The Korean Pentecost's Beauty and Complexity

The awakening of the church in Korea, particularly through the work of Presbyterian missionaries, is a story that has stirred my heart this year. I have been struck by the awe of what God has done (and is still doing) in that region. Yet the explosion of Christianity in Korea did not come without its challenges. William Blair & Bruce F. Hunt’s first-hand account of this narrative in their book, The Korean Pentecost and the Sufferings Which Followed, details what led to such a move of God along with its aftermath. This little text could be the most moving missionary testimony I have encountered so far. Read their words for a glimpse into this moment in missionary history.

With the guidance of Blair, Hunt, and a few others, I wish to explore the preconditions and implications of this beautiful explosion of God’s grace on the Korean Church during the late 19th century and early 20th century while also dialoguing about its tensions with national politics. Meaningful insights into missions and how western Christians think through the complexities of the conversion of entire people groups can be had. There is much to gain by exploring God’s movement amongst this people while also recognizing the expected struggles.  

The Korean Pentecost

It was January of 1907, and Korean Christians were engaging in what has now become famously associated with their explosion: prayer. To start the year, most Christians in Korea would hold services for up to two weeks bathing the new year in prayer and Bible study. As this was going on nationwide, foreign missionaries and church leaders would gather centrally in Pyongyang to hold a conference which involved the same activities. This consecration at the beginning of the new year was no irregular event; it was the consistent posture and practice of a people newly penetrated by the God of the Gospel. 

What happened the next few evenings has been coined by many to be “the Korean Pentecost.” William Blair, an American missionary who documented this history and was influential in the Korean Church movement, describes what he saw after the first sermon and call to prayer. He says the sights and sounds of the people praying were “indescribable—not confusion, but a vast harmony of sound and spirit, a mingling together of souls moved by an irresistible impulse of prayer...an ocean of prayer beating against God’s throne” (The Korean Pentecost, 83). The next night the Holy Spirit outdid the night before: “Then began a meeting the like of which I had never seen before, nor wish to see again unless in God’s sight it is absolutely necessary. Every sin a human being can commit was publicly confessed that night...We may have our theories of the desirability or undesirability of public confession of sin. I have had mine; but I know now that when the Spirit of God falls upon guilty souls, there will be confession, and no power on earth can stop it” (The Korean Pentecost, 86-87). 

This gospel empowered awakening in the pew to sin and the urge to be freed from its bondage did not dry out with the tears on their cheeks. Blair remarks:

Repentance was by no means confined to confession and tears. Peace waited upon reparation, wherever reparation was possible. We had our hearts torn again and again during those days by the return of little articles and money that had been stolen from us during the years. lt hurt so to see them grieve. All through the city men were going from house to house, confessing to individuals they had injured, returning stolen property and money, not only to Christians but to heathen as well, till the whole city was stirred (The Korean Pentecost, 88).

These Spirit-filled believers, with their fruits of repentance, went back to their churches and spread this storm of gospel power that had so drenched them. The Korean Church’s internal and external growth exploded as a result. Pyongyang, the sight of the initial awakening (now the capital of North Korea), was eventually called the “Jerusalem of the East” because of how many Christian institutions popped up there. The nation itself was swept by a wave of Koreans joining the kingdom of God.

Preconditions for Gospel Advancement

Over a decade before the overt revival, the consistent work of the gospel was beginning to show signs of real harvest. A missionary in 1895 reported that “The situation in Korea seems to be changing. The people, so long indifferent, seem to show signs of awakening.” This new success on the ground was due to the mobilization of native Christians in taking the initiative on evangelism while the missionaries focused on the follow-up. By God’s grace, the Korean Christians, who outnumbered the missionaries significantly, began to spread the gospel quickly and effectively. Missionaries would go behind and ensure real discernment on these conversions was made. In other words, the native Christians focused on breadth while the missionaries focused on depth. 

A feature less explored in the Korean church movement is the restraint of early missionaries to dominate the religious culture of those they were attempting to convert. Sung-Deuk Oak, in his book The Making of Korean Christianity: Protestant Encounters with Korean Religions, 1876–1915, makes the case that the missionaries were sensitive to the Korean people’s religious culture without compromising their conservative theological values. There is a glimpse of this appreciation in Blair’s account early on (The Korean Pentecost, 16-17); Samuel Moffet, an early missionary, bears this emphasis out as well by his attempt to first identify with the indigenous people before moving onto converting them. He reported in 1894: “I am situated just at present as I have long wished to be: in direct contact with the people, living in the midst of them every day and all day, entering into their lives and having them enter into mine (however in ways not very easy to endure).” As Moffet notes there at the end, this mutual osmosis of each other’s cultures was tough work, but it paid off in penetrating to the soul of the people. The kindling for such a mighty move of God in Korea was found in the brickwork of these early missionaries.

The Aftermath of an Awakening

As noted above, there were early signs of God’s blessing on the Korean mission initiative that led to a great foundation for a forthcoming move of the Spirit. The people were not bulldozed by Western culture, and the indigenous converts were on the front lines of kingdom expansion while the missionaries were playing the role of Barnabas and Paul in Antioch (Acts 11:19-26). These simple to say yet hard to accomplish missionary tactics paved the way for a movement of God to flourish. Now, we shift to the implications of this “Korean Pentecost” after the fact. 

There were practical theological guardrails that helped keep such an explosive move of God from deviating into something that was not done “decently and in order” (1 Cor. 14:40). The influx of new converts did not receive rushed baptisms; These new Christians were catechized anywhere from six months to two years before baptism. This culture of catechizing and promoting doctrinal maturity laid the foundation for a sustainable and developed infrastructure for converts to grow deep roots in the church. 

Another crucial factor in ensuring a unified, mature church in the midst of unprecedented growth was the attention given to training and ordaining indigenous pastors. Institutions were established to provide theological training for those in church leadership and even a Bible school more broadly. Here is an example of institutional Christianity working to support a Christian movement. The move of the Spirit blazes forward while the institutional infrastructure follows behind to put pavement on the trails. Training and ordaining Korean pastors ensured that the vast expansion of Korean churches had both the quantity and quality of shepherds necessary to feed them solid food. These wise decisions by the leaders of the Korean church movement and the willingness to generally follow them by the budding church members was vital in the sustainability of Christianity's mature growth in the nation of Korea. 

Mixing Water With Oil?

A factor that both aided and complicated the growth of the church and its newfound power in numbers and subculture in Korea was the complexity of the concept of nation and/or nationalism. The factor of nation must be engaged in the pioneering work of missions, especially in a case such as this where the Christian church becomes a major block of society so quickly. Is the concept of nation incompatible with Christianity? Does Christianity have to separate its influence from the shaping of a nation? How does the Korean Church handle these questions? In short, is mixing nationhood and the Christian movement in Korea like mixing oil and water? 

The Benefits of a Fallible Nation

First, it is important to point out the openness to the gospel that the idolatry of nationhood can bring when it is shattered.  The pride of a people can tend to turn into idolatry rather naturally. J.H. Bavinck, commenting on tribalism, though I think his comments can apply to nationalism as well, makes this observation: “As found throughout the world, tribes are in serious danger of falling into collective self-deification. The tribe feels that it is descended from divine ancestors and it is therefore a part of the mysterious divine unity of all things” (An Introduction to the Science of Missions, 163). “Self-deification” was definitely the case in the pride of Korean culture before the Japanese occupation in the period leading up to the “Korean Pentecost.” 

God’s grace, though unknown to the Korean people at the time, came bursting forth in the cutting of their nation at the knees by the Japanese. When caught in the middle of war and more powerful adversaries, Korea realized much of their national pride was destroyed. Japan had come and conquered. The despair of watching your seemingly unshakable nation be shook to the foundations leaves an insecure whole in the heart of life. This was the condition God put the Korean people in to turn their souls toward him. Blair explains:

The simple truth is that the Koreans are a broken-hearted people. Corrupt and unworthy as their old government was, nevertheless they loved it, and all the more, no doubt, in proportion as it seems to be taken away from them. It is pitiable to see them grieve, to see strong men weep over national loss. They come to us and say, ‘is there any country so poor, so unfortunate as ours?’ But it means much that their eyes are open. Formerly, they were proud and arrogant; they were ‘wretched and miserable and poor blind and naked,’ and knew it not. Now, with respect to this world, at least, they know just where they stand. They know they are despised and rejected. The arrow had entered Korea’s soul. Her spirit was broken. For years now she has been sitting in the dust, mourning not only her present misfortunes, but her past sins. Over just such a stricken people has God so often stretched out his hands in blessing. By brokenness of spirit Korea has been prepared for the gospel, and when a further work of God’s Spirit was manifested the Scripture was again fulfilled: ‘The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise (The Korean Pentecost, 22).

So, in one sense, Christianity was aided by nationalism in using its false hope to open blind eyes. 

Christianity and Nationhood Living Together

Just prior to the “Korean Pentecost,” the issue facing the American and Korean leadership of the Presbyterian Church was the issue of when to hand over the General Assembly (leadership) solely to the Koreans thus creating an independent Korean Church. This tension was solved by the movement of God in the Pyongyang revival (Korean Pentecost). After that, the issue facing the church was the converging of political unrest and newly found Christian power. As a frustrated people, Koreans were now ready to push back against their Japanese oppressors. Where was the Church, now a major institution in Korea, supposed to involve or not involve itself? 

The growth of the Church meant the growth of Christians in political and cultural leadership. No matter what political direction Korea went at that time, it could have been called “Christian” simply because of the dominance of Christians in leadership. Therefore, from the outside, the desire and push for independence and full nationhood were seen as fruits of the Christian roots. The production and signing of a declaration of independence from Japan in 1919, with one-third of the signatures by prominent Christians, consequently identified this struggle with Christian influence. The Japanese government was determined to root out political independence in Korea through the forceful reinstituting of Shinto ancestor worship that scrubbed Korea of its new Christian awakening. Much of the following persecution of the church by the Japanese military in Korea during this time was due to the mix of politics and religion. Christians were tortured for their participation in political emancipation (an issue Scripture does not address directly) and ancestor worship (a clear violation of biblical faith); these two issues were tied together.

This conflation led to many burdens for the young Church in Korea to bear. Issues of federal and private schooling, separation of church and state, and so on became dilemmas that bogged down the vitality of the church even though they were necessary to think through. During this period, a missionary named Harriet Pollard described the strain these dilemmas were causing in the church:

So much time and thought were given to this question (private schooling) and so much vitality was consumed that spiritual loss to the native Church was inevitable. The mental strain undoubtedly shortened the lives of some of the most devoted men in the Mission and injured the health of others as the number of deaths and resignation of this period indicate (The History of the Missionary Enterprise of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. in Korea with Special Emphasis on the Personnel, 111).

The muddying of unclear challenges faced in the political realm with the clearly unChristian concept of ancestor worship was hard to miss. The church needed to resist blatant idolatry, but did it need to follow American Christendom’s path of civil disobedience and emancipation? The historical answer to those questions can be found in Blair and Hunt’s account. It was a dark time for the nation of Korea as its people, including the church, walked through such political turmoil.

Observations for Christian Mission

I do not wish to provide specific practical outworkings; I would rather like to offer a few observations. I am not a missionary, and I do not think practical points will be helpful from my perspective. What could be useful is attempting to highlight where things got tangled and how to think biblically about such entanglements. We can graciously learn from the movements of the past as we deal with the present, particularly, thinking through the messy but necessary interaction between Christian essentials and socio-political preferences, the gospel and Western Culture.

At the start, there must be an acknowledgement that to convert a people is to affect a nation. The idea that Christianity will not or should not permeate the community outside of the walls of the sanctuary is unrealistic. We should expect the convergence of these things. Because of the size and speed of the growth of the church in Korea, the nation itself was being discipled, and this comes with responsibilities. Andrew Walls writes:

If a nation is to be discipled, the commanding heights of a nation’s life have to be opened to the influence of Christ; for Christ has redeemed human life in its entirety. Conversion to Christ does not isolate the convert from his or her community; it begins the conversion of that community. Conversion to Christ does not produce a bland universal citizenship: it produces distinctive discipleships, as diverse and variegated as human life itself. Christ in redeeming humanity brings, by the process of discipleship, all the richness of humanity’s infinitude of cultures and subcultures into the variegated splendour of the Full Grown Humanity to which the apostolic literature points (cf. Eph. 4:8-13). This means that the influence of Christ is brought to bear on the points of reference in each group. The points of reference are the things by which people know their identity and know where, and to whom, they belong. Discipling a nation involves Christ entry into the nation’s thought. The patterns of relationship within that nation, the way the society hangs together, the way decisions are made (The Missionary Movement in Christian History, 51).

Every part of the culture, nation, community, and individual is touched by the inbreaking kingdom of Christ.

The implications for this reality in a newly evangelized nation like Korea are massive. First, the process of penetrating the nation in this all-encompassing way will not happen in the first or even second generation of converts; it will be a multi-generational process. To expect the Korean church to work out these entanglements in such an early stage is naïve and arrogant. Second, the political and cultural direction of a newly evangelized culture and nation should not be a carbon-copy of the West. The Gospel is growing in new spaces and will respond to new challenges that the Western church should not expect that they have already settled. Walls is so helpful on this point: “In consequence, the Christian expression in that ‘nation’ will take a distinctive shape, have a distinctive set of priorities and concerns; because the word about Christ is accordingly forever meeting new situations, going into conditions Christians have never experienced before” (The Missionary Movement in Christian History, 51). The Korean Church needed to hold to explicit biblical convictions while working out more complex matters of nation and politics without feeling like it had to tow the line of American/European Christendom. 

One of the hardest paragraphs to swallow in The Korean Pentecost was the potential result of the conflation of Western democracy with explicit biblical commands. The perplexity around private schooling had trickled into the debate on required Shinto worship. A persecuted pastor, Mr. Yoonsup, was arrested and tortured many times over this issue, yet one tactic employed seemed more powerful than the beatings. Hunt writes:

At other times the police resorted to kindly talk, and sought to reason him into bowing. ‘Christianity was a Western religion’ and Westerners were not as strict about keeping God’s commandments as they expected Orientals to be, or even as demanding as Kim was of himself, they argued. Also many Christians, including some missionaries and ministers, saw nothing wrong in Shinto worship. Even the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, the leaders of the Seventh Day Adventist Church, and the Vatican itself, had approved of it. Did he think he was the only good Christian in the world? (The Korean Pentecost, 140).

In the West, issues such as private schooling and political preference were tertiary, but in Korea, the essentials had not been clearly distinguished from the non-essentials. On top of this, the liberalizing of many denominations in the U.S. and Europe began to downplay the exclusivity of Christianity; How would a Korean who is being tortured for their rejection of idol worship in the name of Christ feel to hear Western leaders proclaiming its no big deal to synchronize the gospel with idolatry? The laxity of the American Church and the conflation of western political values could cause the weakening of our persecuted brethren. By God’s grace, Mr. Yoonsup saw beyond the devil’s fog. May others do the same. 

Gospel Advancement is Worth the Struggle

In the end, the complexities that come with the rapid expansion and evangelization of a people are problems we should want to have. God’s grace in saving so many so quickly in Korea should be cause for worship, and it is the privilege of God’s saints to work hard in the uncertainty of where these sorts of movements lead. The first principles of the early missionaries, identifying with the people and propelling them to the front lines, was a fruitful strategy. The Pentecost in Pyongyang was a gift from the Spirit, and the trials in its aftermath were worth it. The Gospel infects nations, systems, structures, and societies through individuals who have been converted. Of course, this impact does not come without its usual infusion of earthly power structures. In the case of the Korean Church Awakening, the avalanche of conversions led to an overload of influence. If mission movements produce such a rapid awakening in other nations, missionaries should prepare those indigenous converts to steward this Gospel permeation well by separating political policy from essential doctrine and avoiding the projection of Western culture onto the fundamentals of the faith. May God bring more “Pentecosts” to earth along with the wisdom to shepherd the aftermath.