'Purity' or 'harm and control'? Inside the Shincheonji church

Over the past two years I’ve received multiple invitations to join Shincheonji’s Bible course and evangelism events. I’ve grown up Christian so I didn’t find the invitations odd. But I repeatedly declined them.

However I was curious about the number of Pacific people joining this Korean church. Why were they so devoted to the teachings of 93-year-old Korean man Lee Man-Hee, who doesn’t speak English and claims to be the only person who can interpret the Bible? He also claims here everyone outside of Shincheonji has been corrupted by the devil and can’t enter heaven.

Faith is a personal choice though and many Christian churches and religions receive criticism from those with differing beliefs, so I kept an open mind about Shincheonji.

Then over time, I noticed the people I knew who had joined Shincheonji were changing. They were withdrawing from relationships with those outside of the church – and from me. The more I looked into the church, the more questions I had.

Inside Shincheonji Temple

The first time I was invited into the temple of Shincheonji, I asked to use the bathroom. Walking down the hallway, I noticed the carpet was spotless and the walls impeccably clean.

One side of the hallway was lined with framed photos, perfectly spaced, showing the more than 200,000 followers in Shincheonji’s international ministry. Some of those frames captured the estimated 300 members of New Zealand’s Shincheonji churches in Auckland and Wellington. They were at Bible study classes, church services where every member was dressed the same – white shirts and black skirts or trousers, and pink ties for the males.

On the back of the bathroom door was a sign reading: “People in heaven should smile a lot, walk without waddling, greet each other well and speak nicely. [They] must have bright smiles and use beautiful language…

“Let’s say words like these: positive words, words of love, words of forgiveness, words of sacrifice, words of vitality! Let us remain in words that please God.”

It was a picture of perfection. As if heaven was on earth. In hindsight, it was exactly how I would describe my first impression of Shincheonji’s members. It also felt odd. As someone who has grown up in churches, "perfection" is the last word I’d use to describe any Christian church.

And after a months-long investigation, I wouldn’t use that word to describe Shincheonji either.

A Pacific focus?

Ex-members told me they were advised by leaders not to look up Shincheonji on the internet. A quick Google of the word “Shincheonji” or “New Heaven, New Earth” (its English Name) may explain why. There are links to articles, blogs, podcasts and documentaries made here and around the world alleging that Shincheonji is a cult. Ex-members describe experiencing or witnessing harm, manipulation and control within the organisation.

In July, I happened to be in Fiji when I became aware of Shincheonji’s “peace arm” known as Heavenly Culture World Peace and Restoration of Light (or HPWL). I saw photos showing dozens of Pacific leaders standing with Shincheonji’s founder, Lee Man-hee, at a regional peace summit.

A world map inside Shincheonji Auckland’s temple building shows the church exists in nine Pacific countries. A former senior leader told us that during her five years with the church, more than two dozen Pacific churches in New Zealand alone signed a Memorandum of Understanding agreement with Shincheonji. One South Auckland pastor told us that Shincheonji members attended his church service to offer a partnership with the Korean church.

Laura Muir, a Christchurch-based former senior leader in Shincheonji, told me Pacific people are the fastest growing demographic in Shincheonji New Zealand.

Secrecy and Power

Since August, we repeatedly requested interviews with the church’s leader in New Zealand, known to us only as Christy. It’s difficult to find information about Christy online. She’s not mentioned on Shincheonji’s website and doesn’t appear on any of its social media pages. The church only gave us her first name. When I asked Shincheonji’s Public Relations person, a former TVNZ Journalist, for Christy's last name, she said she didn’t know what it was.

We know that Christy is 47 years old. She joined Shincheonji about 15 years ago and is a qualified accountant who studied and practised in New York. She was sent to New Zealand by the church’s headquarters in Korea in 2021 to replace the church’s previous leader. We’ve been told her real name is Namgung Hyunok.

For our two-part series on TVNZ+, Shincheonji agreed to let us interview three of its members including its senior spokesperson Aleisha Stanton. Christy, however, would not front. In our interviews with Shincheonji members, the church’s PR person and another senior leader were present and interrupted the members several times to suggest alternative answers to our questions.

After months of chasing, I received an unexpected late-night text, inviting me to meet Christy immediately at my local McDonald’s. Instead we agreed on a café in Newmarket the next morning. As soon as I entered and greeted Christy I thought of the sign on the back of the toilet door in Shincheonji’s temple. “People in heaven should smile a lot, walk without waddling, greet each other well and speak nicely. [They] must have bright smiles and use beautiful language…”

She was softly spoken, giggled frequently and smiled through difficult questions, like when I asked about the allegations of harm, manipulation and control by ex-members, including some who had been under her leadership. Her response was to ask me about my role as a working mother. Did that commitment not bring demands and pressures, the same way church membership might?

Church vs cult: what’s the difference?

The difference between myself as a working mother and those alleging experiences of harm, manipulation and control in an alleged cult is that I have autonomy. I choose to work, I chose to have children and that freedom to choose feels different to the experiences we heard about from former and current members at Shincheonji.

But looking into Shincheonji did force me to hold up a mirror to my own experiences in Christian churches. If I am honest, I have experienced and witnessed behaviours I saw in Shincheonji at other Christian churches.

I joined a thriving and zealous evangelical church as a teenager and stayed for nearly eight years. I experienced community, belonging and a united sense of purpose. Some of those experiences have positively shaped who I am and I’ve formed life-long friendships with those I met in that church.

But I also experienced manipulation, control and harm by some of its leaders. I was one of many who trusted their guidance over my parents’ advice. Their expectations were my priority, I dedicated my time and what little money I had to my involvement in the church and was regularly pushed to lay bare all my sins before spiritual mentors. If I didn’t, I was seen as rebellious.

My Christian faith remains a core part of who I am and these days, I have returned to my roots – my Tongan Methodist church – where my children enjoy embracing faith, community and culture. In recent years, I've experienced church leaders who have directed me to seek my own understanding about faith, rather than lean on them.

But I’ve observed a common pattern in many churches – submitting to God can mean submitting to church leadership without question. In Shincheonji many members believe founder Lee Man-hee is immortal and infallible.

I wondered if they’d read the whole Bible because it’s full of fallible leaders.

Moses had anger management issues. David had an affair and murdered the husband of his mistress. Samson was a womaniser and Noah got drunk.

They were imperfect characters. Misfits whose stories are full of trauma, forgiveness, healing and hope. The church is not perfect – the Bible is clear about that. History has exposed the many horrific abuses and crimes committed in religious organisations – we only need to look to our own Royal Commission of Inquiry into abuse of people in state and faith-based care.

Churches may be quick to portray an image of goodness and charity but tend to shove anything unholy under the carpet. (And we all wear our knees out on that carpet desperately praying to forget how fallible we are as humans.)

Perhaps it is easier for many churches to point the finger at alleged cult groups such as Shincheonji than raise questions about their own behaviours.

When I think about the sign on the back of the toilet door, portraying goodness, perfection and purity, I’m reminded of a conversation I once had with a friend who is a sex-worker, a Christian and regular church go-er.

“The church is just a hospital,” she said. “Everyone who goes there is sick and needs healing.” One of the most honest and genuine descriptions I’ve heard about church.

The Shincheonji church believes no one can get to heaven unless they’ve completed Shincheonji’s eight-month Bible course and are “sealed” into the church’s Book of Life through its special, secret passover service. One member told me she never understood the Parables Jesus shared in the Bible until she had completed Shincheonji’s eight-month course. Unfortunately, she could not recall what the Woman with the Yeast parable was about when asked but maintained that Shincheonji was the only way anyone could get to heaven and enter the kingdom of God.

I thought about my sex-worker friend and wondered if Shincheonji members knew about the Parable of the Two Sons in Matthew 21:31 where Jesus sharply addressed the Pharisees (religious leaders of the day).

“Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.”