An Open Wound and Hopeful Sowers (More Korea Reflections)

School life has settled back into the daily grind for me.  It seems like it would be easy to forget all that happened in Korea; mentally the memories are seeming further and further away in the distance.  There isn't as much freshness or excitement in the recollection of it as there was some days ago.  Yet there is more upon which to reflect, more things to share, and there hasn't been a lot of time to process.  What follows is a condensed adaptation from my journal.

On Thursday, April 11th, we woke to a breakfast at Kwanglim's Seminar House of toast, cereal, salad, fruit, and eggs.  After a meeting with Dr. West, we left to go visit Ilsan Kwanglim Church, which used to be a branch of Kwanglim Methodist Church, but now is independent.  The city of Ilsan was built as a first line of defense in the case of an invasion from North Korea.  When we arrived at Ilsan Kwanglim, we received a tour of the church and eventually got to meet their pastor, Dr. Park.  He was very hospitable, and some of his staff treated us to a very fancy meal.  You know that it's ritzy whenever the napkins are folded to look like a suit coat!

We ate our fill of great food and, of course, received gifts from the church (every church and family we visited gave us a gift.  It was great!).  We left hurriedly and loaded the bus to start our journey to the DMZ.

A tension seemed to settle over the group, especially in light of all the threats and posturing that Kim Jong Un had been making over the past few days.  We drove along the Han river and noticed that a barbed wire fence started lining the bank, with outposts every 1/4 mile or so. You could see North Korea across the river at some points, and some small cadres of South Korean soldiers could be spotted walking along the fence and looking into binoculars. We were stopped when we were a few kilometers out from the DMZ; we had to report our intentions to some South Korean soldiers. After waiting a few minutes, they cleared us to go forward and we were led by an army jeep to a base where we had to park the bus and unload.

We entered in; the atmosphere was filled with discipline and seriousness.  We were given United Nations badges and sat through a presentation by Private First Class Park, who spoke very good English and had lived in Los Angeles for a few years. We could only take pictures when given permission; taking pictures inside the base and of any of the South Korean military’s positions was strictly off limits. Such valuable information could be leaked or intercepted by the North Koreans. After learning about the history of the DMZ, we boarded a military bus and went further into the region. PFC Park told us that there were landmines in the surrounding countryside; there were also several checkpoints and watchtowers in the region.

We unloaded the bus and were put into two single-file lines. We were instructed not to make any sudden gestures or hand motions toward North Korea once we were out in the open - - it could get us shot and might start an altercation. We stepped out of the building that overlooks the boundary marker, still in our two single file lines. We stood there, facing North Korea for about a minute, making no motions. We did this so that the North Korean soldiers could see that we were unarmed and were visitors. This was probably the tensest moment of the trip for me – it was like all the rhetoric about nuclear strikes and war came into clear focus. The two histories, two governments, two nations were facing each other. I felt like I walked into something much bigger and older than myself, like I had entered into a story of hurt and death and sadness. The DMZ seemed to be the very public symbol of the scarred relationship between the two nations; it was an unhealed wound that had recently been agitated.

The only visible North Korean soldier put something to his eyes and looked at us while we were lined up and still; at first I thought he had a gun and was scoping us out. It turns out that he was only looking at us through binoculars, which PFC Park said is symbolic of North Korea always watching what’s going on in the South. We took some pictures as a group at the border, then went inside the United Nations conference room. Half of the building is in North Korea, half is in South Korea. Sensitive microphones line the middle of the table. The room has been used to hold talks between the North and the South. PFC Park and two other ROK (Republic of Korea) soldiers were in the room to ensure our safety. We all took a few steps into North Korea and took photos with the South Korean soldiers, who looked quite intimidating. They all have sunglasses on so that you can’t see their eyes. This is to keep the North Korean soldiers guessing, but also is designed to prevent any emotional struggles that may erupt into conflict when eyes are locked between South and North Korean soldiers. There are always some ROK soldiers facing boldly into North Korea, sending the message that they are not afraid of them.

Me standing on the North Korean side of the United Nations Conference House with a  South Korean soldier.

Afterward, we left the demarcation line and got back on the military bus. PFC Park showed us some more important sites related to the DMZ, like the Bridge of No Return and the site of a tree whose removal led to a brief conflict between the North and South. We were taken back to the initial base where the presentation was given; they had a gift shop that several of our members used. Before we left, we got a photo with PFC Park. Dr. Rynkiewich asked God to bless him, which was poignant to me.  He was living in a dangerous place.

We loaded up and got out of the region controlled by the military. To kill some time, we went to a public observation tower that overlooks North Korea; it is dedicated to the reunification of the two Koreas. If the DMZ is a depressing reminder of the hurt present between the two nations, things like the reunification tower and listening to the stories of South Koreans longing for the two nations to become one again sowed the seeds of hope in me. I think most of the South Korean Church is praying for national reconciliation to become a reality.

We learned of how North Korea destroyed a South Korean submarine a few years ago, which caused dozens of South Korean soldiers to lose their lives. There was a memorial inside of the reunification tower to that incident. We later went up to the observation deck and took pictures. Afterward, we went to their coffee shop. Soo got us all drinks; I had honey tea, which was probably one of the best teas I’ve ever had. Think of Southern sweet tea, but served hot and even sweeter.

I sat and talked with Beeson Pastor Cheol Ho Yoon, who is a native South Korean. He told me about some of South Korea’s history, about his dreams to write commentaries on all of the books of the New Testament like Ben Witherington III has, but for the Korean Church. He said that many of their commentaries are very conservative, and the Korean Church could benefit from having something like socio-rhetorical commentaries. He also told me of the concept of Han, which he said is something that every Korean goes through. If my understanding is correct, Han is a Chinese character, and it tells the story of a threefold movement: 1) You are depressed because of a painful history and difficult circumstances, 2) You overcome this inward depression and triumph, 3) You unite with others and form a harmonious collective or society. He said that many Korean theologians have contextualized the concept of Han and used it as a lens through which to look at the Christian faith.

After our conversation, we all loaded up and went to grab some dinner. I think we stopped at a Pizza Hut this time around. When we got back to the Seminar House, we went to a meeting with pastors of new church plants (it was called a SALT meeting; I forget what the acronym means). Their stories were inspiring. Some of them sacrificed money, living spaces, and one endured worship services with only his two other immediate family members for three months. They started growing through their outreach – children seemed to be a particular focus for them (youth groups are important!). Prayer was a big focus as well, especially during the discouraging times.

Kwanglim’s SALT program helped support them until they could become more self-sustaining, giving $1,000 a month. Kwanglim also provided ideas and training teams to the people of these smaller churches. One team taught the congregation how to do street evangelism, which led to them evangelizing and growing. It was a neat example of how a mega-church could partner with smaller churches and the two could learn from each other and support each other's ministries. These pastors had good personalities, and they all had a good sense of humor. It was a blessing to see their commitment and willingness to sacrifice for the Kingdom of God.

As I've thought some more about the DMZ and recall the stories of Koreans longing for reunification, I must admit that my heart started to break a bit.  How painful it must be, especially for those who remember a united peninsula...  I've been praying for the reunification of the two countries.  I've been praying for the Gospel to spread throughout North Korea, as well as justice, good governance, and peace.  Many in North Korea have died of starvation due to them having mineral resources but very few agricultural capabilities, not to mention that they have closed themselves off to trade.    I hope you will pray for them, too.  Also pray for leaders on both sides to guide the people to reconciliation and reunification.

Pray for the pastors who are living sacrificially so that people can meet and grow in Jesus.

That's all for now.

The Changing Shape of Faithfulness (Some Reflections on Korea)

I wanted to share some reflections with you about a day from my trip to South Korea.

On Wednesday, April 10th, the Asbury Seminary team of which I was a part went to visit Yeo Sang, which is South Korea's best vocational school for girls.  It is Christian school with a pastor and a chapel on the top floor of the facility.  We were immediately welcomed upon arrival and sat through a presentation that gave us Yeo Sang's history, reputation, and programming.  We then proceeded to visit several different departments in the building: the counselor, nurse, career center, teachers' lounge, and the computer lab.  We then observed a demonstration of traditional Korean etiquette, with several girls decked out in full Korean garb.  They had us wear some of the men's traditional clothing and taught us how to properly bow to honor our elders.  Apparently Korean children do this in their families at a certain time each year, with the elders rewarding the children by giving them a treat.  We then kowtowed before the principal of the school and our team leader, Dr. Tumblin.  Good bows were met with oohs and aahs of appreciation; mistakes brought out some stifled giggles that sometimes erupted into full-on laughter.

Soo, one of our hosts, managed to tell the girls that my friends Chris, Phil, and myself were all "opa"s.  If my understanding is correct, this word technically means older brother, but colloquially it means single and available. The atmosphere of the room changed as the awkwardness of teenage crushing began. I don't know if it was because the school is made up of only girls, or we had some sort of American cool factor, or we were simply attractive, but we suddenly became a lot more interesting after that. It made me feel a bit nostalgic - - it wasn't too long ago that I was a love-struck teenager who goggled over whichever girl had my attention at the time. Actually, not much has changed in that respect :).

We moved on to practice calligraphy and later went to chapel, which is on the top floor of the school, symbolizing its importance. Some of the girls sang and danced for us, showcasing the opportunities the chapel team provided them and the talents they had developed. We heard the administrator's testimony, which was very powerful. He came to Christianity through the influence of his wife, which eventually led to one of his parents, his children, and his grandchildren all becoming Christians. He has encountered and firmly believes in God's ability to raise up and use women in a powerful way, which led him to start working with young women at Yeo Sang. His own life is a testimony to how God used his wife to reach four generations within his family.

They served us the traditional American lunch of the McDonald's Big Mac. Once we finished our lunch, we left to the trumpets and percussion of a royal processional that was historically played for the Korean king. All of the school was part of the crowd that sent us off; you would have thought we were the Queen of England or the President of the U. S. - - it was over the top in an awesome and humbling way. The girls there were extremely nice to us, and it seems like they are getting a good foundation in Christ and a great education there. The experience was wonderful.

After our trip to Yeo Sang, we were driven to Kwanglim Methodist Church's Charity House, which functions as a nursing home for the elderly and has a special unit for people suffering from Alzheimer's Disease. They have some awesome art in the place they conduct funerals, an example of which you can see here:

Jesus silhouette with the cross tearing the veil of the Temple in the immediate foreground.  Biblical scenes are depicted on the sides.

We went inside Charity House where we were introduced to their history and work, and afterward we got to pray with several residents. It was a powerful experience. Some of them used to be elders and deacons in Kwanglim Methodist Church; now they can't talk at all. Some were simply existing, holding on by a thin thread, kept alive by the caretakers. We managed to utter out a few phrases from our limited Korean vocabulary as we passed by residents - - "anyeunghaseyo" for "hello", "chook bok hamnida" for "God bless you", and "kamsahamnida" for "thank you." All of these are very simple phrases, yet many of the residents received them as a precious gift, their faces all smiles and grace.

One of the residents in particular made a strong impression on me. She could not talk, or at least did not respond to my greeting; she simply stared at me sadly. My friend Zach prayed for her while I held her arm. After the prayer was over, I lingered for a brief moment. We were strangers who were praying for her in a foreign tongue and had no regular contact with her. She probably had no idea what we were requesting, and we'll probably never see her again this side of existence. I decided to follow a rising sensation and I gently stroked her head, looking at her in love for just a few more seconds. She looked back at me; it seemed that the faint mist of tears were shining in her eyes. I got the sense that something beautiful had just happened.  I knew that we had communicated in a language deeper than words. I didn't even know her name.

Of all the people and residents we prayed for, it was her that I can't get out of my mind.  I am reminded that Jesus was there, loving through each of us.  He was giving through physical touch, and he was guiding through the look in the woman's eyes, a look that was somewhere between the fear of leaving everything behind and the joyful hope of our bodies being made new in Christ.

On reflection, the whole day seemed to highlight the disparity of the experiences of the two groups.  Earlier we had spent time with girls who had their whole lives ahead of them.  They were in a great school, had a solid Christian foundation, and had all their dreams and hopes for the years just beyond them.  Later we were with those who had nearly all of their present form of life behind them; some of them did not even have control over their minds or the ability to speak.

I am somewhere in-between these two poles, though I am admittedly closer to one side than the other.  The contrast got me thinking about the changes of life and how the call to be faithful to God is often shaped around those changes and life stages.  When we are young students, the call to be faithful means growing in Christ, giving your best to school and work, and learning.  As young adults, the call to be faithful means growing in responsibility, finding intimacy with God and others, and learning to love.  Adulthood carries the responsibility of investing in your church, family, friends, and the next generation.  The latter days of life hold the challenge of reflecting on and owning the life you have lived, righting wrongs, and preparing for death (check Erikson's Theory of Psychosocial Development for examples of the major developmental stages and dilemmas).  Being faithful to God is shaped around the contours of our development, context, health, and calling.

Thinking on this churns up the desire in me to be faithful to God in every situation and circumstance that comes in life.  I want to be faithful in the vibrancy of youth and in the painful surrender of old age.  I want to be faithful on the good days and the hard days, in awkwardness and in confidence, in strength and in weakness, in life and in death.  Yes, in all of my life, I want to be faithful and point to Jesus; I want to share his love.  He is everything that is good, everything that is life and joy and peace and truth. Holy Spirit, help me, a sinner.

I think this is what God was bringing to my heart so strongly when I was looking at that woman at Charity House.  Through our gazes, I think we both were being faithful.  We were sharing a gift with each other, a gift that originated from the infinite reservoir of God's abundant grace.  From one life stage and circumstance to another, through different means, we were sharing the gift that transcends everything: the love of God.

What is Love? (Augustine Don't Hurt Me)

I read through Augustine's De Doctrina Christiana (On Christian Teaching) recently, and it was quite a good work.  It's divided into four major chapters that he calls books.  He sparked a lot of thought for me on the use of symbolism in Christianity and effective rhetoric in preaching and teaching the faith.  But there was one thing about Augustine that nagged me as I read his work.  

The biggest difficulty that I had with him is that I find his definition of love to be insufficient.  He begins by talking about the differences between “using” and “enjoying” things (1.7-10), and he implicitly ties the notion of enjoyment into his idea of love many times throughout book I.  He finally gives his explicit definition of love in 3.37 – “By love I mean the impulse of one’s mind to enjoy God on his own account and to enjoy oneself and one’s neighbour [sic] on account of God…” (Green, 1997, p. 24).  Augustine also notes that God does not love humans, but uses us to enjoy the goodness of himself that he has placed in us (1.73-75).  While I think that love and joy are definitely related, I think there is something lacking theologically in this definition of love. 

Don't get me wrong, I think enjoying God is a good thing that we all should do.  But is joy all there is to love?  My main critique is that Augustine does not seem to have a Christ-shaped definition of love (Phil 2:1-11; 1 John 3:16).  If we exist primarily as a means for God to enjoy himself, why would he suffer and die on our behalf?  He does not need us; most of the Church has believed that he is completely self-sustaining and that we cannot add to God one thing that he does not already have – Augustine himself affirms this in 1.74-75.  It seems to me that if love is purely about enjoyment, God would have cut ties with humanity at the Fall and would have enjoyed himself not one bit less as a result, perfectly content in his self-love. 

           

But in the patient God of Israel and in the suffering Jesus Christ, I think we see that there is something more to love: an undeserved sharing of goodness with the other, even at great cost and anguish to self.  Understanding God’s love in this way makes more sense to me biblically and helps me better comprehend God’s motives in creation, redemption, and glorification. I also think that the kind of sacrificial love found in Jesus spurts forth joy and happiness like a surging sea, because evil cannot overcome it.  Though we are undeserving, God really does love us.  I even think God enjoys us and delights in us (Deut. 30:9; Psalm 149:4) when we reflect back to him his goodness and love (in agreement with Augustine), though our disobedience does not mean that God does not love us in the sense of wanting to share his goodness with us.

How do you think about God's love?  Are you for it or against it?  ;)

I'm pretty sure it's different from the guys on Night at the Roxbury :).