An interview with Bishop Dubong Renato, the first bishop of the Andong Diocese who dedicated himself to the weak in Korea, was conducted on Feb. 17. On the 10th of last month, less than two months later, Bishop Dubong passed away from a stroke. His last interview, as always, was filled with laughter and love. Although we met as reporter and interviewee, I asked and listened to him as one of the many people who sought him out nationwide every day, without any special procedure or formality.
Bishop Dubong began living in Korea in 1954, right after the Korean War ended, and has been here for over 70 years. He served as a bishop in the Andong Diocese in North Gyeongsang Province and has been living in Bongyang-myeon, Uiseong County, for 20 years. Bongyang-myeon is a remote village on the border between Uiseong and Gunwi. Bishop Dubong grows a small garden in front of his house and shares the harvest with the villagers.
Upon arriving at the red-brick rectory, a 97-year-old man came out to greet me personally. He explained that since the cook had slipped on the snowy path and was unable to prepare the meal, he led me to a nearby restaurant.
“I don’t know what they’ll serve at the restaurant. I never know. Let’s just go.” The short bishop, smiling as he led the way, looked like a mascot guarding the village. Sitting around a cylindrical table, we devoured a tasty breakfast of soybean paste stew, grilled mackerel, and mountain herbs. The restaurant owner smiled broadly at the checkout, saying, “The bishop paid early on.” It’s a mystery from which country comes the arithmetic allowing such generous feeding of those with no connection or chances to meet again.
He mentioned that more people visit after appearing on the entertainment program ‘You Quiz’. Buddhist monks, Protestant believers, children, youths, couples, and the elderly all visit. Many also come unannounced. Bishop Dubong makes time to meet these visitors.
The living room floor of the rectory was bright with sunlight. Bishop Dubong said he conducts Mass by using a small table as an altar. He wears the Mass vestments and conducts Mass alone without an altar server.
He doesn’t ask the visitors if they believe in Jesus. The visitors usually confide their hardships and difficulties in making a living. Just by talking, crying, and laughing, people find great comfort before they leave.
Moreover, Bishop Dubong’s laughter has a unique motor. Kulkulkul, puh-puh-puh, hahaha. His laughter breezily fills the air with transparent beads of sunlight. His frequent loud laughter is infectious, making even those with serious expressions lighten and join in with beaming smiles.
Acknowledging that problems and conflicts exist, they leave with the assurance that the well of joy doesn’t run dry, feeling encouraged.
- It seems that joy always overflows for you, Bishop.
“I’m happy, yes. I live happily.”
- Why do so many people visit you even though they are not Catholic?
“I don’t tell people to attend church. I don’t give advice like that. I just listen when they share their situations. I pray for them if they ask, and if they share good news, I clap strongly. But at some point, people started leaving money. If I refuse, they say it’s not for me, but to be shared with those in need. I don’t even know the names of the people who give money. When it accumulates to several million won, it sometimes reaches tens of millions.”
- Where does that money go?
“It finds its right path perfectly. Some households seem fine on the surface but are struggling. People inform me too, like a household head suffering from a serious illness or a failed business... I give to those in need who come by. Since I don’t know who gave, I tell the recipients not to mention me either. The money flows mysteriously without anyone knowing. Without any plans. Ahaha.”
- Without any plans…?
“Yes, it fits together strangely well. There are so many kind-hearted people in the world.”
The simple rectory, composed of a cozy living room and a few small rooms, was filled with spiritual warmth. Sunlight poured in and spread through the air's tiny veins. The yard visible through the glass walls was idle, waiting for crops to be planted, and the aroma of coffee brewed by the elderly bishop instead of wine reached my nose, giving a fragrant sensation.
Every time he stretched his long arms into the air, the arcs drawn by his movements were large and broad.
“Have some snacks and coffee.”
There was no heaven beyond this.
Bishop Dubong loved the rural village where he had put down roots and its residents without discrimination. The elderly woman who lived across the street when he arrived 20 years ago has since passed away ten years ago, and now her house is home to a Joseonjok husband and a Vietnamese wife with their 4-year-old daughter.
“It seems like another child will come along soon, but I don’t know. AHA.”
Though neither were Catholic, the 50-year-old bachelor village head and Vietnamese woman got married with Bishop Dubong officiating. For the Vietnamese bride’s family who didn’t know Korean, he wrote ‘love, patience, kindness’ in big letters in Vietnamese on a large piece of paper to show the guests.
“This means love, which means I die for you. This means patience, which also means I die for you… When I read this out loud, everyone burst into laughter. The ceremony turned into a sea of laughter.”
Bishop Dubong beamed again. He shared village news, stating that after the Vietnamese wife converted to Catholicism and prayed every morning and evening, her husband also decided to join the catechumenate. The village, he said, gathered love, patience, and kindness.
“In France, I lived with my mom and dad, uncle, five siblings, and cousins aged 5 and 7. Growing up amid seven children, I learned to understand others’ positions well. My father contracted malaria during World War I, so our household struggled financially. We mostly attended only primary school, and I was the only one to attend high school.
In senior year philosophy class, we learned about all religions in the world, like Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. Touched by the words and personality of Jesus, I raised my hands high. Haha. The pillars of love and happiness learned in those days became the compass for my life. Shallow love brings shallow happiness. The greatest love, where you give your life for your neighbor, brings the greatest happiness. Happiness depends on love. Love to the fullest to be happiest.”
It is said that the greatest love brings the greatest happiness.
“I wanted to become a worker-priest like St. Paul, who lived by tent-making. Since my family did farming, who is more suited to being a worker-priest than me? The seminary dean opposed it, saying the Vatican didn’t favor worker-priests. Then I learned about the Paris Foreign Missions Society. After serving as a UN soldier in Germany right after World War II, I naturally visited the Paris Foreign Missions Society after demobilization, which eventually led me to Korea.”
Bishop Dubong was ordained in 1953 in France and dispatched to Korea as a priest of the Paris Foreign Missions Society. He arrived by ship, which took two months, stopping in Egypt, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, and Japan before reaching Incheon in December 1954. In the post-war ruins with people wandering in the cold, he still noticed the warm hearts of Koreans among the poverty. Serving in Daejeon, he cared for war orphans.
- Do you still spend your days happily?
“I get up at 5 a.m. Even in the cold, I rise right away. It doesn’t take even five minutes. I celebrate Mass here for about an hour and a half, and have coffee and bread for breakfast. I’m happy. Then I pray for two hours.”
- What prayers do you say?
“Since they know my heart’s needs beforehand, I remain silently still. I’ve lived my whole life as a clergyman. I don’t think about myself. I just remain quietly before God, open my mouth to make the ‘ha’ sound, and prostrate with arms outstretched.”
- You seem unburdened by anything.
“Nothing burdens me. During the day, I meet and listen to visitors. I welcome everyone. In summer, I weed, water, and farm. I’m glad and proud.”
- I like that expression. Glad and proud...
“I coined that when I was the bishop of Andong. When the diocese was established 60 years ago, its population was 1.7 million. But now the rural population has drastically shrunk. There are no young people, and the future looked bleak. However, instead of viewing that pessimistically, I chose to accept it with an open heart.
Even if you can’t play, eat, or spend money like city folks, it’s okay... it’s not essential. So let’s live simply and open-heartedly. Since rural areas produce life, if we cherish life and share with each other, the kingdom of God overflowing with joy is created.”
Tears welled up at those simple words. For a while, people blocked their ears, speaking only their own right views, and trudged zigzagging, not knowing tomorrow’s mission or weather. The times spent neither joyfully nor proudly pierced deeply.
“You realize when you live. Anyway, putting the title ‘glad and proud’ and declaring so, you end up living that way. Concerns about an uncertain future don’t exist. I accept reality in my own way, and even if a few people live that way, the atmosphere revives.”
- Still, many young people are feeling quite depressed. Would you share some advice?
“(With a somber face) There might be physical and economic difficulties. But the world changes based on how you see it. If you start viewing everything negatively, there’s no end. There are many bad things in the world, for both people and nature. But there are more beneficial things. Think positively first and dwell on goodness. Goodness far outnumbers evil.”
He advised moving around a lot rather than indulging negative thoughts.
“That’s how you become healthy and have fewer bad thoughts. How courageous are Korean people? I’ve witnessed our nation’s growth since the Korean War. It would be nice if TV aired more good news.”
- Haven’t you ever felt distressed in life?
“Thinking about the entire church, it was 60 years ago. Originally, all Masses were conducted in Latin, but then the Vatican directed that services and missions be localized in the vernacular. It was a tremendous change. Until then, priests memorized prayers in Latin and even conducted confessions in Latin. Afterward, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and other languages were used in Mass.
Each country has its customs, and in Korea, we decided to embrace traditions like the Lunar New Year, Seollal, Daeboreum, and Confucian traditional meals. However, foreign priests in Andong diocese struggled to adapt and gradually left. Seven out of 19 parishes ended up empty. That time was very distressing for me. I went on a week-long retreat in France. The realization I gained was that ‘worrying is pointless.’ I entrusted it to God….”
That's when silent prayer began.
“Help came from the Daegu Diocese, other missionaries aided, and gradually Korean priests began to emerge. I didn’t strategize my whole life. When I lived with a clear mind, unexpected things happened. It wasn’t mere coincidence.”
In 1973, while serving as the Andong diocesan bishop, Bishop Dubong opened a clinic for leprosy patients in Yeongju, Gyeongbuk, and founded the Catholic Farmers' Association in 1978. He established Sangji School Corporation for vocational training for the disabled and women’s education. Despite having submitted his resignation to the Vatican four times according to the principle of localizing the church, which assigns leadership to local priests, Bishop Dubong's resignation was denied each time.
However, when conflict with the Korean government arose over the so-called ‘O Won-chun Incident’ in 1979, he rejected the resignation offer and stood by Korean farmers as a ‘bishop’. The incident stemmed from priests protesting and securing compensation for damage caused by poor potato seeds in Yeongyang County in 1978, which eventually expanded into a farmers’ movement.
Since 1954, for 71 years, he has loved the dignified character of Koreans, grounded in integrity and optimism. South Korea awarded him the Presidential Citation, and France conferred the Napoleon Medal.
He said his name, Dubong, was derived from ‘a cuckoo singing on a mountain peak’. He chose the Bongwaong Du clan as his origin and registered it in his family register as its founder.
- When was the last time you visited your hometown, Orléans?
“I visited five years ago. My eyesight and hearing have deteriorated, so I can't go anymore. I can't drive anymore either.”
- Which feels more like home to you, Orléans or Uiseong?
“I was born in Orléans, but I’ve lived here. I’ve lived here in our country for a very long time.”
Praying to meet again after a long life, I left the rectory before sunset. Heaped with yu-gwa and dried persimmons for the journey back to Seoul, my hands were full so I wouldn’t feel empty. With so much freely received, I was left speechless, wondering if it was a dream or reality.
Bishop Dubong emerged to see me off outside the gate, waving a white hand with a smile.
“Live well. Gladly and proudly.”
Bishop Dubong Renato, the first bishop of the Andong Diocese who dedicated himself to the weak, passed away at 7:47 p.m. on April 10.