Friday, Jul. 27, 2007

*Korean Missionaries Under Fire*

By Jennifer Veale/Seoul
Time Magazine

With the fate of 22 South Korean hostages in Afghanistan still
uncertain, the hostage crisis is finally forcing South Korea's
Christians, the world's second largest group of proselytizers after
Americans, to re-think their evangelical ambitions.

Since the start of the hostage crisis last week, when 23 Korean
Christian volunteers were captured by Taliban insurgents on a road south
of Kabul, the Seoul government has had to ask Korean bloggers to back
off from online attacks on the hostages. Critics were particularly
incensed by photos posted of some of the young women missionaries posing
in front of an Afghanistan travel advisory sign at Seoul's Incheon
International Airport. Family members of the missionaries — as well as
members of the Sammeul Community Church south of Seoul, which sent the
mission — also issued public apologies for causing the country so much
grief.

The execution earlier this week of one hostage, pastor Bae Hyung Kyu,
42, brought the expected outpouring of grief and condolences. But
non-evangelical Koreans are still scratching their heads over why the
Saemmul church group trotted off to such a volatile region, thumbing its
nose at government warnings not to enter Afghanistan.

Devout Christians here readily admit the mission was poorly organized,
but they insist that it had an admirable purpose. They argue that the
group was only doing what it is supposed to do: help others, as Jesus
directed them to do. The missionaries wanted to deliver aid and simply
didn't care if they were in harm's way.

This is not the first time Korea's Christians have found themselves in
strife. In 2004, a Korean interpreter and aspiring Christian missionary
was taken hostage and beheaded by militants in Iraq. Seven other
missionaries have been kidnapped but later released in that country.
Afghanistan also deported more than 1,000 Korean Christians, including
children, for gathering at a peace festival there last summer.

Many of Korea's Christians are passionate evangelists, exhibiting the
zeal of the newly converted. Evangelical Protestantism is a relatively
recent arrival on the peninsula, having taken hold only after the Korean
War. Now, fully one-third of the 45 million people in this traditionally
Confucian society follow the practices of Jesus (about 10% are Roman
Catholic). An estimated 16,000 Korean Christians were working around the
world as missionaries in more than 150 countries last year. Most Korean
missionaries work in China, and go there under the guise of researchers,
or businessmen, so they won't be imprisoned for proselytizing. Russia is
apparently the next most popular destination for Korean missionaries,
followed by Europe and South East Asia.

An unfortunate side to the evangelical movement in Korea is increased
competition. Churches number in the tens of thousands here, and are
competing so intensely for members that pastors feel pressured to engage
in a kind of one-upmanship: sending congregants on as many overseas
missions as possible. New markets and riskier missions tend to garner
more publicity, which until now has translated into more kudos and
ultimately more money for the pastor and the church.

Will the hostage crisis put a damper on Korea's missionary zeal? Some
say the crisis will certainly reduce the desire of would-be missionaries
to go abroad, particularly since Seoul has been unable to secure the
release of the hostages thus far. The widespread public criticism also
may force Korea's spirited Christians to recalibrate their strategies.
"It will definitely lead to a purge at churches" on the peninsula, says
Douglas Shin, a pastor involved in missionary activities with North
Koreans. "People will wonder if it is worth the risk now, and donors
will probably withhold more funds because they fear they could be
causing someone harm." Though Shin believes the Afghanistan mission was
sincere, he expects that what he calls "camcorder missions" —
assignments that are more or less photo ops for groups looking money for
supporters — to wane in the near future.