THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 7, 1996 TAG: 9604030057
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ESTHER DISKIN, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 117 lines
Their Christmas gift was something they've come to understand as a test of their faith. At the time, it felt like a curse.
On Christmas night, just hours after members of Peninsula Korean Baptist Church in Newport News gathered for a morning prayer service, they returned to the charred ruin of their spiritual home.
A fire, apparently caused by problems with electrical wiring, had destroyed their fellowship hall and parts of their sanctuary.
Firefighters estimated the damage at more than $600,000, but also lost was a piece of history. The church, founded as a mission in 1974, was the first Korean Baptist church in Virginia and the first ethnic congregation in Virginia to have its own building.
This Easter season, the 300 families in the congregation are taking the first steps toward rebuilding. As they begin, they are thinking about what this trial has taught them so far and about what lies ahead.
``People become stronger through adversity,'' said Michael Holland, a deacon of the church. ``You don't build confidence by good things always happening to you. Sometimes you have to fail and pull yourself out of it.''
For years, the church has been the gathering place for an Easter sunrise service held jointly by Tidewater's 18 Korean churches, representing a range of Christian denominations. The service usually draws 500 to 700 people, who stay for a church-sponsored breakfast afterward.
This year, the church is again hosting the open-air service - with the offering dedicated to the church's rebuilding fund - but Pastor David K. Kim regretfully says breakfast may be just doughnuts and coffee. The church kitchen, which had enough elbow room for four cooks, was burned in the fire.
Kim says he'll strive for a sermon that sparks the community for the task ahead. ``I'd like to have a revival service every day,'' he said. ``If the Lord is with me, I can do anything.''
At 42, only three years into his stint as the church's pastor, Kim has a challenge that few ministers face in a long career. Kim came to the United States in 1986, after studying at the Korean Baptist Theological Seminary in Taejeon, South Korea, and many of his congregants are newcomers to America. Some work two or three jobs to make ends meet. Donating money for a new church will be a hardship for these families, Kim says.
And attendance at services has fallen off slightly since the congregation began meeting in the gym of a mega-church, several miles away. Kim says that's to be expected, given the distance and the strange place.
He's heartened by an unexpected rise in attendance at his 5:30 a.m. daily prayer vigils, which have a special focus on rebuilding the church. These days, he gets about 30 people.
Kim lives his life in the orbit of the fire's destruction. His office is in the Mission Center, a two-story building only a few yards from the church. The parsonage, where he lives with his wife and two children, is next door. Neither building was damaged in the fire.
Every morning, Kim circles the church's brick walls, striding past the caved-in roof, a heap of choir robes and sodden sheet music, and a rusted file cabinet lying on the grass. Church officials hope to get the insurance settled and city building permits this month, but until they do, nothing can be cleared away or restored.
The walk has a practical purpose - Kim needs to check for vandalism or further collapse. But he also takes the time for his own private prayer. ``I pray every day,'' he said. ``When I look at the church, it's a lot of pressure to me.''
In the meantime, Kim does his best to make the gym at Temple Baptist Church feel like a place built for worship. Sure, there's a hoop hanging in the back and basketball markings on the all-purpose gray carpet. The windows are covered by steel cages. Everyone sits on metal folding chairs.
``I'm not so comfortable,'' admits Chun Cha Crawford, a shy, older woman who has been coming to the church for 16 years. ``We're very appreciative to them. But it's not our home.''
But when Kim steps up to the podium and starts his sermon in sonorous Korean, drawing a fervent response from the nearly 200 people at his second Sunday morning service, the place starts to feel like a church. Add the soaring voices of the choir and the basketball hoop almost vanishes.
``You can worship God anywhere,'' says Holland, the deacon. Still, he says, his Korean-born wife and other Koreans miss some of the cultural signs that made their own church feel like a refuge. When they saw Bible verses posted in Korean, ``it gave them a settling feeling. It was home,'' he said.
In one way, he said, the fire has given Koreans a greater sense of belonging in the wider community. Many of them, hindered by language and cultural barriers, never lose the feeling that they are foreigners in America - even after they earn their citizenship.
After the fire, the congregation was inundated with offers of help from churches across the region. Many offered them space to worship. Others sent money and volunteered work crews for when the church starts rebuilding.
Church members were surprised and moved by the outpouring, he said. ``This has reinforced how Koreans look at America - what a great country this is. . .
All that has given Kim hope that the church may not only rebuild, but create something bigger. He imagines a day when the church lot will have a Korean community center, including many classrooms and a gym, so teen-agers will see the place as a gathering point.
This season, he is focused on rekindling the community's spirit. ``We never had conflict in our church, but after the fire, we are praying more together,'' he said.
``People are getting more strong in their belief.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photos
BILL TIERNAN/The Virginian-Pilot
Choir member Suk Hee Cahoon of Newport News, above, sings during
Palm Sunday at the Peninsula Korean Baptist Church service at the
Temple Baptist Church, where the congregation and pastor David K.
Kim have been meeting since their church burned down, below.
Photos
JIM WALKER/The Virginian-Pilot\ ``I'd like to have a revival
service every day,'' says Pastor David K. Kim. ``If the Lord is with
me, I can do anything.''
by CNB