Life and death

By Bernard Rowan

Korean culture values life. The joy that families and friends show at Korean weddings, often lavish and expensive but always wonderful celebrations of family unity, comes to mind. Despite a low birthrate, each baby boy or girl born brings another life that carries the promise to forward Korea's traditions. Korean people continue to advance and share in life's improvement for the good of your society and the world.

Now's the Christmas season. We also prepare for a new calendar year, and Lunar New Year follows. However, this column discusses my experience as a foreigner of how Koreans approach life's passing, of death. Let's remind ourselves of life's beauty, including the part of natural mortality. Nothing on earth is forever. That's not the way our egos like it, but we should accept it to join life more fully.

How do Koreans celebrate a person's death? I will speak from my experience. First, Korean funerals and memorials take on a solemn and stark tone. Many American funerals celebrate the deceased person's life. When my friend's father-in-law passed, he had defined duties as the oldest male in the family, which extended to taking part in leading the cremation. I didn't join in the funeral and memorial events but have attended other funerals. Korean funerals depend on many reasons, including the fame or relative notoriety of the person, where the person passed away, and the person's religion.

I think that like most peoples, Koreans prefer that hospice occur in the home, and there is a strong emphasis on close relatives, such as spouses and children, being near to the declining family member. Past and present, Koreans symbolize protecting the person's spirit. To my mind, it represents the wish to avoid loneliness of a most solemn variety at life's end.

Funerals mirror weddings in many ways. Presenting oneself with dignity, leaving an offering, buying flowers, sharing in a meal, and showing respect. Special methods and rituals concern the body's preparation. I'm not just speaking of embalming. These reflect the religion or family custom of the deceased.

However, the Korean funeral takes on a stark and formal quality. The deceased person's picture is often present. People bow to the coffin or funeral display. Mourning may last for three years. Associated rituals (jesa) remind a family of their relative, even as their lives move on. To my mind, these traditions and practices enforce continuity and respect among generations about family and life's impermanence.

During the funeral rights, Koreans may wear clothes of rough-hewn hemp or black color, or wear an armband to represent mourning. Circumstances dictate much: visitation occurs in a hospital, at a family home, or at a church.

It's an honor to attend a Korean funeral, just like a wedding or other family event. My advice says it's easiest to mimic what others do. But mind social position. Do what others placed like you do. Don't draw attention to yourself. What seems different or strange means you're paying attention. Approach a Korean funeral or family memorial for the good of the family. It also can teach you about Korean culture, society and traditions. Let your friend be your guide in knowing what to do and when to do it. Regard carefully the main participants' actions.

The person's ashes return to the earth in various ways. However, I hear of friends returning their loved ones to family places near their family's hometown or birthplace. Maybe you'll visit the family's "mountain" or special place for burials. Hillside and mountainside plots, often distant from Seoul or other major cities, stand as memorials and places for harmony. They remind me of cemeteries, but in more natural settings. Families return on Chuseok or Korean Thanksgiving.

We can say traditional cemeteries burden scarce land stocks in Gangnam and other places. However, I wonder. Humanity continues its consumption fetish, but it's good that Koreans keep valuable and important lands for the dead. These vistas make us remember our mortality. They honor those on whose lives we build our own.

One action that characterizes funerals in many cultures, including Korea, is the emotionality of family members. It's not easy to see wailing or outbursts of sadness. Crying shows awareness of personal responsibility for the deceased. As a means of getting our feelings out, Korean family members likely express what we feel. I'm not a fan of crying, but it's healthy ― especially when a loved one passes away.

We come into life. We shall pass away. December is a season of light. The faithful expect many future blessings. The last weeks of 2014 unfold. The experience of death says that life is precious. It's a clue to the value we place on family, friendship, and love.

Author's note: I wrote this column to honor my father-in-law, Yang San Wu, who passed this week. He was a good father, husband, and friend to me.

Bernard Rowan is assistant provost for curriculum and assessment, professor of political science and faculty athletics representative at Chicago State University, where he has served for 21 years. Write him at browan10@yahoo.com.