Challenge My Faith? Be Prepared for a Vociferous Response

I first met Kim Kwang-min seven years ago in Damyang, down in South Jeolla Province. He was there with his wife and two young daughters, and I was—par for the course—alone. Kwang-min was then and still is, employed by Seoul Metro. We got along quite well in Damyang, but things took a bad turn in the following weeks as he pressed me to accept his specific approach to Christianity. I made quite clear that, already blessed with a deep and abiding faith in the Lamb of God, I saw no need for major alterations. I may have sent Kwang-min a couple of the articles in my web site showing that I am among the true believers. Still he badgered me, insisting he was right. His way was the only way.

There came a point when I refused to take any more and directed a very succinct e-mail to him: “Hey, stop preaching at me!”

With that, our communication ended—or so I thought. In mid-November, Kwang-min wrote again. I had, in the meantime, pretty much dismissed him and our contretemps. Although I remembered his pushy behavior from 2017, I was willing to accept an offer to attend a Christmas concert to be held at Yeouido, near the National Assembly building. (Neither of us then knew that 10 days later, it would be the site of massive protests over President Yoon Seok-yeol’s short-lived declaration of martial law.) The event, held in the main auditorium of KBS, one of Korea’s biggest media outlets, was nice enough. Kwang-min drove me to Yeoksam Station, where we said goodbye.

He was back with a second related invitation a couple of weeks later. This was put on by the same organization and was held at Good News Mission, where he is a member. The church, located in the Seocho district, is plush and modern, but its antecedents starting in 1972 were quite rustic. A series of panels inside showed its founder, Park Ock-soo, in both a pastoral mode and meeting with numerous religious and political leaders from around the world—Billy Graham writ small, if you will. Rev. Park, now 80 years old, was obviously a much-respected man within the walls of Good News Mission. When Kwang-min told me at length of his church’s strict adherence to holy scripture, I nodded my head politely. But I think he wanted more enthusiastic agreement.

A cursory look at the Wikipedia sites of Rev. Park and the Good News Mission makes me wonder. He and the church were sued in a fraud/scam case, although it ended in an acquittal by the Korean Supreme Court. There have been other accusations, controversies and scandals; in one of them, a young woman died. Some people think the church teaches a weird doctrine and is a cult of sorts or is at least on the fringes of mainstream Christianity.

The show, as before, was well done. I refer to the singing, dancing and music-making of young Koreans and the portrayal of Mary and Joseph and the birth of their special child in Bethlehem two millennia ago. It was divided into segments. In one of them, a rostrum was brought out and Rev. Park proceeded to give a long and repetitive sermon; I listened to the translated version by means of an earplug. It contained at least a dozen references to sin. Bored, I checked my phone for messages, e-mails and so on. This, too, did not escape the attention of Kwang-min. Once it was over, the crowd filed out. In the foyer, we met his wife and two daughters (far more grown up after seven years), who had arrived late and sat elsewhere in the auditorium. I gave all three of them Christmas socks, and we talked briefly.

Kwang-min had stated his willingness to take me back to Gangnam Station, although a series of shuttle buses were idling and ready to go. No more than a minute after we began inching toward the parking lot exit, he said something that reflected our unhappy parting of the ways the first time around: “I don’t think you really believe….”

My immediate response may be likened to a combination of the Vesuvius, Pinatubo and St. Helens volcanoes—hot, loud and forceful: “What? I cannot believe you said that! You don’t have a clue! That is utter, absolute and complete b—–t! Do you not realize how narrow and self-righteous you are? You should be ashamed! I suggest you get down on your knees and ask God’s forgiveness! You pulled this stunt once before, remember?”

These words and others like them went on for approximately 45 seconds. Kwang-min had no opportunity to respond because I was ripping him with such fervor. I could see on his face and in his eyes that he was stunned to have provoked such a reaction. He may have even feared that I would bust his jaw (borrowing a line from Ring Lardner’s 1916 classic You Know Me Al).

During a brief pause in my vehement denunciation, he said: “I apologize….”

To which I replied, “Yeah, you should apologize for making such an outrageous statement! I doubt that Jesus approves of what you said! Do you have even an ounce of wisdom? You’ve got a lot to learn! Really! This is the biggest bunch of b—–t I ever heard in my life!”

I then said that perhaps I should get out of his Hyundai and board one of the shuttle buses to our left. After Kwang-min insisted I stay, we drove in stony silence to Gangnam Station. He put out his hand, and I shook it reluctantly and without a trace of warmth. My fury was such that as I watched him drive away, I uttered another round of curses and gesticulations, fully realizing that what I had done and continued to do was not in accord with Christian admonitions like “turn the other cheek.” I am willing to forgive a lot of things, but questioning my faith is not one of them.

Kwang-min’s unctuous, holier-than-thou, smug and dare I say Tartuffian attitude had really irked me. His suggestion that my faith is somehow inadequate and that I ought to be exactly like him merited the verbal battering I had administered. He got what he deserved.