The Passionists in Korea (continued)
Looking back over thirty years, I am struck by several things. First and foremost is a conviction that among the many decisions made in my life, the request to go to Korea and its ultimate acceptance by the powers-that-be was probably the biggest example of God’s mercy that I have ever experienced. I cannot imagine another life in which I could have been happier or more content.
Secondly, being a part of the formation of this Korean Province, despite the tears and at times, desperate problems that have besieged us has made me realize that somehow in God’s great mysterious love, something has been created that gives Him great glory and returns His love for our human family in a very concrete way. Despite the problems, whether my own human weaknesses or the failures of my brothers, we all have played a role in developing Passionist life in an enduring and significant way. From being a distant outpost in East Asia, we have become a full member in the community of Provinces that make up the global Congregation of the Passion.
Thirdly, the great dialogue of culture that takes place between a missionary and the place where he or she works has been one of the most difficult but most rewarding aspects of life in this corner of the world. The day when I could say honestly “I will never become a Korean” was the day that I was able to accept the reality of my “foreignness” and not let that get in the way of meaningful interchange with this ancient land’s people and history. The day when I recognized that I would never be totally fluent in this language was the day that I knew that language was actually just another form of human communication-and using proper grammar does not mean that you communicate on a deeply human level. Language, rather than being a barrier, is a bridge that only serves to communicate to fellow human beings-it is not an end in itself. This bridge of language is very important, mind you, but it is not the object of life itself.
Part of the experience in a country like Korea is coming to terms with the insertion of what was originally a group of western men into a context that was not only totally foreign to them-but also had existed for thousands of years with few common denominators shared with their native culture. From the first days I was in Korea, this overwhelming fact of being “other” was perhaps the most stressful experience that I had. It was stressful, but at the same time fascinating to come to a simple understanding of a people and geography that has matured over the years to a perhaps deeper understanding of the values that make up a Korean culture.
Living and working in this context, I found myself going through a number of phases, or stages, as the years passed. The first phase could only be described as total and complete confusion. I was twenty-seven years old, but I only had the ability to communicate on the level of a new born baby. Becoming so dependent on others for their interpretation of my thoughts and feelings was not only challenging, it was also infuriating. How I longed for the day when I could communicate easily with the Koreans with whom I was living. One of the great graces for me was meeting two women who were patient enough to listen to me, and also share their lives and thoughts with me. They took the time to communicate simply, and to correct my first faltering steps gently. One was an older woman who was our cook-a woman who had walked from Pyeong-Yang to Pusan (about 800 kilometers) during the Korean War with her six children. As the months went by, and I could understand a bit of what she was saying, I was so deeply impressed with what she had done in her life. The second was a young lady, just recently graduated from University, who was working as the secretary to our Regional Vicar, Father Raymond. Their patience with me was deeply appreciated.
The next stage was dealing with my first attempts at actually working in Korea. After two years of language school, I could speak Korean fairly well, but I could understand very little. Different accents and dialects were not considered in our language training. Yet these were the very things I found most fascinating. A tiny country like Korea has such a variety of dialects, that it was always a pleasure to attempt understanding them. For some reason, the more abrasive the dialect to standard Korean-speakers, the more I liked it! I was also made the director of our new retreat centre in Seoul-which offered so many challenges that there were days I felt totally overwhelmed. But as those months and years went by, suddenly I discovered that I was looking forward to the next day-and doing something new and different with the many men and women who were our employees. I found myself feeling not only more confident, but also much more content with the assignment to Korea.
The final stage is the one that began many years ago when I was made a local superior of a community after just six or seven years in the country. Since then, with the exception of an assignment in Rome for a number of years, I have had the honor of serving as a local superior almost continuously. This has been the best period, because it has allowed me to deal with Korean Passionists on a much deeper level than I thought possible. Through these over twenty years, I no longer feel it as “us foreigners” and “them”-but rather in my heart of hearts-as “us together,” brothers who serve the same Lord of life and victory. We are the Passionist Community of Korea, and we are the sons of Paul of the Cross, seeking to keep alive in the hearts of the faithful and in our own hearts, the memory of the Passion of Jesus. We serve the Church, some of us more humbly than the others, but always as brothers who share a deep and abiding love of the person of Jesus. For that I am thankful everyday of my life.
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