Dignity of All Life

In the Window of the Ark column of the Catholic Times, a Catholic professor at the Graduate School of Life Sciences, Catholic University of Korea, gives us some words to ponder on the meaning of Life and Suffering.

Dr. Viktor Frankl, a world-renowned psychiatrist and survivor of Nazi concentration camps, says that death, suffering, and guilt are the three great tragedies that humans can never avoid. However, despite all of this, he emphasizes that humans can discover the meaning of their own lives and that pursuing this meaning is inherent to human nature.

Recently, however, the debate over physician-assisted suicide has been causing a stir in our society and raises, above all, the question of the meaning of life and the meaning of suffering. British journalist Katie Engelhart investigates in detail why people choose assisted suicide in her book "The Inevitable". Various reasons are presented, including the limitations of modern medicine, aging, and physical and mental suffering. But the final reason presented is 'freedom'. People believe that their lives are dignified and meaningful when they can freely choose their own life and death.

Viktor Frankl also emphasized human freedom. However, Frankl's concept of freedom was not the freedom to end a painful life. Even in the horrific Nazi concentration camps, he tried to find meaning in his life and always remembered human dignity. And he survived. Although the dreadful suffering of the concentration camps was unavoidable, he did not lose the fact that his life held meaning even within that suffering.

Conversely, when people believe that their freedom is realized through assisted suicide, neither the unchanging value of life nor the meaning of life can exist. When life itself is considered meaningless, suffering becomes something that must be avoided at all costs, and a painful life becomes something to end as quickly as possible.

Christianity does not teach that suffering is valuable in itself. Suffering serves as a warning light that helps us avoid harmful things. Because we tend to avoid suffering, we can maintain our physical and mental health. The development of medicine has also been directed toward freeing humans from much suffering. However, Pope John Paul II states in paragraph 23 of the encyclical "Evangelium Vitae" the following: “Suffering, which is an unavoidable burden of human existence and at the same time a necessary element for personal growth, is 'deleted' and rejected as unnecessary, and in practice is always opposed as an evil to be avoided.” Suffering is not only a warning light that protects our life and health, but also an element necessary for the growth of each of our personalities. In fact, the human growth process is a continuous series of sufferings, because human life is a journey of constantly solving problems. Becoming an adult means enduring the suffering of taking on responsibilities. Conversely, as Carl Jung mentioned, “Neurosis is the result of avoiding the suffering that one should rightly experience.”

What about the suffering at the end of life? None of us can avoid suffering at the end of life. However, it is our choice to decide our attitude toward that suffering. Accepting the suffering at the end of life simultaneously means rejecting acts such as euthanasia or assisted suicide. In other words, it testifies that human life possesses an inviolable value even amid illness and suffering. And such an attitude is not unrelated to hope for life after death. “Beyond all human consolation, no one can overlook the great help that faith in God and hope for eternal life give to the dying and their families.” The suffering at the end of life may perhaps be like the labor pains for being born into a new life.

AMEN: The Hebrew Word

Is it necessary to say "Amen" at the end of a prayer? A reporter for the Catholic Times provides the reader with some information on the Hebrew word "Amen". 

"Confession of Faith" Not an Obligation... The Final Period that Completes Prayer

We often end our prayers with "Amen." If we don't say "Amen" at the end of a prayer, it feels as if the prayer isn't finished. Why is "Amen" so often used?

"Amen" has many uses. Let's first examine the "Amen" we often say at the end of prayers. The Hebrew word "Amen" comes from the same root as the word "believe," and carries the meaning of "steadfastness, reliability, and sincerity." It's used to express the certainty and validity of something, often meaning "so be it". 

Amen appears frequently in the Bible. In the Old Testament, it primarily confirms the tasks assigned to humanity according to God's will, expresses personal conviction about God's judgment, praises God, and appears at the end of the Psalms.

The New Testament also frequently uses "Amen" at the end of prayers and praises. Epistles often reveal that prayers ended with "Amen." The Apostle Paul also criticized the misuse of spiritual language, saying, "How can a novice respond to your prayer of thanksgiving by saying, 'Amen,' if he doesn't understand what you're saying?" (1 Corinthians 14:16). This passage shows that even in the early church, just as we do today, when the church community gathered together to pray, they said "Amen" as an answer to prayer.

"Amen" is a word Jesus used frequently. You might wonder, "Did Jesus ever say "Amen?" The original text of the phrase "Truly I say to you" translated as "Truly" says "Amen." He uses it so often in the Gospel of Matthew that it appears 30 times, in the Gospel of Mark 13 times, in the Gospel of Luke 6 times, and in the Gospel of John 25 times.

"Amen" particularly expresses trust and faith in God. In the Gospel of John, Jesus uses it twice, saying, "Truly, truly (Amen, amen)" (Amen, amen). This emphasizes the authority of Jesus' teachings, grounded in the truth of God. The prophet Isaiah also refers to God as "the God of Amen." In the Korean Bible, it is translated as "the faithful God" (Isaiah 65:16).

Above all, the Church teaches that “Jesus Christ himself is the Amen” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1065). The Apostle Paul says, “For in him all the promises of God are ‘Yes,’ and through him we say ‘Amen,’ to the glory of God” (2 Corinthians 1:20). Jesus is the definitive Amen to God’s love for us. As the Amen, Jesus receives and completes our ‘Amen’ to God.

There is no rule that says ‘Amen’ at the end of a prayer. However, there is no word that concludes a prayer as beautifully as ‘Amen’.

Life After Death

People often think of purgatory in terms of time and space. What kind of life will we Christians face after we leave this world and die? A Scripture scholar in the Inchon Diocese offers readers of the Catholic Times an understanding of life after death.

We confess in the Apostles' Creed, "I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." Many ask, "How can a dead body be resurrected? What will the resurrected person be like? What is the so-called purgatory like?" Some, as if believing in reincarnation, wish to be born a little differently in the next life.

In Christian teaching, there is no such thing as a return to this world. Either eternal happiness (salvation) or darkness follows. The Apostle Paul gives a clear answer: "For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive" (1 Corinthians 15:22).

It may be impossible to describe in detail the appearance of a person who has been resurrected in secular language. Nevertheless, I believe that searching for the image of a "resurrected person" in the Bible holds great significance.

The following passages in the New Testament most clearly explain death and resurrection: “So also is the resurrection of the dead. What is sown perishable will be raised imperishable; what is sown in dishonor will be raised in glory.” (1 Corinthians 15:42-43)

The apostle goes on to describe the state of the dead in more detail: “What is sown a material body will be raised a spiritual body. For if there is a material body, there is also a spiritual body.” (1 Corinthians 15:44) The apostle continues, “And just as we have borne the image of the man of dust (the first human), we shall also bear the image of the one who is heavenly.” (1 Corinthians 15:49)

Now we can consider three dimensions of creation: creation from nothing (creatio ex nihilo), ongoing creation (creatio continua), and new creation (creatio nova), as described in Genesis 1-2. Continuous creation refers to the Lord, who created the world from nothing and continually breathes life into it. The new creation refers to the realm of mystery from death to resurrection.

The Apostle Paul contrasts the resurrected (newly created) body, the heavenly mystery that the children of the Lord will attain and enjoy, with the earthly body. He emphasizes that just as there are pitiful bodies, bound by the cycle of birth, aging, and illness, there are also spiritual and glorious bodies that belong to the heavenly mystery. “There are celestial bodies and earthly bodies” (1 Corinthians 15:40).

John, the author of the Book of Revelation, clearly describes the glorious state of the redeemed saints in heaven: “In the city will be the throne of God and of the Lamb… they will see his face, and his name will be written on their foreheads” (Revelation 22:3-4). “When he appears, we too will see him as he is” (1 John 3:2).

Trying to Understanding Faith with Reason: Theology

A pastor, in a recent article in the Catholic Times, reminded readers that theology is the study of God that originates in revelation.

 As an academic discipline, theology is the study of believers who use reason to better understand what has already been accepted by faith. Simply put, theology is the ‘understanding of faith (Intellectus fidei)’ through academic methods. Human beings, even when accepting revelation as a mystery through faith, always possess an intellectual curiosity to know its content. Thus, while believing, they also strive to grasp it more accurately and fully through the power of the intellect.

This very intellectual inquiry is called theology. Therefore, to understand the faith we hold more precisely, we need to rationalize it—that is, to engage in theology. Theology is faith exercised by the thinking mind.

When a historian without faith academically addresses the facts of Christian revelation, they cannot transcend the dimensions of religious studies or history. This is because encountering the essential content of revelation is impossible without faith as a prerequisite. Revelatory events belong to a higher dimension than natural religious phenomena, and faith is essential to perceive them correctly. Faith, so to speak, elevates the dimension of cognition to the supernatural, making true theology possible.

Saint Anselm's “I believe in order to understand (credo ut intelligam)” expresses precisely this truth. Without faith, one cannot comprehend the highest, the supernatural. We humans attain greater knowledge through faith. That is, we attain the beatific vision of God. That happiness exists within suffering, that spirit exists within matter, that eternity exists within history and time, that God exists within the world—these things cannot be known by our eyes or reason alone.

It is through faith that we come to know that happiness exists within suffering, that God exists within the world. Ultimately, it is through faith that we can perceive the supernatural.

Saint Anselm states, “Faith seeks understanding (Fides querens intellectum)”. Theology is faith seeking understanding—faith striving to comprehend its object. Ultimately, theology is the scholarly understanding of faith.

Without faith, the theologian cannot develop theology. Therefore, theology is not merely a doctrine about God, but an act of faith, by faith, and for faith. Faith is not only the starting point of theology, but its center and its goal. Theology is born within faith, grows within faith, and is perfected within faith. Reading theological works born of faith greatly helps nurture our own faith. Though challenging, the pastor  encourages us to read at least one theological book per year.

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. 

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.

Digesting the Word

A Faith That "Digests" the Word was an article in the Catholic Times by a professor emeritus in the Sunday Reflection Column.

These days, we sometimes find ourselves searching for "spiritual hotspots" even within our faith. We travel to attend lectures that explain the Word well, and we listen to recordings and videos, receiving deep inspiration. These are undoubtedly moments of grace. Our hearts are warmed, and we feel a renewal of faith. I, too, cherish such experiences.

However, at some point, a question lingers in my mind: Am I only listening to the Word, or am I living it? I may have been moved, but it's hard to say whether that Word is actually changing my daily choices and attitudes.

The Word is similar to food. No matter how good the food is, if you don't chew and swallow, it won't be absorbed into your body. Words heard only with the ears and forgotten provide only temporary satisfaction. They won't remain within us for long because it hasn't been properly digested. 

So, what does it mean to digest the Word? It means taking the time to reflect on the Word. Keeping a sentence heard during Mass or a sermon in your heart and recalling it throughout the day.

"What does this Word demand of me today?", "What would the Lord do in this situation?" When these questions are repeated, the Word begins to slowly break down within us. Words whose meaning wasn't initially clear reveal a new face as they encounter the scenes of our lives. At that moment, the Word of God becomes not just knowledge, but a standard.

Jesus' parables were not given to be understood all at once. Rather, the more we ponder them, the more they touch our hearts, and the more we live, the more different meanings they reveal. That's how the Word of God is digested.

When the Word is digested and absorbed, transformation occurs. The Word begins to take root beyond our emotions and judgments. It stops us when we are angry and points us to a different path when we feel wronged.

"Forgive seventy times seven times."

This saying is easy to understand, but difficult to live.  However, when the Word begins to permeate us, we make slightly different choices than before. Instead of an immediate reaction, we pause, and instead of a firm judgment, we leave room for possibility.

The absorbed Word changes the tone of our speech, the direction of our relationships, and the rhythm of our day. At some point, we realize the Word is no longer just sentences in a book, but an inner compass guiding our lives.

Just as a blockage in the body leads to illness, so too does a failure to let go in faith lead to spiritual sickness. If we hear the Word, are moved by it, and understand it, but all of that ends with us, then our faith easily remains self-satisfied. It can become hardened into a mere personal spiritual experience.

The release in faith is the practice of love towards our neighbors. Small acts of attention, small acts of consideration, and small acts of sharing are enough. Swallowing a harsh word, extending a helping hand one more time—these are actions that may go unnoticed, but have results in God's time.

Jesus clearly said: "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40)

Faith flows and circulates without obstruction when it doesn't remain merely in hearing the Word, but is digested and becomes a part of life, and then flows out again as love. From a faith that listens well to the Word, to a faith that lives according to the Word. Perhaps the "delicious meal" we should be seeking today is not in a lecture hall, but in our daily lives. 

Why Theology?

A diocesan priest in the Catholic Peace Weekly gives readers some thoughts on entering the world of theology and the possible results. 

Without Jesus' words, life, death, and resurrection, there is no Christian theology. God did not reveal Himself through dreams or visions, but fully revealed Himself in history, in a concrete, flesh-and-blood human being: Jesus of Nazareth. Therefore, theology is grounded in God's historical self-revelation, decisively revealed in Jesus of Nazareth.

Moses did not encounter God through contemplation; he encountered God while living his life, while tending sheep. Jesus' disciples did not encounter God through contemplation; they did not encounter God while sitting in meditation. They encountered God while living their lives, while fishing on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, while responding to Jesus' call and following him.

The disciples experienced Jesus, who died on the cross and rose again after three days, within concrete time and space, and encountered God. Theology seeks to know the God whom Moses encountered, the God whom Jesus' disciples encountered. It seeks to speak of that God.

Yet that God is invisible. Nevertheless, theology seeks to know the invisible God, the God who transcends human reason. It seeks to comprehend. It seeks to understand the unknowable God. Herein lies both contradiction and breakthrough. For while God is invisible to the eyes of reason, God is visible to the eyes of faith.

Ultimately, theology is not blind, but faith born of understanding. Understanding fosters greater faith. A more certain faith is born. Believing without knowing leads to blindness, but believing with knowledge brings certainty, greater obedience, and the ability to advance with even greater faith.

Ultimately, theology is about seeking to know God. It is about seeking to know this faith that has accepted God. Therefore, theology operates on an epistemological horizon. Believing with proper knowledge gained through theology is different from believing without such knowledge.

Those who believe without knowing, when trials and suffering come in life, abandon their faith, saying, 'This isn't the God I believed in. But those who know and properly believe in faith through theology gain greater faith during times of suffering and trial and mature more profoundly.

Since we have entered the world of knowledge, the world of theology, knowing properly leads to believing properly. This is precisely why we study theology. Through theology, we come to know the experience of God as it is expressed by the Apostles, the Church Fathers, the saints, the clergy and religious, and the people of God. Through this knowledge, we walk the path of true faith. Faith grows when we know and believe.

Overcoming Distortions in our World

In his armchair column in the Catholic Times, the philosophy professor reflects on how philosophical counseling helps us transcend the self-imposed boundaries of thought that confine, limit, and can distort our understanding of the world.

The expansion of thought is closely related to existential philosophy, as it pursues true "selfhood". According to existential philosophy, the true meaning of a human being is revealed not in "essence" but in "existence". Unlike essence, human existence can only be attained through free and responsible self-determination at every moment. 

So, what exactly do we aim to transcend through the transcendence technique? It is the fixed ideas, concepts, and ideologies that constitute the boundaries of our thinking when we encounter limiting situations, and the attitudes, patterns, and strong forces that emerge from them, which strive to maintain the self. 

These elements determine our lives, cause tension, and create problems. In reality, a person's thought system is like a "vessel" accumulated over many years of life. This is specifically shaped by factors such as culture, personality, psychology, and education, forming our unique world. 

However, problems arise when the framework of thought that has sustained us no longer functions effectively. This not only causes tension and bewilderment but also pain and suffering. While we may try to resolve this tension and pain by carefully examining the situation or communicating through dialogue, we often encounter insurmountable limitations. At this point, the only path available to us for problem-solving is self-transcendence, which involves moving beyond the boundaries of thought—the dimension of spiritual inquiry.

Just as Jaspers connects true existence to an unconditioned, transcendent being in existential philosophy, the technique of transcendence is based on the experience of self-transcendence through an encounter with that being.

Humans are creative beings who embody freedom and are constantly transcending themselves. The technique of transcendence, rather than relying on the laws of cause and effect in the unconscious or removing external obstacles to solve problems, instead seeks—as the Stoic philosophers did long ago—an "inner freedom" that is not bound by limitations.

Of course, crossing these boundaries is by no means easy. It requires considerable philosophical insight, patience, and courage, and especially the help of a counselor. 

The boundaries of thought are the mental dwelling place of our lives, so crossing that threshold is a challenge and a source of fear, a journey into the unknown. Transcending the boundaries of thought is inevitably accompanied by the pain of breaking out of the framework that has protected us until now, much like a bird breaking out of its egg. Without breaking out of this framework, we cannot embrace a new world. In Hermann Hesse's novel "Demian", Sinclair, with Demian's help, finally breaks free from his limitations and enters a new world. The relationship between the searcher and the counselor in philosophical counseling is similar.

Using Solar Power in Parishes

Solar power is a relatively accessible energy source for private individuals compared to other renewable energy sources. The Catholic Peace Weekly has an article about the growing number of churches achieving energy independence through solar power.

One parish in a Korean Diocese has one self-consumption solar power plant and two commercial solar power plants installed. The two commercial solar power plants can produce over 79 kilowatts of electricity. Last year, the parish's annual electricity consumption was 34,000 kilowatt-hours. The electricity produced by the two commercial solar power plants alone was 88,000 kilowatt-hours, far exceeding the parish's annual electricity consumption. The surplus electricity from the parish is sold to Korea Electric Power Corporation and flows back into the regional power grid.

There is a growing trend of using empty spaces to build solar power plants to generate and consume electricity. In one Korean diocese, more than 30 churches have installed solar power plants. The head of the Social Evangelization Committee said, "We thought this would be a way to address the problems caused by high-voltage transmission towers by demonstrating to the local community that we are using the electricity we produce ourselves."

Behind the active movement in the diocese is the "Sunlight Power Cooperative," established in 2019. Three years after the cooperative was established, the  Diocese officially declared "carbon neutrality by 2040," expanding the energy transition as a task for the entire diocese. 

"Now, the number of priests who want to install solar power plants in their parishes is increasing, and if we combine all the parishes that have requested it, there are at least 10 parishes applying (currently), and if we calculate that in kilowatts, it's over 1,000 kilowatts."

The number of cooperative members is also increasing each year, reaching over 2,600 as of the end of last year, with capital contributions totaling 4.1 billion won. Members also received dividends of around 3% last year.

The Seoul Archdiocese is relatively slow in installing solar power plants. This is due to significant physical constraints, such as land availability, inherent in Seoul's geographical characteristics.

The Chairman of the Seoul Archdiocese's Ecology and Environment Committee stated that they are considering installing solar power plants near Seoul to supplement the archdiocese's electricity consumption with renewable energy produced there. They got the idea from the agricultural-type solar power plant created by the Vatican near Rome.

"The Seoul Archdiocese is also considering installing solar power plants in other regions of Korea under the name of the Seoul Archdiocese, and if renewable energy is produced through solar power there, we think it might be possible to supplement the electricity used by the Seoul Archdiocese with that."

The movement for energy self-reliance within the church is starting from the parishes.