Religious leaders often become giant projections screens for everyone’s anxieties and fantasies. That proved to be true last week when Rowan Williams waded into the multi-faith cauldron that is currently boiling in England.

Some have suggested that merely using the term sharia law created an atmosphere in which nothing he said could then be heard. Apparently so. Anyone really interested in what he said, as opposed to reacting to the media firestorm, should read the actual text.

This remarkable man, the leader of the Church of England and spiritual leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion, thinks in public with subtlety and nuance. That is hard to capture in daily journalism. And even if well reported, the notion of some privilege of religious law would be hard to think about in a nation like his—and perhaps like our own—that is having a national identity crisis fueled in part by prejudice against immigrants.

The headline “sharia law unavoidable,” arose from Williams’ assent to a question asked in the interview after his speech: “the application of sharia in certain circumstances - if we want to achieve this cohesion and take seriously peoples’ religion - seems unavoidable?”

For the record, he said that in certain restricted areas—marriage, divorce, inheritance and custody—voluntary Muslim communal judgments might be recognized within the framework of common law. He added “no ’supplementary’ jurisdiction [should] have the power to deny access to the [universal] rights granted to other citizens or to punish its members for claiming those rights”

Universal rights might be the place we should begin. Somehow the archbishop’s remarks tilted toward recognizing particular religious communities. But my understanding of Christianity is that its contribution has been to go beyond—and in many cases has given up—its own specific privileges in the larger cause of advancing the rights of all.

I don’t want the state propping up my religion’s cherished codes, traditions and practices. Williams suggested that there’s a secular arrogance that disregards the unique and powerful religious contributions to society. I think that’s right. Any of us can be arrogant. (And in any case, as a religious person, secular laws and norms are only one part of my identity.)

But the way to overcome that arrogance is in the push and pull of civil society, all individuals, groups, and faith communities working to mediate a common way of honoring human dignity and protecting human rights.