When I was a student, our school held an annual sports competition called the Blue-and-White Games. We were divided into two teams—blue and white—and each side gave their all, shouting and cheering with passion. The excitement of those days still feels vivid to me. When one side cried, “Go, Blue Team!” the other would respond, “Go, White Team!” in return. The competition was fierce, yet after it was all over, we would stand together on the same field, smiling for photos. Looking back, it was nothing more than deep blue blending into light blue.

Back then, it was a simple, healthy rivalry. But as the years went by and I entered adulthood, the colors of society began to change. In Korea, the winds of democratization were blowing strongly, and the friendly blue-and-white competition gradually turned into the sharp conflict between blue and red. By the 2000s, this polarization had become a global phenomenon. Nations, ideologies, politics, and personal beliefs began to take on distinct colors, dividing people and pushing them apart.

Even today, both the country I live in—New Zealand—and my homeland, Korea, remain caught in this tension between blue and red. In such a world, can a “violet life” truly exist?
It reminds me of the principle of magnetism: a magnet has a north and south pole, each exerting opposing forces of attraction and repulsion. Yet there exists a single point of perfect balance between the two—a point physicists call the magnetic neutral zone, where the magnetic force equals zero. Violet is like that. It is born from the perfect harmony of two contrasting colors, the place where tension becomes balance.

While pondering this, a movie came to mind—What Dreams May Come (1998), which I first watched in 2006 during my theology studies in an English-speaking seminary. It was recommended by one of my professors and released in Korea under the title The Miracle of Love. Though following the English dialogue was difficult for me at the time, the film’s message has stayed with me ever since.

The story goes like this: a happy family loses their two children in a tragic accident. Overcome by grief, the mother eventually takes her own life. The husband later dies in an accident as well and finds himself in heaven, where he is reunited with his family. What struck me most was the film’s depiction of heaven—it was painted entirely in shades of violet. The wife, an artist, had expressed her pain and longing through paintings filled with violet flowers. And in that violet world, the husband finally meets her again.

Now that I think about it, that violet wasn’t just a color—it was a symbol. It was the color of love, forgiveness, and restoration. It was the hue created when two separate beings came together as one. That is what violet represents.

Our lives are much the same. At times, we burn with the fiery red of passion and emotion, while at other times, we cool with the calm blue of reason and thought. When these two meet—not in conflict, but in understanding and acceptance—something beautiful emerges: violet. It is the color of love, and I believe it is the light of life that God desires for us to live by.

I hope that all of us may live such a vital life today—a life not of extremes and division, but of warm harmony born from our differences. That, I believe, is the color of life that pleases God.