I am a Christian. At least this is the first answer that comes to my mind to the question of ‘what is your religion’ in the demographic section of the several forms my family and I had to fill in since we moved from the Korean peninsula to the island of Ireland. But, sometimes, these questions would not allow me to simply answer ‘Christianity’, and come with multiple choices of different Christian traditions for me to specify. Fortunately, there always is an answer for me to choose among those multiple choices, and I do not need to choose ‘Other’ and specify what ‘Other’ means. However, this question always makes me think about Christianity back home.
Christianity was brought to Korea mainly by Western missionaries in the 19thcentury, although there were already some Korean scholars who had studied Christian texts and chose to follow the new, egalitarian way of life of Christian teaching since the 18th Century. Christianity enchanted many Koreans with its egalitarian ideas. It was particularly attractive for Korean nationalists who fought for independence from Japanese colonial rule. Most missionaries opposed Korean Christians being part of the independent movement, in the name of separation of Church and state. However, in the Korean context, Church and state were never separate, even after the colonial period. Following liberation from Japanese rule,and the immediate division of the Korean peninsula in 1945, Christians were being favoured by the US rule and the subsequent South Korean government, while losing their standing in North Korea under the Soviet rule and the subsequent North Korean government. Many Christians fled from North Korea to South Korea. The anti-communist character of the Christians in South Korea had been strengthened going through the Korean War (1950-53).
According to Former Asia Secretary of the World Council of Churches, Park Kyung-seo, it was no wonder South Korean Christians questioned whether North Korean Christians were ‘real’ Christians or whether they had been “planted by the government to serve as propaganda to the outside world”, when the WCC invited both South and North Koreans to ‘A Seminar on the Biblical and Theological Foundation of Christian Concern for Peace’ in Glion, Switzerland, 2nd-5thSeptember 1986. A former Executive Secretary of the WCC, Erich Weingartner attests this meeting “began with fear and trembling, as each side tested the other, openly confessing their mistrust”. However, he continues saying:
“The celebration of the Eucharist at the conclusion, a powerful symbol of the unity of all children of God, broke down the invisible walls of separation that have tormented the Korean nation for too long. Participants from North and South dissolved into tears and embraces.”
Returning from the Glion meeting, the South Korean National Council of Churches announced a declaration on peace and reconciliation on the Korean peninsula in 1988:
“We confess that the Christians of the south especially have sinned by turning the anti-communist ideology into a virtual religious idol, and have thus not been content to treat just the communist regime in the north as the enemy, but have further damned our northern compatriots and others whose ideologies differ from our own (John 13:14-15; 4:20-21). This is not only a violation of the commandments, but is also a sin of indifference toward our neighbors who have suffered and continue to suffer under the division; it is, moreover, a sin of failure to ameliorate their suffering through the love of Christ. (John 13:17).”
Many South Korean Christians found it hard to accept this declaration, arguing that North Korean communists were indeed the enemy of Christianity and that fighting the enemy of Christianity could not be a sin.
Perhaps I still do not fully grasp the meaning of being a ‘real’ Christian. But, if Christians are people who state the above confession from 1988, I think they are very cool, courageous people, and I aspire to be one.
I once took a lecture by a Korean Minjung theologian. In the lecture, he told a story of a thief and a professor, who shared a prison cell, and escaped the cell together. On the way out of the prison, the thief made a mistake by making a small noise in the corridor. When a prison guard shouted, ‘Who’s there?’, the thief pretended to be a cat by making a cat noise. It seemed the crisis was aborted. But, soon, the professor also made a small noise, and the guard shouted again, ‘Who’s there?’ Then, the professor said, “I am a cat”. They were both caught and sent back to their cell. After the story, the theologian asked the audience, whether they would want to be a Christian who says they are Christian or a Christian who tries to be like one by following the life and teaching of Jesus.
I can always answer the question about my religion that I am a Christian, but I continue to aspire to be like one.
Dong Jin Kim
Jin is Irish Research Council and Marie Curie Fellow at the Irish School of Ecumenics, Trinity College Dublin. His current research project on the peace processes in Northern Ireland and Korea is funded by the Irish Research Council and the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant agreement No 713279. He is the author of The Korean Peace Process and Civil Society (Palgrave Macmillan, 2019).