Monday Morning in North Korea, Sunday Mourning in the U.S.

Yet again, the world changed drastically this weekend for all of us, and for some more than others.

North Koreans were going about their typical Monday morning business while the rest of the world felt itself tilt a little more toward precarious.  

President Obama told citizens of the Czech Republic yesterday that we must "stand shoulder to shoulder" and pressure North Korea with a strong international response to its launching of a rocket that breached the United Nations' current security sanctions.  Japan expressed deep anxiety at the rocket's soaring trajectory overhead, and Russia expressed concern for quick and focused action, but the United Nations Security Council is still trying to reach a "compromise" over whether to warn with a statement or punish North Korea with additional sanctions.  President Obama said his pledged goal of "no loose nukes" may not be reached in his own lifetime, but that the United States has a responsibility to lead the effort primarily because of its status as the only nation to have used a nuclear weapon.  

At a time when the United States is donning that famous sheepish grin while attempting to sweep up a global capitalism spill, the country now faces another awkward opportunity - in this case to remind other nations that they cannot dabble in what we once deemed a brilliant development in our own energy and security efforts: nuclear technology.  With full regard to the security dangers, one still must ask: how effective can we expect the "do what we say, not what we do" tradition to continue to be?  Amidst the rhetoric of the unquestioned purity of American motives (as juxtaposed with the reputation of menacing or at best unknown motives of North Korea and Iran) and the democratic responsibility of the U.S., this latest development establishes the proper irony required to warrant a duplicitous Niebuhrian moment, in which we may consider the theologian's reflection that "Goodness, armed with power, is corrupted; and pure love without power is destroyed."  Are we (repeatedly) facing a moment of truth that we are quite possibly damned whatever stance we take, and at what point will we be forced to acknowledge this?  This question may hinge on a propensity of belief:  is the world the sole and final playing ground, where the last one standing wins?  Or is there a something more at stake which ultimately encourages a turn onto the high road by one or more courageous players?  Either position requires the same intensity of belief.

[Read more about the late Reinhold Niebuhr's effect on the 2008 Presidential election and Barack Obama's campaign here.]

It was simultaneously a Sunday of candle-light vigils in Binghamton, New York, where the murder of 13 people gathered at the American Civic Association preparing to take their citizenship exams changed the lives of countless numbers whose worlds not only tilted on their axes, but lost their centers entirely: a Brazilian mother, a Chinese husband, an Iraqi grandmother, all lost.  A bloody weekend saw death imposed upon innocents over immigrant frustrations, a cheating spouse and a dog who urinated in the house.  This litany of violence comes in the wake of the Christmas massacre of a family by an estranged father and an Alabama killing spree each brought on (reportedly) by financial insecurity, familial rejection and job loss.

There is rightly much discussion about the second amendment and the role of loose handgun laws in these scenarios, but we must look deeper into the circumstances and psyches of the hands holding them if we are to hit upon the heart of the matter.   In his book Hope on a Tightrope, scholar and theologian Cornel West says that "Culture, in part, provides people with the tools and resources to steel themselves against adversity and convinces them not to kill themselves or others."  West convicts the hollowness of American culture in the case of our inability to stabilize such chaos, and examines the lack of nurturing social structures as a culprit of devastating consequences emerging from the human condition, especially in times of great stress.  

In our day of American individualism, have we neglected community support systems integral to our ability to face disappointment, disillusionment and the daily terrors of life's doubts?  Has the never-ending pursuit of the American Dream and rampant consumerism lulled us into believing that buying and having things will satiate our deepest needs, and when we ultimately come up empty-handed we have nowhere else to turn save an angry and possibly deadly outburst of pent-up frustration and mental deterioration?  In considering these questions, West embraces a sense of the tragicomic to keep a sense of possibility and agency alive, drawing on the same pragmatic characteristics found in the creative mix of debilitating sorrow and ever-buoyant hope of blues and jazz music [see Democracy Matters, 2004].  

Maybe art does indeed imitate life, but we have already seen that even Bill Clinton's seductive saxophone couldn't coax a lasting note for reformed healthcare or an economy that doesn't spit out the working class, leaving many feeling worthless, powerless and alone despite the tragicomic performance.  The ongoing violence crisis brings hope only in that it may inspire Americans, within every sphere of influence, to try singing a new tune of care for and genuine interest in their neighbor.  How the world is perceived through just one set of eyes does matter;  it can change the world in a blink for the rest of us.