The Westerner at the Korean Funeral: Another Foreigner Story
Friday, 19 September 2008 Clay Burell 
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[Rarely in the last 21 months have I let more than two days go by without writing in this space. It's been a full week, though, since my last post. There are a number of reasons, and I just want to explain one of them by telling this story:]
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New readers might not know this, but I’m somewhat of a newlywed, having married my Korean wife on March 8 of this year. One Sunday morning five weeks after the wedding, my wife’s mother suffered a catastrophic stroke from which the doctors doubted she would recover at all – though she did pull through, that tough woman. Six weeks after that, though, still in the hospital, she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. For the following nine weeks, we received regular urgent calls to rush to the hospital to say goodbye. All of them were false alarms, until another Sunday morning two weeks ago, when my wife’s mother finally passed away.
My wife’s family, though Christian, is still deeply Confucian in its devotion to family. You Westerners and Anglos who think you know what a close family is would probably agree, after living in China or Korea, that Confucianism takes family ties to depths unknown in the West. And because I’m married to the oldest child in the family, I was a bit shocked to discover that I was now looked upon as the “oldest son” of my wife’s family, outranking her two brothers – in theory, anyway. My inability to speak Korean soon made it clear that I could not play that role, so I receive much honor from my brothers, but little of the burden they’re having to bear.
This became clear, especially, during the three days’ mourning at the funeral home. Korean Confucianism dictates that the sons of the deceased spend two full days in black mourning suits, welcoming all who come to pay their final respects. (The daughters are not allowed to do this, but instead linger outside the altar room in their own black mourning dresses.) The visiting hours extend from roughly 8.00 a.m. to midnight, and the sons spend that entire time seated next to the altar, until a visitor arrives, at which point the sons stand shoulder to shoulder.
At first, my brothers-in-law insisted I welcome guests with them in this fashion, and I did my best – but it was confusing. Sometimes, visitors would come, we would bow, and then the visitors would turn to my mother-in-law’s portrait, place a white chrysanthemum on the table in front of it, then bow their heads and pray. They would then turn back to us, and we would both bow to each other from the waist, shake hands while exchanging a few words of thanks, and say goodbye.
At other times, though, guests would come in and go through the same process up to placing the flower – but then, instead of bowing their heads and praying, they would stand upright, fall to their knees, then place both hands on the floor in front of them, and touch their foreheads to the floor between their hands for a few long seconds. Then they would stand up, and repeat that ritual a second time, and stand back up, bow toward the portrait from the waist, slowly, then turn to us.
The first time this happened, I thought my brothers-in-law and I would bow from the waist the way we had with the earlier guests. So I was surprised to see them instead spread out a bit, face the guests, and then, together with the guests, do the two full head-to-the-floor genuflections all over again, followed by the final bow from the waist.
I thought this second form of reverence was beautiful. I couldn’t understand why it was performed less frequently than the first.
Anyway, after we and the visitors performed that rite, the visitors would then shake my brothers-in-laws’ hands down the line, and usually, when they got to me, look quizzically at me and either ask my brothers-in-law a polite “who’s the foreigner” question in Korean and then shake my hand, or else look at me coldly, turn their backs without a word, and leave.
To digress for a second, I can’t recommend highly enough that second experience to any white Anglo, because it was the first time in my life I had experienced what it feels like to be looked down upon and rejected because of your race. I’m fully aware, in retrospect, that my interpretation of these people’s reactions to me could be wrong, that possibly it was just discomfort, confusion, or any number of other reasons that they didn’t treat me as equal to my brothers-in-law. But the feelings I experienced during those moments were new. I felt a new appreciation for the experience of people of color, or in interracial marriages, in the U.S. and other white-dominated countries.
My brothers-in-law noted the awkwardness, and seemed to come to grips with the fact that I was not Korean, that I was a somewhat distracting presence for all, and gave me permission to basically come and go as I pleased while they kept the stricter vigil. I pretty much did that for the rest of the mourning.
Back to the story, though: After a few hours of sometimes kneeling – kow-towing, to give it its Chinese name – and sometimes only bowing, I asked my brother-in-law: “Why do some people kneel and touch their heads to the floor when paying their final respects, while others don’t, but instead only stand, pray, and bow?”
His answer saddened me: “The ones who kneel are traditional Koreans. That’s the way we’ve always done it. But the ones who don’t kneel are Korean Christians. They were taught by the missionaries not to kneel to their ancestors, because that was worshiping them, and the First Commandment in the Bible forbids that, so it would displease God.”
My wife had told me, in the first days of our courtship, that her childhood was marred by family fights over whether to pay respect to ancestors the traditional way or, in following the teachings of their new Christian faith, to refuse to do so. It’s an issue that has caused a lot of strife and discord in many Korean families since the missionaries came, and continues to do so. The funny thing is, though, that as I watched this custom being enacted by mourners toward my mother-in-law, it never entered my mind that they were “worshiping” her. They were paying respect, they were honoring, they were expressing reverence for this woman they loved and her path on this earth, as far as I could see – and doing it in a very touching, beautiful, humbled way. And now, because some long-ago foreign man of a foreign god had interpreted their culture in terms of his own, they were fighting about it.
My wife’s family, again, being Christian, themselves did not pay their final respects to their mother in this traditional way. Instead, they constantly pulled out their Korean translations of the English (King James) translation of the Hebrew/Aramaic/Greek Bible, read verses from it, prayed to its god, and droned Western hymns (again in Korean translation) from its hymnal. I found that sad.
On the third day, we were called to watch the Korean undertakers wrap my mother-in-law’s body in the traditional silk binding-cloth, from head to toe, layer after layer, each layer tied tightly across her body with silk ties, until in the end she looked as if enclosed in a silk cocoon. A few hours later, we were at the funeral grave-site. The Christian preacher read a few verses from the Bible, they sang a few more hymns, the Korean grave-diggers covered the coffin with dirt and trotted in a circle of four to pack it down, in a cheerful way that made the children laugh and me think of the wry grave-digger in the Yorick’s skull scene in Hamlet. They said one last prayer – I kept my eyes open, as always when people pray, and took in the beautiful view of nature from this hilltop site, thinking appreciative thoughts the whole while about nature’s beauty, my in-laws’ decency, my mother-in-law’s well-meaning life – and then we all left.
We were all exhausted. I thought that was the end of it. But soon I learned that Korean Chusok – “Thanksgiving” – began two days later, and we would be spending another three or four days with the family at my father-in-law’s apartment on the outskirts of Seoul.
During Chusok, I learned that families visit the graves of their ancestors to have a meal “with them” there – so back we went to the gravesite, only three days after the burial. For some reason, my wife’s family didn’t bring a meal to the grave, but at many of the neighboring graves speckling the rolling hills of the massive cemetery, families were all picnicking by the burial mounds with rice and chopsticks and kimchi and the whole Korean spread. It was a cheerful sight on a beautiful, sunny, late-summer day.
We kept our visit short. Father-in-law now read from the Bible instead of preacher. I noticed he read from Revelation, the last book of the Christian New Testament, which Martin Luther himself rejected and opined should not be included in the Protestant Bible because he “saw no God there.” More hymns were sung and prayers said, as I again surveyed the view of nature, and mentally surveyed the path of all our lives, and its common destination.
I found myself wondering again, as I had many times over the past week, if anybody in the family found it sad that all the words being spoken were not from the hearts of the family members, but the pages of a foreign book; that no words at all were being spoken by any but the elder men – preacher, then father; that the words were not about this kind woman in the ground at the end of her good life, but were instead about a “jealous God” and a crucified teacher in that foreign book. Even the tombstone inscription was not the family’s words, and its subject not the family’s mother and wife: instead, it was a cliche verse glorifying the god of that book. It seemed so impersonal to me.
I remembered, too, all those rushed “last visits” to the hospital bed, the family thinking so many times they were sharing their last moments with her, and each time wishing that someone would simply speak to her – would tell her she had been a good mother, a good wife, that she was loved, that her life was well-spent – instead of incessantly weeping and praying above her to the god they hoped would save her. I don’t think she ever got to hear her family express such things. Religiosity kept getting in the way.
The final Chusok prayer was said, and the family turned to leave. My wife stayed, and so did I. I told her I didn’t want to offend anybody, but that I wanted to pay my respects to her mother in the most beautiful way I could. After I explained what I meant by that, I was surprised that my wife approved.
So, though it felt slightly foolish, this foreigner – whose culture’s book and customs had dominated the life and death of this woman – he faced his mother-in-law’s fresh grave, went to his knees, touched his head to the earth at her feet, lingered, stood. Did the same thing again, stood again. Then he bowed his head, inwardly thanked her for her selfless life as a good mother and wife and neighbor – she really was all of these things – and rejoined his family.
~ ~ ~
Thanksgiving is over now, and we’re back home. But things are fragile, and it’s hard to concentrate. I’m almost ready to tackle the next three books of Gilgamesh, but not quite. To complicate matters more, I’m both job-hunting and writing a non-fiction book proposal, which is about a 40-page task.
So bear with me. I hope to be the regular old writer soon.
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Tags: autobiography Print This Post
No. 1 — September 19th, 2008 at 3:48 pm
It is strange to hear that Christians decided to stop ancestor worship since the whole religion is based on a form of ancestor worship (from a certain point of view). I understand that feeling of being outside the situation and not truly understanding what is going on. At the funeral for Aysem’s uncle, I was very lost. Some of the actions at the mosque for quite moving and the grave side was very sad. It was also the day I found out that not everybody does all the prep work for funerals that we do in the US.
Tims last blog post..Classical Literature — The Tao Te Ching
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No. 2 — September 19th, 2008 at 8:22 pm
I had tears in my eyes as I read your last tribute to your mother-in-law. I lost my own mother recently and found it a comfort to be able to tell her how much I appreciated and loved her before she passed- in NZ funerals are very customisable and we were able to do a iPhoto slideshow before the service which allowed people to share in many great moments of Mum’s life- visually picking up many threads that we couldn’t do by telling her story orally- thanks for sharing.
AllanahKs last blog post..Now It Seems More Real
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Clay Burell Reply:
October 16th, 2008 at 12:20 am
Allanah, I’m sorry for your loss, but so glad you had the chance to say goodbye that way. It’s good to hear a story of people taking back the right to say goodbye.
Clay Burells last blog post..Join Me in Wikispaces’ First “Wikis in Education” Webinar Thursday Oct. 16
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No. 3 — September 20th, 2008 at 5:45 am
I will remind you, master storyteller, that the spirits of the great and lovely souls who have gone before us stay alive in the now through story. Tell the stories of your mother-in-law. It is in those stories that she lives on for you, your family, and anyone fortunate enough to hear/read them. You have a gift.
Kate Tabors last blog post..Itchy Friday…
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No. 4 — September 20th, 2008 at 10:30 am
Clay,
Thank you for sharing these mourning traditions with us. Your respect and love for your mother-in-law is obvious. In honoring her, you honor your partner; in cherishing your partner, you cherish the woman who helped form her character.
My deepest sympathy to you, your wife, and your Korean family.
dianes last blog post..Promises to Keep
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No. 5 — September 21st, 2008 at 2:12 am
As i finished reading your story, i was brought to tears. i am a young Korean female with a family much like yours. my stepfather is a white man who came into our family and married the eldest daughter/child of the Pak family, where he too held the same role you held in your family. the only difference is that he was married to my mother for 10 years before the tragedy occurred. i happen to be the oldest child from a line of 5 generations of firstborns. you can imagine the type of expectation and responsibility has been placed on my shoulders by birthright.
several years ago, my grandmother passed away. and i never once stopped to think about how my dad felt around that time. you have just made me look at it from the perspective of my dad. and it hurts my heart that i never once thought of it in the way you so eloquently wrote.
my family still does the bowing ritual on certain occasions. that is a tradition that has been unmarred by Christianity, however most of my family does claim to be Christian. so the concept of Christianity wiping out some of our traditions hasn’t really had an impact on us. besides we “kids” love to bow on new years to receive money from our elders. [I'm not a kid anymore but i still bow to my family]
basically, thank you so much for opening my eyes to the fact that maybe my dad had it a lot harder than i thought he did. and maybe he cared a lot more than he let on… but was silenced by the intimidating koreans he was constantly surrounded with. after 16 years, he still doesnt know a lick of korean, but i know he loves our family. thank you for showing me his perspective.
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Clay Burell Reply:
October 16th, 2008 at 12:18 am
Chandra, I’m so sorry it took me so long to reply to your comment. It stopped me cold when I read it, and made me speechless.
I still am, somewhat. You said it all so well. I’m glad you took the trouble to share it. Kind of amazing, this world.
Clay Burells last blog post..Join Me in Wikispaces’ First “Wikis in Education” Webinar Thursday Oct. 16
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No. 6 — September 21st, 2008 at 5:02 am
There’s a pervasive peace in your writing that overcomes both awkward and staggeringly solemn moments, Clay. As you may remember, my parents were Christian missionaries in the highlands of Papua New Guinea. When I was in middle/high school their work was to replace the culture of the Huli clans ( http://www.gabelomas.org/huli/htms/huli1.htm ) with “Christianity”, which included the observances and rituals that went along with their particular breed of faith.
Regardless of how much impact my parents and their colleagues had on the local culture, there were always beautiful rituals that would literally rise above the influence of the proselytizers. If a tribal elder passed away, families would rise up into the mountains and light fires as they gathered around the body of their beloved, and in a way that only true oral cultures are still capable, members of the tribe would begin to wail the story of the deceased. These stories could go on ceaselessly for day, and night, and day, and night… literally days of non-stop recollections of the lives of those who’d passed.
It used to bother me that sometimes I couldn’t sleep at night because somebody was mourning up on a mountainside – and even when we’re mourning we can be selfish about the way other people mourn around us.
Sometimes people need to wail on the top of a mountain, or they need to place their head on the ground because that’s just what they’re moved to do.
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No. 7 — September 21st, 2008 at 11:22 am
You say that you thought it was sad that Christianity, a religion that does not have Korean origins, was incorporated into a Korean funeral. In particular, you mention the mourners being too devoted to the text of the bible and the lack of a wide variety family members (and friends, I suppose) saying a few words of their own.
It is true that Christianity is not of Korean origin, but do not discount the decision of competent adults to choose their own religion. It’s also worth remembering that the style of Christianity practiced in Korea is actually quite Korean. Had you married into an Irish family rather than a Korean one, I’m sure you would have found their wake and funeral rather different. Korea and Ireland have different cultures, and that is reflected in many ways, including how they practice Christianity. (And remember, Christianity isn’t of Irish origin either.)
Christian missionaries went to Korea with the goal of getting Koreans to change their religion and behavior. You may want to remember that before you suggest (even implicitly) any changes to the religion or behavior you find in Korea.
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Clay Burell Reply:
September 21st, 2008 at 3:52 pm
That’s such a given, Robert, it’s impossible not to remember. But it doesn’t make them right. And it’s precisely what I find unfortunate.
“Competent” adults in Africa right now, in AIDS-stricken regions, are deciding to believe similar missionaries who tell them not to use condoms, and so exacerbate – or at least don’t ameliorate – the epidemic.
Further, most adults of the first generation to convert in this country were farmers with no education. They were hardly on the same educational level as the Jesuits.
I’m all for “competent adults” choosing their religion. The reality is, though, that most religions are never “chosen,” since the indoctrination begins before the adherents even have their full set of baby teeth. That’s parents choosing the religion for their children, rather than adults choosing their religion themselves.
I’m told China has a law that minors may not enter religious institutions until they’re adults (18, I think) able to reason as adults. Decisions made under those circumstances fit what you’re talking about more than is the case in lands in which children are plunged into a creed without the mental capacity to question it.
Finally, if you’re implying that I made any attempt to change my family’s religion, I’d ask you for evidence. This narrative is personal. It reflects my experience, and stops there.
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Charlie A. Roy Reply:
September 22nd, 2008 at 2:07 am
@ Clay
I’m glad to see the distinction made between the Jesuits and the more modern missionaries. One interesting thing to be noted in the history of many nations with large groups of Christians is how the native believes have been incorporated into the Christian faith while preserving the dignity of the ancient belief when compatible.
Some historians argue that the initial success of the Jesuits in Asia had to do in large part with the blending of the Catholic belief in the Communion of Saints and Purgatory with the Confucian beliefs of honoring one’s ancestors. Christianity comes in various forms. Certain missionary groups are much more tolerant than others.
On an off note one thing I don’t understand is the need to evangelize already Christian nations. In college my protestant friends spoke of their mission trips to Haiti. When I pointed out that Haiti is Christian with a population that is 98% Roman Catholic I was laughed at. I suppose a trip to help build schools, provide clean water etc is harmless enough but to presume that these people are ignorant of the Gospel is a bit much to swallow.
Thanks again Clay for a wonderful post!
Charlie A. Roys last blog post..The Debate on Drug Testing
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Robert Swier Reply:
September 22nd, 2008 at 10:27 am
Thanks for your reply. I’m not sure why Christianity was attractive to Koreans after the arrival of the missionaries. I agree that the missionaries had more education, but I don’t how or whether that helped them get more converts. At some point, the missionaries must have simply made their case and large numbers of people choose to agree.
As for whether adults choose their religion or not, I have to say that they do, even if the religion they practice was first taught to them as children. Adults are under no obligation to continue believing the same things they believed in childhood, even if there is pressure from friends and family for them to do so.
I’m not sure how the Chinese law you cite could be implemented. Does that mean that Christians in China cannot bring their children to church? Buddhists cannot bring their children to a temple? China does not guarantee broad religious freedom, so perhaps there are better examples.
I didn’t mean to imply in my original post that you had taken any action to change anyone’s religion. But it did seem quite clear that you wished for some changes in their religious practices. You called them “sad” after all. Of course, there is a big difference between wishing for something and taking steps to make it happen, so I didn’t mean to come across as critical.
But anyway, the most interesting thing here is what makes something “Korean”. One issue you have with Christianity is that it’s “foreign” in Korea. But, it’s a dominant religion in Korea and among Koreans worldwide. In my view, that makes it as Korean as anything else.
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Clay Burell Reply:
September 22nd, 2008 at 11:54 pm
Conversion to foreign religions throughout history have rarely, if ever, been “simple.” North and South America were converted (if they weren’t killed by disease or slavery) by force, primarily; Charlemagne converted most of Northern and Western Europe by force as well. The Roman Empire, when Constantine and his successors supported Christianity as a state religion, converted citizens through preferential treatment for jobs in the bureaucracy and so forth. If you wanted a good job, you had to be a Christian. The government also finally physically destroyed the pagan temples, thus eliminating the competition. Reason had little to do with it. Politics had almost everything to do with it.
We can’t discount, either, the self-interest of some converts who notice that the missionaries are wealthier and more powerful, and perhaps attached to a conquering army – another incentive to side with the winner for reasons that are rational, yes, but only in terms of enlightened (and materialistic) self-interest.
Many missionaries today use health care or other social work to attract converts (secular ones like Medicins sans Frontiers do the good works by attributing it to ethical good will instead of the religion of one of the major tribes).
Reason – especially when dealing with illiterate populations – is surely one of the least-used methods of conversion.
Don’t you find it sad that thousands are dying unnecessarily in Africa of AIDS because foreign men (and women) of a European god are telling them that condoms are against god’s will? Don’t you wish it weren’t so?
Unnecessary suffering – family divisions, diseases, more – caused by missionary activity should make us all feel sad, shouldn’t they?
Most children reach adulthood without ever receiving an opportunity to question the teachings of their childhood. Schools don’t touch that taboo, generally (though I’m hearing more and more that IBO and, surprisingly, Catholic schools allow skepticism and reason to question articles of faith about unproven metaphysics from this or that religion).
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No. 8 — September 22nd, 2008 at 5:36 am
I’m sorry for your loss.
speronis last blog post..Spore
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No. 9 — September 23rd, 2008 at 7:41 am
[...] wife lost her mother two weeks ago. Her mother was a good woman, and passionately Christian. Yet her life was ended at a young 64 by a [...]
No. 10 — September 29th, 2008 at 8:50 am
Clay, it is certainly difficult being the foreigner in a relationship. I am glad that you were able to share your tribute to your mother-in-law with your wife on Thanksgiving. It’s interesting to see the different traditions at work within the same family. My condolences to you and your wife.
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Clay Burell Reply:
October 16th, 2008 at 12:16 am
a belated thanks for that, ann.
Clay Burells last blog post..Join Me in Wikispaces’ First “Wikis in Education” Webinar Thursday Oct. 16
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No. 11 — February 17th, 2009 at 8:03 pm
[...] settle in and begin teaching Asian history there). On top of that, we’re still dealing with mourning in my family over my mother-in-law’s passing, and with the ominous mood of the global [...]
No. 12 — March 18th, 2009 at 10:04 pm
[...] temple full of incense and drumming with monkeys scrambling in trees overhead. I’ve seen it most recently at my Korean mother-in-law’s fresh grave-site, where her family visits and speaks no words of [...]
No. 13 — October 9th, 2009 at 8:58 am
I understand how it feels to be the foreigner, only, I’m half-Korean and half-white, and was born in Seoul (raised in America). My father was the white man who ended up marrying my mother and they both were dropped from the family until I was born, being that when my parents got married, any Korean woman married to a white man was considered a whore (pardon the language). I was important to the family (being the first grandchild, I am supposedly the most important), but I was what was considered “tainted blood”. I’m looked down upon by society more so than foreigners themselves.
We left Korea while I was still young after discovering how I was not recieved with open arms in the world I had been brought in to.
I visited just last year (almost 16 that year, so I was allowed to go by myself to visit my family) and I was not welcome in the slightest bit. I would get dirty looks, they would overprice things if my family wasn’t around, and in one instance (that made me decide to never take the subway again) they didn’t let me sit down on the trains just because of what I am.
I don’t know what brought about this hatred for half-breeds and foreigners, but it hurts.
I’m happy that your family accepts you, though, and I highly recommend learning Korean. It’s worth it, and it’ll catch many people off guard. I know Korean (can write, write, and understand perfectly), but I cannot speak.
Reading this made me think about the Korean culture and wonder some more, however. I never knew there was this sort of struggle.
My grandmother is Christian, but we are all traditional. Christian morals took her away from smoking and drinking, as she did both rather heavily, and she’s a devout Christian, but nothing has taken her away from traditional Korean things like the funeral rites…
Maybe my family never had much of a struggle with deciding which way to go.. Before my mother abandoned me, she always told me to keep the tradition and carry it on. I had recently thought to abandon them, like she did with me, just to spite her. And now after reading this, I think I should perhaps carry the traditions on to preserve my heritage and maybe help it become more tolerant of “half-breed” children like myself. Or atleast tolerate them as much as they do with foreigners, which is FAR more than you would suspect.
I’d like to think I’ve become a little less bitter after reading this, but I’d only be becoming less of a cynic.
Mostly what I was trying to say here was that I’ve been briefly educated, and I thank you. I’ve hopefully given some more insight on a culture I’m attracted to, yet disgusted at.
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Clay Burell Reply:
October 20th, 2009 at 12:46 am
Tamara,
I just found your comment in my spam queue, oddly, and approved it so it would show.
Your comment is so powerful it speaks for itself. If I hear you right, you’re still in high school. If that’s true, all I want to say is that you’ve been given a unique condition to transcend and, if you do the inner work to achieve that transcendence, you just might find yourself looking back on this otherwise ugly circumstance as a strange sort of blessing.
As you can read in “Of Jocks and Fags,” my account of my own high school years in hell being bullied (see the sidebar under “Best of Beyond School” above on the right), I’m now strangely thankful for those dark years. I hope you will be too, one day.
“For Zeus the Helmsman laid it down as law: that we must suffer, suffer, suffer into Truth.” — Aeschylus, The Oresteia. I’ve always loved that line (though I’m typically a light-hearted and playful guy now who’s way beyond caring to waste time on suffering any more!).
Thanks for dropping in, Tamara. You sound interesting.
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No. 14 — December 29th, 2009 at 2:37 pm
this is a story worth reading… I’m glad I stumbled upon this
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Clay Burell Reply:
December 29th, 2009 at 4:18 pm
Thank you.
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No. 15 — February 2nd, 2010 at 4:26 pm
Whassup Clay!
I can’t wait for you to deal with what I think is one of the most important passages in the Epic of Gilgamesh. This is when Gilgamesh goes off in search of the secret of eternal life and encounters the goddess Siduri who attempts to dissuade him with words that forshadow those in Ecclesiastes 9:7-9. I’d be very keen to hear your take on this as the “meaning of life.”
(I should add that it’s not a view I subscribe to, certainly not after encountering Carl Sagan’s work. One more thing, whoever coded your website did a fantastic job!)
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No. 16 — June 6th, 2010 at 6:36 pm
I just lost my grandmother on Saturday at 7:57am PST, June 5th and I was reading about how other Koreans dealt with loss of a loved one when I came across this article. I found it beautiful and understand where the awkwardness would be when doing the full bowing position and the ceremonies that Koreans use.
I am a Seoul-born, American-raised. full-bloodied Korean from a very traditional family. As I will be the next head of this family after my father, I had been raised to keep with the traditions that were passed down. My family, on my father’s side, is wholly Buddhist and is very strict in keeping with the traditional Confucian influenced teachings of old and yet I became a Christian and I struggled with it for many years. When we held ceremonies on death anniversaries, I would pray to God instead of paying respect to my ancestors for a long time until I came to terms with it.
This is not worshiping my ancestor but keeping tradition as well as my identity as a Korean. I still fully bow with forehead to the floor when I greet my elders and I don’t have to do this for money or only during the New Year’s ceremony. There is something to be said for filial piety. Though a nightmare in my teens, it has served me well in my older years as I relearn the lessons my elders imparted upon me in my youth.
Forgive that I am being long winded, but I wanted to give an idea of where I am from.
Though you did not understand completely understand our culture, I am grateful that you bowed in the traditional manner. And I agree that it is not worship but a deep act to show your final respects (and what could be more respectful than bowing that low).
I only feel sad you could not experience a more traditional funeral. In Korea, filial piety is supreme. In the olden days they would not cut their hair because it was given to them from their parents by way of birth and even finger and toe nail clippings were carefully wrapped away so as to lose nothing their parents gave them. I’m also amazed your mother-in-law wasn’t taken home for her final days as is tradition. Western culture and Christianity seem to be threatening the great aspects of a proud culture.
Still this long rant aside, I thank you for your article, it has brought some solace in this tough time. Though this article is old and my comment too long, I wanted to thank you for it.
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Clay Burell Reply:
June 6th, 2010 at 8:19 pm
Charles, just a quick note to say there was absolutely no need to apologize for the length–I would have read twice as much gladly for such a fine comment.
It’s funny that your comment comes when it does. I just finished a year teaching the history of China, and delved (and am still delving) deeper into Confucianism than ever in my life, and I find it more impressive with each layer, from the personal to the social to the economic to the political. When the British strangled it during the Opium Wars, it strangled a precious thing. I read many China blogs, and recently read that rich Chinese are feeling an emptiness in that material success, and are re-visiting their Confucian roots in search of something more meaningful. It would be a wonderful thing, in my view, to see China re-embrace the social ethic it lost when Deng ushered in the “to become rich is glorious” ethos. (I wonder if you think Korea could use such a return as well.)
Anyway, that’s all for now, and thank you for the comment, and I wish you well in what must be a hard time.
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No. 17 — August 25th, 2010 at 10:36 am
Wonderful article. Thank you so much for writing this.
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Clay Burell Reply:
August 25th, 2010 at 5:16 pm
And thank you for the kindness to take the time, Mary.
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