'Strangers in the Church'
Having received baptism at this year’s Easter Vigil Mass and having been officially registered for less than a year, my time with the Catholic Church has not been long. By good fortune, I received confirmation the day after my baptism, so I can be considered a fully adult member. Before coming to Catholicism, I was actively involved as a young Christian leader in a youth group at a church affiliated with another Protestant church in Korea. For certain reasons, I decided I needed to attend a Catholic parish and began catechism classes for prospective members starting last October.
Now, about seven months after becoming a Catholic, my affection for the mainstream Roman Catholic Church grows day by day; however, it is also true that I feel some regrets. Most of these regrets stem from the Church's attitude towards its youth. In the field of youth ministry in Korean churches, men in their 20s hold a peculiar presence. They participate briefly when liturgical service or physical support is needed for events, yet the pain they endure or the spiritual longing they carry rarely becomes a serious agenda for the community. In society, they face conflict, defined by the political and social framework of the “20-something men,” while paradoxically, within the church, they are often left behind.
The older generation often interprets the passive attitude or frequent indifference of men in their 20s as being “too busy chasing worldly pleasures” or “uninterested in inheriting a faith legacy.” However, this diagnosis fails to account for the existential circumstances they face.
The "military" experience for South Korean men is a time and space characterized by frequent crises. Exposed to a closed system and potential violence, living as "soldiers" during this period, young men experience a profound sense of powerlessness. They often feel anger at the hardships they face simply because they were "born as men in South Korea." Furthermore, the decline in self-esteem caused by failed college entrance exams and job placements, coupled with the resulting family discord, drives them into emotional isolation. As the world imposes meritocracy on them and even the church ignores their pain, young men become isolated islands, with nowhere to turn.
Is faith a help or a burden?
For men in their 20s facing life crises, faith can be both a help and a burden. At times, it can be a lifeline, but at other times, it can push them into a corner. This ambivalence in faith primarily stems from the conflict between "personal faith" and "institutional faith."
In interviews, young people confessed that they gained the strength to reinterpret and persevere through intimate religious practices like prayer and personal meditation. However, "institutional faith"—associated with parish communities, doctrine, and clergy—often burdened them rather than comforted them. Some young people feared censorship, fearing that their religious struggles would be perceived as "heresy" or "incorrect faith" as defined by the church. They also felt guilt, viewing the recurring obligations of attending Sunday Mass or participating in community activities as "tasks that must be done but are unwilling" rather than joyous.
Especially for young people who have been pressured into perfectionism at home or school or oppressed by a hierarchical structure, the church's strict social ethics and the imperative to "believe unconditionally" function as yet another form of oppression. When the church demands that those exhausted by the world's competitive struggle become "better believers," faith becomes not a resource for overcoming life's crises, but rather a source of "negative religious coping" that exacerbates them.
The Gap Between Expectations and Reality
The crucial reason young people turn their backs on the church is the persistent gap between their "expectations" for the church and the "reality" they face. They weren't looking for grand solutions to their life crises. They expected a "safe space" where they could hear and empathize with their anxieties, failures, and raw pain. They also hoped to meet others in similar situations and find empathy from those who had previously experienced similar situations but had now moved on.
But the church, rather than reaching out to them in their specific lives, is busy offering doctrinal solutions or spiritual advice like "you don't pray enough." The job insecurity, military absurdity, and disconnected relationships experienced by men in their 20s are often glossed over in vague terms or reduced to accusations like "young people lack faith." When young people share their concerns, they are met with admonitions rather than empathy, or when their weaknesses become the subject of gossip within the community, they ultimately remain silent.
They feel the church is unconcerned with their "existential suffering." They experience a deep sense of alienation due to the inertia of a system that demands only the functions of a "good young man" and a "good servant," while remaining insensitive to the inner battles they face as "human beings." Ultimately, this disconnect leads young people to perceive the church not as a "protective fence" but as a "condemning court."
Hope in Distance
Interestingly, many men in their 20s, despite having left or distanced themselves from the church, continue to identify as "Christians." Even though they may miss Sunday Mass and parish activities, they remain committed to their belief in God and their desire to follow the life of Jesus Christ. This does not mean they have abandoned their faith per se, but rather that they have temporarily suspended the rigid "system" that fails to communicate with them. While this does not necessarily equate to a truly engaged Christian life, it can be seen as a sign of hope that comes from leaving the church and maintaining a certain distance.
From the perspective of the established church, these individuals may be categorized as "indifferent parishioners" or "Canaanites" in need of correction. However, from the perspective of "receptive ecumenism," they are "pilgrims" actively reconstructing their faith. They are forging their own "living faith" through critical reflection rather than blind obedience, and through questioning the meaning of faith in the concrete realities of their lives rather than a routine religious life. Therefore, their departure from the system should not be viewed as a negative act that obscures their faith. Rather, it should be reinterpreted as a fierce struggle to encounter God anew in the wilderness outside the temple, a process of "deepening" their faith, embracing the complexities of modern society and the unique pain of the younger generation that the established church fails to address.
May a small light shine upon all young people walking in the wilderness.
Pope Francis emphasized that the Church must become a "field hospital" for the world as a "wounded healer." Through this study, I want to highlight how the Korean church is failing to serve as an appropriate field hospital for these patients: men in their 20s. They felt the church offered only flat answers, such as "pray and it will be resolved," to their complex life crises, or condemned their honest struggles as "lack of faith."
The church must now step down from its role as a "teacher" and shift to a "learner." We must remember that we all have a unique apostolic role. This attitude of "receptive ecumenism" should be applied not only to other denominations but also to the young people around us, creating a nonjudgmental space where we can listen to their struggles with job market insecurity, military trauma, and broken relationships, and embrace even their doubts and confusion as part of their faith journey. Young people do not seek grand solutions; they simply yearn for a safe space where they can reveal their contradictions and pain, where their existence is accepted without judgment. Only when the church becomes a friend who stays with them in their "wilderness" will young people finally return to the church and breathe again.
