The violence every day on television is the real thing, not imaginary at all. And so it may seem strange to connect this war, or any war, with The Sopranos. But there is a connection, and we might do well to meditate on it.

Strangely enough, as the latest season of The Sopranos progressed, initial reaction had to do with how little violence occurred. The Sopranos, said reviewers, was in danger of becoming The Soaps. Too domestic, too much family whining.

Then came the climactic episode in which Ralphie Cifaretto was sliced up like a side of beef. Reaction did a 180: Ralph was the devil incarnate, but was his graphic bloodbath necessary? The season finale then focused on the breakdown of Tony and Carmela's marriage. Viewers complained of a letdown: "All that buildup. Why no violence?"

I think I know why. The main theme of The Sopranos isn't really the Mafia. Its creator, David Chase, uses the Mafia only as a metaphor. The main focus of the show falls on us, on the haunting place of loss, pain and longing in human life, the human capacity to deceive, brutalize and walk away. True, the explosion between Tony and Carmela in the season's final episode was not a physical massacre, but the viewer entered a bedroom awash in a bloodbath of previously denied truths - the kind of truths (and the kind of denial) that are universal.

Next season promises more complications and disasters. But the real question isn't the fate of Tony and Carmela. It is about our own. The question is the high cost of denial, the courage to face our own truths, however brutal, and take responsibility for our futures.

That last Sopranos episode concerned the screams in the bedroom, where all truths (and lies and deceits) of a marriage lie. Mature love - sharing intimate contact with a trusted partner and beloved - can make a cruel and unjust world feel tolerable, even promising. But such connection and release elude many of us. In the traumatic finale, Tony and Carmela finally were honest with each other. Theirs were the brutal, painful truths of a marriage built on quicksand.

From the screams of the bedroom to the screams of the battlefield.

The personality of a world leader may overlie conflicts and limitations that make mature, knowledgeable and thoughtful leadership an impossibility. Yes, sometimes war may be necessary. If so, it must be a thoughtful alternative, turned to when we are sure that all reasonable means have failed, when we see ourselves as a member of a world community with a plan for a sane and responsible follow-up to profound, inconceivable devastation. It can't be an attempt to deny history, to make up for perceived failures, or to substitute for good-faith attempts to negotiate. It must never be the impulsive, knee-jerk reaction à la Tony Soprano, who requires violence as an outlet for the violence within that he is too afraid to acknowledge.

The uneasiness permeating American culture today cannot be attributed only to social controversy over the war. Since Sept. 11, something has been very wrong. If not, we would not be in our present isolated state in the world. A true leader of a family, work setting, community or society leads through calm explanation and an awareness of the pain and loss involved in some necessary decisions. Such sincere, articulated leadership is an expression of true compassion.

But only intermittently have we seen such leadership - instead, we have gotten tough-guy talk, a rhetoric of inflexibility and anger. True diplomacy means consultation and communication. Instead, we have seen dictatorial condescension. Such methods inevitably create resistance and play into the hands of our enemies. That's because hope is a casualty when fear triumphs.

In the words of a client, a fiscal conservative who voted for our President, "I am nervous, sickened, and it isn't just because of the obvious reasons of fear or a lack of knowledge. All I value seems to be crumbling. Something in the leadership department just feels wrong, very wrong."

In the words of a friend: "I don't want to seem to be a bad Christian or anti-American, so I just keep quiet."