LEARNING EXPERIENCES OF NORTH KOREAN DEFECTORS IN LIGHT OF
CULTURAL FRAMES OF REFERENCE, SOCIAL POSITIONING, AND
IDENTITY CONSTRUCTION IN THE CONTEXT OF THEOLOGICAL
EDUCATION IN SOUTH KOREA
by
Eun Hee Yoo
B.A., Chongshin University, 1998
M.A., Chongshin University 2000
M. Div., Westminster Theological Seminary, 2004
A DISSERTATION
Submitted to the faculty in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
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May 2012
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iii
ABSTRACT
Since the mid-1990s, there has been an unprecedented wave of North
Korean defectors to South Korea. This study is particularly concerned with a group of
North Korean defectors in South Korea who are acquiring theological education in South
Korea. Eighteen North Korean defector theological students and graduates (hereinafter “consultants”) were selected and interviewed. The purpose of this research was to gain an in-depth understanding of the learning experiences of these consultants in the context of South Korean theological education. Bodies of literature that this study analyzed included transformative learning, situated learning, social positioning, postmodern identity with narrative identity construction, and social capital. This interpretive qualitative study adopted the naturalistic inquiry postures.
The research concern was three-fold: (1) to examine ways in which the
consultants’ cultural frames of reference and life experiences prior to coming to theological education affected their learning experiences in South Korea; (2) to understand how the consultants’ unique social location affected their learning experiences and how it involved positioning and negotiation and construction of identities; and (3) to discover the implications of their experiences as a means for preparing for the theological education that will be established in North Korea.
Four major categories were identified as salient cultural frames of reference
and prior experiences that affected their learning: (1) Juche ideology; (2) Confucian, collectivistic, and large-power distance cultural traits; (3) encounter with Christianity and mission homes in China, and (4) socialist education in North Korea.
The consultants’ experience of prejudice and discrimination indicated that
being a North Korean defector at this particular time in South Korea bears certain stigmas or stereotypes. This hindered their learning through various modes of participation in communities of practice at Korean churches. The consultants engaged in positioning and identity construction by contesting negative stereotypes, locating their stories in Christian narratives, and emphasizing the unique social purpose as critical content of their collective identity. Consultants’ stories reflected normative and identity formation of what kind of pastors they were becoming.
Envisioning future theological education in North Korea, findings revealed
that theological education in North Korea should be qualitatively different from that in South Korea, ranging from admission standards, curriculum, the teaching and learning process, and school models to its ethos to develop pastors who can address and manage the unique issues that arise from the particular context of North Korea.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments......................................................................................................... ix
Chapter
1. RESEARCH PROBLEM .................................................................................. 1
Research Concern ......................................................................................... 3 Significance of the Study .............................................................................. 8
Statement of the Problem .............................................................................. 10
Research Questions ....................................................................................... 11
Definitions..................................................................................................... 11
Assumptions .................................................................................................. 14
Delimitation .................................................................................................. 15
Limitations .................................................................................................... 15
2. PRECEDENT LITERATURE .......................................................................... 17
Social, Cultural, Historical Context ............................................................. 18
Cultural Themes ............................................................................................ 25
Transformative Learning .............................................................................. 41
Situated Learning and Communities of Practice .......................................... 53
Negotiation and Construction of Identity and Positioning ........................... 72
3. RESEARCH PROCEDURE ............................................................................. 99
Research Questions ....................................................................................... 99
Research Methodology and Design .............................................................. 100
Research Design............................................................................................ 104 Overview of Research Procedures ................................................................ 105
Population ..................................................................................................... 106
Sample........................................................................................................... 107
Research Setting............................................................................................ 110
Semi-Structured In-Depth Interviews ........................................................... 114
Focus Group Interviews ................................................................................ 117
Data Analysis ................................................................................................ 119
4. THE PAST: CULTURAL FRAMES OF REFERENCE.................................. 122
Cultural frames of Reference and Prior Experiences .................................... 122
Juche Ideology as a Religious and Worldview System ................................ 123 Cultural Themes of Confucian-Socialism ..................................................... 140
Educational Experience in North Korea ....................................................... 156
Experience of Christianity in China and in South Korea .............................. 180
5. THE PRESENT: POSITIONING AND IDENTITY CONSTRUCTION ........ 199
Social Location and Learning ....................................................................... 200
Positioning: Negotiation and Contestation ................................................... 227 Identity Construction and Learning .............................................................. 238
6. THE FUTURE: ENVISIONING ...................................................................... 254
Theological Education Matters and Needs to be Different ........................... 254
General Concerns for Improvement.............................................................. 256
Contextually Appropriate Theological Education ........................................ 265 Socialization into Denominational Differences and
Difficulty in Cooperation .......................................................................... 288
7. CONCLUSIONS AND IMPLICATIONS ........................................................ 306
Summary of Findings .................................................................................... 307
Educational Implications .............................................................................. 317
Suggestions for Further Research ................................................................. 349 Conclusion .................................................................................................... 351
Appendix
1. DEMOGRAPHIC QUESTIONNAIRE ............................................................ 354
2. INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEW PROTOCOL ..................................................... 355
3. FOCUS GROUP INTERVIEW PROTOCOL .................................................. 357
4. INFORMED CONSENT FORM ...................................................................... 359
5. TABLE: CONSULTANTS AFFILIATION WITH SCHOOL A AND B ....... 360
REFERENCE LIST ...................................................................................................... 361
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The openness and thoughtful insights of the North Korean defector
theological students and graduates made this study possible. They generously shared their experiences, feelings, and perspectives. I am sincerely grateful for their trust, courage, and heart after God’s own heart that demonstrated to me during this research.
I am grateful to my professors at Trinity: to Dr. Duane Elmer who was
gracious and helped me to take my study seriously, to Dr. Perry Downs who have trusted and encouraged me all the way through, to Dr. Linda Cannell who inspired me to be bold and creative by modeling such a teacher and consultant, to Dr. Peter Cha who made me excited to see the value of studying social science for God’s church, to Dr. Ted Ward who is a great story-teller and modeled the art of teaching in a wonderful way. To Dr. Miriam Charter, I am very grateful for her prayers and spiritual attentiveness for students. I appreciated her insights, and perseverance with me in the ups and downs. Yet most of all I have been inspired by her heart for post-communist countries, persecuted churches, and the development of next generation leaders. In addition, there are indeed many other professors I met at Trinity, Westminster, and Chongshin and pastors to whom I owe much gratitude.
God has put many awesome friends in my academic and spiritual journey
which could have been lonely and dry without them. They have comforted, accompanied, lifted, embraced, and even fed me so that when I fell down, I always had someone who raised me up. Thank you, Connie, Patricia, Sharon, Haewon, Seble, Hee-Kyeong, Junghyun,
ix
x
Hayoung, Youngju, Grace Kang, Grace Yoon, Ying, Sungjin and Haejin, Minhee, Hyunsuk, Antioch church members, and many of you whose heart has rejoiced and cried with me. I am very sorry for not being able to name all of them. It is not that their influence and grace on me is weighed less than those whose names I mentioned.
My dear family… I am grateful to my father who truly has become my friend,
mentor and prayer and financial supporter. It is a blessing to have a father whom I love and respect more and more as time goes by. I am grateful to my mother for her unconditional trust which many times I did not deserve. I am very grateful for her love, sacrifice, and stories that she read to make me laugh. I also would like to acknowledge my precious sister and how grateful I am for every aspect of her being my older sister.
Ten years of my journey in the States has been about God’s grace, provision,
mercy, and forgiveness. All the praise, honor, and glory are due to Him. While writing this dissertation, God put in my heart the songs of God’s people in history, which I offer for North Korea to the Sovereign Lord to whom nations are like a drop in the bucket. Lord, may you restore the fortunes of North Koreans, just as you restored the fortunes of Jacob! Let there be a day when all the scattered defectors in China, Cambodia, and all foreign lands may hear that you have remembered and visited their fatherland. They will forever be called Naomi and not Mara. Lord, let their mouths be filled with laughter and tongues with songs of joy. Lord, may all the nations see the marvelous work that you have done and praise, “The Lord has done great things for them!”
CHAPTER I
RESEARCH PROBLEM
This study is about a particular group of people among those who left North Korea since the mid-1990s and are currently living in South Korea. During the mid- and late 1990s a series of droughts and famines swept through North Korea and the country’s economic situation deteriorated. As a result, a few million people died of starvation.
Since then, the number of people crossing the border to find food in China has increased. Social control and the social-economic systems of the regime have collapsed to a great extent. More and more people are gradually being exposed to information about the outside world, including the freedom and wealth of China and South Korea. Some have learned the political lies of the North Korean regime.
Prior to this, the endurance and resilience of the North Korean regime had
been remarkable. It survived the collapse of the Soviet Union and of communism in Eastern European countries, the fall of the Berlin wall, China’s market reforms, and the death of its idolized leader Kim Il Sung (Demick 2010, 296; H. Park 2002). Meanwhile, inside the hermit kingdom, the North Korean regime had developed its own style of socialism, Juche ideology, myths, and sociocultural structures that reinforced the political propaganda. It chose a very different path from South Korea, which adopted democracy and capitalism.
1
The statistics below show that the number of North Korean defectors who
have arrived and settled in South Korea has reached over 20,000 (www.unikorea.go.kr).
Year ~89 ~93 ~98 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11.4 Sum
M 562 32 235 563 506 469 626 423 509 570 612 666 578 242 6,593
F 45 2 71 480 632 812 1268 960 1509 1974 2197 2261 1798 589 14,598
Total 607 34 306 1043 1138 1281 1894 1383 2018 2544 2809 2927 2376 831 21,191
The continuing growth in the number of North Korean defectors who come to South Korea every year has demanded that the South Korean government develop policies to assist with their adjustment and at the same time prepare for the reunification of North Korea and South Korea or for a massive flow of defectors in the event of the sudden collapse of the North Korean regime.
North Korean defectors in South Korea are considered to be a strategically
important group of people both to those who aspire to prepare for unification of Korea and to those who prepare for missions to North Korea. Those who have taken a careful look into the process of reunification in Germany presume that unification of North Koreans and South Koreans will be more difficult than was the unification of East Germans and West Germans. The hostility and trauma that the Korean War left on the people may add more struggles to bringing about unity of the people, in addition to issues of otherness and differences induced by living in different sociopolitical, cultural, and economic contexts for more than sixty years (Lim 2009).
For that reason, many assume that understanding North Korean defectors
may shed light on a deeper understanding of North Koreans, to whom few have access for empirical studies. There has been burgeoning research conducted with North Korean defectors. Moreover, the importance of ministering to North Korean defectors and developing North Korean defector leaders has been recognized. Korean churches’ learning how to live together and serve current North Korean defectors effectively by growing in understanding of, sharing sentiments with, and healing and empowering them are seen as critical for future ministry among North Koreans in their homeland. Nevertheless, studies still indicate that North Korean defectors are becoming a marginalized class in the Korean society and that the ministry of Korean churches among them has not been very fruitful.
Research Concern
The phenomenon in which this study is particularly interested is that a small
group of people among these North Korean defectors in South Korea are acquiring theological education in South Korea and preparing to be or have become pastors and Christian leaders. They have been educated in atheistic Marxism and communism and brainwashed with anti-religious education, especially education hostile to Christianity, and Kimilsungism. Their life experiences and the sociocultural context in which they grew up differ from those of South Koreans. Furthermore, the goal of education, the curriculum structure, the teaching and learning process, and the culture of the educational context in North Korea differ from those of the South Korean educational context. This raises questions. How do North Korean defector theological students and graduates describe and make sense of getting theological education in South Korea? How do differences in sociocultural, political, and educational context, personal background, and life experiences prior to coming to South Korea influence their learning experience in South Korea?
More specifically, this study focuses on the learning experience of North Korean defector theological students and graduates in the context of theological education that includes churches, theological schools, and, indirectly, South Korean society. The concern of the research is to examine how their cultural frames of reference, experiences in the past, and current social positioning affect their learning experiences of theological education, and how their learning to become pastors or Christian leaders involves negotiation and construction of identities. Furthermore, this study is concerned with how their learning experiences shed light on envisioning theological education appropriate for North Koreans in the future.
One of the characteristics of adult learners is the richness of life experience,
prior knowledge, and background that they bring to the educational context (Jackson and Caffarella 1994; Merriam et al. 2007). Their prior experiences are not only resources to integrate with new learning experiences and to enrich mutual learning experiences; they also signify adult learners’ needs to reflect and make sense of such experiences. This implies that an essential part of adult learning is examination and transformation of the values, beliefs, perspectives, and actions that were shaped by their prior experiences (Caffarella and Barnett 1994, 31). Merriam and her colleagues assert that “appreciating and taking into consideration the prior knowledge and experience of learners has become a basic assumption of our practice as educators of adults” (2007, 27).
In this study, the term “prior experiences” of learners is used
comprehensively. It refers to personal life events, biographical history, knowledge, educational background, and work experience. It also includes frames of reference, beliefs, values, cognitive and learning styles, attitudes, and behavioral patterns, all of which are shaped by cultural background, socioeconomic status, ideology, and other factors of the learners’ larger context.
When it comes to the relationship between culture and learning, educational
settings are culturally dynamic contexts. Learners and teachers carry their own culture and culturally-shaped minds and practices into classroom and school. George and Louise Spindler (1994, xii) argue:
Teachers carry into the classroom their personal cultural background. They perceive students, all of whom are cultural agents, with inevitable prejudice and preconception. Students likewise come to school with personal cultural backgrounds that influence their perceptions of teachers, other students, and the school itself. Together students and teachers construct, mostly without being conscious of doing it, an environment of meanings enacted in individual and group behaviors, of conflict and accommodation, rejection and acceptance, alienation and withdrawal.
Three important points that are implicit in this quote need to be made here, with regard to the complexity of learning in relation to culture, power or positioning, and identity. First, whether people consciously recognize it or not, culture shapes not only the way people perceive, think, believe, and behave, but also the way their minds process information, the way they teach and learn, and the way they set expectations about their own educational experiences and make meaning of the actual experiences (Gay 2000, 9; Mezirow 2000;
Nisbett et al. 2008). Learning is seen as a “sociocultural process” (Pai 1990, 3). It is
more than an individual cognitive processing of information that happens independently from learning contexts and social interactions. Rather, learning is a “socially situated activity” (Lave 1991, 65) and mediated by “tools,” “signs and symbols,” and “social interaction”, as in Vygotskian sociocultural constructivism (Panofsky 2003, 411).
The second point concerns power dynamics in an educational process. Since learning is embedded in social contexts and interactions, Panofsky stresses the fact that “the dynamics of power, position, and social location” are critical in learning (2003, 411). According to Li, a multicultural or a bicultural educational context with immigrants is a site of contestation and negotiation in that “teaching and learning in such contexts is a complex, multifaceted process in which different agencies, practices, values, viewpoints, understandings, and ideologies came into play (2006, 230). Differences involve difference in power, which does not simply exist in micro-level interactions between a teacher and students, but is derived from cultural and socioeconomic discrepancies between communities—between a community to which teachers belong and a community of particular students’ origin, or between the cultural and symbolic capital of a dominant group and that of a minority group to which some students belong. Stereotypes, prejudice, and positioning are operating in the educational context. This issue is relevant because human, cultural, and economic capital of recent North Korean defectors in their unique social location is little recognized by the contemporary South Korean society.
The third point concerns identity in learning. Lave and Wenger believe that
learning ultimately involves “becoming a different person,” which implies identity construction (1991, 53). Sfard and Prusak (2005) and Gee (2001, 99) emphasize that identity is a key concept or “an analytic tool for educational research” that can bridge a gap between learning and culture. How do learners negotiate their cultural differences and positions in the midst of the process? How do they construct and reconstruct their identity, which is integral to learning? These are important questions to ponder.
It is fair to say that the theological education context is, as an educational
context, also a complex, contested, and dynamic site. Beginning with theology, theological concerns and ways of doing theology are concerned both with universals that are applicable to all peoples and all contexts, and particulars that are more appropriate to a specific people and a specific sociocultural and historical context. Moreover, in terms of formation, the culture and environment of theological schools and classrooms are varied since they embody their own spiritual and denominational traditions and educational philosophies. In addition, they reflect the dominant culture of the society in their educational process and practices. The different cultures of learners, teachers, and others who are involved in theological education intersect and have a formative impact on students. The dynamics of power and positioning and social structures are at work in social interactions that take place in the theological education context as well. This is more the case when it is recognized that the theological educational context in which students’ learning takes place is not limited to theological educational institutes but also includes churches and the society at large. Formation of identity is as critical as formation of knowledge and skills in theological education.
Significance of the Study
In spite of the growing literature that explores cultural differences between South Koreans and North Korean defectors, little is known about the nature or depth of the perceived differences. Many questions remain to be unpacked. For instance, in what ways have North Korean defectors’ cultural backgrounds and life experiences shaped their frames of reference or habits of mind, and how are they embodied and expressed as points of view, preferences, values, and behavioral patterns in a specific context? Can there be so-called North Korean or North Korean defectors’ ways of thinking? To what extent do their cognitive styles, epistemic beliefs, or learning style preferences differ from South Koreans’? If there are differences, to what extent do such differences trigger cognitiveemotional dissonance or disequilibrium in the South Korean educational context? These were the questions behind the design of this study. This study then posed the question: To what extent and in what ways do North Korean defectors’ cultural frames of reference influence their learning as they, with their culturally shaped minds, engage in the curriculum contents and the teaching and learning process, interact with peers and professors, and immerse themselves in the classroom cultures and school cultures in South
Korean theological schools?
Theological education and Christian education have not paid sufficient
attention to the dynamics of power and social positioning in social interactions that take place in educational settings. Any education, including the education that takes place in theological schools, is, to some degree, inevitably a sociocultural process. Brookfield challenges the failure to reflect on such a critical dimension of education: “Cultural, psychological, and political complexities of learning and the ways in which power complicates all human relationships (including those between students and teachers) mean that teaching can never be innocent” (1995, 1). Panofsky asserts that the mediation of “the dynamics of power, position, social location in the social interaction of learning” is an area that “largely remains unpacked” (2003, 411). This study seeks to understand the dynamics of power and positioning that influence learning in theological education contexts by understanding North Korean defectors’ learning experiences.
Theological education has implications for the personal growth of students in
terms of spiritual formation and developing the Christian worldviews through which students make sense of and interpret life experiences and the world. It also has implications for the health of the church by developing qualified leaders. Such learning is better facilitated when the teaching and learning process and learning contexts are responsive and sensitive to the consultants’ social positioning, as well as their prior experiences and cultures.
Moreover, the importance of this study resides in its attempt to highlight
identity formation not only as an integral aspect of learning but as a critical core of theological education. It is also of great value to listen to how North Korean defectors narratively negotiate and reconstruct their identity as part of their learning experience.
At the same time, this is an exploratory study with an eye on the future. One
of the purposes of this study was to take a necessary primary step and identify areas for further study that would lay foundations both for developing theological education appropriate to present-day North Korean defectors in South Korea, and for envisioning theological education appropriate to North Koreans in their homeland in the future.
Finally, this research sought to fill a gap formed by the paucity of empirical
studies in theological education. Cannell pointed out that theological education has a twofold nature: one aspect is theology and the other is education, though these are not separable in practice or in the assumptions of theological educators (2005, 36). This study provides an educational theoretical framework to understand theological education in a more comprehensive sense and also to anticipate insights for renovation and innovation in theological education for South Korean theological schools.
Statement of the Problem
The study’s intent was to understand the learning experience of North Korean
defector theological students and graduates in the nexus of the theological education context, including churches, theological schools, and, indirectly, South Korean society at large. The research concern is threefold. First, it was to examine ways in which their cultural frames of reference and past life experiences affect their learning experience. Second, the research was concerned with how, if any, their current unique social location influences their learning experience and how it involves positioning and negotiation and reconstruction of identities. Finally, this study inquired into implications of their learning experience for the theological education more appropriate to North Koreans in the future.
Research Questions
1. In what ways and to what extent do North Korean defector theological students and graduates describe their learning experiences in light of their cultural frames of reference and previous experiences?
2. In what ways and to what extent do North Korean defector theological students and graduates describe their learning experience in light of their unique social location within and across theological educational contexts in South Korea, and how does this involve their negotiation of social positioning and construction of identities?
3. In what ways and to what extent do the outcomes of critical reflection of North Korean defectors on their learning experiences in theological education in South Korea shed light on theological education that is appropriate to present day North Korean defectors in South Korea and potentially for North Koreans in their homeland in the future?
Definitions
Consultants: This study calls North Korean defector theological students and
graduates who participated in this research consultants. By doing so, we acknowledge that they are not mere subjects of the study and that their role is critical to helping us better understand the phenomenon into which we sought to inquire and to construct meaning of their experiences.
Culture: This term has been defined by many, but for the current research
concern Gay’s definition is considered to be helpful. Culture refers to “a dynamic system of social values, cognitive codes, behavioral standards, worldviews and beliefs used to give order and meaning to our own lives as well as the lives of others” (2010, 9).
Frame of Reference: A “structure of assumptions and expectations” that shape
and limit one’s perception, cognition, feelings, and dispositions (Mezirow 2000, 16).
Cultural Frame of Reference: “The correct or ideal way to behave within a
culture—attitudes, beliefs, preferences, and practices considered appropriate for members of the culture” (Greenfield and Cocking 1994, 375)
Critical Incidents: “Vivid happenings that for some reason people remember
as being significant” (Brookfield 1995, 114).
Critical Incident Questions (questionnaire or technique): Questions that help
people focus on specific and concrete descriptions of what was happening in the critical incident and reflect on their assumptions and the assumptions of others that led them to feel and react the way they did. Critical incident questions are utilized for various purposes and in different settings, including ideology critique to reveal inequality or oppression, critical reflection on assumptions, and professional development (Brookfield 1995, 1987).
Power Distance: “The extent to which the less powerful members of
institutions and organizations within a country expect and accept that power is distributed unequally” (Hofstede and Hofstede 2005, 402). A hierarchical, authoritarian society is likely to belong to a high- or large-power-distance culture.
Positioning: “A way in which people dynamically produce and explain the
everyday behavior of themselves and others” (Langenhove and Harre 1999, 17) through “the assignment of fluid ‘parts’ or ‘roles’ to speakers in the discursive construction of personal stories that make a person’s actions intelligible and relatively determinate as social acts” (1999, 29). Positioning theory, as with recent identity theories, focuses on explaining people’s action. In relation to the term social location, which refers to one’s place in society and is often associated with gender, race, and class, the idea of positionality seems to be a more dynamic concept. One’s positionality is restrained but not defined in terms of those fixed identity categories. It is a person’s location “within shifting networks of relationships” (Takacs 2002, 169). It is likely that positioning has to do with the agent’s sense of social location mediated through and embodied in social interactions and his or her ongoing negotiation.
Identity: The notion of identity that this study employed was based on Anzaldua’s statement that “we are a cluster of stories that we tell about ourselves and others tell about us” (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 231). This means more than stories represent who we are. Scholars are convinced that stories have an ontological dimension in which, through our own narrative construction, we enact or construct and perform our identities in relationships (Sfard and Prusak 2005; Somers 1994).
In addition, this study adopted postmodern emphases on discourse and fluidity
of identity as it explored narrative identity construction of North Korean defector theological students and graduates in South Korea in a particular time and place. Gee defines identity as “being recognized as a certain kind of person in a given context” (2001, 99). Instead of attempting to discover a core identity that is stable and remains the same at all times and in any circumstance, the postmodern notion of identity brings back historicity or particularity of time and space and weaving socio-cultural context, social structure, and human agency into the identity discourse (Somers 1994). The importance of one’s sense of identity remains the same as one perceives the world, makes sense of events, and defines one’s way of being or acting in the world.
Assumptions
Several assumptions were made in this study:
First, understanding North Korean defector theological students’ and
graduates’ learning experiences of theological education in South Korean is an important concern due to their different cultural background, unique life experiences, and unique social location in South Korean society.
Second, there is a possible danger in depending on North Korean defectors’
retrospective descriptions. While there is a possibility of potential distortion in their memories of North Korean society and reconstruction of their life experience there, it is also natural that people constantly reconstruct their past as they look back and tell stories (Jung 2005, 86). Likewise, North Korean defectors have constructed and reconstructed their pasts as they left North Korea, migrated to foreign countries, and now are living in South Korea. In spite of the possible risk, this study assumed that consultants’ own accounts and perspectives would, nevertheless, provide valuable insights into the research concern, and also into understanding North Koreans who are currently inaccessible for research.
Third, consultants would be open and share their learning experiences with a
South Korean researcher.
Fourth, consultants and researcher are co-constructors of knowledge and new
understandings.
Fifth, an interview between researcher and consultant, just like other
conversations, is a discursive space where meaning, positioning and identities are negotiated.
Sixth, learning in theological education settings is a sociocultural process.
Seventh, learners’ prior experiences play an important role in learning in
adulthood.
Eighth, North Korean defectors’ immersion experience in South Korea, based
on transformative learning theory, may have triggered an awareness of cultural difference and caused them to reflect on their own cultural baggage in contrast to South Koreans.
Ninth, in terms of methodology, critical incident questions developed by Brookfield are useful tools in helping North Korean defectors to reflect critically on tacit dimensions of cultural frames of reference and dynamics of power and positioning in the contexts of theological education in South Korea.
Delimitations
The study is delimited to recent North Korean defectors who left North Korea in the 1990s and currently live in South Korea. Among North Korean defectors, the scope of the study is further delimited to theological students and graduates from accredited theological schools in South Korea.
Limitations
This research has limited generalizability because of the nature of qualitative
study with a small number of the people in a particular group—that is, theological students and graduates among North Korean defectors in South Korean theological schools. The findings regarding consultants’ learning experiences and findings from this study may be applicable with caution to those who share similar experiences or are placed within similar educational contexts.
CHAPTER 2
PRECEDENT LITERATURE
This chapter discusses and weaves together several bodies of precedent
literature that contribute to an understanding of the phenomenon being considered in this study and the theories that have shaped the research concern. First, a brief recent history of Korea, the sociocultural and political context of North Korea, and relevant empirical studies on North Korean defectors in South Korea will be discussed. These pieces of literature situate the topic of this dissertation in its context. The second body of literature that constitutes a theoretical framework for this study is focused on transformative learning theory. Experiences that the majority of consultants had in common, such as cross-cultural experience, trauma, religious conversion, calling, and reentry into education were considered as possible triggers that could facilitate critical reflection on the “taken-for-granted frame of reference” they had assimilated from North Korea, and therefore effect perspective transformation. The third body of literature discussed here concerns situated learning theory, which understands learning as something that takes place through participation in a community of practice. When compared to theories that consider learning as an isolated individual activity or decontextualized knowledge transfer, situated learning theory provides the complementary framework for a more comprehensive understanding of learning. Finally, picking up the themes of identity and micro-political interactions in the community of practice from the situated learning perspective, this section engages theories of positioning,
17
social capital, and postmodern notions of performative and narrative identity in relation to learning.
Social, Cultural, Historical Context of the Research Concern
It has been a common assumption of both North Koreans and South Koreans
that Koreans are one of the most racially, ethnically, and linguistically homogenous peoples in the world. They trace their lineage from Tangun, a mythical figure known as the founder of Old Chosun, the first Korean nation, in the third millennium B.C. (Oh and Hassig 2000, 3; Cummings 2005). If homogeneity and commonality have been presupposed, why then would North Korean defectors’ learning experience in South Korea be a distinct concern, especially in light of their cultural frame of reference, social positioning and identity construction? The following broad description of the historical and socio-cultural background of North Korea situates this concern in context.
A Recent Historical Background of North Korea
Due to the limitations of this study, the following account deals only briefly
with the recent historical background of North Korea.
In 1945, soon after the Japanese defeat in the Pacific War, Korea was
liberated from Japanese colonial rule (Kim 2005, 39). In spite of the joy of liberation and the hope of rebuilding an independent nation, those who had politically defected to China, Russia, and the United States began to form political factions and compete with each other for power as they returned to Korea (Oh and Hassig 2000, 6; Shin 2006, 79). The Cold War and the political factions based on different ideologies resulted in the division of the Korean peninsula along the Thirty-Eighth Parallel, a division that remains today. The northern half of Korea was placed under Soviet military control, and the southern half was placed under American troops (Oh and Hassig 2000, 6; Kim 2005, 39). The official name of the northern part of Korea became the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK) in 1948, and the southern part became the Republic of Korea (ROK) (Lee 2001, 1). The two adopted different ideologies and systems: the north became a communist socialist country, and the south became a democratic capitalist country.
While Syngman Rhee, the first president, and the leaders of South Korea
struggled to consolidate their political power, Kim Il Sung succeeded in gaining control of North Korea, centered around Pyongyang. It is said that Kim Il Sung was one of the leaders of anti-Japanese guerrilla warriors in Russia before Korea was liberated (Shin 2006, 85).
He gained political power through his political strategy, and obtained support from the Soviet
Union and from his loyal group of colleagues who had fought together against the Japanese (Oh and Hassig 2000, 6). One of the political programs implemented in North Korea was land reform, in which the North Korean government distributed land to people who had been poor peasants during Japanese rule. By doing this, Kim Il Sung and his party breached the power of the landowning class and gained wide support among the peasants. At the same time, by granting private ownership to the peasants this reform resulted in enhanced farm productivity during the period of preparation for the war (Lee 2001, 2; Armstrong 2003, 75).
By 1950, Kim Il Sung was ready to extend his rule over the southern part of Korea, and was planning to march south to unify the entire Korean peninsula under a communist regime.
The Korean War broke out in the name of “fatherland liberation” by North
Korea. The North Korean regime rationalized their military attack as liberating South Korea from American imperial-capitalists and the “oppressive foreign-dominated government” (Oh and Hassig 2000, 6). However, the North Korean regime’s attempt at reunification failed, in spite of the help provided by troops from China. Troops from the United Nations and the United States helped South Korea continue as a non-communist country. The war ended in 1953, leaving great scars on the land and people. More than a million people—soldiers and civilians—died as a result of the conflict; much of the infrastructure of both countries was ruined; enmity and distrust were created between North Koreans and South Koreans.
After the war, Kim Il Sung became the sole leader of the North Korean regime. He purged high-ranking party officials who favored Russia and China. By concentrating on heavy industry utilizing natural resources in North Korea, he successfully achieved economic development faster than South Korea did (Oh and Hassig 2000, 8; Lee 2001, 2). North Korea continued to be better off than South Korea until the 1960s, and it appeared that the regime’s utopian vision was being realized. Eventually, however, the economic condition of the North Korean regime began to deteriorate due to the unbalanced development of military industry, changes in international political situations and subsequent economic and political isolation, and the corrupt dictatorship of Kim Jong Il, son of Kim Il Sung. In spite
of the Soviet Union’s collapse and China’s transition to an open market policy, North Korea survived but became more isolated politically as it lost economic support. In addition, a series of famines and floods in the 1990s resulted in an unprecedented breakdown of social systems, massive starvation, and a movement of economic refugees from North Korea.
Juche Ideology
The Juche idea is the only official ideology and is established as a “monolithic
system of thought” in North Korea. It is at the core of all the North Korean regime’s policies. Juche is a word that is transliterated according to its Korean pronunciation in English, and it means “self-reliance” or “self-support” (Park 2002, 17; Belke 1999, xiii). It has become not only a political ideology, but a philosophy-religion practiced by the whole nation. The Juche idea claims that a human being is “responsible for one’s own destiny,” and teaches that the people are the masters of their lives and the moving forces of the revolution and socialist construction (J. Kim 1984; Yasunobu et al. 1975). As an application of the Juche idea, the North Korean regime promotes self-reliance in politics, self-defense in national defense, and self-sufficiency in economics.
Juche ideology was based on the principles of Marxism-Leninism, but it has
evolved into an indigenous North Korean form of socialism. Paul French states that Juche ideology was “developed as an indigenous revolutionary doctrine fusing the basic tenets of Marxism-Leninism with elements of Maoism and Confucianism and traditional Korean systems” (2007, 31). It has developed in response to the historical events of world affairs and the sociocultural context of North Korea, and has become an indispensable ground for the legitimacy and survival of the regime. Scholars trace the evolution of the Juche idea from a branch of Marxism-Leninism, through an original supreme communist ideology and “socialism of our own style,” to a religious worldview and an institutionalized cult of personality (H. Park 2002; Shin 2006; Lim 2010).
At the center of Juche, North Korea’s indigenous form of paternalistic
socialism, is a theory of a sociopolitical organism developed by Kim Jong Il (Becker 2006, 71). The leader (“Suryong”), the Party, and the masses constitute one socio-political organization, and they share their fate. The Suryong (the leader) is the “impeccable brain of the living body [the masses],” the Workers’ Party is the nerve, the masses form the living body, and they constitute one living organism (Belke 1998, 22; Lee 2001, 8). This emphasizes the country’s single ideology and united leadership. More importantly, this development of the Juche idea provides the ground for the sacrifice of the people for the collective body and the demand for “unquestionable loyalty” and submission to the instructions of the regime leader (H. Park 2002, 36; Belke 1998, 25-31).
Four Myths (North Korean Worldview Themes)
One of the studies that identified Juche-related worldview themes of North
Korea was Hwa Yong Han’s study on four myths (1995) from the stories told by North Korean defectors. According to Hiebert, the word “myth” is a technical term for the big stories that people believe to be true about the ultimate reality (2008). Hiebert states that myths provide paradigms, which help the people understand their cosmology, human history, and personal history (2008 ). In other words, myths are the big stories that help them understand the past and the future by revealing to them the fundamental “plot” or “fundamental themes” of their reality" (Hiebert 2008). Han identified four myths that are believed by North Koreans: (1) the myth of national foundation about Kim Il Sung, the heroic birth and legacy; (2) the myth of the Korean War, which teaches that the war was ignited by the South Korean government, incited by American imperialism; (3) the myth of earthly paradise, which is the portrait of the present and future North Korea; and (4) the myth of unification as a logical conclusion of the previous myths—that is, liberating suffering brothers and sisters in South Korea from “the American imperialists and the puppet government of South Korea” (1995, 35). How, then, have these four myths and the Juche ideology been embodied in North Korea and internalized by the people? The following section discusses this question.
Sociocultural Context of North Korea and Social Construction of Reality
In North Korea, states Armstrong, “culture, propaganda, and education have
tended to be blurred, if not fused into a single entity, in revolutionary Marxist-Leninist states” (2003, 167). Through “the total control of culture, propaganda, education” and “thorough studying and manipulating the inner workings or psychology of individuals,” the regime intended to create a “new man” who is programmed as the “socialist personality” (Eghigian 2004, 183, 197). As the North Korean regime explicitly states and intentionally instills, Juche is a “world outlook,” a worldview by which people perceive and understand the world and by which people interpret and make a judgment about things around them (J. Kim 1984, 28-30). The Juche idea and the whole social-cultural context of North Korea operate like a well-planned explicit and implicit curriculum that cultivates Juche-typed socialist human dispositions.
Sociocultural Contexts as Objectification of the Juche Worldview and the Indigenous Form of Socialism
There are many studies that describe and analyze social, economic, political,
and cultural systems and the everyday life of North Koreans (Oh and Hassig 2000; H. Park 2002; Demick 2009; Belke 1998). It is important to understand the mundane life experience of the people in North Korea because this shows the process and content of socialization and how differences between North Koreans and South Koreans have come about. However, in order to avoid a lengthy elaboration in this part of the precedent literature, the sociocultural context of the everyday life of North Koreans is summarized as follows:
(1) Eleven years of free, state-sponsored “universal compulsory education” and continuing adult education in accordance with the socialist pedagogy
(I. Kim 1981, 36-37; Hyun 2004, 160)
(2) Weekly self- and mutual criticism sessions according to Kim Il Sung’s instruction
(3) Social stratification and discrimination based on family’s political economical background: classes are largely composed of the core class (workers, farmers, and soldiers), the wavering class (those who migrated from South Korea and who have families in South Korea, China, or Japan), and the hostile class (those who have expressed dissatisfaction with the North Korean regime, families from wealthy landlords, and members of religious organizations)
(4) Social control through food rationing system and travel permission
(5) Monopoly of information
(6) Multiple layers of surveillance system
(7) Use of arts and literature for propagandizing
(8) Social life organized by corporate units to which everyone belongs
(9) Daily and occasional rituals such as national holidays, initiation ceremonies for those joining memberships such as the Young Pioneers for elementary students and the League of Socialist Working Youth for teenagers, mass games and rallies; marching together to schools or workplace and cleaning and bowing down to the Kim Il Sung’s portraits every morning; pilgrimages to Mangyongdae, Kim Il Sung’s birth place
(Chai and Hyon 1980; Armstrong 2003; Chon 2004; Oh and Hassig 2000;
Hunter 1999; Cumings 2004; Chang 1977)
The following statement summarizes well the comprehensive impact and
centrality of Juche that is embodied in every aspect of the society of North Korea.
Juche is not a political ideology designed to rationalize political orientations or a philosophical belief system officially promoted by the ruling elite. It is a way of life in North Korea, a vocabulary that is inseparable from North Korean life. In virtually every sphere of life, one finds the presence of Juche. As a result, the process of political socialization whereby Juche is instilled in people’s belief system is greatly reinforced by the fact that the idea is not just perceived and thought about, but more important it is lived in an array of tangible life situations. (H. Park 2002, 75)
If we apply Berger and Luckmann’s framework (1966) to analyze the social construction of reality in North Korea, the North Korean regime has externalized the Juche ideology, Kimilsungism, and the new social order. It has objectified them through the thorough plan and synthesis of sociocultural contexts described above, so that people experience the reality that the regime orchestrated and constructed in their daily lives and mundane social interactions. Juche has been “a way of life” (Park 2002, 75) and the “living reality” for
North Koreans (Armstrong 2003, 7).
Cultural Themes Integrated in the Indigenous Form of Socialism
Part of the concern of this study is to understand the cultural frame of
reference of North Koreans. The study seeks to grasp it indirectly by understanding North Korean defectors. The phrase “socialism in our own style” not only embodies the Juche idea of “self-reliance,” but also underscores North Korea’s indigenized form of socialism in its particular cultural and historical context. Armstrong states that North Korea certainly cannot be perceived as “a typical post-World War II Soviet satellite along the lines of East Germany or Poland” because communism in North Korea was quickly indigenized in its own historical, social, and cultural context (2003, 4). The regime highlighted the importance of understanding its own historical and cultural context and integrated its deep-seated cultural themes into its own socialism and social reality in order to develop a certain type of people, who would continue to lead a revolution of North Korea’s particular kind.
Such cultural themes recognized by scholars are nationalism, collectivism,
and Confucianism. These themes are to some degree interrelated (Armstrong 2003; Shin
2006; Cummings 2004). For instance, while looking into the revolutionary years of North Korea, Armstrong claimed that Korea turned out to be “more orthodox in its Confucianism than Vietnam or China” (2003, 4). North Korean socialism is perceived as “MarxismLeninism upside-down,” “Stalinist in form” and “nationalist in content” (Armstrong 2003,
243, 245). North Korean socialism has incorporated Confucian and nationalistic substance. Likewise, Cummings described North Korea’s communist revolution as a “transformation into a new Confucian society or family-state” (2004, 134).
Scholars have noticed that North Korea’s socialism has distinct emphases that
contrast with elements of Marxism-Leninism and instead resemble the Neo-Confucian society of Chosun, the Korean dynasty prior to Japanese colonial rule. Concrete examples of emphases of North Korea’s socialism that contrast with Marxism-Leninism are: ideology and humanism over materialism, “voluntarism over historical determinacy,” “vocabulary of family images and national unity over the language of class struggle,” and “social distinction and hierarchy over egalitarian ethos of socialism” (Shin 2006, 94; Armstrong 2003, 6). The use of family images and language to depict and designate the leader and the country also resembles Confucianism. Confucianism’s “filial piety” is extended to strong loyalty to the leader (Cumings 2004, 134). Instead of thinking of Kim Il Sung as a political leader or fearful dictator, the North Korean people were educated to revere and love him as “Oboi Suryong,” which means “the fatherly or parental leader,” and, moreover, to view the nation itself as one big family or “sociopolitical organism” (Shin 2006, 85).
These themes also appear in the historical and cultural context of South Korea
(Shin 2006; Shim et al. 2008; Luthans, Peterson, and Ibrayeva 1998, 188, 197; Hofstede 2005, 39-72). This is because North Korea and South Korea share much of their history and have developed such cultural themes by responding similarly to different external pressures, such as anti-colonialism for North Korea and anti-communism for South Korea (Shin 2006). For example, nationalism, authoritarian leadership, and social structure based on
Confucianism made it possible for South Korea to establish a powerful centralized state in a short period of time through consolidation of political power. The same forces enabled South Korea to achieve industrialization and economic development through collectivism and solidarity under authoritarian leadership that commands from the top (Shim et al. 2008, 10-
11; Pye 1985; Shim, Kim, and Martin 2008).
In spite of such commonalities in traditional cultures, differences between North and South Korea cannot be minimized. Shim and his colleagues describe contemporary South Korea as a “land of contrasts” due to the mixed existence and influence of Confucianism, Japanese feudal aristocracy, and Western values of capitalism, democracy, and individualism—all of which are demonstrated in various domains of society to different extents (2007, 17). As a result of those influences, they argue,
Korea is now a land of contrasts, where its citizens negotiate these contrasts on a daily basis: a scholarly society vs. a Confucian-Capitalistic society, a country of obligatory social conformity vs. individualism, and a land of morning calm vs. the land of dynamism. It is useful to keep these tensions in mind when thinking about Korea that the Korean culture is a set of dynamic contrasts, rather than a static set of specific characteristics or traits. (Shim,
Kim, and Martin 2008, 17)
While North Korean culture has been more static and conservative, South Korean culture has undergone more dynamic changes. As a result, South Korean people’s ways of thinking and living, while shaped by capitalism, globalization, and individualism, may demonstrate counter themes of collectivism, Confucianism, and socialism. Even though they share some root cultures and are adapting to South Korean ways of thinking, behaving and living, North Korean defectors are likely to encounter disorienting dilemmas or triggering events that lead them to engage in critical reflection on their taken-for-granted frame of reference, assimilated in North Korea.
In fact, the findings of studies on North Korean defectors show that in
comparison to South Koreans, North Korean defectors have more Confucian attitudes and conservative cultural standards about sex and marriage, emphasize a greater cause and value behind action, and demonstrate more collectivistic ways of thinking and behaving (Choi 2007, 354; Jeon et al. 1997; Cho 2004). In addition, Watts’s study on the value and belief systems of East Germans around the reunification period shows that they experienced “a partial and tension-laden structure of values, contained superficial elements of a Western adaptation, but an underlying structure that reflects residues of the official socialist personality” (1994, 482). Watts explained that East German youths were experiencing both Easternization and Westernization. How, then, do North Korean defectors experience all these things—the dynamics and contrasts of South Korean culture, the shared Korean root culture, and the socialist ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving assimilated in North
Korea—in their learning context of South Korea?
Socialist Pedagogy
Education as a sociocultural process cannot be independent from culture. As Gay expresses it, culture is “at the heart of all we do in the name of education,” including curriculum, teaching, learning, administration, and assessment (2010, 8). The following section takes a brief look at North Korea’s education. Apart from socialist pedagogy published in Pyongyang, more books and studies are published on North Korean education in South Korea. For instance, Lim (2010) traced the educational history of North Korea in accordance with the vicissitudes of the Party’s policies. Hyung-chan Kim and Tong-gyu
Kim (2005) also provide a comprehensive introduction to North Korean education.
Kim Il Sung (1973) claimed that the failure of Marx and Engels in the
construction of communism was partly due to an underestimation of ideological revolution.
He asserted the importance of developing a unique pedagogy for socialist educators, which must be distinguished from capitalist pedagogy (I. Kim 1973, 9-12, 2-3). In 1967, Kim Il Sung presented his “Theses on Socialist Pedagogy” (Kim and Kim 2005; Lim 2010; I. Kim 1979, 316-368). The organization of the theses is as follows (I. Kim 1979, 316-368).
The first chapter deals with the basic principles of socialist pedagogy: Party
spirit, working-class spirit, and Juche ideology should be embodied and established in education; education should be derived from practical needs and serve practice; it is the state’s duty to plan and implement education. The second chapter discusses the content of socialist pedagogy for knowledge, virtuous mind, and sound body. The content consists of political and ideological indoctrination, modern scientific-technological education, and physical education. The third chapter proposes the five socialist educational methodologies: (1) heuristic teaching method; (2) “combination of theoretical education with practical training, and education with productive labor;” (3) “intensification of organized life and social and political activities;” (4) “combination of school and social education;” and (5) “continuity in preschool, school and adult education” (I. Kim 1979, 336-346). The fourth chapter outlines the educational system, including the eleven years of free compulsory education and the “studying-while-working” system supported by the regime. The last chapter prescribes the role, duties, and mission of the school, teachers, and the Party. It also develops ideas of social and national support to carry out revolutionary, “working-classizing” education.
Some aspects of socialist pedagogy need to be highlighted. First, students
are educated collectively in the spirit of collectivism to “work, study and live on the collectivist principle of ‘One for all and all for one’, and fight devotedly for society and the people, for the interests of the Party and the revolution” (I. Kim 1981, 29). Second, instruction and indoctrination are to be logical and persuasive (Kim and Kim 2005, 151, 248). Third, socialist education in North Korea emphasizes integration of theory with practice and what is learned at school with its application in workplaces. The regime endorses “useful, living knowledge” for the advancement of society (I. Kim 1979, 339). In that regard, every educational plan is linked to the Party’s economic and social policies and to workplaces.
Moreover, socialist pedagogy implements an educational system that enables
all people to continue to study. Kim Il Sung directed the Party to run adult education systems for “the working people to continue studying without leaving their posts in socialist construction” (1979, 353) either in their spare-time, at night, or through correspondence education (Lee and Lee, 126). Ideas of adult education and continuing education are common.
Finally, socialist pedagogy advocates the significance of social education as
well as formal education. Kim stated that “schools and social educational institutions must strengthen their mutual ties, and the teachers and the staff of these institutions must work together closely in the education of students” (I. Kim 1979, 343). The educational influence of social surroundings such as homes, media, broadcasts, press, and films, and the role of social educational institutions such as youth camps and libraries, are recognized and synthesized to reinforce systematic education at school (I. Kim 1979, 342-344).
In conclusion, it is plausible to think that North Korea’s educational system
has shaped people’s points of view on epistemology, teaching and learning processes, and relationships between teachers and students. One concern is that as Kim and Kim point out, “their [North Korean defectors’] educational experiences are so varied and truncated by economic hardship that it may be a mistake if we rely upon their experiences alone for an accurate assessment of how North Korea’s indoctrination programs have been working” (2005, 187). The educational experiences of North Korean defectors are indeed diverse, according to their educational backgrounds and ages. For instance, Song (2011) found a new generation of North Koreans who have never been educated at school and have little knowledge of Juche. For that reason, this study focused on experiences of defectors who left North Korea at the age of 18 or older. It was assumed that they might have constructed in North Korea meaning schemes and perspectives on educational issues such as: What is the nature of knowledge in relation to practice? What does effective instruction look like? What is the relationship between education policies and the government? What are the contexts of education, and what is the place of schooling or formal education within them? In addition, the researcher triangulated reports of North Korean defectors with literature on North Korean education.
Studies on North Korean Defectors in South Korea
The recent phenomenon of a growing number of North Korean defectors in South Korea has made empirical research more possible. The main concerns of earlier empirical studies of North Korean defectors have been primarily related to adaptation issues and psychological post-traumatic stress. The studies have uncovered some of the differences in the cognitive structures and personality traits of North Korean defectors shaped by the sociocultural and political context of North Korea, identified factors that affect their adaptation, sought to understand their post-traumatic stress, and raised the issue of the limited social network and social prejudice toward them. Contributions were often made for improving policies to support the quality of life of North Korean defectors in South Korea.
Although North Korean defectors’ adaptation in South Korea, psychological
status, and post-traumatic stress after severe trauma are critical matters, recent studies identify some of the limitations of the earlier studies. One of the limitations is that earlier researchers often used a linear adaptation framework, a researcher-centered approach, and quantitative research methods. North Korean defectors were often seen as a group of maladapted people and objects of social welfare policies. Their experiences were studied as isolated events instead of being seen as part of their past, present, and future life cycle. Their agency as subjects who make meaning of and reconstruct their experiences, and act upon them in their present lives, was of little concern (Uhm 2006; Jo 2010, 176). Recent studies using qualitative research methods, however, focus on reconstructing North Korean defectors’ life histories and understanding how they make sense of their own lives.
Furthermore, with regard to the linear adaptation perspective of earlier studies,
it seems that scholars have started seeing North Korean defectors’ experiences in light of globalization, migration, and multiculturalism. For instance, Mah (2006) points out that public media, reports, and studies seem to contribute to prejudiced perceptions and a social construction of stigmatized and negative images of North Korean defectors. As a result, North Korean defectors are conceived of as a maladjusted minority group whose primary pertinent issue is adaptation to South Korean society. Mah and others argue, however, that the positive meaning of the defectors’ experiences and their possibilities should be highlighted. Their presence among South Koreans must be seen from a social integration point of view in light of future reunification, rather than from the viewpoint of unilateral adaptation—that is, North Korean defectors’ need to be South Koreanized (Mah 2006, 336; H. Lee 2010, 211; Choi 2007).
Similarly, Lee uses a multicultural model to understand identity construction
of North Korean defectors in South Korea, rather than an assimilation model in which a minority group’s adaptation implies conforming their way of life to that of the mainstream society (H. Lee 2010, 207). Lee understands how North Korean defectors construct new identities that provide self-respect and social value in terms of struggle for recognition. Instead of understanding their identity negotiation and construction as making a political choice to either become a South Korean citizen or remain a North Korean, North Korean defectors are considered as a “diaspora” who construct trans- or cross-national identities from a multicultural framework (H. Lee 2010, 236). Likewise, studies by Jo, Lim, and Jeong (2006) and Jo (2010) indicate that North Korean defectors are developing multiple identities. These researchers argue that the development of multiple identities should not be regarded as evidence of maladjustment or identity confusion; rather, the phenomenon has to be considered as a healthy sign of defectors developing their own identities in South Korea based on their different life experiences and critical reflection on both societies.
In addition, from a comparative study’s point of view, Nuri Kim interprets
social-cultural conflicts between East Germans and West Germans after reunification in light of a globalization thesis rather than a deformation, transformation, or colonization thesis (2006, 28-52). The issue of ex-East Germans’ ostalgia and their development of their identities as old East Germans rather than unified Germans is considered to be primarily due to the difficulty of adjusting to the changing world of globalization, rather than to their earlier socialization in the “deformed,” authoritarian communist society or their sense of inferiority and loss compared to West Germans (N. Kim 2006, 47-52). Multicultural education literature also affirms that immigrants develop and practice multiple identities in the process of adaptation rather than following a plain trajectory of assimilation from the culture of their origin to the mainstream culture (Zou and Trueba 2002, 4).
Some scholars also argue that earlier studies have treated issues of North Korean defectors’ trauma, difficulties in adaptation, or cognitive, affective, or behavioral styles that differ from those of South Koreans, in a decontextualized manner rather than in a holistic manner. They suggest that their experience is to be seen in relation to their social positioning and social location in South Korean society (S. Kim 2005; Ryoo 2006). For instance, Ryoo charges that the previous studies’ perspectives place the burden of adaptation and acculturation on minority groups and on North Korean defectors’ individual abilities to adjust (2006, 2). Researchers look for factors of maladjustment such as personality traits, internalized value systems, education, class, profession, prior experiences, and professional skill in North Korea, but Ryoo argues that social structures in South Korea and in the North Korean defectors’ social location have to be taken into account.
Ryoo (2006) perceives two reasons that North Korean defectors become a
minority group. First, at an individual level, they lack the economic, social, and cultural capital that is necessary to settle in South Korea. This is in accordance with the concept used by Bourdieu. Second, there exists at a social level an “antagonistic ideology” and “social stigma” against North Korean defectors, and subsequent prejudice and discrimination against them. Ryoo identifies five types of exclusion that North Korean defectors experience in South Korea: exclusion from the labor market, economic exclusion, exclusion through social isolation by prejudices and categorizing, spatial exclusion due to living in rental apartments assigned by the government to low income families, and institutional exclusion (2006).
What is interesting is that Ryoo takes note of the distinctive social positioning
of North Korean defectors from other minority groups in South Korea. He argues that even though North Korean defectors have much in common with other minority groups in terms of “identifiability, differential power, differential treatment and collective consciousness of a minority group,” their situation is distinguishable from that of other minority groups because of the ideological hostility toward North Korean defectors among South Koreans on the one hand, and the active assistance, support, and protection that the South Korean government tries to provide for them on the other (Ryoo 2006, 185).
These recent developments in North Korean defector studies add another
importance piece of the research concern to the previous main concern of culture. Understanding a broad social context in which a phenomenon of interest is taking place is important. Individuals’ agency matters, and people’s actions are cultural products, but people’s actions, experiences, and education are also influenced by social structures, politics of cultures, or individuals’ and communities’ positioning. One’s story implicitly or explicitly embodies and connects his or her biography, society, and history (Bathmaker 2010, 5).
Relevant Studies in Theological Education
Many have voiced the opinion that developing North Korean defectors as
national leaders is crucial for the process of reunification, for ministry among North Korean defectors in South Korea, and for North Korean mission in the present and future. Nevertheless, little empirical research has been done in the field of theological education in general and theological education for North Korean defectors in particular. In the midst of the dearth of studies, Eun Shik Cho (2008) conducted an action research type of study by interviewing eight North Korean defector theological students in person or by phone. His study explores the rationales behind their decisions or motivations to go to theological schools, the difficulties they faced while studying in theological schools, and challenges pertaining to ministry. Although Cho does not use any educational theory as a framework and does not report findings with thick descriptions, the study is signified by the fact that North Korean defector students were heard and were able to identify specific issues.
Cho’s finding shows that participants experienced difficulties due to the
following factors: returning to school after a long hiatus from formal education, finance, foreign languages used in class, lack of basic knowledge, loneliness, and studying while adapting to life in South Korea (2008, 53). The difficulties found in his study are congruent with other studies conducted among North Korean defector college students and youth in general about their adjustment at school. In terms of difficulties concerning ministry, Cho reports that there seem to be a small number of churches that care for these theological students by giving them opportunities to practice in ministry what they are learning at school (2008, 54). He also informs about some drop-out students and problematizes that South Korean churches encourage North Korean defectors whose church attendance rates are high to pursue theological education without discerning their call to ministry (Cho 2008, 54-55).
Parallel Studies on Theological Education in Post-Communist Countries
Studies written on theological education in dynamic times in post-communist
Russia and Eastern European countries are noteworthy (Charter 1997; Bohn 1997; Elliott 1998; 2010; Shamgunow 2009). When Gorbachev initiated political reform and the open policy, foreign, largely Western resources from various denominations and parachurch and mission organizations poured into Russia to establish residential theological programs across the former Soviet Union (Elliott 1998; 2010; 1995; Charter 1997). The problem that Charter perceived in the phenomenon was that Western models of theological education were imported and transplanted without careful reflection upon the contextual and cultural appropriateness of the models in the Russian and Ukrainian context. By interviewing 66 students and 20 faculty members in three new Protestant seminaries, she explored how they perceived the interplay between the five issues that were identified by nationals as critical to judging the appropriateness of theological education in the Russian context and teaching and learning tasks by Russian professors and students. The five determinative issues were: “(1) lack of long-term planning, (2) lack of indigenous literature, (3) lack of national theologians and faculty, (4) the impact of Western influences in the curriculum, and (5) lack of ownership by the church of institutional theological education” (Charter 1997).
David Bohn (1997) interviewed evangelical church leaders from post-
communist countries in Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, and Russia. He sought to understand their perspectives in areas of theological education such as the potential of formal and nonformal theological education, goals of theological education, ethical and moral problems, foreign involvement, close ties between church and seminary and faculty development.
Both Charter (1997) and Bohn (1997, 120) were concerned about the fact that
the Western residential model of theological education was imported without critical deliberation, while the opportunity to reform and re-envision theological education was not well utilized. This happened for various reasons: lack of understanding of the issues involved in the appropriateness of theological education in a socio-historical, indigenous context, pressures of time (the current openness for mission might not last, but the need for evangelism was great), and dependency on and accountability to Western accreditation standards and stakeholders rather than indigenous local churches.
Elliott (1998) summarized the issues that were revealed in the studies of Charter and Bohn: (1) relationship with the West; (2) admission policies that competed for students and admitted students who were young, inexperienced, spiritually immature, and without calling; (3) seminary-church relations; (4) ambivalence regarding the purpose of theological education; (5) curriculum required for more spiritual formation; (6) need for solid theology against cults; (7) development of analytic, independent thinking and discernment; (8) advantages and disadvantages of nonformal education; (9) Western accreditation requirements and dependence; and (10) necessity of higher degree.
At the heart of the problems were the roles of Westerners and the type of
assistance they provided to Russian theologians and theological education, which turned out to be a “mixed blessing” (Charter 1998; Elliott 1998; Elliott 1995). Charter and Eliott perceived that if Russian theological institutions and leaders attempt to be accountable to Western academic, denominational, and logistic standards instead of to Russian local churches and their unique contextual needs, their dependency on Western resources would continue to deepen and the problems of brain-drain to other countries and of developing national theologians and theologies would be prolonged. Further, emulation of the Western theological education model would perpetuate the problems of the residential formal education model—problems such as dichotomies between theory and practice, distant ties between school and church, a gap between academic knowledge at seminary and competence in dealing with real and practical issues in pastoring local churches.
A decade later, Elliott wrote another article about the contemporary crisis in Protestant theological education in the former Soviet Union (2010). Contrary to the exciting and hopeful picture of numerous seminaries built in 1990s, he reported a dim picture of many residential seminary buildings left wasted with only a small number of full-time students, and schools facing the decision of whether to close or merge due to declining student enrollment and church growth (Elliott 2010, 1-2). In addition, due to the lenient admission standards mentioned earlier, graduates are still unqualified for ministry, churches distrust theological education and graduates from seminaries, and employment or placement rates for graduates in local churches are low (Elliott 2010).
Transformative Learning
Mezirow’s transformative learning theory is constructed by incorporating
ideas from diverse fields of philosophy, psychology, sociology, education, linguistics, and so on. Among them, it is important to consider the influence of Habermas’s theory of communicative action, since Mezirow recognized Habermas’s theory as a social theoretical construction of transformative learning theory. Habermas’s theory has also become a critical aspect in both the evolvement and critiques of transformative learning theory. Habermas’s communicative action involves three interrelated dynamics: the lifeworld, learning, and social interaction. He identifies three “knowledge-constitutive interests”
(Habermas 1971, 168) where each interest constitutes a different form of knowledge and entails a different mode of inquiry: the technical, the practical, and the emancipatory. Based on the three interests, three domains of learning are identified: instrumental, communicative, and emancipatory learning (Mezirow 1991, 69-89; 2000, 8-10; Cranton 2006, 11-14).
Concepts: Frames of Reference and Transformative Learning
Transformative learning is distinguished from learning. When it comes to
learning in an ordinary sense, people attribute an old meaning or interpretation to a new experience; in transformative learning, people are empowered to reinterpret an old experience from a new or revised perspective (Mezirow 2000, 5; 1991, 11). Mezirow defines transformative learning as “the process by which we transform our taken-for-granted frames of reference” (2000, 7) to make them more “inclusive, discriminating, open, emotionally capable of change, and reflective” so that beliefs and viewpoints which derive from these frames of reference may be more true or validated to guide action (Mezirow 2000,
8).
Meaning-making or interpretation is not only a critical aspect of the human
condition, but also a critical aspect of the learning process (Mezirow 2000, 3-4). In his theory, Mezirow gives attention to the frames of reference through which people make meaning of their experiences. Mezirow explains that, in general, one’s frames of reference represent “cultural paradigms (collectively held frames of reference)” (2000, 16). Frames of reference consist of a set of assumptions and expectations that are uncritically assimilated through culture, history, social norms, personal background, experience, personality, and schooling. These assumptions and expectations filter sense perceptions and shape or restrain the way people feel, think, judge, and act. Frames of reference include cognitive, affective, and conative dimensions.
More specifically, a frame of reference consists of two dimensions: meaning
perspectives (habits of mind) and meaning schemes (the resulting points of view) (Mezirow 2000, 17; 2009, 22). Each habit of mind (meaning perspective) consists of a number of points of view (meaning schemes). Meaning schemes as “concrete manifestations” of meaning perspectives refer to “particular knowledge, beliefs, value judgments and feelings that become articulated in an interpretation” (Mezirow 1991, 44).
Process of Transformative Learning
Learning takes place in relation to the two dimensions of a frame of reference.
Mezirow explicates four distinct ways in which adult learning may take place: “by elaborating existing meaning schemes,” by “learning new meaning schemes,” by
“transforming meaning schemes,” and by “transforming meaning perspectives” (2009, 22; 1991, 93-94). However, transformative learning particularly refers to learning that transforms problematic or distorted frames of reference (meaning perspectives) and makes them more appropriate to “generate beliefs and opinions that prove more true or justified to guide action” (2009, 22). When a person encounters a disorienting dilemma and an alternative perspective, transformative learning can occur as a single epochal event that brings about dramatic or major change. Transformative learning can also take place incrementally as “a gradual cumulative process” through a series of changes in meaning schemes (Mezirow 2009, 23; 2000, 23). Based on his study of women’s experiences of reentry programs in community colleges, Mezirow identified ten phases of the perspective transformation cycle (1978; 1991, 168-169; 2000, 22; 2009, 19).
(1) A disorienting dilemma
(2) Self-examination
(3) A critical assessment of assumptions
(4) Recognition of a connection between one’s discontent and the process of transformation
(5) Exploration of options for new roles, relationships, and action
(6) Planning a course of action
(7) Acquiring knowledge and skills for implementing one’s plan
(8) Provisional trying of new roles
(9) Building competence and self-confidence in new roles and relationships
(10) A reintegration into one’s life on the basis of conditions dictated by one’s new perspective.
With some variation, transformation happens in accordance with those phases. Four central components identified in the above ten phases are “experience,” “critical reflection,” “reflective discourse,” and “action” (Merriam et al. 2007, 134).
Experience: Triggering Events and Disorienting Dilemmas
Mezirow notices that people customarily do not have access to their
unconscious process of filtering perceptions and forming interpretations and judgments (2009, 22), yet it seems that people gain such access when triggering events or experiences give rise to disorienting dilemmas. Examples of triggering events are death, illness, divorce, children leaving home, war, failure in promotion, eye-opening discussions, reading books or poems, appreciating paintings, and so on (Mezirow 1990, 14; 1991, 168). This list is growing as transformative learning theory evolves through empirical studies. It now includes culture shock and cross-cultural experience as triggering events (Lyon 2002; Taylor 1994).
Critical Reflection
It is expected that triggering experiences that facilitate deep questions and
create disorienting dilemmas lead people to assess and critically examine their taken-forgranted and dysfunctional assumptions. There are three kinds of reflection: content reflection, process reflection, and premise reflection (Mezirow 1991, 2000; Taylor 2009; Cranton 2006). Premise or critical reflection, which is vital for transformative learning, goes beyond answering what or how questions, the objects of content and process reflection. Instead, it focuses on assessment of cultural contexts, social norms, or codes that justify our assumptions. Tennant states that a test of transformative learning has to do with the extent to which it reveals “the social and cultural embeddedness” or the socio-cultural context of our problematic taken-for-granted assumptions in which the self is positioned and, as a result, oppressed (1998, 374). Transformative learning is after all a change of epistemologies, Kegan states, because it transforms learners from that which they are embedded, the very existing form by which they are making meanings, and restores agencies (2000, 51).
In spite of the vitality of critical reflection, Mezirow recognizes that the extent
to which critical reflection or reflective discourse are encouraged varies among cultures and societies (2000, 15). Some empirical studies done in cross-cultural contexts and studies on learning of intercultural competence revealed that transformative learning took place through assimilative learning without critical reflection (K. Park 2002; Temple 1999; Taylor 1994).
Reflective Discourse and Ideal Conditions
It is participation in rational and reflective dialogue that becomes “the
medium for critical reflection to be put into action” (Taylor 2009, 9). Mezirow believes that validation of assumptions, beliefs, and values, and movement toward an alternative perspective occur through engagement in rational dialogue. However, for adult learners to participate fully and freely in the critical discourse, it is essential that the following ideal conditions are met (Mezirow 1991, 198; 2000, 13; 2009, 20):
▪ More accurate and complete information
▪ Freedom from coercion and distorting self-deception
▪ Openness to alternative points of view and empathy and concern about how others think and feel
▪ The ability to weigh evidence and assess arguments objectively ▪ Awareness of the context of ideas and taken-for-granted assumptions, including one’s own
▪ Equal opportunity to participate in the various roles of discourse ▪ A willingness to seek understanding, agreement, and a tentative best judgment as a test of validity until new perspectives, evidence, or arguments are encountered and validated through discourse as yielding a better judgment.
In response to critics of his theory, Mezirow (2009) admits that it is impossible to create a context for discourse that fully satisfies the above ideal conditions, but he stresses the importance of fostering this kind of democratic environment. For that reason, power relationships, equalities in social structures, social integration and social justice, social identity of the marginalized groups, and equal access to proper education and training are important concerns for adult education (Mezirow 2000, 27).
Action and Reintegration
Transformative learning is not complete until the new perspective is integrated
into one’s life. The change that takes place in epistemological assumptions or worldviews should lead to an “ontological shift” (Taylor 2008, 10). The change involves “acting on revisions, behaving, talking, and thinking in a way that is congruent with transformed assumptions or new perspectives” (Cranton 2002, 66). In this way, equilibrium is regained.
Early Critiques and Progress
Transformative learning theory as initially constructed by Mezirow has been
appreciated by many and become one of the most researched recent theories, but it has also been much critiqued. One of the most frequently recognized limitations of Mezirow’s transformative learning theory is his over-reliance on rationality. Other ways of knowing and the role of relationships, imagination, intuition, and emotion in the process of transformative learning were overlooked (Cranton 2006; Taylor 2000; 2007; Mezirow 2009, 27).
Mezirow’s over-reliance on human reasoning in perspective transformation
turns the focus of transformative learning to what takes place inside individuals. In spite of its relation to critical theory as interpreted by Habermas, Mezirow’s theory is more concerned with a psychocultural or psychocritical dimension than with a social dimension of adult learning (Merriam et al. 2007, 132). It lost the elements of ideological critique and social, collective action which are critical characteristics of an “emancipatory theory”
(Brookfield 2001, 7; Collard & Law 1989, 104-105; Tennant 1993). For instance, the ideal conditions for rational discourse appear to be apolitical because issues such as structural inequalities and power are neglected. Collard and Law (1989) point out that the inequality of power is so deeply rooted in social structures that the idea of free and full participation in rational discourse among people is impractical. In addition, Mezirow’s interpretation of women’s re-entry into college (1978) is criticized for decontextualizing the experience and interpreting it as a psychological process without recognizing what was happening in the larger American society in 1960-70. Clark and Wilson state that Mezirow’s interpretation should have included a gendered analysis by taking into account social power structures in the historical context of 1960s and 1970s, “an era of general racial, political, and philosophical changes in American life” (1991, 71).
With respect to the emancipatory aspect, transformative learning aims at
empowering adult learners to become autonomous, liberated persons. According to Siegal, a liberated person is a person “free from unwarranted and undesirable control of unjustified beliefs, unsupportable attitudes and paucity of ability which can prevent one from taking charge of her own life” (Mezirow 1990, 58; see also Mezirow 2000, 26). This image of the autonomous person is “a highly decisionist model of the self” as one who can make choices and act upon them apart from sociocultural contexts (Clark and Wilson 1991, 79). Clark and Wilson argue that such an image is problematic because it neglects the formative influence of the sociocultural context upon the development of one’s self-identity. They go on to say that the reality of “contested subjectivity” rather than “unified and uncontested self” is overlooked (Clark and Wilson 1991, 79). The problems indicated above are related to certain premises that Mezirow holds about adult learning: “learner-centeredness, critical discourse, and self-directedness” (1990, 363). Clark and Wilson point out that these premises actually demonstrate the influence of the cultural context on Mezirow’s theory itself. In that regard, Mezirow is critiqued as failing to critically reflect on the assumptions of his theory, that is, “the hegemonic American values of individualism, rationality, and autonomy” (1991, 80).
Tennant provides a different perspective on Mezirow, though he agrees with
others, including Clark and Wilson, regarding Mezirow’s underestimation of the power of social forces to shape the perspectives and lives of individuals. Regarding the insufficient concern for a social dimension in Mezirow, Tennant asserts that Mezirow’s concern is not with “the social per se” but “with the social within the individual” (1993, 36). He explores how “the social” generates dysfunctional frames of reference which “distort” or limit” one’s understanding of self and experience of the reality (1993, 36).
As the theory has progressed, empirical studies of transformative learning
have taken different directions, complementing what is perceived to be missing in Mezirow’s initial construction of the theory while sharing his overall framework (Dirkx 2001; 2008;
Baumgartner 2001; Cranton 2006; Merriam et al. 2007; Taylor 2008).
Review of Empirical Studies
Taylor has reviewed empirical studies conducted since the 1990s that have
used transformative learning as a theoretical framework (2003; 2007; 2008). Findings in his reviews and a few empirical studies help ground this research in transformative learning literature. First, Taylor signifies that critical reflection has continued to be regarded as central in the process of transformative learning, but the presence of critical reflection in the process was hard to explore. Second, supportive and trustful relationships and engagement in dialogue with others are identified as significant in the process of questioning taken-forgranted beliefs and assumptions, finding information, and integrating an alternative new perspective into life (Taylor 2000, 306; 2007, 179, 187). Third, concerning the nature of perspective transformation, it has been discovered that perspective transformation seems to be “enduring and irreversible” (Taylor 2007, 180). Moreover, perspective transformation involves more than an epistemological change. It also includes identity development or “negotiation of the self” and “a change in their being in the world including their forms of relatedness” (2007, 180-181). Fourth, Taylor found, based on Garvett’s study (2004), that making students aware of their epistemological assumptions is not enough—rather, “ongoing institutional support” or instrumental learning need to be present to assist and guide learners to act on their new perspectives (2007, 187-188). Fifth, the role of affective learning and the role of emotions in the process of transformative learning require more attention. Taylor states, “Little is known about how to effectively engage emotions in practice, particularly in relationship to its counterpart critical reflection, and the role of particular feelings (e.g. anger, shame, happiness) in relationship to transformative learning” (Taylor 2007, 188). Finally, the role of culture and sociocultural context (including issues of power and gender) in shaping the nature of transformative learning is still an under-researched area.
More studies have been conducted outside the United States, but few have made difference of nationality or culture “a central focus” of their research (Taylor 2007, 178).
In addition to what Taylor found in his review, Lyon (2002) compared two
bodies of literature—cross-cultural adaptation and transformative learning—and found parallel ideas between them. Culture shock and cross-cultural experience can be viewed as triggering events that cause disorienting dilemmas, and cross-cultural learning involves perspective transformation. Not only is the conversion experience of North Korean defectors considered to be an experience of perspective transformation, the learning experience of North Korean defector theological students in theological schools in South
Korea can be seen as a cross-cultural experience that may trigger transformative learning. The following studies, for instance, used transformative learning theory as a framework for understanding people’s cross-cultural learning experiences. They are relevant enough to be mentioned briefly in this study.
Temple (1999) interviewed mainland Chinese who experienced conversion
after coming to the United States. She found that both the Christian conversion experience and cross-cultural adjustment involved perspective transformation, and that the nature of transformation was shaped by both Chinese cultural values and the immediate context of America. Interestingly, the process of transformation was characterized as “assimilative learning” determinatively shaped by contexts rather than through critical reflection. Likewise, Kyungho Park (2002) inquired into the experiences of international graduate students from East Asia at schools in the United States. He found that individualistic American culture and academic structure influenced students to develop new self-centered identities, self-esteems, and new ways of thinking, and that this process was facilitated by relationships through modeling and friendship and by positive feelings. Negative emotions, however, caused critical reflection. Park suggests that both assimilative learning and transformative learning describe the students’ intercultural experience and change. These studies demonstrated that the nature and process of perspective transformation could differ in cultural contexts other than the Western context in which Mezirow developed the theory (Merriam and Ntseane 2008). For instance, non-reflective, assimilative learning can be also transformative learning (Park 2002; Temple 1999; Taylor 1994).
Williaume’s study (2009) integrated a social identity theory and intercultural
competence literature with transformative learning theory. He studied missionaries in the Northwest Coast potlatch, looking at how their intercultural competence and changed social identity in the host culture contributed to gaining more ministry opportunities. The finding showed that worldview transformation is an integral aspect of learning intercultural competence. As their behaviors become more congruent to the values of the host culture and help to build trust in the community, those missionaries have better opportunities to minister among indigenous people.
The learning experience of North Korean defector theological students and
graduates in South Korean theological educational contexts is to some extent a cross-cultural sojourning experience. Transformative learning theory and the aforementioned empirical studies prompt the following questions. To what extent has their frame of reference, assimilated in the socio-cultural and political context of North Korea, undergone transformation since they left North Korea? In what ways, if any, have their old cultural frames of reference from North Korea and the new sociocultural context—including Korean churches, theological schools, and society—affected and shaped their (transformative) learning experience? In what ways and to what extent do their learning of new perspectives and reintegration of them into their lives facilitate opportunities for further learning in theological education and identity formation?
Situated Learning and Communities of Practice
It is suggested that situated learning theory has made a paradigm shift in the
study of learning, away from a traditional view of learning (Hughes, Jewson, and Urwin
2007, 2; DeCorte, Greer, and Verschaffel 1996, 491; Handley et al. 2006, 642; Huzzard 2004, 3-4). The traditional perspective understands learning as a cognitive and psychological process by focusing on what is going on in the mind of an individual learner. It is primarily concerned with a dyad relationship between teacher and learner, where the teacher as an expert transmits knowledge or skills to students. Knowledge is conceived of as “objective,” “uncontested,” abstract, and context-independent (Huzzard 2004, 3; Lave and Wenger 1991, 33). It can be codified and transmitted to learners so they can store and later retrieve it for use in different contexts. Learning takes place primarily as a result of teaching in a formal educational context.
The situated learning perspective provides a radical critique of, and an
alternative to, the traditional cognitive perspective on learning. In contrast to the traditional cognitive perspective, it views learning as a “collective,” “relational,” and “social” process, and takes a social group instead of an individual as a unit of analysis (Fuller 2007, 19). The dyad relationship between teacher and learner is decentered because knowledge resides in the shared practices of the community or the “lived-in world” (Lave and Wenger 1991, 91; Hughes, Jewson, and Urwin 2007, 3). Knowledge is no longer viewed as “abstract and symbolic”; it is not an entity or product that can be commodified to be acquired and moved from one place to another (Cobb and Bowers 1999, 642; Handley et al. 2006, 642). Instead, knowledge is largely tacit and is mediated and socially-constructed (Handley et al. 2006, 642; Huzzard 2004, 3; Lave and Wenger 1991). The meaning of knowledge is contextualized and negotiated through social interactions (Lave and Wenger 1991, 33). Learning, then, is inseparable from the social practices of a community and the contexts in which learning takes place (Brown, Collins, and Duguid 1989, 32; Lave and Wenger 1991, 31).
The notion of situated learning was developed and popularized by Lave and
Wenger’s ethnographic research on apprenticeship in different settings such as Yucatec
Mayan midwives in Mexico and Vai and Gola tailors in Liberia (Lave and Wenger 1991). However, it is not a new concept, but stands on the shoulders of several educational philosophers such as Rousseau, Dewey, Illich, Freire, and Vygotsky (Hughes, Jewson, and
Urwin 2007, 3). These theorists understood individuals as social beings and active learners. They considered learning to be more than the transmission of knowledge to the heads of learners, and did not confine learning to what takes place within the institution of the school.
Learning was understood as a social and interactive process among learners, integral to activities that they engage in, and situated in contexts which include an everyday lived world outside the formal educational context.
The concept of situated learning does not completely overlap with experiential
learning, “learning in situ,” or “learning by doing” (Lave and Wenger 1991, 31). The activity and context are not regarded as “ancillary to learning—pedagogically useful”
(Brown et al. 1989, 32). Rather, they are an “integral part of what is learned” (Brown et al.
1989, 32). Lave states,
There is a significant contrast between a theory of learning in which practice (in a narrow, replicative sense) is subsumed within processes of learning and in which learning is taken to be an integral aspect of practice (in a historical, generative sense). In our view, learning is not merely situated in practice— as if it were some independently reifiable process that just happened to be located somewhere; learning is an integral part of generative social practice in the lived-in world. (1999, 86)
In this sense, situated learning theory distinguishes itself not only from a cognitive perspective of learning but also to some extent from experiential learning theory, though some may categorize it as a branch of the latter (Fenwick 2003).
Core Concepts
Situated learning theory understands learning as “legitimate peripheral
participation in communities of practice” (Lave and Wenger 1991, 31). The following section briefly discusses core concepts of the theory: legitimate peripheral participation, communities of practice, practice, knowing versus knowledge, transferability versus generality, discourse, and identity.
Learning as Legitimate Peripheral Participation
Lave and Wenger explain learning using a concept of “legitimate peripheral
participation” in communities of practice (Lave and Wenger 1991; Wenger 1998). Learning begins when newcomers or novices are granted access to a community of practice and permission to observe and participate in various aspects of being members of the community. Learning is a process in which novices are moving from peripheral participation, through engagement in varied forms and degrees of participation, toward becoming full members of the community of practice. In order to move from peripheral participation to enjoying full membership of the community, it is critical to have access to an extensive range of practices, old-timers, other members, resources, information, a repertoire of discourses, and opportunities for participation (Lave and Wenger 1991, 101). Through participation and practice, novices not only learn how to practice, but also pick up the culture of the community, learn how to talk within the community, and adopt an identity and a sense of belonging.
Wenger later (1998, 154) elaborated different trajectories of participation,
after critics suggested that the initial model of the theory oversimplified newcomers’ participation by suggesting only one type of participation—that is, legitimate peripheral participation toward full membership (Fuller 2007, 25). “Unequal relations of power” may impede newcomers’ learning and movement toward full participation and lead them to trajectories other than movement toward full participation. Wenger and Lave, therefore, were initially critiqued for offering insufficient elaboration of how social structures, diverse cultures, and conflicts involving dynamics of power influence learning, mode of participation, and identity formation of members in the community (Lave and Wenger 1991, 42; Contu and Willmott 2003, 294; Handley et al. 2006, 644; Fuller 2007, 20; Huzzard 2004, 4).
The issue is complex, however. In some cases, newcomers are positioned as
peripheral within the community as a result of being marginalized by powerful old-timers or other members. In other cases, newcomers position themselves as marginal and intentionally remain peripheral “by choice” because they do not aspire to participate fully in that particular community of practice for some reason (Wenger 1998, 154; Handley et al. 2006, 644). For instance, they might like to keep their ethnic identity while participating in a community of practice that embodies a mainstream workplace culture.
Communities of Practice
Wenger asserts that “community” and “practice” should be taken as a unit (1998, 72). Apart from a mere group of people or a network, in order for a community to be called a community of practice, the relations within that community need to satisfy three dimensions: “mutual engagement,” “a joint enterprise,” and “a shared repertoire” (Wenger 1998, 73). Wenger later redefined the three in different terms as “domain,” “community,” and “practice,” but the implications remain the same (2006). A group of people who share a domain of interest interact with one another; their engagement is centered on practice as a joint activity in carrying out their shared interest; and they develop and share a repertoire of the community of practice, which includes experiences, tools, resources, ways of doing, ways of addressing problems, stories, symbols, actions, concepts, and so on (Wenger 1998, 83; 2006).
The idea of communities of practice has been adopted in various fields,
including education, organization, and business, and has had an impact especially in the field of management, organizations, knowledge management, and organizational learning (Hughes, Jewson, and Urwin 2007, 2). However, the concept of “community of practice,” as Lave and Wenger acknowledge (1991, 42), is still an “intuitive notion” that requires further clarification and development. Hughes challenges that in presenting the understanding of learning as participation in communities of practice, Lave and Wenger vacillate between a descriptive, analytical, experiential notion of learning and a prescriptive model of learning (2007, 35-36). Moreover, it is to be noted that the neutral or nostalgic impression of the term “community” and its nuances of coherence and homogeneity, often have a disguising effect on “micro-political” factors within a community (Wenger 1998, 75; Huzzard 2004, 2).
In addition, Fuller and other scholars point out that some aspects of the idea of
communities of practice remain ambiguous. Those areas are: (1) understanding how to draw the “socio-spatial boundaries” of communities of practice (Fuller 2007, 21); (2) explaining transformation instead of reproduction and continuity within communities of practice (Fuller 2007, 22; Hughes et al. 2007); (3) understanding learning through participating in or crossing multiple communities of practice beyond a single community of practice (Fuller and Unwin 2003; Fuller 2007, 26; Handley et al. 2006, 650); and (4) providing a more concrete understanding of the micro, meso, and macro levels of the context, as well as the influences of a broader historical, social, cultural, and institutional context within which the community is positioned (Fuller 2007, 27; Wenger 1998, 79).
Practice
Wenger suggests that practice is the source of coherence for the relation
within a community of practice (1998, 72):
A community of practice is not merely a community of interest—people who like certain kinds of movies, for instance. Members of a community of practice are practitioners. They develop a shared repertoire of resources: experiences, stories, tools, ways of addressing recurring problems—in short a shared practice. This takes time and sustained interaction. (Wenger 2006)
The central concept of practice in communities of practice is the fact that it is “social practice” (Wenger 1998, 47). Practice lies in a socio-historical context in which people negotiate, construct, and reconstruct the meaning of what they do (Wenger 1998, 47). However, an ambiguity lies in how to define a “social practice.” For instance, Greeno (1997) claims that when an activity is done by an individual alone, without social interaction with others, the activity can be still considered one’s participation in social practice because every activity is both social and individual (1997, 9).
Practice has a rich meaning that encompasses both the explicit and the tacit in
the community of practice. According to Wenger (1998, 47),
Such a concept of practice includes both the explicit and the tacit. It includes what is said and what is left unsaid; what is represented and what is assumed. It includes the language, tools, documents, images, symbols, well-defined roles, specified criteria, codified procedures, regulations and contracts that various practices make explicit for a variety of purposes. But it also includes all the implicit relations, tacit conventions, subtle cues, untold rules of thumb, recognizable intuitions, specific perceptions, well-tuned sensitivities, embodied understanding, underlying assumptions, and shared world views. Most of these may never be articulated, yet they are unmistakable signs of membership in communities of practice and are crucial to the success of their enterprises.
With this comprehensive understanding of practice, Wenger challenges the long-established dichotomies between theory and practice, knowing and acting, and abstract and concrete by arguing that “the process of engaging in practice always involves the whole person” (1998, 47-48; see also Lave 1988, 171). Based on this understanding of practice, learning is more aligned with socialization and apprenticeship.
“Knowing” and “Generality” vs. “Knowledge” and “Transfer”
Lave and Wenger stress that learning involves the “whole person” rather than “receiving a body of factual knowledge about the world”; learning or knowing are situated activities, “activity in and with the world; and the knower (agent), knowing or learning (activity) and the known (the world) mutually construct each other (1991, 33). This understanding is rooted in social constructivism and is based on the claim that cognition is situated in “socially and culturally structured time and space” (Lave 1988, 171; and see also Brown, Collins, and Duguid 1989). This notion emerged in the late 1970s as psychologists came to recognize that there is a discrepancy between a person’s cognitive capacity displayed in an activity organized in a laboratory setting and that displayed in an everyday familiar setting (Rogoff 1999, 1-2). Through cross-cultural studies, the importance of the role of culture and context has been affirmed, not only for a child’s cognitive development (Rogoff 1982; Rogoff 1999) and mental structure, but also for personal epistemology (Khine 2008).
In addition to the situated nature of cognition, it is argued that knowledge is
situated and that “what is learned” cannot be separated from “how it is learned,” which includes activity and the context in which the activity is embedded (Brown, Collins, and Duguid 1989, 32). Brown et al. explain that all knowledge shares similar characteristics with language or tools, in that the meaning of a concept is negotiated and reconstructed through the activity of using it in different contexts of time and space (1989, 33). It is absurd to acquire a tool or a vocabulary but not learn how to use it in a real situation. For this reason, the situated learning perspective prefers to use the term “knowing,” highlighting the process, rather than “knowledge,” since the former avoids the nuance of knowledge as an abstract representation or a factual, decontextualized entity (Lave and Wenger 1991; Cobb and Bowers 1999, 33; Greeno 1997, 11).
The main debates between the cognitive perspective and the situated
perspective revolve around issues of knowledge transfer and generality, the boundness of knowledge to specific situations, the value of abstract instruction, and the effectiveness of learning in school (Anderson, Reder, and Simon 1997, 18). The most fundamental questions that entangle other issues in the debate seem to be whether or not knowledge transfers, and whether knowledge learned in a school setting can be generalized to be used in different contexts. According to Anderson et al. and Greeno, both the cognitive perspective and the situative perspective confirm generality of knowledge but use different terms (Anderson et al. 1997; Greeno 1997). Instead of the term “knowledge transfer,” which is used in the cognitive perspective, the situated perspective uses the term “generality of knowing.” The more important question, then, is how this happens and how learning abstract knowledge through instruction at school can serve students better in diverse contexts outside of school. On the one hand, the concept of knowledge transfer from the cognitive perspective implies that “learning is the acquisition of structures that are stored in memory” and are “retrieved and applied in new circumstance” (Greeno 1997, 12). On the other hand, the concept of “generality of knowing” from the situated perspective implies that learners gradually grasp how their learning in one context is related to other contexts and, as a result of knowing, become more mature participants and learners in various meaningful social contexts and activities (Greeno 1997, 9). In the latter perspective, knowing refers to “regular patterns in someone’s participation in interactions with other people and with material and representational systems” (Greeno 1997, 11). The activity of knowing and one’s identity are linked.
Identity
Identity construction is an essential aspect of learning. Lave and Wenger
claim that learning and a sense of identity are dimensions of “the same phenomenon” (1991,
115). Learners move through a “succession of forms of participation” and their identities “form trajectories both within and across communities of practice” (Wenger 1998, 154). Among those trajectories are as such: a trajectory that a learner remains peripheral, never leading to full participation, a trajectory which leads to future full membership, a trajectory that continues to evolve and negotiate within the community of practice, and a trajectory that crosses and connects different communities of practice. Learning involves progression of identity as learners follow different trajectories of participation in communities of practice (Greeno 1997, 9). Even the peripheral form of participation may have a essential impact on identity formation (Wenger 1998, 155).
Learners become different persons in systems of social relations within and
across communities of practice because their learning involves explicit and implicit practices, discourses, ways of thinking and doing, cultural cues, roles, norms, and so on. Cain’s case study on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) illustrates how learning involves identity construction and transformation. She states,
This paper is about becoming an alcoholic. It is not about drinking; rather it is about learning not to drink. The change these men and women have undergone is much more than a change in behavior. It is a transformation of their identities, from drinking non-alcoholics to non-drinking alcoholics, and it affects how they view and act in the world. It requires not only a particular understanding of the world, but a new understanding of their selves and their lives, and a reinterpretation of their own past. (Cain 1991, 210)
Transforming the ways in which they saw themselves and viewed the world was a critical learning process. In the study, the medium used in the reconstruction of the alcoholics’ identity was personal story. Lave and Wenger (1991, 79-84) point out from Cain’s study that learning how to use the medium—that is, how to tell stories—is not taught by instruction but is learned by participating in social relationships, discourses, and practices among oldtimer alcoholics and other members within the AA community in relation to the larger society (Cain 1991, 181-184).
Discourse
As they articulate the situated learning theory based on five cases of social
anthropological studies, Lave and Wenger observed that the apprenticeships demonstrated in those studies involved little explicit teaching, but more learning (1991, 92). Based on this observation, they differentiate a learning curriculum from a teaching curriculum. The learning curriculum “consists of situated opportunities” that facilitate the development of new practice and “a field of learning resources in everyday practice” perceived by learners (Lave and Wenger 1991, 91). A teaching curriculum is mediated, directed, and limited by a teacher’s goal and instruction and a teacher’s external view of what proper practice and knowledge is about; a learning curriculum is “situated” in a community of practice and is based on emerging opportunities of observing, practicing, and participating in ongoing activities and social relations in the community of practice (Lave and Wenger 1991, 93-97).
Lave and Wenger make a similar distinction concerning the kinds of discourse
used in the teaching curriculum and the learning curriculum. If the discourse used in the former is characterized by “talking about a practice from outside,” the discourse used in the latter is “talking within” a community of practice (Lave and Wenger 1991, 107). Jordan’s study (1989), based on ethnographic research with Maya midwives in Yucatan, shows that the discourse and stories used to train midwives in the indigenous setting were different from the formal instruction used in other parts of the world. Jordan states that the stories are “packages of situated knowledge” and that “to acquire a store of appropriate stories and, even more importantly, to know what are appropriate occasions for telling them, is then part of what it means to become a midwife” (1989, 935). Therefore, the use of discourse in situated learning is not a pedagogical means of abstract knowledge transfer. Rather than learning from talk, novices are “learning to talk” in accordance with the identity, culture, and practice of the community of practice—an integral aspect of learning through legitimate peripheral participation (Lave and Wenger 1991, 109).
Contribution of Situated Learning Perspective on Learning
It is noticeable that situated learning theory brings balance back into the swing
by adding its contributions to what has been studied and developed from cognitive, psychological perspectives. In a sense, it provides an appropriate ground for moving toward a comprehensive understanding of learning (Greeno 1997, 15). First, it does so by challenging taken-for-granted epistemological and educational philosophical assumptions about knowledge, teaching and learning, learners, schooling, and the educational context. As Greeno elucidates, significant differences between cognitive perspectives and situative perspectives do not come at the level of claims and empirical evidences; rather, they are fundamentally different in their presuppositions (1997, 15). For the latter, it is social constructivism. Negotiation and construction of meaning and identity become an essential aspect of learning. Second, the idea of legitimate peripheral participation sheds light on the perpetual issue of classic dichotomies in education—dichotomies between mind and body, theory and practice, individual and social, individual autonomy and agency and social interaction, and so on (Lave 2008, 284). Third, it provides balance by redirecting the focus of research from teaching to learning and by broadening the traditional educational mode and context beyond the formal education context to include workplaces and the everyday-lived social world. Finally, situated learning theory has brought a renewed attention to identity in the educational field, and provided an alternative perspective on identity construction and negotiation (Handly et al. 2006, 644). However, a perceived knowledge gap in linking situated learning theory to theories of identity construction requires more elaboration (Handly et al. 2007, 644).
Theological Education in Need of an Educational Framework
While problems and challenges of the current theological education in the West—and other countries whose theological education is modeled after the West—have been identified and agreed upon, the discussion has not seemed to move forward. In terms of implementing changes, many major challenges are likely to be practical ones. However, another challenge seems to be the lack of a theoretical framework of education to help theological educators, administrators, pastors, and stakeholders envision theological education with a fresh perspective that takes into critical consideration their taken-forgranted notions of the nature of knowledge, knowing, teaching and learning processes, forms of education, and the relationship between theory and practice.
The situated learning perspective offers valuable insights in response to
ongoing dissatisfaction with the dominant model of theological education in South Korea and the West—that is, an institutionalized schooling model that shares many common characteristics of professional education. Criticisms about the dominant model of theological education vary widely, but include concerns that it is becoming a clerical paradigm rather than offering theological education for all believers; that it is modeled after the German research university, which fosters scientia over sapientia; that it perpetuates a dichotomy between theory and practice; and that it offers a curriculum characterized as fragmented, abstract, and decontextualized rather than integrated and relevant to the context of the church (Wheeler 1991; Cannell 2006; Hough and Cobb 1985; Farley 1983; Farley 1988; Kelsey 1993).
Cannell summarizes the influential factors in history that have shaped the
prevailing model of higher education and theological education, arguing that institutionalism, rationalism, and professionalism have shaped the nature of knowledge, the nature and role of theology in the academy, and the nature of theological education (2006, 44-101). Cannell, along with many others, points out that theology has become one of the academic disciplines in universities and is understood as a body of abstract rational knowledge divided into four categories—biblical, historical, systematic, and practical theology. Knowing God has become equivalent to learning about beliefs and gaining abstract knowledge, and has become separable from affect, wisdom, disposition, obedience, and context. Theology is taught within the four walls of a seminary, separated from the identity, context, and real issues of the life of the church and from society.
The above issues in theological education seem to some extent compatible
with the radical criticisms that situated learning theory makes against cognitive perspectives on learning. As Cannell states, theological education is “a two-fold concept” that contains both “the nature of theology and the nature of education” (2005, 36). As far as the latter is concerned-- although the two are intertwined, the situated learning perspective seems to provide a broader and multidimensional grid which can be used to improve theological education through the understanding of the learning experiences of theological students within and across contexts of theological education.
The following points can illustrate what we mean by a broader and multi-
dimensional grid to understand students’ learning experience of theological education. First, the situated learning perspective recognizes that the nature of the knowledge and practice taught and arranged in classrooms and schools is shaped by the distinct nature of the schooling context. It reminds us of the importance of authentic practices embedded in real contexts in theological education. Brelsford and Rogers state, “The seminary classroom, as it turns out, is a very particular (and some might say peculiar) context, which shapes learning in very particular ways” (2008, 8). Knowing, as understood in the situated learning perspective, is more congruent with the Hebraic notion of knowing as inseparable from affect, relation, experience, and action (Cannell 2006).
Second, the situated learning perspective directs our attention to another
important mode of teaching—apprenticeship rather than formal instruction—and to other important contexts for theological education that go beyond the four walls of the theological school. If learning is not necessarily or sufficiently a product of explicit teaching in the formal educational institution (Wenger 1998), but is an integral part of practice in a community of practice, then theological educators must take into account the ways in which students negotiate their social and cultural positions and participate in social interactions within and across communities of practice in the context of church, academy, and society (Brelsford and Rogers 2008).
Goals or outcomes of learning in theological education are also reexamined if
learning is seen from a situated learning perspective. Assessment of learning outcomes becomes more than assessment of a body of beliefs and propositions or a set of skills acquired for the purpose of applying them in future professional ministry contexts. Moreover, a question is raised concerning what needs to be changed if learning in theological education is to involve the whole person. This type of learning would include transformation of identities, development of ways of perceiving, thinking, and acting in a community of practice (whether a congregation or a community of pastors at church), and maturation in ways of participating in various practices in different contexts, in accordance with the identity.
“Educating Clergy”
Foster, Dahill, Golemon, and Tolentino directed and conducted research on
seminary education as professional education (2006). One of the theoretical frameworks of the empirical study was Lave and Wenger’s view of learning as “increasing participation in communities of practice” (Foster et al. 2006, 27, 350; Lave and Wenger 1991, 50). Foster and his associates appreciated and utilized this view of learning because it went beyond dominant “theory-to-practice epistemologies” in the teaching and learning process and beyond formal, distant educational relationships between teachers and students in professional education settings (Foster et al. 2006, 350).
The problem statement used while conducting the research was, “How do
seminary educators foster among their students a pastoral, priestly, or rabbinic imagination that integrates knowledge and skill, moral integrity, and religious commitment in the roles, relationships, and responsibilities they will be assuming in clergy practice?” (Foster et al.
2006, 12) Foster and his associates had four research questions (2006, 12-15):
(1) What classroom and communal pedagogies do seminary educators employ as they seek to foster in their students a pastoral imagination?
(2) How do the various historic traditions of clergy education perpetuated in seminaries’ missions and institutional cultures influence the classroom and communal pedagogies and students’ experience?
(3) Does clergy education have a “signature” classroom pedagogy, distinctive to it among the professions?
(4) How does clergy education emphasize and integrate the cognitive, practical, and normative apprenticeships of professional education?
The use of the term “a pastoral imagination” underscores the importance of the congruence between what teachers help students to imagine and expect for the clergy’s role and life through their educational experience in seminary, on the one hand, and what students would experience in the true field after graduation on the other. The research was conducted by a review of literature; a survey of faculty, students, and alumni from eighteen Jewish and Christian seminaries; interviews with faculty, students, and administrations; observation of classes; and participation in the community life at ten out of the eighteen seminaries (Foster et al. 2006, 15).
Foster et al. found four “signature pedagogies of theological education” that
theological educators use to prepare students for their identity, roles, and responsibilities as pastors: pedagogies of interpretation, pedagogies of formation, pedagogies of contextualization, and pedagogies of performance (2006, xii). They also found that what is critical in cultivating a pastoral imagination in students is seminary educators’ understanding of the relationship between theology, epistemology, and pedagogy in their teaching practices—and, based on the understanding, the ways in which they align those four signature pedagogies and model and coach students into learning how to integrate intellect, piety, truth, faith, skill, and practice (Foster el al. 2006).
Connecting to the Research Concern
Connecting theory to the concern of this study, North Korean defector
theological students’ pursuit of theological education in South Korea implies their entering and participating as newcomers in various learning contexts—in other words, communities of practice as contexts of theological education. How do consultants acquire admission to various communities of practice and access to learning by participation in different practices? Are there factors that facilitate or impede their learning, mediated through social interactions and cultural tools? As they participate, they bring their habits of mind and points of view into the communities: their own ways of seeing the world, ways of learning, personal epistemic beliefs, social norms and ethical standards, ideological or religious beliefs, and ways of feeling and acting, all of which have been shaped by their culture, society, history, and biography. This means that their learning experience may involve a process in which they negotiate their habits of mind, meaning, and identity. How do they negotiate? Is their learning experience characterized by socialization, assimilation, reciprocal enculturation, or transformation? How do the learning experiences of theological education reflect the learning of knowledge, identities, practices, ways of perceiving, thinking, talking, and doing that are situated in different communities of practice involved in theological education, such as study groups in classrooms of theological schools, affinity groups according to ministry interests, pastoral staffs and congregations in churches, and other social interactions across organizations or communities?
Negotiation and Reconstruction of Identity and Positioning
The third theoretical framework for this study concerns negotiation and
reconstruction of identity and positioning in relation to learning. Based on Vygotsky’s theory, which suggests three forms of mediation in education (tools, signs and symbols, and social interaction), the situated learning perspective proposes that knowledge, cognition, and learning are situated activities mediated through social interactions in context (Lave and Wenger 1991; Brown et al. 1989). However, as mentioned above, Lave and Wenger do not sufficiently elaborate on tensions and power dynamics among participants in a community of practice, and the process by which learning is mediated through social interactions is still in need of further elaboration. For instance, Panofsky points out that the mediation of “the dynamics of power, position, social location in the social interaction of learning” and the dynamics of social class in formal education are areas greatly in need of unpacking (2003, 411). It is important to understand the relationship among micro, meso, and macro levels of the historical, sociocultural, and institutional context and social structure within which learners are positioned (Fuller 2007, 27; Wenger 1998, 79).
Educators and scholars, especially in multicultural education, point out that an
educational context is a complex and contestable site where meaning, points of view, identities, social and cultural positions, and practices of teachers, learners, and stakeholders are negotiated, transformed, or reconstructed (Li 2006). The following section incorporates literature from relevant theories on positioning, social capital, postmodern identity, and identity work or identity negotiation and construction through narrative. These bodies of literature lay a necessary ground for understanding the learning experiences of North Korean defector theological students in South Korea.
Definition of Identity and Identity and Learning
A dialectic relationship between learning and the sociocultural context in
which learning takes place—or, an interaction between school and society—is important but complex to grasp and articulate (Sfard and Prusak 2005, 15; Gee 2000, 99). Replacing the static categories of class, race, and gender, identity is regarded as a key concept that can bridge between learning and its sociocultural context (Sfard and Prusak 2005, 15), as well as an “analytic tool” for understanding cultural, institutional, and social forces and education (Gee 2005, 99). In addition, others have studied identity as an integral aspect of learning in professional development and practice (Jurasaite-Harbison 2005; Søreide 2006).
Scholars signify that all learning involves identity negotiation, construction,
and representation (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 233; Lave and Wenger 1999; Sfard and Prusak 2005). Identity affects learning because identity shapes how people make sense of the reality and their experiences, interpret texts, and engage in subjects of study (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 228). However, learning also affects identity, because learning or education is seen as the only way to narrow the gap between actual identities and designated identities. Designated identities often refer to identities that are imposed by others who hold positions of power and authority. Narratives that construct such designated identities determine that a certain state of affairs is expected to be the case for a person or group (Sfard and Prusak 2005, 18).
It is important to have an operational definition of identity in order to use the
concept in research, but scholars indicate that defining identity has been a difficult task. In this study, we begin with Gee’s general definition of identity. He defines identity as “being recognized as a certain kind of person,” in a given context (2000, 99). Gee does not deny essentialists’ notion of a core identity that does not change in spite of the vicissitudes of time and place, but in educational research he finds it helpful to work with a more fluid dimension of identity, focusing on particularity of time and context, human action or performance, and individual agency (2000, 99).
In understanding identity, this study embraces postmodern emphases on
discourse and social interactions. Anzaldua contends that “we are clusters of stories we tell ourselves and others tell about us” (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 231). This is not just to say that stories represent who we are; rather, it is to say that the stories we tell are our identities (Somers 1994; McAdams et al. 2006). It means that who we are is presented, constructed, enacted, and performed by stories. In other words, it is understood that stories have an ontological dimension in which, through our own narrativization, we enact or construct and perform our identities in relationships (Sfard and Prusak 2005; Somers 1994). Having incorporated this understanding of identity, one’s sense of identity continues to be significant to how one perceives the world, makes sense of events, and defines his or her way of being or acting in the world.
Postmodern Understanding of Identity
Identity is a vital concept in various fields beyond psychology, including
cultural anthropology, sociology, linguistics, and education (Holland and Lachicotte 2007). Vygotsky’s cultural historical perspective has influenced current sociocultural research on identity across disciplines (Holland and Lachicotte 2007). Many perceive a demarcation pertaining to understandings of identity between the era of modernity and the era of postmodernity. This is often portrayed as a distinction between an Eriksonian approach to identity and a postmodern approach to identity. According to Erikson, when someone has realized and felt certain that he or she has or achieved identity, two things are clearly sensed by the person: a “subjective sense of an invigorating sameness and continuity” (1968, 161). The subjective sense of continuity and coherence is a sense of identity as Erikson understands it. Erikson’s notion of identity is concerned with a coherence and continuity of self that is maintained throughout the life course of the person, and he sees achieving such a sense of identity as beneficial for the psychological wellbeing of the person.
Postmodern, post-structuralist, and postcolonialist approaches to identity
appear to be different from what is understood to be Erikson’s or the essentialists’ approach to identity. The change in the conception of identity between the modern era and the postmodern era has to do with changes in context. Gergen (1991) depicts well the changing postmodern context in which identity is construed differently. Technological developments in transportation, communication, media, and other areas have pulled people together and brought diverse cultures, peoples, and ideas into contact. Gergen states that the prevailing phenomena of accumulated technologies have changed everyday experiences of the self and others. As a result, people sense the self as a socially-saturated self, embedded in “an everwidening array of relationships,” and as “a strategic manipulator” in the postmodern world. In the modern world, people sense a firm, centered self in close relationships and within communities (1991, 217).
Others have also recognized historical and contextual factors—such as
globalization and massive migrations in the postcolonial world—that have influenced the postmodern understanding of identity (De Fina, Schiffrin, and Bamberg 2006; Hall 1996; Baynham 2006; Linger 2005). Globalization and transnational migration have invalidated the common anthropological assumption that, for example, “the Korean,” living “in Korea” has “Korean culture” (Linger 2005, 188). Linger claims that as a result of these global phenomena, “identities” have become “scrambled” and “unsettled” and cultures have become
“itinerant” and “hybrid” (2005, 188-189).
Such changes in context make it difficult to construe identity with traditional,
static categories. Bhabha (1994) argues that instead of working in “primary conceptual and organizational categories” such as gender, class, and nationality, the discussion of identity needs to focus on various “subject positions” that construct elements of identity. Postcolonial studies, Bhabha claims, move beyond a simplistic sense of authenticity in the sense of origin and beyond initial subjectivity and singularities (1994, 1). Instead, they pay attention to the “third space” or “in-between” space and the process or moments in which cultural differences are articulated, people exchange and negotiate their social-cultural differences, meanings, and values, and a new cultural hybridity or a new identity emerges (Bhabha 1994, 1-2).
Having a sense of identity, then, is also different from having a subjective
feeling of coherence and sameness. Chambers states that unsettlement, disorientation, disturbance, and movement describe culture and identity in postcolonial studies, and also capture the experiences of a more general population beyond postcolonial diasporas and migrants in a narrow sense (1994). He says, “The migrant’s sense of being rootless, or living between worlds, between a lost past and a non-integrated present, is perhaps the most fitting metaphor of this (post) modern condition. This underlines the themes of diaspora, not only black, also Jewish, Indian, Islamic, Palestinian, and draws us into the processes whereby the previous margins now fold in on the center” (Chambers 1994, 27).
Postmodern studies are appreciated for their attention to marginal groups
whose voices or perspectives have not been reckoned. Cohen shows how globalization, massive free migration, and refugees have brought marginal groups into the center and how these groups’ presence and co-existence with us make a difference in our ways of thinking about “home” and “identity” (1997, 134). He raises important questions about identities in general and the sentiments of diasporas and refugees in particular:
What is home? What is exile? Are there any essential elements of a national culture left intact? Do the expressions East and West, North and South still mean anything? Can migrants ever call their places of settlement a home? Is “home” still one’s natality or even one’s parent’s natality? Does one live in perpetual state of liminality? Can one, to be more flippant, surmount the issue of placement and displacement by devising a new slogan: “It does not matter where you’re from, or where you’ve come to, but where you’re at?” (Cohen 1997, 134)
It seems that one’s identity pertains to an ongoing process of becoming more
than it pertains to origin. Identity is fluid. In the same train of thought, Hall points out, “actually identities are about questions of using the resources of history, language, and culture in the process of becoming rather than being” (1996, 4). Identity is no longer viewed as a stable essence inside a person; rather, it is seen as constantly changing in construction and reconstruction as individuals interact with history, different individuals, and groups and cultures. Therefore the final stage or form of identity achievement is undefined. Hall’s description captures well the postmodern idea of identity by contrasting it with an essentialist’s notion of identity:
The concept of identity deployed here is therefore not an essentialist, but a strategic and positional one. This concept of identity does not signal that stable core of the self, unfolding from beginning to end through all the vicissitudes of history without change; the bit of the self which remains always-already ‘the same’, identical to itself across time. Nor … is it that ‘collective or true self hiding inside the many other, more superficial or artificially imposed “selves” which a people with a shared history and ancestry hold in common’(Hall 1990) and which can stabilize, fix or guarantee an unchanging ‘oneness’ or cultural belongingness underlying all the other superficial differences. (Hall 1996, 3-4)
Hall argues that the contemporary historical context has developed a view of identity that depicts multiple, fragmented, problematic, constantly changing selves in particular times and places, rather than a singular, unified, coherent self that remains the same in all circumstances (1996, 3-4).
In summary, postmodern identity is characterized by: (1) the importance of “subjective positions” rather than singular authentic categories such as gender, ethnicity, and nationality; (2) a process of “becoming,” characterized by fluidity and openness to change, rather than a state of being characterized by continuity and coherence of an essential core; (3) “hybridity” of “as well as” and “in-between” spaces where different cultures and values are negotiated rather than a “collective, true self” that is a result of sharing a history, ancestry, culture, and origin with a group of people; and (4) negotiation of one’s strategic social positioning and improvisation as well as the defining influence of cultural surroundings.
Relevance of the Postmodern Identity Framework
In various respects, the postmodern understanding of identities seems to
provide a helpful framework to view the ways in which North Korean defectors in general, and consultants in particular, negotiate and construct their identities in the presence of others in South Korea. Instead of choosing one particular form of identity—whether race, gender, or class—and discovering which identity consultants have and what the final form of an achieved identity looks like, this inquiry will adopt the postmodern notion of identity’s focus on subject positions, the process of identity construction, and human action. This perspective is more suitable to enrich our understanding of consultants’ identity construction taking place in the South Korean context.
Moreover, the consultants’ experiences—including such unsettling
experiences as living for a time as refugees in foreign countries and relocation in South
Korea—are to some degree held in common with many who live in postmodern contexts. Similar to Kim’s hermeneutical analysis of East Germans’ orientation and reconstruction of old East German identities after reunification as part of their struggle to adapt to the globalized world (2006), North Korean defectors’ experience in South Korea is partially congruent with the experiences of diasporas as they construct multiple identities and adjust to a new, rapidly changing context.
The postmodern understanding of identity is inseparable from the
contemporary focus on the identities of previously marginalized groups (Lather 1994, 56). Somers contends that new theoretical discourses are required if the experiences of marginalized groups are to be heard fairly (1994, 610). The voices of marginal groups cannot be properly heard by simply applying existing theories that were developed based on the dominant group (often middle-class white males), nor is it helpful to modify those theories’ structures to create new rigid universal categorizations for these groups. Moreover, scholars find that the postmodern notion of fluid and socially constructed identities is seen as empowering. Contrary to the modern essentialist notion of identity, which assigns individuals or groups rigid categories and labels, the postmodern understanding leaves room for negotiation and reinterpretation between designated identities and actual identities in an educational context or in general (Søreide 2006, 544; McCarthey and Moje 2002; Sfard and
Prusak 2005).
This postmodern framework of identity is also relevant because it brings
particularity or historicity into the discussion of identity construction (Somers 1994). The concern of this study is not to discover a universal, ahistorical, or core identity of North Korean defector theological students and graduates. Rather, the study focuses on understanding how these individuals speak, perform, and enact their identities as they constantly interact with their past, present, and future, interact with social others, and negotiate and construct their identities as an integral aspect of their learning to become pastors or Christian leaders in the context of theological education in South Korea.
This study does not, however, intend to reject essentialists’ notion of core
identity in order to utilize postmodernists’ notion of fluid identities. The postmodern notion of the discursive and embedded identity and the modern notion of the self-authoring reflective agent both seem more useful if we seek to understand how identity is affected and formed by social, cultural, or institutional contexts, how a person embodies his or her identity (among multiple identities) in a particular social context, and what it means to represent oneself in a certain way in a certain context (Jurasaite-Harbison 2005, 164). Holland’s perspective on identities is helpful here. Her attention is given to the development of identities and human agency by focusing on action and practice, which are “situated in historically contingent, socially enacted, culturally constructed ‘world’” (1998, 7). Holland attempts to integrate and move beyond cultural studies’ notion of identity and social constructivists’ subject positions by introducing notions of dialogic authoring selves, improvisation, and heuristic development based on the ideas of Bakhtin, Vygotsky, and
Bourdieu (Holland 1998, 7).
Narrative Construction of Identities
The idea of narrative, telling stories, and narrative inquiry has received
increasing attention in diverse disciplines of literature (Bruner 1990; Rosenwald and Ochberg 1992; Sarbin 1986; Pavlenko 2001). In this phenomenon, narrative is perceived not as a simple activity of recounting what happened in the past, but as a meaning-making process by which people make sense of and interpret events that took place in their lives and make their own actions intelligible to others (Polkinghorn 1996; Bruner 1990; Sarbin 1986; MacIntyre 2007; Fisher 1984).
Narrative theorists indicate that telling a story is not an individual activity, but
ultimately a social, collective practice. Stories embody cultural values, social norms, and histories or traditions of the context or the community. Based on Sarbin’s depiction of “a story-shaped world” (1993), Clark states, “We live in a narrative-saturated world” inundated by “folklore, myth, popular culture (carried by modalities such as movies, television, YouTube, music, and the like), social scripts, religious traditions and parables, political discourses, history, literature” and so on (2010, 4). These stories are embedded in sociocultural historical contexts. In a retrospective process of sense-making through narration, people utilize available cultural narratives and this provides plausibility and legitimacy for the meaning that they are making before audiences who hear their stories
(Polkinghorn 1996, 88; Linde 1993). Listeners and speakers are coauthoring narratives.
Psychologists have observed that the stories people tell are their personal
identities (Bruner 1990; Bruner 2002; McAdams 1993; McAdams, Josselson, and Lieblich 2006; Polkinghorn 1996). Sociolinguistic studies have recognized and explored the relationship between discourse and identity (De Fina, Schiffrin, and Bamberg 2006, 2). In De Fina, Schiffrin, and Bamberg’s analysis of the processes of categorization and membership definition, and in the perspective of the recent sociolinguistic studies, identities are not simply represented in discourse, but are also “performed, enacted and embodied” in various linguistic and non-linguistic ways (2006, 2-4).
Likewise, from a sociological perspective, Somers explains that recent
approaches to narrative go beyond a representational mode (1994, 606). Narrative and narrativity are defined as “concepts of social epistemology and social ontology,” in that people know, understand, and construe their lived world and construct their social identities by being positioned and positioning themselves in social narratives (Somers 1994, 606). For that reason, Somers argues that “linking the concepts of narrative and identity generate a historically constituted approach to theories of social action, agency, and identity” (1994, 613).
For instance, De Fina’s study of Mexican undocumented workers in the United States explores their collective identity representation, negotiation, and construction by looking at how they weave a variety of voices into their storytelling (2006, 356). Such identity work involves making sense of, contesting, or interacting with ideologies and beliefs that are attached to the social categorization or label of “being Hispanic”—which they did not choose—and with the implications of belonging to the social group (De Fina 2006, 353354). Holland points out that Bakhtin’s notion of “self-authoring” is dialogic, social, collective, and historically specific in that he was conscious of stratification, status, power, and worldview and values in social language, speech, and constitution of meaning and identity (Holland 1998, 177).
While the self should not be reduced entirely to an effect of power and
identities as performative (Mckenzie 2008, 16), it should also be recognized that the notion of narrative performance indicates that identity work is “a site of struggle over personal and social identity rather than the acts of a self with a fixed, unified, stable, or final essence which serves as the origin or accomplishment of experience” (Langellier 2001, 151). Identity is managed socially and influenced not only by micro-politics but also by macrosocial structures and historical contexts.
Furthermore, identity construction is a social process because it has to do with
ideologies and worldviews. McAdams states,
In order to know who I am, I must first decide what I believe to be true and good, false and evil about the world in which I live. To understand myself fully, I must come to believe that the universe works in a certain way, and that things about the world, about society, about God, about the ultimate reality of life, are true. Identity is built upon ideology. (1993, 81)
Identity is constructed upon what people believe about the world and about truth. Similarly, people’s narrative construction of self embodies what they believe to be an ideal, good, socially acceptable life (Mackenzie 2008, 16). Whether such beliefs are derived from philosophy, religion, social perception, ideology, culture, or everyday discourses that circulate within institutions or communities, they influence people’s stories about who they are.
Stories are also open, constituted and reconstituted in history through
reflection and reinterpretation and through counter-stories (Mackenzie 2008, 16; Nelson 2001, 151). So, then, are the identities constructed by narratives.
Narrative as a Critical Tool for the Marginal
The narrative construction of identity is a social as well as a discursive
process. In the process of identity construction, we pick up languages and stories that are circulated in history and society. We draw stories that others tell about us and about themselves from diverse sources, and make them our own (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 231; Sfard and Prusak 2005, 18; Gee 2000, 114). Issues of power and positioning are unavoidable in discussions of identity construction, since identities involve stories that others tell about us (Sfard and Prusak 2005).
Stories that people can tell to construct their identities are constrained by their
social positioning and their stories in the past; nevertheless, narrative is a critical tool for identity work by which people negotiate and reconstruct identities. Opsal’s point about marginalized individuals is particularly notable. Her study (2011) describes how women who were released from prison and returned to communities under the supervision of parole contested internalizing stigmatized identity narratives and reconstructed positive social identities through narrative. Opsal concludes that “narrative is a particularly powerful tool for marginalized individuals, like the women in this study, who might otherwise lack the political, financial, or social capital needed to do other forms of identity work” (2011, 138). It is especially for those who lack human capital, social capital, cultural capital, or economic capital that narrative is a critical tool to use for identity work. Through stories, they present and constitute socially acceptable and desirable identities in their social world.
Consultants in this study may differ in their power and capital to draw
resources and networks required for identity work, but they share the collective identity and meaning of being North Korean defectors in South Korea at this particular time in history. Listening to how they represent, perform, and (re)construct their identities through narratives shows how they make meaning of their past, present, and future, and provides accounts of consultants’ identity formation in relation to theological education and transformative learning.
Narrative and Learning
Recent adult education literature has begun to conceptualize how people learn
through narrative (Clark and Rossiter 2007; Clark and Rossiter 2008; Clark 2010).
Narrative learning theorists connect narrative to adult learning theories on two grounds. One is based on understanding narrative learning under the broader category of experiential learning alongside the situated perspective, the critical cultural perspective, and the transformative learning perspective; the other is based on the postmodern emphasis on meaning in the learning process. Clark states that storytelling is a “sense-making act” of “individuals situated in various social contexts” (2010, 3). Finding and constructing and reconstructing an acceptable and desirable life narrative that can make sense of and integrate different life events—such as significant transitions through the life span, role changes in a workplace, loss, and illness—is seen as an important aspect of adult development (Clark and Rossiter 2008, 62-63). Furthermore, it is not only meaning that is constructed and mediated by narrative, but also a person’s sense of who she or he is (Clark and Rossiter 2008, 62; Rosenwald and Ochberg 1992, 1). McAdams and his colleagues state, “we are all story tellers, and we are the stories we tell” (McAdams, Josselson, and Lieblich 2006, 3).
According to Clark and Rossiter, narrative learning takes place by “hearing
stories,” by “telling stories,” and by “recognizing stories” (Clark and Rossiter 2007; 2008; Clark 2010). In relation to transformative learning and narrative therapy, narrative learning involves the process in which people recognize narratives that they have internalized through dominant cultures in a family, institution, or larger society and recognize these narratives’ impact and power in their lives. It then proceeds to the process in which people search and construct new, alternative narratives that serve them better in understanding who they are, making sense of new roles, changes, life events, and guiding their actions (Corey 2009, 387395; Clark and Rossiter 2008; Clark 2010). In this sense, narrative learning is concerned with the prior experiences of learners and the larger social structures and historical contexts from which learners draw stories. Learning through stories can be transformative and emancipatory.
Positioning
Postmodern identity theories suggest that identities can be strategically chosen
and consciously represented, and that socially constructed identities or designated identities can be contested and changed. However, a concern is raised because it is suggested that one’s ability to work against those imposed identities is restrained by or dependent on one’s positionality in the society, the social or class structure that allows such identity work, and power. Positioning theory and capital theory speak for this concern.
When people interact with one another in a discursive context, they take up
positions and speak and act storylines. Positioning theory is a study of the mainly microlevel moral orders—consisting of rights, duties, and obligations—within which people position themselves or are positioned by others in their available choice of ways and contents of act and discourse (Harré and van Langenhove 1999, 1). The theory finds its roots in Bakhtin’s understanding of Dostoevsky’s polyphonic novel. The concept of positioning is a more dynamic alternative to the more “static” concept of role (Harré and van Langenhove 1999, 14; Davies and Harré 1990). This characterizes the theory as “discursive,” “dynamic,” and “social” (Raggatt 2007, 366). As David and Harré explain, through positioning “people are located in conversations as observably and subjectively coherent participants in jointly produced storyline” (1999, 37).
A position, then, is defined as “a complex cluster of generic personal
attributes, structured in various ways, which impinges on the possibilities of interpersonal, intergroup and even intrapersonal action through some assignment of such rights, duties and obligations to an individual as are sustained by the cluster” (Harré and van Langenhove 1999, 1). Positioning is a discursive process of telling personal stories by which one makes her or his actions comprehensible to others as social acts.
The theory offers a triad framework consisting of a position, speech act or
social force of an action, and storyline. Van Langenhove and Harré view the triad as “mutually determining” (1999, 17-18). Every conversation setting involves some kind of positioning, whether the positioning is deliberate or forced and whether it is self-positioning or positioning of others. For instance, in conversation, if one positions oneself as powerful, the other is positioned as powerless unless the latter contests not to be positioned as powerless. A situation in which a social science researcher asks questions to interviewees also involves a kind of positioning through the locus of control and an authoritarian attitude of the researcher (Harré and van Langenhove 1999, 29).
People in different settings become aware of available positions for them to
take up in interactions. These available positions are drawn from a repertoire of social and cultural narratives within which they can engage in a discursive practice of positioning and identity work by deciding which stories to tell and when and how to tell them. However, van Langenhove and Harré recognize that individuals’ capacities to take on ranges of positioning of themselves and others may differ for various reasons such as skills, willingness or intention, individual attributes, social powers derived from social orders and social capital, and culture with highly individualized or culturally stereotyped collective storylines (1999, 30).
While some scholars separate personal or reflexive positioning from social
positioning as different accounts (Harré and Langenhove 1999; Hermans 2001), Raggatt argues that such a distinction is not necessary because there is no longer a clear-cut distinction between the “individual” and the “social” or between the “self” and “culture”
(2007, 359). Personal positioning and social positioning are rather in a dialogic relationship (Raggatt 2007, 359). Similarly, Tan and Moghaddam (1995) show that personal or reflexive positioning is not merely intrapersonal but also a culturally-embedded practice. In other words, reflexive personal positioning reflects particular cultural ideals, includes particular dimensions that are relevant to a particular culture, and shares a culture’s preferred forms of telling autobiographies (Moghaddam and Tan 1995, 393; Moghaddam 1999).
Raggatt categorizes social positioning into three forms: (a) one is the “conversational/discursive” form of positioning, embedded in micro-interactions such as those at home, at work, and on the street; (b) another is embedded in institutional roles, micro- and macro-social prescriptions such as gender roles, class behaviors, and ethnicity stereotypes; and (c) the other is influenced by the effects of power differences caused by social dichotomies and status hierarchies (2007, 366). Identity studies employ the positioning theory as a micro-level framework because it offers an immanent and dynamic point of view to analyze identity practices and to look into concrete languages and discourses in use instead of imposing identity categories or essentializing subjects (Meadows 2009, 17; Davies and Harré 1990, 1). However, Raggatt’s underpinning of social positioning deals with more than micro-level interactions.
Halland argues that a human action is neither a mere product of one’s culture
nor a mere response that is subject to a situation and social power. Instead, it involves both, and it also involves improvisation (1998, 16). In the act of improvisation, people engage in critical appropriation and reinterpretation of cultural and social factors and present situations. They may authorize a new behavior and bring out a new “altered” subjectivity or identity for themselves and for the new generation (Holland 1998, 18).
In conclusion, the positioning theory is helpful in holding together both
individual agency and the influence of social forces and structures in explaining human actions and identity construction. The theory is often utilized in narrative construction of identity to explain how people use available subject positions drawn from a cultural and social repertoire or source of discourses to construct their identities—identities that are not only socially intelligible, but also desirable and meaningful. This theory provides a helpful framework to understand how North Korean defector theological students and graduates negotiate their intrapersonal voices, cultural repertoires, institutional stereotypes, and/or discourses of macro-social structures, and construct and reconstruct their identities in a discursive context.
Social Capital
In the above discussion of positioning, it is mentioned that individuals’
capacities for positioning themselves and others differ depending on various factors, including their social power drawn from social structure and social capital. Schuller, Baron, and Field argue that though social capital is not a fully developed concept, it has usefulness
in cross- and inter-disciplinary studies (2000, 35). In particular, the usefulness of the social capital theory is often explained in terms of the linking role in analysis. The concept facilitates understanding how the interplay of individual actions and institutional and social structures can be explained and how micro, meso, and macro levels of analysis can be linked (Schuller, Baron, and Field 2000, 35). An understanding of capital theories is needed as a linking theory between positioning theory in a narrow sense and narrative construction of identity.
Classic and Neo-Capitalist Theories
The concept of capital can trace its origin to Marx. Lin explains that the
classic theory of capital with a strong connection to Marx is based on class struggle between the exploiters’ class, which controls the means of production and gaining capital, and the laborers’ class, which is alienated from the capital (2001, 8). The neo-capital theory appeared around forty years later. In contrast to the classic theory, the neo-capitalist perspective holds that it is possible for laborers to become capitalists because education, training, skills, or experiences acquired by a laborer can constitute a form of capital that resides in the laborer and can be transformed into economic value (Lin 2001, 8-9). Therefore, the class distinction between the capitalists and laborers becomes a bit blurred, and laborers’ acts are interpreted in terms of their rational choice and purpose rather than an imposed purpose for the interest of the exploiting class (Lin 2001, 10). Neo-capitalists call this kind of capital, acquired through education and training and embedded in people, human capital.
Bourdieu and Cultural, Social, and Symbolic Capital
Bourdieu is one of the neo-capitalists. According to Lin, while Bourdieu’s
analysis differs from Marx in terms of his less rigid class differentiation and his focus on meso-structure and laborers more than macro-structures and labor or commodities (Lin 2001, 16), he still shares Marx’s concerns about the domination of the exploiters class and class reproduction. Bourdieu articulates various forms of capital such as economic, social, cultural, and symbolic capital (1986). Those forms of capital are associated with powers and tend to be recognized as legitimate. They are either immediately and directly convertible or convertible in certain conditions to money or economic capital, and they may be institutionalized in the form of property rights, educational qualifications, title of nobility, or recognition (Bourdieu 1986, 243).
One of the important concepts that Bourdieu employs is the idea of
dispositions or habitus of agents, “the mental structures through which they apprehend the social world,” which are fundamentally “the product of the internalization of the structures of that world” (Bourdieu 1989, 17-18). The dispositions acquired are compatible with one’s social position, a sense of one’s place in the society (Bourdieu 1989, 17–18). People are unable to see or access what is beyond their positions. For Bourdieu (1986), fields are social spaces where competition and negotiation for resources and powers, and access to them, take place. Symbolic capital is understood as a power of “world-making,” producing a common sense, naming the reality, categorizing and making groups, and especially monopolizing the dominant group’s “appreciation of the social world and its cognitive and evaluative structures” as legitimate (Bourdieu 1989, 20-23). This symbolic capital and implementation of forms of “performative discourse” presuppose symbolic power acquired through previous struggle (Bourdieu 1989, 23). Symbolic power is institutionalized and recognized by titles of nobility or diplomas from school system (Bourdieu 1989, 21).
In relation to the concept of cultural capital, the notion of “symbolic violence”
refers to the process of social reproduction in which the dominant group of a society imposes its culture through a pedagogic action of teaching the symbols and meanings of the dominant class (Lin 2001, 14). Through a pedagogic action, a means of symbolic violence, the dominant cultural values and dispositions are internalized by the next generation. People in the society do not recognize the symbols and meanings as part of dominant culture that supports the dominant class, but believe them to be their own culture (Lin 2001, 14-15). According to Bourdieu, this is how the dominant class and the privilege the dominant group enjoys are reproduced. Bourdieu’s term for an acquisition of such dominant culture, values, or “legitimated knowledge” is cultural capital (Lin 2001, 15).
Social Capital
Lin argues that the neo-classic theories, and particularly Bourdieu’s theory,
underscore the interplay between the individual’s choice of action and the constraints of structural or class positions, but fail to provide a sufficient explanation of the interplay (2001,
18). Instead, he suggests that social capital theory is better able to elaborate this interplay. Social capital is understood in terms of both norms and values of social organizations and resources rooted in social relations and social networks (Foley and Edwards 1999; Lin and Erickson 2008, 4). Cohen’s definition seems to highlight the former aspect; he defines social capital as “the stock of active connections among people; the trust, mutual understanding, shared values and behaviors that bind the members of human networks and communities and make cooperative action possible” (2001, 3). Lin defines social capital as the “quantity and/or quality of resources that an actor can access or use through its location in social network” (2000, 785).
Social capital defined as resources embedded in social relations and networks,
can be accessed both through direct ties and direct interpersonal relationships and through indirect ties as far as social networks go (Lin 2001). Available resources also include those resources that are embedded in “positions in an organization” and “the power, wealth, and reputation of the organization itself,” as well as those that are embedded in direct and indirect social connections (Lin 2001, 44-45).
Social Capital and Faith-Based Communities
In an analysis of Americans’ civic engagement and social capital and
community, Putnam discusses faith-based communities and their role as a “crucial reservoir of social capital in America” (2000, 408). He states that megachurch leaders are in fact “savvy social capitalists” (2000, 409). Interestingly, the paradox that Granovetter points out about strong ties and weak ties is implicated in his analysis of history of the waves of Great Awakening. Putnam contends that “a new Great Awakening would not be an unmixed blessing. Proselytizing religions are better at creating bonding social capital than bridging social capital” (Putnam 2000, 410). The notions of weak ties and strong ties and bridging social capital and bonding social capital demonstrate the existence of different types of social networks and social capitals, and their respective implications.
Homophily and Heterogeneous Principle
Based on Homan’s study, which identified interaction, sentiment, and activity
as three factors for positive relationships (1950), Nin (2000) suggests that in the most common form of social relationship, a homophile principle or “like-me” hypothesis is at work. Social interactions often take place “among individuals with similar lifestyles and socioeconomic characteristics” (Lin 2001, 39). Lin (2000) argues that inequality of social capital occurs when a certain group of people who constitute a low socioeconomic class interact and share disadvantaged resources.
At the same time, Lin recognizes that there are “asymmetric interactions”
where people from different hierarchical social structures interact (2001, 50). In such interactions, sentiment is not shared naturally and the interaction requires effort. In social relations between heterogeneous individuals or groups, people located in lower social positions and structures often seek relationships with people in higher social positions and social structures as a means of seeking better resources and access. There are, however, times when members of that latter group take the initiative for building such relationships.
Lin suggests that these cases may be motivated by a desire to gain reputation (2001, 157).
Strength of Weak Ties
Granovetter’s study of weak ties reveals an interesting paradox. Weak ties
describe social relationships that are characterized by lesser degrees of interaction, shared sentiment, and commitment for reciprocal obligations. The paradox suggests that while strong ties bring about local cohesion in a micro-level but lead to fragmentation in the macrolevel of society, weak ties, though they used to be understood as marginalized or alienated, can provide more opportunities for participating individuals and bring about integration of a larger society (Granovetter 1973, 1378). The strength of weak ties lies in their bridging role. Bridging individuals positioned in weak ties link two social circles that are otherwise separate, and have better access to their heterogeneous resources (Granovetter 1973, 67–69).
Social Network and Social Capital of North Korean Defectors
Jin and her colleagues (Jin, Lee, and Kim 2009) conducted empirical research
on North Korean defectors’ social networks and social capital. Researchers assumed that North Korean defectors’ lives could be reconstructed into three constituents in terms of time and space: (1) crossing the border to China by defecting from North Korea; (2) leaving China and crossing the border to the third country, either Mongolia, Myanmar, or Thailand; and (3) from the consulate of the Republic of Korea to South Korea. They realized, however, that such time and space division is inadequate, at least as far as social networks of North Korean defectors are concerned, because defectors’ social networks and social capital spread simultaneously across North Korea, China, and South Korea (Jin et al. 2009, 168-169). A couple of findings seem to be noteworthy.
First, the findings indicate dynamics of social capital in accordance with the
sociocultural and historical context and its change. The social location/class (sungbun) of most recent North Korean defectors was low in North Korea—some belonged to a hostile class—and this placed them in a particular geographic location close to the northern border with China. However, as Jin et al. state, the meaning of this geographical location changed because these people had easier access to the border with China and were thus able to defect or earn capital by trading in black markets. In conclusion, the study suggests that although “North Korean defector in South Korea” may be seen as a somewhat stigmatized identity, it too can be changed to a privileged position, because the defectors will be able to function as a “hub,” networking and bridging North Korea, China, and South Korea (Jin et al. 2009, 184-
186).
The other relevant finding was that the study signifies that North Korean
defectors’ social capital in South Korea is very limited and closed and that they have little social network with South Koreans. Jin, Lee, and Kim suggest that it is time to move beyond implementing policies for the adjustment of North Korean defectors and to deliberate and design the kind of intervention needed to help them build a positive social capital that may have a constructive impact on their lives (2009, 192).
CHAPTER 3
RESEARCH PROCEDURE
The purpose of this research was to gain an in-depth understanding of learning
experiences of North Korean defector theological students and graduates in the context of theological education, including theological schools, churches, and society in South Korea. The research concern was three-folded. It was to examine ways in which their cultural frames of reference and previous life experiences affected their learning experience. It was also to understand how the defectors’ current unique social location influenced their learning experience and how it involved positioning and negotiation and construction of identities. At the same time, with an eye on the future, this study was intended to discover the meanings and inferences of their experience as a means of preparing for the theological education that will be established in North Korea or in a future unified Korea.
Research Questions
The following three research questions guided the study.
1. In what ways and to what extent do North Korean defector theological students and graduates describe their learning experience in light of their cultural frames of reference in the past and their previous experiences?
2. In what ways and to what extent do North Korean defector theological students and graduates describe their learning experience in light of their unique social location within and across theological educational contexts in South Korea, and how does that involve their positioning and negotiation and construction of identities?
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3. In what ways and to what extent do the outcomes of critical reflection of North Korean defectors on their learning experiences of theological education in South
Korea shed light on theological education that is appropriate for present-day North Korean defectors in South Korea and potentially for North Koreans in their homeland in the future?
Research Methodology and Design
This study employed qualitative research method with modified naturalistic
inquiry positions in several aspects. According to Guba and Lincoln, naturalistic inquiry uses only qualitative methods but has to be differentiated from qualitative inquiry because the paradigms behind the two types of inquiry are “incommensurable” (Guba 1993, x; Guba and Lincoln 1994). In contrast to conventional inquiries, including both quantitative and qualitative inquiries based on the positivistic or postpositivistic paradigm, naturalistic inquiry is grounded on the constructivist paradigm. According to Guba and Lincoln, the differences in the paradigms in terms of ontology and epistemology have specific implications in terms of methodology, purpose, and criteria for validity.
The researcher takes a stance within critical realism, the ontology of
postpositivism, in that she believes that there is an objective reality and that though we cannot know it all and perfectly, we can know partially and truthfully in collaboration with hermeneutical communities (Hiebert 1999; Bahnsen 1998). However, the researcher accepts and has applied constructivist positions in relevant aspects. First, from a human point of view, there are “multiple interpretations of reality” (Merriam 1997, 22)—or, to use Lincoln and Guba’s term, there are multiple realities rather than a single reality. The findings of our inquiries are not “facts in some ultimate sense,” but they are “one or more constructions that are the realities” of the phenomenon or the case, “created through an interactive process” between the researcher and consultants (Guba and Lincoln 1989, 8). The known and the knower are not separate from each other, nor is the researcher’s act of knowing value-neutral and context-free. Instead, realities are socially constructed, and knowledge and interpretation of the meanings of human phenomena are shared constructs that emerge from dialectical hermeneutical engagement.
Second, the purpose of this research is more one of understanding and
reconstructing the constructs that are the tentative consensus that consultants and the researcher reach, than it is one of controlling or explaining (Guba and Lincoln 1994, 113). The place of ethics in the naturalistic inquiry is not only “extrinsic to the inquiry process itself” through measures such as the use of human subject committees, but also intrinsic to the inquiry process due to the inclusion of respondents’ values and constructs through a dialectic and hermeneutical methodology.
Finally, the voice of the researcher in the naturalistic inquiry reflects not the
voice of a “disinterested scientist,” but the voice of a “passionate participant as facilitator of multivoice reconstruction” (Guba and Lincoln 1994, 115). The following quote demonstrates the sensitivity of the researcher in carrying out naturalistic inquiry in terms of the positioning of consultants and researcher.
When I reach out to persons of very different backgrounds, the development of shared constructions becomes a major first step in our relationship. If I am going to do research in a human setting, I must develop the shared constructions with my partners (respondents) in the setting. Only in this way will I, in Richardson’s words, be able to “honor and empower” (1992, 108) those who have willingly let me enter their world and volunteered to teach me about it. (Erlandson 1993, 28)
The inquiry process is intended to provide an equal voice with dignity and respect for consultants, those who have less power, and to empower them as co-constructers of the shared constructs of the case (Guba and Lincoln 1994, 115; 1989, 125).
The Researcher’s Personal Background and Potential Biases
Howard describes the researcher's roles and possible biases, saying, “Our
work is to make another’s world accessible and understandable by respecting the particulars and locating the recurring themes of that world … we need to acknowledge that our interpretations are culturally constructed and our knowledge is partial, positioned and incomplete” (2008, 171). Knowing that I am, to a large extent, the research instrument in this qualitative research, I offer my personal background in order to acknowledge possible biases.
I am a South Korean female. I used to be an "insider," as a student, of one
of the denominational theological schools, which half of the consultants were attending or graduated from. To some extent I am familiar with theological education in South Korea and in the United States because I have studied theology and (Christian) education in both countries and am acquainted with writings of others about the renewal of theological education. Yet, to have not been an administrator or a faculty member in an institution of theological education may have limited my perspective. I am also conscious of being an "insider" in the Korean church, a Christian who grew up in a small South Korean church until
I went to the United States to study as an international student, approximately ten years ago. However, from a different perspective, I am an "insider-outsider" or one who is willing to stand on the margin as a female theological student who grew up in a conservative church and as one who has been detached from Korean churches in South Korea for some time. one who has experienced immigrant Korean churches and American churches in the United
States.
As a product of history, in my childhood I received anti-communist
education, grew up singing the song that says, “Our wish is reunification,” and learned to pray for North Koreans because they were "one people with South Koreans." In terms of direct experience with North Korean defectors, I attended and served for several months in a church that was founded by a North Korean defector theological student. I also had the opportunity of joining a short-term trip to China to teach Scripture to a small group of female North Korean defectors.
As I interviewed North Korean defector theological students and graduates, I
was mindful of the privileged social positioning I might have as a South Korean who has studied in the United States. Given my personal background and the socially and culturally situated nature of understanding, I am aware of my limitations to understand and represent fully the experiences of North Korean defectors. To ensure trustworthiness of the data gathering and analysis, I provided detailed descriptions of the research design and procedure, thick descriptions of the findings, interaction with precedent literature, ensuring that the data and records are preserved for auditing purposes (Lincoln and Guba 1985; Erlandson et al.
1993).
Research Design
For this study, a descriptive-interpretive qualitative research method with
adapted principles of naturalistic inquiry was chosen in order to obtain an in-depth understanding of the recent critical phenomenon in which more than a hundred North Koreans, who left North Korea during or after the mid-1990s and became Christians, entered theological schools in South Korea and are now preparing to be, or have already become, ministers.
Purposeful sampling was chosen to obtain information-rich data regarding the
purpose of the inquiry (Gall, Gall, and Borg 2007, 178). Thick description of the data and purposeful sampling would enhance “transferability” or, in other words, “generalizability” (Erlandson et al. 1993, 33). For the sampling procedure, snowball or chain sampling was used to find cases that fit the sample criteria for the research concern. According to Gall, Gall, and Borg, snowball sampling “involves asking well-situated people to recommend cases to study” (2007, 185). This procedure made it feasible for the researcher to reach sample consultants who otherwise would have been difficult to contact due to their sociohistorical context and an absence of established trust and rapport between them and the researcher.
Semi-structured, open-ended interviews were conducted with 18 individual
consultants and one focus group to facilitate North Korean defector theological students and graduates’ reconstruction of their learning experiences (Seidman 2006, 15).
Overview of Research Procedures
After the research proposal was approved and the Human Rights Protocol for
the protection of human subjects was reviewed by the research committee at Trinity International University in September 2010, the field research was commenced. Data collection was done by means of data gathering through a demographic information questionnaire, individual interviews, a focus group interview, and observations. An informed consent form was signed by each consultant, and anonymity was promised prior to interviews. Eighteen consultants and one focus group were involved in the study. Data gathering was done in Korea between the beginning of October and the middle of December 2010. The researcher visited two theological schools multiple times to engage in nonparticipatory observation in classes and on campus and to examine some of the curricula, educational philosophies, and histories of the schools. She also visited several North Korean defector congregations in Korean churches. All the interviews were recorded and transcribed. The interview data and field notes, observations, and memos were imported into NVivo 9 for coding and analysis. The constant comparative method was used to analyze data.
Population
The population for the study consisted of North Korean defector
undergraduate and graduate students who were enrolled in or had graduated from accredited theological schools in South Korea. They were adult learners whose primary socialization had occurred in North Korea. They belonged to recent North Korean defector groups who left North Korea since the mid-1990s and are currently living in South Korea.
Understanding the general characteristics of relatively recent North Korean
defectors, the population of this study, provides necessary background knowledge for the concern of this study. This recent group of North Korean defectors is distinguished from earlier North Korean defectors. The majority of the earlier group of North Korean defectors came from the upper or middle classes and had held privileged positions or occupations in
North Korea (Ryoo 2005). Their coming to South Korea was seen as a way of renouncing North Korean ideology during the Cold War period, and to a large extent they were considered to be political defectors. By contrast, North Korean defectors who have come to South Korea since the mid-1990s generally left North Korea for survival reasons after a series of severe famines deprived people of food. Moreover, many of them came from the northern provinces of North Korea, which are close to the border and made it easier for them to cross into China. Their northern origin often indicates that their socio-economic class and educational level in North Korea were low, because the North Korean government intentionally identified people whose political-ideological family backgrounds were classified as hostile, relocated them to the northern provinces, and restricted their access to quality higher education, military service, and Party membership. To some degree, these defectors’ marginal status in North Korea seems to continue in South Korea when it comes to their social-economic status and stigmatized identity within current categorizations or stereotypes.
Among the recent North Korean defectors are North Korean defector
students and graduates of accredited theological schools, including four main denominational schools (Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and Full Gospel). According to unofficial information from the Association of North Korean Defector Ministers, the approximate number of North Korean defector theological students and graduates is around one hundred and twenty. However, it was impossible to obtain an accurate number of the population who attend accredited theological schools at the bachelor and graduate levels.
Sample
The following criteria were used for purposeful sampling in selecting
consultants to help the researcher learn about issues relevant to the purpose of the inquiry (M. D. Gall, Gall, and Borg 2007, 178–184; Patton 2002, 230).
1. North Korean defectors who were currently enrolled and studying in South Korean theological schools at either the undergraduate or the graduate level.
2. If they were undergraduate students, those who were in their third or higher year of study in the theological schools, which meant that they had completed three or more years, fulltime.
3. If they were graduate students who obtained their undergraduate degrees in non-theological schools, those who were in their third year of an M.Div. program in their theological schools.
4. If they were graduate students who obtained their undergraduate degrees in either theology or Christian education in South Korean theological schools, those who were enrolled in an M.Div. program in any year of their studies.
5. Graduates in theology from South Korean theological schools at either the undergraduate or the graduate level.
6. Those who were 18 years old or older when they left North Korea.
The rationale for these criteria was first of all that consultants had to have spent an adequate amount of time in a theological educational institution in order to reflect and engage in conversation in an interview based on their learning experiences. It was assumed that having been in a residential program as theological students for three years or more would have given consultants the necessary exposure to theological education and enough time to build learning experiences and identities as theological students and prospective Christian leaders. In addition, the sixth criterion was necessary in order to find consultants whose cultural frame of reference was held in common with that of North Koreans in that their primary socialization had taken place in North Korea. The rationale for the criteria was that the consultants entered the theological educational context in South Korea as adult learners who carried their culturally-shaped minds and practices with them and brought prior learning and rich life experience for reflection, transformation, and enrichment of learning into the adult education context of theological education.
Sampling Procedure
The researcher began the snowball sampling procedure by asking a North
Korean defector theological student-pastor to recommend cases. She first became acquainted with this student-pastor several years ago in Chicago, when he visited an informal meeting of the North Korean Inland Mission to share his personal and ministerial testimony about the church he had planted in South Korea. From February to July 2009, the researcher had a chance to be involved in the congregational life and ministry of the church by participating in the congregation as a regular attender of the church, serving in an educational program for newcomers to the church, and taking part in a short-term mission trip to China to minister to North Korean defectors.
In the researcher’s judgment, the student-pastor was a “well-situated person”
because he had attended a theological school and was currently attending a seminary while pastoring a church where North Korean defectors made up more than half the congregation. He had also previously been in the leadership of the Association of North Korean Defector Ministers, and was therefore well-acquainted with many North Korean defector theological students and graduates, not only at the seminary he was attending, but also at other theological schools.
This student-pastor initially gave the researcher two names and
accompanying phone numbers. He later provided five more names of potential consultants. The researcher contacted these people individually by phone to find out whether they met the criteria and to schedule interviews. In the beginning of the sampling procedure, the researcher was largely dependent on the student-pastor, who played the role of gate-keeper.
Later on, however, as those recommended individuals were contacted and some agreed to participate in the study, a chain sampling procedure was implemented. After each interview the consultant was asked to recommend another potential consultant who fit the criteria.
Through the chain sampling procedure, eighteen consultants were located and interviewed.
Based on the naturalistic inquiry’s purposeful sampling procedure, the
sampling procedure was directed by “emerging insights” according to relevance and purposiveness to the study (Erlandson 1993, 33). For instance, it seemed that two different patterns of divergent data were being gathered from consultants from two theological schools where theological and missiological stands differed. The researcher purposively sought to find an appropriate number of consultants from each school in order to be able to compare or contrast their responses and see if a pattern emerged from the data.
Research Setting
Interviews were conducted in multiple sites in South Korea, particularly at the
two theological schools that the majority of consultants were attending and at the churches and organizations where they were doing ministry. A couple of consultants were interviewed in public places. Since this study is not ethnographic research, it does not include detailed descriptions of the physical settings or the human and social environment with historical information. However, the following section provides essential descriptions of two theological schools and of Korean churches, with a view to understanding the research setting.
Fourteen consultants (with the exception of two who had never attended
either school) were attending or had graduated from one of two Presbyterian theological schools for either college or seminary (School A and School B) (APPENDIX 5). These two theological schools share a founding history; both proudly claim to be the legal “successor” of Pyongyang Presbyterian Seminary. Pyongyang Presbyterian Seminary was founded in
1901, early in Korean church history, by the missionary Samuel A. Moffett from the United States. The northwestern part of the Korean peninsula, including Pyongyang and Wonsan, was a significant geographic area for Korean church history as the location of the great revival of 1903-1907, which was commensurate to the great revivals of John Wesley.
Moffett described the phenomenon as “a nation on the run to God” (1962, 52-54). According to Park, two-thirds of Korean Presbyterian Christians lived in the northwestern part of the peninsula (Park 2003, 99). The Pyongyang seminary was closed temporarily by the Japanese because church leaders refused to worship at Shinto shrines in 1938, and later reopened in Seoul. Both schools report that there were a few divisions due to “socioecclesiastical-political situations” from the time when Pyongyang Presbyterian Seminary was reopened in Seoul to the time when the two theological schools took their current names.
Visitors to the campuses of these two schools find indications of the
historical heritages that the schools intend to pass on to students. School A restored the first
Korean church—Sorae Church, constructed in Hwanghae province in the northern part of the peninsula—on the seminary campus in 1985. One of the purposes of the restoration was to establish the church as a place to pray for the restoration of churches in North Korea and for reunification. Another historical building is a new chapel building that was named as a memorial of the centennial anniversary of the school which started as the Pyongyang Presbyterian Seminary. The message of the school’s president shows that the educational institution is meant to train “pastoral candidates” and that it aims to train “those who commit themselves to the work of the kingdom and the church of God with the profound reformed theology and diverse Bible-centered training programs for the students’ mature spirituality and personality.” Another noteworthy artifact is a stone placed on the college campus with five written phrases: “Let us be Christians! Let us be scholars! Let us be saints! Let us be evangelists! Let us be shepherds!”
If the denomination of School A is compatible to the Presbyterian Church in
America, School B could be compatible to the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America. When one enters School B and goes up the stairs on the right, they find themselves standing in the Mizpah square at the center of several surrounding buildings. The square is a common meeting place, busy with students walking between buildings, so the names of the surrounding buildings are easily seen. The buildings are named after prominent Christian leaders: the main lecture hall is named the Ju Gi-Cheul Memorial Building, an administrative building is named the Samuel Moffett Memorial Building, and the chapel is named the Kyung-Chik Han Memorial Chapel. Ju Gi-Cheul was a pastor who died as a martyr for refusing to bow before Shinto during the Japanese colonial rule, Moffett was a missionary and founder of the Pyongyang seminary, and Han Kyung-Chik was a pastor admired by Christians as a man of integrity and a faithful servant of God. Also difficult to ignore are two words written in the square itself: learning (or studying, Hak-moon) and piety (or godliness, Kyung-gun). The president’s message on the school’s website seems to reiterate the two phrases: “to intensify its academic and spiritual training.”
Presbyterianism is the largest denomination with the most church members in
Korea. Some point out that the structural similarities between the organization of Presbyterian churches and that of traditional Korean society—for instance, the hierarchical system in which church, social, or political status can be earned—have affected the prevalence of the denomination in Korea (T. Lee 2010, xiii–xiv; Park 2003, 96). The influence of Christianity and Christians on civil society, politics, and the economy in Korea has been remarkable (T. Lee 2010); however, as Lee recognizes in the epilogue of his study on evangelism in Korea, Protestant numbers have started declining and the society is losing respect for evangelical ministers, churches, and Christians for various reasons. He identified several reasons for the current predicament of Christianity in Korea: (1) too many ill-prepared graduates from seminary; (2) numerous “non-accredited and poorly equipped theological institutions;” (3) frequently reported scandals involving well-known ministers; and (4) exclusive attitudes of some evangelicals deriding traditional religions in Korea. Lee describes issues related to theological education as follows:
This diminishment of respect has occurred, in part, because the seminary produced too many graduates, many of whom were ill-prepared for the role of church leader. […] Even well-established denominations, such as those belonging to the two largest Presbyterian denominations, tended to recruit more students than their congregations actually needed … partly for financial reasons, since student tuition was their main source of revenue. But a more serious reason for the lessening of respect for the clergy stemmed from the overabundance of nonaccredited and poorly equipped theological institutions. … By 1990, however, churches saturated the country, and it became increasingly difficult for new ministers to find pastorates. … those seminarians that did not go overseas had no choice but to compete in the domestic religious marketplace. (T. Lee 2010, 147)
The above description can be considered as a summary of the research site, the living, natural context where the consultants obtain theological education, learn to become pastors, and seek to find places to minister.
Semi-Structured In-Depth Interviews
An initial interview protocol was devised with open-ended, semi-structured
questions (APPENDIX 2). Since one’s cultural frame of reference and social positioning are implicit notions that must be revealed, rather than explicit notions to which people make direct reference, two principles were considered important in designing interview protocols. One was to create a context by asking a broad opening question that allowed consultants to narrate their autobiographies, focusing on significant events relevant to the study. The other principle was to facilitate consultants in providing thick descriptions of those events so that their assumptions could be revealed and examined. For the latter purpose, parts of the interview protocols were adapted from the format of the Critical Incident Questionnaires developed by Brookfield. This was done to facilitate detailed, vivid descriptions of significant events relevant to the concern of the study and to assist the consultants in critical reflection on their own assumptions and the assumptions of others, since the foci of the study—both cultural frame of reference and social positioning—are in tacit dimensions of human consciousness.
Brookfield designed the questionnaires for the use of ideology critiques,
power disclosure, and critical reflection on assumptions (1995; 1987) in order to elicit concerns and assumptions that are otherwise abstract and difficult to articulate, and to help people frame them “within directly observable happenings rather than in value generalization” (Brookfield 1987, 99). The tools are also useful, as Brookfield suggests, because they indicate “fruitful areas for more focused exploration” and provide “hunches as to what are the most significant concerns and assumptions” (1987, 99).
Pilot tests were conducted with two people from the population to see if the
questions elicited data relevant to the inquiry and to make necessary clarifications and revisions. The findings of these two interviews were not included in this study. One of the revisions made for the subsequent interviews was the addition of an introductory statement that revealed the purpose of the research and to some extent the researcher’s intent (Guba and Lincoln 1994, 115). A brief statement was made concerning the burgeoning establishment of theological schools in post-communist Eastern Europe and Russia and the issues of cultural and contextual appropriateness of theological education and of cooperation between Western sponsors and indigenous national leaders, based on the precedent literature (Charter 1997; Bohn 1997). The researcher was careful to consider the possible danger of consultants’ inclination to answer according to their perception of certain types of findings that the researchers would like to acquire, but she made the decision to use the statements in the opening of the interview for a couple of reasons. First, in this study participants were not considered simply as interviewees, but were trusted as consultants. Making the background of the research concern explicit was assumed as one of the ways to respect and empower the consultants to share their emic insights and experiences. Second, one of the consultants said that it was tiresome for some North Korean defectors to tell similar stories repeatedly to different interviewers. The researcher’s opening statement established a noble and meaningful context for the consultants to tell their stories and reconstruct the meaning of their experiences, and was intended to help them place their stories in a fresh context and share stories relevant to the concern of the study, even though some of the stories might repeat what they had told different interviewers in the past.
The researcher also tried to be conscious of the choice of language used in
questions and interaction with consultants during the interview. In fact, the consultants’ level of education was higher than that of the average North Korean defectors and their use of terminology and accent was culturally adapted to South Koreans, so there was little difficulty in communication and understanding of abstract concepts or terminologies. Nevertheless, the researcher was careful not to mix English terms in sentences, a common practice for South Koreans. She attempted to properly translate some of the concepts derived from theories learned in English into Korean (Choi 2003, 326).
Prior to each individual interview, the researcher obtained the consultant’s
consent to participate in the interview and received their signature on the informed consent form. The researcher promised the anonymity of the information they provided and informed consultants about their freedom and right to withdraw their participation at any time during the study. After signing the informed consent form, each consultant filled in the demographic survey. Then the interview was conducted with the individual consultant.
Interviews lasted from 90 minutes to four hours. The average was around
two hours. All the interviews were conducted in Korean and were, with permission, recorded on a digital recorder for later transcription and analysis. After the interviews, the researcher made field notes and memos with observations of consultants’ non-verbal cues, reflections on interview contents, and emerging patterns and connections from the data.
Focus Group Interviews
The present inquiry into the learning experiences of North Korean defector
students and graduates was considered to be a concern that could be enriched by focus group interviews. According to Patton, in focus group interviews “interactions among participants enhance data quality. Participants tend to provide checks and balances on each other, which weeds out false or extreme views” (2002, 386). Group interactions stimulate participants’ perspectives and facilitate their responses. The purpose of the focus group interview was not only to collect data in order to enhance validity for the research by way of triangulation, but also to enrich the data.
The original focus group interview protocol was designed with questions
almost identical to those from the individual interview protocol (APPENDIX 3). This was because the purpose of the focus group was not primarily to obtain new data by asking new questions, but to enrich the data through consultants’ mutual stimulation and interaction and to triangulate the data through their internal feedbacks to one another, which provided
“checks and balances” to conflicting or extreme ideas.
The focus group interview was scheduled after all individual interviews were
completed. During the individual interviews, some consultants shared their skepticism about the idea of doing a group interview. Their concern was based on their perception of a tendency among some of the North Korean defector students on campus to hide the fact that they are from North Korea and to not feel comfortable or secure being open and talking with other North Korean defector students. Some consultants therefore expected that those students would not show up for the group interview even though they might promise the researcher that they would come. In discussing qualitative research methodologies in North Korean Studies, Choi affirms that there are expected difficulties in organizing and conducting a focus group interview with North Korean defectors (2003, 309).
The researcher attempted to have a couple of focus group interviews with the
consultants who participated in individual interviews, but only one focus group interview proceeded, attended by a few consultants who lived close by. One North Korean defector student offered his church as a meeting place for the focus group interview. In addition to that student, three other consultants participated in the interview. In spite of some difficulties and limitations of time, the consultants who were there either for a short time or for the full time collaborated fully with the researcher to create shared constructs about their learning experiences of theological education in South Korea and about envisioning theological education appropriate for North Koreans in the future. The researcher had to adjust her interview questions due to the spontaneous interview condition. The interview began with a summary of preliminary findings from the data collected by individual interviews. Consultants were invited to make comments about the preliminary findings.
They confirmed or elaborated on some of the findings and added new insights.
The nature of the group interview was emergent and improvised. One of the
consultants brought his notes about his further reflection on the earlier individual conversation with the researcher, and shared his expanded insights about a couple of questions asked in the individual interview. Picking up his ideas, which were relevant to the focus group discussion, other consultants affirmed and/or freely added their comments. The researcher also observed how the consultants checked and balanced one another’s comments. For instance, when one shared his idea about not allowing divorced persons to enter theological schools, other consultants commented that it was an extreme idea without taking into consideration the current dysfunctional state of North Korean families. At another point, two consultants debated about a certain issue. The contents of their debates reflected some of the findings from the individual interviews, and so they triangulated the data for validity.
The focus group interview lasted for approximately two hours. It was
conducted in Korean and recorded on a digital recorder for transcription and analysis.
Data Analysis
Eighteen individual interviews and one focus group interview were
transcribed, and all the collected data—including demographic surveys, field notes, and memos—were compiled and imported into NVivo 9. The procedure of an interpretational analysis process was carried out. According to Gall, Gall, and Borg, interpretive analysis is “the process of examining case study data closely in order to find constructs, themes, and patterns that can be used to describe and explain the phenomenon being studied” (2007, 466).
The constant comparative method was used for the procedure (Glaser and Strauss 1967; Lincoln and Guba 1985, 336–351; Gall et al. 2007, 469).
Reading all the data on the computer, the researcher broke each text into
meaningful pieces and incidents, named them, and coded them for categories. In this open coding process, assignment of segments and incidents into categories was based on “tacit judgments of ‘feel-alike’ or ‘look-alikeness’” (Lincoln and Guba 1985, 342). The researcher continued by comparing incidents in the same and different categories and assigning names to the categories based on the researcher’s constructs and consultants’ constructs. After the process was complete, the researcher recognized recurring patterns and themes, but also found conflicting incidents and overlapping categories and incidents. Pausing the analysis process, she reviewed the results and created many memos by comparing categories with theories and interpreting the relationships between categories. She then resumed the analysis. Through the second and the third coding process, patterns, themes, and category properties were refined. Some of the existing categories were revised, new categories and subcategories replaced some of the tentative “feel-alike and look-alike” categories, and relationships among categories became more coherent (Lincoln and Guba
1985, 342). In order to ensure anonymity, pseudonyms were assigned to each consultant.
During the process of analyzing the data and indicating findings after all the
individual interviews were done, in order to ensure the trustworthiness of the data, the researcher summarized, the preliminary themes, patterns, and constructs that emerged from individual interviews and presented them to the members of the focus group for their participatory, hermeneutical input. The researcher also make sure that categories, constructs, and interpretations would be supported by thick descriptions of the data in order to ensure their congruence to consultants’ reconstruction of the meaning of their experience and make them traceable to the sources.
CHAPTER 4
THE PAST: CULTURAL FRAMES OF REFERENCE,
PRIOR EXPERIENCES AND LEARNING (RQ1)
This study sought to understand how cultural frames of reference assimilated in North Korea and previous and ongoing life experiences have influenced the learning experience of North Korean defector theological students and graduates in the context of churches, theological schools, and society in South Korea. The study also inquired into how consultants’ unique social location in South Korea had affected their learning experience and how it involved their negotiation and reconstruction of positioning and identities. Moreover, the ultimate concern of this study was to discover issues for consideration when it comes to envisioning theological education appropriate to North Koreans in their homeland in the future.
The findings of this study’s three research questions are presented in chapters
four, five, and six, respectively. This chapter describes the findings of research question one: “In what ways and to what extent do consultants describe their learning experience in light of their cultural frames of reference in the past and their previous experiences?”
Cultural Frames of Reference and Prior Experiences
Consultants, as well as South Korean theological students and professors,
carry their own cultural baggage into classrooms and schools. Through their culturally-
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shaped minds and practices, consultants perceive other people such as teachers, colleagues, and South Korean Christians and pastors, and make sense of what goes on in settings such as study groups, classrooms, schools, and churches (Gay 2000, 9). At the same time, as adult learners, consultants enter the context of theological education with rich life experiences, prior knowledge, and educational or career backgrounds (Jackson and Caffarella 1994; Merriam, Caffarella, and Baumgartner 2007). These prior experiences can confine new learning, or they can enrich new learning experiences and enable new meanings through perspective transformation. Four themes were identified from the data about the cultural frames of reference and salient prior experiences that influenced consultants’ learning experience in the theological education context of South Korea: (1) Juche as a religious and worldview system; (2) Confucian collectivistic values; (3) educational systems in North Korea; and (4) conversion, calling, nonformal theological education experienced in China, and Christianity as perceived in South Korea.
Juche Ideology as a Religious and Worldview System
Almost all of the consultants, sixteen out of eighteen, mentioned Juche
ideology during their interviews. Consultants were not asked any direct interview questions about their understanding of Juche or its influence on their lives unless they mentioned the subject first, but they touched on different aspects of the Juche idea in different parts of their interviews. This indicates the centrality of Juche ideology in the past lives of the consultants. Surprisingly, however, Juche ideology had a limited influence on consultants’ theological education. This was because the majority of the consultants experienced conversion while they were in China, and this was their most radical experience of perspective transformation, worldview change. By the time the consultants entered theological school, they no longer held Juche’s main ethos of humanistic self-reliance,
Kimilsungism, and atheistic materialism to be true.
The following presentation of the findings is, nevertheless, noteworthy in two
respects. First, it is significant due to the indirect impact of Juche ideology on consultants’ learning. As Eisner (1985) points out, it is not just explicit curriculum that matters; a hidden curriculum (a curriculum that is implicitly taught) and a null curriculum (a curriculum that is not taught at all) matter as well. The political ideology and implicit teaching of the North Korean regime caused consultants to never learn some things, and to unconsciously internalize other things, such as emotional responses and ways of thinking and learning. These null curricula and hidden curricula, more than the content of Juche ideology, have had ramifications for consultants’ learning. The other reason to take note of these findings is that consultants seemed to take positions as “commentators” or “authoritarian voices” before the researcher (Harré and Langenhove 1999, 18). By doing so, they provided explanations about the North Korean context and pointed out obstacles that may hinder North Korean defectors and North Koreans from being open to Christianity.
Consultants highlighted four aspects of Juche: a humanistic principle of self-
reliance, Kimilsungism or Suryongism, nationalism and patriotism as a purpose of life, and Juche as a mental mainstay of people’s lives. They supported the idea that Juche was a worldview as much as it was a religion and a culture in the lives of North Koreans.
Juche as a Humanistic Principle of Self-Reliance
Juche literally means “self-reliance.” Many consultants recited naturally the
principal idea of Juche taught in North Korea: “Man is the master of everything and decides everything. Man is the master of his own destiny” (J. Kim 1982, 9; Priscilla, Mary, John, Daniel, Jeremy, Thomas). For some consultants, the Juche ideology was held not as a political ideology but as a learned, humanistic personal conviction espousing independence and autonomy in their own lives. For instance, Mary said, “It [the Juche idea] teaches that since the master of my destiny is myself, I have to overcome in my own strength. That is right, isn’t it? Since I didn’t believe in God, it made sense. It was really appealing.” John illustrated how the self-reliance principle was working in his mind by describing an incident when he felt betrayed by his father in North Korea. He stated, “After the incident, I inscribed on my wrist the word ‘Juche’ (‘self-reliance’). … As if I was a god, I determined, ‘I don’t need to trust anyone. I should pioneer my life by myself. Neither father nor the country, there are none I can trust or should trust.’” John explained that at that time Juche was for him an “atheistic religious belief” that taught one to rely only on one’s own self.
Juche as Suryongism or Kimilsungism that Includes Hostile Education Against Christianity
Consultants also noted, however, that self-reliance of the people as masters of
their own lives is not the core of the Juche idea. Instead, the essence of the Juche idea is
Kimilsungism. As Jeremy explained,
There is contradiction in Juche idea. What is at the center of Juche idea is
Kimilsungism, that is, Su-ryongism. Su-ryong is Kim Il Sung. The letter, “Su”
means head and “Ryong” means rule or lead. It is right that the master of your own destiny is you, but that is possible only when there is a leader who can lead his own masses and when the masses commit their destiny to the leader.
Elisha also stated, “I am a master of history, and yet the master of the masters of history is Kim Il Sung or Kim Jong Il.” In fact, the consultants’ words affirmed the historical development of the Juche idea and its internalization among the North Korean people (H. Park 2002; Lim 2010). The Juche idea, which had been understood as an indigenous adaptation of Marxism-Leninism in the inchoate period of its development, gradually acquired superiority to Marxism-Leninism. Then later it was referred to as the
“quintessence of the kimilsungism” in which Kim Il Sung became a Suryong and a god-like figure (J. Kim 1985, 6). Consultants reported that, ironically, Kim Il Sung has taken the place of an absolute being or god in North Korea, even though the Juche idea was based on the atheistic materialism of Marxism (Jeremy, John, Paul, Daniel, Priscilla).
A few consultants referred to the unavailability of information from outside
the regime, due to the regime’s strict control over information and people’s movement, as a significant factor influencing the North Korean people to naively accept and believe the reality that the regime describes, interprets, and constructs. This reality comprises what the regime makes the people believe about North Korea, the outside world, and religions, and includes the Kimilsungism by which people believe “Kim Il Sung will take care of everything” and “protect us forever” (John, Andrew, and Sharon). John explained that the regime indoctrinated a certain point of view on religion by inculcating hostility toward Christianity and imperialist countries on the one hand, and instilling Kimilsungism and Juche on the other.
Several consultants mentioned that in the textbooks of young students, missionaries are portrayed negatively through illustrations of Hudson Taylor’s story. For older students, the schools teach and stress certain events in history with greater weight than others. One of the examples is the Opium Wars, which represented the imperialism of the West. The regime taught that missionaries were sent ahead to prepare a pathway to invade and colonize a country. Such education seems to be carried out in an effective way. John explained,
The regime carries out extremely logical and systematically organized education that teaches how Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il have sacrificed their lives for each and every person of the people and how exceptionally they have led us for our country and our people, and that therefore, without them, there is neither the fate of our country nor the identity of the individual.
Even with this kind of logically organized indoctrination, however, the regime’s brainwashing and remolding agenda would not succeed if the people had access to the outside world—which, in North Korea, they do not. John continued,
Such indoctrination taught systematically is deposited as layers of sedimentation inside a person. When there is no information available from outside of the regime, it becomes inscribed on the heart. And when it is accumulated, it becomes a point of view about religion.
Paul made a similar point that no matter how unbelievable it might seem that North Koreans actually thought of Kim Il Sung as a god, it could happen, just as people internalize a false belief when they are confined and live in a cult community for an extended period of time.
In sum, North Korea has taught atheistic materialism in relation to Marxism
and offered anti-religious education that elevates hostility against Christianity and any other religion. At the same time, it has idolized its leader as a god. Consultants’ experiences showed North Korea’s ambivalence about religion as it holds to both atheism and
Kimilsungism.
Juche as Nationalism with Pride and Patriotic Love for the Nation
Consultants asserted that the Juche ideology has to do with “national pride,”
loyalty, and love for the people, the Korean race, the country, and the leader Kim Il Sung. It provided them with a sense of purpose for life and a greater cause to live and die for. For instance, Paul stated that “North Korean people have strong national pride. … If anything happens that bothers and damages their national pride, they become outrageous.” According to Paul, the North Korean regime has carried out its agenda in such a subtle way through cultures that a sense of national pride, filial piety to Kim Il Sung and defense of the country would be intertwined as one. He illustrated one of the ways in which the country inculcated nationalism and national pride through cultural products such as stories that reinforce the Juche ideology.
The regime teaches that one of the main strategies that American imperialists use to colonize other countries is through culture. They try to change a target country’s culture into their own imperialist culture. With their own corrupted and pleasure-seeking, debauched culture, they attempted to eradicate our own national culture. That is their strategy. We have to liberate people in the South because they are already colonized by imperialists. How? Even though Americans do not occupy the country, South Korea had already lost its own national pride. So, we have to defend our own culture, culture in our own style. That is, our national traditional culture that has continued for five thousand years. … In order to prevent invasion of imperialists’ culture, for instance, they tried to make us drink their Coke, but we refused. Even if we drink sweet water from the mountain Baekdu, we would not let our people drink imperialists’ Coke.
Just as the regime was successful in instilling Juche and Kimilsungism in the minds of the people, consultants emphasized the effectiveness of North Korean education in making them love the country. Mary’s story demonstrates how nationalism was internalized.
All the education that I received from North Korea is so much about loving one’s country. … When I came to China, people tried to persuade me to settle down in China because I had some relatives there. But, I didn’t want to … because if I stay there, my children will be children of China. I didn’t like that. So, the only thought that I had was, “If I cannot go to North Korea, I would rather go to South Korea, and I will make my child a Korean, the Korean race. Since my country does not take me back, I will go to Republic of Korea at the expense of my life.” #
As seen in Mary’s determination to go to South Korea instead of staying in China, the pride and identity that the regime educated and fostered in people’s hearts was not just for the country of North Korea, but for the Korean race. This is congruent with what Shin recognizes as a main characteristics of Korean nationalism—the organic unity of race and nation (2006).
Some of the consultants (Daniel, Tim, and Paul) indicated that elite South Korean students in top-ranking schools are enthusiastic about North Korea’s Juche ideology because it offers national pride. As addressed in Chapter 2, the importance of this national pride through self-reliance is understood against a backdrop of a long history in which Korea has been surrounded by powerful nations such as Russia, China, and Japan. Korea has been an object of frequent attacks and invasions. The Juche idea, and its application to politics, economics, and national defense as “political independence,” “economic self-sustenance,” and military “national self-defense” (I. Kim 1975, 40), were inspiring and desirable enough to move a people who had just come out of oppressive colonial rule with the painful realization that their powerlessness had seen their country become colonized and lose its sovereignty.
Such love and pride of country was more than a sentiment. It was a
conviction, meaning, and way of life for North Koreans. Philip said that he certainly liked the instructions and inspirations that he acquired in North Korea about how he ought to live a life. He stated that the regime taught people what was worth dying for, and they were willing to lay down their lives for the sacred cause of loving and defending the country. He explained,
The regime hands you a responsibility that you have to sacrifice yourself for others. In order to do so … it is when you have self-worth that you can sacrifice your life for a sacred cause. In that regard, you know some lives just fade away. Life just goes by. … Instead of living like that, as long as life is given for me to live, I shall live a right one—living a life for the country, living a life for the love of the country. At that time, I thought that it was the right way of living. … And the victim mentality from the things that our country, Chosun, had to go through in history, we should never repeat the history. We must defend the country. And defending the country is defending my family and defending my family is defending … Those instructions, I took very positively.
#
Learning in North Korea was rooted in conviction. Consultants believed that North Koreans used to have a vision and norms for what a right life looks like and for what kind of life is worth living, because the North Korean regime taught them (Philip, Mary, Tim).
Juche as Meaning of Life, a Value System, and a Worldview
As described above, the finding shows that North Korea instilled value
systems, norms, and a vision for right living in the minds of the people. For instance, Mary explained her past convictions as fully embracing the way of life, purpose, and cultural and ethical values taught in North Korea.
When I was in North Korea, I really loved Kimilsungism, the Juche idea, the Party’s monolithic ideological system, and things like that. I was a devotee. It’s because as far as life is concerned, human beings need some kind of the value system, but in North Korea, that is the only value system that you could find. And I loved the North Korean culture, too, because it is not corrupted. In other words, it teaches correctly how human beings shall live and it teaches rightly about sex culture, marriage culture … and it teaches how we as members and workers of the society shall live sacrificially. The North Korean culture teaches those well. So I accepted them all and loved them very much.
Consultants’ statements about Juche as their worldview were supported by
their experience of a sense of void and confusion regarding how they should live and what they had to live for after they left North Korea. In China, they encountered a different world with different value systems and found that the propaganda of their own country was false. Mary demonstrated that her arrival in China and subsequent exposure to a different culture was a disorienting experience. She stated, “I was shocked when I came to China. …
Observing the culture, watching TV, I was thinking, ‘Is this the world where people live and where I should live?’” She was “confused at that time.” She had set an expectation of what the world ought to be like and of what right living should look like from the cultural frame of reference she assimilated in North Korea, and this expectation was shaken in China. One aspect of her confusion was that North Korea taught “submission in relationship between male and female.” She realized this was different in China. Mary depicted herself as a naïve idealist, dreaming of a life like one found in a novel. However, she had to conclude in despair that such a life would not exist in China or anywhere else. At one point she thought that she would have to abandon the thoughts that she had held in North Korea and find her own way to adjust in China, because she told herself that “what I was really looking for, what I really desired, does not exist in the world.”
Again, the effectiveness of the North Korean regime’s education was
underscored. It made consultants’ learning deep at a convictional level. It is interesting that Mary and Jeremy compared the regime’s constant teaching about a right way of life with churches’ instruction for spiritual formation. Mary described,
I guess the politics that the country propagandizes is very important. The North Korean regime organizes a lecture a few times a week. Just as we have a worship service a few times a week at church, in North Korea we do that too, in factories and … So the regime from the top arranges and offers a lecture, and so minds of the people … Through those lectures, the regime teaches and instills the idea that we can live for the people and for the county. Therefore, I didn’t have any confusion.
Constant instruction and indoctrination offered in schools, the military, and workplaces did not leave the people’s worldview formation to chance, but formed a uniform idea of how to live. So, Mary had “no confusion” until she observed other realities in China.
Tim positioned himself as a “commentator” and explained current
psychological conditions experienced by North Koreans in general. The contemporary breakdown of Juche ideology as a plausible structure in the minds of North Koreans, triggered by economic crises, has brought about disequilibration. He asserted, “In fact, North Korea did have their own mental mainstay (or pillar) of people’s lives, and it was a quite plausible and decent one.” Having Juche as an anchor or mental mainstay of the lives of the people made it possible for North Koreans to live their lives, “experiencing joy, meaning, satisfaction, and fulfillment in [their] own way.” Then, when the famine and flood swept the country and left it with a fatal food shortage, that mental anchor crumbled.
Tim continued,
Yet, that pillar collapsed due to food shortage in the 1990s. Even Kim Jong
Il was skeptical about the Juche ideology since the architect of Juche,
Hwang Jang Yub, left for South Korea. And so he abandoned it. So Kim
Jong Il switched his own fundamental ideology from the Juche ideology to Military-First ideology. Then, once the mental pillar broke down, people instinctually felt void and looked for something that would replace the Juche idea, but there was none available. But because of physical poverty, they had no time to be concerned about such a matter. Because they were starving, they couldn’t think of anything mental.
Likewise, Esther explained that North Korean defectors are struck by this psychological pain and hunger after their lives are well established in South Korea, because it is then that they realize a sense of void and meaninglessness due to mental poverty. Such pain, induced by “mental poverty,” was understood as a result of a worldview vacuum and the disappearance of the meaning of life.
Influences on Understanding Christianity and Learning in Theological Education
Consultants reported that Juche ideology, Kimilsungism, atheistic materialism,
and anti-religious education in North Korea had affected their initial response and reaction to Christianity and their early learning experience of the Bible and theology in mission homes in China.
A Negative Bias and Fear about Christianity
About half of the consultants reported that, not only did they have a negative
bias against Christianity, but it also made little sense to them since they had learned atheistic materialism. Hannah stated,
Frankly speaking, I also graduated from __ economic college, learned materialism, dialectic materialism, political economics, and Juche philosophy.
I rather persecuted Christianity more than Paul [She meant Apostle Paul]. Having just come to China, realistically, I thought that this Bible was completely false. … I thought that only those who were foolish believed in
Jesus and that if anyone believed in Jesus, the person would become senseless.
Philip expressed that he had never thought about becoming a pastor “because we received an education that criticizes God. Believing in God is … what ignorant people with little knowledge do. That was how I thought of Christianity; those who are enlightened would never believe.” Paul also shared that he felt aversion to Christianity when he heard about God.
First of all, the existence of God itself was hard to believe. Because we were thoroughly educated with materialism and it utterly emphasized rational thinking, and we were also brainwashed with Kim Il Sung monolithic ideological system, the idea of the existence of God itself provoked a strong sense of revulsion. I believe it is likely to be same for all the residents and college students who came out of North Korea. I guess the influence of North Korea’s antireligious hostility-raising education was huge.
The common perception about religion, taught and internalized in North Korea, is that religion is what only the ignorant are deceived to believe. It is that which paralyzes the consciousness of the people. Education that aimed to arouse hostility against Christianity was conducted in a manner that was connected to developing anti-imperialism and anticapitalism among the people (John, Paul, Hannah). The outcome was antagonism, fear, or despising of Christianity.
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Making Little Sense
Apart from negative presuppositions about Christianity, consultants shared
that Christianity made no sense to them in the beginning. This was the result of their having been taught materialism. Moreover, religion itself was not part of the common experience of the people in North Korea since no official religion other than Kimilsungism is practiced in a true sense. For instance, when she was asked by a Chinese-Korean pastor in China to read the Scriptures and report one verse that touched her heart, Priscilla reported that she struggled to find even one verse that made sense to her and moved her. “From the beginning it made no sense. ‘In the beginning, God created the world.’ Since I learned evolution, there was no single verse that touched my heart.” Hannah felt the same: “When I read Genesis for the first time, God made a man from the ground and breathed in a spirit. Oh my goodness, how on earth can this sheer lie be told? Jesus walked on the water? Wow, how in the world can there be this kind of falsehood?” In addition, Hannah shared findings of an empirical research that she conducted about perceptions of North Korean defectors in South Korea about Christianity. She stated, “These people [North Korean defectors] who knew only indoctrination education in North Korea didn’t have the right perception of Christianity. Even those who have lived in South Korea for five years or ten years don’t have an accurate understanding of Christianity.” A concept of God based on Christian theism is not something that can be taken for granted.
For that reason, Mary and Thomas were concerned about the ways in which South Korean churches reach out North Korean defectors. They expressed that it needed to be taken into consideration that North Korean defectors did not grow up in a culture like South Korea, where religion is a common phenomenon and everyone takes for granted the existence of religion. Therefore, they argued that bringing North Koreans to faith in God requires a different approach from the ones churches use in approaching and evangelizing South Koreans who are already familiar with the concept of God and religion.
Similarity Between Christianity and Its System and Kimilsungism and Its System
The words of the consultants confirmed studies that have compared and
identified similarities between Kimilsungism and its system, which organized the lives of
North Koreans in North Korea, and Christianity and its system, which organized the lives of
Christians in South Korean churches. Those studies viewed Juche ideology and
Kimilsungism as “a highly developed religion” (Belke 1998) and compared it with
Christianity in terms of its concepts of God, doctrine, rituals, norms, moral consciousness, and organizations (B. Kim 2000; Ha 2008). Two-thirds of the consultants directly or indirectly mentioned similarities between Christianity and the culture and organization of Korean churches, on the one hand, with Kimilsungism and the ways in which it is externalized and objectified in North Korean society, on the other. For instance, in terms of doctrines, Daniel argued that Juche plagiarized Christian doctrine and said that if someone from North Korea read the Scriptures, he or she would find Juche in there. What is noteworthy was the difference in how they perceived the effects of these resemblances on their coming to faith or learning about Christianity.
The Authoritarian Culture of the Church Resembles the Kimilsungism
Embodied in North Korea
Naomi compared the culture of churches in South Korea with the culture of
North Korea and said with bitter smile,
Something should be different. It is because they are almost identical, since the Juche ideology and the education that indoctrinated it were taken from the Scriptures. So I guess they may be indistinguishable. They could be seen as identical by North Koreans. “They are the same!” They may say like this. I am not the only person who says this. Rather, North Koreans unanimously say so. They say, if you go to church, it is like North Korea. Absolute authority [smile], no democracy. Church is a place of solemnity and the pastor’s word is an absolute rule. It truly is. Also, in terms of highly honoring the pastor, the church that does it especially well may be [name of the church]. They greatly honor servants of God. Such aspects made North Koreans sick and tired of the church.
This kind of resemblance was perceived negatively. Naomi was worried that Christianity, the way it is in South Korea, would be rejected by North Koreans. Some consultants, referring to the similarity, suggested that North Korea missions would succeed if they just managed to substitute God for Kim Il Sung in the mind of North Koreans (Phoebe, Sharon,
Daniel, Esther). Others, however, challenged the idea and argued that Christian mission for North Korea cannot be done in the same way that the regime has established Kimilsungism in
North Korea (Naomi, John, Tim, Thomas, Mary).
Confusion and Hesitance to Trust
The fact that instructions for Christianity and the culture of churches and theological schools were reminiscent of those of Kimilsungism and the North Korean society in various respects made some consultants confused and caused them to shrink from believing in God and Christianity. Speaking either out of their personal experiences or out of concern for other people from North Korea, these consultants shared a question with which they wrestled: how they could put their trust in an absolute being like God when they realized painfully that they had been betrayed by another absolute being, Kim Il Sung, in whom they had put complete trust (Tim, Thomas, Esther). Some reported that many North Korean defectors were “determined not to be deceived once again.” For instance, Thomas shared his struggle, which was stimulated by the seeming similarities when he was in seminary.
By the way, while studying at a theological school, what shocked me was how the Kim Il Sung religion that we were forced to believe in North Korea and Christianity can be so alike. How can they be so identical? This creates a dilemma. To put it differently, we Christians must believe only in God. All our thinking should be Christ-centered and we should trust and commit everything to him. By living in such a way, we have victory in our lives and that victory is the ultimate goal. Concerning the life in North Korea, our thoughts should be centered on Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. They are the center of ways in which we think and live our lives. So somehow Kim Il Sung religion and Christianity are very similar. Much inner conflict occurs because of the fact. Does God indeed exist? What might be the differences between Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il, whom I believed in North Korea, and God, whom I say I believe in here? To what extent can I take it [Christianity] as truth? To what extent should I accept it as real and consider theological evidences offered in the seminary? In the midst of having these types of numerous conflicts and struggles, I studied theology.
It is fair to say that these similarities triggered a disorienting dilemma in Thomas. However, he stated that when he learned that Kim Il Sung had grown up in a faithful Christian family and was familiar with the Scriptures, he could find the dilemma that had troubled him gradually being disentangled.
Findings also show that the practice of shamanism or folk religious practice is
common in North Korea. However, consultants shared that God in Christianity is perceived differently from the gods in those superstitious folk religions. It emulates the status of Kim Il Sung. Paul indicated that shamanism and folk religions did not evoke a highly developed idea of god, which was only reserved for Kim Il Sung, but God in Christianity is a highly developed concept of god. That made him resist believing in God.
Ingenuine Emotional Arousal and Spiritual Formation by Obligation
Sentiments are important elements with which consultants engage in the culture of churches and theological schools. Tim described his uneasy feelings during chapel about emotional responses of theological students during chapel that seemed to be without sincerity. Students repented with tears in chapel but went out unchanged— therefore, what was going on in the chapel appeared to be ingenuine. Tim stated that this resembled the North Koreans who had to praise and cry before the power and authority of the leader of the North Korean regime.
Thomas questioned the effectiveness of the ways in which spiritual formation
was implemented in his theological school because they reminded him of what was going on in North Korea. He pointed to the involuntary nature of spiritual formation and the lack of explanation given about why it should be done the way it is done in the seminary. This made him reckon that Christianity indeed prevents and paralyzes the function of people’s rational thinking, just as the regime had said it did.
Cultural Themes of Confucian-Socialism and Learning Experience
It is difficult to separate the political ideology of Juche and Kimilsungism
from the sociocultural contexts of North Korea because every aspect of North Korean society, including economy, ethics, education, culture, and social classes, is integrated with the ideology. Nevertheless, the sociocultural context of North Korea reflects more than what is tainted by the regime’s political and religious ideology. A consultant stated that what made North Koreans North Korean was not their knowledge of Juche ideology. Jeremy and Paul stated that the people of North Korea do not have elaborate knowledge of Juche ideology to the extent that they were able to articulate it in detail. However, “Not knowing it is no problem,” said Paul. He made a point by raising a question:
Do you know what makes South Koreans South Korean? The most significant element that makes South Koreans South Korean is neither politics nor economy. It is the culture into which our body is immersed: multimedia, TV, Internet, popular mass communications. They are the ones that shape our value systems and worldviews.
It is the culture that makes North Koreans North Korean. Paul asserted that Kim Jong Il stressed culture more than military after he succeeded his father, Kim Il Sung. The regime’s agenda to preserve and develop culture in its own style did indeed have to do with
Juche idea, but the culture that was espoused was Korea’s “indigenous traditional culture.”
According to literature on culture shock and transformative learning, people
become aware of their cultural frame of reference and their own cultural baggage—which have been taken for granted and remained tacit—when they encounter or immerse themselves in different cultures. Several salient cultural themes of North Korea emerged from conversation with consultants as they shared their experiences in the context of theological education, including theological schools and churches, in South Korea.
Collectivism
Collectivism and individualism are the main cultural constructs necessary to
understand cultural differences. Different countries show different degrees of combination of individualism and collectivism (Triandis 1995, 2). As recognized in Hofstede’s research (2005), South Korea is considered as one of the collectivist countries. The same is likely to be the case for North Korea. The North Korean regime has espoused collectivism and educated people in a collectivist spirit so that they would be loyal to their leader and the
Party and pursue the interests of the country and the people ahead of their own interests. Interestingly, in spite of the fact that both South Korea and North Korea are known as collectivistic cultures, North Korean defector theological students and graduates described cultural differences between the two cultures as differences between an individualistic culture and a collectivist culture. Consultants’ experience at theological schools or churches in South Korea reflected their collectivistic frame of reference in their emotional responses and interpretations. Their words also hinted at the complexity of their experience of South Korean culture that takes into account the fact that both individualism and collectivism coexist in the same society in different degrees in various sectors of the society, such as the family, workplaces, churches, and academic institutions (Deuchler 1992).
Tired of vs. Longing for Collectivistic Culture
Meetings, organizations, and encouraged or required participation in church
and in theological schools to some extent appeared to resemble the systems of North Korea where daily living revolved around organizational, collective activities and meetings. Regarding the organizational culture of churches or seminaries, some consultants explained that North Korean defectors in general tend to dislike attending or being forced to attend many services and meetings because they were tired of meetings and the group cultures in
North Korea (John, Naomi, Hannah). For instance, John said,
I often don’t participate in student government meetings. … North Korea emphasizes a collectivistic lifestyle. I wonder if the past experiences in which I felt sick and tired of collectivistic life within organizations in North Korea may have become a psychological factor that resulted in my low level of participation in all kinds of organizations. For instance, not many of those who came from North Korea are involved in churches in South Korea. Ninety percent of the North Korean defectors in China believe in God, but the percentage of those who settle in the church in South Korea is less than ten percent. It’s that low. One of the reasons, of course, is that they are busy and they need to earn money. But nonetheless they say, “church resembles the North Korean system,” “we need to be involved in much of corporate life again,” “we came out of North Korea because we abhorred the system, but church again hassles, nags, and pushes.”
Naomi also used the expression, “North Koreans are so tired of the collectivistic lifestyle.”
However, some consultants also shared their positive memories of the
community aspect of collectivistic life in North Korea. They denoted that they and other North Korean defectors were so accustomed to a group culture and being in a group that they long for it (Esther, Hannah). Esther described her sense of emptiness: “Because I used to live a collectivistic life there [in North Korea], I feel something is missing if I don’t join a group, even after I came here [South Korea]. Feeling a bit empty, I should belong to something.” She described the nostalgia that North Korean defectors have.
Even though there they [North Koreans] were hungry and ate just porridge or corn for lunch, there were songs, people, and energy. Yet, here we [North Korean defectors in South Korea] are all alone. Now we are free and eat well but we are like pigs. I talked to a woman. She said she is really lonely. She brought all her family members here and bought a good car. Outwardly she looks completely happy, but there is no fun. She thinks, “Did I come here to live like this?” Do you know why? It is because she tasted the kind of life in North Korea: she tasted enjoyment within the regulation of life. It was really fun. We go to work together, we sing, we clap, and we play together. You can’t imagine how pleasurable it was.
For that reason, some North Korean defectors sought to settle in the church to be mingled in community life but, Esther said, “they couldn’t settle” because they are often recognized and treated separately from South Korean congregations. She explained that this is why North Korean defectors start forming their own organizations that consist of their own people. Several other consultants shared positively about their communal social life, including a spirit of optimism and communality among the people and a military-like college life that they enjoyed (Priscilla, Esther, Andrew, John, Joseph).
Although there was a sense of frustration and hopelessness without the
freedom to make individual choices about their education, work, and future, as far as communal and social life was concerned, consultants did have sweet reminiscences of their lives in North Korea. In the midst of an individualistic and relatively affluent life in South Korea, they seemed to value and miss the communal aspect of life and the optimistic spirit among the people in North Korea. This kind of nostalgia was not something political. In addition, this sentiment was ambivalent with their sense of being tired of joining in an organizational collectivistic life in the church and school. To enhance social integration of North Korean defectors and South Koreans, careful observation may be needed to understand the meaning of this phenomenon. According to Noori Kim (2006), East Germans had a growing sense of nostalgia about the old East Germany after unification partly because they felt alienated and marginalized since what they had in the East before the unification—values, cultures, customs, knowledge, and skills—were altogether dismissed.
“Hyeong!”
Several consultants shared that one of the difficulties that they experienced on
campus was loneliness. They were much older than the other South Korean students, and that made it hard to make friends. Yet, speaking about their interaction with South Korean students, several male students (Philip, Joseph, Andrew, Peter) mentioned a title by which they were called. Having been surrounded by all that was unfamiliar to them, what spread big smiles on their lips was when they said to the researcher, “Younger South Korean students call me ‘Hyeong’ and follow me!” “Hyeong” is the term that a younger brother uses to address an older brother in a family. It is also used outside family when a younger male addresses a close older male in a friendly way. It appears that this kind of designation helped these consultants feel at home or gave them a sense of belonging to a community within their theological school.
Consultants who had positive experiences in theological schools often
mentioned that they had a small group of close friends, especially South Korean friends. Several consultants mentioned that this helped them in an impersonal environment with a large number of students in class and school or in the presence of people who seemed to have prejudices against North Koreans.
Redeem the Value of “One for All and All for One”
Because of their collectivistic life governed by group rules and regulations in North Korea, consultants’ experience of student government meetings in South Korean theological schools was awkward to them. For instance, Hannah said, “Existence of the student government body means little. Typically theological students are not interested in it and they all run away when it is announced that a student government meeting will be held.” She contrasted this with what was like in North Korea: “If there was a meeting like that in North Korea, there would be one hundred percent participation because otherwise the person who didn’t attend the meeting would be criticized.” Her concern about students in her theological school demonstrates her collectivistic habit of mind.
Here [her theological school], collective rules are so lacking. Only when issues have to do with their own interests, people gather. Otherwise, they are all on their own. There is really no regulation. If even these theological students are like this, it is really a big problem. “Stay!” they say, but everyone runs away. How, then, shall they live a collective life within a group? Even so, we can’t forcefully drag and let them sit because here is liberal democracy. That is something unsatisfying to me.
In fact, Hannah’s description of South Korean students participating in a meeting only when the nature of the meeting is related to their own interests reflects one of the social patterns of individualism. Triandis writes that in individualistic cultures, individuals perceive themselves as independent from the group that they belong to. Their actions are motivated by their own preferences, needs, and goals more than those of collective others in the group, and they engage in “rational analyses” of benefits and inconveniences in their decisions to join with others (Triandis 1995, 2).
Similar to Hannah, other consultants perceived individualistic traits among
South Korean theological students and pastors in contrast to collectivistic traits of North Koreans, and were concerned by a negative aspect of the former. For instance, John referred to a slogan that is seen everywhere in North Korea, “One for all and all for one.”
[In North Korea] we have a slogan, “One for All and All for One.” This is posted on the wall of every school. This collectivistic way of thinking is highly recognized as a virtue in the society. And so a beautiful lady gets married to a man with disability and we thought, “That’s how our society becomes a kind of society it ought to be.”
Such collectivism has virtues in North Korean society. Then, John shared an incident that took place in his South Korean church, which demonstrated a dark side of individualism contrary to the practice of the slogan “one for all and all for one” in North Korea.
A few associate pastors were going to leave in a couple of months. During the two months, while remaining in their positions, these pastors didn’t do any of their ministry duties which they were supposed to carry out until they left. So, the departments that they were in charge of fell into disorder and the church was jeopardized. I felt sorry and it made me compare this with that of North Korea.
For John, attitudes of prioritizing the interest of a group over the interest of an individual and looking after the interest of and giving loyalty to the in-group were taken for granted as important collective values (Hofstede and Hofstede 2005, 74-76). Several consultants, not only in individual interviews but also in the focus group interview, recognized that such a collectivistic frame of reference, which values setting the interests of others and the group ahead of personal interests, is more positive than the individualistic and somewhat selfish actions of South Koreans (Mary, Philip, Jeremy, Hannah, Daniel, and John).
Several consultants mentioned a demonstration that was initiated by a
student government body on campus. It conflicted in various ways with their culturallyframed points of view. Interestingly, the collective action of protests was seen as rather selfish, driven by trivial interest-seeking. Daniel complained that the student body interrupts students’ study by organizing protests.
Why did they make all students impossible to study? … The main purpose of the student government body should improve academic achievement of all students—academic achievement! You should not leave a person alone, saying, “If you got an F, that is your fault.” The student government body should be able to bear the responsibility together with the person. They should set a goal that in this semester, all students shall get an A+ over all courses and really …
Daniel’s idea of the student government setting a goal of helping all students get an A+ demonstrates a collectivistic goal and practice of North Korean educational institutions. In contrast, maintaining or developing one’s academic achievement belongs to the individual realm in South Korea. Each student should look after his or her grades. In fact, a few consultants appreciated the fact that some of the students in theological schools were willing to share what they studied with other students. It was considered as contrary to their expectation of competition and selfishness in a capitalist society.
Difference in Interpersonal Relationships and Communication Styles
Several consultants stated that because North Koreans and South Koreans
grew up in different cultures, they seemed to have adopted different verbal expressions, different communication styles, and different ways of relating to and engaging with others. Joseph said that South Koreans do not open their hearts to those whom they don’t know well, but North Koreans thought of this type of people as sly. As for North Koreans, he stated that even if it is their first time seeing a person, they tend to open up everything to that person. However, he found that South Koreans did not seem to understand or feel comfortable with the North Korean way. Joseph illustrated this in terms of opening one’s home or visiting others’ homes.
And we open our home very easily. People may just come in. For South Koreans, unless they say “come,” they would think of it as strange if we just visit. But for us, we just visit without sending a notice ahead of time. We knock on the door and go in. This is the way we do it. Maybe it is because here is a competitive society. In North Korea we don’t have private property and there is no such thing like a property law. Things are different.
Joseph believed that in order for North Korean defectors to be pastors in South Korea, they need to learn the language, ways of relating to others, and types of communication that are appropriate to the South Korean culture. While admitting the need to learn cultural forms in South Korea, consultants also indicated that South Korean cultural ways are not ideal. John construed that the Western influence on South Korea was not just economic, but also cultural. As a result, as John perceived, South Korea has adopted an individualistic culture but lost much of a communal life where people share lives together in webs of relationships.
Indifference and Lack of Social Consciousness
One of the individualistic cultural aspects of South Korea that consultants
disapproved of was indifference. This indifference was perceived in South Korean students’ attitude about North Korean defector students on campus at an interpersonal level.
Moreover, consultants noted that a sense of indifference about social issues, a lack of concern about North Korea, and negligence about the wrongdoings of others are widespread in the societal ethos of Korean churches, schools, and society (Joseph, Jeremy, Hannah, Paul,
Elisha, Daniel, Andrew).
For instance, Jeremy shared about a conflict he experienced when he rebuked
a classmate who cheated. He generalized the event by concluding:
People here in South Korea do not care things like that. People here, although they saw injustice done, think that it is none of their business because if they stand up against it, they may suffer a disadvantage and lose face. However, North Koreans still have a tendency to intervene in matters that have nothing to do with them.
According to Triandis, in a collectivist society “‘putting one’s nose in another person’s business’ is perfectly natural and expected” because one person’s wrongdoing is not a matter of the individual but a community concern, and defending and maintaining the community’s norms is a responsibility of every member of the community (1995, 3). This provides a relevant explanation for the act of confronting and scolding a student and a professor for wrongdoings, something that was done by a couple of consultants (Daniel, Jeremy). The consultants had a high standard of what the community of a theological school where God’s servants were trained should be like, and they tried to uphold that standard by taking an action without deliberating on the personal advantages and disadvantages of doing so.
Confucianism and a Large Power Distance Culture
Consultants’ points of view and attitudes revealed that North Korean culture
has preserved Confucian values and norms—including social hierarchy and orders that define various relationships and gender roles in the patriarchal family system, as well as virtues that espouse clean poverty and value honor over material possessions—to a greater extent than has South Korea. These values and norms functioned as a lens through which consultants’ educational experiences were captured.
Patriarchal System and Power Distance
Power distance, or the power and equality construct, is claimed to be
“culturally universal” along with the collectivism and individualism construct (Oyserman 2006, 355; Hofstede and Hofstede 2005). Hofstede discovered that large-power-distance countries also tend to be more collectivistic countries. Applying this to North Korea may sound awkward, since North Korea is a socialist country which is supposed to advocate equality instead of a large-power-distance hierarchical social order as a characteristic of the society. However, the North Korean regime has developed “socialism in our own style” by adapting Confucianism into their socialist system. Therefore, though North Korea espouses equality, the culture embodies a hierarchical, authoritarian, bureaucratic organization that resembles unequal Confucian social structures in various relationships. Paul explained that North Korea integrated the traditional patriarchal system of Confucian culture into the society.
The most important culture among the traditional national cultures that North Korea preserved and enhanced was the traditional patriarchal system of the Confucian culture. The patriarchal family is one which consists of father as the head of the family and children, and relationships are orderly. In order to preserve this culture, we have our father, who is Kim Il Sung, and we need to be united into one around our father. Just as a family must be one around a father as the central figure, we as a country, like a large family, must be one around Suryong as the central figure of our popular masses.
This metaphor of the country as one large family with a father as its head was used to legitimate the totalitarian rule of Kim Il Sung and the succession of his son, Kim Jong Il, and to demand unquestioned loyalty from the people. Because the regime instilled the image of one large family in the minds of people, North Korea’s revolution was carried out or perceived differently from the revolutions in the Soviet Union and China. Just as filial piety is a primary taken-for-granted virtue that is required of children toward parents in a Confucian family, the North Korean regime was successfully able to evoke loyalty, sacrificial love, and obedience from the masses toward their leader and the instructions of the Party without falling into either “the disruptive terror of Stalinism” or “the anarchy of the Chinese Cultural Revolution” (Shin 2005, 6). Inequality in human relationships is admitted in North Korean culture as it was in a Confucian society and in a typical large-powerdistance culture.
Many comments from consultants affirmed that North Korean society has
conserved Confucian cultural aspects not only in patriarchal family structures but also in gender relations, relationships between teachers and students, and ethics.
Social Order and Gender
Several consultants described their family tradition as Confucian. Esther
shared that she grew up in a large Confucian family where great-grandparents and grandparents lived together. She described the atmosphere of her family as follows:
But I had one scar in my heart. North Korea is a male-centered society. I think South Korea is rather free. So from my childhood, I did my best in order to earn my father’s recognition. If I open a book and study, my father liked it so much and he didn’t ask me to do any house chores if I am studying.
The honor given to a firstborn male and the value placed on studying and learning reflect the typical patriarchal and Confucian culture. Esther perceived a change in her parents’ relational dynamics after they left North Korea and stayed in China, and it distressed her.
I came to China with my father and mother. Since they came to China, they fought a lot. My father was a really strong and strict person, but I saw my father lose to my mom in a fight. In fact, my mom was a typical North Korean woman—if my father yelled at her, she just shrank. Now, I see my father losing to Mom. I was really broken.
Mary also mentioned her shock when she encountered a different social order and form of relationship between male and female in China.
In his theological school, Tim stated that his traditional Confucian view of
male and female was challenged in a class that teaches postmodern, feministic perspectives.
There are some inherent values that deserve to be kept in tradition. So we need to preserve them while we are to be open and receptive about relativistic ideas. However, liberal theology tries to deconstruct everything. Even they demolish and question the ideal image of a woman, that is, “a wise mother and good wife.” Of course, if the image of the woman as “a wise mother and good wife” was created by an oppressive feudalistic society, it is inappropriate. However, the beauty and virtue of the woman that we espouse is still the obedient and sacrificial one. Yet it [liberal theology] demolishes it, too.
Consultants did not say that they continue to hold a view of male predominance over female, but it is likely that they are still more conservative in some aspects than South Koreans. For instance, several students made reference to ways in which female students dressed up and how couples were dating in public on campus.
Teacher-Student Relationship
Students’ attitudes toward professors in the classroom were addressed
frequently by consultants. Many consultants shared their perplexing classroom experiences in terms of teacher-student relationships. For instance, students ask questions freely even when they are not called on by professors; students challenge professors by asking bold questions; students eat in the class; and students do texting with their cell phones and play computer games during the class while the professor is present in the classroom. Consultants explained that, in North Korea, students all stand up when a teacher enters a classroom, students do not speak up or ask questions unless they are called to do so by the teacher, and teachers are respected and have authority over students.
In consultants’ eyes, the power distance between students and teachers in
South Korea was not as large as it was in North Korea. Mary was perplexed by a student protest against a professor or administrator of the school, requesting their resignation. She said,
I thought that it was too merciless. You know, they are students … Of course, professors should ask forgiveness, but as theological students … that’s too much. I think there is a lot of what can be described as feudalistic within me. Because he is nevertheless a professor …
The attitude that Mary described as “feudalistic” has to do with respecting authority.
Joseph described something similar.
Students sometimes ask strange things of a teacher. I don’t know how to explain but it is shocking. That’s too bold. Something like, “Professor, it can be explained in that way but what about this?” I’m thinking, “That guy is audacious! If he did that in North Korea, he would have been expelled and hit by a bat.” I don’t know well because I didn’t go to college in North Korea, but here students are very open, unrestricted. They don’t feel ill at ease with professors.
In a large-power-distance culture, it is natural that students do not feel at ease with teachers as much as they do with their equals, and that they act in a restricted manner in order to give room for respect to the authority.
Comparing Teachers: Pure Sacrifice vs. Material Rewards
In Confucianism, filial piety, loyalty, and honor to parents, teachers, and those
in authority have reciprocal aspect (Shin 2005). Those who hold authority should act in a way that is sacrificial and exemplary for those who are under their authority. A few consultants contrasted teachers in North and South Korea (Tim, Mary, Daniel). Mary talked about her daughter’s teacher and professors in general.
I have a daughter. Education in South Korea … teachers just took money.
As for teachers in North Korea, they are given just a small amount of money
with which they can live from hand to mouth. But they do their best for students to succeed. Teachers here don’t have a sense of responsibility for students’ success. They feel okay as far as they get paid. So, they give their work a lick and a promise. They seem to have neither a sense of responsibility for what they are doing nor a conviction that by teaching students, they’re preparing the future of the country. They just do it because they are professors or teachers. I don’t know; this is just how I think. It may not be right, but I felt that way.
It seemed to Mary that North Korean teachers worked sacrificially for honor and for the larger cause, but teachers or professors in South Korea worked for money. Likewise, Tim contrasted professors in South Korea with those in North Korea.
As for professors in North Korea, as intellectuals, they study and still teach students a right morality that was distinct from how the world operates. They were different from other groups of people. Of course, their perspectives and the purpose of studying and teaching were different from here [ideologically], but they were nonetheless upholding high qualities like uncorruptedness and nobleness. However, professors in South Korea do not seem to be distinguished from the rest of the people. They pursue wealth, power, and fame to the same extent that the rest of the world does.
Tim claimed that in spite of their advanced knowledge, professors in North Korea looked rather naïve and innocent from a worldly perspective as they lived out higher moral standards.
Consultants, in fact, appreciated respectful South Korean teachers. For
instance, Tim shared about a Korean missionary whom he regarded as a true teacher. Tim had gotten to know him since he was in China, and he stated that he does not call him pastor but “teacher.” For him, a teacher and student relationship is not an egalitarian relationship. He described his relationship with the missionary: “I introduce our relationship as a teacherdisciple relationship. It’s because this pastor sacrificed his family for me and his sacrifice was much beyond a sacrifice that even father makes for his son. So, I am morally inspired and, therefore, following after him.” However, Tim said this kind of teacher “is hard to find in the capitalist country.” His ideal image of the teacher corresponded with that of a powerdistance culture where teachers and students are not equals and teachers have authority and provide a model for students to follow (Hofstede and Hofstede 2005). Additionally, other consultants appreciated the humility of teachers that they met in theological educational contexts (Hannah, Phoebe).
Consultants’ words revealed their point of view on how teachers should look;
their expectations were established by their point of view and the values behind it. They reflected values of learning, diligence, self-sacrifice, and disregard of material possessions (Walsh 2005).
The phrases “working not for the sake of earning money” or “working not
because it is a job” were repeatedly addressed by consultants in other interview contexts as well. A capitalist approach to profession was not seen as a noble virtue.
Educational Experience in North Korea
Except for a few cases in which the researcher needed to ask probing
questions to elicit further reflection, consultants constantly and naturally recalled and reflected their learning experience in theological school in South Korea in light of their learning experience in the North Korean educational system.
Demographic Survey
In terms of their educational backgrounds in North Korea, nearly half of the
eighteen consultants (eight) said they had graduated from either college or university. The rest of the consultants finished their secondary education before they left North Korea. In terms of their educational experience in South Korea, three consultants were currently in their last year in a Bachelor’s degree program a theological school, majoring in either theology or Christian education; one student had earned a B.A. and was involved in fulltime ministry; five consultants had completed Master of Divinity (M.Div.) programs and were involved in fulltime ministry; nine consultants were currently enrolled in an M.Div. program, and three of these nine were concurrently earning a graduate-level counseling degree at another institution.
“I Started from Scratch”
Mary opened her mouth, expressing her contentment: “I am so grateful that I
finished my B.A. with a grade point average of above B+, in spite of the fact that I restarted from scratch, from zero.” She shared her times of tears due to academic difficulties, especially taking an English course, but she expressed how she was grateful about the fact that her grades got higher and higher. Then she explained, “Even though let’s say there is a person who graduated from a college in North Korea … because education in North Korea is not an education. It is a religious education.” Mary’s words, “I restarted from zero,” seem to capture many other consultants’ academic experiences in theological schools in South
Korea.
Knowledge That Was Not Indeed Knowledge: Religious or Political Education
Consultants described education in North Korea as either political or religious
education because it is tainted with political ideology and used for the idolization of two leaders, Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. Andrew and Philip reported that whatever major they were in, whether social science or natural science, North Korean students were all taught “Works of the Great Leader Kim Il Sung,” “History of Revolution,” “Party Policy.” Moreover, Hannah indicated that it was not just several courses that were taught for political educational purposes, but every course was taught from the political or religious perspective. “North Korean professors,” she said, “teach socialist economics, planned economy, statistics, and everything, based on instructions and words of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il.” In the same train of thought, interestingly, Jeremy compared North Korean education with Christian education: “North Korean education is indoctrination education for totalitarianism that is intended to cultivate loyalty to Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. So we have a teacher in charge of brainwashing political education, just as there is a chaplain in a Christian mission school who preaches, instructs, and disciplines.” Since she came to Korea, Hannah realized that what she had learned for five years in her college was “meaningless” by nullifying the knowledge taught in higher education in North Korea. She contended, “they offer knowledge that is not indeed knowledge.”
Language Barrier: English and Loanwords
The majority of consultants mentioned that language or communication was
one of the most challenging parts of their learning experience. In fact, the language barrier is recognized by North Korean defectors, including our consultants, not only in academic settings but also in churches, workplaces, and daily lives (S. Kim 2005). Two-thirds of the consultants expressed their struggle with English. They had learned English in North Korea, but it did not prepare them enough to take college English courses or to make sense of sentences in which English words were randomly mixed by professors. The latter is, in fact, a cultural issue rather than purely a language issue, since it is a popular cultural phenomenon that South Koreans mingle English or “Konglish” words into sentences spoken in Korean. The researcher observed that some of the theological classes relied heavily on English terminologies.
Absence of or Difference in Fundamental Knowledge: Lack of Cultural Capital
Another issue had to do with a knowledge gap, or cultural capital that South Koreans have but consultants do not have due to their educational and sociocultural background in North Korea. This issue was not related to a problem of language or a lack of Bible knowledge. As Peter described,
Studying was very hard. I had some basic understanding of what theology is when I entered the theological school. Yet, as I began studying there, I heard things that I had not known about—which country, who said this, who said that, and so I could not understand. … Although I look through all the books, I still have no idea in what year what incident happened. Therefore, I bought three books so as to lay a foundation. Reading them, I figured those things out. “Ah! This year, this incident happened.” “In the eighteenth century, this scholar spoke about this.” By doing so, I started building a foundation. It was extremely difficult. After those times passed, things have gotten easier now.
In fact, Peter told the researcher that his knowledge of the Scriptures was far better than South Koreans’. The difficulty rested on the fact that he lacked some fundamental knowledge that was required to understand the course, which involved names of certain historical or philosophical figures, world chronology, and certain historical incidents. Joseph perceived different levels of readiness between South Koreans and North Koreans in terms of an academic foundation in pursuing theological education.
South Korean students, they played soccer games and went out for football and went to bed at one or two in the morning. … Yet when we take exams, they know everything. So I asked them, “You guys play all the time and when did you study?” “We learned those things in the high school,” they replied. I was shocked. So, I realized that we could not compete with them.
Joseph then elaborated on the foundational knowledge he felt he was lacking.
For instance, let’s say history. In order to talk about God, things are related to history. These folks already knew them. Not that they learned theologically or from a faith-related perspective, but as they learned world history, you know, the history of the world is the history of God. That’s why it was easy for them. Foreign figures, I still have no idea, Augus— … someone like that, this kind of people. Then, also philosophers, those names are supposed to spark some ideas, “Oh, that’s who! He said, ‘A law is law, however undesirable it may be,’ and his philosophy is what?” If someone names a philosopher, then you were supposed to have an organized knowledge about what the philosopher said and did. However, for me, I cannot remember such foreign names and historical events.
Information that students might be assumed to already know prior to entering college—such as prominent philosophers and historical figures and their words, epochal events in history, and chronologies of world history—were unfamiliar to the consultants because they had not learned such general matters in the way that South Koreans learned them. In North Korea they learned, for instance, about proletarian revolution in different parts of the world instead of world history in general. Elisha said that North Korea has a historical perspective, but it is the Juche historical perspective. Only certain historical events were highlighted and interpreted based on class struggles between proletariat and bourgeois and on North Korean
Juche nationalism.
The gap of knowledge recognized by consultants was a result of North Korea’s null curriculum—that which North Korean education does not teach. One consultant pointed out its critical impact on consultants’ learning. Priscilla shared that some North Korean defectors gave up theological education altogether or gave up learning rigorously, settling for just graduating. One of the critical factors that influenced them to have such postures about their education was their lack of fundamental knowledge that, as Priscilla realized, was a necessary foundation for understanding theology and developing knowledge to discern heresies.
Because philosophy is difficult and they don’t know Hegel and those, they just give up, thinking, “Whatever, let me just graduate.” Even those students who graduated from colleges in North Korea don’t make an effort to make what they learned here their own knowledge. … The educational curriculum that we learned in North Korea was different because the educational system was created by Marx, like, “a society evolves into a socialist society.” Capitalism here, things are different. Because they are different, we have to help them to relearn. We need to teach them how this discipline called theology has been brought forth. Only then, theology can be understood easily; they will be able to learn how to discern heresies; they will not give up study all together; and they won’t take shortcuts in their study just for the sake of getting it done.
For that reason, Priscilla asserted that in order to facilitate effective learning in theological education for North Korean defector students and North Koreans in the future, schools should teach basic knowledge such as philosophy and history. In fact, the classes that consultants most frequently identified as helpful and engaging were history classes such as History of the Western World, History of European Intellectualism, and History of the Church, classes about worldview or cultural issues, philosophy classes, and psychology or counseling classes.
The perceived knowledge gap had ramifications not only on learning in
educational settings, but also on mundane interactions with South Koreans. Tim claimed that the very foundation of knowledge that constitutes North Koreans’ basic views of history, the world, and human behaviors is different from that of South Koreans.
A value system, a worldview, and a view on others are all different from South Koreans. Where are such differences derived? The very foundation of the information that constitutes a value system is completely different. History? We learned it totally differently. We learned that Kim Il Sung accomplished everything and the Korean War was ignited by South Korea’s attack on North Korea. Everything is different.
From Tim’s perspective, the absence or distortedness of a fundamental cultural literacy appeared to be at the heart of the problem. This hinders North Korean defectors not only in gaining a rich understanding of theology in relation to relevant historical and cultural contexts, but also in building meaningful social interactions with South Korean students and professors.
Against this backdrop, several consultants recommended that North Koreans
or North Korean defectors begin theological education from college rather than directly from seminary, even if they acquired a college degree in North Korea. Paul affirmed his decision to start from college again, even though he went to university in North Korea and had theological training in China. He stated, “Just as we need to learn the law of Romans in order to ‘do as Romans do when in Rome,’ it was a good opportunity for me to learn and to read cultural codes of South Korea and recognize value systems of South Korea.” Paul’s words implied that he acquired cultural capital that is required to function effectively in South Korean society. He asserted that such learning helped him to succeed in the ministry in which he was currently involved at a South Korean church where there was no other North Korean but him. He was equipped to serve there without having any conflict or disharmony triggered by cultural differences with South Korean staff and congregations.
Therefore, the findings suggested that when they as North Korean defectors
started their theological education, the consultants lacked, to a different extent, meaning schemes through which they could make sense of what theology as an academic discipline was about and understand related ideas as they studied theologies. They needed the cultural capital or cultural literacy that lays a foundation for understanding theological concerns, debates, and ideas in context. Furthermore, their learning experience of theological education was, to some extent, part of their acculturation process through which they gained knowledge and learned skills that enabled them to speak and behave in a culturally appropriate way and function effectively in South Korean society.
Education in North Korea was “Banking” Education
Consultants’ perceptions of the characteristics of education in North Korea
were almost unanimous. Descriptions that consultants provided were as follows. Esther stated, “North Korean people grow up memorizing,” “classes proceed in a typical lecture style,” and “a professor teaches in front and students learn.” Hannah said, “My learning style is a North Korean way. I always take notes on what the professor says in class and I don’t miss a single word.” Jeremy defined North Korean education as “totalitarian education that indoctrinates.” It is likely that education in North Korea is similar to what Freire (1993) described as “banking education.” It was teacher-centered education, and lecture was the main teaching method used in class. The students’ role was passive: to listen, memorize, and take notes on what they heard from the teacher. Class was in order: students spoke when the teacher called their names.
Consultants indicated that the North Korean regime did not teach diverse
perspectives for students to compare and make judgments. In fact, a consultant claimed that North Korea should not and could not teach different perspectives because it had to maintain the totalitarian regime. Tim stated,
North Korea should not teach anything different from [the regime’s viewpoints]. The regime must not teach people the ability to think. In the educational system, it provides just compulsory knowledge but it does not teach how to think. The ability to think is reasoning. Do you know when people develop the ability to think? It is when there are different things that people can compare and ask, “Why are they so different?” For that reason, North Korea offers only one: “You should know and do only this one.”
According to Tim, the North Korean regime does not want people to learn how to think, so it teaches from just one perspective. There are no alternative perspectives available for the people to compare and contrast and, therefore, learn how to make their own decisions about which perspective is right or better based on their reasoning and assessment.
Naomi explained how such banking education in North Korea had affected
North Koreans’ ways of learning.
Education in North Korea is banking. It is an education that indoctrinates and it is rote learning, memorizing dal dal dal. People in North Korea don’t need to use their brains much. So, they cannot think deeply. Because of that, their greatest weakness is creativity. Also, their thinking is quite restrained.
So, if they are not given a topic, it is hard for them to choose freely and do it. If you ask them to do so, their minds will turn blank. So, if a school is established in North Korea, a theological school, I think that with this education system that we have in South Korea, it is going to be tough. It’s because they have their own accustomed way that has been cemented for thirty or forty years. Here, things are so free, like asking sharp questions. But North Korea is not like that.
Naomi pointed out that students who were accustomed to the North Korean educational system are likely lacking in capacity to think deeply, creatively, and autonomously. They were not trained to be self-directive learners who ask critical questions and choose topics that are interesting to themselves. Sharon also shared that she had never engaged in critical thinking about what the regime taught the people.
Confusion Triggered by a Different Way of Teaching and Learning in South Korea
Esther found various methodologies used in class in South Korea,
methodologies such as small groups, presentations, and sharing their own stories, to be enjoyable. However, several consultants demonstrated that they were confused by classes that offered multiple perspectives and encyclopedia-like presentations instead of giving one right answer. Priscilla shared,
I was wondering about a teaching method here when I first came to
South Korea, because in South Korea there is no correct answer. But in North Korea, everything has a correct answer. For instance, “Who is the great leader Kim Il Sung?” Then, there is a right answer. However, there is no correct answer here [in South Korea]. It can be this or it can be that. It is said like that here. It was greatly confusing.
Other consultants said that the way knowledge was organized and presented in the South Korean theological schools seemed to be something of a hodgepodge. Esther recalled her first impression on studying theology as follows:
I really hated theology. In China I was just learning to look upon God at that time, and my future was utterly dark. Then, why would “who said this and who said that” matter to me? So, I hated it. With that impression in my mind, I was holding the doorknob to avoid entering a theological school.
John likewise stated that classes were all about “who said what.” He pointed out that knowledge seems fragmented in the theological school.
To be honest, maybe my way of studying is a problem. … Nevertheless, I think knowledge is really fragmented here. If I ask friends around me about how they think about what they have learned, they unanimously answer that they cannot hold things together in order. … One of the factors that contributed to the problem is that I believe professors should teach essential things clearly. Yet, they only deal with arguments that were recognized in the academic society, especially with their own philosophical arguments in a textbook that they had published recently. So, students could not learn what is fundamental, but only learn those [recent arguments about academically sophisticated issues]. For that reason, they could not make connections and hold things together in order, and as a result they are confused.
John argued that the confusion was felt not only by North Korean defector students who had grown up in a North Korean educational system and were therefore unaccustomed to hearing diverse perspectives and theorists, but by South Korean students as well. From his perspective, the problem was caused by professors who failed to depict general outlines, provide good introductions, and teach essential things clearly, but instead presented fragmented particular bits and pieces of knowledge that demonstrated fresh scholarly trends.
More specifically, Daniel critiqued the ways in which course contents were
organized and presented in classes by professors and in textbooks.
If they [South Koreans] would like to do education in North Korea, they must change completely, starting from textbooks. … Let me say, well … for instance, think about theology in church history. If it is theology of the early church, then professors have to make a general presentation or a general introduction of early church theology. And then they should deal with heretics who deviated from it. I hope they do it this way. But South Korea does not do so. They just pick and take names of theologians and dump here and there. They educate in that way.
Daniel mentioned that this kind of educational style was seen not only in theology courses but also in other courses such as psychology, where professors just dumped information about each theorist, such Piaget or Kohlberg, without beginning with an overarching introduction that gave a clear definition of what Christian psychology is. Daniel stressed that the North Korean way was different, and in fact better.
North Korean education is not like this. Every textbook was organized in that way [that he described earlier]. Therefore, it was convenient to study and easy to understand. They make a clear presentation of the overarching big picture and then say, here are reference books.
For Daniel, the way the course materials were organized and presented in North Korean classrooms or textbooks, moving from a general overview to details, was more logical, made better sense, and was more effective.
In addition, Mary had not found it meaningful to learn about what other
theologians and theorists have said about a part of Scripture.
This [Scripture] is the correct answer. This is the Word of God. But these [ideas or books in theology] are what human beings made. No matter how right they are, they are still works of human beings and derived from Scripture. Thousands of and many ten thousands of people read Scripture and wrote. I don’t need to learn all those. Those people found one idea from Scripture and wrote and wrote. If the Holy Spirit comes, he teaches everything. And everything is in Scripture.
Since Scripture is the truth and the right answer, and the Holy Spirit illuminates the truth for Christians to understand, Mary was convinced that she could understand what Scripture teaches and that it was of little value to focus on studying how others interpreted Scripture— even if they wrote correct things—since this was secondary or derivative from Scripture.
South Korean Education is “Rather” or “Also” Banking Education
As reported earlier, some consultants perceived that their learning experience
in their theological school in South Korea was contrary to the education they experienced in North Korea, which was characterized by indoctrination, teaching by rote, and a cramming method of education. South Korean education was perceived as using various methodologies besides lecture, offering diverse or relativistic perspectives, and developing critical and autonomous thinking in classes (Priscilla, Phoebe, Naomi, Sharon, Tim, Andrew). However, other consultants contended that South Korean education was likewise characterized by rote learning, banking education, and lecture as a predominant teaching method.
Referring to his experience in his school in South Korea, Jeremy shared that
he sensed little difference between the two educational systems.
There are questions and answers. We take a test by memorizing them. It is almost similar to North Korea. The study method in North Korea is just a cramming style through short term memory. If you surely memorize things, you can do well. It was to a great extent the same in college here [in South Korea].
Jeremy therefore had little problem adjusting to teaching and learning styles in the theological school. Likewise, Hannah indicated that even though she was not satisfied with her learning because she could not engage in deep learning, her rote memory learning style from North Korea was effective in South Korea as well, letting her get good grades. Her comment implied that there is much more to study in South Korea, but the way to study is the same in South Korea and North Korea.
Paul’s view was more interesting. According to Paul, South Korean
education actually appeared to be more of a banking education than the North Korean education that he had experienced. Paul was educated in a “very competitive elite university” in North Korea, and his school had adapted a European educational system that combined “a deductive and an inductive method. In class, students were actively engaged in much discussion, though half of the class time was also devoted to lecture.” As he entered theological school, Paul expected much more competition and a higher academic standard and quality of students and professors because the school is in South Korea, a “capitalist country.” However, what he found was different from his expectation, and it was disappointing.
I came to South Korea. The education in South Korea was, rather unexpectedly, indoctrination. It was in a North Korean way. That was absurd.
And the most striking fact is that students don’t study. It was strange to me. … Concerning presentation in class, they [South Korean students] don’t want to do it. So, when we do group study, it was always me who did presentation from college to graduate school. I told them, “It is just speaking our thought, why is it so hard? I’ll do it.” … Students were really afraid of doing presentations. For us [North Korean students], we are accustomed, accustomed with the culture, the presentation culture.
Paul asserted that the South Korean education system in general seemed to have a cramming style that closes people’s thinking.
Rather, educational system in South Korea is banking. So, it is strictly confined by a frame. It requires a correct answer. … When I observe church education as well, the South Korean education is banking, constrained by a fixed frame, requiring a right answer. Because of the education, children seem to have no creativity. The range of their thinking is closed and sealed. They are reversed. The South Korean educational system is supposed to be open while the North Korean education system is supposed to be closed, but the truth is, it is rather the other way around. Rather, North Korea is [open] and South Korea is [closed].
Naomi’s description of North Korean students who lack creativity and autonomous thinking was applied to South Koreans by Paul and John. As a result of banking education, South Koreans, including children, had their thinking confined by a fixed frame imposed on them.
John also agreed with the point.
Paul explained that not all schools in North Korea encourage and develop an
open, creative way of thinking; but, as far as the education of leaders and elites who are prepared to lead the country is concerned, the North Korean regime teaches them how to think.
For the rest of the people, they do banking education that requires correct answers. It is because these people were not educated to be scientists or elites but were cultivated to be laborers. So, they would comply to and submit to the regime. They don’t need to learn to think freely.
This is very similar to Freire’s discussion of banking education for the oppressed, implemented by “the oppressors” who desire to continue to hold and legitimize their privileged status (1993). Based on Freire’s understanding, oppressors don’t want to raise the consciousness of the masses, but through education they deposit knowledge that would be necessary to maintain the existing social structures and create a culture of silence among the masses.
Thomas’s words added a different dimension to the present finding about the
banking style education in South Korea. He offered a serious critique of the way in which his theological school facilitated spiritual formation. According to Thomas, this was done in an indoctrination manner. He explained, “There are many things that you must not do as theological students. For those who grew up in this culture, those things are just taken for granted. For instance, they don’t smoke and they don’t drink.” However, as for the people like himself, he said, “they could rebel if the school just forbid them from doing things but do so without providing any explanation of why.” The following remarks show what made
Thomas wrestle with this issue.
Religion itself, as we see, from a socialist perspective, I think … Yes. They say, “Doesn’t a religion make people foolish and paralyze thinking and make them unable to think for themselves? So, it is not right.” As a matter of fact, in socialism, we received hostile religious education which taught that Christianity and religion were superstitions. They are superstitions and paralyze our minds like opium. Now I am here in a theological school. As I see the way that the theological school educates, I think what they [in North Korea] told us was right. A religion is, indeed, like a superstition, just as we were taught in North Korea. It, indeed, made us unable to think on our own and unable to do autonomous thinking. There are, indeed, many elements to think that religion makes a person a fool.
In North Korea, it was taught that religion, like opium, numbs and paralyzes people’s reason. Students were given little explanation and little room for thinking and asking questions about why they needed to believe and do what they were taught to believe and do. This made Thomas think that what the regime taught about religion and Christianity was right, because the Christianity he experienced in South Korea in fact prevented people from thinking on their own and compelled them to just believe and follow.
Epistemological Perspective Transformation
There were consultants who stated positively that their ways of thinking and
learning had changed since they studied in their theological schools. For some, changes in their epistemological point of view had been integrated into their lifestyles, changing their character and the ways in which they made ethical judgments.
Change in Learning Styles
Some consultants indicated that, after a period of confusion, they acquired a
new way of learning (Priscilla, Tim, Sharon). Priscilla described,
After about two months, it started making sense to me. Here, South Korea does not adhere to one uniformed world as the North Korean regime does. Here we talk about people from various countries across the world, for instance, how Warfield stated, one put it in this way, another said in that way. Then, from them, people process, search, and define what reformed theology is. That is a learning process here [South Korean way]. By doing so, an academic discipline advances. On the contrary, for that reason, it was not so in North Korea. Education in North Korea is indoctrination. So, now I understand that. I can now think, “ah, this person said this, that person said that.” But having read them, I myself read Scripture and come to a conclusion that this is closer to what Scripture says. Through the process I establish my own conclusion. I discovered how people here learn and study.
She suggests that North Korea teaches in the way it does because it wants to maintain the world that the regime has created in the minds of North Koreans—the “socially constructed world” or “symbolic universe,” in Berger’s terms (1967). To guard the world that it has created in the minds of the people, the regime had to prevent diverse, divergent perspectives and critical thinking from being taught in educational settings. On the contrary, in South Korea, pluralistic views from different people are offered in classrooms. Students had to learn how to make their own judgment about what is right or wrong among diverse perspectives. Like Priscilla, Sharon reported that she has learned how to study in South Korea and her learning style has changed. She stated that she is no longer satisfied with either learning a single identical perspective, as she did in North Korea, or even just listening to multiple perspectives, as experienced in some classes in South Korea. Instead, she was learning to think critically and create synthesis.
Change in the Black-and-White, Dichotomous Way of Thinking (Tim as Case Study)
Several consultants mentioned their black–and-white propensities in their
personalities, relationships, ways of thinking, ways of making judgments, or practice of faith. The following section focuses on Tim’s case. “I changed so much,” he said. Then, he explained how he used to be.
I had been captured by absolutism so that I was aggressive and negative. Whatever I saw, I thought, “Why is it like that?” Everything I looked at seemed awkward. So, I opposed and criticized.
However, Tim said that while studying at his theological school he learned “many relativistic viewpoints and disciplines.” As a result, he said, his absolutism and the attitudes derived from that absolutism changed.
I came to realize there are many realms that are not absolute realms. Since I learned many relativistic viewpoints and disciplines in my theological school … I cast into doubt my ways of thinking and my absolute standards. While crushing and analyzing them, I realized that things that I held absolutely without any reservation were meaningless. Then I started laying down one by one and substituted them for alternatives. Simply speaking, if I could compare myself in the past to a triangle with sharp angles, I am now a round circle. I do have a firm center, but the outside is changed to be flexible and soft.
Tim said, “Coming here [to his seminary], the scope and richness of my thinking has been expanded and so I am no longer credulous.” He has acquired discernment. His perspective transformation didn’t come easily, however. Tim described his experience of South Korean education as follows:
I came to South Korea. Education is like a department store. I was very confused in the beginning. It spreads things widely and says, “Choose and eat what you want to eat.” In addition, it in fact says, “You don’t need to eat if you don’t want.” That’s the difference [from North Korea]. … Well, I think a South Korean way of teaching does not create a fixed frame. It displays everything just as a department store does: “Here is this and that.”
For Tim, his school sometimes became extreme in the name of academic rigor, destroying everything, including what should be considered as absolutes. Although some provocative ideas, such as “theology of prostitutes,” were disorienting and shocking on first hearing, Tim explained that he changed in that, instead of quickly closing his ears, now he listens and can nod his head and agree if there is truth in these ideas. By taking courses that present relativist viewpoints and by processing them, Tim found that his perspective became more open and inclusive.
Tim’s epistemological perspective transformation involved critical reflection
on ways of teaching and learning not only in North Korea, but also in South Korea, as illustrated in the following statement.
However, I think there should be a way. Everything can’t be right. I think there should be a realm of absolutes and a realm of relatives. Things in the relative realm can be freely accepted.
Tim critiqued an encyclopedia-like presentation of knowledge and relativism that deems everything relative. He also commented on classes in which professors destroy everything in the name of academic rigor.
According to Mezirow’s transformative learning theory, consultants’
experience of different ways of teaching and learning in their theological schools and their exposure to diverse or opposing ideas presented in classes challenged the ways of thinking they assimilated in North Korea. Some of the consultants adopted alternative ways of thinking that were more open and inclusive. Furthermore, as their black-and-white or “dualistic thinking” changed toward “multiplistic thinking” or a more inclusive and open perspective (Khine 2008, 327), consultants also implemented and integrated the change in their behaviors and attitudes (Mezirow 1991; 2000; 2009). Tim stated that his perspective transformation affected other aspects of his life. He started his story by describing how North Korean society had influenced and socialized its people to have a black-and-white way of thinking and behaving.
North Koreans were forced to live within a fixed frame. And so, centered on the frame, they have to think about their life, view the world, and tailor and build. So, they are simple and closed. So, making an interpersonal relationship with them is difficult. For instance, South Koreans accept and get along with others smoothly, trying to avoid a conflict, even though they don’t agree. On the contrary, North Korean defectors say: “that is not it” and tear it apart. “Go away!” Or, they immediately become enemies. Such a difference is huge, an attitude toward life.
Tim then described how such an attitude in him has changed as his perspective has become more inclusive and tolerant through theological education at his school.
When I started seminary education as a first year student, I had a strong righteous indignation and I was full of a sense of justice. So if I perceived that anything was wrong, I pointed the finger and condemned. For instance, as to pastors’ sexual immorality, I said, “How could a pastor do that? We should beat him to death.” If those pastors came to me, they were all sentenced to death. But now, I no longer do so. It is not that I believe it is permissible for them to do so. But, since ethics is not a realm of absolutes … now I take more an attitude of embracement and acceptance.
Several other consultants shared that their perspectives have become broadened or their attitudes have changed to become more understanding, tolerant, and humble rather than judgmental and proud (Esther, Phoebe, Andrew, Philip, Jeremy, Daniel, Priscilla, Mary,
Hannah, Paul).
Change in Communication and Leadership Style
Paul’s story illustrated how a black-and-white way of thinking and attitude
embodied in different aspects of his life, particularly in communication and leadership styles, were challenged and examined.
For instance, when I was educated in North Korea, the leadership style that was inculcated and internalized in me was vertical leadership, submission and absolute submission. If a leader with higher authority says this, I must completely submit to it. So, I was accustomed to the system. … If I give a couple of examples, even when I talk with friends, while having a conversation, if I have my own philosophy or argument, I don’t yield easily. I am too strong. At least, I should listen to the words of others and try to find a point of compromise or negotiation. However, in North Korea I had to persuade others as much as I could, and indoctrinate my thought to them so that they might yield and follow me. So, as I talked with South Korean friends at first, I was indoctrinating my thoughts and persuading in order to make them follow me. Without my awareness, such an attitude had been embedded in me. So, as they heard me speaking like that, they realized that I was inculcating and indoctrinating my argument to them. So, the conversation could not go further. This may work in an academic debate, but it doesn’t work in an interpersonal relationship. So, friends struggled.
His attitude changed, Paul explained, as he became more conscious about the attitude he had unconsciously assimilated in North Korea and as he continued to interact with South Korean friends who gave honest but caring advice. In terms of the nature of the change, Paul described that his leadership had changed toward egalitarian and servant leadership from a vertical leadership style characterized by command and persuasion and absolute submission. His communication style also changed, so that if he encountered disagreement, instead of only trying to win others by means of arguments, he restrained himself, continuing to make his argument but also listening and searching for common or middle ground to agree on so that the conversation could continue.
It seems that the critical awareness Paul came across was an important
moment for his perspective transformation as he realized the existence of problematic meaning schemes unconsciously assimilated from North Korea. At the same time, his relationship with a small group of close South Korean friends who offered their support, advice, and patience was an indispensable factor for perspective transformation.
Change in Character
With and without attributing the change to a multiplistic way of thinking and
living in South Korea, consultants frequently shared about their character transformation. Several consultants described having previous personalities that were quite similar: quicktempered and uncompromising (Esther, Phoebe, Priscilla, Peter, Paul, Tim, Hannah). Their change resulted in development of a more inclusive and tolerant character. As an example, Peter said that his personality was very fussy.
If I eat this and it does not suit my taste, I throw it all and I will never come to this place. This same attitude goes with my relationship with friends. While hanging out with several friends, if a friend irritates and upsets my temper, then I will say, “What are you saying? That’s wrong. Cut an acquaintance with this folk!” And I will never see him again.
Peter acknowledged that God had changed him to be generous and forgiving toward those who did harm to him and to care for those around him. Quick and straightforward expressions of likes and dislikes in relationships have been changed.
Change to Recognize Strengths of Others’ Faith
Similar to Tim, Esther stated that she had a judgmental attitude toward others’
faith, partly due to a black-and-white way of thinking. She described her faith, shaped in the trial in China, as an “if I die, I will die” kind of faith. She said that for her, that was the only right kind of faith. However, Esther said that this strong conviction had changed since she began going to theological school and serving in a South Korean church. She came to realize that no matter how much the faith of South Korean Christians looks lukewarm and less serious in her eyes, it is as real as her faith. She found that their faith has something that hers does not have—a caring and patient heart for others—and she then found that she could accept different people whose expressions of faith were different from hers.
When it comes to a factor that facilitated her transformation, Esther
emphasized that she would not have changed if she had just remained in a North Korean defector church. Doing ministry in a South Korean church put her in a position where she was confronted by South Koreans and mingled with them closely. While struggling, fighting, and praying together, she learned deeply about South Koreans by experience and grew in understanding about their circumstances and in sympathy with them. As a result, she stated that she had changed to be more compassionate toward her South Korean teachers and colleagues and to have more tolerance and respect for others’ faith and devotion, and had learned to look after others in general as South Korean Christians do.
Experience of Christianity in China and in South Korea
The findings showed that the consultants’ unique experiences functioned as
fresh and distinctive lenses through which they viewed South Korean churches and theological schools. Their perspectives were fresh in the sense that they had little familiarity with institutional churches and theological schools, and distinctive in the sense that the context where they came to faith and understood their calling and mission was quite different from the context in which South Korean Christians live out their faith.
Consultants had two types of experiences after leaving North Korea that were
distinguished from their experiences in North Korea and relevant to their learning experience of theological education in South Korea: (1) a taste of nonformal biblical and theological training in China and an encounter with God and calling; and (2) getting to know South Korean churches. These experiences formed a backdrop against which consultants engaged in critical reflection on theological education in South Korea and envisioned alternative models of theological education.
Demographic Information
Sixteen out of the eighteen consultants heard the Christian gospel in China. Fifteen out of these sixteen stated that they became Christians while living in China as unprotected defectors in a constant state of peril of arrest and deportation to North Korea, where torture, imprisonment, or/and execution awaited them. One consultant stated that her conversion took place after she came to South Korea, although she heard the gospel in China.
Two other consultants told the researcher that they believed in God from the time they were in North Korea.
Furthermore, twelve out of the eighteen consultants had a strong sense of
calling to ministry prior to entering a theological school in South Korea. Eleven out of these twelve stated that they received their call to ministry from God when they were in China. Among these eleven, nine consultants shared their experience of some kind of biblical and theological training in unique settings in China apart from churches (Joseph,
John, Esther, Peter, Andrew, Tim, Mary, Paul, Phoebe).
Mission Home
Seven out of the nine consultants who had experienced nonformal training
stated that they had stayed in a similar kind of “mission home” in China for varied years. The mission home was a place rented by South Korean missionaries to provide a safe shelter for a small group of North Korean defectors in order to teach them about Christianity and develop them as evangelists to North Koreans, while allowing them to stay and eat for free (Choi 2008).
In the beginning, the consultants saw the mission home as a “weird” place. Andrew described his feeling of absurdity when he first joined the mission home without knowing what kind of place it was. He agreed to study Scripture because he had wondered what Christianity was about and why the North Korean regime had criticized and prevented it. However, studying Scripture did not take place in a school but it was rather held in a house secretly, which was different from what he imagined. “It was so weird,” Andrew said. “They gathered and put North Korean defectors together secretly in a place.” Esther recalled, “Most of my Christian life had been in China. I did nothing but reading the Scripture, praying, and fasting. Then I felt I was going crazy. I wanted to escape.” She stayed there for seven years.
Scripture Reading and Learning Theology
Mission homes’ daily schedules were similar. A large portion of time was
devoted to reading the Scriptures. Typically, a Scripture recorded tape was turned on and the defectors read the Scriptures with their eyes, following along with the voice on the tape. Peter described the experience: “Scripture reading? I don’t know if it wants us to die or live, it [the speed of the tape-recorded reading] was so fast that we could neither understand nor follow with our eyes, it just passed so quickly.” Listening and reading Scripture did not make sense to the defectors because it was so fast and they had no previous knowledge of the Bible.
Several consultants stated that the rules and training in the mission home were
very strict (Joseph, Tim, John, Paul, Andrew). For instance, Tim described the training as follows:
The missionary was extremely demanding. We read the whole New Testament every day, prayed for two hours in the morning. We memorized more than ten Bible verses every day. If you have this kind of life more than one year, you become crazy. It takes ten days to read the New Testament ten times and the Old Testament one time. In one year, you read the whole Scriptures over a hundred times. You have become a doctor of the Scriptures which you don’t even believe. You remember dal dal dal which verse is where. I lived that kind of life for two years.
John described the training as “Spartan.”
While I was receiving theological education in China, it was from seven in the morning to ten at night. We were sitting on the floor except for the lunch break. We took exams three times per day. They [the missionaries in the mission homes] told us to leave if we didn’t want to do so. […] We memorized dal dal dal systematic theology from the beginning to the end. So, most of the content of systematic theology was in my memory. It was a Spartan education.
The mission home training included learning about systematic theology, catechism, Calvin’s Institutes and, for some, even church history. Consultants realized that their learning had proved beneficial since they started theological school in South Korea. They demonstrated confidence in terms of Bible knowledge and, in some cases, systematic theology. The consultants reported that this content was all organized and stored in their memory (Peter, Joseph, John, Andrew, Paul, Tim). For instance, Tim asserted, “Besides the fact that we didn’t earn credits by taking the courses there, we learned all the content of the courses offered in theological schools. It is not wrong to say that we are graduates from [name of theological university], except not having a diploma.” Paul also stated, “When I entered a theological school in South Korea, my systematic theology had already been completely established” because of the theological training received in China.
Difference Between Mission Home Training and South Korean Theological Education
In spite of the weird beginning with meaningless reading and listening to Scripture under the strict rule of the mission home, consultants said that as time went on, the meaning of Scripture was “drawing close to” them and was “embraced” by them; and the words were “gradually inscribed” in their hearts (Andrew, John). John shared that he experienced conversion while reading Scripture in the mission home. Andrew said that he started reading Scripture by himself, carefully and meditatively, even during every break, and loved it.
Consultants who experienced theological training in the mission home
signified that their experience of theological education in China was different from that in South Korea. One of the differences was that their learning theology in China made them love God more. By comparing his experience in China and in South Korea, John shared,
Theology was not an academic discipline for the discipline’s sake, but it was a discipline for us to become more like the Lord. It was really not a course that is taught to be used in pastoral ministry, but for me it was really getting to know the Lord deeply. So, then [when he was in the mission home], I fell in love with the Lord so very much through theology by finding depths of knowledge of God through the works of theologians based on the Scriptures, not the God we know abstractly. So, while learning Christology and soteriology, I used to cry often. Yet, honestly speaking, I was very disappointed, having come here.
Tim made a similar comment.: “Is Theology fun? It is rather dry, isn’t it? People said, ‘Calvin’s Institutes are difficult and dry.’ But when I was learning them in China, I was so blessed that I was crying while learning.”
Moreover, another consultant compared the spiritual training in the mission
home with the spiritual formation implemented in his theological school in South Korea. In contrast to his experience in the mission home, where studying, worshiping, and praying were done rigorously and vitally and where students were intimately close to God in the midst of suffering, John described his seminary experience in South Korea as follows:
I came here, and things are chilly, cold, and ritualistic. You know, even chapel attendance is checked. We have to check in with a card. And I don’t go upstairs in the chapel. It’s because if you do, you see Jundosanisms [unordained pastor-students] reading comic books, watching movies on laptop ….
In fact, several other consultants, including those who had not had a mission home experience, critiqued the ritualistic formality they saw in the attitudes of theological students attending chapel in their school (Paul, Priscilla, Tim, Thomas, Andrew, Jeremy). They wondered if the way their schools tried to facilitate spiritual formation among theological students was indeed effective. Consultants were regretful to see how students, prospective pastors and leaders, could behave the way they behaved in the chapel.
Living Theological Education in the Way Jesus Trained Disciples
The findings indicated that the mission home training was not intended to
develop nominal Christians. Even the plight and predicament of the external circumstances in which consultants were in China could not allow nominalism. The goal of mission home training was to develop true disciples and leaders. Several consultants shared their ministry experiences of leading one of the branches of the mission home, and Andrew and Tim reported that they were arrested and deported to North Korea while doing ministry. Paul described his ministry as follows:
After I was trained, missionaries entrusted to me some North Korean defectors to train. Those North Korean defectors were the people who would go back to North Korea, one hundred percent for sure. I led them to pray to receive Christ and did one-on-one disciple training. Then after one or two, or at most four to five months of training, I sent them back. I trained only those who would go back to North Korea and sent them when they had an adequate amount of training to the extent that they were capable to teach and share the gospel. I shared the gospel and explained to them why North Korea was wrong and why Juche ideology was false.
The way that consultants were trained and did ministry in China embodied the principle in 2 Timothy 2:2: “And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others.” Trained North Korean defectors were sent to find others and make them disciples, so that they in turn could go out to form and teach another group of North Korean defectors.
John described the training that he received through the mission home as
“living” theological education, just like what Jesus did to make disciples.
Like Jesus’ disciples, we went out together and evangelized and expelled spirits together. We did like that in China. … Since we read the Scriptures more than sixty times, the Word of God had become norms for all of our thoughts and judgments. For that reason, we could make few mistakes and we were able to risk our lives for ministry, not like ministers who follow money. We formed teams of seven and went to different places, expelled an evil spirit together …, spoke in tongues together, and sought spiritual gifts together. It was a living theological education. We learned theological disciplines, too. “If you don’t want to learn, leave,” the missionary used to say. We did it in a confined setting. In the midst of that, truly devoted disciples were produced. Out of them quite a number of people went back to North Korea at the risk of their lives.
By “a living theological education,” John was referring to a kind of theological education which facilitates understanding of theological disciplines, “onsite” practice, and “understanding of the people in their life contexts.” The field training was done with mentor and colleagues together.
In addition, Peter highlighted a community aspect of the training in the
mission home. Peter became a leader in charge of a group of North Korean defectors in one mission home, where he had to lead service and preach while living together with this group twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week. Beside worshiping and studying Scripture, living together involved all sorts of other activities such as cooking, cleaning, getting to know one another, and building relationships. Peter said that when he first became a leader he asked God how to lead these people, the younger and the older, together—for instance, whether he should initiate by doing things such as cleaning and cooking himself first, or order them to do each chore. Peter shared stories of how he decided to demonstrate and set an example and how people gradually changed and cooperated as he did so. He stated that by leading that group, he learned to lead by encouraging and acknowledging each person’s strengths and concerns. Retrospectively, Peter pronounced, “It was a great time.” He in fact attempted to reconstruct such a community within his theological school when he came to South Korea. Peter said, “After I came to South Korea, I wanted to replicate it. Yet, it didn’t go well.”
Nostalgia
Peter and a few other consultants experienced nostalgia or longing for the time
when they were trained in the mission home in China. While he appreciated what his theological school in South Korea had equipped him to be and do, Andrew said, “Yet, I have a desire to return to how I was back then. I have nostalgia for the time when I was getting to know God for the first time, and rejoicing without fear even in the middle of anxiousness, being chased by security officials in China.” For some North Korean defector theological students, the mission home was the place where they enjoyed their first, loving, and intimate relationship with Christ while learning Scripture and theology in the midst of perilous situations. It was their first theological education and ministry experience.
Furthermore, for John and Andrew, the mission home experience in China had
set a prototype of what theological education should look like. They found their experience of mission home training in China overlapped with models of theological education in Scripture, such as Jesus’ training of the disciples and the prophet Elisha’s training of students in the wilderness.
Christianity in South Korea: A Different Extent of Gratitude and Seriousness
Findings indicated that most of the consultants had significant experiences
such as dramatic deliverance as an answer to prayer, conversion, an intimate relationship with God, and a call to ministry while in China or North Korea. Then, after much trouble, they arrived in South Korea. Phoebe shared her first feeling about South Korean churches. When she looked out through the window in her first apartment, she looked down and saw many crosses in the dark sky at night. She said she was moved as her mind reached to the thought that South Korea was blessed because of the people who prayed every morning under those crosses. Naomi shared how she was looking forward to meeting fellow Christians as she arrived in South Korea. She longed to share the God whom she experienced and wanted to be mutually supported, because in China she was a Christian all by herself.
However, many consultants expressed concerns about Christianity and
churches in South Korea. Comparing South Korean Christians with themselves, Jeremy spoke with disappointment: “I think the soil of faith seems different. We believe the same God and Jesus, but we feel different levels of overwhelming gratitude and … maybe because we have lived in different circumstances.” Looking at the lukewarm responses of South Korean Christians to the overwhelming grace of God, Daniel wondered and lamented.
They should be grateful to God and so they should be striving to draw near to God, but why can’t they be thankful about this? Why? So, I wish I can turn South Korean churches upside down. My heart is aching to death.
Daniel asserted that this problem must be solved by theological schools and through Christian education. Consultants observed a different degree of gratitude for salvation and seriousness about the call to ministry between South Korean Christians and theological students and themselves, perhaps because their life experiences and life contexts were different.
Little Sense of Calling and Commitment Among Students in Theological Schools
In the interview conversations, twelve out of eighteen consultants shared that
they had experienced a strong sense of calling from God prior to coming to theological school (Phoebe, Priscilla, Esther, Paul, John, Joseph, Andrew, Peter, Daniel, Naomi, Jeremy, Tim). Two among the other six consultants began their theological education in order to know God better—the God who listened to their prayers and delivered them from their troubles when they were in China or a third country. Two other consultants started their education because they had gotten to know God and loved him. One said that she thought that if she believed and loved God, she had to go to theological school. The remaining two consultants did not mention how God called them to study and do ministry, but they were in ministry and their expressed life goals and plans demonstrated that they intended to remain in ministry.
Among those who had a strong sense of calling, Phoebe recalled the time
when she received her calling. She went to a retreat with Sunday school teachers from her Chinese-Korean church in China, and as she was listening to a sermon she saw a vision that a big sword penetrated her heart and heard a clear message that she was called to be an evangelist. Phoebe explained her immediate emotional response: “At that time I was in a situation where I didn’t know when I would be arrested. So I said, ‘No.’ I was extremely shocked. ‘No, no, you [God] are saying nonsense, how can you call me to ‘one who is called’?’ I was trembling.” Phoebe reported that for hours she wrestled with God like Jacob, complaining and talking to God about her circumstances and fears. Then, when she finally became calm, she sensed God saying, “Yes, I know you don’t have a house, money, or anything, but if you are caught, you can have me as your bed. Think of my sky as your blanket. And even if you die because you proclaim the gospel, you will have heaven, better than here. Why are you so complaining?” This was Phoebe’s story of how she accepted her calling.
Another consultant, Tim, shared that he made a vow to God when he was
arrested while doing ministry in the mission home and deported to North Korea, praying that if God delivered him, he would become a servant of God. He said that God rescued him more than three times from extremely life-threatening situations. Since he came to South Korea, he refused to keep the vow, but overwhelming grace was poured out upon him and he could not resist, but decided to follow the call. Many other consultants also shared lively stories.
Because they had been through such experiences, it was a sharp contrast and
surprise for consultants to see many South Korean students who entered theological schools without a sense of calling or who had not thought about the seriousness of the call. Esther shared her first impression:
When I came to South Korea, I thought that the faith that I had, “if I die, I will die,” was the only right kind of faith, because I had spent seven years in China where my life was always in danger. That was it. What else shall there be beside the kind of faith that I had when it comes to believing in God in such a context? Then, once I came to theological school in South Korea, in my eyes these South Korean theological students were not theological students! They were as though they came for a picnic or fun. I entered here, having risked my life so fiercely and intensely, but they appeared to me as though they came out to have a good time.
In the beginning, Esther found herself in a remarkably different state of spirituality, intense and rigorous, from the South Korean theological students who looked so relaxed. That was an unexpected, disorienting experience for her. It was because she entered theological school having come out of a fierce furnace.
The following story, from Paul, indicates that some from Korean churches and
theological schools are also aware of the problem that the consultants perceived.
When I just started attending the seminary, Professor [name] offered a first lecture on introduction to New Testament. I will keep in mind what he spoke in the first class of my first year at seminary for the rest of my life. He said, “If today were in the period of Emperor Nero and in the period when Paul died a martyr, would people come to seminary by taking entrance exams for two years or three years in order to be a pastor? If this is a period when we can be beheaded because of Jesus and be mocked because of the Lord, will they come despite the tough competition? We have so many professional people who are doing ministry as a job. We have so many pastors who work for wages.”
Paul said that after hearing the professor, he went up to a prayer hill on campus and prayed to God to reassure him about his calling. He desired to be confirmed that even if he were called to ministry in such a period of time like Nero, he would still seek to be a pastor at the risk of martyrdom and be raised up to be a person who would confidently and boldly proclaim the gospel. Likewise, John described another incident that happened in a class.
Last time, I took a course from Professor [name]. He asked students to raise a hand if anyone has come to seminary without calling, and some students did. One of the Jundosanims was asked to stand and answer why he came to seminary. He told that he came just because he didn’t have any particular school to go and just wanted to study theology. Then the professor asked how he could be admitted. The student answered that the professor who interviewed him told that if he just tried it out, then, while studying, a calling might come. So we all laughed. This is the reality that we cannot change.
For many consultants, theological school was for those who were called to ministry but, more than that, for some of the consultants it was for those who were called even to death. For the same reason, Tim was critical of students who came to seminary on the basis not of their own conviction and calling, but that of someone else. According to Tim, “Once you go to a seminary, you find students saying, ‘I came because my mother was blessed’ or ‘I came because my grandmother made a vow.’ Why do you come to seminary if it was your grandmother who was blessed?”
Secularization of Pastoral Vocation: Occupation with a License
Consultants identified that behind the phenomenon in which students without
a sense of calling come to theological school was a turnaround idea, which was affected by and propelled the secularization of pastoral ministry. Tim used the term, “reversal,” explaining,
I think that the essence in the Korean church has turned upside down. It lost its essence. What do you think? Do you think if you study theology and get ordination, then you become a pastor? No, it is because you were called to be a pastor that you, therefore, study theology in order to learn how to carry out responsibilities of a pastor. Anybody can come and study theology and he then becomes a pastor? I think the essential order has been reversed.
From Tim’s perspective, calling from God comes first and theological education comes next—it is not the other way around, as though theological education itself can license a person to be a pastor. For the consultant who argued against the reversed order taking place in theological education in South Korean churches, the concern seemed to be a lack of sincerity or seriousness of call to ministry and the secularization of pastoral vocation in the minds of theological students. Again, Tim described a common discourse among theological students.
They are so secularized and they do nothing but calculating. Jesus is just a steppingstone for success. As though they earn an estate agent license, it is even easier. They earn a license by studying with money supported by church. In fact, in seminary they bluntly speak, “whether one is hired in a large company [a megachurch]” or “came here to get a pastor license.” How can it be expected from there that leaders who restore lives will be produced? … It used to be our common prayer that “wherever you call us, we will go,” even though our lives may not measure up to our confession.
If pastoral vocation turns into a job for earning money or a profession that possibly leads to success, then the theological school becomes a place where people come to earn a license that certifies them as pastors.
Likewise, after describing his conversation with a theological student who
envied a particular pastor in one of the mega-size churches, Daniel pointed out the importance of theological education to shape the minds of students. He did so by sharing his educational experience in the school that trained officers in North Korea.
I heard that if a pastor is assigned as a new senior pastor in a Korean church, it’s common for him to ask the church to buy him the best sedan. Can we go to North Korea with this [attitude]? This problem has to be resolved in the theological school. In a theological school, it has to be learned that this is not a job for a living, but this is ministry for God. And so students should be equipped as servants of God in terms of faith, beliefs, character, and disposition, but when I entered my theological school, there is a saying “by the time you graduate, you become a layperson”? It is not the case in North Korea. … As for the [name] school that produces the Party leaders in North Korea, the education is powerful. If you study in that school, it is scary. You have to risk your life.
Daniel stressed that by the time students graduated from North Korean officer schools, they were equipped with an intense spirit of readiness to risk their lives in carrying out their mission. He lamented that theological education in South Korea was inadequate to shape ministers of God—or, in Joseph’s words, officers of God—with conviction, character, norms, and identities. Priscilla, likewise, believed that
pastors have to be the ones who will die for the Lord and can lay down even the greatest joy that they have. We really have to select this kind of people and raise them up. However, South Korean churches become like a business company. And pastors are like CEOs without character.
In her perception, one of the factors that contributed to the process of turning churches into business-likeness was pastors who considered their ministry as a job for earning money.
South Korean Churches are Reproached by Outsiders
Due to Materialism and Failure of Leaders
During their interviews, the consultants’ perceptions of South Korean
churches, the churches’ ways of doing mission for North Korean defectors, and the social perception of Christianity in South Korean society were frequently addressed. Many consultants noticed that South Korean churches were belittled and reproached by outsiders, unbelievers in society. They were sympathetic with the criticisms against churches, but at the same time they were lamenting the current state of Korean churches.
Hannah viewed a lack of self-denying, sacrificial love among Christians and
pastors in South Korea as one of the critical reasons why Christianity is shamed and criticized. Her experience of South Korean pastors was quite different from her experience of Chinese-Korean pastors.
The pastors in China don’t have a paycheck, no honorarium. But they still risk their lives in doing ministry. Sometimes even in the risky situation that they might be imprisoned, they tried to keep faith. Pastors here [in South Korea] are not like that. Once they became a pastor, they wear a tie, ride on a black car, their neck is lifted up and stiffened as if it is in a plaster cast, and their voice changed, saying, “Halleluiah, Amen!” It really affronts the eyes.
Hannah added, “They [saints in the church] embrace, hug, and act as if they will give everything, but once they leave church, in the world, those attitudes disappear completely. Their self-interest-seeking attitude and selfishness are inexpressible.” Philip was also aware of the current image of Christianity in South Korea: “The image of Christianity has been completely lost, utterly tarnished.” Several consultants mentioned that pastors should have social consciousness and a sense of responsibility before God and society, and that this had to be fostered in theological education (Philip, Priscilla, John, Andrew).
Priscilla had served previously in three different South Korean churches and
in doing so had observed pastors’ sexual immorality, obsession with fame, and greed. She had seen how churches suffered as a result. With tears, she said, “Did I come here to see this? … My heart was so aching, ‘ah, truly one pastor can kill the church or make it alive.’” Priscilla said that by observing these things, she gradually laid down her craving for money and fame, having learned “how pastors’ actions are hurting the heart of the Lord, how they trouble Korean churches, and how much they are hindering the spread of the gospel.”
Priscilla also mentioned that North Koreans are suffering deeply because of the leaders Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il, while Korean churches are suffering because of pastors whose words and deeds do not agree. The significance of leaders and of theological education for developing leaders seemed to have been inscribed in the hearts of these consultants by their experience of conditions caused by erroneous guidance and failure of leaders in the country of North Korea and the churches of South Korea.
Consultants’ experience of South Korean churches formed an important part
of their learning experience. Several consultants mentioned there must have been a reason for God leading them to experience South Korean churches rather than opening North Korea right away. They construed this circumstance as meaning that they were to learn lessons from the weaknesses and strengths of Korean churches (Priscilla, John, Naomi, Philip, Jeremy). Consultants often stated that they did not want to be like South Korean pastors; nor did they want North Korean churches in the future to be like South Korean churches. The path that some of the South Korean churches were taking was perceived as tainted with materialism and prosperity gospel, a lack of sacrificial love and integrity in the lives of Christians, a secularization of pastoral vocation, greed for numerical growth in ministry, and immorality and greed for power, wealth, and fame among pastors and theological students.
To summarize, it is likely that South Korean churches, pastors, and
theological schools were object lessons for the consultants. They constantly engaged, wrestled with, and pondered what they had learned through them in various contexts of theological education. What they have observed, heard, or experienced through peripheral participation—and sometimes deep involvement—within a community of colleagues in the theological school, within a community of pastors, and within the congregation of the church where they served were critical learning experiences. Even social discourses about churches and Christianity which circulated in society were sources of learning. Such learning experiences led the consultants to think about what kind of pastors they should be, what kind of churches should be established in North Korea, and what kind of theological education would make that possible in North Korea. Therefore, as situated learning suggests, the findings indicate that consultants’ learning is not restricted to their progress through the teaching curriculum of the theological school; rather, they also learn implicitly and explicitly through learning curricula not necessarily organized by themselves. Moreover, their learning experience of theological education was not confined to classroom experiences within theological schools, nor did it take place only in their minds.
CHAPTER 5
THE PRESENT: POSITIONING, NEGOTIATION AND
CONSTRUCTION OF IDENTITIES (RQ2)
The findings of this chapter describe how consultants’ learning experience
involved social positioning and negotiation and construction of identities in a web of theological education contexts—including theological schools, churches, and society—and how this influenced their identity formation of becoming pastors or Christian leaders. Being in a society and engaging in social interaction, in a discursive context or in general, entails one’s place (Berger 1963) and therefore involves one’s positioning in social webs and structures. One’s social location, generally reflected by his or her race, class, or gender, is one of these factors. It affects one’s positionality. Then, one’s position defines rights, duties, and things that one can and cannot do and can and cannot speak (Harré and
Langenhove 1999).
One is not, however, positioned only by others, for individuals can engage in
deliberate self-positioning by resisting positions or identities imposed by others and by reconstructing and enacting alternative identities. Various factors set boundaries on the range of positions available to a person and affect a person’s ability to do positioning or identity reconstruction. Doing identity work usually entails forms of capital; however, people with or without such resources also engage in identity construction by telling stories, contesting or adopting certain subject positions that are available from an institutional or
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sociocultural reservoir of discourses, and reconstructing alternative stories that in turn become their new identities.
Social Location and Learning
The following presentation of findings will recount stories in which
consultants described their place within the theological school and within the South Korean church. These stories reflected, to some degree, social perceptions that the larger society had about them (Maher and Tetreault 2001, 202). Stereotypes and prejudice affected the ways in which society perceived and positioned consultants. In turn, the ways in which consultants managed or overcame those stereotypes formed part of their learning experience in theological education contexts.
Social Location at School
Consultants encountered some stereotypes and preconceived images about
them as they interacted with South Korean students and professors in their theological schools. Through the discourses and experiences of stereotypes and prejudices, they were made aware of their place or location within institutions, social structures, and relationships. Yet, the findings indicated that consultants felt less affected by prejudice in the academic setting than they did in the church or in society.
Stereotypes of Academic Performance
Several consultants perceived certain disadvantages and prejudices against
North Korean defectors in academic settings. Tim shared that he tried to hide that he was from North Korea while attending a secular university because he expected disadvantages to follow if he revealed it.
In a university, if you say you are a North Korean defector, there are many disadvantages. So, I intentionally concealed it. That’s why I changed my accent and intonation quickly. I guess it was quite successful. They did not recognize [the fact that I was North Korean].
However, Tim thought that theological schools would be different from secular universities. He said that because he assumed his theological school would be more inclusive and accepting, and because his school was too small to hide who he was, “I intentionally revealed it [where he came from] in the seminary.”
In contrast to Tim’s expectation for his theological school, Elisha shared a
couple of long illustrations of how he suffered from stereotypes about the academic performance of North Korean defector students in his theological school. In one example, a professor in one of his classes told South Korean students in his group that they should help him well since he came from North Korea. Elisha said that when the students in his group made a presentation before the class, they excluded all the work that he had prepared and reported only what they had found from research. Elisha argued that his work was not fairly evaluated:
It should have been deleted if my work was done inadequately. But when the professor evaluated presentations, he commented on most of the things that I had written. It was not wrong at all. But it was omitted from the presentation.
From Elisha’s perspective, his work was depreciated by South Korean students in his group due to their predetermined idea about the academic competence of North Korean defector students.
In addition, John explained that certain common discourses exist concerning
stereotypes about North Korean defector students’ academic competence.
Most professors seem to have three kinds of preconceptions about North Korean students. First, they are not academically competent. Second, it is a bit hard to communicate with them. Third, it is difficult to have a deep or professional conversation about academic subjects with them.
However, apart from how they were perceived in the image that stereotypes
depicted them, findings from the consultants’ self-reports indicate that the majority of the consultants were academically competent or at least confident about their academic interest and improvement, although consultants had undergone difficult times in adapting to the
South Korean educational context (Andrew, John, Esther, Priscilla, Hannah, Naomi, Paul, Tim, Elisha, Philip, Sharon, Peter, Philip). Moreover, some consultants mentioned that they were currently involved in research and teaching in other colleges or academic programs (Esther, Andrew, Elisha, Paul).
Representing and Reconstructing a Desirable Image
Several consultants’ remarks indicated that they were conscious of
representation and social construction of the collective identity of North Korean defectors. A couple of consultants mentioned that, in fact, North Korean defector students had to some degree contributed to the construction of the current undesirable stereotype concerning their academic competence (Andrew and John). They stated that some North Korean defector students visit professors’ offices to ask professors to give them a special favor as they grade their papers or exams. These consultants were uncomfortable with some defector students’ asking for special favors from professors because, John said, “we are making an image for the North Korean defector students who will be coming after us in the minds of professors.”
While describing how he construed and responded to the event in which he
felt that his academic work was unfairly evaluated by professors and students because of their biases against North Korean defectors’ academic ability, Elisha made a similar remark.
For me, I don’t place a cause of the problem outside, but inside. I try to solve a problem by examining if even the way of thinking—taking it as prejudice— is my problem. Also, suppose there is indeed a biased preconception. Then, I can change it. If I sink in it and do not move forward and rather withdraw myself, then many [North Korean defector] students who will come after me will …
In his process of thinking, Elisha tried not to take a victimized position about the preconceived image of North Korean defector students held by professors or students. Instead, he took a proactive position to solve the problem by working hard, believing that he could change the image. As indicated in the earlier quote, he was conscious of his role in creating a constructive image of North Korean defector students who will come after him.
I did not come here to represent North Korea. However, when Jundosanim [referring to the researcher] sees me, you understand the country, North Korea and North Korean students through me. Then, what? I have such an important mission assigned to me without knowing it. Therefore, if I flop down, it means that I am giving up that mission. Suppose, today I finish this interview well, then the perception about North Korean defectors may change a certain degree. … Then, I’m achieving my goal. It was not that I have changed an individual image of myself, but that I have changed something about the image of North Korean defectors. Therefore, certainly, it [prejudice] makes me feel bad, but it can be a motivation for me to do better and it can also be a power or a driving force.
Elisha recognized that whether he was conscious of it or not, he had been a person who represents North Korea and North Korean defectors to others from the moment he entered South Korea. He wanted to act responsibly in order to change existing stereotypes and construct a positive image for future North Korean defectors.
Preconceived Notions Related to Socioeconomic Status
Another kind of stereotype about North Korean defectors concerned their
socioeconomic status in general in the Korean society. Philip threw these words in the air: “South Korean students do not understand our words.” Hearing him speak further, the researcher determined that this was a reference to North Korean defectors’ circumstances, of which South Korean students were not well aware. Philip elaborated,
A so-called theological student … was speaking about North Koreans…. You know, North Koreans come here and live in a rental apartment built for the low-income people by the government. Concerning the fact that they live in those apartments, I don’t know whether it was because his household was poor and he was in need and that was why he spoke like that or not. But, as I heard him speaking with a grumbling voice about it and so painfully pointing out the fact that North Koreans live in the apartments that are built for lowincome families … I thought, “What is this so-called theological student going to do with that mindset?”
Although the motive was unknown, the words of the South Korean student were despising North Korean defectors’ socioeconomic status in South Korea in front of the consultant, and it made the consultant uncomfortable. Thomas mentioned that, during his years of theological education, he was not only concerned about possible prejudice by others, but also ashamed to reveal that he was a North Korean defector, and so he “acted just like a South Korean student.” Thomas explained why he was ashamed as follows:
If I observe South Koreans’ habit, of course, not all of them but most people are favorable toward those who come from Europe, United States, or developed countries, but they treat without respect those who come from East Asia or developing countries and look at them with prejudiced eyes.
From his perspective, South Koreans were particularly prejudiced toward groups who had migrated from poor countries, including North Korea.
A Historical, Ideological, or Political Root of Prejudice
Findings indicated that another source of undesirable social perceptions had to
do with South Koreans’ suspicions about North Korean defectors’ being communists or political spies (Sharon, Andrew, Naomi, Esther, Paul, Tim). Consultants indicated that they usually received dichotomous responses when they made it known in public that they came from North Korea. For instance, John stated,
There is one incident that happened when I went to MT, which I could not erase from my memory. It might be my subjective feeling. It was a time during the MT when each one introduced oneself. Most students from North Korea did not introduce themselves that they came from North Korea. It might be a matter of self-esteem or their concern in that they were afraid if that might cause social reverberations. So, they didn’t reveal it. However, I introduced myself by telling them openly about my hometown, marriage status, and age, including my specific address in North Korea. Their responses were exactly dichotomized. Those who were a bit older and had a firm position against North Korea appeared to be watchful. That was just my feeling. However, it seems that such an attitude has continued in classes. I tried to get close to them but they seldom respond to me but they greet with a mere pretense and try to draw a boundary.
Except for those who are currently in their twenties or younger, it can be said that the rest of the Korean population, the older generations, experienced the Korean War and the Cold War directly or indirectly through their parents’ stories, media representations, and ideological education at school. The prejudiced or watchful attitude that John perceived from some South Korean students has a historical, ideological, or political root, because both North Korea and South Korea had implemented ideological education. For South Koreans, this anti-communist education continued until the 1980s.
Like John, Philip sensed that some South Korean students distanced
themselves from him because he was a North Korean.
Hardship in building a relationship? Well, it is prejudice. I think prejudice is critical. Feelings of human beings, if feelings are well communicated, there will be no issue of bitterness. These folks, when I feel that they treat other South Korean students with friendliness but they distance themselves from me, this North Korean Hyeongnim [older brother] because I came from North Korea […] You know, there are all sorts of people. Some lift up their heads and pass by me if I say I came from North Korea. They don’t greet, pretending not to see me. On school campus, the greeting is important. If folk who usually greets others well does not greet me, then I will think …
It is a noteworthy comment that “feelings of human beings” and “greetings” matter in relationships. In a high-context culture, people read and are sensitive to nonverbal social and cultural cues. Also, different forms of greeting can send various messages, and can evoke a variety of feelings in a receiver ranging from respect, to friendliness, to indifference, to scorn.
Indifference about North Korea and Suffering of the People
Findings highlighted the indifference about the situation of North Korea and
plight of North Koreans that consultants perceived in their theological schools and among South Korean students. It is not likely that this indifference had an impact on the consultants’ academic achievement, but it is certain that it affected consultants’ learning experience as minority students in the theological educational institution. Hannah expressed her disappointment: “You know, we have a North Korean mission meeting. It absolutely hurts to see that they [South Korean students] don’t have any interest in North Korea. Even now, those who come to the mission meeting are only around ten to fifteen or at most twenty out of two thousand theological students.” Why did it matter to Hannah? She shared what hurt her feelings: “They didn’t feel it firsthand and so they are senseless about the situation where North Koreans starved to death. It seems like they thought of it as if flies had died. That is not right.” Joseph had a similar experience.
At my theological school, because I could not hold it, so I asked one of my friends to hold a picket with words written, “Please come here, anybody who would like to pray for North Korea!” and to stand on the podium of the chapel throughout one semester. During the one semester, people did not gather. I was shocked. “God, what is this? Isn’t this a place where generals of heavenly soldiers are educated? God, this is a place where people who will become centurions and chiliarchs are being trained, not just ordinary church members.” But no one came to pray for North Korea.
Some consultants’ disappointment about the lack of passion and concern for North Korea at their theological schools was particularly due to the schools’ claim to roots in Pyongyang Theological Seminary, which was the first Presbyterian theological seminary in Korea, established in 1901 (John, Paul, Tim). One of the consultants said that he once appealed to the school, “No matter how much our school claims that we are successors of Pyongyang
Theological Seminary and it is our prototype, we do not even have an organization for North
Korean mission on campus and few are interested in that, either. So we need to establish it.” Factors that Alleviate Being Marginalized
Findings identified a few factors that helped some consultants to have a
satisfying time without feeling discriminated against or alienated within social or institutional settings. Two factors can be generalized in other contexts, and one pertained particularly to an academic environment.
Language Adaptation and Personality
Both a language aptitude that enabled them to quickly adapt to a South Korean accent and a personality with good relational skills made consultants who had these traits less vulnerable to social prejudice or alienation. For instance, Peter, who was in his mid-30s (whereas South Korean students were around 21 years old) stated that he did not have any problem in getting along with South Korean students and professors, and his being a North Korean defector was not an obstacle to relationships with them. He said, “Not only within a theological school but also in other organizations, I build relationships very well. It is simply that I can communicate well.” In addition, Peter explained that he tried to approach South Korean students, who were usually much younger than him, with friendliness, and present himself as an equal (peer) without making them conscious about his seniority or the age gap. Peter happily recalled that his young classmates called him “Opbba,” which is the term a younger sister uses to address an older brother in Korean. These classmates shared with him all kinds of information needed for the campus life, as well as their “knowhow” for studying. He said, “They even try to tell me information that they don’t have.” Joseph’s case was similar. These consultants’ candid personality traits and
friendly and self-abasing social skills made it easier for them to mingle with South Korean students. In addition, referring to personality, Esther asked a rhetorical question to the researcher: “Do you think I am a kind of person who can be marginalized by others?” While she had seen others suffer, Esther shared that she had never felt excluded or marginalized in a theological school.
Never! As you know, I am not the kind of person who can be marginalized. I think that if a person is marginalized, he or she is marginalized by themselves because of his or her own sense of inferiority.
Esther believed that there might be exclusion or alienation in a real sense, but it was often just their own consciousness of being North Korean defectors that made them feel marginalized. In addition, by illustrating a case of her North Korean defector colleague, Esther affirmed that she would not be silent if such a thing happened to her, but would go talk to the person who did it to her. As Harré and van Langenhove explain, Esther’s capacity to negotiate and take on range of positioning was different from that of her colleague, who had a sleepless night and called her because he felt excluded by South Korean students (1999, 30).
Several consultants mentioned that their successful adaptation to the South
Korean accent gave them an advantage where they could choose to hide or disclose their
North Korean identity (Andrew, Peter, Tim, John, Sharon). Sharon explained,
You know, the accent of Hamkyung province is strong. Yet, once I arrived in
South Korea, while I was talking with an official in the National Intelligence Service, I realized that my tone and his tone were matched exactly. As I heard him speaking in a certain level of tone, I recognized and remembered the tone.
While I was in Hanawon, I lowered my tone just a little bit and used North Korean terminologies. It was because I had to get along with them. However, after I left the place, I lowered the tone to the same level as South Koreans’.
It is often accent that allows people to recognize North Koreans, but for Sharon, unless she revealed it, people could not tell that she was from North Korea. This made it possible for her to decide in each circumstance whether she wanted to disclose it or not.
Additionally but importantly, findings indicated that the issue of stereotype
and prejudice did not distress consultants much at school as compared to other social contexts. This was because consultants could afford to ignore those who distanced themselves and instead hang out with others who considered them as equals. Andrew presumed that there must be some people who viewed him and other North Korean students with a jaundiced eye but said, “We cannot deal with it every time” and “we just hang out with friends whom we know to some degree, whom we can communicate with and whose hearts agree.” Schools were perceived as somewhat impersonal contexts, having a great number of students who do not know one another. At the same time, consultants felt it was sufficient to have a small group of close friends, especially congenial South Korean friends. They were less preoccupied with the words or attitudes of those who presumably had suspicion and did not desire to associate with them.
Academic Competence
In addition to the relatively impersonal atmosphere of the academic setting,
consultants perceived the theological school as an academic context where academic competence matters most and other conditions or attributes of a person matter less. For instance, Naomi stated that at school she did not have the kind of trouble that she experienced in the church.
While attending the theological school, I didn’t feel it because it was about competing with study … and I took an attitude of learning, thinking, “From now on I will start everything from the beginning.” And I had peers [South Korean students] with whom I hung out. Since we met in a setting where we studied theology together, I hardly felt difference between us. I took it for granted that there were things that I did not know. What’s important was that I had confidence. It was because, except in English, I was not academically behind as compared with other students in other courses. Particularly in regards to Hebrew and Greek, I was even better and I rather helped them. So I thought that there was little difference between South Koreans and North Koreans.
Naomi’s statement might sound naïve to others who would disagree that students in the academic institution are evaluated equally according to their academic achievement or competence. For Naomi, however, her positioning as a learner gave her freedom from feeling inferior about things that she did not know, and her academic competence and confidence helped her to see herself as equal and comparable to South Korean students. She had little concern about being discriminated against on the basis of her being a North
Korean defector at school.
Similarly to Naomi, Andrew also believed that the school was a context where
a certain level of equality was guaranteed if a person was competent to work independently and responsibly. He explained,
I study on my own and I don’t lean on others at the school. If I was not capable of performing my role or my part in a group discussion or presentation, it could have burdened other members in my group. However, I did not withdraw myself by giving an excuse that the work was too difficult for me because I came from North Korea. I did not do that. I performed my part in presentations.
It appears positive that consultants were less distressed about stereotypes and
disadvantages of being North Korean defector students at school than in other contexts. However, these findings may also indicate the “impersonality” of the theological education academic environment, in that theological schools do not foster an atmosphere in which students do get to know each other to the extent that they are enriched by diversity—by personal stories, backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives of diverse students, including North Korean defector students (Maher and Tetreault 2001, 203). Furthermore, it may indicate that theological education in South Korea has not taken sufficient consideration of the fact that students are situated knowers and that students’ positionality, their experience and identity affects their epistemology (Takacs 2002).
Social Location at Church
South Korean churches are another main context in which theological
education takes place. Findings indicated that churches are more sensitive social milieus where consultants experienced dynamics of power and positioning to a greater degree than in the academic setting.
Disregard, “You don’t know because you are from North Korea”
A few consultants made a distinction that there is more discrimination in the
church than in the school (Andrew, Naomi, John). In contrast to his experience in theological school, where his academic independence and competence as well as his accent made him little distinguishable from South Korean students, Andrew felt that gaining opportunities and receiving fair appreciation of his capability in ministry were hampered by his designated identity as a North Korean defector. He said,
But in this society and in the church, I think there are so many cases that my status as a North Korean defector affects my plan and ministry. Our society is that immature, and churches, too, do not have much capacity for embracement. … Even though there is little difference between me and South Koreans in terms of abilities or competence, they begin by presupposing, “because you are a North Korean ...” They start with a prejudice, “You will be like this because you are a North Korean defector.”
Andrew expressed that his status or identity as a North Korean defector was a disadvantage in a way. He felt discriminated against. Andrew asserted that that is not his perception alone, but that other North Korean defectors think the same way.
John said that since he came to South Korea he had read more than two
thousand books in various fields, including education, law, administration, theology, and Christianity, in addition to the books that were assigned for classes. He explained what motivated him to do so.
In the beginning, pastoral staffs ignored me a lot. I felt a sense of crisis: “Ah, I must learn if I want to walk shoulder to shoulder and do ministry here.” At the same time I thought, “This is the best opportunity that I have to learn the things that I had not learned in North Korea. And a day will come when I can make a contribution if I learn now as much as I can.”
John’s motivation had something to do with his present positioning, being looked down on by South Korean staff, but he was also thinking about the future. When a time comes when
North Koreans and South Koreans need to cooperate, John aspired to work with South
Koreans as equals. John shared the following incident.
It was during the pastoral staff meeting in which we were discussing about an issue. Only pastors were talking and Jundosanims did not talk. So I shared my opinion. Then one of them said to me, “Jundosanim [referring to the consultant, John] thinks so because you don’t know, having come from North Korea.” On the one hand, I thought, “Ah. That might be the case.” But I was truly embarrassed on the other hand.
John added that such condescending attitudes or words were demonstrated by congregational members. He commented that South Koreans seemed to have stereotypes of North Koreans as being “ignorant and rude, and very strong in personality.” In his early ministry experience, he frequently heard from people in the church, “You do so because you don’t know, since you came from North Korea.”
Other consultants also mentioned such remarks. Naomi was working for the
social welfare of North Korean defectors. When she worked with South Korean staff, she made sure that they would be careful not to say those words to North Korean defectors.
I tell this to my staff. “Don’t try to teach them with the assumption that North Koreans do not know. Don’t say that you are teaching them because they don’t know. That kills them twice. Begin like a blank sheet of paper without presuming anything. Do not attempt to teach them until they say with their own mouth that they don’t know.” The expression “They don’t know because they are from North Korea” is constantly spoken.
From Naomi’s perspective, “Even in the church, unconsciously, there is such a tendency to treat North Koreans like inferior people or a second-class ethnic people.” North Koreans were considered always as “recipients,” “ones who don’t know and whom we [South Koreans], therefore, should teach.”
Difficulty in the High-Context, Authoritarian Culture of Korean Churches
Some consultants illustrated times when their opinions or actions were depreciated as culturally inappropriate in the church. In the beginning of his ministry, John had a conflict with Sunday school teachers when he was a director of the ministry. He said that all the teachers left, disagreeing with his educational philosophy and plan. One of the reasons he was given by the teachers was, “Jundosanim [referring to the consultant] knows so little about Korean culture and system because you grew up in North Korea. So, you are giving an instruction that is incompatible with the educational style in Korea.” However, John stated that from his perspective, their arguments had no ground in Scripture’s teaching about discipleship and education. Nevertheless, they quit serving as teachers under him and reported to the senior pastor of the church that “the Jundosanim [referring to the consultant] who has not adapted to Korean culture is trying to implement an educational curriculum in a
North Korean style.”
Referring back to John’s earlier illustration about what happened in a staff
meeting as well as to this illustration, it seemed that the things that the consultant did not know might relate not to Korean culture in general, but to the authoritarian culture within South Korean churches. For instance, John’s conflict with the Sunday school teachers might be explained in terms of the large-power-distance culture, in which there should be a certain distance between adult teachers and teenage students and maintaining such distance and authority demands or prohibits certain types of educational practices. It is possible to infer that conventional educational practices which place unequal power and authority in teachers had been taken for granted but were unintentionally challenged by the consultant’s improvisation and innovative plan, which involved assigning equal access to teachers’ meetings and exercise of leadership to student leaders.
Similarly, Naomi shared about a short-term mission trip that she went on with
pastors from her church. She reported that during a worship service in the mission context abroad, the Holy Spirit worked powerfully through her among the indigenous people. After the service, the team consisting of pastoral staff had a meeting to debrief. As they shared how they understood what happened in the service, other pastors denied that what took place when Naomi led the service was the work of the Holy Spirit. When Naomi disagreed with them and affirmed that it was the work of the Holy Spirit, she was rebuked as being “spiritually arrogant.” Naomi stated that she could not understand why her words were perceived to be spiritually arrogant until a close person from the team came to her later and explained what was going on in the meeting and how things operated within the church. Naomi said, “From that event, I learned that the church has customs. There is an order in the church. I was too naïve.” The fact that the power of the Holy Spirit was manifested through Naomi, an unordained female pastor, rather than through the other senior or male pastors, was hard to acknowledge. In addition to her claim that it was authentic work of the Spirit, her action and words may have been a violation of cultural cues in a male-dominated society. In a way, she was castigated as spiritually arrogant because she was ignorant about those cultural cues or social norms.
Political Suspicion
As in the school context, a few consultants stated that prejudice in the church
was to some degree derived out of ideological or political suspicion rooted in history. In contrast to North Korea, which has imposed a human remolding system to raise communist revolutionaries who hate capitalism and Western imperialists, South Korea used to implement anti-communist political education in public schools in order to create vigilance against communists. It is likely that this caused hostility and negative perceptions of North Koreans among the older generations of South Koreans who also have painful memories of the Korea War in the 1950s. Given that background knowledge, John located South
Koreans’ prejudice against North Koreans in political education, saying, “I think here South Korea is not unlike North Korea since here they too had implemented another kind of political indoctrination.”
Such political suspicion seems to permeate Christians in the church as well.
Paul recalled how hard it was for him to obtain the opportunity to serve in a Korean church.
Even church members, too, had prejudice in the beginning. When I first came to this church, elders opposed strongly. When I applied for a children’s ministry position, the elders said, “How can a person who was educated in North Korea and came to South Korea apply for children’s ministry. What if he teaches communist education to our children?”
The elders were suspicious about his ideology and worried that he might instill communist ideas into the children.
Naomi shared an incident that occurred when she applied for a ministry
position in her church.
The words that they straightforwardly spoke to me were … they were wondering if I might be a spy, even if that might be one out of ten thousand cases. [Bitter smile.] Pastors…they were holding that suspicion … I didn’t notice it. I had never imagined it.
Naomi was struck by her pastor’s suspicion that she might be a spy. It was a critical incident that made her come out of her naïve way of thinking about prejudice. She said, “I used to feel that there was little difference between North Koreans and South Koreans” because she always hung out with South Korean friends. As for North Korean defector colleagues, Naomi confessed, “Honestly speaking, as for North Koreans, I considered them as ones whom I take care of” instead of as friends. She used to think that she did not need to care about how South Koreans thought of her, even if they had prejudice or suspicion about her. Regarding her previous attitude toward North Korean defector students who shared with her that they were hurt by prejudice, Naomi said that instead of showing empathy, “I rather had a sort of tendency to give a speech to them, something like ‘Why don’t you trust in God? If you don’t look upon people but look upon God, you can overcome everything.’” However, after the incident at the church, she realized that she was not a South Korean, either, even though all her friends were South Koreans. She was “after all, a North Korean.” Naomi’s firsthand experience of prejudice in “the real context”—by which she meant in the ministry context of the church—changed her thinking about prejudice. It furthermore changed her attitude toward North Korean defectors. She started to see the issue as real and have empathy. “If people have a suspicion about me, a person like me, who talks about God whenever I open my mouth,” she wondered about how much more hostility and prejudice North Korean defectors may experience when they go out in society.
A Lack of Opportunity
From the situated learning perspective, findings indicated that consultants’
learning through participation in practice within the community of practice, and the possibility of centripetal movement toward full membership, were impeded (Lave and Wenger 1991). Many consultants recognized that finding internship opportunities and ministry positions is not easy for anyone, including South Koreans, but noted that it is harder for North Korean defector theological students and graduates. Naomi, with frustration, said, “Really, North Koreans could not get a position in the church. … There again they are marginalized, hurt …” Paul stated that after he had gotten into an interview, he still had to negotiate as a North Korean defector to obtain the opportunity to serve.
I asked the senior pastor, “Please let me try for six months and you can fire me if you think this is not right.” I said, “If you give me an opportunity to serve for six months and if I cannot measure up to your expectation and you think that cultural codes seem to be incompatible, then you may dismiss me. Yet, I have prepared hard in my own way. Wouldn’t you think that you need to give a chance to me as well, since I too am called by God to be a servant of God?”
Paul’s sincerity as expressed in the above words was able to persuade the senior pastor and elders to let him serve as a children’s pastor.
Several consultants’ statements supported Paul’s remark that “among the North Korean defectors, those who have taken a standard course and are doing regular ministry are rare, not many” (Paul, Jeremy, Priscilla, Joseph, Esther, Naomi). By a “standard course,” it seems they referred to a typical path that South Korean theological students follow—beginning with serving in children’s ministry or youth ministry as a parttime pastor while attending theological college or seminary, moving through young adult ministry in their thirties, until they become a senior pastor or take a fulltime position in adult ministry. Paul and Jeremy compared the ministry field with “a battlefield.” Paul explained, “Churches desire growth and so they do not want to take a risk” by hiring North Korean defectors. This becomes a vicious circle. North Korean defectors cannot find a place to be trained and practice in the field; then their competence to carry out their functions in various areas in ministry is seen as less competitive; then it becomes harder for them to get opportunities to serve.
Meanings and Available Positions
Findings identified various positions that consultants took on in the given
situation—including positions that are available to them and alternative positions that they constructed more actively—and meanings that they assign to the positions.
Not a fulltime pastor. Philip said that he did not intend to be a fulltime
pastor in an ordinary sense in South Korea. His dream was “to build a community, a beautiful community with people whose hearts agree” while working for a freight transportation service to earn money to support his family. As our conversation went on, he described the context in which he decided not to pursue a fulltime vocational ministry.
As I see, there are no ministry positions in South Korea. In our school, a few thousand students are studying and a few hundred students are graduating every year, just in our denomination. Then how many are they in Korea, since there are many denominations? Think about it. Churches are full and pastors wait in line in every church. I am seeing everything. I submit my résumé but no place calls me to come. This is the situation, today. Then, do I have to force myself in the situation?
Although Philip’s self-supporting ministry plan was not to be considered as his reaction to the situation in which churches were saturated with pastors and competition for limited positions was high, it certainly had an impact. Similar to what Cho (2008) suggested, for that regard, Priscilla asserted that not all faithful North Korean defectors should be sent to a theological school for vocational ministry. This situation evokes the current crisis of theological education in the former Soviet Union (Elliott 2010) and presents a challenge to take the issue into consideration, not as a problem of few North Korean defector theological students and graduates, but as a problem of theological education and churches in South Korea and similar contexts.
Either North Korean defector ministry or church planting. Paul and Elisha
questioned why North Koreans were supposed to do North Korean defector ministry or North Korean mission just because they came from North Korea. Paul said that “there are many graduates,” but their options were limited. Concerning North Korean defector theological students and graduates, he stated, “Most of them are involved in special kinds of ministry, either mission-related positions to North Korea or ministry among North Korean defectors,” or “they unavoidably chose to do church planting.” This indicates that the trajectories available to North Korean defector theological students and graduates are limited. They are either expected to serve North Korean defector congregations in South Korean churches, or they decide to plant a church.
The issue was not that these North Korean defectors were doing ministry
among other North Korean defectors. Some did acknowledge that they were better equipped to do this ministry. What was at stake, however, was how they were positioned by Korean churches and how, as a result, the trajectories and positions available to them were narrowly determined by South Korean churches’ expectations and perceptions of North Korean defector theological students.
A sense of pride and entering the mainstream. Since there were a small
number of North Korean defector theological students who took the standard course of preparation that Paul mentioned earlier, the fact that they were involved in different types of ministry among South Korean congregations rather than in North Korean defector ministry, meant something to them. For instance, Jeremy, who was serving a young adult group in a
South Korean church, stated, “As I find myself standing in the middle of competition as a
North Korean defector, I have my own pride.” He elaborated as follows:
There were many South Koreans who could not find a ministry place and there are even fewer who are in charge of young adult ministry. … But I am in charge of young adult ministry. This is something amazing. … North Korea defectors could not do ministry, standing shoulder to shoulder with South Koreans in Korean churches and in the Korean society. Of course there are a few who are doing so. However, most of them serve in the churches planted for North Korean defectors, or minister in a North Korean group in a Korean church, being confined to their own people and culture.
Serving South Korean congregations was viewed as moving beyond their own cultural boundaries and minority identity and, in a way, entering a mainstream of society.
One of our brothers returned to an unorthodox church. One of the negative
ramifications of the lack of opportunities was that some North Korean defector students or graduates joined in a church with unorthodox doctrines. Priscilla was concerned about a North Korean defector student she knew who was involved in a heretical church. Having been advised to come out of the church by other friends and pastors, he left the church once, but Priscilla heard that he went back to the church again. She said, “However, he returned to the church. It’s because other churches do not hire him as a pastor. I don’t think that’s right.”
Priscilla knew that it was a matter of the student’s lack of discernment and did
not think that his decision to go back to a heretical church was a right or inevitable decision, even if no church hired him. However, she was upset about the situation where he could not find an orthodox church to provide him an opportunity to serve, which had affected his second decision to return to the unorthodox church that was more hospitable to him. In addition, a few consultants mentioned that churches with unorthodox teachings entice more defectors with hospitality and financial aid (Elisha, Daniel, Priscilla).
The inactive role of South Korean churches. Contending that chances for North Korean defector students to find ministry positions in Korean churches are several times narrower than those for South Korean students, Andrew critiqued a lack of sincerity among Korean churches in applying their words to action.
South Korean churches say, “We care about them and we need to build up North Korean defector leaders.” Yet, it is words alone. The reality is that they are reluctant to do so. … They do not yield the positions to us in order to let us get trained here [in South Korean churches]. They themselves have to be in those positions but they say only by words. That is the reality.
Consultants unanimously spoke about their need to be trained by being involved in practice in ministry contexts in order to be developed as leaders. Though leaders of South Korean churches stress and acknowledge the need, consultants perceived that they were not implementing actions to make a difference in the situation.
In a similar vein, Joseph reported that he challenged South Korean pastors
several years ago, asking, “Can’t fifty thousand churches in Korea take care of five thousand North Korean defectors?” Their response was, “They [the fifty thousand Korean churches] are not all ‘self-supporting churches.’” Joseph stated that he was grieved by how the pastors understood his statement. His primary intention was not to ask Korean churches to support North Korean defectors financially; rather, he was thinking about theological students and graduates, who in his words were “frontier people,” and hoping to have them trained in Korean churches. Joseph said, “They [North Korean defector students] worked hard, got ordained, and graduated, but there is no place to take them as interns.”
Naomi also critiqued some South Korean churches which lacked genuine
interest in developing defector leaders but brought in North Korean defector theological students or graduates in order to attract North Korean defectors and show off what their church did for them. Her hope was that South Korean churches might have “a simple aspiration” of “really wanting this person to be truly prepared to be a servant of God” and that out of “the simple aspiration” they might “use them [North Korean defector theological students] equally with South Koreans in the same departments” and “not ask them just to take care of North Koreans only.” Consultants expressed that, like South Korean theological students, they want to learn and be prepared by serving a range of age groups such as children, youth, and young adults, and in various ministry positions (Priscilla, Joseph, Naomi, Paul, Elisha, Esther, Jeremy, Andrew).
Creating internship opportunities on their own. Serving in Korean churches
offers an important learning experience. Some chose to start a church right away, but consultants viewed acquiring an experience of supervised ministry as helpful in various aspects. It helps them understand South Koreans by engaging deeply with them and learning South Korean cultures and ways of thinking, speaking, relating, and behaving (Paul, Daniel, Joseph, Esther, Priscilla). Moreover, they can integrate their knowledge with understanding the context and the people whom they serve and learn what it means to do ministry and how to do ministry, acquiring pastoral formation by engaging in practices in the ministry field (Esther, Paul, John, Naomi).
To meet these needs, consultants mentioned that since the number of North Korean defector theological students and pastors had increased, they were currently searching for ways to stand on their feet without waiting for South Korean churches to act upon the situation described above. One consultant, who was serving as a senior pastor of a church, shared that she was preparing to provide internship training for North Korean defector theological students in her church. After training them in her church, she would “send them off to Korean churches to do ministry in the orthodox Korean churches which take their résumés.”
Joseph and Andrew mentioned that North Korean defector ministers were
preparing to register their association with the government as a corporate organization so that they could hire and train some North Korean defector theological students. Joseph stated,
So, what we try to do is to enroll the association of North Korean defector ministers as a corporate organization. Since we cannot enter directly the society of South Korean churches, we want to employ North Korean defectors in our organization as interns or counselors so that they can learn administration, conversation skills, and so on. Even though it may not be perfect, we have to make that happen soon so that we can prepare ourselves. We must do quickly on our own. Then Korean churches may be challenged, thinking, “Ah, these people can do it well on their own without us. This is not right, we should do it together.” Then they may ask us how to do it and may cooperate with us.
This indicated that the North Korean defectors had decided to wait no longer for Korean churches to intervene and do for them what is needed. Instead, they would like to initiate the attempt to resolve the issue.
Summary
Consultants’ perception of their place in Korean society, in theological
schools, and in churches was expressed by prejudices affected by their socioeconomic class, Korea’s unique historical and ideological context, and negative stereotypes of North Korean defectors. Consultants felt relatively more disadvantaged and disrespected in churches than in schools. If learning is seen as legitimate peripheral participation in the community of practice and novices learn by following a trajectory that guarantees a centripetal movement from peripheral participation through observation toward enjoying full membership in the community by having more access to various practices and participating in different modes, North Korean defector theological students and pastors’ learning had been impeded to some extent by their social location in South Korea (Lave and Wenger 1991). In other words, in spite of their desire to participate in communities of practice and learn by engaging in ministry practice in South Korean churches, their access to various ministry opportunities was often denied or limited to serving their own defector community.
Positioning: Negotiation and Contestation
Having understood evidences of the consultants’ social location and
positionality within the theological school and the church, partly echoing their place in the South Korean society at large, the following section presents findings that show how the consultants contested and negotiated the socially constructed identities assigned to North
Korean defectors. Their narrative identity negotiation and construction has epistemological and ontological implications as to how North Korean defectors made sense of their lives
(Somers 1994).
The Title “North Korean Defector” Has Been Attached to Me
Several consultants described their identity as North Korean defectors but put
it in a passive phrase. They were named and, as a result, positioned as North Korean defectors by others in South Korea. Elisha referred to himself by saying, “I was a North Korean defector back then, I am a North Korean defector, and I will be a North Korean defector in the future as well.” Asked why he described himself in that way since he was young, in his twenties, and it is relatively easy for the young to learn a Korean accent and Korean culture and live like an ordinary college student in South Korea, he answered:
It is the society that sees me as [a North Korean defector]. Even though I am a Korean citizen according to my social security card, the society does not see me as such. That is what defines me, how the society judges me and perceives me.
Apart from the society that reminded him, from time to time, of the fact that he was from
North Korea, it was not his own choice of positioning to be hyperconscious about his being a
North Korean defector. Elisha said, “I have never treated South Koreans and North Koreans differently in relationships and I will continue to do so. The simple truth that I came from Hamkyung province [in North Korea] does not mean that I have to acknowledge what the history has separated.”
Thomas told how he used to be reluctant to reveal the fact that he was from North Korea but was no longer concerned about it. He accepted the fact that he could not avoid the title that was attached to him anyway.
I am, after all, a person from North Korea. Even though I think differently, it does not make me not be a North Korean defector. Now that the label, North Korean defector, was, in any way, attached to me, I don’t need to be daunted by the fact that others look at me so.
However, this acceptance did not mean that Thomas’s life was characterized as passive, being positioned by others. Instead, he seemed to be living fully as a North Korean defector pastor, ministering to North Korean defectors and speaking about and for them in public. Likewise, Jeremy put it this way: “The title, North Korean defector, even though it is not the name that we obtained because we wanted to have it but it is rather the name that our historical era has given us ….” He construed that the title was not their choice but a given, a title given to him and other people who are from North Korea but live in South Korea in a particular time and a situation for a particular purpose of the history.
Negotiating and Contesting Positions
The title of North Korean defector carries some baggage: preconceived
notions and prejudices in society, church, and school; social locations such as being socioeconomically, culturally, or politically marginalized to some extent; and ramifications in social interactions and in access to opportunities and positions of ministry. As the consultants stressed, the title of “North Korean defector” was imposed by society with certain stigmas. However, consultants negotiated and contested negative preconceptions of the title and attributed positive meaning and mission to the historical title.
Is It Really True that Everything about North Korea Is All Bad?
Naomi was a hardworking person and was successfully adjusting at school
and church, but the incident in which she was confronted by prejudice and suspicion made her realize that she was, after all, a North Korean like any other North Korean defector. It utterly shook her sense of “identity.” After that, she said, she started reading all the theses or dissertations written about North Koreans. She described how she felt while reading the studies as follows:
So, I entered an academic research site online and read all the dissertations that were written about North Koreans. In doing so, I experienced that something, some kind of a sense of rebel or opposition was arising from within. Of course, they [researchers] studied hard and conducted research with a heart that wanted to help North Koreans. However, with the rising sense of resistance, though I could not articulate what it was, this kind of thought emerged from within, “This is not it! This is not right. Let me study this people myself. Is it really true that this people have only bad things? Even if they had lived in that system [of North Korea], does it mean that the things that this people have and used to have only deserve to be thrown away?”
Naomi felt resistance because those studies written about North Koreans appeared to represent the people unfairly, pointing out only negative things about them. She went on to say,
I am sure God will use what they already have and the life that they have lived too, and God will use talents that He already has given them, which have not been discovered. Why can’t we make this people alive by empowering them, by acknowledging and using one thing that they can do well, even though nine out of ten are wrong?
Naomi contested perspectives that negated everything about North Koreans because they supposed that the wrong political system spoiled everything pertaining to North Korea. By drawing from a faith narrative, she claimed that God would be able to redeem their life experiences and talents and use their positive attributes in spite of many negative attributes. Esther made a similar comment: “Is everything that came out of North Korea all bad without question?” Her own answer was, “I don’t think so.” Esther challenged this type of negative perspective by saying, “If you say that it is all bad without question, how hurtful can that be for North Koreans?” She stated that such a way of thinking negates the whole lives of those who had lived in North Korea for thirty or forty years or even longer, seventy or eighty years.
It Is Not a Shameful Title but a Proud One
Naomi shared, “I used to feel ashamed to be a North Korean. That is the
feeling that all North Koreans experience, feeling a deeper sense of inferiority and feeling more hurt by a cold atmosphere of the South Korean society in which they are discriminated and getting more alienated and depressed.” Yet, after she regained her North Korean identity, she spoke boldly to her fellow North Korean defectors: “You, be confident! North Koreans are not deficient people. Have a sense of dignity! I can say this now confidently. Being a North Korean is not a shameful thing.” Likewise, Jeremy stated that he was proud of being a North Korean defector.
It is the pride that I have on my own. ... This name, North Korean defector, which sounds like and looks like a vulnerable social minority, will, someday, become a strong name in God, which can shake this Korean Peninsula. I believe that we will be able to stand at the center of the mainstream as a generation of reunification.
By drawing from Scripture narratives in which God empowered and used the weak or the vulnerable and made their names great over and over in his redemptive history, Jeremy contested the present marginalized positioning of North Korean defectors and recast their future identity. In fact, his identity work was carried out not just narratively but also through his actual involvement in preparation for the reunification of Korea with politicians, social activists, and colleagues.
Joseph confronted the idea that North Korean defectors were there for help.
I spoke to a person like this. “You folks [South Koreans], don’t think that we are here to receive alms. And don’t think that you are abandoning us, saying, ‘They are useless!’ We are not the kind of people who can be abandoned because you abandon us. And if God trains us through you, be grateful that you are used. If this work is fulfilled through you, you should be grateful. Why? It’s because you are being used by God. However, if you are not used because you are not so, a day will come when you will weep and gnash your teeth. If not through you, God is going to train us through other people in a different place.” I spoke that critically. We did not come to receive relief aids.
Again, alluding to a few threads of biblical narrative, Joseph negotiated and positioned South
Koreans and North Korean defectors differently. Joseph challenged those who depreciated North Korean defectors as if they came to occupy the bottom of the socioeconomic hierarchy and receive alms. He interpreted the presence of North Korean defectors in South Korea as having a special purpose for reunification and as an answer to the prayers of Korean churches for “reunification through gospel.” In a sense, he leveled both South Koreans and North Korean defectors as servants who carry out the purpose and will of God.
Inappropriate Question, “Why Are You Not Doing North Korean Ministry?”
Elisha uttered the following words with an uncomfortable smile: “Because I
came from North Korea, so I should do North Korean mission?” One of the themes that emerged out of conversation with him was that he can be sent anywhere. “Who knows if God will send me to Africa or the Mongol desert? No one knows it.” Elisha’s remarks reflected that his choices of ministry in the present and future may have been restrained by expectations and perceptions of others who considered that North Korean defectors should do North Korean mission. Whereas Elisha had a desire to serve his own people, he at the same time challenged the notion by saying that God could let him remain in South Korea or go somewhere other than North Korea. He implied that North Korean defectors have ministry paths as varied as those of South Koreans.
Since he was serving in a South Korean church where no single North Korean
attends, Paul frequently heard comments such as, “Why are you not doing North Korean ministry? Why do you, as a North Korean, abandon your identity as a North Korean?” Because he served a South Korean congregation, he had only limited interactions with North
Korean defectors except a formal interaction through a North Korean defector organization. “I think there are people who don’t like that,” said Paul. However, Paul contested being positioned by such a narrow perspective.
My spiritual mindset is different. Can there be a distinction between North Koreans and South Koreans in the kingdom of God? No, believers are simply believers. On the other hand, there are marginalized people, people who live in a more difficult situation than North Koreans in the Korean society. Do I view them from my North Korean identity? No. I view them from my servant of the Lord identity. I see them as people of the Lord, which is their identity, and I see them from my identity as a steward called by God. So they are the same, whether they came from Southeast Asia or from anywhere. They are God’s sheep and people who are in need of grace through the precious blood of Christ.
Paul asserted that his ministry and his identity could not be confined by the origin of his birth. From the perspective of “the kingdom of God,” according to his own term, his identity went beyond “a geographical identity.” Esther also expressed her desire to plant a church and serve a congregation mixed with South Koreans and North Koreans after her graduation. She challenged Korean churches’ tendency to create communities for North Korean defectors separate from South Korean congregations.
Neither Better Nor Worse: Neutralizing a Gap
Consultants’ contestation and negotiation of positioning and identity also took
place by neutralizing a gap between North Koreans and South Koreans (Kusow 2004). While their words or actions were sometimes disrespected as ignorant or culturally inappropriate, and while they worked hard to accommodate South Korean culture and ways of speaking and living, consultants commented that South Korean culture, like North Korean culture, is not a perfect culture that they fully should absorb. John said, “Since I am living in a Korean culture, I cannot but wear ‘contents, so-called, culture.’ However, it is not a perfect culture that is commendable, since I see a lot of shortcomings.”
Likewise, Andrew stated that he had a higher expectation about a quality of
life and cultural standards of South Koreans when he was in China. Yet, he said that he “never felt hard to adjust in South Korea,” nor sensed a “culture gap.” Rather, his expectation collapsed while living in South Korea. He explained,
I realized that South Koreans have, rather, lower social consciousness than me. I believe that living as a member of a society, as a person who belongs to a society, I have to think not only about myself but also about the entire society as we take an action or as we speak a word, but it [social consciousness or cultural standard of South Koreans] was really immature. Economy has exceedingly developed but there seems to be a considerable discrepancy between economy and maturity of the society. Of course, North Koreans are like that too.
Andrew discovered that South Koreans’ cultural standards and social consciousness were lower than his in some ways, and he perceived that they were little different from those of North Korean defectors.
Jeremy shared that he had at first expected that South Koreans would show
more care and consideration to him since he came from North Korea. However, he gradually realized that South Korean society was predominantly characterized by “selfish individualism,” and then he expected it no longer. In addition, some may highlight conflicts among North Korean defectors, but Jeremy put it this way: “It is just the same degree of conflicts that folks here have among themselves.” His point was that the discord that defectors had among themselves or in South Korean society was not special problems, but similar in kind and degree to the problems that South Koreans already have.
In Fact, We Are Better in Some Regards
Some consultants affirmed that their experiences, in fact, had made them
strong and had equipped them with better perspectives on certain issues. For instance,
Elisha stated that some of the most important gains from his experience as a North Korean defector were his “strong will” to endure suffering and affliction and his perspectives on
North Korea and North Korean mission. He shared that the firsthand experience of how South Korea ministered and reached North Koreans in China and South Korea, and of the ideological and economic systems of both North Korea and South Korea, enabled him to reflect on both systems critically.
Jeremy also said that his rich experience of both systems helped give him a
unique perspective that South Koreans did not have.
Rather, because I came from North Korea and because I am a North Korean defector, I am a person who experienced the two systems. So, I can share what folks here cannot see in terms of a history of the Korean peninsula and a view on nation, and a historical consciousness that people here cannot but miss, as if I extract an essence of the worldview of each country by a syringe, and use it as I lecture or give testimony by having made the essence to be my own nourishment.
In addition, Jeremy considered that the suffering that he experienced in North Korea “was not something that tore North Koreans down but rather built them up.”
I think I am rather grateful. People here cannot buy the experience of suffering, difficulty, persecution, and hunger in the land of North Korea. However, as for me, God made me born in the land and tasted what was going on in the land and then sent me here, so …
Consultants made new meanings out of their origins and life experience tinted with suffering, poverty, and persecution. Rather than stigma, their experiences were part of the portfolios which constituted their identities (Gee 2000). By reconstructing their stories of past experiences with better meanings, they positioned themselves as ones who could make contributions to certain areas with their unique perspectives and ones who were trained to be strong. In addition, consultants appreciated their unique privilege to see and experience the strengths and weakness of South Korean churches and theological schools. It is likely that their marginal position of in-between provided an opportunity for “creativity” (Lee 1995, 47) and a unique possibility of being “in-beyond” (1995, 62).
Furthermore, some consultants claimed that some aspects of North Korean
culture and certain habits of heart assimilated in North Korea need to be better appreciated compared to those of South Korea. For instance, John argued, “We spoke badly about North Korea but they have a lot of positive aspects, too.” One of the aspects that John illustrated was the sacrifice that North Koreans are willing to make for others. He explained, “Even though they are not born-again Christians, pieces of conscience, given by God and planted in the people, are fostered by the ethos of the North Korean society, and as a result they are willing to make such sacrificial choices for others.” Somewhat bashfully, he shared about a personal choice that he made for the benefit of the church that he served and explained that the collectivistic disposition that he assimilated and internalized in the North
Korean collective society still remained in him. He confessed that since he became a Christian, this disposition has been nurtured by being “combined with Christian love, sacrifice, and commitment that were demonstrated on the cross by Christ” and “constituted who he is now.”
Summary and Discussion
As Nagel said about ethnic identities, any social, collective identities have
“varying degrees of stigma or advantage attached” to them (1994, 154). Whether it was intended or not, consultants’ stories showed that they were negotiating their positioning by resisting stigma and inferior stereotypes attached to the collective identity of North Korean defectors, neutralizing the gap, attributing new meanings to their past, and projecting their desired future based on faith narratives.
Even though one’s positioning or identity is fluid since it is socially
constructed and embedded in relationships and stories which change over time and place (Somers 1994, 621), the present is a particularly critical period for positioning of North Korean defectors, which may affect their social integration and also influence the positioning of North Koreans in relation to South Koreans in the future. Consultants’ current positioning may facilitate North Korean defectors’ “symbolic” or practical allegiance to their North Korean identity in opposition to Korean identity, or it may lay a foundation for social capital that connects different groups of people and “reciprocal enculturation” between North Korea and South Korea (Li 2006).
Identity Construction and Learning
This study did not explore the identities of consultants as fixed categories,
though findings presented various meanings and subject positions attached to a particular identity of consultants as North Korean defectors. By applying a fleeting, temporary notion of identity that is constructed and reconstructed, the study took the consultants’ stories seriously and focused on their narrative construction of identities. The interview was a context for their identity talk which gave consultants opportunities to construct “vivid versions of their personal identities” by contesting existing identities and creating new ones (Opsal 2011, 138). In fact, their identities will change and evolve as their relationships with others change in a particular time and place and as they find alternative stories to locate their stories within or to which their stories belong (Somers 1994; McCarthey and Moje 2002). Nevertheless, it is true that the stories consultants told were more than presentations of who they were. The stories were their enacted and lived identities from which they understood themselves and the world and by which their actions were guided (McCarthey and Moje 2002, 232).
The following section presents consultants’ identity construction of the
collective identities of North Korean defectors and their personal identities as North Korea defector theological students and pastors. Findings showed that consultants’ narrative reconstruction and contestation of identities was an integral aspect of learning, in which identity formation takes place by interacting with others, resisting external formative influences, and internalizing particular narratives.
Collective Identity of North Korean Defectors
Analysis of the findings identified a couple of overarching narratives in which
consultants located the collective identity of North Korean defectors in this particular time and place: being one people and being sent to prepare for reunification.
“One people,” “Korean people,” or “Korean Peninsula”
Consultants used terms such as “one people,” “a Korean race,” and “Korean
Peninsula” to highlight the fact that North Koreans and South Koreans are one people. For instance, complaining about a South Korean diplomatic policy against North Korea, Hannah stated, “But we are one people. Even the Chinese help them [North Koreans], but why doesn’t our [South] Korea help them while living in affluence?” She described the recent incident in which North Korea attacked the ship Cheon-an and took away lives of 46 South Korean young men in the navy as a “brothers’ fight.” With sadness, she said, “In brothers’ fight, why do we have to shoot each other?” At the same time, she was displeased that other countries as “strangers” interfered in someone’s “household issue” (i.e., the issue between North Korea and South Korea).
Paul, likewise, underlined the oneness of the two Koreas. He stated, “I am
very grateful that we are one people. It would have been difficult if I had emigrated to a foreign country.” Paul then shared his dream about the united church: “I don’t dream of a North Korean church because when reunification takes place, a North Korean church will exist no longer.” He said, “There will be only one kind of church in the Korean peninsula,” that is, “a church where both North Koreans and South Koreans will be co-present,” and a “church characterized by homogeneity as one Korean people.” It was taken for granted by all the consultants that North Korea and South Korea were one country and one people, and therefore will be one again.
“We Were Sent Ahead” to Prepare for Reunification
Consultants’ stories of their collective identity highlighted the idea that they
were sent for a purpose. Their identity was teleological. This is congruent with the framework of identity organized by Abdelal et al. “Social purposes” is one of the “four non-mutually-exclusive types” that the content of a collective identity can take (2006, 697). Abdelal and associates state that the group attributes particular goals to its identity and that such missions, purposes, or interests that define the collective identity of the group are contested and negotiated within the group members (2006). As far as North Korean defectors’ collective identity is concerned, the specific social purpose was preparation for reunification.
For instance, by reminding of the difficulties in bringing two separated
systems and peoples together after the abrupt fall of the Berlin Wall in Germany, Naomi called North Korean defectors “gifts of God” to prepare and practice reunification together in advance. In addition, she said that the small number of North Korean defectors in South Korea today is a “reunification future” and “the seed that God sent to prepare for reunification.” Jeremy made a similar statement but added the phrase “rehearsal.” They were sent to “rehearse reunification with South Koreans,” since “South Koreans cannot go to North Korea.” Many South Koreans who study, write, and speak about unification issues agree with the point that consultants made in that South Koreans are currently running through reunification with North Korean defectors to minimize conflicts when two Koreas that have lived around sixty years in completely different systems will be together. They are getting to know each other.
Joseph claimed that migration of North Korean defectors should not be seen
as a mere social phenomenon but from a spiritual perspective. He said, “From a human perspective, it appears to be a social phenomenon in which North Koreans came to escape the country in fear of death and pain. However, if everything is understood as being in the hand of God, God is preparing for reunification of the Korean peninsula by bringing out North Koreans who were nonetheless, living together with parents and brothers no matter how welloff or ill-off they were there and by sending them to South Korea.”
Consultants’ Identity Construction as Pastoral Formation
Consultants’ narrative construction of identity involved their reconstruction of
the meaning of their past—their birth in North Korea and their suffering and loss as defectors. Their Christian faith, calling, and mission transformed the configuration of their meaning perspectives and enabled them to attach new meanings to them. At the same time, it incorporates “present happenings” and “future desires about what and how they want to be” (Opsal 2011, 138). It was clear that identities are social and relational, because consultants in the process of identity construction constantly compared and made reference to social others from whom they wanted to distinguish or distance themselves (Abdelal et al. 2006, 698; Commuri 2010, 6; Soreide 2006, 534).
Furthermore, consultants’ identity construction was characterized as not only
social but also spiritual. As McAdams points out, ideology and religion are sources of discourses that people use to tell stories and construct their identity by narrating those stories (McAdams et al. 2006). Consultants constructed their identities by narrating their past and present in alignment with discourses about God’s sovereignty, providence, and intervention in history. It also appeared that God was assumed as social Other by consultants in that their identity reconstruction was embedded in relationship and interaction with him.
Making Sense of the Past
As seen in their collective identity as North Korean defectors, consultants had
a conviction that it was not their own will but the will of God that they were in South Korea personally as well as collectively. This conviction made a difference in their confidence and the legitimacy of their life in South Korea. In this light, there was no reason to hide their identity, unlike other defectors. Esther said, “I speak openly about it. Why shall I hide?
God sent me from there. I didn’t come according to my will. He took me out of North Korea.” Before he reached the kind of conviction that Esther had, Peter had wrestled since he came to South Korea.
Is it sin? While I was praying about it, God said, “Your being born in North Korea is not sin. North Korea became a devastated land. You came to this land [South Korea] because I have a purpose and plan for you. So, do not have a negative thought about it.” From then on, I thought that the reason why I was born in North Korea, it was for God to elect me. Also, that I came out of North Korea was by the plan of God, according to God’s will. God predestined, and for that purpose I was born and lived in North Korea, and then he called me and he called me to this land. That is what I believe.
Scholars recognize that people, especially those whose lives are characterized by migration, transition, or radical changes, need at least temporary coherence, which may stabilize their identities and help them perceive and understand the world from these identities. Somers states that “people make sense of past and present happenings by integrating them within one or more narratives (1994, 614).” Peter, too, located the radical transition that has happened in his life in the story of God’s sovereign will and providence. It replaced his doubt, bitterness and shame with a reorientation of life with a new sense of purpose and meaning.
Naomi also shared how her dismantling experience was gradually integrated.
I had nothing. I wasted my best youth season in the world. I really wished that I could take my time back and restore it. [Crying.] Nevertheless, that was not my fault, you know. Yet, still I complained to God at one point. However, at another point, I thought there must be God’s will about my life. It was because it was impossible to doubt when I looked back at the time when I met God.
Like Naomi, some consultants expressed their pain and regret for the period of time that they lost. Their lost years between leaving North Korea and arriving in South Korea ranged from several years up to ten years as they were in their twenties and early thirties, the best seasons of life, as Naomi expressed. In those years, they were deprived of various life opportunities, including education. Caused by a triggering event, Naomi experienced a lapse of sadness about the lost time and needed reaffirmation about the meaning of her past life course. In such a time, the narratives that she revisited to find meaning in her past and reenact her identity were the same stories that other consultants mentioned (Peter, Naomi,
Jeremy, Daniel, Priscilla)
Daniel was an active writer and speaker about North Korea. He said his
published testimony was being read by North Koreans in China. His “way of being in the world” was guided by his identity with a special purpose as he was able to trace God’s predestination and guidance in every phase of his life.
God led me first to know about communism. When an appointed time had come, he awakened me to the fact that communism was not the truth. He let me become a ___official and lived in Pyongyang and then when I went to China …. Therefore, in order to make me come here, God prepared
everything beforehand. So, that is why I confess God. I lived without knowing God at all; instead denying him. However, God knew me beforehand and touched every single thing in my life. Once I realized it, I was overwhelmed. Then, there is nothing more glorious than knowing God and dying for him.
From the place of birth, education, and career experience, to the path of coming to South Korea, Daniel’s entire life course was understood in light of God’s preordination and providence.
Sent to Prepare Systematically for Ministry
Consultants’ stories revealed that they did not come for anything else but
systematic preparation for their future ministry evangelizing North Koreans and restoring churches in North Korea when the time comes (Andrew, Peter, John, Paul, Phoebe, Priscilla, Naomi, Tim). Some said they could stay safely in China and others said they were planning to return to North Korea to share the gospel. Yet, they sensed that they needed to come to South Korea for a more organized theological education and ministry preparation. For instance, Andrew said he was caught while doing ministry in China. He recalled how he felt in the prison that he had to prepare for a time when God would use him.
But you know, in prison you cannot design the future. However, if I will be alive, it has become very certain to me that I will be used by God. So I started thinking, “How should I be prepared?” I sensed even the suffering in prison was part of the preparation … “There is surely a task that God will accomplish through me and I need to be ready for it.” I didn’t know what it was but I sensed it very strongly. That’s why, when I was able to come out of the prison, I attempted again to escape North Korea. While I was in China, the chance had come. I thought I should go to South Korea and study theology in order to be prepared systematically.
Naomi and Priscilla shared similar stories. When they were released from prison in North Korea with a restored faith, they felt a sense of mission for North Korea and a compelling desire to get ready for the mission. Naomi explained that she met God in prison, and she could have obeyed, even if God commanded her to go back to North Korea to share the gospel right away, but she had one fear: “I was absolutely not prepared at all and I don’t know much about God, then how could I share?” That was why and how Naomi began theological education. John, likewise, described himself as “an overseas or international student” from North Korea to South Korea, who came for well-organized theological training to prepare for the restoration of North Korea. Phoebe and Paul also shared that the constant threat of Chinese and North Korean secret police and inadequate circumstances to acquire systematic theological education in China led them to South Korea.
These consultants were strongly motivated learners with a sense of mission
and calling. A couple of consultants said that, in the beginning, their aforementioned understanding of who they were and why they were in South Korea made them anxious to finish theological education as soon as possible and start doing ministry (Andrew and Esther).
It was because they had a sense of urgency to get ready before the uncertain time comes.
Christian or Pastoral Identity Beyond National Identity
There were consultants who expressed their primary identity as Christian. Except Mary, most of those consultants spoke of their Christian identity in relation to their vocational call to ministry. Mary described herself a person with strong pride, but since she left North Korea, it hurt her pride when she was in China and South Korea, that her country was poor. She shared that it was when she realized that she was a child of God that the fact that she was a North Korean defector or poor, and also how others saw her, mattered no longer.
Paul stated that because adhering to a North Korean identity would hinder him
from embracing and serving others, God transformed his sense of identity. Although he had a sense of “nostalgia” within him as a North Korean about his “home and hometown in North Korea,” it was not “the most important identity” for him. The identity that he considered most central was a Christian one, being “called to be a pastor of a church in the united Korea, who ministers to both South Koreans and North Koreans.” He explained,
Because I have to do ministry with Koreans as well as North Koreans, the source of power that I can embrace both of them is love of Christ, a sense of calling, and love for the souls whose lives Christ bought with his blood on the cross. That is what will enable me to do a pastoral ministry in the church of the united Korea. That’s the reason for which God changed my identity.
Paul’s pastoral identity allowed him to view not only Koreans but also other ethnic peoples without distinction as “sheep that God entrusted to him” and “brothers and sisters.” He was simply a servant and shepherd to take care of them.
In spite of confrontation with others who criticized him as abandoning his North Korean identity, Paul was constructing a kind of identity as a pastor which was more inclusive and transcended ethnic or national boundaries. In the process, he utilized two narratives: (1) stories of renowned pastors such as “Rev. Kyungjin Han” and “Rev. Sangbok Kim” who were born in North Korea but came down to South Korea because of the communist revolution and planted and ministered to large and influential churches in South Korea, and (2) the story of Jesus, who was born in Israel but whose mission was not limited to the people of Israel.
A Wake-Up Call for South Korean Churches
As North Korean defector theological students and pastors, consultants’
identity narratives included their role or mission to South Korean churches. Jeremy stated that not only theological students but all North Korean defectors should live “a life of ministers.” One of the roles that they ought to play as ministers was to “purify Koreans’ faith.” He elaborated:
I hope South Koreans may become more vigilant and wake up from the sleep of blessings, which filled their belly full. I feel they are so indifferent about North Korea and the issue of reunification. Even though they say they may have a concern about it, the concern is an abstract one. Even if it is not an abstract one, it is merely a concern out of selfish motives. It hurt me to see such a propensity among South Koreans.
In Jeremy’s eyes, South Korean Christians were asleep, with little concern about North
Koreans and reunification. That led him to find the answer to his own question, “Why did God make even North Korean defectors and even me come to this land, although it is full of pastors and theological students in the Korean society?” His answer was as follows:
I believe that there must be a different reason that God led even a person like me to come and do ministry here. So, I believe that God wants me to live differently from Koreans, even though I am a Korean. I should not be forgetful about the pain in the land of North Korea, but have a mission to awaken [South] Koreans to see the pain in the land of North Korea. I believe all the North Korean defectors who came to the land of Korea have a mission to make known the brutal truth of the pain in the land of North Korea. If we stay quiet with our mouth closed tightly, I think that is a rebellion to God who sent us for that mission to this land, and it will make God sorry.
Jeremy felt that North Korean defectors had a collective call to live differently in the midst of
South Koreans, remembering the pain of North Koreans, speaking the truth about the North Korean regime, and stirring up South Korean Christians. Philip also said that whenever he had a chance he spoke about the realities of North Korea to South Korean students in his theological school. However, he confessed that he was frustrated by crying out alone in the church.
Just having observed this church, I feel suffocated. In the midst of abundance, it is absolutely difficult that souls are being awakened. Because they are affluent, they do not pray and they don’t want to do anything. They just want to play, enjoy, and do things like that only. No matter how much I cry out alone that we should not live like this and say that North Koreans are starving to death, they … because they are affluent. But only those who are in trouble know the heart so that they pray together.
Like Jeremy, Philip saw the affluence of South Korea blinding Christians to the pain of North Koreans. Likewise, Paul shared that when he arrived at the airport in Korea and prayed, he sensed that God sent him to be “a trumpeter to the Korean church,” “to proclaim” and “to show” “how much [God] loves North Korea and is preparing for North Korea and how near the time has come.” In fact, he said that God had actually brought many people to him so that he had visited and lectured in many places such as military organizations, police offices, and churches about North Korea and mission.
To Carry Out Mission to the Ends of the World
In their narrative construction of identities, consultants distanced themselves
from those Christians who fell asleep in an affluent culture, preferring to align themselves with persecuted underground Christians. This implied that with persecuted Christians in China and North Korea, they should carry the gospel to the end of the world, particularly referring to Muslim countries. For instance, Jeremy perceived that “market-driven ministry values” permeated the churches and theological schools in South Korea and less and less people liked to go to unreached places. However, he asserted, “Whether it is a Muslim country, a minority ethnic people in a deserted area of China, or anywhere else that [South] Koreans feel reluctant to go, we North Koreans can go.” Similarly, Naomi described her vision as “world evangelism through North Koreans.” She traced the beginning of this vision to her short-term mission trip several years ago. Naomi learned that it is still true that “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few” because “there are so many theological students and pastors in Korea who don’t have a place to go,” but “there are few people who want to go where God wants them to go.”
Paul asserted that the kind of faith that God requires of Christians in the
churches of the future unified Korea would be “the eschatological faith that waits for the second coming of Christ,” “the faith of martyrs,” and “the faith that longs for the life beyond here and now.” From his perspective, South Korean churches have lost those kinds of faith, which they used to have in the early church history of Korea. Instead, he pointed out that “faith in prosperity gospel, which focuses on earthly blessings” had become a predominant feature of churches in South Korea and that it would be impossible to evangelize Israel and Muslim countries with that kind of faith.
To Live in an Answerable Way
Somers states that people construct their identities by “locating themselves or
being located within a repertoire of emplotted stories,” and those stories that they tell guide their action (1994, 614). This was true to consultants’ stories. Their stories and narratively enacted collective and personal identities contained purposes, future desires, expectations, and memories, and they directed the ways in which consultants lived their lives in the given time and place (Somers 1994, 614).
Several relevant themes captured consultants’ ways of being in the world. First, consultants were no longer afraid of how others perceived them, but had freedom from others’ evaluation (Priscilla, Elisha, Mary, Paul, John, Naomi, and Sharon). Second, they were living out the phrase “when in Rome do as Romans do” (Priscilla, Paul, Hannah, Andrew). They were becoming cultural brokers, reconciling and helping North Koreans and South Koreans to understand each other better as part of the preparation for reunification. Finally, what best characterized their attitudes toward their living today was a sense of being answerable to their fellow North Koreans in their homeland. Some consultants appeared to be living in the presence of invisible others to whom their lives were accountable. Esther said,
I want to prepare thoroughly and go out after sufficient preparation. So, I am studying about North Korean defectors. I train myself and do my best to get myself ready. I don’t know when the time comes. I used to be hasty but now I believe, even if I live one day, I live it right. Doing so in itself is what I can do for North Koreans. Getting myself ready now is for God and for North Korea.
Everything Esther does, including studying hard and living every day faithfully in the present, has become part of taking every step toward preparation for the future mission for North Koreans. Also, Naomi described that she wished to stay in the mission field in Ethiopia because she wanted to be with people who were suffering like North Koreans.
I made a resolution: “God, I am not going back to [South] Korea again. I will do mission.” It was because I feared a little … if I go to Korea, I may forget North Koreans again and be at ease again. There are so many ways to live affluently and many short-cuts to live conveniently. If you find a right person, the person can support you powerfully. And if you comply and obey well the person, you can become successful in the church and ride on high. I thought that that would become a temptation. I might soak my way into it because I myself too do not like hardship. … Rather, I will go to an environment which is similar to North Korea. […] Why? Because what will I answer and how can I enter hearts of North Koreans in the future when reunification comes true? They will ask me, ‘What have you done for our North Korean people?’
Naomi was afraid that she would get used to comfortable living in South Korea, forget her people, and be unable to find an answer for them when they are finally reunited in the future.
Summary and Discussion
Consultants’ stories that enacted their collective identity with the particular
sense of mission are not to be seen as their creative construction. As Gee refers to Bakhtin’s view, “anything anyone thinks or says is, in reality, composed of bits and pieces of language that have been voiced elsewhere” or circulated in various texts, conversations, media, and institutions (2000, 114). Their stories were first of all embedded in Christians’ faith-seeking interpretations of their lives in light of grand themes of Scripture. At the same time, their voices reflected the discourses of “significant narrators” in society at large, as well as within the Christian community, about recent North Korean defectors in South Korea.
From that perspective, their narrative construction of identity is viewed as a learning process as well as a social process in which consultants internalize and adopt faith, cultural, social, or institutional discourses that give meaning to who they are, inspire who they want to become in the future, and guide their actions.
In addition, it seems that the stories they told were juxtaposed with another
kind of discourse from the reservoir of cultural, political, and institutional discourses about North Korean defectors in South Korean society, illustrated by the consultants’ stories about certain stereotypes of them, such as those that viewed them as recipients of social welfare.
CHAPTER 6
THE FUTURE: ENVISIONING THEOLOGICAL
EDUCATION (RQ 3)
By pursuing a deeper understanding of North Korean defector theological
students’ and pastors’ learning experience of theological education in South Korea, this study intended ultimately to gain insights and identify relevant issues in preparing for theological education to be reestablished in the land of North Korea in the future. The findings reported in this chapter do not focus on the researcher’s construal of what consultants’ experience meant and implied for the future theological education in North Korea—that will come in the last chapter. Instead, the findings in this chapter primarily describe the consultants’ own envisioning of future theological education in North Korea, based on their learning experience in the churches, theological schools, and society of South Korea and in light of their cultural frames of reference, past and ongoing experiences, positioning, and negotiation and construction of identities. Yet, consultants made suggestions that have less direct reference to the findings of the first two research questions discussed in chapter four and five.
They are also included in this chapter.
Theological Education Matters and Needs to Be Different
All of the consultants recognized the significance of developing good leaders
and the pivotal role that theological education ought to play in this process. Such
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recognition was grounded in their experience of totalitarian leaders, their observation of how people have suffered in North Korea on the one hand and their awareness of the failures of pastors and Christianity being reproached by society in South Korea on the other hand. Getting acquainted with the current predicament of churches and theological schools in South
Korea, John urgently voiced a desperate need to reform theological education.
The demand of the present historical era is too great to overlook the inadequacy of theological education, thinking “it is beyond our ability to change it.” And the end time of God is approaching. So we must not function this way. I’ve seen many negative effects. Theological schools in North Korea must not be established like this. We must develop strong servants, make a climate in which students do theology with burning heart, facilitate academic rigor, and teach pastoral morality and social consciousness so that we may produce holistic pastor-shepherds. That’s what I am dreaming.
From John’s perspective, transforming theological education is a challenging task, but one that is too crucial to give up.
While appreciating their opportunity to experience the strengths and
weaknesses of churches and theological schools in South Korea, most of the consultants who mentioned their vision for theological education in North Korea stated that the churches and theological schools that will be established in North Korea should be different from those in
South Korea (John, Andrew, Philip, Priscilla, Esther, Naomi, Daniel, Tim, Thomas, Peter). John stated, “I have a strong philosophy that we must not transplant a South Korean theological school in North Korea as it is.” Philip asserted that what was to be established in North Korea should not be a “replica” of Korean churches and theological schools.
Findings indicate a few suggestions to improve theological education in
general, contextually specific issues relevant to theological education in North Korea, and issues of collaboration in establishing theological education and churches in North Korea.
General Concerns for Improvement
Consultants pointed to issues of admission, quality of professors, and holistic
formation in theological education as areas in need of improvement.
Admission of Students
Almost half of the consultants raised the issue of admission of students into
the theological school (Paul, Priscilla, John, Peter, Barnabas, Phoebe, Hannah, Tim).
“Select” a Small Number of Qualified Students
Consultants argued that theological schools should choose to admit students
who already have a clear sense of calling and are aware of and ready for what it takes to carry out the call to ministry. For instance, Phoebe—who throughout the interview had not made any critique but showed appreciation for and compliance with whatever experience she had in her theological school—yet signified the issue.
But when it comes to educating pastors, they [theological schools] need to choose those who have a certain sense of call to ministry and assurance of salvation. … As far as selecting those who will carry out the call or mission is concerned, we need to make a choice. We should select those whom we really need to grab, and train them only.
Priscilla understood that theological schools’ admittance of students who are
not qualified to be pastors is a partial cause of the phenomena in which Korean churches are becoming business-like organizations with pastors who lack character and function like CEOs. She said, “Those who aspire to be pastors must be really the kind of people who are ready to die for the Lord and to give up the best pleasure that they have in order to proclaim the Lord. We really have to choose this kind of people and build them up.” From the consultants’ point of view, while theological education should be transforming, a theological school is not a place where novice or immature Christians should come and, as a result of education, become mature Christians or pastors. Instead, it is for those who are called (Phoebe, Priscilla, Paul, Tim, Barnabas, John, Naomi). The point that these consultants were making should not, however, be understood as an argument opposed to those who criticize the current theological education model as a clerical paradigm that does not aim to foster theological reflective wisdom of all believers. Instead, consultants were thinking within the frame of this study, and focusing on educating pastors.
Consultants were concerned about the fact that pastoral vocation was
considered as a profession or one of various available paths to achieve success, fame, and material possessions (Paul, Tim, Priscilla, Hannah, Daniel). Both a lack of admission standards to filter out unprepared students and the existence of a great number of theological schools in Korea have contributed to an inundation of disqualified pastors without placement in the church (John, Priscilla, Phoebe, Hannah). John mentioned that the already full-grown size of theological schools and their established structures in Korea necessitated the admission of a large number of students to sustain the life of institutions.
“Prep Schools”
To resolve the aforementioned problem, consultants suggested the idea of
preparation schools in order to discern which students should be sent to theological schools. In the focus group, Barnabas shared the idea of a one-year preparation school, and other consultants in the focus group affirmed it.
I would like to open a one-year prep school because we believe that those who are well trained and recommended by the church should come to theological school. But theological schools are everywhere in Korea and compete for students. So, there are so many cases that students come without being examined—whether this person has a sense of mission, whether this person is well trained in character-wise in the church, whether this person has a sure conviction and confession of faith …
Barnabas pointed out that many current theological students entered theological schools without having their character, faith, gifts, or devotion confirmed by their local church. Barnabas stated that this prep school would train students for godliness and function as a means to search out students who could “continue this path of pastoral ministry and who consider ministry as a vocation and a mission not as an occupation.”
Similarly, Priscilla spoke of introducing theological education programs in the
church for congregations. Then, as interested students proceeded in the program, pastors and other congregation members would know whether they were called to ministry and qualified to pursue pastoral training.
Quality of Professors
While most of consultants were able to name some great professors who
impressed or influenced them in positive ways, they also envisioned having professors of a better quality in theological schools in North Korea. A couple of students mentioned about the inadequate academic quality of some of their professors and lectures (Andrew, Priscilla). However, consultants’ concerns were more about character and spirituality of professors than their academic competence. Mary, Daniel, Priscilla, and Tim commented on the worldliness of professors who were interested in money, fame, and power, just like anybody else in a capitalist society. They also mentioned professors’ lack of preparation and punctuality for class, and their emotional fluctuations reflected in lectures, grading, and interaction with students.
Instead of viewing it as a profession, Priscilla and Mary hoped that professors
in theological schools would be conscious of the meaning of their work and mission as “building the future of Korean churches.” Thinking about a theological school that she wants to build, Priscilla said,
Even though it may take a long time, I would like to appoint professors in a theological school, true professors one by one, not a kind of people who do it as a profession but the ones who can truly build the future of the Korean church. I would like to build up professors who, even if they lecture just one hour or ten minutes, students who hear the lecture may resolve to deny themselves and grasp the heart of the Lord.
In terms of spirituality, Daniel set a high standard for professors in theological
schools. He asserted that professors’ spirituality had to be better than that of pastors and that they should therefore engage more than students’ minds as they taught. If a professor taught about Paul and his conversion, Daniel said,
The overwhelming emotions and joy and everything should be delivered by professors and be embraced and felt by students through them. I don’t mean that the professors should be like actors or actresses. However, professors in theological schools should have this. If not so, they may still work as professors but they are inadequate to awaken and develop students to be servants of God. Since professors in theological schools are the ones who teach theology, and they are the professors in God’s campus, they should be superior to anyone in terms of spirituality and life. Also their life should be one that matches with their teaching.
Spiritual maturity and integrity in life were considered as indispensable qualities for professors in theological schools. Furthermore, such qualities should be demonstrated in their teaching so that students would be inspired and formed through them.
Another quality that consultants wished to see in professors in theological
education was an ability or amount of experience that would enable them to help students integrate academic knowledge with practice or to share practical wisdom gained from their own ministry with students. John said that he would like to have pastor-faculty for the theological school he was envisioning. John identified one of the problems that theological education in South Korea have is “professor-centered theology” and “professor-centered operation of the theological school.” He argued that this makes theological education become primarily about knowledge acquisition, because professors’ teaching “predominantly deals with debates among scholars” and the professors themselves are “filled with academic pride.”
However, true pastors, as John conceived them, should be “equipped with a
combination of burning heart with love of souls, academic competence, and understanding of contexts.” For him, educating such pastors would take place when professors would do as Jesus did with disciples, “mentoring, teaching, sharing their life, understanding the context of the people and of ministry in the field together, and showing the exercise of power.” The kind of education that John thus described would seem to require more than having pastorprofessors at the school, but would see professors and students in the field together. In Schön’s term, such professors are educators of reflective practitioners who construct situated knowledge (1983).
Holistic Formation
The findings indicate that consultants addressed the need for holistic
formation in theological education. The biggest concern that consultants raised related to the appropriateness of theological education in South Korea for educating pastors for North Korea. They wondered whether the kind of theological education they acquired in Korea would form the kind of pastors who would be able to enter into the lives of North Koreans. They also questioned whether the kind of theological schools they found in Korea could equip North Korean students with appropriate knowledge, skills, and character to minister to the people and deal with various issues and challenges that would exist in the context of North Korea in the future. Their points were congruent with those made by scholars who have researched professional education. Foster and his colleagues addressed the hybrid nature of theological education that aims to facilitate cognitive, performance, contextual, and normative formation (2006). Weidman and his colleagues indicated that graduate programs are a process of socialization of students into their chosen fields, disciplines, and institutions in terms of knowledge, skills, dispositions, and social webs (2006, 2-4). Consultants found a lack of integration or unbalanced stress on one or more particular area among cognitive formation, performance or competence formation, character and identity formation, and contextualization.
“Theology That Can Come Near To the People”
A couple of consultants used an identity phrase, saying that they wanted
theological schools to teach “theology that can come near the people” (John, Naomi). For John, this kind of theological education develops “field knowledge”— knowledge that is not separate from the field but gained from the field while ministering to people in context—and teaches social science disciplines to deepen students’ understanding of people and context.
As part of his argument, John stated,
I think we need true understanding of human beings, and such understanding requires a combination of both academic knowledge and field knowledge. […] In addition to theology, pastoral ministry, and homiletics, most theological students are lacking in understanding of the true object of their ministry. In reality, how many of theological students know stages of human development?
Naomi also pointed out that theological schools tend to neglect social science. These consultants’ comments resonate with Cole’s articulation of what it means to think theologically. For Cole (1989), thinking theologically means thinking biblically, historically, existentially or eschatologically, and philosophically or wisely. Cole elaborates that thinking theologically involves taking seriously arguments of Scripture as the revelation of the Word, being “sensitive” to historical witnesses of Christian thought about doctrines and exegeses, being “aware” of the pain and predicament of the people, and engaging in philosophical activity and praxis by asking important questions, seeing connections, and living Christianly (1989, 62).G
Some consultants brought up indigenous contextual issues that they believed pastors would face when involved in ministry in North Korea. For instance, they wondered how theological education could equip students to heal and counsel those who have been hurt and oppressed for several decades and suffered due to demons, and how it could prepare people to minister to those who have been involved in shamanistic religious practices (John, Phoebe, Paul, Priscilla, Jeremy). Jeremy stated that ministry in North Korea may require as much love and forgiveness as could cover the Pacific Ocean, but he wondered if the existing theological education aspired to facilitate such formation of students.
A Tie Between Church and Theological School
Some of the consultants, including Esther, addressed the tie between church
and theological school. Referring to one theological school’s motto, “Godliness and Learning,” Esther mentioned that many churches should be established in North Korea so that students can learn at school, practice and cultivate godliness while doing ministry in the church. Jeremy said, “I prefer to establish theological education programs within the church, not setting them separate.” He assumed that setting theological education close to or within the church would make programs more Bible-centered, rather than academiccentered, and also make students’ pastoral and character formation a central concern. This point resonates with the idea that theological education that is separated from the context of the church is in unavoidable danger of putting too much stress on “cognitive apprenticeship” while neglecting “normative,” “contextual,” and “identity” apprenticeship (Foster et al. 2006). Studies on theological education also point out the importance of the tie between church and theological education (Elliott 2010; Reed 1992; Cannell 2006). A close tie between church and academy was important to resolve the problem of the dichotomy between theory and practice and to maintain the vitality of both churches and theological schools through mutual support and edification.
Esther underscored an interesting characteristic of North Korean education: “As for North Korean education, theory is closely linked with practice.” Referring to the book, Educational History of North Korea (Lim 2010), she noted that, when it comes to establishing theological education in North Korea, North Koreans have their own teaching and learning methods. Esther’s understanding of North Korean educational policy is congruent with the literature on the topic discussed in chapter 2 (I. Kim 1979; Kim and Kim 2005). Esther believed that the existing atmosphere of the North Korean educational system should not be neglected, but used as a ground for establishing theological education in which theory and practice are integrated.
Normative and Character Formation
A majority of the consultants underscored the importance of character
formation and integrity in theological students and pastors. Their concern had to do with a normative aspect of theological education, acquiring values, ethics, dispositions, and understanding of pastoral identity (Foster et al. 2006; Weidman, Twale, and Stein 2001).
Consultants identified values and qualities that theological students should acquire such as humility, disinterest in money, self-sacrifice, integrity, social consciousness, awareness of the times, and mindfulness of responsibility before God and society. Several consultants (Phoebe, Hannah, Daniel, and Esther) appreciated their South Korean colleagues and professors who demonstrated such dispositions. However, a general consensus among the consultants indicated that theological institutions and churches in Korea fell short of providing positive influences, examples, and cultures in which such dispositions, values, and pastoral identities could form among theological students. Daniel repeatedly alluded to the university from which he graduated in North Korea. He explained that graduates of that school were truly shaped with the spirit and ethos that the school espoused for leaders, but theological schools in South Korea were not doing such a job.
Contextually Appropriate Theological Education
Consultants specified contextually specific issues relevant to envisioning
theological education more appropriate to the indigenous context of North Korea. Based on some remarks from the consultants, it should first be noted that the extent to which recent North Korean defector theological students and graduates had adjusted in theological schools and churches in South Korea should not be an exclusive standard by which theological educators draw conclusions about the appropriateness of theological education in South
Korea for North Koreans in their homeland. Phoebe explained,
In South Korea, we are just a few, mingled among many [South Koreans], an extreme minority. Having come here as just a small number, we cannot survive here if we do not conform to this people’s sentiments and cultures. So for us, we were able to catch up quickly.
Andrew made a similar point: “As for North Korean defector theological students, they have been thrown among many [South Koreans] like a dot here and there.” From Andrew and Phoebe’s perspectives, North Korean defectors are a numerical minority among the majority of South Koreans and a cultural minority within the mainstream South Korean culture, so it has not been a primary concern for theological educators as to whether South Korean culture, educational curriculum, and teaching and learning styles are appropriate to North Korean defectors or not. Rather, consultants were in a position where they had to be assimilated or adapt to the Korean culture and its educational system as quickly as possible.
Some North Korean defectors might have struggled more than others. Several consultants (Esther, Andrew, Priscilla, and Mary) mentioned a drop-out problem among North Korean defector theological students, but this phenomenon had not received serious attention because they were few. To some extent, it seems likely that the success or failure of North Korean defectors’ adaptation had been viewed as a matter of the individual defector’s ability, as Ryoo (2006) challenged. Consultants perceived, however, that when it comes to theological education in North Korea, the situation would be different because North Koreans would form the majority. For that reason, they held that issues arising from the historical, social, and cultural context of North Korea and the memories, sentiments, and concerns of North Korean people need to be taken into account.
Curriculum Structure and Course Design
Consultants commented on issues of curriculum related to both the contents
and the structure of curriculum in the theological school. For instance, Peter stated,
“Chapel and something like that, I will do it there [North Korea], too but I won’t take any of the curricula from here [South Korean theological schools].” John argued that cultural differences should be reflected in the curriculum, so the curriculum used in South Korean could not be used in North Korea without modification. He said, “Since culture is different and people’s conscious [or cognitive] structure is so much different, we cannot take it as it is.” Daniel said, “If we want to do education in North Korea, we should change entirely, beginning with the textbooks.”
Unfortunately, some issues were difficult to clearly conceptualize based on
their brief reflections or suggestions. This topic requires further study. Nevertheless, consultants’ words provided insights that outsiders are unlikely to capture without the assistance of insider testimonies.
We Want Schools to Teach the Bible Itself
Several consultants mentioned that they would prefer to establish Bible
colleges rather than seminaries because for seminaries, theology, not Scripture, is the main subject of study. Consultants argued that theological schools neglected to teach what is essential in curricula (John, Tim, Peter, Mary, Jeremy). Some were struck by the fact that they studied Scripture relatively little during their seminary years. For instance, Tim said critically that learning Scripture seemed to be considered peripheral in theological education.
One of the shocking and surprising things since I came to seminary was that it did not teach the Bible. While we are preparing to become pastors in seminary, we don’t have time to read the Bible and in fact we do not need to read the Bible. To make it simple for you, let me explain this way. Suppose you enter a college to be a math teacher in a high school. But your school does not teach math. What it teaches, instead, is “let’s study hard math,” “let’s praise math”—having learned just things like that, they go to high school to teach. What can they teach? … There are students who have not read the Bible from the first page to the last even once but become pastors. Pastors do not know the Bible. … Where can they learn the Bible if even the seminary does not teach it?
In Tim’s eyes, teaching at the seminary was like making propaganda about the Bible rather than engaging in teaching and learning the Bible itself, so students and even pastors lacked biblical literacy. John confessed, “I’ve been moved away from the real Word. Although I learned a lot about the Bible, I find myself ignorant of the Bible itself. I sensed it immediately when I went out to the ministry field.” Barnabas also commented, “They teach many peripheral things but not essential things. I wish that when theological schools are open in North Korea, we make it more Bible-centered. If the class is about Old Testament, they really teach God’s message that the Old Testament speaks and the flow of the Old Testament, things like that.” Some consultants mentioned that they might have gone out to the ministry field without knowing the Scriptures if they had not been trained and read the Scriptures many times in China.
Ambiguity and Fragmentation in the Curricular Structure
Consultants’ words were descriptive but their comments pointed to an issue
of curricular structures in theological schools. A few consultants delineated how they would organize curricula for theological schools in North Korea. Peter stated, “In the first year, just reading Scripture, which is a training that builds a biblical foundation, in the second year, studying the Old Testament, in the third year, studying the New Testament, and in the fourth year, studying systematic theology.” Similarly, Daniel also proposed.
As for systematic theology, and then subjects like Old Testament studies and New Testament studies, these kinds of courses, don’t finish them within one semester. They should be taught continually from the first year through graduating years. Such fundamental courses should be studied throughout. Then peripheral courses can be done within a semester or taking one more semester, or let it be completed in one year. When it comes to theological education, systematic theology, New Testament and Old Testament are basics, and they can’t be done within one semester.
He perceived the logic of curricular structures of theological educationas rather ambiguous and ineffective.
John expressed a sense of regret as he looked back on several years of theological education, feeling like he had not learned much. His impression was that the knowledge taught at the school was “fragmented” and learning was not integrated. The ways in which various courses of systematic theology and biblical studies were scattered and spread throughout the three-year seminary curriculum did not appear to consultants to have a logical sequence through which students’ learning grew deeper and integrated as curriculum unfolded.
In addition, consultants complained about introduction courses. Several
consultants mentioned that they did not like introduction classes. As they enter an introduction class (Introduction to Old Testament, for example), they expected to gain a clear sense of what the course is about in a big picture. They said that the came out with their minds confused and compartmentalized by various perspectives including liberal theology, names, and debates presented in the class. It was contrasted to the clear presentation that they experienced in North Korean classrooms.
Andrew, however, had a different perspective. While he was attending
theological school, he felt unsatisfied just like John. Yet, after he finished all the courses and was graduated, he described a feeling that everything had become held together like a
“mosaic.” Andrew realized that he had grown much more mature in terms of his “perspectives” and his ability to “discern.”
Compared with North Korean Curricular Structure
Some consultants commented on the lack of logical integration of curricular
structure in theological schools by contrasting it with colleges in North Korea. Daniel described his college curriculum in North Korea. It assigned sufficient hours—sometimes up to 500 or 600 hours—for the main subjects throughout the school years. Moreover, he said that in North Korea, it was up to the school to decide which subjects and courses students would need to learn in order to be or do what they were preparing to be or do. Therefore, Daniel explained, “There was no concept such as required courses and elective courses—one hundred percent are required courses. If the school judges that these things must be taught for this person to be developed as an officer, then those courses become required courses.” Concerning the outcome of the education, Daniel appreciated that by the end of the program students were equipped with knowledge and skills necessary to carry out their roles as officers with pride and loyalty to the country and humility to the people.
In contrast to the education he experienced in North Korea—which was
effective both in teaching the knowledge and skills students would need to carry out the roles they were preparing for, and in equipping with adequate identity and spirit—Daniel felt that the theological education curriculum was not doing an adequate job of developing leaders and “servants of God.” Tim also recalled that he began college in North Korea with little knowledge of electronics, but at the end of his college year he was able to design electric motors, transformers, and other electronic devices. By sharing the experience, Tim also pointed out that graduates from theological schools in South Korea seemed to be far less ready in terms of knowledge and practice than he was when he graduated from college in North Korea.
These data should not be generalized or interpreted to mean that one system is
superior to the other. Little is known about the higher education curriculum in North Korea, so it is difficult to understand these data accurately (Kim and Kim 2005). One possible understanding is that the North Korean regime controls what necessary knowledge is to be taught. The amount of knowledge is limited and also such knowledge is often related to propaganda, which requires convincing presentation. In addition, most higher education institutions in North Korea are specialized colleges rather than universities. Consultants’ educational experience in North Korea may have affected their perception of the logic and systematic organization of curricular structures and presentation of course materials.
The other is related to the significance of the data. Although it is difficult to
conceptualize what an appropriate curriculum design for the cognitive structure of North Koreans might look like, consultants’ perceptions are important because the curriculum structure has a formative influence on students. Nespor’s ethnographic studies illustrate this point well. His analyses of the curriculum structures of physics, management, and biology demonstrate how the basic dimensions of density, tightness, and interlocking of curriculum structure influence students’ learning (Nespor 1990). Nespor suggests that the curriculum structures experienced by students over time shape their identities related to the career they are preparing for, create a particular type of social ties, and construct particular ways of looking at reality and doing things (1990, 504). Curriculum structure influences students who spend a long period of time at school, not only in terms of acquisition of knowledge and skills but also in terms of the formation of identity, relationships, and particular ways of looking at reality or problems (Dykstra 2008, Foster et al. 2006; Weidman et al. 2001).
Teaching and Learning
Consultants recommended some of the ways of teaching and learning that
would be more appropriate for North Koreans.
Heuristic and Embodied Learning
The findings indicate that telling, indoctrinating, and compelling learners to
agree and act may not be a suitable way of teaching North Koreans. Consultants suggested that creating a learning experience or context in which North Koreans can naturally experience, learn, reason, and explore teaching and the reality that Christianity points to would be a more effective way of teaching them. Several consultants mentioned that there should be a distinction between ways of teaching those who have never been socialized into a religious culture and those who have grown up in a culture where religion is common. For instance, Mary stated that North Koreans, including defectors, have “entirely no awareness of religion,” so that educational programs in South Korean churches, which take it for granted that people have some sense of religion and a concept of God, would not be effective.
According to her illustration, for North Koreans, talking about religion and the existence of God makes little sense unless we let them experience it, just as we cannot explain salt to the blind who have never had salt before unless we let them taste it on their tongues. Mary suggested giving North Koreans time with patience and making an environment where they could be soaked in the truth are important. Otherwise, they would just pretend to know but never know truly. She was making a general statement about Christian education for North Korean defectors, but her point seemed to have relevance for theological education as a whole.
While some Korean churches, with their authoritarian, banking style
education, have created congregations who believe and follow instruction blindly (Tim, Thomas, Paul, Priscilla, John), consultants believed that another kind of authoritarian indoctrination and banking style education would not be effective for educating North Koreans. For instance, Tim argued that banking style education may be accepted by South Koreans but not by North Koreans.
However, I realized that as far as South Koreans are concerned, they may need some sort of indoctrination. It may be because they have lived so freely that they are rather more receptive to an authoritarian way. But North Koreans do not like indoctrination and they believe that to demonstrate, to convince and to lead is a superior way. That is a surely powerful way to draw people to follow. … North Koreans have just been awakened from a great fraudulence. At the bottom of the lie was indoctrination. “This is absolutely right. Don’t doubt. If you doubt, you will die.” So now they instinctively reject a banking style education. It does not matter whether it is right or not, you should not say just, “This is right. Believe!” but instead you have to unfold and show them.
“Unfold” and “show” were the key phrases to describe a learning process by which North Koreans might be convinced someday and willing to follow. For that reason, Tim was particularly interested in narratives to unfold truth in Scripture for North Koreans.
Similar to the idea of “unfolding,” Thomas suggested that North Koreans may
be more open or responsive to Christianity when it is approached philosophically or from a comparative religion perspective. Moreover, it will be more effective when it is taught alongside other academic disciplines in a “school context.” Thomas viewed the school context, rather than an overtly religious or compulsive atmosphere, as a more comfortable environment for North Koreans to get acquainted with Christianity. Andrew, Priscilla, and Philip also appreciated a teaching and learning process in South Korea in which diverse perspectives and theories were presented and unfolded in classes but the decision and evaluation of which perspective or theory was more truthful was left to the students.
Students Actively Engaging in and Taking Charge of Their Own Learning
John described his best learning experience as those that took place at the
mission home in China. That was a kind of learning experience he would like to see theological education in North Korea provide for students in the future.
His teaching method was so good. While he was teaching, he asked questions and he helped students to think. I remember it was about the second coming of Jesus. In the middle of teaching, he asked us why postmillennialism, premillennialism, and amillennialism become a contentious issue for contemporary people. He comfortably sat with us and led the class dialogically. He made us think. … Because he led class that way for 15 days, a kind of learning atmosphere was created. We asked why questions about an issue and we debated until four in the morning and sought truth together. It was that kind of active and learner-directed education. The theology that I learned then in that way still remains in me.
In contrast, John described his learning experience in his theological school in South Korea: “Here it [learning] tends to be passive. Professors come with PPT [PowerPoint presentations] made already, and teach. We just need to type on our laptop and are given no time to think.” Having had different leaning experiences, he preferred to introduce a teaching and learning process in which teaching is more “dialogical” and learners play a “central or directive” role and actively engage in their own learning.
Having noted the aforementioned suggestion, Naomi’s concern was also a
legitimate one to heed. She stated that most North Koreans are not accustomed to thinking creatively or engaging in self-directed learning so that when they were asked to choose their own topic for research, their minds went blank. Also, she considered North Korean students to be more sensitive to power and conscious about authority, in contrast to South Korean students who felt free to ask questions and challenge professors. Her point indicates that a radical transition to a different way of teaching and learning may be challenging for North Korean students. Various scaffolding mediums will be needed to support them in the process of the transition.
Indigenous Issues that Theological Education in North Korea Should Engage
Consultants raised a few issues with regard to the indigenous context of North Korea, all of which call for deliberation as far as doing theology and implementing theological education in North Korea are concerned.
Apologetics Through Juche Ideology
One of the issues presented by consultants pertained to Juche ideology. As
discussed earlier, some consultants indicated that replacing Kim Il Sung with the God of Christianity in the minds of the people would help them to understand a concept of God and believe, because the ideological system of Juche ideology and Kimilsungism resembled Christianity. Other consultants disagreed and argued that the resemblance rather triggered confusion. Whatever responses Juche ideology may evoke in the minds of North Koreans, consultants seemed to agree that they could not build another religion or a worldview system without giving sufficient attention to Juche, which had long functioned as a point of reference for North Koreans’ ways of thinking, living, making judgments, and looking at history and the world.
Daniel was especially interested in engaging a Christian apologetic by
comparing and contrasting Christianity with Juche ideology. He was convinced that because “Juche plagiarized Christian doctrines” and so “if a person from North Korea read the Scripture, the person could find Juche in there,” Juche ideology would be able to play a similar role for North Koreans as the Law did as a schoolmaster leading the Jews to Christ
(Gal 3:24). Here is an excerpt of his elaboration.
Juche idea recognizes that human beings are sinners but communists in North Korea do not call the problem of sin, sin. Instead, in their own expression, they say, “human beings are not perfect and every human being has shortcomings. Everyone has flaws.” So they have to solve that problem. In order to solve it, they conduct persistent socialist political education, revolution, and mutual self-criticism. Through those, people learn to hate and destroy things that they are supposed to hate. If not, they send some of them to a concentration camp if they violate the communist philosophy. And as the Party and political bureaucracy carry the task of remolding people to be true human beings through education, they said that the only way that they could accomplish the job is by letting people be directed by the Leader [Suryeong]. In that way, Suryeong becomes a god.
Other consultants also perceived interesting parallels between Christian formation and North Korea’s revolution of consciousness or human remolding program in which through persistent education, revolution, and punishment people were shaped into a new kind of people—communist revolutionaries whose minds and actions are thoroughly guided by the instructions of Suryeong.
Since the regime espoused only Kimilsungism and oppressed all other
religions, Joseph stated that the North Korean people have not developed understanding of God and his existence. For that purpose, Joseph wanted to find stories that explain the gospel in a way that North Koreans can easily understand. In other words, preparation of theological education as well as Christian education for North Korans includes searching or creating “experience-near discourses” to explain the concept of God to North Koreans (Priest 2006).
Foundational Knowledge
Consultants recognized that they has little foundation in liberal arts or social
science and suggested that theological education for North Koreans should offer courses that build foundational knowledge to support understanding of theology such as history and philosophy. The necessity lies in consultants’ recognition that a lack of foundational knowledge hinders deeper learning in theology, development of more open and mature perspectives, and meaningful relationships and communication with South Koreans (Tim, Priscilla, Joseph, Peter).
A couple of consultants suggested that one of the effective ways to teach North Koreans those disciplines is to start from what they already knew. For instance, world history would be taught by comparing what happened in the world in each period of time with what they learned happened in North Korea at the time, diachronically, since they have learned a history only related to communism and Juche (Esther, Thomas).
However, the necessity of learning history, philosophy, or other broader
disciplines may not be interpreted as only concerning North Korean defectors or North Koreans who need to acquire cultural literacy or cultural capital. As Cole (1989) suggests, learning to think theologically requires more than biblical literacy for everyone. Studying philosophy, history, and even psychology and other religions gives students foundations that enable them to understand the historical backgrounds of doctrines, debates, and biblical interpretations in particular times and places, to analyze cultures and existential human predicaments by looking into the deep concerns, pains, and hopes of the people, and to develop discernment and reflective wisdom in order to incorporate learning into their decisions and actions.
Developing a Biblical Theology: God’s Justice and a Blessing
Consultants also referred to the necessity of developing a biblical theology on
particular themes such as theodicy and God’s justice and blessings as understood in the
Scriptures. Consultants’ stories included their questions and struggles to make sense of
God’s justice, theodicy, and human suffering before they came to faith (Peter, Tim, Priscilla, Philip, Thomas, Phoebe). For instance, Thomas shared some questions that he wrestled with and believed other North Koreans would raise as well: “Why do we have to believe in God? How do we know he exists? If God exists, why has he forsaken only North Korea like that? If God exists, why does he leave dying North Korean people alone? If God exists, why does he let those who are rich continue to get richer whereas the poor continue to starve?”
The themes of God’s justice and human suffering were to some extent linked
with understandings of blessing. Consultants argued that theological reflection on these themes is critical not only in providing an interpretive grid for North Koreans to understand their experience of long suffering but also in building sincere faith in contrast to the faith that seeks material blessings. Priscilla was worried that the latter kind of faith, held by many South Korean Christians, might have a negative influence on North Korean Christians. For that reason, she considered developing a biblical theology of blessing to be significant both for restoring South Korean churches tainted by the prosperity gospel and for building up
North Korean Christians with sound faith, higher ethics, and sacrificial lifestyles. Moreover, if Christianity is delivered to North Koreans with a message that “if you cling to faith, you would get rich and earn much money”—which was partly the case in China—the outcome would be negative, as Thomas predicted. He said that North Koreans may end up in “confusion,” “violence,” and “hostility toward Christianity,” contesting that “we went to church and believed hard but why have I not earned much money; why have I gotten ill?”
There are, however, other voices. A few consultants mentioned that when
they were in China they heard that the poverty and famine in North Korea was divinelyordained. They alluded to similar discourses which claimed that North Korea’s famine was due to the fact that it had abandoned God, while prosperity in China—just across the border from North Korea—and wealth in South Korea were due to their acknowledgement of God’s existence (Priscilla, Peter, Tim). Sharon was informed that in South Korea economic development and the growth of Christianity took place simultaneously. In her opinion, telling such stories would help North Koreans come to faith by awaking them from the lies of the North Korean regime that explain poverty as a result of economic sanctions inflicted by South Korea and America, and challenging them to think about the plight in North Korea in contrast to the abundance in South Korea as a result of God’s working.
Building on the Rich Legacy of Faith Among Christians in the North
Several consultants traced faith heritages to early Korean church history, and
particularly to Christians who dwelt in the northern part of the Korean peninsula before the country was divided into two. They also addressed the existence—and future role in restoring churches—of underground church Christians in North Korea who have kept their faith pure (Jeremy, Priscilla, John, Paul, Esther). They pointed out that the origin of the main Presbyterian denominational school in South Korea was from the Pyongyang
Theological School, established in 1901. They were proud of great revivals such as the Wansan Great Awakening that had spread widely from the northern area to the whole county and ultimately caused Pyongyang (the capital city of North Korea) to be called “Jerusalem in the East.” In addition, they also recognized that the remarkable growth of South Korean churches after the Korean War was indebted to Christians who came down from the north in order to escape persecution.
Paul said that “in terms of theology,” he wanted to “keep the reformed
theology” that he learned from his theological school, but “in terms of faith,” he wanted to trace the “rich history of the Korean church, and the history of North Korean churches.” The faith heritage that he wanted to restore was characterized by martyrdom, an eschatological faith, and hope in life beyond here and now.
Pastoral Techniques: Indigenous Religious Practices,
Spiritual Battle, and Psychosocial Issues
Several consultants mentioned shamanistic religious practices (Paul, John, Priscilla, Daniel). Seeking fortune-tellers and believing in superstitions and people possessed by evil spirits were not uncommon in North Korea, whereas participation and practice of orthodox religions was prohibited by the regime. Consultants also anticipated that the spiritual battle in North Korea would be stronger than that in South Korea. They argued that theological students should be equipped to deal with these issues and therefore, professors who teach in theological schools in North Korea need to be spiritually much stronger.
In addition, many consultants stressed that theological education in North Korea should prepare students to take care of the wounds of North Koreans, most of whom suffer great psychological pains, distresses, and trauma (Priscilla, Phoebe, Naomi, Jeremy, John, Peter). For that reason, a few consultants were learning counseling in addition to their enrollment in the M.Div. program, acknowledging the great need for inner healing and counseling among the North Korean defectors to whom they were ministering. Another related issue was the breakdown of families in North Korea. Consultants described a situation in which family members separated and scattered to find food, some members were dead, defected, or were imprisoned, gender roles changed, and divorce rates increased
(Naomi, John, Phoebe, Barnabas).
Relationship and Trust
For the reasons mentioned above, consultants stressed that theological
education in North Korea should go beyond intellectual training to involve spiritual and character formation that would allow pastors to enter the lives of the people, understand their needs, heal their wounds, and demonstrate love (Priscilla, Phoebe, Naomi, John, Philip, Jeremy). Naomi stated that North Koreans who are preparing to be pastors must first experience “being loved by other people” so that they will “know how to love others.”
Ministry must be preceded by their own healing and formation through “relationship training” within a healthy “Christian community.” Otherwise, they would “hurt the people whom they want to serve.” Naomi explained why such training is needed,
North Koreans have deep love for their own people, but their character needs to mature. … They have strong defensive mechanisms in relationships because they had always received criticism throughout their lives in North Korea. In addition, even having come here, they again are experiencing discrimination because they are from North Korea.
Surveillance systems in North Korea made people suspicious of one another; criticisms were made against one another as an everyday practice; and injustice and wrongdoing was characteristic of the totalitarian regime. Consultants indicated that circumstances affected people in many ways and had an impact on their character, emotion, trust, and relationships with others. In addition, Naomi perceived that the cold social climate toward North Korean defectors in South Korea might strengthen their defense mechanisms as they interact with others and build relationships.
Esther’s personal testimony reflected Naomi’s perception. Esther said, “I
could have become a monster, if I had not come to seminary and not been transformed” referring to her judgmental and disparaging attitude and a sense of inferiority. She stated that in North Korea, people do not learn to “look after the needs of others” and care for others but “power is law.” It was while living in the dorm, sharing a room with other students in her theological school, attending chapel every morning, and doing ministry among South Koreans that she learned to “be happy in looking after others’ needs and seeing them happy.” Peter also shared that his character and servant leadership were formed when he was trained within a community in the mission home.
Lack of Trust and Openness Among Defector Students
Several consultants mentioned that some North Korean theological students
hid the fact that they were from North Korea and avoided contact with fellow defector students, even though their backgrounds were obvious to them (John, Jeremy, Naomi, Hannah, Esther). Even though they have a reason to hide it , this phenomenon signifies that the problem of distrust and lack of social capital may be prominent issues needing to be dealt with in the future. For instance, John pointed out,
An important issue is, we have around nine North Koreans here [in his seminary]. However, a good number of them are closed and unsociable. Even among ourselves, we don’t trust one another even though we all came from North Korea, and we are afraid to be honest and open. I think these are vestiges of the North Korean society. It seems they have fear, too. […] I think these kinds of issues are difficult tasks for us to overcome with sensitivity in order to realize Christian education in North Korea.
How to rebuild social trust will be a critical task for Christian leaders in North Korea.
A Sense of Entitlement or Emerging Gap
Another related concern that several consultants implied was a gap emerging between North Korean defector theological students and unbelieving North Korean defectors (Naomi, Hannah, Andrew). As Naomi described,
They [North Korean pastors of the future] need to come near in the lives of the people just as Jesus did, just be their neighbors and be able to share their lives with them so that they too could come near to them in turn. So, in some way, what is worrisome today is that those North Koreans who studied theology have some kind of a sense of entitlement and have a certain judgmental attitude toward non-Christian North Korean defectors.
Some consultants explained that the majority of North Korean defectors, especially the older people, remain unchanged, adhering to who they were in North Korea in a negative sense, whereas theological students and pastors—partly as a result of their education—become more educated, culturally adapted, and changed in terms of their perspectives and attitudes. If knowledge and competence acquired in such theological schools create a
sense of privilege or entitlement within theological students and create a wall between them and the people whom they will to serve, theological education of that kind will not be appropriate for North Koreans. However, a gap between defector students and pastors and the North Korean defectors who just arrived in South Korea may also be seen as something natural. The issue at stake is whether the gap separates them or allows the former to help the latter as peers or gurus who had an earlier opportunity to understand both cultures and the Christian faith.
Nonformal Theological Education Modeled by Jesus and Elijah
While recalling his experience of training in China and reflecting upon
theological education in South Korea, Andrew painted an image of a future theological education in North Korea as follows:
They need to be trained to have a martyr-like spirit, ready to risk their lives more than equipped with a depth of academic knowledge so that they can share the grace that is bursting out of their heart by their deep encounter with God all over the land of North Korea. The academic discipline dries us spiritually. It may be the case just for me, but I guess it is applied to all of us. Instead, we should create a setting where they can be touched and moved. I believe it is okay that a physical environment is not good. It is okay that a system or structure is not well built. But, it needs to be a school of prayer and a school of training, for instance, like the prophet school of Elijah and Elisha and ways in which Elisha’s students were trained. I wonder if that is what we need.
Andrew thought that in the future North Korea might eventually need a theological school like the ones in South Korea, but not in the beginning. From his perspective, what matters will be neither a good physical environment nor a well-structured system. He stated, “It is okay to be trained in the wilderness” as long as it can be a better environment to develop “grace-filled, martyr-like disciples” who will go anywhere to share the gospel.
Similarly, John did not equate theological education with buildings. Since
an institution or a system takes on a life of its own, he questioned whether radical change could take place in the existing system of theological schools in South Korea.
I think that it is already too difficult for South Korean churches. … They have gotten bigger and bigger. Since theological schools have already become large, they have facilities to maintain and have staffs whose living expenses depend on the school. So if the supply of student enrollments decreases, survival of all those staffs and many other things are closely interconnected to one another. Therefore, the structure of current theological schools demands matriculation of a certain number of students, unless the denomination is awakened and says, “we will completely minimize our school and produce true disciples” and carry out the plan step by step.
John said, “When it comes to establishing theological schools in North Korea, they think of buildings and sizes,” but “I would like to express the idea of ‘establishing a theological school’ in different terms, that is, ‘making disciples,’ ‘making disciples who live a life of shepherds.’” John then elaborated on the idea of “Jesus’ style of theological education” that he envisioned.
Another issue is the aggrandization of the theological school. If you attempt to produce products massively, it is not surprising that you will have more defective products. If I build a theological school, I would like to start Jesus’ style theological school. That is my dream. It’s because I don’t think Jesus, who was the Son of God, was lacking something so that he trained only twelve disciples. According to Rev. Bill Hybels, restoration of relationship takes place within one meter-distance. Just as Jesus mentored disciples directly, taught them through his life, understood the ministry context together, delegated power and authority and demonstrated to exercise it, I don’t think that a kind of theological education to develop true pastors can take place in the school that becomes bigger and bigger… maybe possible, but …
Andrew, Peter, and John were convinced that true theological education takes place not through “massive production” but in relationships or within a community of practice through apprenticeship and participation in practice.
Nevertheless, not all consultants were negative about the large size of
theological schools in South Korea. Some consultants took it for granted that there would be a similar model of theological school in North Korea (Phoebe, Joseph, Philip, Sharon). They believed that North Koreans need to learn advanced knowledge and the curriculum that is taught in South Korean theological schools.
Longer Years
Some consultant made comments about the length of theological education (Philip, Elisha, Andrew, Barnabas, Paul, Priscilla). They asserted that theological education demands a long period of education and so it is better to be started from the undergraduate level and continued through seminary. It was particularly true for North Koreans, as Priscilla stated, “I think that even those who were graduated from a college should be sent back from an undergraduate level of a theological school. So, we have to teach them ordinary academic disciplines and afterwards, we teach them theology.” For Priscilla, learning philosophy, history and other relevant academic disciplines help North Korean defectors to develop theological discernment about unorthodox doctrines. Other consultants stated that it takes time to establish their “own theological stand” and three years is not sufficient time
(Andrew, John, Philip).
Another reason that consultants recommended for a longer period of
theological education was for verification. Andrew stated that becoming Catholic priests
“requires almost twenty years of studying and training,” whereas there are many quick and “easy” ways to be ordained pastors in protestant churches. That a person has completed a course of theological education or pastoral training is supposed to attest to the person’s qualification and readiness for ministry (Andrew and Philip).
Priscilla anticipated that there would be a great and urgent need for pastors
if North Korean is open but she argued that theological education done in haste at the risk of producing unqualified pastors is something to be avoided. Andrew suggested that in order to supply pastors quickly to the field without compromising the quality of pastors, theological educators should educate them in several months or a couple of years, send them to the field, and then bring them back for further education.
Socialization into Denominational Differences and Difficulty in Cooperation
Consultants were conscious about differences and conflicts among
denominations in South Korea. They recognized that the issue of collaboration across denominations is critical in establishing theological schools and churches and carrying out evangelism and social work in North Korea in the future. However, consultants were also aware of theological differences emerging among themselves, which makes the collaboration more difficult.
Socialization into Theological and Political Stands of Their “Institutional Homes”
The consultants’ words indicated their socialization into their denomination’s
theological and even political stands—or, in other words, socialization into their “institutional homes.” Weidman et al. state, “It is important to recognize the graduate students experience socialization processes that reflect their chosen fields and disciplines as well as their institutional homes” (2001, 2). This also resonates with Lave and Wenger’s theory of learning through increasing participation in communities of practice in which learners adopt particular ways of thinking, practicing, and speaking the tacit cues and identities of the community.
There used to be a discourse arguing for a single united denomination to be
taken to North Korea so that North Korean churches would not suffer the divisions and conflicts between multiple denominations that are seen in Korean churches. However, North Korean defector theological students, as well as South Korean denomination leaders, no longer discuss the idea of one united denomination in North Korea (T. Lee 2010). They realized that this was a naïve, unrealistic idea. Interestingly, the anticipated difficulty of bringing one united denomination did not lie entirely in the state of South Korean churches, but also rests on the theological differences among North Korean theological students and pastors themselves. Since they were educated in different theological schools, their theological stands have become divergent.
Denominational Conflicts
For consultants, who had never experienced institutionalized churches before
coming to South Korea, the sight of multiple denominations was initially striking and hurtful (Philip, John, Priscilla, Esther, Thomas, Tim). Thomas stated that one of the most confusing things, while studying in a theological school as a new Christian, was the existence of multiple denominations and conflicts among them. He explained,
There are many denominations in Korea. They are not different Christianities. They are all Christianity but there are many denominations and among them exist conflicts. Observing what’s going among them caused much confusion.
He used to wrestle over how there could be more severe conflicts within the church than in society when the main teaching of Christianity was about love and acceptance.
Differences Emerged: Socialization into Distinctives of Theological Schools
Most of the consultants were attending one of two denominational theological
schools (seminary A and seminary B). Interestingly, consultants of both schools appreciated the choice of the school that they were attending, expressed their allegiance to the school’s theological stands, and were aware of how the other denominational school thought of their own.
For instance, Paul, who graduated from seminary A, stated,
The most thankful thing is that I went to [seminary A], not ____, ____, ____
[names of other denominational schools]. I didn’t know that this school
follows a reformed theological tradition nor that it is an evangelical school. The only reason that I chose the school is because this school was formerly Pyongyang Theological School, thinking, “Surely, I must go to a school that has the color of the Pyongyang Theological School.” Today, I am most grateful that God sent me to [seminary A]. Some say something like this, “[Seminary A] is a narrow-minded fool, it is conservative.” However, while doing ministry, I’ve come to realize that those words are said without knowing it truly. It is certainly not that their ways of thinking are closed. It will be the best asset in my life-long ministry to learn correctly in [seminary A] what Scripture teaches about the sovereignty of God, the inerrancy of Scripture, by God’s grace alone and by faith.
For consultants who graduated from seminary A, their stories often enveloped themes such as their gratitude for learning reformed theology, conviction about its correctness based on the Scriptures, discernment that they developed as a result of their education, and concern about heresies and liberal theology which exist in South Korea and may enter North Korea
(Priscilla, Paul, John).
For instance, Tim who graduated from seminary B described his first year
experience of seminary B as “pain itself.” He said that he wanted to give up and transfer to seminary A because the theology of seminary B, “so-called liberal theology” made him greatly troubled. Originally, Tim had a close relationship with influential leaders in seminary A, but an incident happened and his course has been changed. Tim said, “My line, then, has been fixed to this line [denomination B].” He entered seminary B and started getting financial and social support from denomination B. However, although he had struggled greatly because of the religious pluralism prevailing in his seminary, in the end
Time affirmed that his learning in seminary B was not “entirely in vain,” and in fact was
“beneficial” because he learned to have a “balanced perspective.” Concerning
denomination A, Tim said, “Since it stresses the absolute truth and the Word, its tendency is therefore found that … it makes a mistake of absolutizing and mystifying some of the religious practices.” While attending seminary B, he has seen changes in his ways of thinking, becoming more open and reasonable and less inclined to quick judgment and condemnation. Moreover, he stated he learned freedom to break superstitious, mystified traditions by engaging in rational thinking and his perspective has become “more balanced.” After making a similar statement, Andrew indicated that the denomination of seminary B had not gone through the denominational splits that the denomination of the seminary A had because the former is less exclusive and narrow than the latter.
On the contrary to consultants from seminary A, those who attended or
graduated from seminary B tended to appreciate the change that happened to them, particularly to their ways of thinking, which have become more open to diverse perspectives and inclusive. They tended to criticize the closeness and narrowness of those who belonged to the denomination of seminary A.
Allegiance to their own theological schools’ stands was demonstrated by
conflicts that arose when North Korean defector theological students and pastors gathered. Andrew mentioned, “When we go to retreat together, we sometimes happen to have conflicts since we go to different theological schools.” This phenomenon is in fact already hindering collaboration of North Korean defector ministers. In spite of his intention to begin more concrete preparation for theological education in North Korea with fellow North Korean defector theological students and pastors, Daniel found that the denominational distinctives they have internalized turned out to be a hindrance.
Issues to be thought through are mounting up and I really want to do this … but North Korean theological students, too, have not mingled well. … And Presbyterian seminary, Chongshin seminary, Baptist seminary, because of those denominations, since theology that each of them has learned is somewhat different from one another, because of pride, they cannot communicate well.
While consultants’ theological conviction is to be respected as a result of their critical reflection, another interpretation may be that consultants’ “being there” in their own theological institution had to do with changes that emerged among them (Carroll et al. 1997). In that sense, the distinctions and differences that appeared among consultants can be partly understood as their socialization into the theological perspectives or ethos of their theological school (Weidman et al. 2001; Foster et al. 2006; Carroll et al. 1997).
What Kind of Theology is Appropriate to be Introduced to North Korea?
Such differences were linked with real issues as they envision theological
education in North Korea. Some consultants were thinking about what theology they need to introduce in North Korea and how cooperation can be brought about in spite of theological differences. Priscilla, from seminary A stated her concern:
Even though they are different from us theologically, insofar as they are not heretics, we should cooperate. Since I learned conservative theology, not liberal theology … I think a lot about this. We should cooperate no matter what … cooperation among the churches, I really struggled. When a door to North Korea is open, aren’t all theological students entering, every denomination? … Since I graduated from [seminary A] and did undergraduate there too, I am convinced by the theology that teaches God’s sovereignty. I have to insist on this theology. This stubbornness is about the theology. I will cooperate in terms of doing mission and helping neighbors.
While adhering to the theology that she was convinced was right, Priscilla believed that mission and ministries of compassion should be carried out in a cooperative manner. Esther, from seminary B, recognized complexity in establishing theology in North Korea.
Of course, I don’t think that Barth’s theology is the only orthodox theology. It may have problems, too. The theology that will be established in North Korea has to be God’s theology, what theology can we take it there? You know, [seminary B] and [seminary A] fought and split because of this. Neo-orthodox theology and Westminster theology.
Philip, from seminary B, was convinced that ecumenical theology and Moltmann’s theology are the kind of theology that North Korea and South Korea should develop together. He said,
Korea is divided into South Korea and North Korea. That is why we need such theology, a theology that can unite us to be one. By doing this kind of theology, this small nation can be one and be healed. We should not do the kind of theology, which keeps splitting.
Moreover, by integrating the strengths of two schools, Tim suggested that he
would like to see theological education in North Korea be Bible-centered and adhering to absolute truth in accordance to seminary A without adopting its rigid way of thinking, and also to demonstrate what is at the core of seminary B on the other hand.
Philip’s case: Epistemology and Positionality
Philip’s case deserves further elaboration. As mentioned earlier, Philip
aligned himself with the theological distinctives of seminary B. It was interesting to
discover why he preferred the theology of seminary B to seminary A as the conversation went on. He stated,
You know there is discrimination in theology, those who were elected and those who were destined to be under wrath. There is a school that teaches the theology of predestination strangely. However, our [seminary B] is not like that. I love the theology that I learned in [seminary B]. I really think that my choice of this school was right.
In contrast to the judgmental attitude and exclusiveness he perceived in the theology of seminary A, Philip found the theology of seminary B to be more inclusive and conducive to dialogue.
What is interesting is … you know, I loved equality when I was in North Korea and I met that kind of theology since I came to [seminary B]. Then, of course, it is natural for me to fall in love with the theology here. They call it holistic theology [Tong-jeon Shinhak]. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I guess it is about embracing, making room for dialogue and attempting to meet and converse. This is really good. Don’t determine that this is our doctrine and try to judge and discriminate as if they are God, but leave the choice to God, and conserve the essence, which is, loving and trying to be light there in the world. How great it is! Why discriminate? Then, according to that discrimination, North Koreans all have to die. They are demons, evil, and in no need of dialogue and they are cursed. They should not do it. That kind of God, I cannot believe.
In the end, Philip’s preference was connected to his positionality, identity, and life experience (McCarthey and Moje 2002; Somers 1994). For Philip, Takacs’ argument that “one’s positionality can bias one’s epistemology” was correct in that Moltmann’s and Barth’s theology made room for him to embrace his people in their suffering and have hope for his father who had already passed away without knowing God (Takacs 2002, 169).
Theological distinctives and denominational conflicts have been a critical
issue uniquely for Christian churches. Elliott identified this as one of the crises faced by the Post-Soviet Union (2010). Although many denominations were doomed to close schools due to insufficient funds, they refused the option of merging with neighboring schools of different denominations, preferring closure to compromising their own theological or doctrinal distinctives. Elliott described that theological schools preferred closure, while to the eyes of unbelievers in society seeing schools merging and sharing resources might be a better Christian testimony than seeing many weak denominational schools close or struggle to survive alone (2010, 9).
In summary, without dismissing the importance of theology, for a better Christian witness, this issue of cooperation and unity demands much wisdom and the cultivation of a disposition for dialogue beyond denominational boundaries. Since knowledge is mediated, it is also important to facilitate critical awareness of how one’s positionality influences one’s epistemology, theological reflection, and interpretation (Takacs 2002).
Division of Progressivism and Conservatism
Furthermore, consultants perceived that the differences between two
denominational schools involve different mission strategies and political stands regarding North Korea. Their opposing perspectives in fact reflected the sharp division that has existed, and has even been growing, in Korean society between conservatives and progressives, particularly referring to their political stands concerning North Korea. For instance, in terms of mission strategy, Tim stated,
In our denomination [denomination of seminary B], we categorized strategies of North Korean mission into two. One is front door mission and the other is back door mission. Leaders on the top [in denomination B] strategically approach North Korean mission with such a big picture. The backdoor mission is like the activity that the missionary [who led the mission home] did, going secretly, meeting North Korean defectors in an underground place and teaching them. The front door mission is that they enter North Korea legally and meet directly with Chosun Christian Federation [an official Christian organization controlled by the North Korean regime] and operate mission by meeting, struggling, and dialoguing with them. So [denomination B] has chosen the front door mission strategy while [denomination A] does more of the back door mission.
Esther also mentioned that North Korean defectors from seminary A and seminary B were fighting over which strategy, front door or back door, was right. Some consultants recognized that these two different mission strategies are linked to a political-social phenomenon prevailing in the whole of Korean society (Andrew, Esther, Tim), representing a political progressive and a political conservative. Conflicts between these opposing viewpoints appear in various policies related to North Korea, in realms such as humanitarian aid, human rights, and denuclearization.
For instance, Andrew explained that most North Korean defectors are
politically and ideologically conservative by South Koreans’ standards because they suffered from the oppression of the North Korea’s totalitarian regime. Andrew himself used to be so, but since he had come to South Korea he had realized that “South Korea’s politics, ideology, and everything is connected to North Korea, either progressive or conservative, for or against the North Korean regime, everything revolves around this.” Moreover, he found this caused a division within the church as well. South Koreans with a progressive political stand could not be part of the community among North Korean defectors in the church since the latter
had a conservative stand. Taking this issue seriously, Andrew began to integrate a new perspective into his ministry context.
While studying theology, I started thinking about being inclusive. Excluding everything, drawing boundaries, things like these are not appropriate in doing theology and doing God’s work. I came to the conclusion that truth of the Scriptures can hold everything together and embrace and rule. The community of South Korean denominations is split into conservative and progressive. For instance, Christian Presbyterian denomination is progressive and so favorable to North Korea. That is why Rev. Han Sang Yeol went to North Korea and praised it. Hapdong denomination is conservative and so ….
Having adopted a more inclusive and open perspective, Andrew attempted to create an atmosphere in which politically progressive South Korean Christians and North Korean defectors could join and mingle together apart from their political stands in the community that he served. It seems that Andrew observed in South Korea what Shin (2006) referred to as a shallow sense of conservatism and progressivism within the nationalism of Korea.
Shin (2006) explained that several historical, contextual factors—including a
sharp confrontation between the Communist totalitarian regime in North Korea and the democratic but authoritarian regime in South Korea, and each regime’s use of the politica1ideological context for the consolidation of power and the legitimization of their rule— contributed to the development of a somewhat immature conservatism and progressivism in South Korea. Consultants’ words indicated that this sharp division between conservative and progressive has hindered unity or social integration among the people, causing divisions that extend beyond the political arena into the society at large, including churches, denominations, and theological schools.
Collaboration with South Korean Leaders
It was assumed that establishing churches and theological schools in North
Korea would be carried out collaboratively by both South Korean and North Korean Christian leaders, including defector theological students and graduates. Having participated in churches and communities of pastors in South Korea, consultants shared their reflections on their positioning within those relationships and on collaboration with South Korean leaders. Relevant insights gleaned from their reflections are presented below.
Motives and Attitudes Matter in Interactions that Look Asymmetrical
In the eyes of many consultants, South Korean churches’ ministry among North Korean defectors in China and South Korea in recent years demonstrated somewhat unequal distribution of power. Referring to the period prior to and after the March of Suffering—a time when North Korea’s food shortage was extreme, resulting in the migration of many defectors to China—Joseph said, “it was a great opportunity for South Korean
Christians” to share the gospel and develop Christian leaders among North Koreans, but “they did not redeem the opportunity well.” Joseph located the cause of failure in the attitude of missionaries toward defectors. He said that the South Korean churches’ mission had failed because the missionaries viewed North Koreans as “objects of almsgiving” and “objects of teaching because they knew little.” He continued that those South Korean leaders “exalted themselves too high and brought North Koreans too low,” even though these people were not “handicapped people mentally and educationally but they were just people who were in need of shelter and food.” He was referring to how defectors were treated in mission homes. Joseph suggested that although North Korean defectors had much to learn from them, the attitude of missionaries and leaders of South Korea should have reflected attitudes of those who are entrusted by God to serve and build up North Korean defectors.
Other consultants expressed discomfort as they noticed a lack of sincerity in
the kindness of South Korean churches (Mary, Philip, Elisha, Esther, Tim). In a sense, not all the interaction between South Koreans and North Koreans is governed by the heterogeneous principle rather than the homophily principle because they have different social networks, resources, and capital as well as different life backgrounds (Lin 2001). Such asymmetric interactions governed by the heterogeneous principle require more maturity and sensitivity toward one another. However, consultants’ comments indicated that those qualities were lacking.
To make their name great, they [South Korean leaders] need North Korean defectors, in order to make an event, they need North Korean defectors, in order for a mission organization to gain recognition and to raise support, and they need North Korean defectors. (Elisha; also Jeremy, Esther)
When a person gives out of a sincere heart, the person does not talk about it, but if one speaks so much about it [giving], it means that the person’s giving was not sincere. (Elisha)
Are those who bring newspaper reporters with them, when they visit a North Korean defector church for support and want to have their faces on the paper, truly pastors? (Esther)
They [South Korean Christians] embrace, hug, and act as if they were willing to give even their organs to [us] in the church, but such attitudes disappear completely outside the church in the world. (Hannah)
When they hire North Koreans as ministers, how they do is, they do it in order to attract North Korean defectors. Don’t be pretentious but … (Naomi)
Many Korean churches have competitively launched North Korean missions or North Korean defector ministries in the last decade. While the genuine love and support of some Christians and churches have blessed them, the consultants also indicated that the intentions of others had revolved around recognition, putting on airs and giving themselves credit.
There was an unintended outcome of giving without genuine love by some of
the South Korean Christians. A few consultants pointed out that it produced pretentious North Korean defectors who have learned how to speak and act like Christians and knew how to read one’s face and grasp a situation, and take advantage of non-genuine giving and serving. This reciprocal insincerity damaged healthy social capital between North Korean defectors and South Korean churches.
Unequal Resources
Consultants also recognized that they had an unequal amount of resources
when they thought about envisioning theological school in North Korea in collaboration with
Korean churches. For instance, while speaking about the conflicts among denominations, John said that it would be these South Korea church leaders, with power, traditions, and systems, who would build theological schools in North Korea. However, since he aspired for a renovation of theological education, he placed the burden of creating equal partnerships with them on himself, which implied much effort to develop himself.
Similarly, Tim recognized that Korean churches have power and systems, so
he could not but comply with them today, even if he did not agree with them. After critiquing the South Korean theological education system in which students earn degrees as if they were getting a license, hoping to be employed in a large corporation-like church, he added, “Nonetheless, I am here [within the theological school system], too. It’s because if I don’t graduate from this school and if I don’t get a degree, I cannot be a pastor since they [South Koreans] own all the systems.” “However,” he said, “I will do differently” in North
Korea in the future.
Consultants were conscious about the power, resources, and systems that South Korean churches already own and were aware of the influence that they would have in the process of establishing churches and theological schools in North Korea. However, the heart of their concern was not about asymmetrical resources and power between North Korea and South Korea but about the possibility that South Korean churches use the resources and influence to duplicate their own systems and cultures in North Korea.
Sentiment and Tiny Details Thwart Collaboration
In opposition to the tendency within Korean churches to separate North Korean defector communities from South Korean congregations, consultants shared their vision to plant churches where there would no longer be North Koreans and South Koreans but only Koreans together and where North Korean pastors and South Korean pastors would collaborate and work together (John, Paul, Jeremy, Priscilla, and Elisha).
However, collaboration is not an abstract idea. Some consultants were
already working with South Korean colleagues in Korean churches or other organizations.
Some of their experiences made it clear that there were real difficulties in working together.
In the focus group interview, a consultant who was ministering to a North Korean defector group in collaboration with South Korean pastors in her Korean church, said, “Collaboration is difficult. Even collaboration within the Association of North Korean Defector Ministers is hard. How much harder then can it be for South Korean ministers and North Korean ministers to work together?” Hearing her words, another consultant shared that good cooperation was taking place in her organization. Naomi said that if South Koreans and North Koreans could recognize each other’s strengths and weaknesses, get rid of prejudice, and ignore insignificant differences, they could cooperate for the sake of a bigger cause. However, Phoebe responded, “Speaking so is easy, but once you enter the situation, you realize that everything, including minute details and inner sentiments, is involved.” She explained that South Korean leaders could not understand some of the words, experiences, and sentiments of the North Korean defectors they were serving with her because their life background is so different. Conflicts in social interactions occur when sentiments are not shared and mutual positioning is not negotiated in a satisfying way. Their conversation between the opposing viewpoints about the possibility of cooperation continued for a while, but the issue was not one in which a solution reached in a discursive context could improve practice in the field.
Positive Sign
In spite of the difficulties perceived, several consultants shared positive signs
as well. Mingling, mutual understanding, and collaborating were taking place at a local level. The “rehearsing” of the unification of Korea or practice of how to live together were happening somewhat when deep mingling and working or living together exist in interactions between North Koreans and South Koreans (Esther, Paul, Priscilla, Andrew). For instance, referring to some of the South Korean members in the North Korean defector community in which he was serving, Andrew shared that they had been among North Korean defector members so long that one could not tell whether they were North Korean defectors or South Koreans. He used the expression “embedded in their body” to describe those South Korean members’ learning. In fact, he said that both South Korean members and North Korean defector members have come to know one another’s traits and learned how to communicate and interact with one another. Such learning was “embedded in their body” through a long period of encounter and interaction together, and this made it possible for the North Korean and the South Korean members in his community to be open and build good relationships with one another.
Based on the aforementioned ministry experience, Andrew affirmed the
possibility of good collaboration in ministering to North Koreans in the future.
If those South Korean members would go to North Korea when it is open, people [in North Korea] would not sense otherness much [in them] and would not sense a big gap between them. That won’t be strange because they practiced a lot. Likewise, with regard to theological schools and North Korea mission, the most important thing is to make people ready. And for people to be ready means for them to get to know North Koreans and get used to them through North Korean defectors.
When it comes to collaboration for establishing theological schools, Andrew’s comment was positive, as far as it is “with those South Koreans, who have been trained in this way, have studied about North Korea with such a heart, and have had much experience of encounter and interaction with North Korean defectors.” A pattern of collaboration or cooperation
between South Koreans and North Koreans in the future was understood as an extension of what they experience, partially, today in South Korea.
CHAPTER 7
CONCLUSIONS AND IMPLICATIONS
The purpose of this research was twofold. First, the research sought for an
in-depth understanding of the recent, unprecedented phenomenon in which the number of North Korean defectors residing among South Koreans has reached over twenty thousand, of whom around 120 are pursuing theological education to become pastors and Christian leaders. Learning experiences of North Korean defector theological students and graduates in the theological education context of theological schools and churches situated in South Korean society were examined in light of consultants’ cultural frames of reference, prior experiences, and social positioning and identity construction in South Korea. With an eye to the future, this research also sought to provide the theoretical underpinnings for envisioning and preparing theological education more appropriate to North Koreans and their contexts and for promoting thoughtful collaboration between North Korean (defector) ministers and South Korean churches. A descriptive-interpretive qualitative research method and some naturalistic inquiry postures were adopted for the research.
In this chapter, we will identify some of the main research findings and
discuss their significance, their connection to precedent literature, and their implications.
Finally, we will suggest areas for further research.
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Summary of Findings
Findings were summarized into six categories.
Cultural Difference
Consultants described North Korean culture as more collectivistic, more Confucian, and characterized by a larger power distance than South Korean culture. Some experienced culture shock when they arrived in China or South Korea. In their view, South Korean students and professors—and South Koreans in general—seem to demonstrate cultural traits of a more individualistic, small-power-distance, and capitalistic society. To cite just a few examples, consultants reported that South Koreans are competitive and pursue their individual interests before the interests of the group. Students ask questions and behave freely in front of teachers. Teachers do not necessarily sacrifice for students, but seem to consider their work as a job more than a vocation.
While consultants tried to learn South Korean culture, they did not perceive
that all cultural and ethical standards upheld and practiced by South Koreans are higher than those by North Koreans. They suggested that some of the collectivistic and Confucian values, cultural purity, and socialist ethics existing in North Korea deserve more respect and might even help South Koreans restore forgotten aspects of traditional cultural values. In contrast with their memories of the past, consultants were aware of the current situation in which social and ethical virtues of North Korea have begun to crumble because Juche has lost its validity as a lived worldview. Socioeconomic changes at the grassroots level have affected North Korean social structures, and the long-term plight of the North Korean people has hardened their hearts.
Ironically, consultants referred to a perplexing resemblance between the South Korean church and the North Korean sociocultural and political system, particularly in terms of their authoritarian, hierarchical, and involuntary culture and organizational practice. Consultants were particularly concerned about the authoritarian, compulsive-collectivistic culture of South Korean churches, in which pastors were highly honored by “lay” Christians, teaching and preaching were delivered in an authoritarian “banking” manner that encouraged blind devotion, and members were pressured to participate in numerous meetings and services.
Consultants also expressed ambivalence toward a collectivistic organizational
life. While they had delightful reminiscences of their communal life in North Korea and a desire for similar “belongingness” in South Korea, at the same time they felt a sense of weariness with and repugnance toward joining organizations that coerce collectivistic cultural behaviors.
Acculturation and Acquisition of Cultural Capital
For North Korean defector theological students and graduates who emigrated
after their worldviews had been framed to a large extent by the sociocultural, historical, and ideological context of North Korea, theological education in South Korea was partly a process of acculturation or accumulating cultural capital. By taking classes, experiencing classroom and campus cultures, and building relationships with South Korean students and professors, they learned South Korean culture as well as theology. Learning the South Korean accent, cultural codes, communication styles, and ways of thinking, relating, behaving, and learning had great significance for consultants. This type of learning was indispensable because it allowed them to build meaningful relationships, engage in mundane and professional conversations with South Koreans, gain opportunities to serve in South Korean churches, and mingle and do ministry with Korean pastoral staffs among Korean congregations. In all these ways, therefore, acculturation influenced the forms of participation and further learning experiences open to the North Korean defector students.
Much of the knowledge that consultants had acquired in North Korea was
invalid in South Korea because it was grounded in different ideological presuppositions. The facts, knowledge, beliefs, practices, and rituals that constituted the North Koreans’ worldview were fundamentally different from those that South Koreans took for granted. In theological school consultants found that they had to essentially “start from scratch” by, for example, acquiring foundational knowledge in liberal arts disciplines such as history and philosophy.
Consultants noted that their North Korean education and socio-cultural
context, grounded as it was on Marxist atheistic materialism and hostility to religion, especially Christianity, did not facilitate the formation of the meaning schemes that are fundamental for making sense of religion or a Christian theistic concept of God. Some consultants observed that understanding theology and developing theological discernment require, and are enriched by, a body of knowledge in disciplines such as history, philosophy, religion, and psychology, all of which they found missing in their own backgrounds.
Centripetal Movement Impeded in a Community of Practice
Learning experiences of the consultants were congruent in various aspects
with how learning was understood by Lave and Wenger (1991). Consultants’ theological education extended beyond the four walls of the classroom or theological school; it was situated in the sociocultural context of various communities of practice. Learning was mediated through social and institutional discourses and stories, as well as through direct and indirect social interactions with colleagues and professors in theological schools, coworkers and pastoral staff in churches, congregation members, North Korean defector ministers, and even non-Christian critics of the South Korean church. Consultants viewed theological education as a process of becoming pastors. By sharing their desire to learn by serving in a range of departments in the church and mingling with South Korean pastoral staff and congregations, consultants demonstrated their awareness of the fact that learning to become pastors necessitates more than engaging in inauthentic activities or gaining decontextualized knowledge in classrooms. Rather, it has to do with gaining access to a community of practice and experiencing various changing forms of participation in practice within it (Lave and Wenger 1991).
Findings indicated that various factors, however, have affected or impeded
consultants’ learning opportunities to practice in the ministry field and serve in diverse positions in South Korean churches. One such factor was the socio-historical context of South Korean churches, where the number of pastors and seminary graduates looking for pastoral jobs far exceeds the number of available positions for graduates, whether South Korean or North Korean. Another factor was churches’ competition for numerical growth.
Ministry fields resembled a competitive market in the larger South Korean society, and North Korean defectors in general are prejudicially positioned as less competitive and competent than their South Korean peers. Political, ideological, and socioeconomic stereotypes and condescending social perceptions of North Korean defectors further contribute to the marginalization of, and discrimination against, North Korean defector theological students and graduates.
Consultants unanimously addressed the difficulty of finding internships and
ministry placements in Korean churches. They reported that South Koreans who held power due to their place within the system did not take the initiative to make positions available or yield leadership opportunities to North Korean defector theological students and graduates. Furthermore, consultants were made more conscious of their location in society by the fact that despite their diverse ministry goals beyond serving North Korean defectors, most of the positions available to them involved North Korean missions or ministry to North Korean defector communities extracted from South Korean congregations.
It can be said, then, that consultants’ learning experiences were affected by
admission/denial of access to communities of practice. Their social positioning affected their learning by limiting their participation to certain forms and degrees. In this respect, consultants consciously or unconsciously engaged in negotiation and reconstruction of identity. However, as Wenger states, “a very peripheral form of participation may turn out to be central to one’s identity” (1998, 155). It seems that whatever “trajectories” consultants were on—whether “peripheral,” “inbound,” “insider,” “boundary,” or “outbound”—and wherever they were located on those trajectories, consultants’ unique life histories and learning were forming significant identities as they pursued their ministry vocations (Wenger 1998, 155).
Counter-Stories: Negotiation and Construction of Identities
Consultants were aware of how North Korean defectors are collectively
perceived by others in South Korean society, and they experienced these preconceived notions in churches and to a lesser degree in theological schools. Stereotypes and suspicions about North Korean defectors were varied, and concerned their academic and cultural competence, personality traits, effectiveness, socioeconomic status, and ideology.
Consultants were able to tell counter-stories that enabled them to contest or
resist negative positioning and unwanted connotations tied to their identity as “North Korean defectors” and imposed on them by others. Their repertoire of counter-stories covered a wide range of themes, including the homogenous ethnicity of the one Korean people, the historical significance of their presence among South Koreans as a rehearsal for reunification, and their own calling by God for special purposes. The third theme includes several subthemes, as consultants suggested that God had called North Korean defectors to systematically prepare to restore churches in North Korea, to testify to the sufferings of North Koreans, to purify and awaken South Korean churches, and to carry out the last and most difficult mission of world evangelism. These themes demonstrate multiple subject positions with which consultants constructed their identities.
By performing identity work through narrative, acquiring cultural and
symbolic capital, and proving their effectiveness and competence, consultants reconstructed more meaningful and desirable identities as North Korean defectors in general and North Korean defector theological students and pastors in particular. Consultants were conscious of their role in reconstructing images for North Korean defectors who come after them, and some saw their interview with the researcher as a site of negotiation and construction of positioning and identity.
Consultants constructed their identities and made sense of their lives, first by
aligning their life stories with biblical narratives, locating the events of their lives in stories of God’s providence, sovereignty, and deliverance. Their identity had content of “social purpose”: they were called and sent to prepare for reunification and acquire the structured learning needed for the future restoration of churches in North Korea (Abdelal et al. 2006, 9). These stories empowered consultants to take pride in being North Korean defectors at this particular time rather than being ashamed of their “designated identity” (Sfard and Prusak 2005, 18).
Consultants further constructed their identities by distancing themselves from
certain subject positions and seeking to be identified with other subject positions (Søreide 2006). On the one hand, consultants used their stories to distance themselves from subject positions such as pastors or theological students who considered their vocation as a means of gaining fame and wealth, lacked spiritual and moral integrity, lacked social and historical consciousness before God and society, or failed to shepherd a church faithfully with solid Scriptural teaching and a willingness to pay the cost of discipleship. Consultants were resolved to become a different kind of pastor, and they engaged in constant reflection about what kind of pastors they were becoming. On the other hand, consultants desired to be identified with other subject positions such as persecuted Christians in underground churches who would dare to go to unreached places for mission, or watchmen who would warn and awaken Christians who were spirituality numbed by the material abundance of Korean churches.
Consultants’ stories about their conviction for reunification, vision for a
united church in a unified Korea, and anticipation of reunion with families and neighbors in their homeland motivated them to live their lives in an answerable way. They feared becoming too comfortable and wanted to remember the sufferings of people in North Korea. The consultants also tried to serve as bridging persons by understanding the cultures and sentiments of both South Koreans and North Koreans, learning to act effectively in both cultures, and helping others to do likewise. Ultimately, the stories that consultants told were not mere stories, but their identities. These stories had power to give meaning and purpose to their lives, govern their everyday existence, and shape who they were becoming.
Appropriateness of South Korean Theological Education for North Korea
The findings of this study were to some extent congruent with the finding of
Shamgunow’s study of theological schools in post-communist countries in Central Asia (2009, 275). In both cases, the central educational concern relates less to specific cultural appropriateness than to curriculum integration, holistic formation, and professors’ qualification to bridge and integrate the academy, church, and society.
Consultants did, however, stress that North Korean theological education must
prepare students to address and meet the needs that would arise in the indigenous context of North Korea. According to consultants, such needs are likely to include counseling the wounded, recovering social trust or facilitating reconciliation, praying for healing, addressing shamanistic traditional religious practice, fighting strong spiritual battles, , engaging in Christian apologetics about Juche, injustice, poverty, and suffering, and explaining the existence of God to people who had not been religiously socialized into high religions other than the personality cult of Kim Il Sung. However, consultants connected these issues to more fundamental concerns about developing competence to understand contexts and minister to people where they are and about relationships between theory and practice and academy, church, and society.
While some consultants felt that the seemingly fragmented pieces of learning
they acquired in theological school were eventually integrated and found that their theological education allowed them to develop discernment and gain better and broader perspectives, other consultants expressed disappointment. From their perspective, seminary curricula lacked the logical structures that would enable effective learning, class material and knowledge was fragmented, and spiritual formation was carried out in a ritualistic and formalistic manner. They suggested that changes in teaching styles and course and curriculum organization are needed in order to help both North Korean and South Korean students grow in overall competence in the cognitive, contextual, practical, spiritual, and formative dimensions of theological education.
A Different Model of Theological Education
Many consultants came to South Korea to obtain more structured learning. Yet, while they appreciated many things about their learning experience, they also identified weaknesses. Some questioned the effectiveness of mega-sized theological schools in developing qualified leaders for churches. A few consultants found that their experience of nonformal theological education in mission homes in China provided a prototype for theological education patterned after Jesus’ disciple-making and the training of prophetic circles in Scripture. Half of the consultants experienced their first theological education in a wilderness-like setting that granted no degrees and lacked well-established facilities and equipment such as libraries, classrooms, and laptops. Learning took place in the context of a small community experiencing unpredictable and life-threatening predicaments. Consultants described this education as integrative and transformative rather than informational, and reported that they grew in spiritual fervor, Christian commitment, and character formation even as their biblical and theological knowledge and intellectual rigor increased during this time. In the mission home setting, getting trained meant being sent off to minister to other North Koreans at the risk of their lives. Theological education was certainly not a pathway to success, settlement, or security in an established church.
As they envisioned future theological education in North Korea, some
consultants expressed the expectation that South Korean churches and leaders would play a dominant role in building churches and schools in North Korea because they have the resources, power, and systems to do so. The consultants believed this would likely lead to the replication in North Korea of the existing system of South Korean theological education and the ethos and culture of Korean churches. Consultants were concerned that the materialism, secularization, authoritarianism, and individualism they saw influencing South Korean churches and Christians might affect North Korean churches and Christians. Consultants hoped to restore the unique faith heritage of Christians in early Korean church history, a heritage that underground churches in North Korea may have preserved. Korean Christians experienced severe trials and persecutions under the Chosun dynasty when they faced a Confucian society hostile to Christianity, under Japanese rule and its imposition of Shinto adoration, and under communism’s attempts to eradicate Christians. In those circumstances, Christians cultivated a faith that yearns for a life beyond here and now, does not fear martyrdom, and longs for the second coming of Christ.
Educational Implications
The following discussion focuses on educational implications of the findings
in this study. It is also an invitation for leaders in theological education in Korea to learn collaboratively in order to improve theological education in South Korea where now North Korean defectors are part of the fabric and to envision and prepare for theological education more appropriate for North Koreans in the future.
Teaching Authentically and Transformatively
North Korean defector theological students had high expectations for leaders,
especially professors in theological schools. Theological educators were expected to be experts in their subject, evidence maturity in character, be spiritually strong, demonstrate integrity in life, teach students sacrificially, and be conscious of their historical and social responsibilities before God and people. One consultant mentioned that even if professors in theological schools teach a class only once or just for ten minutes, this must be a transformative experience for students. It seems consultants want professors to be “teachers” in a traditional sense in Korea, albeit without losing their humility and mutual respect that some South Korean professors demonstrated for students as co-learners.
What do we mean by “being a teacher in a traditional sense”? According to Hofstede and associates (2010), there are differences between the large-power-distance culture and the small-power-distance culture in terms of the educational process and view of teachers. In the former culture, the educational process is “highly personalized” in a sense that the students’ learning is vastly dependent on the quality of their teachers (2010, 69). Knowledge that is transmitted to the students is not impersonal facts or truths that exist detached from the teacher but rather is wisdom that is inseparable from the teacher’s personhood and life (2010, 69). Teachers are respected in and outside school (2010, 70). Having grown up in a large-power-distance culture and learned the importance of leaders in a hard way, consultants hoped to see integrity from professors in that their knowledge, competence and functions as teachers and leader are integrated in their identities, values and norms.
However, if there should be improvement in quality of theological educators,
it would not be just for North Koreans or those who live in the large-power-distance situation. Cranton, Palmer, and Foster likely writing from a small-power-distance culture also have paid attention to the importance of being an “authentic” teacher, teaching with “heart and soul” (Palmer 2003), and aligning “integrity and identity” (Foster 2008). Formation of identity and integrity in students and integration of the curricula are of critical importance in theological education (Foster 2008; Foster et al. 2006). We argue then that such formation and integration are first and foremost influenced by theological educators. Furthermore, Scripture affirms that leaders and teachers should “set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity” (1 Tim 4:12) and be able to say to students in confidence and humility, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor 11:1). How then can theological educators be an authentic teacher from an educational perspective?
Self-Understanding
Cranton and Carusetta have suggested findings of their research on authentic
teaching (2004). They seem to have relevance for theological educators in South Korea as well. First of all, theological educators should understand who they are, specifically what multiple factors and forces have intersected and have constituted who they are now. These factors include their genes, upbringings, the culture of their family and society, educational background, events and individuals that led them to their vocation, achievements, and failures (Palmer 2007, 13). Theological educators also have to see how they have integrated those factors and forces together to have wholeness in their lives or if they remain fragmented (Palmer 2007, 13). Palmer suggest that good teachers are the ones who are capable of weaving “a complex web of connections among themselves, their subjects, and their students so that students can learn to weave a world for themselves” (2007, 11).
Understanding Students and Relationships
Such self-awareness in terms of their identity and integrity has to be joined
with their understanding of students, the nature of relationships between themselves and students and among others, the contexts, and critical reflection on the aforementioned categories (Cranton and Carusetta 2004, 13). Understanding students means different things for different educators. Theological educators have to ponder and discern to what levels they need to get to know students in order to help them learn better. This may imply that they need to understand (North Korean defector) students’ prior experiences, different levels of readiness for theological disciplines and other subjects, learning styles, and present concerns as well as academic needs (2004, 13). In seeking to understand and interact with students, it is important to note that educators should be very conscious about how they exercise power over the students. Cranton states that power is so pervasive in an educational process that it is a naïve idea that teachers can yield their institutional power in order to make a democratic learning environment (2006, 109).
With regard to understanding relationships, it is to be noted that building
social trust is important not only in relationships between teachers and students but also in an entire social atmosphere of the theological school. This is more relevant when it comes to theological education for North Koreans who grew up in a communal and collectivistic culture that values relationships and community. It is also important because without recovering weakened social capital among North Koreans and between North Koreans and South Koreans, there will be little chance that transformational learning will take place through education. Gordon underlined that any effort for educational reform or improvement in areas—for instance, curriculum, teacher’s professional development, and pedagogy— cannot be fruitful without social trust built among webs of relationships within and outside school (2002). This statement has a critical implication for theological education improvement in South Korea as well. Without recovery or strengthening of social trust among faculty, stakeholders, administrators, students, and denominational leaders, any effort or voice for re-envisioning theological education may be futile.
Understanding Contexts
Thirdly, theological educators should be aware of how contexts-- including the
nature of their subject, ethos of their academic department, expectations of the institution, and a physical, social and psychological environment of the classroom and the theological school-- affect themselves and others (e.g., students, faculty members, and administrators). They also need to know how those contexts influence ways in which they teach and relate to students (Cranton and Carusetta 2004, 17). For instance, a classroom—including the seminary classroom—is a “particular context” that shapes a “particular way” of learning that stresses “cognitive mastery of concepts and knowledge” (Brelsford 2008, 7; Foster et al. 2006, 7), instead of learning that engages the whole person. It demands an intentional effort to make learning in the classroom more than cognitive—reflective, affective, relational, or volitional. Educators have suggested using art, music, poems, pictures, stories, and cultural artifacts to make learning more holistic and engaging even in the given context of classrooms
(Dirkx 2001; Sutherland and Crowther 2008, 214; Palmer 2003; O’Sullivan and et al. 2002). Another example of the educational implication of the contexts is that theological educators should ask a question if theology, its nature has room to welcome “admirational” or affirmative reflection than critical reflection and analytic learning, and, if so, how they can incorporate it in theological education (Leclercq 1982). With a necessary adjustment in the curriculum design to make room for students to engage in such reflection, physical environments of seminary such as places for solitude or prayer walks, or various programs that allow students to be away from campus and home (e.g., personal or communal retreats, wilderness trips, and mission trips) may facilitate different kinds of learning that classroom learning may not facilitate.
Critical Reflection
In order to comprehend meaning of understanding all the above, Cranton and Carusetta suggest that educators need to critically reflect on each of those categories, self, others, relationships and context (2004, 13). Most often, educators’ teaching styles, methods, views of students, and ways of being a teacher are a result of socialization, which have been uncritically assimilated and adopted. Vella rightly points out, “we teach the way we have been taught until we stop long enough to examine how we are teaching and decide to do otherwise” (2008, xv). This kind of reflective praxis that teachers model can help students to become more reflective about what they are becoming and how they are developing integrity in their life. It will also be a way of making theological education a more integrative learning experience for students.
Facilitating Transformative Learning
We affirm that theological educators need to be skillful lecturers delivering
clearly instrumental knowledge to students. It is essential to understand the Christian doctrines and learn how to exegete Scripture, prepare sermons, and lead small groups and sessions. Such learning can also be a basis for transformative learning (Cranton 2006). Nevertheless, in addition to instrumental or communicative learning, North Korean defector students should experience transformative or emancipatory learning. They need learning that helps them reflect their old frame of reference assimilated in the past and develops skills and knowledge to reintegrate their Christian worldview into their role and guide their actions.
For instance, some consultants experienced an epistemic perspective
transformation in that they had to change some of their assumptions about the nature of knowledge and the knower, assumptions that were uncritically assimilated in North Korea. New epistemic assumptions that they had to reintegrate into their learning styles were what follows: there can be more than one right answer, one truth, or one perspective; there are things that cannot be defined as absolutely right or absolutely wrong; they are coconstructors of knowledge (in a “derivative” sense instead of in an “original” sense), not just recipients of knowledge from experts (Bahnsen 1998); and they have autonomy to explore diverse perspectives, examine assumptions of themselves and others, and generate or make a decision of their own meanings, values, purposes, or beliefs that would guide their action until they find meaning schemes or perspectives that are more true and validated (Mezirow 2000, 8).
For consultants in this study, their perspective transformation happened as
they had been immersed into a different culture, including different ways thinking, teaching and learning process, and communication among South Koreans. For some, it was a reflective process in which they became aware of differences, realized they had assimilated uncritically certain ways of thinking and doing in North Korea, intentionally acquired new skills, and integrated them into their lives. For others, it was more like unreflective assimilative learning (K. Park 2002; Temple 1999; Taylor 1994). What roles could theological educators have played or can they play in the process of transformative learning of defector students? How can theological educators be more intentional about their role of fostering transformative learning?
To begin with, it is helpful to be able to name different roles that they can play
as teachers. Broadening their understanding of what teaching means and a range of roles that teachers play to facilitate students’ learning enables educators to develop themselves professionally beyond being good instructors, communicators and experts in certain subjects. Educators are also “resource persons,” facilitators, designer of learning community or learning culture, mentors, models, knowledge constructors, co-learners with students, and
“provocateurs” (Cranton 2006, 101-111).
As another way to facilitate transformative learning, would it be helpful to
explain Bloom’s taxonomy (1969), Perry’s epistemological development (1999), stages of reflective judgment by King and Kitchener (1994), or personal epistemology by Hofer and Schommer-Aikins (Hofer and Pintrich 2002; Schommer-Aikins 2002)? It is an individual educator’s decision but I believe it may help some students. It is because discovering that there are different levels and ways of knowing can be an eye-opening experience for them. Terminologies that describe stages of epistemological development may create new “subjective plausibility” about knowing and learning in minds of students and they may be challenged to emulate higher levels of thinking and learning (Priest 2006).
For others students, teachers can provide more detailed feedback on their
papers about their ways of thinking and arguments with empowering affirming tones. Furthermore, instead of doing lecture for the whole class hour, theological educators can leave room for rational or affective reflection. They can model how to engage critical reflection. They can do so by sharing their own reflections of how their identity, positioning and experience have affected their making sense of certain texts or events. They can also ask reflective and open questions in order to help students to assess assumptions of themselves and others.
Theological educators can also facilitate transformative learning of students
by cultivating a learning community or an environment in which all participants can feel comfortable and supported in their journey of learning and transformative learning. To assign a group project or give time for small group discussion are not sufficient. Educators should model first how to facilitate a rational discourse and how to cultivate a trusting social milieu for collaborative learning. It can be done by defining ground rules such as being attentive, respectful and empathetic in listening, being open to diverse perspectives, having “tolerance” for differences and ambiguity, and developing how to learn collaboratively (Brookfield and Preskill 1999, 22-23). In addition, educators need to be conscious about ramifications of their seemingly insignificant actions such as eye contact with students and moving to another topic or person without expressing any affirmation or appreciation to the student who made a comment (Cranton 2006).
Role of Korean Churches in Developing National Leaders of North Korea
The present study clearly indicates that the most valuable resources that South Korean churches can and should share with North Korean defector theological students and pastors are the churches themselves. Sharing material resources is a necessary but secondary contribution. Beyond theological education through formal schooling, North Korean defector theological students and graduates should have access to learning through various forms of participation in a range of practices in congregations and within and across communities of practice. Foster supports this claim by stating, “One does not become a leader until one begins to lead. Neither efficacy nor integrity in one’s leadership is transparent until one assumes pastoral … roles and responsibilities” (2008, 467). Moreover, Dykstra explains that pastoral imagination—a particular way of perceiving, understanding, relating, and acting as a pastor—is cultivated when theological students or pastors are “with their people [congregation]” in ministry, engaging with “who they are, how they are living, and what they together are doing as a body of Christ” (2008, 30).
While it is commendable that South Korean churches have been generous in
sending money and people to mission fields and building and supporting churches, there is one thing that they have been lacking. It is a lack of awareness of their role in developing good leaders for the body of Christ. Society celebrates when a person from a less privileged socio-economic class rises to the top. With strong will and self-discipline, they built strong curriculum vitae with proper education, qualifications, and experiences and manage to climb to the top leadership position. Do churches think differently than society’s individualistic perspective on leader development?
Korean congregations should grow in understanding of their communal
identity and meaning of their life and ministry as a redeemed body of Christ in the world. Importantly, this includes that they grasp their “generative role in theological education,” which is their responsibility for and contribution to developing leaders for the church. They should no longer see themselves as “the ultimate beneficiaries of a remote seminary process” (Hopewell 1984, 67). To carrying out the role means more than hiring prominent theological students and letting them serve in an educational department with a smaller amount of honorarium than paid to ordained pastors. It takes the whole South Korean Christian community to develop true Christians and national leaders among North Korean defectors. It will be difficult for around 50,000 South Korean churches to avoid blame for short-sightedness or immaturity, if they for any reason could not pay attention to 120 or at most a couple of hundred North Korean defector theological students and graduates and support their growth as leaders, by allowing them to move through legitimate peripheral participation toward their desirable form of participation in the life of congregations and within a community of practice consisting of pastors.
Praxis in Communities of Practice as an Alternative to “From Theory to Practice”
What is the nature or content of the learning experience that theological
students in general as well as North Korean defector students should have by participation in practice?
A dichotomy between theory and practice and a large distance between the
seminary and the church have both been identified as critical problems in theological education. They were perceived by consultants in this study as well. These issues are inseparable from students’ holistic formation and readiness for ministry. Therefore, theological educators have sought for ways to bridge the gap. Field education, internships, and extra-curricular opportunities are offered as contexts in which they can apply what they have learned to practice and they discover how others have integrated knowledge, skills, values, and identity in their ministry contexts.
Against the backdrop, a current development of understanding “the
significance of the context itself” and learning as a situated activity (inseparable from the context in which it takes place) sheds fresh light on the aforementioned issue (Brelsford 2008, 7; Lave and Wenger 1991; Brown et al. 1989). If theological education should empower students to engage in faithful improvisation of Scripture in action in the complex life and context of congregations and society (Vanhoozer 2005), theological educators should
become better at making “intentional and intelligent use of specific contexts as sites of learning and as teaching and learning experiences in and of themselves” (Brelsford 2008, 8). Although there are various sites of learning and such a wise use of contexts can happen in multiple forms (Strawn 2008), what follows is one example in that we discuss the nature of learning and ways of facilitating such learning in the context of congregations.
Use of Context, a Congregation
Korean churches utilize theological students and allow them to serve as
leaders in various positions such as children’s director, youth director, young adult director, praise team leader, choir conductor, and co-pastor supporting administration, nurturing program, and preaching duties. This does not always, however, indicate that churches are intentional in giving them apprenticeship or mentoring or that senior pastors would be conscious about formation and growth of theological students as prospective pastors. The role of theological educators is to support senior pastors and other church leaders to facilitate learning of theological students who participate in ministry practices in their churches. Secondly, theological educators need to help students make the best use of congregations and their ministry context as “learning curricula” (Lave and Wenger 1991).
Congregations as Learning Curricula
According to Hopewell, congregation is defined as “a group that possesses a
special name and recognized members who assemble regularly to celebrate a more universally practiced worship but who communicate with each other sufficiently to develop intrinsic patterns of conduct, outlook, and story” (1984, 14). Congregations have their own cultures, stories, practices, traditions, and physical and social settings and theologies. While they bear the name as a faith community or a worshiping community of God, they are not perfect embodiments of the Christian doctrines. They are influenced and shaped by values of larger society (Dykstra 1987). Congregations are in a way “microcosms” of human society, embodying sins and problems of society and affected by culture of society (Hopewell 1988). In that sense, studying congregations as “learning curricula” for theological education helps students prepare for understanding, analyzing and dealing with concerns and problems in a larger context in which congregations are located. Moreover, it can be one of the ways that theological educators cultivate “pastoral imagination” and implement a “congregational paradigm” of theological education (Dykstra 2008; Foster et al.
2006; Hopewell 1984).
Ammerman’s handbook (1988) will help theological educators and students
understand what it means to study congregations and how it can be conducted. Ammerman provides a long list of things that leaders should understand about congregations as follows: the congregation’s particular unfolding stories, traditions, physical, financial and human resources, interactions among members, the larger community in which the congregation is located, particular practices, events, and ways of doing things, its demographics, and theologies that they practice and espouse (Ammerman 1988, 168-189). To understand congregations it is necessary for pastors to understand what God is doing in their midst, discern what particular calling and mission the congregation has in the particular time and place, and improvise faithfully the particular congregation’s story according to God’s bigger story of the redemptive people (Ammerman 1988, 176; Vanhozer 2005).
Learning as Praxis
If we choose to use Schön’s words, the ministry experience for theological
students has to be a “reflective practicum” coached by mentors who can guide students on the spot, “in the context of the student’s doing” (1987a, 102; 1987b). The knowledge and skills required for ministry in a congregation is similar to the type of knowledge and skills held by expert practitioners. It represents “accumulated experience” or “embodied expertise” that resides in ongoing practices, skills, ways of thinking, conversations, and interactions (Wenger, McDermott, and Snyder 2002, 8-9). Schön contrasts this kind of knowledge gained through “reflection-in-action” with “schooling knowledge” which has resulted in “the splits between teaching and doing, school and life, research and practice” (1987b). They cannot be taught effectively by verbal instruction alone but must be learned to learn in a tacit way and through praxis, “reflection-in-action” (Schön 1987b).
This is an example based on Schön of what interaction between mentors and
students may look like when learning happens through coaching within a community of practice between the mentor and the theological students. Mentors or coaches should be able to describe clearly and in detail, focusing on the specific problem that they decide to work on together. They also have to be able to particularize their ways of description and demonstration according to the specific problem and the particular student whom they work with (Schön, 1987b). Then students have to follow the instructions and enact them before the coach. The student’s performance indicates how they have understood the coach’s demonstration and descriptions. The student’s performance itself is a kind of dialogue,
“dialogue of actions,” communicating, “This is what I made of what you have said” (Schön, 1987b). Ways in which students reflected and acted on what coaches have described and demonstrated may bring a surprise to the coach and stimulate his reflection-in-action again. In responding to the student’s performance, the coach may provide an explanation in a different way, critique, or ask questions. In this process, the coach is “thinking loud” and revealing their ways of thinking to students (Schön, 1987a; 1987b). It is important to note that the coach’s response should be constructive and empowering. This helps the student not to become defensive (Schön, 1987b). The on-going interaction between the coach and the student is “a dialogue of reciprocal reflection-in-action” (Schön, 1987b). This should enable both of them to see problems from a new perspective and help students solve the specific problem that they worked on together and empower them to be a “reflective practitioner” (Schön 1987a; 1987b).
When it comes to theological education, this kind of learning process can be
used to develop functional knowledge and technical skills necessary for pastoral ministry. However, more importantly, ethics, pastoral dispositions, spiritual formation and theological inquiries can be learned while they are engaged in practice through this reciprocal reflectionin-action process with mentors.
In Need of Mature Old-Timers
In order to promote learning through participation of North Korean defector
students in a community of practice, Korean churches need “mature old-timers”/mentors/ peers. Conflicts and tensions exist within the community of practice not only because power and the dynamics of positioning are always present in social interactions but also because newcomers bring their own viewpoints, cultures, and experiences into the community. As North Korean defector theological students and graduates enter Korean churches, they come as novices, bringing with them their experiences and new ideas, cultural baggage of differing viewpoints and practices, and questions about existing points of view and practices.
What is exciting is that such different, naïve perspectives and questions of
novices can bring about a renewal of the existing community. Although learning through participation is similar to a process of socialization, which generates continuity, a sound community cannot ignore necessity of discontinuity and transformation as it continues to reform itself. Lave and Wenger hint that such changes can take place when the “naïve involvement” of newcomers invites “reflection on ongoing activity” in the community of practice; the old-timers and peers in the community welcome the newcomers’ “occasional contribution” and take it seriously (1991, 117). Holland also recognizes that transformation can be triggered by one’s improvisational acts, which are performed neither out of one’s cultural frame of reference nor out of self-consciousness of social location. Consultants’ stories in this study demonstrated what Lave and Wenger and Holland described. Their naïve involvement sometimes challenged conventional ways of doing certain activities and resulted in conflicts.
South Korean leaders in the church and theological educators should act as
mature old-timers and mentors who recognize newcomers’ limitations but also value and make constructive use of newcomers’ “inexperience” and “naïve perspectives and questions” (Lave and Wenger 1991, 117). If South Korean leaders equip themselves with humility and wisdom to invite the naïve, fresh, or different insights of North Korean defector theological students and pastors into the community and allow their insights to facilitate critical reflection on conventional practices, this may bring about faithful changes in Korean churches or theological schools.
Opportunity for a Renewal or Innovation of Theological Education in the Future
Many have questioned the reliability of the current model of theological
education. Some suggested alternative models or paradigms with the goal of solving longunresolved issues; it appears that attempts at radical change have failed to take root successfully or spread widely (Reed 1992, 1-2; Young 1998, Wheeler 1991; Cannell 2006; Hough and Cobb 1985; Farley 1983; Farley 1988; Kelsey 1993; Banks 1999). Especially after communism collapsed, many observers perceived an unprecedented opportunity for theological education in Russia and Eastern Europe (Bohn 1997). However, the opportunity was thwarted in spite of the rush of Western funds and resources. Numerous theological schools based on North American and German models of theological education were established with little consideration for contextual, historical, and cultural appropriateness, a problem exacerbated by the designers’ failure to consider the ramifications of the emerging configuration of collaboration and accountability between indigenous leaders and Western stakeholders (Charter 1998; 1997; Bohn 1997; Elliott 1995; 1998; 2010).
Recent research reports on the crises currently facing theological schools in
post-communist countries suggest that: (1) student enrollment has decreased due to the large number of seminaries, waning church growth, difficulty of finding placement in the church, uncertainty of finding fulltime pastoral work, and recognition of ministry as a low-paying vocation; (2) well-established residential seminaries funded by the West are wasted because fulltime student enrollment has dramatically decreased since the earlier period when students flooded to seminaries; (3) the quality of graduates from theological schools is still not trusted by local churches because of the gap between church and academy; and (4) many schools are doomed to close because funds from outside are diminishing and indigenous churches cannot afford to sponsor them (Elliott 2010).
These stories must challenge churches and theological schools in South Korea,
which may face a similar unprecedented opportunity for a renewal or an innovation of theological education. What follows are discussions and educational implications with regard to envisioning future theological education in North Korea.
Rethinking the Schooling Model
Drucker claimed, “Thirty years from now the big university campus will be
relics. Universities won’t survive. It’s as large a change as when we first got the printed book”
(unpublished interview cited by Lenzner and Johnson 1997). Responding to Drucker’s provocative statement, Friedman and his associates argued that universities, “teaching organizations,” should be transformed into “learning organizations” (Friedman et al. 2005, 31). Constantly changing environments propelled by a knowledge economy, globalization, technological innovation, shifting demographics, and competition, demand a paradigm shift from contemporary organizations. Learning organization literature stresses that in order to succeed in the aforementioned contemporary context, organizations should grow in their capacity to constantly learn and adopt flexibility to transform themselves based on their learning, for a desired goal or future (Argyris 1996; Marsick and Watkins 1999; Garvin 1993; Senge 2006).
Learning organization literature has been applied to schools as well. Senge
argues that the modern “one-size-fits-all” schooling system was modeled after the industrial factory assembly line and based on the machine metaphor for the world (Senge et al. 2000, 29-32). This implies that the educational system reflects the characteristics of the industrial factory assembly line as follows: (1) the school is a fragmented system walled around separate teachers, administrators, and students and separated from the larger context of society; (2) knowledge is fragmented by nature; (3) what is taught by experts in the school represents authoritative truth; and (4) learning is individualistic and enhanced by competition (Senge et al 2000, 43-49). In contrast, the contemporary world is increasingly characterized by connectedness, networking, flexibility, and decentralized, diffused flatness rather than specialization, hierarchy, and rigidity (Burns 2002, 12). It shapes and is shaped by a different paradigm, a different organization structure, a different communication style, a different understanding of knowledge, and a different kind of leadership. This is not to say, however, that we need to envision an alternative paradigm of theological education just because the world is changing.
Kelsey (1992, 13-14) asked, “If institutional reality could be remade to heart’s
desire, what would the ideal theological school look like?” When North Korean defector ministers, South Korean theological educators and church leaders think about preparing theological education in North Korea in the future, they have to reconsider the equitableness of the schooling paradigm of theological education. In comparison with the aforementioned assumptions of the modern organizations, it is difficult to deny that theological schools in South Korea also reflect common descriptors or problems of modern organizations such as fragmentation, specialization, division of labor, individualism, competition, and centralized hierarchical management. The leaders of theological education in South Korea must then grapple with this question, “What is theological about a theological school?” (Banks 1999, 15). They also need to ask if the large residential theological school model provides an optimal context that facilitates holistic formation of pastors.
Moving Forward with Scripture
However, to provide an alternative model is not always easy. For instance,
based on their mission home experience, some consultants in this study suggested to model theological schools after Jesus discipling and prophet training in the Scriptures. What lies at the heart of the consultants’ experiences of non-traditional forms of theological education in China were more congruent with Banks’ preliminary discovery of patterns in ministry formation among scattered examples throughout the Old and the New Testament (1981). These are the common components that Banks found (1981, 92).
(1) The main purpose of associating with a key figure was to collaborate in the active service of God
(2) Associates of this figure attended or accompanied him, in some cases living with or near him
(3) This involved a permanent or temporary break with their normal relationships and surroundings
(4) Learning occurred in diverse settings through participant observation, nonformal discussion, action-reflection, and direct instruction.
The community aspect will be particularly important for North Korean theological education.
Cranton states, “It is only through relationships with others that authenticity can be fostered” (2004, 8). Are other elements also applicable for contemporary theological education in general or appropriate for North Korean theological education? Theological educators in Korea have to grapple with how they can move “forward with the Bible” rather than “back to the Bible” (Banks 1999, 81).
Nonformal Education
As another example, the nonformal education model has been perceived as an
alternative to the formal schooling model. It can narrow the gap between seminary and church and theory and practice, and provide training for leaders with more “contextualized” and “flexible” curriculum without removing them from their ministry context (Elliott 2010, 20). However, they also have limitations and risks. Elliott (2010) illustrated risks of nonformal education: (1) it requires of students “self-discipline,” “motivation,” and “ability for independent study” more than in formal education, which causes “low retention rates”; (2) it is difficult for students to build personal interaction with professors and colleagues; (3) and degrees that nonformal education offers may not be recognizable as highly as those of formal schools. (2011, 20-22). Taking into account the socio-cultural context of North Korea and issues of social positioning and power between South Korea and North Korea, all three of those risks are not insignificant or easy to overcome.
An Initial Step: Collaborative Learning and Dialogue for a “Shared Vision”
If there are obstacles to applying existing alternative models to the North Korean context, and new models or ideas for significant change in theological education are not yet forthcoming, what steps can theological educators take toward the transformation of theological education in the future? An initial step may be to discover how to learn collaboratively and how to communicate and engage in dialogue with mutual respect. Dialogue and collaborative learning are essential if a theological school is to learn at an organizational level, implement changes, reflect, and continue to transform. Schön (1987a) shared an example in which a group of faculty members in a higher educational institution achieved a radical curriculum renovation through listening to one another, doing reflection- in action, defining and reflecting the problem collaboratively, and engaging in constant dialogue. Although learning may shed more light on problems than on practically feasible remedies, the capacity of collaborative learning and praxis, and trusting social climate developed in the process are assets and a first step that may lead to faithful renovation and radical innovation.
When it comes to envisioning theological education in North Korea, leaders in
theological education should start dialoguing and building a “shared vision” for the goals and outcomes of theological education (Senge 2006, 10). They should create a “culture” of learning and collaboration among faculty members, administrators, stakeholders, and students. At the same time, they need to establish “infrastructures” to facilitate communication, a flow of information and resources, and collaborative learning among them and also among church, school, and society (Senge 2006). For instance, to establish a learning culture and an infrastructure that supports it, schools can make a humble beginning by creating friendly “message boards” through which information flows in multiple directions (Friedman et al. 2005). The board can serve a research or teaching
“matchmaking” role so that faculty members from different disciplines may find interest for collaborative research in the areas in which their expertise intersects (Friedman et al. 2005).
This may be a small beginning to build a more integrative curriculum across disciplines.
Another example is creating a website which can be a channel for
communication between the theological school and the public. It will foster communication and mutual learning between them. Useful resources, information, research findings and relevant links should be shared in public to enrich local churches and support continuing education for pastors (Friedman et al. 2005). Also, it should allow local church pastors and society to suggest vital issues for theological schools to engage in theological reflection and inquiry.
Collaborative learning of theological educators in South Korea should involve
learning from past experiences and from Scripture and engaging in critical reflection on their “assumptions” about the existing theological education. It should also involve learning from churches and theological schools in South America, Africa and other parts of the world, allowing these communities to share and enrich their understanding of doing theology, educating pastors, and being God’s church in the world. Examining the movement of globalizing and internationalizing theological education may be beneficial in developing a form of theological education more appropriate for a Korean context that increasingly includes North Korean defectors and multiethnic peoples as part of the fabric. In addition, educators need to understand how globalization and digital revolution have impacted people’s ways of learning and connecting, and discern the educational and theological appropriateness of the implications.
Holistic Formation through the Seminary Curriculum
Theological educators should integrate normative and identity formation into
the overall curriculum of theological education. In this study the curriculum of theological education refers to more than the arrangement of subject matters and “repositories of knowledge” taught within the school (Nespor 1990, 504). Foster states that the curriculum in theological schools should serve as a map for an “integrative journey for students” (2008, 457). He elaborates:
The curriculum maps an integrative journey for students. As students move from novices in the journey toward the expertise required for the roles and responsibilities of the clergy, they engage increasingly complex integrative challenges—in the interplay of course work, field education and the community life of the seminary. When this happens, courses do not function as academic silos. Supervised learning in clinical and field settings is not isolated from academic learning. Questions about professional identity and integrity in professional practice are not left up to ordaining bodies. Instead, their interdependence is persistently highlighted.
One of the greatest challenges faced by theological education is that of helping students on this journey to integrate and align their knowledge and skills with Christian commitment, moral integrity, and identity so that the outcome will be evident when they carry out pastoral responsibilities and relate to people (Sullivan 2006, 6; Foster 2008, 2). Foster and associates (2006) found four pedagogies that were present in theological schools as follows: (1) pedagogy of “interpretation” of “sacred texts”; (2) pedagogy of “formation of pastoral identities, dispositions, and values”; (3) pedagogy of “contextualization,” “understanding of the complex social, political, personal, and congregational conditions that surround them”; and (4) pedagogy of “performance” and the “skills of preacher, counselor, liturgist, and leader through which they exercise their pastoral responsibilities” (Foster et al. 2006; Sullivan 2005, xi-xii;). These “pedagogies” are useful to provide accountability for theological educators to contribute to students’ holistic formation by their teaching.
Assumptions about Knowing and Learning
For integrative theological education, theological educators should ask what
epistemological assumptions underlie their classroom teaching and learning process, student assessment, the context of learning, the current academic divisions of theological disciplines, and relationships between faculty and students. To illustrates this point, for instance, Farley’s study, which he calls a historical “archeology” of the theological school and the structure of theological studies, shows that the four disciplines in theology (biblical, systematic, historical, and practical theology) are not intrinsic categories in the nature of theological study (1983, 33). Rather they were historically constructed in order to accommodate the placement and teaching of theology in the university (Farley 1983; Cannell 2006). As a result, specialization rather than integration of the curriculum is a byproduct of participation in the culture of academic and professional education in the modern era (Farley 1983; 1988; Cannell 2006).
It is always challenging to provide an alternative much more than to critique and analyze a problem. However, different schools and theological educators attempted to improve integration across disciplines and tried to be creative to support students who often struggle to pull what appears to be compartmentalized together. One professor shared that in his theological school, professors often co-teach classes. One example given by him was teaching the Gospel of Mark (from New Testament studies) with discipleship training
(practical theology).
Theological educators need to be intentional about how to facilitate learning
more than “cognitive mastery” by asking this question in every semester or every class, “What would my teaching of today’s subject look like if I take seriously the Hebraic notion of knowing?” If knowledge “springs from whole-hearted as well as whole-minded engagement with reality,” leading to “a whole-willed response” (Banks 1999, 74, 78), this may imply that theological educators design one or two learning tasks in addition to their preparation for lecture (Vella 2000). In addition, when they introduce and teach theological disciplines to North Korean theological students and help them build what they are lacking, for instance, historical and philosophical foundations, theological educators need to consider how they can make their experience of learning those classic subjects in a more engaging, meaningful, and relevant way than in a “detached,” “dispassionate” way (Banks 1999, 74).
For example, they can give students a learning task to describe how contemporary North Koreans ask the old question of inerrancy of Scripture in a different way.
Use of Social Sciences in Theological Education
Another way to make theological education more integrative and appropriate
to the indigenous context of North Korea is to make use of human science disciplines to exegete the sociocultural contexts of the people (Wells 1993, 17). The complexity of the contemporary world and the issues that people bring to the church have made it difficult for theological students and pastors to translate what they learn philosophically and academically into concepts and languages that ordinary people can easily grasp and yet be deeply challenged and transformed. For this reason, some argue that theology must carry on a conversation with anthropology, sociology, history, religious studies, and other social sciences (Priest 2006, 195; Wells 1993, 17).
For instance, North Korean defector students are thinking about how to
unfold and narrate the concept of the existence of God to North Koreans who have not been religiously socialized. Cultural anthropology may give students tools and skills to create theological discourses with “experience-near,” “context-sensitive” concepts and vocabularies for those to whom they minister, instead of using or translating “acontextual” philosophical and theological jargon and concepts. “Experience-near” discourses refer to discourses that “capture” or “correspond to the lived experience” of the people (Priest 2006, 189, 195). When the gospel is shared by using such discourses, theological concepts and realities can be easily understood by people because they correspond with their “subjective plausibility” in the minds of the people (Priest 2006).
Importance of a Faithful Christian Community
Developing a Christian worldview is of greater importance for future Christian and theological education because North Koreans suffer and will suffer a worldview vacuum since Juche ideology is no longer plausible. A worldview is internalized when people’s subjective reality corresponds with the objective reality that they experience in their daily life and in mundane conversations (Berger and Luckmann 1966). In order for worldview transformation to take place, there should be a “resocialization” process that is similar to the primary socialization process (Berger and Luckmann 1966). For that reason, when it comes to evangelizing and discipling North Korean defectors and North Koreans in the future, it is critical that South Korean churches and Christians should be a faithful community that the gospel and Christian ethics are embodied.
Park states, “evangelism and mission are practicable and feasible only when
there is a community whose life reflects authentic differences from the rest of the world, in particular with regard to power, Mammon, and violence” (2012, 62). However, he argues that Korean churches in the present have become “too worldly allowing the secular and materialistic spirit of the age to penetrate deeply their life and ministry” (2012, 62). In the past, Christianity in Korea played a significant role to uphold the moral and spiritual norms and provide an alternative community for many people who were in the state of physical, social and emotional dislocation in the period of radical change when industrialization, modernization and urbanization took place in South Korea (Park 2012, 60). Yet, it lost its counter-cultural transforming power and identity as being a city on the hill. Whether we are thinking about the church, Christian university, or theological school, it is time for Korean Christians collectively and individually to give deep thoughts on their ways and seek to restore a community in which Christian faith and doctrines are not only “externalized” through words and explicit teaching but also “objectified” through rituals, practices, artifacts, infrastructures, interactions, and cultures, and lived out by the members in their mundane lives so that they can be internalized as a plausible structure in the consciousness of North
Koreans (Berger and Luckmann 1966; Berger 1966).
Christian Schools or Universities
Consultants’ concern for fundamental knowledge and preference of a natural
context in which North Koreans can learn about Christianity and the need to develop Christian national leaders across various sectors of society in North Korea in the future evoke the idea of Christian schools. Christian universities are intended to develop a Christian worldview among students, teach subjects in integration with Christian worldview, and cultivate a social atmosphere and culture that embody Christian values.
Christian universities can also prevent students from making an immature or
uninformed hasty decision to pursue a vocational ministry. One of the difficulties that postcommunist countries experienced was that numerous theological schools had been built resulting in a competition for recruiting students. In that process, admission standards have become obscure and as a result, seminaries admitted students who were not ready. One seminary leader in Russia described that some students (Elliott 2010, 3).
(1) are too young to fully absorb instruction;
(2) are too inexperienced to apply their learning;
(3) lack a clear call to ministry and lack direction in their lives;
(4) require elementary discipleship;
(5) lack vital connections with home churches;
(6) are less concerned with an education than with a diploma;
(7) are fascinated with the West, seek to practice English, obtain scholarships to study abroad, and/or emigrate to the West; and
(9) have no interest in pastoring, aspiring instead to careers in teaching.
While studying in the Christian university, students may grow spiritually, develop a Christian worldview, explore their gifts and find their calling, “the place where [their] deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet” (Buechner 1973).
Can Two Groups with Unequal Capital and Resources Have an Equal and Collaborative Partnership?
How can two groups collaborate when they have unequal shares of resources
and power? Envisioning and preparing for theological education for North Koreans in the future is and will ultimately be a collaborative work of South Korean churches and leaders and North Korean underground churches and leaders, including North Korean defector leaders. Although the way South Korean churches welcome, minister, and partner with
North Korean defectors now is a “very important precedent” for the future mission in North Korea (Cho 2000, 392), Korean churches have been less sensitive and considerate to the social location of North Koreans. Lin (2001) states that gaining reputation was one of the recognized motivations that might lead members of a group that had better social capital and a higher position in the social hierarchical structures to initiate and build heterogeneous interactions and relationships with a group that had fewer social networks and resources.
Lin’s observation has been partly true for South Korean churches and pastors as they support North Korean defectors and leaders. Park painfully points out, “because of the Korean church’s own riches and power, however, one of the possible dangers of Korean mission is to share the Gospel from a position of cultural and economic power, not from that of vulnerability and humility” (2012,62).
When it comes to collaboration and partnership with North Korean defector
leaders and indigenous Christian leaders in the North in the future, Korean churches should be reminded of the statement produced in the international consultation hosted by the Council of Presbyterian churches in 1999 that “mission must not take place through power and material domination” and Korean churches and missionaries “need to maintain a critical review of the tendency of partnerships in mission to lapse back into colonial and neo-colonial patterns of domination” (2000). As far as Christian communities are concerned, the pattern of partnership and collaboration between the two groups, groups with unbalanced social, cultural, economic, and symbolic capital should be defined by stewardship, mutual respect, hospitality and humility. In fact, the notion of unbalanced resources itself is not an adequate perception. North Korean Christian leaders and defector ministers have different social, cultural, and symbolic capital that should be recognized as a unique contribution.
The role of North Korean defector pastors and leaders seems to be especially
important. North Korean defectors can be a node located in a strategic position or a weak tie bridging the two heterogeneous groups (North Korean Christians and South Korean Christians) whose social networks and resources are unequal and different, based on social capital theory (Lin 2001). The history and development of the existing systems and the existing reservoir of knowledge, experience, practice, and resources held by South Korean churches and theological schools should be valued as well as critically examined. Yet, one said, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house” (Lorde and Clarke 2007, 110). Neither South Korean educators nor consultants can be entirely free from the existing paradigm of theological education and its privileges. Nevertheless, consultants tended to have outsider-insider perspectives, were able to reflect critically on the existing model of theological education as peripheral participants or outliers on the one hand and sympathetically as insiders and fellow Christians on the other hand. At the same time, some of them seem to have a less tamed courage and an alternative vision for theological education.
Their novel or innovative insights should be taken seriously.
In conclusion, collaboration of South Korean leaders and North Korean
defector leaders should not be a naïve one that neglects recognition of differences in power and positioning. Its goal should be some more than just doing things differently or doing things in our or their own way.
Suggestions for Further Research
As a result of the current study, it would be interesting to explore to what
extent and in what ways theological educators and administrators of theological schools that belong to different denominational traditions are intentional about building the culture or ethos of an institution, in what ways their intentions are implemented and integrated into curricular structures, and how as a result, formation or socialization of theological students take place within theological educational institutions as a result. Bronfenbrenner’s ecological system theory may provide a helpful framework for research design and analysis. The ethnographic research that Carroll and her associates (1997) conducted in two theological schools may also provide a good example of research on culture and the formation of theological schools. In addition, Nespor’s study (1990) on curriculum structures might, with adjustments, be replicated or used particularly to analyze curriculum structures for theological education.
According to Nespor, students’ learning takes place over a few years of time
as they move with their colleagues through systems of required and elective courses and through organizational contexts and activities (1990, 504). The ways in which the density, tightness, and interlocking dimensions of the curriculum structure are organized reflect curriculum planners and implementers’ intentions and understanding of the nature, status, and power of the discipline or the degree program. Moreover, the curriculum structures experienced by students over time shape their identities relating to the career that the program is preparing them for, create a particular type of social ties, and construct particular ways of looking at reality and doing things. For studies in Korea like Nespor’s, doing ethnography of theological schools, in addition to interviewing faculties, administrators, and students, will be particularly helpful.
Second, although there is a large body of literature on leadership, it would be
intriguing to explore perceptions of leadership held by North Korean defectors and South Koreans. According to Luthans, Peterson, and Ibrayeva (1998, 188, 197) and Hofstede (2005, 39-72), leadership styles represented and aspired to in a country are deeply rooted in its history, traditional cultural values, and contemporary context. In particular, Luthans and his colleagues indicate that, due to their particular history and cultural values, people in some countries seem to be more tolerant and susceptible to the power of “dark” leaders and more willing to temporarily give up their rights or consciousness. Interestingly, they used South Korea to illustrate their point. They stated that the nostalgia for the powerful leadership of ex-president Park Jong-Hee felt by South Koreans during the recent economic downturn reveals the rootedness and tolerance of authoritarian leadership styles in South Korean society (Luthans et al. 1998, 197-198).
There has been much change in the consciousness of South Korean people;
they prefer communication and egalitarian leadership. However, some may again argue that Korea needs a strong leader to achieve national defense or reunification. Moreover, the accounts of consultants as to their changes in leadership styles, ways of teaching and learning, and communication make this topic more intriguing.
Conclusion
Some say that postmodernity has brought peoples who were previously
considered marginal to the center. North Korean defectors are, in a sense, located at the margin of South Korean society, and their marginal status implies memories or ongoing experience of suffering, discrimination, and prejudice (Lee 1995). However, “marginality is a condition that offers an opportunity of creativity” (Lee 1995, 47). Marginal people can develop “in-between,” critical “in-both,” or “in beyond” identities (Lee 1995). North Korean defector theological students and graduates/pastors are in fact developing such meaningful and creative identities. Their presence as newcomers should be celebrated as a catalyst for renewal and innovation in a community of pastoral practitioners, a community of theological students, churches, theological schools, Korean society, or even an international
Christian community.
Identity formation must be restored as an integral aspect of theological
education. Consultants’ responses repeatedly indicated that North Korea or a future unified Korea will need a different culture, a different church, a different model of theological education, and a different type of pastors than those currently found in South Korea. This is because they have found that neither North Korean nor South Korean cultures and systems are ideal. They have also seen how far some Korean churches have strayed from Scripture, from the God who raises the poor (South Korean Christians collectively) from the dust and the ash heap and gives them a throne of honor (1 Sam 2:8). The social and material prestige enjoyed by Korean churches have numbed their hearts so that the poor and the marginalized do not find them to be a home or a community where they can belong. Nevertheless, theological schools have not given sufficient attention to, or been intentional about, countercultural formation of theological students. They have not made or could not make strong prophetic voices. They have not provided correctives to secularism, materialism, authoritarian clericalism, or the hierarchical structure of Korean churches.
This study has highlighted more areas of weaknesses of Korean Christianity
than areas that it has been strong and faithful. Consultants may be right in saying that preparation for reunification and restoration of churches in North Korea should come with the repentance and renewal of South Korean churches and leaders. It is time for painful self-examination. It is time to recover the humility, teachableness, and vulnerability required to heed and learn from international communities of faith, cries of neighbors, and reproaches from within and without. What is hopeful is that if they repent and are renewed, new stories will be told and enacted. Social discourses about Korean Christianity and Christian leaders will be changed. The next generation of theological students will hear different stories about what it means to follow their call to ministry, and they will construct their identities drawing from a new reservoir of discourses. The church will again be a community that is distinct from the rest of the world, but which the eyes of the world can look to for hope.
APPENDIX 1
APPENDIX TITLE CENTERED AND UPPERCASE
Please provide the following information about yourself and your experience.
Name ______________ Gender _________ School Name ______________
1. Where did you become a Christian?
a. in North Korea
b. in South Korea
c. in another place _________
2. How long have you been a Christian?
3. Educational Background prior to enrollment in your theological school in
South
Korea
4. How long have you been in South Korea?
5. If you are currently a student,
a. _________ year of undergraduate school
b. _________ year of graduate school
If you are a graduate, which year did you graduate?
6. Why did you decide to go to theological school?
7. What is your aspiration after education? What will you do when you have finished studying at this school?
If you are a graduate,
a. I am involved in ministry of _________________
b. I am studying __________________.
I am currently not in ministry or school but doing ____________
My aspiration is
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APPENDIX 2
IINDIVIDUAL INTERVIEW PROTOCOL
1. I would like to hear about your experience as a North Korean defector student at theological school in South Korea.
a. What do you most appreciate about being a student at _______theological university or seminary?
b. What has been the most difficult part of being a North Korean defector student at _______ university or seminary?
2. Over the course of your educational experience at your school, think about a class in which you feel most engaged with what was happening.
When did it happen? Who was involved? How did it happen? What was it about the class that makes you feel so engaged? To what extent and if any, in what ways does your engaging experience have to do with your prior experience?
3. Look back and think about a class that you feel most distanced from what was happening?
When did it happen? Who was involved? How did it happen? What was it about the class that makes you feel so distanced? To what extent and if any, in what ways does your sense of distance have to do with your prior experience as a person from North Korea?
4. What action that anyone (teacher, student, or administrator) took in class or outside class but as part of school experience did you find most affirming and helpful that makes your learning experience at your school a better one?
When did it happen? How did it happen? What was it about the person’s action that was very affirming and helpful to you? To what extent and if any, in what ways does your perception have to do with your consciousness as a North Korean defector student in a South Korean theological school?
5. What action that anyone (teacher, student, or administrator) took in class or outside class but as a part of school experience did you find most puzzling or confusing? When did it happen? How did it happen? What was it about the person’s action that was very affirming and helpful to you? To what extent and if any, in what ways does
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your perception have to do with your consciousness as a North Korean defector student in a South Korean theological school?
6. Over the course of your learning experience at your school, think about an event at school in which you feel most transforming that you thought that this is something that ought to be happening in a theological school?
What was happening? How did it happen? What was it about the event that is so transforming? Does it change you in any way? How did it affect you?
7. Over the course of your learning experience at your school, think about an event at school that was frustrating and disappointing that you thought this is something that you hope not to see happening in a theological school?
What was happening? How did it happen? What was it about the event that you find it frustrating and disappointing? To what extent and in what ways does your feeling have to do with your unconscious expectations about Christians or the theological school?
8. Think back over the course of time that you have attended your school. Can you identify a few things that you consider as the most significant learning that you would take away from theological education?
- Why does learning that you identified matter to you most?
- In what ways has the learning had impact on you?
- What difference has the learning made in you or in what you do?
*Questions #2, 3, 4, 5, 7 are adapted from Brookfield’s Critical Incident Questionnaire (1995, 115)
APPENDIX 3
FOCUS GROUP INTERVIEW PROTOCOL
1. I would like to hear about your experience as a North Korean defector student at a theological school in South Korea.
a. What do you most appreciate about being a theological student?
b. What has been the most difficult part of being a theological student?
2. Look back and think about a particular course that stood out as the best course in your memory.
a. Describe to us. (Which class was it? What subject matter was the class about? What was the professor like? How big was the class? What kind of teaching methodology did the professor use? What was your participation in the class?
What did the learning environment or classroom atmosphere look like?)
b. What is it about the course that makes you think that is the best course? How did it affect you?
c. Does anybody identify the same course? What is the memory of your experience in the course?
d. What about others of you? What is the best course that you remember?
3. Look back and think about a particular course that stood out as the worst course in your memory.
a. Describe to us in details. (Which class was it? What subject matters was the class about? Who was a teacher and how big was the class? What kind of teaching methodology did the professor use? What was your participation in the class? What did the learning environment or classroom atmosphere look like?)
b. What is it about the course that makes you think that is the worst course? How did it affect you?
c. Does anybody identify the same course? What is the memory of your experience in the course?
d. What about others of you? What is the best course that you remember?
4. I gave you a piece of paper. Please write five to ten phrases that define or describe how you feel and think about being a North Korean defector student in a South Korean theological school. You may include some phrases that describe perceptions of others at school if it somehow has influenced on your self-consciousness.
a. Could any of you share some of the phrases that you wrote?
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b. How did you come to see yourself in this way?
c. If the phases that you shared are description of how others at school see you, how did you find that is the way they see you?
d. Would anybody else have similar phrases? Would anybody like to add a different phrase?
e. Does the way you see yourself influence on your attitude toward learning, participation, and relationship in the school? How?
5. Think back over the course of time that you have attended your school. Can you identify a few things that you consider as the most significant learning that you will take away with you when you leave the school?
- Why does the learning that you identified matter to you most?
- In what ways has the learning had impact on you?
- What difference has the learning made in you and in what you do?
6. This is our last task. Let’s imagine together that we together start theological education in North Korea. Knowing the situation of the people and the country so well and having reflected upon your theological education experience at a South Korean theological school, what would the theological education you like to create look like? Can anybody throw an idea to jump start? How similar or different do you think it would be like to what you have experienced in a South Korean theological school?
APPENDIX 4
INFORMED CONSENT FORM
Dear ___________,
Hello. My name is Eun Hee Yoo. I appreciate your willingness to participate in this study. This study seeks to understand learning experiences of North Korean defector theological students and graduates of theological schools in South Korea. The purpose of the study is to contribute to theological education in both a theoretical and practical sense.
The interview will take around 90 minutes. It will be digitally recorded and transcribed to be analyzed for the concern of the present study. Any information that you provide will be held in strict confidence. Your name will not be reported along with your responses at any time. A pseudonym will be used to prevent your identity from being disclosed to readers. In addition, you have a right to ask the researcher to show the portion of the dissertation that pertains to you. Lastly, your participation is completely voluntary, and you are free to withdraw your participation at any time during this study.
I understand the concern of the research and the above information and. I
willingly agree to participate in this study.
Name:_______________________________
Signed:_______________________________ Date:____________________________
APPENDIX 5
CONSULTANTS’ AFFILIATION WITH SCHOOL A AND B
Name Level of Edcation.
Received in North Korea Affiliation with School A or B
Andrew College/University School A and B
Daniel College/University School B
Elisha Secondary Education School A
Esther College/University School B
Hannah College/University School A
Jeremy Secondary Education School B
John Secondary Education School A
Joseph Secondary Education
Mary Secondary Education School A
Naomi
Paul College/University School A
Peter Secondary Education
Philip College/University School B
Phoebe Secondary Education School A
Priscilla College/University School A
Sharon Secondary Education School B
Thomas Secondary Education
Tim College/University School B
*This table provides only limited information about consultants for anonymity. Yet, the above information is shared in order to facilitate the understanding of findings in chapter 4.
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