In this blog post, I’ll reflect on the life of Father Lee Tae-seok, who practiced love through medicine, education, and music in Tons, South Sudan, and discuss how the actions of a single person can transform the reality of a local community, as well as the ideal of service I envision.
I first learned about Father Lee Tae-seok through the documentary film ‘Don’t Cry, Tons’ and his book ‘Will You Be My Friend?’. At the time, I was dreaming of working in medical relief, and Father Lee Tae-seok was both a source of hope and a role model for me. His approach—which went beyond simply helping those in need to fully utilizing his abilities where they were needed most, thereby truly transforming people’s lives—resonated deeply with the life I envisioned for myself. I would like to carefully reflect on the ideals I held back then—and the ones I still dream of today—in light of Father Lee Tae-seok’s life.
Father Lee Tae-seok was born in Busan in 1962. After graduating from Inje University College of Medicine in 1987, he completed his internship at Inje University Busan Paik Hospital and served as a military doctor. Although he could have led a relatively stable life as a doctor, he chose a different path after completing his military service. In 1991, he joined the Salesian Order, and the following year, he enrolled in the Department of Theology at Gwangju Catholic University, beginning his preparation for the priesthood. He subsequently studied theology at the Pontifical Salesian University in Rome, took his perpetual vows in the Salesian Order, and was ordained a priest in 2001. He had already visited Tonj—then located in southern Sudan—for the first time in 1999, and after becoming a priest, he was assigned to Tonj in December of that same year, where he began his life of full-fledged missionary work and service. Tonj, which today belongs to South Sudan, became the place to which he devoted much of his life and which he loved deeply.
At the time Father Lee Tae-seok was active there, Tonj was a region with extremely poor social infrastructure—including healthcare and education—due to the effects of a long-running civil war. In an environment where, quite literally, there seemed to be almost nothing, Father Lee Tae-seok built a new foundation step by step. In addition to his Catholic missionary work, he established clinics and hospitals to treat patients and personally conducted mobile medical clinics for residents who had difficulty accessing medical facilities. As the number of patients increased, he worked with the local community to build a hospital and expand facilities, striving to ensure that residents could receive medical services more reliably. He also focused on improving access to clean water and raising living standards, and built schools and dormitories to provide an environment where children could learn. Rather than choosing just one area—such as healthcare, sanitation, living conditions, or education—he systematically addressed the issues essential to the residents’ daily lives, one by one. Among the activities that left a deep impression on many people through the film ‘Don’t Cry, Tons’, one stood out in particular: the youth brass band. Father Lee Tae-seok, who was also talented in music, composed songs himself, taught the children how to play instruments, and built the brass band with them. Music was not merely a hobby; it was another way to restore joy, confidence, and a sense of community to children who had lived through war and poverty. Even after his passing, the Tonz Brass Band continued its activities and eventually became so well-known that it was invited to perform on official stages, including at international conferences. Their performances may not always have been perfect or polished. Yet the music produced by that brass band must have been deeply moving in its own right. Above all, for the children in the brass band, music was not merely sound; it was the time they spent with Father Lee Tae-seok and another language that helped them remember the love they had received.
Father Lee Tae-seok, who had devoted his life to helping others, was unable to take proper care of his own health. In November 2008, while in South Korea for a medical checkup, he was diagnosed with colon cancer and began his battle with the disease, ultimately unable to return to Tonz. Even during his illness, he hoped to return to Tonz someday to see the children and residents, but his condition gradually worsened. He ultimately passed away on January 14, 2010. Thus, the people of Tons and the countless others who remembered him had to bid farewell to a doctor, priest, educator, and friend who was still young. Although the time he spent working directly in Tons was brief, the changes and memories he left behind continued even after his life had ended.
There are far more people around the world dedicated to volunteer and relief work than we realize. In different places and fields, they extend a helping hand to those in need. Whatever form their efforts take, they are never in vain and hold great value. I, too, want to be a part of that effort. However, as I harbored this dream, I also realized that the reality of the world is far more entrenched than I had imagined, and that simply engaging in “meaningful” volunteer work might not be enough to bring about fundamental change. That is why I came to believe that “meaningful” volunteer work must be complemented by volunteer work that “produces tangible results.” That is the direction I envision for volunteer work. Treating people right in front of us and saving lives through medical relief is, of course, important. However, it is also necessary to go one step further—to improve medical infrastructure, establish systems that ensure sustainable operations, and build the necessary facilities; in other words, to bring about change one step at a time, starting from the root of the problem. Of course, this is by no means easy. Even when we recognize the need for fundamental solutions, in reality, far too many issues are intertwined. The local culture, social structure, political situation, economic conditions, and international relations—all of which influence efforts to bring about change—play a role. That is why, even though many people have strived for change, the world has not changed as easily as one might think.
There must have been countless practical obstacles in Tons that had solidified over a long period of time. However, Father Lee Tae-seok prioritized action over grand words, gradually establishing the necessary systems and laying the groundwork one by one. He did not rely solely on his medical knowledge; he applied his diverse abilities—including his skills as an educator, his musical talent, his convictions as a priest, and his power to bring people together—wherever they were needed. He built hospitals and treated patients; he established schools and taught children; and he played musical instruments and led others in making music together. Whenever one problem was solved, he turned his attention to the next, seeking out what he could do and taking action. He transformed the small world in which he lived not with words, but through his actions. In that sense, to me at the time, he was like the “God of Tonz”—a figure who demonstrated love through action in the small world of Tonz. Father Lee Tae-seok’s life made me reflect on just how far a single human being can utilize the abilities and potential given to them, and how much one person can transform the systems around them. Observing his life, I came to believe that there is no need to set limits from the outset on what can be changed through human effort, and I was able to imagine the ideals I dream of with even greater freedom. Of course, changing this vast world is far more difficult than transforming a single region like Tonz, and countless challenges will undoubtedly lie ahead. However, just as there are many problems to be solved, there are also people all over the world striving to solve them. If each of them, just like Father Lee Tae-seok, uses their abilities from where they stand to solve problems one by one, changing the world will certainly not be an impossible task. Even if one person cannot change the entire world, I believe that if there are enough people changing their own small worlds one by one from their respective positions, the larger world will eventually change as well. That is the ideal I dream of.
