“Why Can’t We Live Together” was the title of a hit song by Timmy Thomas in 1972. The song’s title and lyrics ask a poignant question today for schools, communities, and nations as they struggle with mistrust, resentment, and deep-seated hatred.

So, why can’t we live together? It’s a question I ask myself most nights as I watch turmoil reported on the news. Recently, reports from Jena, Louisiana, on the “Jena 6” caught my attention. In brief, back in 2006 six black high school students were charged with attempted murder (later the charges were reduced) following a schoolyard fight with one white student.

But this was not the beginning of the story. A few months before the fight, a black student sat under a tree in the schoolyard where white students normally congregated. The following day, three nooses hung from the tree. School officials responded with a 3-day suspension for the white students who’d put up the nooses. These incidents only fueled the mounting racial tensions that had long been plaguing the community.

God doesn’t see differences in His children, but instead sees unique qualities.

When I was just 14 years old, I had an opportunity to rise above the hatred and divisiveness that came with the hot-button issue of the time—racial integration in my Texas high school. As a new student of Christian Science, I held onto the idea that God loves each one of us equally. My mother and I often talked about how God doesn’t see differences in His children, but instead sees unique qualities.

I knew that I, too, needed to appreciate the uniqueness of each of God’s children, instead of focusing on differences. After all, we shared a common bond since we had the same divine Parent. These ideas were the basis of my prayers and thoughts. And I had empathy for my new classmates making long bus trips to school each morning.

One day, a small group of white students began loudly sharing their negative opinions about our new classmates. And unfortunately, a few of the voices came from my fellow drill team members. As I entered the gym, I found myself in the middle of an argument between some white drill team members and black female students. Suddenly, a tennis racket was hurled through the air and inadvertently hit me.

I didn’t want to choose sides. I chose to love.

Although I hadn’t done anything to provoke this, I was caught in the middle of a heated division. But I wasn’t about to allow myself to get sucked into anger or hatred. And I didn’t want to choose sides. The choice I had, as I saw it, was to love. I could love my fellow drill team members, the new students in the gym, and even the girl who threw the racquet.

My choice was based on what I had learned from reading stories in the Bible. In its pages, there were many stories that illustrated the futility and dire consequences of hatred. And in the New Testament, Jesus was the ultimate role model for responding to discrimination and injustice—both in his actions and in his teachings.

It was certainly unfair that he was arrested and treated like a criminal. Some could say his disciples were justified in fighting the guards who came to take him away before his crucifixion; some might even praise the disciple who cut off one of the guard’s ears. But not Jesus. He rebuked the violent act and restored the guard’s ear with compassion.

With love at the forefront of how we live, it’s difficult to have enemies.

I was also certain that Mary Baker Eddy, the author of Science and Health, was correct in her conclusion that hatred “is a plague-spot that spreads its virus and kills at last.” And, “If indulged, it masters us” (Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896, p. 12). Hatred was a virus I was certain I could defend myself against! I didn’t want any part of it. Clearly, the remedy was love. If I harbored hate, I’d be duped into seeing my classmates as less than the ideal, beloved children of God. But praying from the basis that there was one divine Love animating and empowering us could bring real change and reform.

I walked away from that incident in that gym with the confidence that love would prevail. And over the next few years, I was able to appreciate the progress that took place at my school. Even though things got worse for a while, by my senior year, there was increased harmony. My drill team had been integrated, as well as the other clubs and sports teams at the school. I could feel intolerance giving way to understanding—and I felt I’d played a small, yet significant part by making the conscious choice to be loving.

The need and desire to actively practice this kind of love on a daily basis can take some work. But we’re more than equipped for the task. Bitterness and hatred aren’t self-sustaining because they lack the support of the only perpetuating force in the universe. With love at the forefront of how we live, it’s difficult to have enemies. Endeavoring to understand one another from the basis of our relationship to God brings healing to the darkest of situations. It dispels fear and sets us on the clearest path to reconciliation and unity.