Embarking on a Journey of Faith

For most of Jaewoo Lee’s life, religious faith has existed as a possible answer to “some of the questions you can’t avoid” about life and death and meaning. A pragmatist, he considered himself an agnostic, not ready to disbelieve, but not ready to make a basic leap of faith, either.

Until about six months ago, that is, when a chance encounter with a book explaining some of the tenets of Catholicism turned the Korean immigrant into a “shallow and shaky” believer.

“I guess I was ready to cave in,” said Lee, an associate professor of economics at UC Irvine. “There are those things that can’t be proved or disproved. But once I accepted a few of those things as a matter of faith, as a matter of axiom, then everything followed logically.”

So Saturday night, at the age of 35, Lee joined more than 40 other Korean Americans in Easter Vigil baptisms into the Roman Catholic Church at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton in Irvine.

For many of the newly faithful, known in the church as Catechumens, the baptism completes a journey that first brought them to a new country and society, and now to a new faith.

But it also reflects a renewed push by the Catholic Church to attract adult converts in the community at large. The program, called the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, revives a practice that dates to the church’s early years, through which Catholics--following the lead of the Apostles--actively sought to bring adults into the faith.

As the church became more established, the original practice fell into disuse around the 4th century when “infant Baptism became more the norm,” said Charlotte Praether, religious education director at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton.

The Second Vatican Council, convened in 1962 by Pope John XXIII to reassess the role of the church in modern society, drew fresh attention to the rite. Specific guidelines were issued in 1972, replacing a seven-step process affirmed by Vatican II. Still, few American parishes embraced the rite until the National Conference of Catholic Bishops mandated it in 1988, and it slowly took root.

The rite requires those interested in converting to go through a period of inquiry, then a period of instruction running from several months to a year, culminating in baptism during the Easter Vigil, the evening before Easter.

This year, Praether said, some 60 converts took part at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, including 45 who had not been baptized into a Christian church.

Across the Diocese of Orange, about 1,065 people joined the church this Easter weekend, more than 560 of them joining a Christian religion for the first time, according to a roster of new members published by the diocese. That marks a drop from two years ago, when 1,632 adults joined the church, 832 of them baptized as Christians for the first time, said Msgr. Lawrence Baird, the diocesan spokesman. The adult conversions represent less than 10% of the church’s new members each year, according to data maintained by the diocese.

Praether said those who go through the ritual do more than simply join a church.

“It’s a process of conversion and community, learning what it is to lead a life that is explicitly Christian,” Praether said. “Usually they’re very good people who are seeking stability and trust. They are not seeking a conversion from evil to good, but a stronger presence of God in their lives.”

For Jamoa Moberly, 45, the decision to become Catholic was spurred by a desire to unify her family in one faith.

Moberly was raised Lutheran but married a Catholic, and the couple are raising their two children within the Catholic Church. She regularly attends Mass with her family, but since she had never converted she was barred from some of the rituals, including communion--the cornerstone of the Mass.

“You’re there, but not really there,” Moberly said. “I was missing a lot.”.

Part of her reticence to join before, she said, stemmed from her belief that faith is a personal relationship with God, which left her uncomfortable with aspects of Catholicism that emphasize communal worship.

“The community was open to me,” she said, “but I didn’t feel open to it. I felt my religion was my personal business. I wasn’t quite ready to go public with my religious beliefs.”

The focus on ritual was a deterrent too, she said, until she realized that the rituals were less important than the faith.

“My personal faith has gotten stronger the more I’ve been involved,” she said. “It surprises me that I’m really happy about my conversion. I feel it will help me with my children, with my husband, but it is first of all a gift to myself. . . . It’s enlightening. It’s like a beginning.”

Joining the church formed even more of a beginning for many of the Korean immigrants, who are dealing not only with a new culture but a new practice of faith.

Historically, said Father Alex Kim, a pastor at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, churches have filled a role as community focal point for immigrants.

“It provides a place where people can come together,” he said. “They are not in a place where things are familiar. So people begin to look inside, begin looking for something to fulfill inner longing.”

Rather than personal disruption providing a need for such affirmation, he said, the disruption provides the time for personal inquiry, especially when daily routines change. Korean men in particular, Kim said, find themselves freer to express religious feelings in the U.S. than in Korea simply because the cultural demands on them are reduced.

“America is more family oriented, so men who felt left out can go to church,” said Kim. “And everything is new. They want some moral guidance, some information regarding raising kids in this country. . . . Faith has to be nurtured in the context of culture.”

For Kenny Kim, 40, a general contractor from Lake Forest, becoming a Christian in general and a Catholic specifically completed a transformation.

Kim grew up in Korea loosely following the traditional Korean Buddhist-based religion, he said. But he left faith behind in pursuit of himself.

“I just spent all my time for myself and for my family--ego things,” Kim said. “I realized I should change something.”

Kim, who immigrated to the U.S. 15 years ago, said many of his friends are Christian, belonging to myriad churches. He was drawn to the Catholic Church through a relative who was raised Catholic. He found the selflessness of some Catholics inspiring, he said.

“After I go to church, I saw many people put their time for other people,” said Kim. “So they [serve] us beginners, helping us find out who is God, and helping us save our lives forever. They put their time for other people. That was really impressive for me.”

Kim is married and the father of two sons, ages 12 and 10. The whole family was joining the church this weekend, in part, Kim said, to open his sons not only to faith, but to self-fulfillment.

“We have to make them realize that life is very important,” Kim said. “I don’t want them to be living like me before.”

Kerry Hwang, another convert, said she was drawn to Christianity partly through fear.

“Living in this society, every day there’s violence,” Hwang said. “The only way we can survive is by living what God told us to do. So that gives me some kind of motivation to be living in God and following his steps.”

Yet there are other reasons, said Hwang, 48, of Irvine, a Pacific Bell personnel administrator who is married with an 18-year-old son. Membership in a church can help buttress moral lessons that children should be taught at home, she said.

Hwang formerly belonged to Protestant churches but she was drawn through friends to the Catholic Church. Her husband doesn’t follow a religion, she said, and her son remains a Protestant.

“My friends have a rich faith in God, and I began to think of Catholicism as my religion,” Hwang said. “That’s why I started.”

Lee’s embrace of Catholicism began with curiosity about his wife’s decision to join.

“I thought I better know what they were talking about,” said Lee, the UCI economics professor. “One of my wife’s concerns was that if she goes to church with the children without me, would it be viewed as a strange thing?”

He began reading a book on the catechism, he said, and “was surprised I liked it.”

He said friends have teased him that becoming Christian was a conflict between intellectualism and theism.

“But I don’t see such a big contradiction,” said Lee.

Part of the scientific method, he said, is a reticence to give a specific name to unexplained phenomena. In his case, Lee said, he is making the leap to definition.

“At this point,” he said, “I’m agreeing that there is a God.”