다음 글은 미국 Minnesota 주의 Rochester 시에서 발행되는 지역 신문 Post Bulletine에 기고하는 저의 정기 칼럼의 첫 번째 글입니다.
Since this is our first meeting, let me begin with an introduction. I am Pastor Kyung-Hun Kim, senior pastor of One Heart Church, a Korean church in Rochester. My wife and I have three sons, in fifth, eighth, and ninth grade. One Heart Church is the only church in Rochester dedicated to the Korean diaspora. I came here from California in August 2022. I first arrived in the United States in June 2019 to pursue a doctoral degree at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California.
The word that has driven my life is “mission.” In my first year of college, I decided to give my life to God as a missionary. Like most young men in Korea, I entered the military at nineteen, and there I read the biography of J. Hudson Taylor, the missionary to China. It moved me deeply. When I was discharged from the army, I made a promise before God that, like Hudson Taylor, I would become a missionary to China and live by “faith mission.” In August 2016, my family and I left South Korea for the city of Xi’an, China. That was when our life as missionary sojourners truly began.
But four years after we were sent to China, my family was expelled. In a single day, we lost our home, our friends, our church, and our children’s school, everything we had. Just when every door seemed to be closed, God opened a path for me to study abroad, and we came to a new land, the United States. Because the heart of mission is to be where God sends us, we came to the US following the Lord’s guidance.
The stories of Genesis and Exodus are full of leaving. Adam and Eve had to leave Eden, and Cain had to depart to the east of Eden. Abraham had to leave his country, his people, and his father’s household, and so did his descendants Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. Exodus, too, is the story of a community leaving a land of oppression for freedom. Even the history of America began with people who left everything behind in search of religious freedom.
Leaving carries many risks. Stepping out of a familiar world is dangerous and burdensome. Yet without contact with the unfamiliar, our understanding would never grow. To go to a strange place is to make oneself vulnerable. In good times, neighbors may welcome us as one of their own, but when circumstances change, sojourners (immigrants) can be treated as outsiders at any moment. When Lot, who lived in Sodom, tried to stop his neighbors’ violence, they said, “This fellow came here as an alien, and now he wants to play the judge!” (Genesis 19:9), and they pushed him aside and moved to break down his door. It is a passage that shows how vulnerable the sojourner’s life can be.
Through the mission that has guided my life, I have come to know the true nature of the sojourner’s life. It has been a season of much pain and sorrow for me. But because of that pain, God led me to this Korean church to comfort the lives of the diaspora.
Only those who have tasted sorrow themselves can understand the hearts of those who are grieving now. Perhaps this is why the Bible is so full of the command to leave: there are precious lessons in life that can be learned only through leaving. When sorrow turns inward, it shrivels into self-pity. When it is transformed, it becomes compassion and love for our neighbors. No one escapes suffering, but some people’s souls grow deep, rich, and beautiful through it, while others grow bitter and grasping. The difference lies in how we handle our pain and sorrow. The reward of faith is not a life free of hardship. It is turning whatever hardship comes into the dignity of our lives.
The book of Hebrews tells us that our high priest is one who can sympathize with our weaknesses. It says: “He is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and are going astray, since he himself is subject to weakness” (Hebrews 5:2). Because he has experienced it himself, he can embrace the pain of others. This is exactly what the phrase “Wounded Healer” means. It is a great comfort to know that Jesus Christ lived on the same ground we do. He endured far greater hardship than any of us, yet he walked his path faithfully, uprightly, and steadfastly. And he says to us, “Follow me.” Following that Lord, I too came to Rochester as a wounded healer.