“Well, is it a republic?” was the question a bystander supposedly asked Benjamin Franklin after the Constitutional Convention in 1787. What form of government had been decided by these meetings, the person wanted to know, now that the colonies had gained independence from Great Britain?

Franklin is reported to have replied, “A republic, if you can keep it.”

It wasn’t a sure thing for those few colonies mostly on the Atlantic seaboard, wilderness throughout much of the interior. After all, only white men who tended to be well-off could even vote. It wasn’t exactly a country with a sterling history, either—much of the land was taken from native Americans. And it would be almost a century, following a bloody civil war, before slaves were emancipated, and a century or so more until real progress was made in giving all Americans, regardless of color, anything approaching equality.

Any group of people will have differences. No one agrees totally with another person. The problem is not so much the differences. It’s that too many of us assume that some of us can actually know what perfect truth is. Yet, as history from early civilization to today’s current events show us: no one of us knows absolute truth.

Many of our current differences are deep—what we should or should not teach in our schools, who can be married, who can terminate a pregnancy. The issues cannot be solved by tossing a coin. We must debate, decide, and accept that we will lose some of the time.

Figuring out reasonable solutions—not “right” solutions—will be a continuing, messy process. Some will lose and believe the loss was incalculable. Some of the time it may be. No person or country will get it right all the time. For the system to work, we have to recognize the impossibility of human perfection.

We have to learn to live peaceably and reasonably in an imperfect society. We should have the freedom to peaceably challenge the current package—indeed, we should have that freedom because it’s always going to need more tinkering. However, we do not have the right to hate or to demean someone because we think they are dead wrong. Sometimes they will be—but sometimes we will be, too.

Humility? A recognition of the imperfection of every one of us? We could start there.