Why Buddhism Is Hip in Korea

Yes, it’s a global issue—every spiritual community and religion is slowly declining.

Even the Buddha anticipated, 2,600 years ago, that the sangha would eventually weaken and decrease.

When I was ordained last year at a Theravāda temple in Korea, under the Jogye Order—the largest operating Buddhist community—I saw this concern firsthand. The number of newly ordained monks each year are declining, and the majority is in their 50s and 60s—retirees, not working-age practitioners.

If you didn’t know, monks are not just sitting and meditating in their robes.

Sangha needs young monks who can work hard—sweeping temple grounds, fixing temple facilities, preparing meals for hundreds of visitors, praying and giving talks daily, promoting and running temple programs, attracting donors and followers, managing calls and emails—essentially managing the entire operation of the temple and its livelihood. Simply because that’s their home, and ‘family business’.

I’ve been visiting South Korea once or twice a year in recent years. Working with the Jogye Order on large-scale projects gave me the opportunity to return home more regularly.

Helping the Korean Buddhist community—there was never a reason to say no. If anything, it felt like a blessing.

But the most surprising part was witnessing how Buddhism became… a trend over the course of years.

A real, cultural movement.

Through our project: the International Buddhism Expo.

For over ten years, our team has been involved in this annual expo and meditation conference.

Back in 2019, when I managed a press release about the Seoul International Buddhism Expo across Canadian regions, there were skeptical comments:

“Since when did Buddhism become an industry?”

People criticized the idea of presenting Buddhism in a way that felt commercial—something they believed should remain sacred.

But the reality is, yes—Buddhism is also an industry.

A large number of people’s livelihoods and local economies depend on it.

Although my team had been working on this project for over a decade, I personally experienced it in person for the first time in 2019.

Honestly, I was blown away. Yes, I’m Korean and a Buddhist, but the depth and quality of the Korean Buddhist community—it felt like discovering a whole ecosystem I never knew existed. My jaw dropped… I was in complete awe.

Of course. Korea has deep Buddhist roots—historically and culturally. From food, architecture, and clothing to art, crafts, tea, and ritual objects.

At its core, Buddhism is not about culture. It is about practice—how to live, how to live peacefully, and ultimately how to be free.

But in reality, Buddhism also functions as a cultural and social organism—shaping communities, movements, and even trends.

A few years ago, something unexpected happened.

A Korean comedian and DJ began mimicking a monk—playfully. At the same time, he created music inspired by Buddhist philosophy.

We invited that comedian to the main stage and curated expo vendors with a more Gen Z–friendly concept under the theme “Playful Buddhism.”

That year, everything changed.

The expo took off.

Massive crowds. Media coverage. Long lines. Young people everywhere.

The kind of scene we had been hoping to see for years—but never had. Until then. And this year? It only doubled.

Over 250,000 people.

We had to shut down registration after the first day due to overwhelming demand. Thousands couldn’t get in. The average wait time was 50 minutes.

To see what?

To see Buddhism.

It was surreal.

Who would have imagined that young Koreans would be this excited about Buddhism today?

And what struck me most was this: It worked.

Not because we tried to protect Buddhism from change, but because we allowed it to be open. Flexible. Welcoming. Boundary-less.

When the DJ and comedian playfully embodied Buddhist imagery, the community didn’t react with criticism or rigidity.

They embraced it.

They enjoyed it together.

That openness made it go even more viral—real viral.

That, to me, is Buddhism in action.

Not clinging to form.

Not over-identifying with concepts.

At its essence—emptiness.

The question of how to share the Buddha’s teachings has always been there.

Every sangha I know discusses this constantly.

Without visitors, without lay practitioners’ support, sangha cannot survive.

And without sangha, we lose a living community that proves and walks the path the Buddha taught—one of the Three Jewels: Buddha, Dharma, Sangha.

Sangha is that important.

To protect.
To respect.
To follow.

So sharing Buddhism—its teachings, its values, its living communities—becomes essential.

That’s partly why I started TikTok for the first time in my life.

To share what I’ve learned. To bring Buddhist teachings into spaces that often feel fragmented or unhealthy. Not to control how it is received.

But to make it accessible.

Because ultimately, the channel doesn’t matter. The method doesn’t matter.

What matters is lowering the barrier.

Making it easier for someone to encounter the Dharma—even once.

The depth of what they experience afterward?

That’s no longer the job of TikTok or the expo.

That’s on them.

On each individual who begins to ask questions about life.

So share what you love.
Share what you value—however you can.

But don’t expect others to love it the way you do.

Our role is simple:

To share.
To keep sharing.
And to live it.

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