I started getting into tigers a few years ago when I found a Wal-Mart bigger-than-life poster of a tiger's head. That thing has been glaring back at me all these months, to my wife's regular disapproval. I've actually had to hide him in the walk-in closet. He's that intense.

Then came North Korea. Some of you may know that the Siberian tiger is one of that country's national symbols. A fitting one. Fierce. Aloof. Threatening. And beautiful. Like that Wal-Mart poster, North Korea has been staring me down, challenging me to stare back and wonder.

Next there was the Lincoln Park Zoo. Twice in the last few weeks I've made a trek over there just to get away for a day. Both times I was captivated by this very cat from the East. In fact, on one end of his area there is a place where observers can look through a glass barrier . Most don't go there because Kitty is usually prowling around somewhere else, if he's awake.

But occasionally he paces. Every time I saw him this week he was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. And for one magical quarter of an hour, he paced right next to the window. It's hard being my age at these times. Occasionally I actually do get excited about something, but I'm not allowed to show it. As quickly as I decently could I scrambled - no, just walked - over to the window. As people tired and moved on, I moved in, and within a short time I practically had my nose on that glass.

The tiger did better. Every time he came to where I was standing, he actually bumped his head on that window, then moved on in his circuit, 'round and 'round. I was literally one inch from one of the fiercest of all God's creation. And yet I lived to tell of it.

The people crowding in were making growl sounds and pretending their hands were paws, you know the drill. Mothers were teaching their children. Teens were impressing their friends with noises and gestures. Ol' Bob stood there in awe.

If the friendly cat had bumped that glass a little harder, and the smallest crack had formed, we all would have been lunch for pussy-cat. As it was, we were just an audience being entertained.

It hit me days later that many of us are involved in a spectator sport when it comes to North Korea. We read the stories, we visit China and South Korea, we give our money, we even pray, and we might even think we understand the animal on the other side of the glass. But we don't.

There is no way to know what people who live in a "tiger's" world feel, on the other side of a zoo window. "Remember the prisoners as if bound with them" may be one of the toughest commands ever issued. How can I really feel what they feel? Skip a meal? Pray a little more? Wear old clothes? Beat myself? Abandon all media?

Who among us dares to enter other worlds, as did our Lord? Who goes beyond the glass and suffers whatever consequences there might be? Until we do, we may be good story-tellers, good fund-raisers, teary-eyed romantics who feel imaginary pain, but we must not conclude that therefore we have taken up the cross which Jesus has our brothers carrying.