jesus and the ideas of humility and grace and how they might perform as something more vibrant and transformative than tired clichés for perfunctory prayers. He left my office, satisfied I wasn’t mounting a campus rebellion, but nervous about how donors and denominational leaders might take my words. 

 I’ve been thinking about that story lately and trying to live by my own ethic.

I am angry these days. When I watch an administration callously cut off aid to “the least of these,” dehumanize immigrants, codify racism, rig the system to favor the powerful, align itself with dictators, threaten the rights of protesters, and disgrace our country with displays of toxic masculinity, it is very easy to identify who and what I am against.

I want to go on the attack, swinging wildly into the darkness. There’s nothing wrong with that kind of passion. Sometimes, the desire for justice must move us to action in order to secure authentic peace.

I teach an approach to communication known as dialogic ethics. This framework teaches that we become the best versions of ourselves and achieve the best outcomes when we humanize each other, actively listen and engage in mutually beneficial dialogue and conversation. However, if voices are being denied entrance into the conversation because of power differentials, unequal identities, or rhetorical violence, then real dialogue isn’t possible. In this case, we must first address the inequities.

The philosopher Paulo Freire said, “Those who have been denied their primordial right to speak their word must first reclaim this right and prevent the continuation of the dehumanizing aggression.” In other words, monologue might have to precede dialogue. Meaningful conversation sometimes begins with critique, empowerment or liberation.

Dialogue and conversation are often appropriate responses to conflict, but this is a time for monologue.

Righteous anger, resistance, and civil disobedience are called for. However, when the fight becomes all about us, or who and what we are attacking instead of who and what we are defending, we undercut our moral authority and lose something of ourselves along the way.

 When I’m tempted to react impulsively to circumstances, I’m reminded of a lyric from “The Weight of Lies” by The Avett Brothers: “So when you run, make sure you run/To something and not away from.” We don’t accomplish much if we’re always escaping and never arriving. Sure, running might be a given, but the goal is important.

If we are driven by the desire to harm and reduce ourselves to name-calling and the dehumanization of others, no matter how deplorable they may be, we sabotage our efforts and our credibility. Even if we are on the side of the good, we risk being distorted by our hate and gollumed by our fear instead of buoyed by our hope. Motives matter.

 These times are trying our souls. You and I will be called upon in the coming days to be strong, to speak truth to power, and to act on behalf of the defenseless. As we “gird our loins” for whatever battles come our way, it’s important to remain mindful of who and what we are fighting for and how we are doing it.