We are familiar with the concept of dialogue. We think of it as meaningful communication between two persons. Indeed, the comparison of dialogue with monologue — and the joke of the comic strip — implies that dialogue means two people speaking, as opposed to a monologue with one person speaking.
In fact, the Greek-derived word dialogue, referring to logos (word, meaning), does not refer to the number two, but incorporates the preposition dia, which means "through." So dialogue refers to a definite quality to be achieved in conversation. There must be a sense of "getting through" to the person with whom one is conversing.
We in the Catholic Church understand that the fostering of unity among Christians — as well as the growth of harmony among people of various religions and of no religion — requires dialogue. If we stay with the idea that dialogue is more than just people imparting information to one another, we begin to realize what a fine and difficult art dialogue is.
How does a person "get through" to someone else? Obviously, dialogue partners must be open to the acknowledgment of verifiable facts. All of us have been in situations in which heated arguments erupt over a dispute about matters which could be verified through a reference book or some online source. It is said that one of my favorite books in childhood, the work now known as Guinness World Records, originated as the famed Irish brewer provided an authoritative reference to lessen pub brawls breaking out over sports records and the like. Dialogue is at a deeper level than mere announcement of facts; but it presupposes that those conversing will not get stuck at the level of disputes about facts.
Dialogue is not about "winning" and "losing." If conversation is to be a competitive sport, such conversation is better described as "debate." In 1858, our state witnessed a series of seven debates between two candidates for the U.S. Senate: Stephen Douglas and Abraham Lincoln. These men indeed sought to win support for their opposing views about the regulation of slavery in the United States, to win the Senate seat, and to influence public policy. Each therefore sought to prove that his ideas were sounder than the other's, according to the tests of logic, justice, and public sentiment. Douglas won the Senate seat; Lincoln held to his convictions and ultimately led our nation to a painful rendezvous with our collective conscience.
Dialogue requires willingness to know the other; dialogue partners obviously need to care about one another and to be willing to explore personal histories. When people of different religious backgrounds attempt dialogue, personal history is joined with the history of the respective religious traditions.
Dialogue therefore requires at least as much listening as talking. We try to "get through" to people regarding our convictions; but this achievement does not come about without the work of the partners toward becoming in some way "transparent" to each other. We allow for a vulnerability which leaves us open to criticism. We can expect a combination of criticism and affirmation. Ultimately we reach a state of human encounter whose quality sets it apart completely from the drone of monologue.