Accidental Baptism

This post is a recap of one of my first experiences in Korea.

It had been two months since I arrived in Jeonju, a city so proud of its traditions that the sign for a Jeonju style restaurant would often read “Traditional Korean Restaurant” in English. Although at this point, I was still unable to differentiate this Korean city and the next, I was enjoying my stay and very much enjoying the food for which the city is known.

That morning as I was grading papers for my next English class, I heard a knock on the door. It was a man and woman who had come to talk about God. I let them in with my broken Korean, and we proceeded to have a friendly conversation. The man was quite aggressive and convinced me to visit their church. Then right before they left, they asked where I was from. I replied that I was Korean American. This was purely for educational purposes as I was eager to practice my Korean. You see, at the time, my Korean wasn't impressive enough for people to take me seriously if I had told them that I wasn't Korean. So the following week, I was driven off in a white van to meet the pastor.

There, I was engaged with more lengthy but friendly conversation. We talked about my family, how my fake Korean parents had moved to Atlanta when I was young, and how I had come back to improve my Korean language skills. Then we went to business.

“A good Christian is one who makes a commitment by receiving baptism. He can then begin his true relationship with God.”

The woman, who had lived in the States, translated the difficult words for me in English.

“We do not begin a relationship with God first and then become baptized. We are baptized first and then begin our relationship with God. Making this commitment is like signing a contract. We sign this contract, we begin our relationship, and then we can enter heaven.”

I nodded.

“When would you like to go to heaven? In a week? A month? A year? Or how about now?”

The woman stopped translating. She tells the pastor that she believes I am understanding, and suggested that they wait for my answer.

“Now!” I said, attempting to amuse.

“Very good.”

Before I knew it, I was led to a bathroom, changed into a blue robe, and poured water over my head. My eyes closed, I repeated after the pastor in prayer. Afterwards, my name was entered into the church’s official bible and I was part of the family.

“Now that you've taken this large step in your faith, we would like you to join in our services and help us teach our youth the ways of Christ.”

I agreed. Later, I realized that the pastor’s actual question was: “When would you like to be baptized so that you can enter heaven? In a week? A month? A year? Or how about now?” The very next week, I moved to Seoul with a new job. Fortunately, I have not been back to the church since, as I later learned that it was a member of a then growing cult that shared similarities with the Unification Church.