Travel Letter . . .

THE LAND OF THE MORNING CALM

I am presently at the Religious Retreat Center in Seoul, Korea where I am the speaker for some 50 folk from Churches of Christ-Christian Churches from all over this republic. Most of them are American military personnel serving short assignments and eager to return to their homes in Tennessee and Texas. These annual retreats provide opportunity for fellowship between Christians who rarely get to be with each other, scattered as they are in camps and installations all over this country. Bert and Marg Ellis, missionaries among Christian Churches, are here from Pusan, 250 miles to the south, where they have labored sacrificially for 22 years. A young sister is here from one of the camps along the DMZ, 30 miles to the north, where she is an army photographer, and where north and south Koreans gaze threateningly at each other and preside over weaponry capable of destroying this nation that is known in history as “the land of the morning calm.”

The sister from the DMZ, who came alone by bus, explained that she has no Christians with whom to associate. I urged her to pray that the Spirit would lead her to make such contacts, that surely among all those thousands there are those with whom she could study and enjoy fellowship.

She seemed confused when I suggested that she not limit herself to Church of Christ people. Indeed, I fear I am spoiling an otherwise good retreat for a number of these folk, who are adamant in their conviction that the only Christians in Korea are those in the Church of Christ. That means that in this Buddhist-Confucianist land where only about 15% are “Christians,” only about one-hundredth of 1% of that 15% are really Christians. Those are in some 80 mostly small congregations that are hardly more than house churches. The Christian Churches have some 120 such churches, due largely to the efforts of missionary John Chase, who came here in the 1930’s. But these churches do not count with these transplanted Church of Christ folk from the American south. Despite their desperate need for each other, there is no fellowship between them. The Americans have taught the Korean brethren to be as exclusivistic as themselves. Some of them are together on this occasion, but this is because I encouraged it.

I elected to draw upon some of the great truths of Romans and had no intention of upsetting anyone, but my teaching on justification by faith, grace, salvation, baptism, nature of the church, the indwelling Spirit, the eventual conversion of the Jews, the redemption of nature, and Christian liberty has proved threatening to some. I have an “uncertain sound” about baptism and my view of the Church of Christ upon earth is far too broad. After reading an issue of this journal, one sister chose not to attend the sessions, explaining to me with rare candor that she did not want her views disturbed. Early in these sessions I concluded that I had blown it, spoiling a retreat for all these good people, for I had caused them discomfort. I have known all along, of course, that migration to another country does not necessarily make a sectarian less sectarian, but I was hardly prepared for such a concentration of our sectism at a retreat in this quaint little nation that the Chinese long ago described as “the land of the scholars.”

At one of our sessions a brother who is a naval officer, spoke out in protest when Lt. Cmdr. Weldon Bowling, formerly a part of our Denton church and my host, called on brother Ellis, the Christian Church missionary, to lead prayer, insisting that “one of our brotherhood” should do the praying. Weldon responded graciously to this gross rudeness by calling on one who belongs to the right church, and even brother Ellis understood, but I could hardly abide such discourtesy. While I refrained from public comment, I told the officer that his behavior was an insult to Christ, for he had rejected a brother for whom Christ died, that the brother had made a great sacrifice for many years and had crossed the country to enjoy fellowship with us. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” I told him in no uncertain terms. While I was terribly embarrassed, the episode being so contrary to what we were learning from Romans, my resentment toward the brother soon subsided and gave way to understanding. After all, I was once that sectarian myself!

The Father has a way of lining the clouds with silver, and He seemed to use this untoward incident to turn things around. This helped people to see what I had been teaching, that we receive each other as Christ receives us, even when we are wrong, “to the glory of God” (Rom. 15:8) rather than to the glory of a party. They now began to tell me that they understood what I was trying to say and even that I was a God-send. And poor Weldon felt redeemed when they told him it was the best retreat of all.

I am left more impressed than ever with the hazards involved in an assault on “the Church of Christ mind.” The only effective dynamics, I am persuaded, are truth and love --- “Speaking the truth in love” as Scripture puts it. When these folk gave me a hard time in the earlier sessions (“We are all upset by what you are implying”), I resolved to stand firmly for what I believe to be true, but with love. My love for them, I believe, was evident, and it was this that provided my entree with them. “But I like your attitude,” they would concede, even when they were otherwise suspicious. Truth in love. It must always be our charge. We may not have the truth in all that we say, but our search for truth must always be in love.

Our retreat was enhanced by the presence of a congregation of Koreans on two of the evenings. This was especially appreciated by those Americans who have had no opportunity to assemble with Korean brethren. The Korean brethren sing heartily and joyfully, and they are the best argument for acappella music that you will find. They sing the old gospel songs more than the great hymns, and they could sing all night, being the happy people that they are. They are gungho for bowing, especially the women to the men, an most especially those they deem worthy of greater respect. I have everything going for me, being an American, a reverend doctor, and aged! One is especially honored in this land once he reaches threescore, an idiom that my interpreter did not know.

I immersed three of the Koreans into Christ during the retreat, using a bathtub in a nearby home, which was possible only because these people are small of stature. This helped to redeem me with the Americans who presume I put down baptism when I stress “the circumcision of the heart” and for not saying categorically that it is essential. My approach was not what they were used to since I urged the folk to follow Jesus in baptism, noting that it was then that he received the Spirit, relating this to the promise of the Spirit in Acts 2:38 and the remission of sins. I argued that if Jesus was baptized when he had no sins, how much more should we be baptized, being sinners.

I seemed to have scored well with the Koreans, who invited me to their own church, which Americans seldom attend. They like for me to put on a drama and act it out, as I did the story of the prodigal son, assuming the various roles as I moved freely about the platform. Even my interpreter laughed with delight over my antics, and he enjoyed following me around in his Korean church on Sunday, interpreting my story of Jonah, which I included in an explanation of “the sign of Jonah,” which is the only sign Jesus would give an evil generation. The American influence upon the Korean service is complete, for the language was the only discernible difference, except that they serve the Supper (with traditional plural cups) in white gloves (what else for these impeccable people?) and pray vigorously and endlessly.

I have written this piece all the way to the cabin of my jumbo jet 747, and am now aboard a Korean Airlines flight nonstop Seoul to Los Angeles in 12 hours. I shall always treasure this experience in the only nation on earth that celebrates an “Alphabet Day,” in honor of the birth of its written language, which says something for its literary heritage. We celebrate Halloween and they the alphabet! Who is enlightened, after all?

The Koreans are an indomitable people. Seoul is an impressive city, the fifth largest in the world with its nearly 9 millions, and it is marked by towering edifices of steel and glass and wide, park-like boulevards, but as recently as the Korean War it was in ruins. When this airline recently lost a plane on the runway in Seoul, the captain, who could easily have escaped the fire, as most everyone did, opted to stay aboard and die rather than to live in disgrace. He was the captain and was responsible, as he saw it, even when it was not his fault. These folk have guts. When a Communist from North Korea was arrested as a spy, he forthwith bit off his tongue (by a severe uppercut to the chin), lest he be made to talk under torture. He was nonetheless summarily shot in this besieged land that cannot afford to hold any brief for Communism, dividing its people as it has.

We have 35,000 combat-ready troops along the DMZ, along with a large force of South Koreans. They confront an array of some 150,000 Communists. When everyone agrees that the U.S. troops must stay, that does not suggest that there is any lack of the will to fight on the part of the Koreans. But with Communist bombers only 7 minutes from Seoul, it is a hard way to live.

Brother Hyun Sub Park and his wife Ta Ja Lee (We compared notes on our wives’ names; when I left him he was still trying to negotiate Ouida, which is not all that unusual even for Americans) came to Kimpo Airport to see me off. He had talked with his elders and had brought an invitation for me to return for an extended visit with the Korean Churches of Christ. He was impressed with my emphasis upon the mission of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer. We need that! he assured me. He is also a chaplain to the Korean military and wants me to visit various bases when and if I return.

He meets with his congregation each morning at 4:30 for prayer, and he told me that they would be praying for me. It will be 1:30 p.m. in Denton when those humble folk gather for prayer, walking through the cold from their tiny houses (with gas at 5.00 a gallon hardly anyone has a car, though the preacher hopes for one), and I will be led now and again to turn from my typewriter and join those precious believers in prayer to Him who knows neither East nor West. But whether a.m. or p.m. those in Jesus in “the land of the morning calm” will be close to my heart. --- the Editor