Beopheungsa Temple, Yeongwol, South Korea

Beopheungsa Temple, Yeongwol, South Korea

1352, Mureungbeopheung-ro, Mureungdowon-myeon, Yeongwol-gun, Gangwon-do, Republic of Korea

Administratively, Beopheungsa Temple belongs to Beopheung-ri, Suju-myeon, Yeongwol County, but in practical terms it is considerably closer to Wonju. On a map the distance looks manageable enough, yet by public transportation it is a journey of genuine remoteness — a place that truly requires crossing mountains and fording rivers to reach. Beopheungsa is perhaps best known as one of the five Jeongmyeolbogung sanctuaries, where sacred relics of the historical Buddha are said to be enshrined. In 634, the great Silla monk Jajang returned from the Tang Dynasty bearing relics and bone fragments of the Buddha, which he distributed among five sites: Beopheungsa on Sajasan Mountain, Jeongamsa on Taebaeksan Mountain, Bongjeongam Hermitage on Seoraksan Mountain, Sangwonsa Temple on Odaesan Mountain, and Tongdosa Temple in Yangsan. These are the five great Jeongmyeolbogung of Korea.

Beopheungsa is situated on the southern face of Sajasan Mountain. The temple buildings are arranged on rising ground above a large parking area capable of accommodating several full-sized tour buses at once, and the view that opens up before the visitor is strikingly expansive — almost difficult to believe one is in Gangwon Province. The layout of the temple complex bears a resemblance to that of Yeongoksa Temple on Jirisan Mountain close enough to cause momentary confusion. Within the precinct, several newly constructed halls have gone up and construction work was still ongoing during my visit, leaving little of the atmosphere of age one might hope to find. The crowning jewel of Beopheungsa — its Jeongmyeolbogung hall — can only be reached by crossing the full length of the precinct and climbing a steep mountain slope for some distance. The view from the forecourt of the Jeongmyeolbogung brings to mind the scene one encounters at Sangwonsa on Odaesan.

Distant peaks spread out like a folding screen along the horizon, and far below, the eaves of Beopheungsa's main halls are just barely visible — or seem almost to be. It is a setting that could not be more fitting for the enshrinement of the Buddha's sacred relics; one would be hard pressed to find a more auspicious site. Having visited most of Korea's Jeongmyeolbogung sanctuaries, I can say that this one ranks among the finest. The essence of a temple, as I have come to believe, lies nine-tenths in its site and the arrangement of its buildings — and this place does not deviate by even a fraction from that principle. It strikes one as entirely worthy of holding so mysterious and sacred a Buddhist relic. It is easy to picture the many faithful who have made the arduous climb to this forecourt and stood before the hall — its roofline seeming almost to graze the sky — and offered up their prayers and deepest wishes.

Like so many temples, Beopheungsa endured repeated disasters over the centuries and underwent numerous cycles of repair and reconstruction; the halls standing today date largely from the 1930s. The Jeongmyeolbogung itself was rebuilt during that same period. To the rear left of the sanctuary, there remains a small earthen cave said to be the place where Jajang meditated after enshrining the relics, and a stone chest survives as well — the vessel, according to tradition, in which Jajang carried the sacred relics on the back of a lion. Beyond these, Beopheungsa holds several other items of cultural significance, including the stele of the monk Jinghyo of Heungnyeongsa Temple, designated Treasure No. 612. Of particular note are the palm-leaf scriptures kept at the temple — texts recorded in Sanskrit on the leaves of the talipot palm in an era before paper, originally preserved at Mahayeon Hermitage on Geumgangsan Mountain. According to tradition, a monk brought them south to escape the Communist occupation, and they have been kept at Beopheungsa ever since.

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Jeongamsa Temple, Jeongseon, South Korea

Jeongamsa Temple, Jeongseon, South Korea

1410, Hambaeksan-ro, Gohan-eup, Jeongseon-gun, Gangwon-do, Republic of Korea

Administratively located in Gohan-ri, Gohan-eup, Jeongseon County, Jeongamsa Temple sits at the foot of Taebaeksan Mountain and is sometimes referred to as Taebaeksan Jeongamsa for that reason. A ten-minute taxi ride from the towns of Sabuk or Gohan brings one deep into the mountains, where this temple stands as one of the five Jeongmyeolbogung sanctuaries in Korea — among the most spiritually significant Buddhist sites in the country. According to tradition, Jeongamsa was founded in 636, the fifth year of Queen Seondeok of Silla, by the monk Jajang, who brought back sacred relics of the historical Buddha and enshrined them here. Those relics are said to rest within the Sumanot Pagoda, Treasure No. 410, which rises prominently from the mountain slope behind the temple; below it stands the Jeongmyeolbogung hall, where worship is conducted without a Buddha statue — the enshrined relics themselves serving as the object of veneration.

The towns of Sabuk and Gohan in Jeongseon were developed during Korea's industrialization era as coal mining centers, and for a time they thrived. But as the coal industry went into decline, the region hollowed out and the towns grew dark and quiet, the life draining out of them. In an effort to revive the collapsed local economy, the government established the Gangwon Land Casino nearby — and now those who dream of sudden fortune flock to the area like moths drawn to a flame. Yet here in the deep folds of these mountains, where one might expect to find nothing at all, a temple of over a thousand years quietly endures. A small temple, at that — one that holds within it one of only five Jeongmyeolbogung sanctuaries in the entire country. On days when snow or rain closes in, the temple must feel entirely cut off from the outside world, as though nothing else remains — and there is something undeniably forlorn about it in such moments.

Jeongamsa is found by following the road that runs from Sabuk through Gohan and over the pass toward Taebaek, where the temple entrance appears along the way. The mountains here are so deep and steep that one must crane one's neck to catch even a glimpse of the peaks above, and sunlight is a scarce commodity — there are few spots within the valley where direct sun reaches for any length of time. This, perhaps, is why the most important structure at Jeongamsa — the Sumanot Pagoda — was placed at the very edge of the upper mountain slope, where it can rise above the surrounding terrain. Rare in Korea, the pagoda is built in the style of a seven-story imitation-brick stone tower, standing nine meters in total height, constructed with remarkable precision from gray agate stone. Based on its method of construction, it is believed to date to the Goryeo period.

When the Sumanot Pagoda was dismantled and restored in 1972, a set of relic vessels was discovered within — but the sacred relics of the Buddha were not among them. According to tradition, Jajang, concerned that future generations might be tempted by greed, divided the sacred relics he had brought back from the Tang Dynasty among three separate pagodas: one of gold, one of silver, and one of agate — the Sumanot. The gold and silver pagodas, it is said, were concealed from human sight and are believed to lie somewhere on Geumdaebong Peak to the north of Jeongamsa and Eundaebong Peak to the south — a legend not unlike the old tale of the golden axe and the silver axe. Of the three, only the Sumanot Pagoda's location is known with certainty, and it is for this reason that the Jeongmyeolbogung hall was built at its foot, Jeongamsa established around it, and prayers have been offered here ever since — for the sake of all sentient beings.

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Geonbongsa Temple, Goseong, South Korea

Geonbongsa Temple, Goseong, South Korea

723, Geonbongsa-ro, Geojin-eup, Goseong-gun, Gangwon-do, Republic of Korea

It was only a year or two ago that I came to know Geonbongsa Temple in any meaningful way. I had come across references to it as one of the great temples of Korea — one that had been burned to the ground during the Korean War and left as a ruined site before undergoing partial restoration in recent years — and my curiosity drew me to look more closely into its history. What I found astonished me. Geonbongsa is said to have been founded in 520, the seventh year of King Beopheung of Silla, by the monk Ado. For well over a millennium it maintained its prominence, and right up until the eve of the Korean War it stood as one of the four great temples of the country and one of the thirty-one head temples of the modern Buddhist administrative system — with the now far more famous Baedamsa and Seoraksan Sinheungsa among its subsidiary temples. Then the war came, and it was burned entirely to the ground.

This is perhaps not difficult to understand. Geonbongsa sits near the armistice line in territory belonging to the Geumgang Mountain range — one of the most fiercely contested battlegrounds of the entire conflict. Even today, military installations line the access road leading to the temple, offering a vivid sense of what that terrain must have looked like during the fighting. For anyone who knows the modern history of this peninsula, the destruction of Geonbongsa feels less like a tragedy of chance than an almost inevitable consequence of where it stood. It is, in the most literal sense, a temple at the very edge of the division between North and South Korea. Until not long ago, the area fell within the Civilian Control Zone, and public access was restricted; but the temple and its approach road have since been removed from that zone, and the site can now be visited freely.

The only structure at Geonbongsa to survive the Korean War unburned was the Buriumun, the Gate of Non-Duality. Even this gate — unusual in having four pillars rather than the customary two — still bears the unmistakable marks of bullets across its surface, a testament to the ferocity of the fighting that swept through here. All other buildings on the grounds date from restorations carried out after 1989 and hold relatively little heritage value in themselves. Throughout Korea there are countless sites of ruined temples, and Geonbongsa came close to joining those that have slipped quietly into the margins of history; what stands today represents a recovery from that near disappearance. Given the enormous original scale of the complex, much of the temple site remains as it was left — unrestored, open ground — with only the main hall and a handful of buildings brought back. Through the center of this partially recovered precinct runs a small stream, and spanning it is Neungpagyo, an arched stone bridge of rainbow form, built in a style reminiscent of Seungseon Bridge before Seonamsa Temple in Suncheon, South Jeolla Province.

Ruined temple sites are found across the entire country, and I have long considered them to be cultural heritage worthy of respect in their own right. Something in the experience of standing beside Neungpagyo and trying to imagine, from imagination alone, the vast monastic complex that once spread out on both sides of that bridge has its own particular value. And yet it was here, for the first time, that I found myself thinking: perhaps restoration — even partial, even imperfect — is better than leaving such a place to slowly vanish. On the way out, I came across a black-and-white photograph taken in the 1920s showing Geonbongsa as it once was. It looked like something conjured from a time machine — an immense complex of extraordinary scale, filling the valley in a way that was almost impossible to reconcile with what stands there now. Had Geonbongsa survived intact to the present day, what a breathtaking sight it would have been.

This brings to mind something a scholar once said: that for a civilization with such a long history, what Korea has managed to preserve is painfully little. Even of what did survive, there are countless examples of heritage left unprotected, neglected, or damaged through simple ignorance of how to care for it properly. What is needed now — and urgently — is the wisdom to find the right methods, to manage and preserve what remains in a systematic way, and to pass it on to those who will come after us. The great cultural heritage passed down from the past is a mirror held up to all of us, and much of it is of a value that defies easy reckoning.

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Ansimsa Temple, Cheongju, South Korea

Ansimsa Temple, Cheongju, South Korea

169-28, Sadong-gil, Nami-myeon, Seowon-gu, Cheongju-si, Chungcheongbuk-do, Republic of Korea

Ansimsa Temple sits on the outskirts of Cheongju City in North Chungcheong Province, a subsidiary temple of Beopjusa — the most prominent Buddhist temple in the province. Even many residents of Cheongju are unaware of its existence, yet it too stands as a temple of over a thousand years. According to tradition, it was founded in 775, the eleventh year of King Hyegong of Silla, by the monk Jinpyo. After its establishment, his many disciples named the temple Ansimsa — meaning "the temple that brings peace to the village." It was rebuilt in 1325 during the twelfth year of King Chungsuk of Goryeo by the National Monk Wonmyeong, and underwent several further reconstructions during the Joseon Dynasty, before being burned to the ground during the Japanese invasion of 1592 and falling into ruin. The temple survived only as a faint remnant until it was rebuilt in the 1980s, taking on the form it holds today.

Among the various halls at Ansimsa, the oldest surviving structure is the Daeungjeon, the main hall, which is designated Treasure No. 664 and dates to the Joseon period. No records survived to confirm its precise date of construction, but during a restoration project in 1979 in which the hall was dismantled for repair, an ink inscription was discovered indicating that the building had been renovated in 1606, the thirty-ninth year of King Seonjo's reign — confirming it as a Joseon-era structure from the early seventeenth century. Also believed to have been created and enshrined at the time of that same renovation is the Hanging Painting of the Vulture Peak Assembly, designated National Treasure No. 297. In other words, this is a wooden structure some four hundred years old. The building was originally three bays across the front and three bays along the sides, but through successive rounds of repair, one bay was lost from the sides and the roof was changed from a hip-and-gable form to a gabled form.

My first question upon arriving was why such a significant wooden structure had survived in so obscure a location — but standing before the Daeungjeon of Ansimsa and taking it in, I found myself nodding in quiet understanding. It is small in scale, yet it is unmistakably a work of beauty, one that carries within it the full grace of Joseon-period Buddhist art. The temple holds several other treasures as well, among them the Sejonsarip Stupa and its accompanying stele, which tradition holds were erected by the founding monk Jinpyo to enshrine relics of the historical Buddha. The stupa disappeared in the late Joseon period, only to be rediscovered on Guryongsan Mountain; it was moved to Gucheon-dong in 1881, the eighteenth year of King Gojong's reign, and then returned to its original home at Ansimsa in 1900, the fourth year of the Gwangmu era.

My visit to Ansimsa fell on a spring day, and the temple grounds were in full bloom with white hydrangeas. The sky was clear and deeply blue, and the white blossoms spread across the courtyard formed a scene of striking beauty in harmony with that sky. The cultural heritage we encountered at this little-known temple was, as ever, magnificent — more than worthy of the deliberate effort it takes to seek it out. If the chance arises, I would very much like to return in the autumn.

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Gakyeonsa Temple, Goesan, South Korea

Gakyeonsa Temple, Goesan, South Korea

451, Gagyeon-gil, Chilseong-myeon, Goesan-gun, Chungcheongbuk-do, Republic of Korea

North Chungcheong Province is not especially rich in notable cultural heritage. The same holds true for its Buddhist temples — apart from Beopjusa, few are widely known beyond the region. Gakyeonsa Temple in Goesan is one such overlooked place, seldom visited and little talked about. I came at the tail end of winter, just before the first signs of spring, and found the temple exactly as the season suggested — snow still lying unmelted between the valley rocks, the landscape holding its breath. Gakyeonsa is said to have been founded by the monk Yuil during the reign of Silla King Beopheung, and was later expanded into a substantial complex by the monk Tongil during the early Goryeo period. It has passed through several rounds of restoration since then, continuing to the present day. Most of the halls currently standing within the precinct are relatively recent reconstructions; what remains of historical significance are the stele of National Master Tongil, designated Treasure No. 1295, and the funerary stupa of National Master Tongil, designated Treasure No. 1370.

The entire valley surrounding Gakyeonsa felt bleak and cheerless, as though snow might begin to fall at any moment. A thick fog had settled over the precinct, drifting in and out, alternately obscuring and revealing the grounds. Every temple has its own particular atmosphere, and I have always been sensitive to the mood a place carries — but here, whether due to the weather or simply the absence of other visitors, the feeling was one of flatness, of nothing much asserting itself. The halls were all of recent construction, the overall scale of the complex modest, and it did not take long to make a complete circuit of the grounds. I was beginning to feel a mild regret at having made the journey, wondering if the effort had been worth it — but then I shifted my perspective and looked at the precinct as a whole, and something in the view was enough to suggest that this, too, was a place of long history and quiet power, chosen with care and purpose.

Coming up along the valley, I had not anticipated it, but the courtyard nestled inside proved more spacious than I had expected. And the view from within the precinct — looking out across the full sweep of the valley — was genuinely impressive: a succession of mountain ridges rising and receding without obstruction, as open and expansive as anything one might find at a far more celebrated temple. It occurred to me, somewhat belatedly, that I had come at the wrong time of year. Not quite deep winter, not yet spring — the grounds were in that awkward in-between state, patches of old snow still clinging here and there. Looking at the same scene and imagining it all in deep summer green, I felt certain the impression would have been entirely different. Every temple has a season that suits it best, and Gakyeonsa, I felt, is a place that would be most at home in midsummer, when the valley is at its fullest and most alive.

Lost in these thoughts, I grew curious about the temple's most significant cultural artifacts — the funerary stupa and memorial stele of National Master Tongil. I looked for them throughout the precinct but could find no sign of either, so I made my way to the temple office and asked a staff member where they might be located. The answer was not what I had hoped to hear: they were up at the very summit of the mountain visible from the grounds. I gave up the idea the moment I heard it. In weather like this, alone, I had no confidence in making that climb — and given my onward schedule, it was simply not going to happen today. Disappointing as it was, I consoled myself with the thought that I had now been given a good reason to return in another season, and on that note brought the day's travels to a close.

If you would like to experience a unique side of Korea, the "Land of the Morning Calm," please feel free to reach out. I host small, private guided tours tailored for international visitors.

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Bulgapsa Temple, Yeonggwang, South Korea

Bulgapsa Temple, Yeonggwang, South Korea

450, Bulgapsa-ro, Bulgap-myeon, Yeonggwang-gun, Jeollanam-do, Republic of Korea

South Jeolla Province is home to an unusually rich concentration of ancient temples preserved in every corner of the region. The southern areas of Haenam, Gangjin, and Yeongam in particular are thick with cultural treasures of national importance, and while the western coastal strip along the Yellow Sea has fewer such sites to offer, there is one place here well worth seeking out — Bulgapsa Temple, set against Bulgapsan Mountain in Yeonggwang. The temple sits at the foot of Bulgapsan in Moak-ri, Bulgap-myeon, Yeonggwang County, South Jeolla Province. Administratively it falls within Yeonggwang, but it lies roughly midway along the national road running from Gwangju toward Yeonggwang, and local buses run to it frequently from Yeonggwang town center.

The exact date of the temple's founding is uncertain, but tradition holds that it was established in 384 CE, the first year of Baekje King Chimnyu's reign, by the Indian monk Marananta. It was rebuilt during the Unified Silla period in the latter half of the eighth century, and expanded greatly during the late Goryeo period when the national monk Gakjin took up residence there — at its height, the temple's landholdings are said to have stretched more than ten ri in every direction. During the Joseon dynasty, the temple was burned down in the second phase of the Japanese invasions in the late sixteenth century and subsequently rebuilt by the monks Beopneung and Haeryong, before undergoing further rounds of restoration over the following centuries. More recent repair work was carried out in 1984 and again in 1996. The oldest surviving hall within the precinct is the Daeungjeon, designated Treasure No. 830, which faithfully preserves the architectural style of the mid-Joseon period. The grounds also contain a number of other halls, including the Palsangjeon, Chilseonggak, Ilgwangdang, Myeongbujeon, and Hyangnojeon.

I first visited Bulgapsa by chance during my twenties, while traveling through South Jeolla Province. More than ten years passed before I found my way back, and when I did, the atmosphere of the temple felt strangely unfamiliar — changed enough from what I remembered to throw me off balance. Wandering through the grounds, I could make out faint traces here and there of what the place had looked like a decade before, but for the most part it felt as though I were visiting for the first time. The layout of the precinct and the positions of the halls had not changed, so I kept asking myself why it all felt so foreign — and eventually the answer presented itself: the roof tiles. As it turned out, all the main halls had been completely re-roofed within the past few years.

Outside the temple grounds, too, much had changed. Ten years ago, I remembered it as a quiet, unhurried place with almost no visitor facilities to speak of — just the temple, sitting peacefully on its own. I have a clear memory of taking a taxi all the way to the temple entrance because there was nothing else around. On this return visit, however, a large parking lot had been laid out, and a cluster of shops and commercial establishments had grown up around the bus stop at the entrance. Traveling to well-known temples across the country, one encounters this pattern in many places — and Bulgapsa has followed the same path, equipping itself with the full range of amenities that modern visitors have come to expect. That, more than anything else, is what has transformed the place.

If you would like to experience a unique side of Korea, the "Land of the Morning Calm," please feel free to reach out. I host small, private guided tours tailored for international visitors.

Contact: 7sevensmart@gmail.com

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