For Western Catholics who sometimes despair of keeping the faith in a
secularized world, or passing it on to their children, Fr. Paul Hwang
might offer a bit of perspective: Try it in North Korea sometime.
The country’s microscopically small Catholic population – estimated at 3,000 by the government, 800 by the local church – has no resident priest, no access to the sacraments, no possibility of overt catechesis or faith sharing, and can’t even engage in simple gestures such as the Sign of the Cross in public without fear of surveillance.
Hwang, a South Korean, said he is certain there is no Catholic Mass being celebrated anywhere in the North, in a nation of some 23 million people, even underground.
“The South Korean church would know if it were happening,” he said. “It would not be possible because of fear of the security forces.”
Hwang is the National Director of Caritas Corea, a Catholic
relief agency based in Seoul, South Korea, and part of Caritas
Internationalis, a Vatican-based confederation of 162 Catholic relief,
development, and social service organizations worldwide. In the last
four years, Hwang has been in and out of North Korea 10 times.
In the early twentieth century, North Korea was home to a small but flourishing Catholic community, with two territorial dioceses and a territorial abbacy entrusted to the Benedictine Order.
During the 1950-53 Korean War, however, the Catholic presence was all but snuffed out – every priest in the country was exiled, imprisoned or executed, and all Catholic institutions were seized by the state.
All 18 Benedictines in North Korea at the time of the war perished, either by immediate execution or from eventual death in a labor camp. Their abbey was taken over by the Communists, and is today a Faculty of Agriculture.
The last Bishop of Pyongyang, Francis Hong Yong-ho, is still listed in the Annuario Pontificio, the official Vatican yearbook, as “disappeared” since March 10, 1962. Since that time, the archbishop of Seoul, South Korea, has been designated the apostolic administrator of Pyongyang.
Today, Hwang described a situation that in some ways seems eerily reminiscent of the catacombs.
The only believers who have even a rudimentary sort of religious formation, he said, are North Korean Catholics who have crossed the Tumen River in the northeast of the country, into a Chinese border zone where family members from the two Koreas often reunite. There, Catholics from the south can pass on some basic religious instruction to family members from the north.
“Some were baptized in this way,” Hwang said.
Afterwards, Hwang said, the northern Catholics go home and practice the faith as best they can in private. They dare not engage in any public conversation about matters of faith or any religious practice, however, for fear of harassment from security forces.
While all religions are kept on a tight leash, restrictions sometimes fall on the Catholic Church in specially harsh fashion.
Monsignor Pietro Parolin, the Vatican’s Undersecretary for Relations with States, pointed out Oct. 19 that Catholics are the only Christian body in Pyongyang without their own minister appointed by that church’s authorities.
There is only one Catholic church in the capital city, called the “Changchung Church” after the neighborhood in which it’s located, where a Liturgy of the Word is offered on Sunday.
However, the church is administered by the “North Korean Catholic Association,” created by the Communist government in June 1988 as a means of control over Catholic life – much like the “Patriotic Association” which regulates Catholic affairs in China.
Also Read :
Witnesses Tell About Christianity In North Korea
https://cruxnow.com/church-in-asia/2019/02/01/witnesses-tell-about-christianity-in-north-korea/
The country’s microscopically small Catholic population – estimated at 3,000 by the government, 800 by the local church – has no resident priest, no access to the sacraments, no possibility of overt catechesis or faith sharing, and can’t even engage in simple gestures such as the Sign of the Cross in public without fear of surveillance.
Hwang, a South Korean, said he is certain there is no Catholic Mass being celebrated anywhere in the North, in a nation of some 23 million people, even underground.
“The South Korean church would know if it were happening,” he said. “It would not be possible because of fear of the security forces.”
In the early twentieth century, North Korea was home to a small but flourishing Catholic community, with two territorial dioceses and a territorial abbacy entrusted to the Benedictine Order.
During the 1950-53 Korean War, however, the Catholic presence was all but snuffed out – every priest in the country was exiled, imprisoned or executed, and all Catholic institutions were seized by the state.
All 18 Benedictines in North Korea at the time of the war perished, either by immediate execution or from eventual death in a labor camp. Their abbey was taken over by the Communists, and is today a Faculty of Agriculture.
The last Bishop of Pyongyang, Francis Hong Yong-ho, is still listed in the Annuario Pontificio, the official Vatican yearbook, as “disappeared” since March 10, 1962. Since that time, the archbishop of Seoul, South Korea, has been designated the apostolic administrator of Pyongyang.
Today, Hwang described a situation that in some ways seems eerily reminiscent of the catacombs.
The only believers who have even a rudimentary sort of religious formation, he said, are North Korean Catholics who have crossed the Tumen River in the northeast of the country, into a Chinese border zone where family members from the two Koreas often reunite. There, Catholics from the south can pass on some basic religious instruction to family members from the north.
“Some were baptized in this way,” Hwang said.
Afterwards, Hwang said, the northern Catholics go home and practice the faith as best they can in private. They dare not engage in any public conversation about matters of faith or any religious practice, however, for fear of harassment from security forces.
While all religions are kept on a tight leash, restrictions sometimes fall on the Catholic Church in specially harsh fashion.
Monsignor Pietro Parolin, the Vatican’s Undersecretary for Relations with States, pointed out Oct. 19 that Catholics are the only Christian body in Pyongyang without their own minister appointed by that church’s authorities.
There is only one Catholic church in the capital city, called the “Changchung Church” after the neighborhood in which it’s located, where a Liturgy of the Word is offered on Sunday.
However, the church is administered by the “North Korean Catholic Association,” created by the Communist government in June 1988 as a means of control over Catholic life – much like the “Patriotic Association” which regulates Catholic affairs in China.
Also Read :
Witnesses Tell About Christianity In North Korea
https://cruxnow.com/church-in-asia/2019/02/01/witnesses-tell-about-christianity-in-north-korea/
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