62. Coming to the Church

Even after my brother resigned from being the branch manager of Hanmi Bank in the Valley and moved to another bank, I continued to use that branch. This happened around the year Brian entered UCLA. While chatting with a bank employee, I learned that her daughter had also gone to UCLA. After that, whenever I visited the bank, we would ask each other how our children were doing. One day, she asked if I happened to attend church and invited me to visit the Catholic church she went to. When I showed little interest, she didn’t press me any further.

 

When I married my wife, I found out she was a Catholic who had been baptized as an infant and had faithfully attended church with her grandfather and grandmother during her childhood, though she was currently lapsed. My wife’s baptismal name was "Serena," the same as my late mother’s. It was a name given due to a small misunderstanding. When the priest administering the infant baptism asked the mother what the (baby's) baptismal name was, she misunderstood it as a question about her own baptismal name and replied, "It is Serena." Later, when my wife received her Confirmation, she was given a new name, "Joanna."

 

It was around November, about three or four years after my wife had arrived in the United States. I felt that she was having a hard time adapting to a dry, monotonous life in America. In Korea, she had held a job and maintained a vibrant social life with friends, but in a strange foreign land, she knew no one and spent her days looking only at me, which must have been difficult. Thinking it might be good for her to go to church and socialize with people, I asked the bank employee who attended church for its location and paid a visit.

 

It was a small church with just over a hundred parishioners. If it hadn't been for our encounter with Father Luke Shin Hong-Sik that day, my visit to the church might have been a one-time event. Spotting us as strangers, the priest approached me and requested that I absolutely come see him after the Mass concluded. His gaze was so sincere and warm, at that very moment, I found myself deeply drawn to him.

 

That was how I began attending church. At the end of that year, a home Mass was held at the house of Katarina, who belonged to our church group. While the priest distributed the Holy Eucharist to the others, he placed his hand on my head to bless me, as I had not yet been baptized. In that exact moment, I had a spiritual experience. It wasn’t an audible voice, but rather a profound feeling, a message that resonated within me: "I know everything about the hardships you have lived through. Now, come to me, be comforted, and find peace."

Tears streamed down my face. The memory of that moment is so vividly engraved in my mind that I can never forget it.

 

About a year later, I was baptized and received the baptismal name "John." I also received the Sacrament of Matrimony, essentially marrying the same woman for the third time. God’s ways seem to belong to a realm that cannot be predicted or understood by a human's small intellect. My parents moving to Ventura and becoming Catholics, as well as my meeting my wife and getting baptized, were all exactly like that. Because I became Catholic, I was able to offer Yeondo (traditional Korean Catholic prayers for the dead) and hold funeral Masses when my parents passed away.

 

Catholic Church does not view traditional ancestral rites or Charye (holiday memorial services) as idolatry, I was also able to perform those ancestral rituals. Though I have stopped now, I used to gather my siblings on the anniversaries of my parents' deaths to perform the rites until the traditional three-year mourning period had passed. These days, I offer anniversary Masses for them instead.

 

I am not fond of a blessing-seeking faith (Gubok Sinhaeng) that prays merely for the family's health and peace, the children's success, or the prosperity of a business. I believe it is only right to accept the hardships and disasters given to us as a part of life and to live through them quietly. I do not blame anyone or harbor resentment for my own disability or the difficulties I have faced throughout my life.

 

"Life is like Saeongjima" (The horse of Saeong—a blessing in disguise) is my motto. There is no need to be overly overjoyed, nor is there a need to be deeply discouraged. Everything flows along a destined path. What I can do is try my best within my given environment, creating my own sense of worth and joy as I live.

 

There are many churches in America. They range from megachurches with thousands of congregants, multiple associate pastors, and ministers, to pioneering churches where a small number of believers gather in a rented house. Because there are so many theological seminaries and oriental medicine colleges that indiscriminately issue degrees, pastors and acupuncturists are overflowing. Some colleges even close down due to immigration crackdowns after handing out student visas haphazardly.

 

Elders and congregants in Protestant churches sometimes dismiss pastors or ministers they dislike and hire new ones. If they disagree on views, congregants will leave the church, hire a pastor, and establish a new church altogether. Much like gourmets wandering around in search of delicious restaurants, believers go shopping for sermons and churches that suit their individual tastes.

The Catholic Church is not much different. As far as I know, among the Korean communities in the United States, there are almost no instances where a diocese created a parish out of necessity and sent a Korean priest. Most of them are churches formed by Korean faithful gathering together and inviting a priest from a local diocese in Korea. Regional dioceses like Daegu or Masan have dispatched priests all across America. Regardless of geographical boundaries, parishioners simply attend the church they want to go to. If they have a falling out for one reason or another, they simply move to another church.

 

A community should ideally be formed by people from the same locality. Only then can they live as neighbors and exchange help. If there is a disagreement, they must find a way to live by understanding and making concessions to one another. Changing communities is not a desirable solution. In the Heavenly Kingdom we will see in the next life, could it possibly be filled only with people who are to my liking? A person I hated and avoided in this life might end up becoming my neighbor. Where will I go then? After all, there is only one Heaven.

 

Occasionally, there are priests who disappoint the faithful. In these cases, the fault lies more with the believers. When someone moves into a new house or opens a new business, the priest comes to bless the housewarming or opening ceremony. They handed him an envelope of money. When a priest presides over a funeral Mass or a wedding Mass, they hand him an envelope. On the day I was baptized and received the Sacrament of Matrimony, my godmother asked if I had prepared an envelope for the priest, so in a flurry, I borrowed money to give him one. I also gave envelopes to the priests who presided over my parents' funeral Masses. At the time, I did it out of gratitude, but thinking about it now, I wonder if it was truly the right thing to do.

 

There was a parishioner who frequently accompanied a priest to bring Holy Communion to his mother in a nursing home. He mentioned that every single time, he treated the priest to a meal and gave him a monetary token of appreciation. Presumably, priests did not demand these tokens from parishioners from the very beginning. What started as an expression of gratitude likely degenerated into a custom.

 

Even during gatherings, if a priest attends, the variety and quality of the food change. People subtly prefer to sit close to the priest to make an impression. It is as if they mistakenly believe that being in front of the priest is the same as being in front of Jesus.

 

It is only right for a priest to attend the milestone events of community members to bless and comfort them; that is his duty. Furthermore, a priest could even be the one to give congratulatory money, condolence money, or gifts. Am I wrong to believe that celebrating Mass is meant to be done in place of such material exchanges? Or am I too naïve?