Gosh, Letty,” declared my friend, Maurita Arce. “Why are we visiting Korea when half of the Korean population is visiting, if not relocating, to Manila?” She was right. Our free mileage points, however, could only get us as far as Korea and since I’ve never been to Korea, it seemed like the best place to visit.
When I Googled “Korea - Tourist Attractions,” I found beautiful lakes and huge palaces, exquisite national costumes, handmade cards, arts and crafts, food markets, top-quality leather goods, lantern festivals, handcrafted lacquered furniture, museums and galleries, fresh fruits and flowers, modern and high-tech infrastructure, the DMZ (de-militarized zone) dividing South Korea from North Korea, and a must-try: The authentic royal court cuisine popularized by the telenovela Jewel in the Palace, a big hit with Filipino viewers. “These should keep us busy for a full week,” I thought.
Meanwhile, I e-mailed friends and contacts in Seoul starting with my former boss, the regional director of World Health Organization (WHO/WPRO) Dr. S. T. Han. Dr. Han had retired after a long and illustrious career and returned to Korea to enjoy a leisurely life of playing golf and being active on the university lecture circuit. “I will be your guide,” said Dr. Han. “At the same time, I will reacquaint myself with my own hometown and country.”
A few days before our departure, Maurita called. “Letty, my dentist says that we should make a side trip to Naju.” “Why?” I asked.
“She says that there’s a Marian shrine there,” said Maurita.
Naju is a small village on the outskirts of Seoul, about two hours by train, better known for its apple orchards and harvest of big, juicy and crispy Naju apples.
We spent six hours in Naju. We visited the motherhouse where the statue of the Virgin Mary is found. This statue was said to have shed fresh tears of blood in the presence of a visionary, Julia Kim Yuon. We were also taken to a wide and expansive landscaped garden with life-size sculptures of the Stations of the Cross and those of Christ Jesus in various poses of prayer and meditation. The volunteers who took care of the grounds were very meek and kind.
When we returned to Seoul, our friend Bernhard Brender, general manager of the Seoul Hilton, took us to Sunday Mass at their parish church, a Catholic community of expatriates. Because it was Mother’s Day as well as the first Holy Communion of the younger members of the community, Monsignor Stefano de Paulis of the Papal Nuncio’s office was also in attendance.
After Mass, Bernhard stood up and made an announcement: “My long-time friends from the hospitality industry, Letty and Maurita, are visiting from Manila and I wish to welcome them to Seoul and to our little congregation.” The audience clapped and cheered. Bernhard passed the microphone to me and, caught unprepared, I managed to say, “Thank you. This is my first visit to Korea and I thoroughly enjoyed the people, the food, and the shopping. I hope to come back again.” Once more, the community cheered and I saw some of them mouthing the word, “Welcome.”
When I passed the microphone to Maurita she mumbled, “What else will I say when you said everything already?” I didn’t pay much attention to her because I wanted to concentrate on finishing a novena prayer. Maurita cleared her throat and said, “Just like my friend here, I enjoyed Korea very much. We also went to Naju and I hope you all will have a chance to visit it.”
Dead silence. Nothing stirred, just deafening silence. With a nervous twitch, Maurita whispered, “I think I said something wrong, big-time boo-boo, Letty.”
Just when we thought the crowd would disperse, Maurita saw Monsignor Stefano approaching our pew. Maurita pulled my arm and said, “Uh-oh, Letty, I think we’re in trouble!” The Monsignor beckoned to the man seated next to Maurita to move so that he could sit next to her. He looked at Maurita intently and said, “Do you know that you committed sacrilege today by receiving Holy Communion at Mass?”
Without missing a beat, Maurita snapped back and asked, “Why?”
The Monsignor replied, “There was an edict issued by the Most Rev. Victorinus Youn Kong-hi, Archbishop Emeritus of Kwangju, that prohibits everyone and anyone from visiting Naju lest you suffer the consequence of being automatically excommunicated!”
That left us flabbergasted. Before Maurita could react, Monsignor Stefano placed his index and middle fingers on her forehead and made the Sign of the Cross. He whispered, “But since I’m cognizant of the fact that you were not aware of what you were doing, you are absolved and I am reinstating you to the Catholic faith.” Just like that.
Maurita tugged at my arm and blurted, “Monsignor, reinstate my friend, too; you must absolve her!”
The Monsignor turned to me and repeated the absolution. We were excommunicated and reinstated in two minutes flat.
When we had a chance to talk more lengthily with Monsignor Stefano, he explained, “The mystery of Naju — where the Virgin Mary is being played up — has been under a series of deep and intensive investigations by the Vatican. Until they are confirmed and/or sanctioned by the Vatican, all Catholics are prohibited from visiting Naju. Worse, do not be led by some group of Naju followers who believe and are fully convinced that it is a blessed and a holy place. It is only producing a rift between the official stand of the Church and the followers of Julia Kim Youn.”
In contrast, another Marian apparition — the Lady of Kibeho — was approved officially by the Vatican and considered genuine and authentic. The Lady of Kibeho in Rwanda appeared several times to a group of teenagers from the 1980s until 2001, warning of gruesome mass genocide as a consequence of tribal conflict between the Hutus and the Tutsis (“rivers of blood and people killing each other accompanied by wailing, tremors and comas.”)
The shock of being rebuked by my Church was, to say the least, unnerving. Fortunately, the expulsion was so brief that there was no time to feel the impact or digest its implications. When we got back to the hotel, Maurita and I looked at each other. What was that all about? Should we laugh or cry, be happy or get mad? What do you think?