c. 2006 Religion News Service

BRECKSVILLE, Ohio _ Han Young Lee makes demands on his No. 1 son, Eugene.

He must work hard in school as well as in the family business. He also should keep the faith and values of his Korean heritage _ all tough expectations on a 21-year-old college student.

But they’re part of an ancient tradition the senior Lee lives by, even in a strange land where the generation gap so often becomes a deep chasm between parents and children as U.S.-born children tend to abandon old-world ways.

Father and son remain close, and Eugene has embraced his father’s work ethic, devotion to family, fluency in Korean and religious commitment. Often they worship together at the Korean United Methodist Church in Canton, Ohio.

But the Rev. Paul Kim, associate professor of Hebrew Bible at the Methodist Theological School in Ohio has what he calls a “big question”: “what’s next?” How many other Eugene Lees are there?

He means: Will a young generation of Westernized Koreans in baggy cargo shorts and T-shirts remain loyal to religious institutions that, to their parents and grandparents, function as Korean cultural anchors as well as spiritual centers?

Changing habits and lifestyles weave a common thread among the estimated 1.4 million Koreans living in the U.S. (mostly South Koreans; North Korea is a totalitarian state and doesn’t permit free emigration). Part of what makes their situation special is the central role Christian churches have played in the lives of many immigrants.

Kim joked about a popular notion among Koreans: When Chinese immigrate to the United States, “they open restaurants,” he said. Koreans? “They open churches.”

Among South Koreans in their native land, about 30 percent who profess religious affiliation are Christians; the proportion is higher for those who move to the United States.

Many on the Korean peninsula embraced Western religion in the late 19th and early 20th centuries when Western missionaries flocked there. Historically, religious Koreans had been Buddhists, Confucians or what scholars refer to as members of shamanistic cultures, which teach that certain priests, or shamans, can influence the good and bad spirits that hover around human societies.

Immigrant Korean-Americans often say their religious heritage was a factor in their decision to relocate, along with economic and educational opportunities.

But Korean churches around Greater Cleveland reflect unexpected consequences of the dramatic move from Asian Rim to American heartland.

John Dong-Gook Roh, a consultant to Korean Disciples of Christ churches who works out of the denomination’s headquarters in Indianapolis, said congregations have to sort out a multitude of language and cultural issues.

First-generation Korean-Americans prefer services as they were in the old country. “Generation 1.5, (the) children who come here with their parents,” have “a dual culture,” Roh said. They’re reasonably fluent in both languages and cultures but “become more American by the day.”

For some ethnic Koreans born here, including Han Young Lee’s three sons, interest in things Korean may wane. “That’s why many churches have two services, one in Korean, one in English,” Roh said.

Such is the case at Korean Central Presbyterian Church here, the area’s largest congregation with about 140 families as members. A recent 9:45 a.m. service attracted about 50 mostly teenagers and young adults and a smattering of older members. Sermon, announcements and songs were in English.

The 11 a.m. service packed more than 200 people, from young couples with small children to 80-year-olds, into the sanctuary. A white-robed choir sang hymns familiar to most Protestants _ but in Korean.

Only a small portion of the service used English, including a children’s sermon. The Rev. Joshua Kim, the church’s pastor, said the two-service pattern was common.

“First-generation immigrants want children to learn Korean,” he said, but follow-through is spotty. Busy kids find other activities to occupy their time instead of mastering a tough language with an even tougher written form.

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Han Young Lee, who immigrated to Ohio in the early ’80s as a shoe repairman, is happy that Eugene, a fourth-year pre-dental student, keeps the old ways. This summer, the young man helped piece together the family’s new venture, a Korean and Japanese restaurant.

Eugene said his stint at the restaurant made this “the longest summer of my life” and sometimes had him up till 7 a.m. cutting meat, building shelves and moving appliances.

Though he was born in the States, the young Lee still carries the values of what Roh called “Generation 1.5.” He has studied the Korean language for years, has visited his parents’ homeland since he was a boy and has stayed with relatives in Seoul, attending an academy to learn to write Korean.

“I go to church at my family’s church” where services are in Korean, he said. “Who I am and where I came from is important to me.”

But his younger brothers, 19 and 8?

“They’re a lot less interested than I am,” he confessed.

KRE/JL END BENTAYOU

(Frank Bentayou writes for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland.)

Editors: To obtain photos from Korean Central Presbyterian Church, go to the RNS Web site at https://religionnews.com. On the lower right, click on “photos,” then search by subject or slug.