I dragged my feet going to the University of Pittsburgh. I hadn’t given much thought to Pitt at all. I thought I was going to music school. But alas, here I was feeling confused and nervous. I was thankful to have friends from high school there with me as well. It took the edge off the loneliness. However, the desire to have Korean Christian friends felt like a dull ache that wouldn’t go away. So the hunt for a local Korean church began.
About 10 minutes away was the Korean Central Church of Pittsburgh, the de facto local Korean church for Pitt and CMU (Carnegie Mellon University) students. Far from the 800-member church I reveled in back home, this was a much humbler church. But the English ministry, a mere 20 people, was happy to see me and other folks there. And it was there that I would meet some of my closest friends during my entire four years in Pittsburgh.
After being involved for several months, I couldn’t help but compare the gloriousness of my youth group experience to this relatively underwhelming church. And despite their loving and being kind to me, I decided that their church didn’t have the “passion for Jesus” I wanted. Also, it felt too Korean. I kept hearing of a CMU college ministry called Agapé Campus Ministry—a part of Agapé Life Church (ALC)—through one of my friends, and a handful of us from KCCP went to check ALC out. Agape Life Church is a part of a collective of “Agapé” churches, with Agapé Mission Church being the founding church in Maryland.
The first ALC large group experience felt like (what it must feel like taking) a big drug hit after going through withdrawal. Passion? You have no idea. Fervor? In excess amounts. Charismatic elements? Oh, indeed. Songs I knew? Praise the Lord. If the best youth group worship was a 7 out of 10, worship at Agapé was an 11. In addition to their desirable religiosity, their ethnic makeup felt wonderfully familiar: largely Asian American (mostly Korean) and definitely second generation.
What happened after was the reeling in of the line. I was love bombed. The loneliness vanished, the upperclassmen gave us freshmen a lot of attention, and the leaders’ mouths salivated…
I was excited to come home for summer after my first full year and share more in depth with my family about this awesome new church I was a part of:
“Dad! I go to this awesome church called Agape! It’s so amazing and powerful and they really love Jesus!”
“Hmm… Agape? I think I’ve heard of them. Are you sure it’s a good church?”
“What are you talking about, Dad? It’s amazing! They love Jesus so much! More than I’ve ever experienced before! More than you have too!”
“I think you need to be careful. I’ve heard about them and I’m worried that you’re going there.”
“Dad, you don’t know! You think you know what real faith is but you don’t! They do and they practice it!”
Vomiting yet? The religious arrogance of a young me warrants a gagging reflex. His concerns should’ve been warning enough. They should’ve given me pause. But I was on track towards Christian purity; a correct life of faith.
The next several years were marked with intense dedication and new religious experiences. Agapé took evangelicalism and charismatic worship to places I’ve never experienced before. Prophetic wisdom, the impartation of the gift of tongues, spontaneous and wild worship, spiritual warfare, extended food fasts, and slayings in the spirit were common communal practices. I remember during one retreat they played a Lou Engle intercession CD during our prayer time. Prayer meetings were super long, loud, intense, and full of indiscernible tongues. Weeping and wailing were common. Sunday worship frequently lasted two hours—sometimes more if the Holy Spirit said so.
In Agapé, I learned about intercession—praying and fasting for the campus. I learned to see the university of which I was a student as a battleground for hearts and souls. For our church, the mission was clear—abusively so. Win hearts. Bring back the lost sheep. Prayer walking became a common weekend activity for me and my friends. We would walk the campus perimeter, in and outside buildings, silently or verbally praying, speaking prophetically, for Jesus to redeem the souls therein. We had morning prayer every day at 6:45 to pray for non-believers and the campus. We felt we were a part of something so big, so important, so urgent.
You might guess that Agapé had a tense relationship with other campus ministries. It was mostly because Agapé felt its superior mission needed no partners or that the other ministries weren’t good enough partners. It was common for visitors to check out the ministry, get weirded out, and leave to join other ministries. Of course, that’s how the reputation spreads. It’s gossip and rumor on one side; concern and warning on the other. Agapé was labeled as cultish. But as a member, that label only strengthens the idea that you’re doing something right: suffering for the gospel.
ALC had such force that many of us failed to see how controlling they were. And if we did see, we suppressed the concerns. Our leaders were deeply embedded in our lives, drawing clear boundaries on our commitments outside of church involvement. For example, if the student leaders weren’t going to commit entire summers to leadership training, it was a clear indication that we were not interested in advancing the kingdom as part of ALC. Making friends outside of the church for the sake of social friendship was quietly frowned upon—that is, unless they were a “project.” Despite the fact that we were majority Asian American, speaking our native tongues was expressly and vocally prohibited. It was an egregious offense. The church actively made sure that ethnicity and race were non-factors and our evangelism efforts (i.e., targets) made that clear.
I’m not sure if the pastors and leaders knew how emotionally abusive they could be. I think they were victims of their own message so much so that they needed to make sure everyone was in line. Or maybe some folks were in too deep that getting out would be too painful. I know that feeling, as do others who eventually left as well.
I had a blessing in the midst of my experiences at Agapé Life Church. My roommates weren’t a part of it. They stayed at Korean Central Church. It afforded them an outsiders’ perspective about my church life. Brian, who I deeply respected, would often share a sober perspective about Agapé, especially having been a part of it for a few months. His perspectives were the annoying buzzes of reality I was afraid to accept. I was often envious about their freedom, their “normal” life as compared to mine. They were, in effect, my escape.
I made it known, during my last semester, that I would not stay in Pittsburgh after graduating. To the leaders, this was nothing but resignation from the mission and commitment to the city that ALC upheld. It was a bizarre two months, getting the cold shoulder a lot. Phone calls stopped. Emails stopped. Going to church on Sunday was brutally awkward since no one wanted to talk to me any more aside from the necessary “Hey Dan.” That’s how they did it when I was there. You’re either in or you’re out. It was impossible to be a casual member.
But I have to give them credit where it’s due. They did some things that I don’t see in largely Asian American churches. Women were pastors equal to men. Artistic expression was thoroughly encouraged. And unlike a lot of Asian American churches I’ve seen, they fervently practiced their conviction: evangelism and discipleship of the non-believing.
But it appeared to me, in those last two lonely months, that God had other plans for me in motion. A call to Atlanta.
