Condoms and Abortion in Korea

Dissent in the Korean Church is rare, and when it becomes public is not easily understood, possibly because the history of Catholicism reveals the importance it has placed oneness, in contrast to some of the other religious groups.

A Catholic priest, professor at the Catholic University and  executive secretary of The Committee for Life of the Seoul Diocese, writes in the Peace Weekly about the Church's position on the use of condoms. The secular press in Korea, and in the rest of the world, did not report correctly, he says, the viewpoint of the Pope in the recent controversy over the book Light of the World. 

He quotes from one of the dailies, which commented on the Pope's remarks, as indicating an oversensitive reaction of the Conservatives (contrary to the clarification of  the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith), and used the words of some leading Catholic progressives to refute this interpretation.                    

The Catholic Church is condemned for being too conservative and  on the side of  dogma and against life, an oppressive organization.This superficial view of the issue, he says, distorts the position of  the Church on life and on natural law.

The Catholic Church teaches that in the sexual act the partners give themselves to the other in true love and oneness, and if children are born of the union, they are responsible for the children.

The priest says that in Korea, in 2005, for married couples there were 198,000 abortions; for those unmarried 144.000 abortions. And over 95 percent, because of finances or social reasons, did not want children at all, clearly showing that the sexual act was performed without  responsibility for life or that the attempts at contraception failed.
The Institute of Obstetrics and Gynecology reports that using the condom precisely as directed results in a 3 percent failure rate, and a 14 percent failure rate in its ordinary use.

Does that mean the Church tells the couple to take the children as they come? The Church does not accept artificial birth control but when there is good reason to space the children, it recommends that the couple avoid the times of her  fertility with the natural birth control method. If the wife become pregnant then it is considered a  gift of God.

The article includes a section (#13) from the encyclical "The Gospel of Life," where Pope John Paul II says, "But despite their differences of nature and moral gravity, contraception and abortion are often closely connected, as fruits of the same tree.... Still, in very many other instances such practices are rooted in a hedonistic mentality unwilling to accept responsibility in matters of sexuality, and they imply a self-centered concept of freedom, which regards procreation as an obstacle to personal fulfillment. The life which could result from a sexual encounter thus becomes an enemy to be avoided at all costs, and abortion becomes the only possible decisive response to failed contraception."

This is an area that is counter cultural even in Korea. The Church has not been overly active in its anti-contraceptive  teaching in the way it speaks about  abortion. The teaching of the Church in this whole area of sexuality gives a beautiful ideal and  hopes the Catholics will make efforts to live by it for a fuller and happier married life. For many different reasons this ideal no longer attracts even some of  the sincere Korean Catholics.                                                                                                                                                                                         

Problems With Making a Musical in Korea

It was  written up in the Catholic papers, Catholics were invited and given discounted tickets, and after much fanfare and expectations, the musical, " Mission," when it  premiered in Korea, flopped, an extremely disappointing result because of the success attained by the movie version. The musical was produced in Italy and financed by Korean money, but something went wrong; the Korean company in charge of the production here will offer free tickets--tickets reissued for the first time because of complaints--to those who saw the musical during its premiere week and would like to see a revamped version.

The movie,"The Mission" tells the story of the Jesuit Reductions in Paraguay--communal mission villages, founded in the early 17th century and managed, independently of Spain, by Spanish Jesuit missionaries. The villages provided a haven for the indigenous Indian population, who prospered to such an extent that they came to be called "The Christian Indian State." All this changed in the mid-1700s, when Spain ceded the territory to the Portuguese, who had an on-going slave trade in the area, and soon turned many of the Indians in the Reductions into slaves. Because of political intrigue, human weakness, and deceptive information, the Jesuits were expelled and a remarkably successful solution to the hundreds of years of often savage colonial rule in South America, at least in Paraguay and parts of Brazil, came to an end.

Ennio Morricone was to be present at the first  showing but could not attend for health reasons. It featured three of his songs, adapted from the movie, and 20 new songs by his son Andrea. The production was expected to revitalize the market for musicals in Korea.

The Chosun Ilbo headlined its article on the musical, "The Mission Musical-Unfinished Mission." Ticket prices were expensive and the production shabby. The journalist who wrote the article saw it on New Year's Day and felt deceived. He looked for comments on the Internet and found that most of the opinions were  negative, with some disappointed theater-goers wanting their money back. He also wanted to register his disapproval of the production but the site was no longer operating, supposedly  because of squabbles among the religions.

The complaints did bring an acknowledgment that preparations were inept because of the stress of getting the musical ready for export. In an effort to do better next time, the company has decided to replace some of the actors, increase the members of the  chorus by 15, and work to improve the scenery.

The planning and investment money came from Korea, investing almost 11 million dollars in the production, which was assembled by an Italian company. The article mentions some of the problems with the production: the Italian singers had a poor grasp of  English, the acting, with two exceptions, was amateurish, and the production and the changing of scenery left much to be desired.

The world  premiere, for a musical that was to tour the world, was not only an artistic disappointment but also an embarrassment to Koreans, who expected a better showing for the first Korean attempt in a new field of endeavor.  How it will affect the reception of the musical in other world markets is hard to judge. It is sad that a musical, looked forward to with so much anticipation, and with such a good story to tell, failed so completely to be the triumph many expected.

Fr. Anselm Grun, Benedictine Monk And Spirituality

A journalist from the Catholic Times interviewed one of our best-known contemporary writers on spirituality. While traveling in Germany, the interviewer went to the Benedictine monastery  to talk with Anselm Grun, the Benedictine monk who has written over 250 books (more than 14 million copies in 30 languages) and who is appreciated both by those with faith and by those without faith.

The interviewer  tells us that he is considered a mystery man, even superhuman, in his own monastery. Besides managing a large monastery (280 employees and 20 businesses), he fulfills all his duties as a monk, writes, gives lectures throughout the world, and teaches.

Asked why he's so popular, he says people are not looking for a spirituality of virtuous living but a spirituality of practical living that leads to success in life; they are looking for a better way to live and getting to know themselves by reading his  books. He is trying to lead them from the spring that wells from within to an experience they're not allowing to  happen.

The Church is not the place where all our problems are solved but where God is experienced, dwelling in the silence of our hearts, where our inner scars are healed. When we have this experience, we are freed from all needless desires, as if returning to the warmth of our home.

Concerning depression and suicide, he says that depression often occurs when we entertain exorbitant expectations and exaggerated thoughts, feeling a need to be perfect,  having to succeed. Our souls, he says, resist this kind of thinking, causing tension and depression, yet another reason is the alienation  from our spiritual base.

The interviewer asks how he manages to accomplish so much. Benedictine spirituality, he replies, directs our contemplation to the truth in each one of us; God will then bring about the guidance, and the change that is necessary. It's not a spirituality with our heads in the sky but a spirituality with two feet on the ground, made up of ritual and our daily living. In his own life, he does not demand of himself what is unreasonable, but works from the spring supplied by the Holy Spirit, working rhythmically and healthfully.

To the question what does he want to say to the Church in Korea, he replies that, having made a number of trips to Korea, he has been favorably impressed. The Church, being young and filled with energy, shows great confidence in facing the future. He remembers the Christians he met here, their openness, their sincerity and deep spirituality. He prays that the Korean Church will always be conscious of God's blessing all around them, and prays that with the North they will continue to be blessed.

Making the New Year New

Writing in a bulletin for mission stations the writer comments on a passage that he rereads often. Jesus cures a blind man and tells him not go back to the village from which he came but to go home. What was it about the village that prompted Jesus to tell him not to return?  There is  much room for probing  the reasons for Jesus' orders. We have similar requests in scripture not to return the way one came and  to go  home another way.

In middle school, he remembers his beautiful cousin who turned the heads of many young men. The father  sent her to her husband's home far away from where they lived. The day  before the  marriage she took the middle school cousin  and went up the mountain behind the house with a bundle wrapped in cloth. In a  quiet cozy area, she undid her bundle removed notebooks, picture  albums, and piles of letters. She began very slowly to burn each piece. She never looked at him, and he turned his eyes away looking at the autumn sun shinning  in the distant river. The ashes the  wind did not  blow away, she buried very carefully in the earth.

There is a time for leave-taking: to leave what you have become accustomed to, the  comfortable, things you want to do, and those you love. The writer returned home over 20 years ago, to his Father's house. He has been getting rid of much of his old baggage, but he still hears the call of the sirens of  things he left behind. He has lost some of the happiness he once possessed, and is not as  faithful in doing  what he knows he should be doing. He knows keeping both village and God both in view are difficult.

With the beginning of the New Year, he wants help in doing  what his cousin did: 'burning'  the things that need to be left behind.

He remembers a foreign missionary,  still having difficulty with the language, tell his parishioners: " The worn out year has gone, and we have the new year. The year we have grown fond of has  callously left us. The gone year has gone, let us forget the old year along with the hatred, the scars and the things we made seem important. Let us make plans to be happy living in the new year. The new year is what is important.  Let us always stay awake and let us not tremble. Let us forget the old times. When you put your hand to the plow, and you continue to look behind, you could find yourself going to another village."                             

Reflections on the Death of a Friend

There are those who have many friends and those with few, those that are gregarious and those who are not. Writing for a diocesan bulletin one of the Catholics reflects on the death of one of his childhood friends. Although his friend was not healthy, he remembered joking with him recently, so when he received the news on his hand phone, while at work, he was shocked; he was too young to die.

AT the funeral parlor he was surprised to see so few there. Before the coffin, there was his 80-year old mother and the wife of his  younger brother. No one was entering or leaving, only a few childhood buddies drinking and talking together. Usually on such occasions, whether the relationship was comfortable or uncomfortable, there would be many paying their respects. He recalls that his friend did not like to mix with others, preferring to live by himself, drinking  by himself and, in death, not surprisingly, was also by himself--his death mourned by few.

The writer, accustomed to seeing many people at funeral homes and seeing so few on this occasion, got to thinking about his own funeral.  How many will be sad to hear of his death? The answer he feels will depend on how much  concern he had shown his neighbor.  Was he more interested in taking care of his own needs than in being concerned for others?

It wasn't that his friend did not love his neighbor or was unconcerned for others; only that he neglected to do what he should have been doing. Since the writer also feels he has not been very active in loving or serving his neighbor, he wonders how the  funeral parlor will look like at his death. But then reminds himself that death is the same for all, that we came into the world with nothing and will leave with nothing. At the funeral home, whether we have many or few coming with their condolences, what does that mean? he asks. What difference does it make to have many or few to pay their last respects?

The accepted process of handling death and dying has changed greatly in Korea in a short period of time. Many private funeral homes have been built, and most of the hospitals, and some churches, have mortuaries; waking in the home has mostly disappeared.

Being part of a community will help determine the numbers attending our wake and funeral. As our writer said, numbers are unimportant but since the writer is a member of a Church community, I'm sure those who read his article will remind him that the funeral parlor at his wake will be bustling with fellow Christians, singing the office of the dead,  eating, and remembering his life in the almost festive nature of our Korean Catholic wakes.


                                                                    

Is it True That Beauty Is Only Skin Deep?

A columnist in the Catholic Times discusses a popular new remedy, among the younger generation, for an old complaint . He was riding the bus on his way home and overheard the conversation of three high school girls. "For me it will be the nose," said one. "I also will have the nose done," said another. "I will have the double eye-lid done along with the  nose," said the third girl. They looked to be first-year high school students, said the columnist, and here they were talking about cosmetic surgery; that  they could treat such a topic with such naturalness surprised him. In their tone of voice, he heard no fear and no reservations on what was required, just concern for their outward appearance. He wondered if they had the same concern for their inner beauty.

The  desire we have to appear attractive to others is a basic instinct. We cannot  criticize the desire to make ourselves attractive to others. However, the columnist feels that many in our society have gone beyond what is reasonable and normal, adding to our vocabulary such terms as cosmetic-addict and cosmetic beauty. The importance we put on appearance has made the waiting rooms of cosmetic hospitals bustle with new customers.

This new emphasis on physical beauty can be attributed to the mass media, the 'beautiful people' seen in TV dramas and advertising, the thin bodies and beautiful faces in fashion magazines; even in books and animations, we have the prince charming and beautiful princess ideal--an unrealistic new look, the look of physical perfection, and it's taking hold of the young in our society.

A research team from Seoul Medical, in a survey of 1500 women college students, found that half would like to have cosmetic surgery; of that number 82 percent are planning to have surgery and 95 percent of those who have had surgery plan to have it done again.

The poet Khalil Gilbran says:

"And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy...  
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes
And a song you hear though you shut your ears."

The columnist reminds us that we are all beautiful, that we all have hidden beauty. Beauty, as we so often say, is in the eye of the beholder; it's something relative, something  not seen in the same place but is like a movable feast. For a Christian, he believes it's most often seen in acts of love and sacrifice. In Korea, it is often said of someone: more than a beautiful face, a beautiful heart. Physical  beauty changes with a change in time and place, with the changing cultural standards of a particular society; not so with internal beauty. 

That we have so many who do  not  see more than what is reflected in  a mirror is a reason for great sadness. What is needed is for all of us to become reflecting mirrors, seeing in others their internal beauty, and responding to that beauty so they can begin to see it for themselves.

Changing the Perception Towards Hansen Disease in Society

Written up recently in the Chosun Ilbo, Franciscan Fr. Yu  has been assisting and comforting those diagnosed with Hansen's disease for the last 31 years. He came to Korea in 1976 from Spain, a country not unlike Korea, both populations having experienced the horrors of war. Now 65-years old, he has made working with the survivors of this horrible disease his mission in life.

After Mass every morning, he makes the rounds of the patients. "Although I can't see and hear, I know it's the priest," says one grandmother, "he's the only one who warmly hugs us."

The facility of 200 patients, once a village with thatched, slate-roofed houses that made up the colony, shunned by society, is now a much different community thanks to Fr. Yu. He says that you can tell by their eyes that they desire to be loved. He serves not only as their chaplain but as the driver for the community; they feel uncomfortable using public transportation, he says, so he takes them where they want to go and does their errands for them. During this time, he has been at the bedside of over 500 who have died; he wants them to know they are not alone at the last moment. He has also prepared the bodies for burial, serving as their undertaker. He was proud of the Hwan Gap party they gave him on his  61st birthday. He considers them as family and hopes to be with them for his 70th and 80th, to give hugs.

The  disease can lead to disfigurement of the outer limbs and facial features. With the introduction in the early 1980s of multi-drug therapy (MDT), the disease has been successfully treated, and those afflicted are no longer carriers of the disease; confinement is no longer necessary.  But the facts of the case have not lessened the fears of many when they see the tell-tale marks of the disease.  Attempts have been made to give these unfairly treated citizens their human rights but ideas change very slowly.

Korea does a good job, however, in taking care of those who have the disease, which has been eradicated in Korea. But unfounded, fearful thinking is not easily eradicated. The word leprosy--named after the infecting bacterium (M. leprae) discovered by a Norwegian physician Gerhard Hansen--is not used now as often, which is a sign of  change. But problems still exist. When a person is known to have someone in the family who had the disease, it becomes difficult to speak about it and prospects of marriage are diminished.

 Fr. Yu is helping to change this thinking in the least confrontational and yet meaningful way possible: doing what many fear to do.