Life hits us with all sorts of contradictions. We want to honor our past, but not get bound by it. We want to move forward and upward, but risk leaving important things behind. Progress and tradition constantly wrestle with each other, with no clear winner.

Such is what August Wilson wanted to tell us in the last of the 10 plays of his monumental 20th Century Cycle, called “Radio Golf”, which runs from now through March 13 at Syracuse Stage.

It is artistic director Timothy Bond’s intent to present all the plays in Wilson’s cycle, and he’s past the halfway point. Five of them have been performed here, including “Fences” twice, which was last year’s sparkling show.

Not until “Radio Golf”, though, did Wilson address the upward economic mobility of African-Americans in the late 20th century, and how that desire to rise in the eyes of a larger society can lead to the trampling of one’s heritage.

As with all of Wilson’s other plays in the cycle, “Radio Golf” is set in The Hill, Pittsburgh’s historic neighborhood where blacks formed their own self-contained community early in the last century, with unique businesses, stores, newspapers and baseball teams.

Only now it is 1997, and after decades of decline and failed attempts at urban renewal, The Hill is set for a rebirth, all imagined by two black businessmen, one of whom, Harmond Wilks, also wants to run for mayor. They have it all planned out – apartments, a supermarket, Starbucks, Barnes & Noble, the whole lot.

Just one problem – that means tearing down a house at 1839 Wylie Avenue belonging to an Elder Joe Barlow. And the house contains collected memories of decades, even centuries, of African-American history, with ties to some of Wilson’s other plays in the cycle.

So the play is spent resolving that conflict over the house – and as it evolves, a rich and wonderful history lesson plays out, thanks to the characters of Elder Joe and Sterling Johnson, two men deeply rooted in the neighborhood who stay true to themselves, whatever the cost.

Meanwhile, Harmond has second thoughts about his big plans, even as his wife, Mame, has big plans of her own and his business partner, Roosevelt Hicks, is all too eager to cash in and live the good life, even if he leaves his integrity and honor behind.

In presenting “Radio Golf”, Bond, also the director, piles on the symbolism. On Harmond’s side of the office is a poster of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., whose stature, honor and place in history did not come attached to a price tag. On the other side Roosevelt puts up a poster of Tiger Woods, who achieved incredible fame and fortune – but lost his honor.

All the actors are first-rate, from “Law and Order” veteran Richard Brooks as Harman to Crystal Fox (Mame), LeLand Gantt (Sterling) and G. Valmont Thomas (Roosevelt). Yet it’s Thomas Jefferson Byrd, portraying Elder Joe, that really stands out through his humor and heart.

At first, when Elder Joe starts reminiscing about people and places he has run across in his travels, both on The Hill and in other locations, it sounds random and rambling. However, it soon dawns on you that he is offering a rich portrayal of history and heritage, something that can’t be erased by tearing a house or neighborhood down. It’s an absorbing, and rewarding, lesson.

Aside from all that, Wilson, who wrote “Radio Golf” just before his death in 2005, sure was prescient. One early scene has Harmond preparing the speech that will kick off his mayoral campaign. Mame is telling him to tone down his tough language on police brutality, lest a white audience get scared away by the “angry black man” possibilities. Funny, a lot of people were telling Barack Obama the same thing in 2008, and that sure wasn’t a play.

Also quite telling is the argument Harmond and his partner, Roosevelt, have near the play’s end. Not to give too much away, but it all centers around Wilson’s idea about the expectations white people have about African-Americans, that they don’t mind black people succeeding – as long as they entertain and amuse, and not make the silly mistake of asserting themselves with pride and dignity.

As G. Valmont Thomas, who plays Roosevelt, said so well in a conversation prior to the play (go to these, if you can, they’re terrific), Wilson, like all great playwrights, doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. He lays out the questions, and then lets the audience try and decide for themselves.

And “Radio Golf” offers plenty of questions to ponder, making it worthwhile for you to venture to Syracuse Stage and check it out, to see how August Wilson so accurately potently the paradoxes inherent in African-American culture, and whether they can be reconciled.