Commentary 26/04/27 After the Cross: When faith demands accountability

[성기화 요셉]

Accompanying migrant workers often reveals how difficult it is to secure even the most basic forms of justice

People pay their respects at the memorial of Nguyen Van Tuan (Joseph), a 23-year-old Vietnamese migrant worker who lost his life in a workplace accident in Icheon, Gyeonggi Province, South Korea. (Photo: Supplied)

By Father Juchan Kim

Published: April 27, 2026 12:40 PM GMT

Updated: April 27, 2026 12:41 PM GMT

The Christian faith proclaims that life has overcome death. At its heart lies the conviction that suffering and injustice do not have the final word. Yet in Korea today, that proclamation confronts a painful and urgent question.

On March 10, a 23-year-old Vietnamese migrant worker, Nguyen Van Tuan (Joseph), lost his life in a workplace accident in Icheon, Gyeonggi Province.

Tuan was the eldest son in his family. After his father was injured at a construction site, he took on the responsibility of supporting his parents and siblings. He came to Korea hoping to repay a significant debt — incurred through recruitment and visa costs — and to build a future for those he loved.

He was sent alone to inspect an overloaded conveyor belt. The machine was still running. There were no safety guards, no emergency stop device, and no colleague to assist him. His death was not an unforeseeable tragedy. It was preventable.

In reflecting on such a death, it becomes clear that it cannot be understood merely as an isolated accident. It reveals something deeper — a structure in which certain lives are placed in positions where refusing danger is not a real option, and where safety is not equally guaranteed.

Tuan worked under Korea's Employment Permit System, a government-run program that ties migrant workers to a single employer, severely restricting their ability to change workplaces or leave unsafe conditions.

Without the employer's consent, changing workplaces is nearly impossible, and safety concerns alone are not recognized as valid grounds for transfer. In such a system, workers who sense danger are often left with no real choice but to comply.

In the first three months of this year alone, 13 migrant workers have died in workplace accidents in Korea — roughly one death every week. These are not accidents. They are produced. They are the predictable outcome of a system that places the most vulnerable in the most dangerous conditions, while limiting their ability to refuse or leave.

From a faith perspective, this reality raises a profound challenge. If we truly believe that Christ is risen, then we cannot turn away from deaths that should never have happened.

Faith in the resurrection is not only about hope beyond death; it is about the restoration of life where it is still being denied.

This is where the presence of the Church becomes both visible and tested. Across Korea, dioceses, parishes, and religious communities accompany migrants in various ways — offering pastoral care, community, language education, and, at times, legal and medical assistance. In many places, migrant communities have become part of the life of the Church, and their presence is welcomed and supported.

At the same time, much of this work remains focused on care and service. Efforts to address the structural conditions that place migrant workers at risk — such as labor systems, legal constraints, and workplace safety — are more limited. This is not due to a lack of commitment, but rather reflects the boundaries within which many Church institutions operate.

In practice, accompanying migrant workers often reveals how difficult it is to secure even the most basic forms of justice. After a serious workplace accident, injured workers must navigate complex legal procedures in a foreign language, often without adequate interpretation or support. Accessing industrial accident compensation involves complex procedures that many migrant workers struggle to navigate alone. The law may offer protection. But protection on paper is not protection in practice.

These challenges also affect those who seek to assist them. Priests, religious, and lay workers frequently find themselves navigating systems that are difficult to access and slow to respond. While the Church can offer presence, accompaniment, and immediate support, it often encounters structural limits when confronting deeply embedded labor practices and regulatory gaps. This tension — between pastoral care and structural change — is a defining challenge of migrant ministry today.

In my own ministry, I have been engaged more directly in advocacy: accompanying migrant workers in cases of workplace accidents and wage theft, working with civil society networks, and participating in policy discussions. This experience has shown me both the importance of pastoral presence and its limits when confronting systemic injustice. Care is essential. But care alone cannot prevent deaths like Tuan's.

The question, then, is not whether the Church is present, but how it is called to be present. If human dignity is at the center of the Gospel, then the denial of safety, freedom, and life itself cannot remain outside the scope of the Church's concern. Catholic social teaching has long affirmed what is called the "preferential option for the poor" — and today, migrant workers are among the poorest and most invisible.

The Christian message does not end with the rolling away of the stone (Mk 16,4). It continues in the call to ensure that no one remains trapped beneath structures that deny them life. In this sense, faith cannot remain at the level of compassion alone. It must also take the form of responsibility — a commitment to transform the conditions that make such deaths possible.

Remembering Tuan is not enough. Mourning is not enough. What is required is a willingness to confront the realities that continue to take life away from those who are most vulnerable. This may mean advocating for labor law reform, supporting those who accompany migrant workers, or simply refusing to look away when the next death is reported.

The measure of our faith is not only how we pray, but whether we are willing to act so that what should never happen does not happen again.

*Father Juchan Kim, S.J., is vice director of the Yiutsari Jesuit Center for Migrant Workers and Korea coordinator, JCAP Migrants and Refugees Network. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.