What is Important?

A professor emeritus in the Sunday Talk column of the Catholic Times reminds readers that, at times, more than the numbers, it’s the method that is important.

As a child, the columnist lived in a large extended family. His grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins ​​all lived together in one house. Mealtimes were always chaotic. A single bowl of soup would be placed in the center of the table, and spoons would frantically dart back and forth. The few pieces of tofu floating in the soup were always a source of competition. As the youngest, he would often have the tofu he had managed to scoop up snatched away by his older siblings. There was soup, but there was never any tofu left for him.

At the time, he thought it was because there wasn't enough food, and that it was unavoidable given the number of siblings. However, looking back on that scene now, he realizes the problem wasn't the quantity of food, but the way it was shared. At a table where everyone reached for the food at the same time, there was no waiting, no consideration for others. As a result, there was food left over, but our inner selves were always hungry.

We often remember the story of the five loaves of bread and two fish from the Gospel of Mark. We remember it as a story in which the bread multiplied, and the fish multiplied. However, if we read the story carefully, we realize that the Gospel emphasizes not the numbers, but the method. Jesus saw the crowd and felt compassion for them, not because they were hungry, but because they were like sheep without a shepherd.

Hunger is not simply a matter of the stomach. When people don't know when they will eat, who is responsible, or what to expect, they become anxious. Their hearts break before their stomachs. The disciples' suggestion is very realistic: "Send them away so they can buy food for themselves." From today's market perspective, it's a rational solution. It means everyone is responsible for themselves and should solve their own problems.

But Jesus' words are completely different: "You give them something to eat."

Jesus had the people sit down in groups of 50 and 100. He calmed the chaos and prepared everyone to receive. In a disorderly setting, even an abundance of food can lead to conflict. Sharing begins only when order is established. This scene quietly demonstrates the preparatory process preceding eating.

Then, Jesus looked up to heaven and offered a prayer of thanksgiving. This pre-meal gratitude is not merely a formality. It's the moment when food transforms from "my rightful share" to "a gift entrusted to me today." Possession leads to competition, but a gift opens the door to sharing. This confession is embedded in the short prayer we offer before meals.

The bread doesn't go directly from Jesus' hands to the crowd. It's passed through the disciples. The miracle doesn't remain in the hands of one person: it's completed through participation and distribution. Everyone ate their fill, and twelve baskets of leftovers remained. This isn't excess, but a sign of abundance. Having enough to eat and still having leftovers—that's the abundance the Bible speaks of.

If we apply this story to our own dinner tables today, it raises questions. Do we truly lack resources, or is it the order of sharing that has broken down? Before increasing the quantity, have we first established order? Before eating, have we given thanks?

His childhood memory of the tofu in the soup bowl now holds a different lesson. Jesus' miracle wasn't only about changing the quantity of bread, but about changing the relationships between people. A ​​miracle is still possible at our dinner tables today. However, that miracle begins not with numbers, but with the way we share. 

Called to be Saints

In the Catholic Peace Weekly, a director of a youth center wants us to build a true friendship with Jesus, reminding us we are called to holiness within God's plan. These are helpful thoughts as we begin Lent.

God has a plan. We are a part of that plan. Catholic believers live with the assurance that no matter what happens, everything will ultimately turn out well. This is because God is the Master of History. Everything that happens in the world (truly everything) happens not because God willed it, but because He permitted it.

If we look a little deeper into the history of the Church, we see that during the darkest moments (crises, persecution, wars, and heresies), God always prepared a small number of faithful people. These were people who did not give up and endured everything necessary to maintain their faith to the end. Most of them are unnamed saints. We are here today because of their faithfulness, and we will one day meet them in heaven. They are people to whom we are grateful. 

Korea is also a country where faith has taken root in the blood of countless martyrs. Those who testified to their faith even when the world did not recognize them—most of them were also anonymous saints. However, when we look at our society today, we easily encounter Catholic believers who are weary of their faith. People who simply endure their faith life, considering faith not as the center of their lives, but merely one area among many.  “Isn’t going to Sunday Mass enough? Why do you have to be so zealous?” We hear these kinds of remarks all too often.

However, Christianity has never been a religion of “minimums.” God has not called us to a place where we merely follow rules or perform external practices, but to something far greater: holiness. As it says in 1 Thessalonians 4:3, “For this is the will of God, your sanctification.”

God desires that we become saints. He invites us into a life of friendship with Him, fully immersed in His love, and sharing that love with our neighbors. This sanctification is not an abstract ideal; it is a very personal calling. God calls you and me to be saints. There’s no need to idealize sainthood. Saints weren’t people for whom everything went smoothly. They were people who struggled, stumbled, and got back up again.

Saint Thomas Aquinas said that the most important thing for becoming a saint is the will to become a saint. The first question isn’t, “What should I do?” but rather, “Do I truly want to become a saint?”

Then another question arises: What does it mean to be a saint? This isn’t an attempt to offer a “recipe for holiness” or a quick fix; such a thing doesn’t exist. Rather, through this writing, I want to reawaken the longing for God, the thirst for Him, that we all possess. The moment we realize that we are called to holiness, everything else naturally falls into place. Nevertheless, there are a few important key points.

First is a personal and living relationship with Jesus Christ. A true friendship, where Jesus becomes the center of our lives and our true friend. A relationship where we can talk to Him about everything—our joys and our worries—and entrust everything to Him. Saint Josemaría explained it this way: "It can be divided into stages: seeking Him, finding Him, knowing Him, and loving Him." 

Everything flows from this friendship that grows in contemplative prayer. Love for one's neighbor, the strength to accept the cross, the desire to share Christ with others, and the joy and peace that come from Him are all born from this.

We seek the saints. But perhaps God is not asking you to seek the saints; rather, He is seeking you.

Transcendental Technique-- Meaning in Life

The Transcendental Technique of Philosophical Counseling is a perspective-based healing process that begins with the relationship with oneself and progresses through stages of relating to others and the transcendent. This was the subject of a recent Philosophical Chat column in the Catholic Peace Weekly.

The transcendental technique of philosophical counseling is characterized by a perspective-based healing process that begins with one's relationship to oneself and progresses through stages of relating to others and to the absolute other (the transcendent). 

The first stage is "first-person perspective healing," which involves managing oneself by examining emotions and escaping the whirlwind of intense feelings. The second stage is "second-person perspective healing," which involves confronting and understanding the events (the other) that caused intense emotions through rational reflection and introspection. The third stage is "third-person perspective healing," which involves pursuing ultimate and absolute meaning (the absolute other) through continuous spiritual questioning.

The first stage is healing from a first-person perspective. Crises and suffering in life always begin with overwhelming, negative, and intense emotions. What can we do when intense anger, sadness, lamentation, despair, fear, and emptiness overwhelm us for whatever reason? In fact, what we can do in the whirlwind of uncontrollable emotions is very limited. This is because rationality is almost paralyzed at the moment. This is why Boethius (480-524), in "The Consolation of Philosophy," prescribed for himself, before his unjust death, not the "strong medicine" of rational reason, but the "weak medicine" of managing emotions. To manage emotions, rather than denying or avoiding them, we must return to ourselves and listen to our confused emotions with a sincere heart. What is needed most at this time is compassion, comfort, empathy, and love.

The second stage is healing in a second-person perspective. Questions triggered by emotions are still not clearly articulated. This means that our problems cannot be solved simply by managing our emotions. While emotions clearly trigger questions, the direction of those questions is guided not by emotion, but by reason. The core of second-person perspective healing is to move beyond self-centeredness, turning one's attention to the surrounding world and others, thereby confronting and objectifying events (situations), assigning meaning, and intuitively grasping their essence. Of course, this requires deep philosophical insight and, if necessary, the help of a professional philosophical counselor. Above all, the philosophical counselor, within empathetic dialogue, helps the client accurately perceive the essence of the situation unfolding before them through insightful philosophical thinking and discernment—in other words, "the rationality of reason combined with the emotions that intuitively grasp life."

The third stage is healing in a third-person perspective. This is a stage of spiritual healing in which an absolute other intervenes, and the movement of transcendence moves toward something absolute that encompasses the entire meaning of life. Here, the absolute other refers to the ultimate ground in a metaphysical sense, the transcendent being or existence itself. 

Meaning is never confined to the individual; it is infinitely open towards the whole and the absolute. This is why we constantly assign meaning in life. As long as meaning is not a nihilistic self-negation, it is always grounded in existence, and existence reveals its meaning through human existential commitment. Existence supports meaning, but meaning is revealed through human existence. Therefore, as a "subject of meaning," humanity actively, not passively, relates to the absolute other, experiencing self-transcendence that goes beyond its own boundaries through the continuous assignment of meaning in life. 

No More War!

The Korean Catholic Times column 'View from the Ark' by the director of the Jesuit Human Rights Research Center gives us some background to an important issue in our present world society.

The world is once again filled with the language of war. The massacre in Gaza, the war in Ukraine, the state violence of the Iranian regime, the U.S military threats against Greenland... Just hearing the news is dizzying and unsettling. The violent and irresponsible rhetoric of superpower leaders shows that war is no longer an emergency situation but is becoming a constant means of politics.

Even South Korea's democracy, achieved through long struggles and conflicts between peace and war, experienced a major crisis with a "rebellion from above" that even planned for war. In this age of war, how can we become people who bear witness to and practice peace? This is not just a question, but a question for the community that requires sacrifice and courage.

When considering the reality of war, the most important consideration is not military strategy or policy but the individuals who are suffering. The suffering of war extends beyond physical destruction. It includes the grief of the victims, the anxiety about ongoing violence, the moral and psychological damage people experience, and hatred and discrimination.

Any war erodes trust in peace itself and, therefore, always undermines humanity. Instead of easily saying that war is inevitable, we must first ask who is suffering, who is being forced into silence, and who is being pressured to abandon their conscience. 

Archbishop Timothy Broglio, head of the U.S. Archdiocese for the Military Services, stated that President Trump's remarks about invading Greenland constituted a "morally questionable" military order and "could not possibly be considered a situation of just war." He clearly affirmed that soldiers have an ethical right to disobey such orders on conscience-based grounds.

The Church cannot simply absolutize order or obedience. For a long time, the Church has adopted the "just war" theory, which holds that war can be waged as a necessary evil under strictly defined conditions. However, since the Second Vatican Council, a turning point has been reached, emphasizing the primacy of individual conscience in the face of military decisions by those in power. Conscience is not merely a subjective feeling, but the deepest inner capacity of a human being to discern truth before God. Therefore, the statement that conscience takes precedence over obedience when an order is unjust is not a radical departure for the Church, but rather a matter of its orthodoxy.

In his first message after establishing World Peace Day, Pope Paul VI directly linked peace to human rights ("The Promotion of Human Rights, the Path to Peace"). Human rights are a component of a just society, and peace is the achievement of integral, just, and participatory development. Upholding human rights is largely synonymous with peace.

Therefore, Pope John Paul II also asked, "How can there be war if all human rights are respected?" and stated that a culture of human rights is necessarily a culture of peace ("Respect for Human Rights"). The Church's declaration that "peace is a good that must be promoted" directly confronts all hypocrisy regarding violence and war.

Nevertheless, many doubt whether peace is possible. Countering this "skeptical certainty" is the task of the Church. Peace is not a static state but a dynamic process; it must be created and is continually realized gradually. Pope Paul VI said, "Peace is only possible when it is considered a duty." An inner compulsion stemming from the demands of human existence moves us.

Peace is possible, and it is our duty. Conscience is social, and faith is public. In an age of war, Christians are called not to indifference but to discernment, not to silence but to responsible speech. Peace is not idealism. It is the most realistic attitude of faith to treat human beings as human beings, no matter what.

Reality More Important Than Ideas

In the Korean Catholic Times, a Lecturer at the Catholic University of Korea, with a doctorate in Peace issues, offers the following reflection: “Reality is more important than ideas.” This is an admonition given by Pope Francis in paragraph 231 of *Evangelii Gaudium*. The meaning of this admonition can vary depending on what one understands by "reality."

There are diverse understandings of reality. For Plato, reality is the world beyond the objects perceived by the human senses, a world of eternal, unchanging archetypes. What is perceived by human senses is merely a shadow of reality. For Kant, reality is the "thing-in-itself," a world beyond human perception and unattainable by human understanding.

For empiricists such as John Locke and David Hume, reality is the physical world as observed through human intuitive experience. Anything not experienced, or that cannot be experienced, is not reality. For example, the shape, color, smell, and taste of an orange—the sensory data—combine to constitute the reality of the orange.

For the phenomenologist Edmund Husserl, reality is an object towards which human consciousness is directed. While it may seem like the same brick, for a carpenter, the brick's reality is its use as a building material, whereas for a robber intending to harm someone, the brick's reality is its use as a weapon.

More recently, Quentin Meillassoux, a philosopher advocating "speculative realism," argues that reality is a vast world that exists independently of human perception, even prior to the emergence of humanity. For example, the Earth itself is an absolute reality that existed before humanity and independently of human consciousness.

Pope Francis does not deny these various theories of reality. However, he maintains a more grounded understanding of reality. It encompasses God and the entire created world, "the sun and the moon, the fir trees and a single small flower, the eagle and the sparrow, the spectacle of their countless diversity and differences" (*Laudato Si'* 86). These things—the sky, the earth, the wind, the water, and humanity—are endlessly interconnected. The Earth, the Sun, and the Universe are vast realities that predate humanity.

Yet, humans, considering themselves exceptional, act as if they are the arbiters of God's creation, judging and selectively choosing based on their own self-centered perspectives. They presume to understand everything, shaping and evaluating reality according to their limited understanding, forcing it into their own preconceived notions. They present their shallow, contrived ideas as if they were the true reality.

The biblical warning, "God made mankind simple, but they have gone in search of many schemes" (Ecclesiastes 7:29), perfectly describes this reality. In this regard, Pope Francis warns against this tendency, stating that "reality simply exists, but thoughts are refined," highlighting how humans, while claiming to pursue reality, distance themselves from it.

All realities are interconnected, and the interconnected whole is also a reality. "For from him and through him, and to him are all things" (Romans 11:36).  Nothing among them is insignificant. Yet, humans, with their narrow-minded thinking, manipulate these realities, creating hierarchies based on their own standards, rejecting and harming those they deem inferior, thus obscuring God's world. In doing so, the order of life is destroyed, and the playing field becomes even more uneven.

For Pope Francis, the suffering of the vulnerable who groan on this uneven playing field is a vivid reality. Therefore, the means that obscure this reality must be rejected. Just as the Ten Commandments state, "You shall not murder," we must say, "Today we must say 'no' to an economy of exclusion and inequality" (Evangelii Gaudium, 53).

We must restore God's reality, which has been obscured by humanity's narrow-minded thinking. To achieve this, there must be a continuous dialogue between reality and our understanding of it. Because living in a world of mere words, a world of images and sophistry, is dangerous. (See "The Joy of the Gospel," paragraph 231)

We must properly grasp reality. We must fully concretize the fundamental truth that all life, including non-human beings, is oriented towards God in a way that reflects their interconnectedness. That is the path to salvation contained in the message that "reality is more important than ideas."

Abba: God The Father (Mark 14: 36)

The Catholic Times, in a recent article, gives readers a meditation on addressing God as Abba.

What are the first words a baby says? Probably "Mom" and "Dad," right? Since these are easy sounds for babies to pronounce, it's said that in many languages, not just Korean, the words for "mother" and "father" used by infants are similar in pronunciation to "Mom" and "Dad." (Ma and Pa)

In Aramaic, the word for "father" used by children is "abba." Aramaic was a language widely used in the Middle East from the 8th century BC to around the 7th century AD. Similar in meaning to the Korean word, it's said that babies used "abba" to call their fathers when they first started speaking, and even as adults, they used it as an affectionate term for their fathers.

This term, "abba," has given rise to a title within the Church: Abbot. In the Eastern regions of Egypt and Syria, monks called their spiritual teachers "abba," meaning "spiritual father," in Aramaic. Later, monasteries following the spirituality of Saint Benedict also adopted this term, and the Abbot's duties and roles were systematized.

Today, "Abbot" is primarily used to refer to the head of a large monastery that follows the Rule of Saint Benedict. Therefore, the Latin word for a large monastery is "Abbatia." Abbatia is also the origin of the English word "Abbey." A female head of a large monastery is called an "Abbatissa" (Abbess). All these words come from "abba."

In fact, besides Abbot, there are many other "fathers" in the Church. For example, "Papa," which refers to the Pope, is similar in pronunciation to "abba." "Papa" comes from the Greek word "papas (πάπας)," meaning father. Originally, this term referred to the highest-ranking leaders of local churches, such as bishops and abbots, but since the 8th century, it has come to refer to the Bishop of Rome, the Pope.

The term "Church Father" (pater ecclesiae), meaning "leader of the church" or "teacher of the faith" after the apostles, also refers to "father of the church". More closely, the term "priest" (pater spiritualis) is also a title meaning "spiritual father."

While there are many "fathers" in the Church, all of these fathers ultimately serve one Father.

As mentioned earlier, "abba" is an Aramaic word. Aramaic was the language spoken by Jesus 2000 years ago. Jesus called God "Abba! Father!" (Mark 14:36). He called God "Abba" with the same sound and meaning as a child calling their father, in a very intimate way.

And Jesus allowed us to call God "Abba" as well. The Church teaches that "we have become children of God in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit we can call God 'Abba, Father!'" 

Do you feel that God is distant and difficult to approach? If so, why not try calling Him "Abba"?

World Day of the Sick

    

The Catholic Times Weekly provides an overview of one group in Korea and their activities on the World Day of the Sick.

World Day of the Sick (February 11th) is a day to raise social awareness of the sick and to reflect on the mission of healthcare professionals and volunteers who support them in their work. 

Today, there are patients we should pay attention to: undocumented immigrants, those with long-term arrears in health insurance premiums due to financial hardship, and neighbors in healthcare blind spots who are excluded from support. Through the activities of Joseph's Clinic of the Joseph Sharing Foundation, which diagnoses their desperate reality and provides 'social prescriptions' encompassing medical, emotional, welfare, and legal support in the heart of slum areas, we reflect on the true meaning of "being there" for the sick.

The World Health Organization (WHO) constitution stipulates that all human beings have the right to the highest attainable standard of health, regardless of economic or social conditions, without discrimination. However, in Korean society today, some are excluded even from this basic right.

According to Ministry of Justice statistics, there are approximately 500,000 undocumented immigrants residing in Korea. These individuals are outside the public healthcare system and receive virtually no support even in the event of accidents or serious illnesses. The Emergency Welfare Support Act also only applies to South Korean citizens and registered immigrants.

Even within the health insurance system, blind spots exist. According to data from the National Health Insurance Service in 2025, over 66,000 households are experiencing limited access to benefits due to their inability to pay insurance premiums. While the system aims to cover all citizens, in reality, economic poverty leads to exclusion from medical welfare. Furthermore, since insurance is based on registered residential addresses, those without a fixed residence are also pushed outside the welfare safety net.

The Ministry of Health and Welfare's "Third Comprehensive Plan for Basic Livelihood Security (2024-2026)" estimates that approximately 50,000 people are in the blind spot of medical assistance. These are individuals who are excluded from support because, legally, they have "responsible family members" even though they live disconnected from their families.  They cannot afford non-covered medical expenses and therefore do not receive proper treatment. Many of these individuals live in slum areas, resulting in significant healthcare gaps in these communities. According to investigations by the National Human Rights Commission and the Seoul Metropolitan Government, two out of ten residents in slum areas cannot access hospitals even when they want to, and approximately 40% of respondents reported having financial difficulties.

Since its opening in 1987, Joseph Clinic has provided free charitable medical care in various areas of Seoul. The people served by Joseph Clinic are not simply sick. Many have delayed treatment, leading to worsened conditions, and many also suffer from mental illness, isolation, and trauma. Sometimes people have approached them without considering their mental trauma, causing secondary harm.  

The suffering they experience goes beyond simple medical problems. It's a complex issue involving exclusion from social safety nets, the collapse of their livelihoods, and psychological and emotional isolation. Therefore, beyond simple treatment, integrated care, companionship for fundamental recovery, and comprehensive support are desperately needed.

Responding to this need, Joseph Clinic has consistently carried out a "home visit medical care" program for patients with mobility difficulties or those suffering from serious illnesses or disabilities. After relocating the clinic near Seoul Station in July 2025, they established a separate organization, the "Joseph Neighborhood Love Center," to further expand home-visit medical care. The center's home-visit medical team serves patients in slum areas and the tent village near Seoul Station. They provide diagnosis, prescriptions, medication guidance, and, if necessary, transfer to a hospital.

The core of the program is to provide comprehensive "social prescriptions" that include medical, emotional, welfare, and legal support. The foundation's secretary-general, said, "Following the church's spirit that no one should be discriminated against in terms of the preciousness of life, and in accordance with the wishes of the founder, we plan to provide more specialized care." He added, "We are waiting for the participation of volunteers from various fields, including mental health professionals, psychological counselors, alcohol addiction specialists, and trauma specialists."

The Joseph Neighborly Love Center plans to officially launch in February, moving into a building in a slum area to provide hands-on support to patients in medically deprived areas.