Korean Catholic Rural Communities

 

The Cover Story in the latest Catholic Times Weekly examines Catholic rural life, mission stations, and population decline.      

One pastor, looking back at the Catholic Church and the small rural communities he has known, felt he was “Looking back at the Catholic Church at its beginning; he was returning to the early Church.

A priest  of the Paris Foreign Missions Society, the first pastor of one of these rural communities in 1889, compared the Catholic Church to the early Church community in the Acts of the Apostles, saying, “Although the Catholics of the Catholic Church are poor in worldly goods, they share what little they have with one another, regardless of social status.” He expressed his admiration, saying, “Even the catechumens are following the example of their elder brothers.”

This passage demonstrates that the Catholic community, the root of the Korean Church, testified to its faith through the lived experience, which serves as a living history of the Church, carrying on that faith.

However, today, these Catholic communities are disappearing one by one. According to statistics from the Catholic Church in Korea, the number of Catholic communities decreased from 1,416 in 1993 to 989 in 2003, 791 in 2013, and finally to 702 in 2024.

The situation is particularly serious for Catholic communities in rural areas. Younger generations have migrated to the cities, and the remaining faithful are rapidly declining due to aging and death. Many Catholic communities are finding it difficult to sustain themselves. The social trend of depopulation in rural areas is accelerating the end of Catholic communities.

One of the last parishioners of a mission station that closed in 2025 after 70 years of history said, "There were still some parishioners when the parish was founded in 2023, but since then, as parishioners passed away one by one or became ill and were unable to attend, the number has dwindled to three or four." He added, "I tried to keep the parish alive, even if it was just me, but my health was too poor to sustain it any longer."

While it is difficult to reverse the massive decline in population, the Church continues its efforts to preserve parishes. Some dioceses continue to provide pastoral care for rural parishes by dispatching priests to these areas. Several parishes have also been revived through the collaboration of returning parishioners. There are also movements to preserve mission stations of significant ecclesiastical historical value and develop them into pilgrimage sites.

The memories of a Paris Foreign Missioner of the early Church in 19th-century Korean mission stations resonate with the confessions of those who maintain them today. The religious memory and community spirit preserved in these rural communities remain assets of the Church and warrant preservation.

One of the priests responsible for the mission stations in the diocese stated, "Although these rural communities and populations are declining, we must keep these stations alive." He continued, "Visiting mission stations reveals many heartwarming stories, and I discover that these stories of faith can be valuable assets for us." He emphasized the importance of these stations, saying, "It is important to reflect on the Church's memories and past history while finding a direction from the present to the future."

Penance in Preparation for Easter, from Ash Wednesday to Holy Thursday.

The most important thing to remember during Lent is the 40 days Jesus fasted in the desert after his baptism. During this time, Jesus was tempted by Satan but resisted all temptations. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "every year, through the 40-day season of Lent, we unite ourselves with the mystery of Jesus in the desert." A reporter for the Catholic Times offers some thoughts to keep in mind. 

The number "40" is undoubtedly the first thing we encounter during Lent. "Lent" (Quadragesima) literally means "forty."

Lent, the period from Ash Wednesday to the evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday, is a time of penance, atonement, and prayer in preparation for the Easter Triduum, commemorating the Passion and Resurrection of Christ. This season is called "40" because, in the Bible, the number "40" symbolizes the period of purification we must endure before encountering God.

When God, disappointed by the fall of humanity, brought Noah aboard the ark and wiped out all living creatures from the earth, it rained for 40 days and nights. Similarly, the Israelites, after their Exodus from Egypt, paid the price for their disobedience to God for 40 years. Thus, the number "40" symbolizes a time of purification.

The prophets also used the number "40" when addressing God. Moses fasted for 40 days on Mount Sinai when he received the Ten Commandments, and Elijah walked for 40 days and nights to Horeb, the mountain of God.

Of the 40 days mentioned in the Bible, the one most worthy of our Lent is the 40 days Jesus fasted in the wilderness after his baptism. During this time, Jesus was tempted by Satan, the high priest who "has been tempted in every way, just as we are, yet without sin" (Hebrews 4:15), and overcame the tempter in the wilderness, foreshadowing his victory through his Passion.

Therefore, the Church teaches that "each year, through the 40-day season of Lent, we unite ourselves with the mystery of Jesus in the wilderness." 

The 40-day Lent began to be established around the 4th century. During this period, believers practiced penance and asceticism through abstinence and fasting. However, the Lenten season observed by the Church today is strictly 44 days. This is because, around the 5th and 6th centuries, the four days between Ash Wednesday and the First Sunday of Lent were added.

This stemmed from believers' desire to fast for 40 days like Jesus. Since fasting on Sunday, the day of rejoicing in the Lord's resurrection, was not permitted, they sought to fast for six additional days during Lent. Adding Good Friday and Holy Saturday, the four additional days of fasting during the Easter Triduum, made for a total of 40 days of fasting before Easter.

Today, however, we face many changes that call for greater creativity in our penance. 

The Church regulations are not complicated. Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are obligatory days of fasting and abstinence for Catholics. In addition, Fridays during Lent are obligatory days of abstinence. 

Self-Care In Old Age

In the Diagnosis of the Times column of the Catholic Times, a sociology professor gives us her opinion on a serious issue in Korean Society.

In February 2024, the Constitutional Court ruled unconstitutional a provision in the Medical Service Act prohibiting the disclosure of a fetus's sex, thereby guaranteeing parents the right to know their unborn child's gender. The longstanding practice of prohibiting sex disclosure stemmed from a deep-rooted preference for sons. 

The tradition of relying on sons, particularly the eldest, for important family matters such as inheritance and ancestral rites naturally fostered a culture favoring male offspring. While daughters were viewed as ‘outsiders’ who became part of another family upon marriage, sons inherited property and assumed the role of caring for their parents in old age. In the Bible, the ‘birthright’ signifies a double portion of inheritance and spiritual authority.

However, it is now rare to find parents who keep having children until they have a son, or parents who rely solely on their children for their old age. According to the 2023 Survey on the Status of the Elderly, only 1 in 4 seniors aged 65 and older wished to live with their children. Even among those, they preferred “a child with suitable circumstances” (42.3%) or “a child they get along with” (24.9%) over the “eldest son” (19.0%). This indicates that the elderly themselves have let go of the expectation of relying on their eldest son or sons in their later years. In reality, over half of the elderly live only with their spouse, and one-third live alone. Furthermore, if the trend of the total fertility rate remains at just 0.7 to 0.8, the reality for future elderly generations will be even harsher.

Reflecting this situation, ‘self-care’ has recently emerged as a crucial topic. As life expectancy increases, the period of old age lengthens, and in an era where one must care for one's own later years rather than relying on children or family, self-care is essential. Self-care goes beyond simply looking after oneself; it signifies a lifestyle attitude that pursues health and well-being across all areas of life and actively manages illness when it occurs. In today's world, where nearly half of life is spent in old age, self-care is a personal capacity that neither children nor the state can substitute for.

Self-care can be broadly divided into four areas. First is ‘physical care,’ maintaining health through proper nutrition, regular exercise, and sufficient sleep. Second is ‘psychological and emotional care,’ which involves relieving inner tension and restoring emotional stability through sufficient rest and active leisure activities. Third is ‘relational care,’ which means building supportive relationships beyond family, within neighbors and communities, to avoid isolation and maintain social bonds.

Lastly, ‘spiritual self-care’ involves finding inner peace through prayer, meditation, self-reflection, and communion with nature, and practicing a life aligned with one's values and beliefs. It also includes rediscovering the purpose of life bestowed by God and cultivating a practical attitude of living in accordance with that conviction. Spiritual self-care is the most essential and crucial domain of care, not only for believers but for everyone.

In this era of centenarians, where over 2 million elderly live alone, we must prepare for a life of self-care and responsibility, no longer relying on children or others. The journey of self-care begins by acknowledging my own frailty and leaning on the mercy of God.

Literature and Spirituality

A famous novelist stated, "All European novelists are, in some way, descendants of Cervantes and Don Quixote. One of the earliest European novels holds a unique and unparalleled position. In particular, the exquisite friendship depicted between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza continues to shine brightly even after more than 400 years." With these words, a Jesuit professor of literature begins his column in the Catholic Times on Literature and Spirituality.

Throughout the 16th century, the poetics of friendship served as a crucial literary narrative structure across various genres. Spain, during this golden age politically and literarily, was simultaneously facing numerous crises, undergoing a period of transformation marked by commercialization, urbanization, and social upheaval. Cervantes sought to re-establish the foundations of this unstable society through the value of friendship.

Don Quixote and Sancho exhibit contrasting characteristics that seem unlikely to complement each other. Don Quixote views the world through the lens of chivalric literature and pursues ideals, yet he is a wandering knight consumed by delusions. Sancho, a simple peasant, displays a realistic and practical attitude. The contrasting personalities, values, worldviews, and social statuses of the two create both comical and serious conflicts. Whenever the realist Sancho questions his master's idealistic fantasies, repeated arguments ensue. Don Quixote becomes angry and criticizes his squire for his lack of faith.

The tension and conflict arising from their differences are not surprising; perhaps they are even inevitable. Looking back at history, conflicts within families, societies, or between nations have mostly stemmed from differences. This remains the case today. However, being different does not imply that someone is wrong. Rather, it is a fundamental principle of creation. God created various creatures on each of the six days. Basil of Caesarea, in his work "Homilies on the Six Days of Creation," stated that the diverse natural world is like "a book" in which we can read God's wisdom.

The unique purpose of creation, considered a second scripture, is not one of conflict and competition, chaos and relativism, or random events. It is a symbol that reveals the goodness and order of the Creator. They do not exist in isolation but achieve unity within the Creator's order. The differences between Don Quixote and Sancho, which caused conflict and disputes, ultimately lead to unity through the value of friendship on their journey.

Although they faced numerous disputes and conflicts during their adventures, they accepted and respected each other's perspectives. By overcoming barriers through honest dialogue, they achieved unity of heart.

In 16th-century Europe, nobles possessed moral authority simply because of their status, regardless of their character. Conversely, people from lower social classes, regardless of talent, lacked social standing. 

Don Quixote, a nobleman, and Sancho, a peasant, were bound by a relationship of command and obedience, yet Sancho often offered wise advice that contradicted his master's orders. Don Quixote, asserting his moral authority, disregarded Sancho's common-sense wisdom, leading to conflict. When Sancho used proverbs, Don Quixote rebuked him, saying, "Proverbs condense the wisdom of the ages, but you often force them into situations where they seem like foolishness rather than wisdom."

Interestingly, however, every time Don Quixote ignored Sancho's advice, both suffered social humiliation and physical punishment. As their adventures unfold and time passes, the hierarchical distinctions between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza gradually blur. Eventually, Don Quixote treats Sancho as an equal conversational partner and advisor. He even addresses him as “friend”, “son”, and even “friend and guide".

This opened the possibility for true friendship to transcend social class and status.

The early Church also sought to overcome differences among people on the basis of ethnicity, class, gender, and social status. Saint Gregory criticized the strife and division caused by inequalities between the rich and the poor, and between men and women, arguing that these originated after the fall from paradise. 

Saint Justin Martyr, in his First Apology, states that “we who formerly hated and harmed one another and refused to live with people of other races because of differing customs, now live intimately with one another since the coming of Christ,” emphasizing that Christianity broke down many of the barriers of racial and ethnic conflict.

In his letter to the Galatian church, which was experiencing conflict between Jews and Gentiles, the Apostle Paul writes that in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female” (3:28). He relativizes role distinctions, teaching fundamental equality.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable differences, what does it mean to be one in Christ? Saint Augustine, in his "Confessions," defined friendship as "one soul dwelling in two bodies." Despite their differences, they share the same values and become close friends. In the opening of Part Two, in the famous scene where Sancho insists to his master that a country girl is the enchanted Princess Dulcinea, we see a transformation: the servant now uses his imagination to create magic, so as not to shatter his master's idealized worldview of chivalry.

Furthermore, when Don Quixote, tricked by his family's schemes, returns to reality, losing his zest for life and 'dying', Sancho earnestly pleads with him to embark on another adventure. "Don't die, Master. The greatest folly a man can commit in this world is to let himself die without trying anything more." Sancho now prioritizes his master's idealistic vision over his own empirical reality, internalizing his master's values. In their journey toward friendship, Sancho gradually embraces idealism, becoming "Don Quixote-like," while Don Quixote gains a sense of reality, becoming "Sancho-like"; ultimately, the two are connected by the same spirit.

Initially, Sancho followed Don Quixote in hopes of material rewards, but the two came to care for and respect each other and, despite adversity, never abandoned one another, achieving a unity of spirit as equal friends. The most important element that allowed this process to continue and reach its destination was dialogue. Although their conversations often led to conflict—due to Sancho's clumsy proverbs, complaints, and blatant questioning of his master's delusions, and Don Quixote's absurd monologues and reprimands—their dialogue was honest and never ceased. As a result, they became true friends. 

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.