by Frans De Ridder, CICM
On March 8, while in Taipei for a meeting, I paid a visit to the Lung Shan Temple in the heart of Wan Hua. This is the area where CICM has been evangelizing since l956 and where we are still active, in charge of three small parishes and one bigger one.
Joining the crowd in the Lung Shan Temple (Dragon Mountain), I felt overwhelmed. Literally thousands and thousands of people walked in and out. Most of them hurried to buy the joss sticks and went without shame or embarrassment to one of the many tripods where they could burn their incense and pray. It fascinated me and countless questions came up in my mind. What draws people here, what are they looking for, what do they pray for … on a regular Saturday morning (*)? I noticed also mountains of beautiful flowers, lavishly displayed, for people to buy and to offer; mountains of fruits. I was also intrigued by dozens of devout people, men and women, kneeling while reading and chanting holy texts from their scriptures, unperturbed by the noise of the endless crowds around them. More towards the edges of the temple compound I noticed monks (bonzes) in their colorful robes; some were bowing reverently in prayer, while others were sitting down in a rather casual way, with their rosary in the hands, moving mechanically from one bead to another, blissfully chitchatting with each other.
In a small annex was the place where people could consult geomancers who can foretell the future. People's fate can be discovered from selecting a thin bamboo with a cryptic message that can only be understood by specialists. This place obviously reflects most people's worries and anxieties: what is in store for me, what will my future be? And yes, noise, plenty of it. Stillness and tranquility, silence and recollectedness are not precisely the most striking features of a visit to a temple. My camera shot some good close-ups of people in deep prayer. Deep down in my heart I knew that, right now, all our Catholic churches would be empty. What are people looking for here…and apparently they can not find it in our churches. My observations are a guess, maybe a superficial interpretation or a shallow assessment. I wish that confreres in Taipei could correct me and enlighten me. What did I see?
I had the impression that most people are here with a very individual agenda. I hardly noticed any interaction between the thousands of pilgrims. From their facial expression I thought being able to "read" that people were tense and worried, trying very hard to please the gods, to ward off evil and danger. It reminded me of the Chinese wisdom: "Jing erh yuan chi," freely translated as: Respect the gods yet keep a (safe) distance from them! Would that be the underlying, maybe subconscious basic attitude of the devotees? Is it controlled by fear and a strong urge to please the gods (deity) in the hope that blessings may follow almost in a magic way? Are these human efforts for getting the deities on our side and inherit a blessing: good health, success in business, free from all worry? Once in the past I had asked devotees: "When you pray so earnestly, what do you say?" The most common answer was: Ping An wu shih: peace and no trouble!
From the dragon temple I walked slowly to the Church of Saint Theresa, a national Catholic Shrine or pilgrim place, founded by our confrere, the late Father Andrew Baert, some fifty years ago. It was his dream, his vision to have a Catholic counterpart of this extremely popular temple. Indeed the church was empty but for one man, mentally deranged who was talking to himself. Praise God, I know from personal experience, that during the novena of Saint Theresa of Lisieux thousands of Catholics from all over the island come to this sanctuary, keeping our confreres on tiptoes for nine days. Is there a difference between what I experienced and observed in the Lung Shan Temple and what happens during the yearly novena, nine days before 1st of October?
These thoughts haunted me for the rest of the day, until I was invited to preside the celebration of the Eucharist in the chapel of our Kuang Ren Middle School. Some 60 to 70 people joined us, mostly simple plain folks. I must confess that I enjoyed every minute of it. There was 'warmth', there were many joyful faces, there were meaningful songs with rich lyrics; people knew each other and smiled as they exchanged the sign of peace. After the Mass they did not run away. In short, there was a presence, an experience of God, a holy glow. Would this be the difference? People are interested in each other. People are focused on a loving God who is really present. The God they worship and come close to is not a frightening cold indifferent deity one must please and win over to our side. Apparently, people are aware that God is love, and that in celebrating the Eucharist together this loving God is really present. They may not think about it, they just enjoy it, they feel it. In the Temple I noticed huge crowds of individuals, most of them rather worried and tense. Here in our Catholic Church I experienced a community who enjoyed each other, the people of God, the family of God's children. The crowds in the Lung Shan Temple by far outnumbered the small community of God's people. Yet I cannot deny that there was a difference in quality, in experiencing a mystery that goes beyond all understanding. It may sound judgmental as I try a cautious assessment: in the Temple I had the impression that people were rather self-centered, whereas in our Catholic Church people were more God-centered and other-centered. I used for a while the terms crowd and community. Would that be the difference? Are people, 'seduced' by the same God, aware of being in the presence of a loving God, drawn into a community?
Where love and charity prevail there God will always be. The Catholic Church may not be very successful in Taiwan. Numbers remain discouragingly small. It must be frustrating for our confreres. Their hard work seemingly does not pay off. Do numbers matter? Not really! What matters is the presence of God. If God is there and can be experienced in the quality of interpersonal relationships, then CICM did not live and toil in vain in Wan Hua for all these fifty years.
(*) Later, sharing my experience with friends, I got the answer as to why there was such a big crowd in the Lung Shan Temple: March 8 is the birthday of Tu Di Gung, the God of Earth.