Inmates in South Korea came to know Jesus as their savior while awaiting their executions.
By Fr. Charles O’Rourke

There were always lots of inquiries: “Does God love everyone, even me?” “How can God forgive me?” “What is the meaning of my life?” But these weren’t questions from typical Catholic parishioners; these were death-row prisoners in Korea, many sentenced to death for murder, yearning to learn their purpose in life.

It was during my time in the early 1970s in a parish in Seoul, South Korea’s capital, that I visited these death-row inmates in a large prison. Every Friday morning, I would be led by a Catholic prison guard to a tiny room deep in the prison’s interior to speak to these men. I think the guard acted on his own to give me access to the room. It made it possible for me to visit many men in one day, because the prisoners did not have to go through any security doors to be with me.

It was in this room that we used to sit and chat about their lives, and they would always ask me questions about what I was doing. After that, we would read stories from the New Testament.

I was amazed at their insight into the Scripture passages and how they would relate that to their own lives: Stories like the Prodigal Son and the two penitent women along with Mary of Bethany were very appealing to them. They were impressed not only by the forgiveness shown to them, but the deep gratitude the women showed Our Lord. It gave these condemned men a real faith experience of God’s mercy and love and made them conscious of the gratitude they should be expressing to God.

“I met God for the first time in my life,” said one prisoner. “I have found true peace, and my life has been turned around, thank God,” said another.

Murderers & Spies
Some of these men were on death row for murder, while others were condemned for Communist activities or for teaching Communist philosophy and anti-government activities — they were spies from North Korea.

John Pak, a prisoner convicted for murder, was baptized in prison, having received inspiration and instruction from the Catholic prison guard. While John was on death row, he and the guard were responsible for the baptism of some 40 death row inmates. The zeal of these two men was phenomenal. I saw three or four of these 40 men, in rotation, each weekend during my visits.

One of these baptized inmates was a North Korean, just 21 years old when I met him, who took the baptized name of Matthew.

This energetic and highly motivated man told me how he had found his peace in this world by coming to South Korea, being convicted of spying and being imprisoned.

Matthew always spoke his mind and became very committed to his faith in God.

At that time, a South Korean bishop was imprisoned in this same prison for his involvement in confronting societal injustices. This upset Matthew.

Matthew felt the Catholic inmates should rise up and protest vehemently the injustice of their bishop being imprisoned. He stopped coming to talk with me and continually refused Holy Communion in protest when I visited. It was only after several months that he would talk to me and receive the Eucharist again.

He explained his position, and stubbornly rejected my rebuttal of his argument, so I let it rest. I had great respect for him and could see his side of the issue. I came to understand how qualified he was to become a spy!

One Friday morning, things were suddenly different. I was told I could not go in. The prison was executing some of my prison friends that day. I was told that if I could wait an hour or so, I could go to the cemetery for the burial. That, I did. About 10 men were executed that morning.

We followed the truck carrying the bodies to the cemetery, and we buried them one at a time. Parishioners from a nearby parish, also active in the prison apostolate, helped with the burial.

The sudden loss of these men, my friends, left me with sudden, deep feelings of sadness and loss. Friends asked me questions such as, “What did you expect when you agreed to this ministry?”

That is true, of course, and I had to work through my emotions and come to appreciate all I had learned and experienced from those men. I hope I have learned to be more open and nonjudgmental of everyone I meet.

These men stole Heaven and found peace with their maker! So, there was a sense of accomplishment as well as loss and sadness. Their life had been snuffed out, but they came to know God in the end and, by their repentance, good example and prayers, they had achieved great things in the way of miracles of grace for those left behind.

Columban Father Charles O’Rourke of Council Bluffs, Iowa, was ordained in 1957. He has served on mission in both Korea and the United States, including an assignment among Catholic Korea immigrants in Los Angeles. He is now assigned to the Columbans’ U.S. Region headquarters in St. Columbans, Nebraska.