Thousands of people in Taiwan regularly attend church, millions more go to temples or shrines to pay tribute to various deities. But there is a small group of people who go further in demonstrating their religious devotion, often by sacrificing the comforts of modern life, their homes, and families. What kind of lives do they lead?
Augustine Chen and Stanislas Su became brides on July 28 this year in a ceremony presided by the archbishop who oversees the diocese of Taipei. They each received a wedding band to symbolize their matrimony and lifelong commit ment, but instead of taking vows to share their lives with a husband, these women vowed to lead a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience as they entered a permanent union with the Holy Spirit.
Sisters Augustine and Stanislas spent the last eight years of their lives preparing for the Nuptial Mass. They took two years to acclimatize to convent life and a six-year internship at the St. Martha Institute in Hualien County. "This long process gives novices time to discover whether they're able to cope with the hardships of a nun's life," says Sister Gemma Hu, president of the St. Martha Institute. "New entrants are admitted to the convent when they choose to obey their vocations, but they have the opportunity to think it over. It's very challenging to dedicate an entire life to serving God's will, to abide by the austere disciplines of the convent, and to live in a close-knit community with other nuns."
During the first two years of acclimatization, novices may leave the convent with the permission of their mentors. Once this trial period is completed, the junior sisters take a vow each year for the first three years of their internship; after the third year they take a three-year vow. When the internship is completed, they may take a lifelong vow, which is considered marriage with the Holy Spirit. Junior sisters who have made temporary vows may opt not to renew them and withdraw, while those who have made lifelong commitments may request to leave the convent and ask for God's condonation.
The daily routine for nuns is clearly defined, but disagreements about how things should be done do occur. In the end, the nuns say their spiritual bond and mutual love for God transcend such differences. Sister Stanislas Su compares convent life to pebbles in a river--the flowing stream of water polishes each pebble over time, without affecting their individuality. "I didn't realize that nuns could have such a great sense of humor until I came to live with them," she recalls. "But even with delightful companions, the road is still bumpy." Sister Augustine Chen also alludes to personal struggles. "There are times when I feel incompetent," she says. "My frailty is my enemy. If I didn't have God's guidance, I would have lost the fight completely."
The primary task for the sisters of St. Martha is to offer religious education to preschool children. Many sisters are sent to other areas of Taiwan while six are sent to the Philippines to teach at kindergartens. One is currently in Canada receiving additional training on the Montessori teaching method. The sisters also engage in social services, such as caring for the sick and poor, visiting parishioners, and assisting parish priests in church rituals. Aptitude is not a consideration in the job assignments as the sisters rotate their duties. According to Sister Gemma Hu, the hardest part about being a nun is not the heavy workload or the rigid discipline but the constant exposure to the suffering of others and the emotional drain this entails.
Master Lien-chang, a Buddhist nun, has dealt with the suffering of others from an early age. She began to care for others when she was eight years old and living in Tainan County in southern Taiwan. The young girl, who did not have a clear idea of what Buddhism represented, helped care for a mentally ill woman at a neighborhood temple. After years of involvement with the temple, Master Lien-chang decided to become a nun at the age of eighteen. "I wasn't inspired by any individual or the divine," she says. "Nor was I disappointed with the world. I was a happy girl who had a loving family. Caring for others brought me great pleasure and I wanted to fill my life with that kind of joy. Becoming a nun was a natural choice for me."
The young novice was ordained a year after her tonsure, which involved learning how to live the life of a nun and having her head shaven. "Novice nuns perform a range of duties," she notes. "They recite scriptures five times a day, cook, clean, receive guests, process paperwork, and maintain the sanctuary, among other tasks." Four years after being ordained, Master Lien-chang began to organize symposiums and study camps, and help establish Buddhist orders. Her journey to receiving Dharma transmission, the point where one is considered a master, was much longer. It took ten years, during which time she regularly visited Tibet in search of Buddhist Sutras. She has been known to immerse herself in sutras that interest her and once spent close to a year by a cemetery, secluded from the rest of the world.
Master Lien-chang also writes of Buddhist teachings during her self-imposed confinement and a number of these works have been published into books which have in turn prompted invitations from around the world to lecture. In addition to the nun's social work and writing, she also established the China Wu-yean Blind Protector Association with the help of a number of lay Buddhists. The association has printed Buddhist scriptures in Braille and recorded them on audio tape. And apart from helping place the visually impaired in jobs, the association also encourages them to pursue interests in the performing arts.
After twenty years of complete devotion, Master Lien-chang continues to display an unyielding belief in Buddhism. For her, the journey to enlightenment is not a matter of life or death but a state of transcendence. "Death is not horrible," she says. "Fear is. Physical pain isn't scary, a miserable heart is. Restless hearts suffer out of endless obsessions. Once we accept that impermanence is the nature of being, we can calm our minds and begin to see things differently."
Buddhist nuns such as Master Lien-chang are easily discernable from the rest of the population in Taiwan due to their distinctive saffron robes and shaved heads. In contrast, the supreme spiritual leader of the Islamic community, or imam, is not. Ma Shioa-chi, goes about his day at the Taipei Grand Mosque--tending to the institution's affairs, promoting the mosque, leading Muslims in prayer, counseling, and occasionally advocating the welfare of Islamic foreign laborers--largely unnoticed by those outside the faith. "The imam used to work on a voluntary basis and the job was performed by a revered Muslim," Imam Ma notes. "Our membership now demands more time and effort from the imam. I was therefore elected by the mosque's board of directors to fill this full-time post." The selection process was based on the candidates' religious faith and knowledge, interpersonal skills, education, and ability to perform administrative and spiritual duties.
Imam Ma was born to an Islamic family from Nanking, who moved to Taiwan in 1949. "I relied on my parents and the mosque for my religious knowledge," he says. "But it was all very fuzzy for me as a child. Advances in my understanding of Islam didn't come until I began studying in Arab countries. Islamic teachings prescribe a set of precepts that demand strict conformation. Worship to Allah must take place five times daily at precise hours. An Islamic diet must never include pork, blood, reptiles, liquor, or anything considered unclean. All Muslim women must cover their bodies with only their faces and hands exposed. Islamic commandments are an intelligent guidance from Allah to ensure a proper, decent human life."
The difficulties in being a devout Muslim in Taiwan are numerous primarily because there are relatively few devotees. For instance, there are only a small number of restaurants that serve halal food, or meat that has been properly slaughtered according to the rules of Islam, and schools do not accommodate Muslim students' special dietary needs, nor does the military.
There are more than 50,000 Muslims in Taiwan. Imam Ma estimates that the community takes in thirty or forty new converts a year; however, the number of those assimilated by the mainstream culture also continues to grow. While the mosque offers classes in Arabic as a part of its out-reach program, Imam Ma believes it is also important to spread the word of Islam and dispel any doubts or misunderstandings the public may harbor about the faith.
Spreading the word of religious belief has been around for centuries. Troy Peterson is a missionary from the Free Methodist Church of North America who came to Taiwan in 1991 with his family. He initially taught at the Shen-kuang Seminary located in Kaohsiung, southern Taiwan, and after teaching for nearly four years, Peterson was invited to teach English over the radio. "One of the joys of being a missionary is having the freedom to choose how one performs his or her duties," he says. "Even when a certain role is required of a missionary, there's still the opportunity to be creative, especially in a cross-cultural environment."
According to Peterson, the Taiwan Missionary Fellowship has a membership of approximately 1,000 foreign missionaries affiliated with over a hundred mission groups. While some missionaries are self-sufficient, most are sponsored by missions, dominations, and churches either in Taiwan or abroad. "A missionary's sense of calling to the ministry is from God; it's not just a job he or she decided to do," Peterson points out. "What a missionary does is seen in the long term, perhaps ten to forty years." The decision to assign a missionary to a particular country is often based on his or her ability to perform a service and to acquire a foreign language. On the other hand, a missionary can accept or reject an assignment due to personal reasons. "I would have to take my family, especially my daughters' education, into consideration if I were reassigned to another location," he adds.
While the Peterson family now seems quite at home in Taiwan, they initially had a somewhat difficult time adjusting. "It took me almost two years before I could eat any Chinese food," Peterson grins. "We ate American fast food because that was the only choice we had. Now we eat Chinese food seven days a week, and I love it. We've also made many friends. People here are very friendly, genuine, delightful, and interesting. Above all, Taiwan is a safe place even after dark. There're times when I feel anxious to return home, but when I go home, I start missing Taiwan."
Peterson has had the opportunity to return to the United States as a pastor, but chose to remain because he enjoys his work as a broadcaster and as a missionary, reaching out to non-Christians. He also relishes the chance to be working overseas among people of another culture. Evan Hsu, senior pastor at the Grace Baptist Church in Taipei, was already familiar with Taiwan's culture when he returned from the United States in 1992. "I became a Christian when I was thirty-one," Hsu recalls. "I was working on my Ph.D. at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and had joined a Bible study group a year earlier."
Hsu finished his Ph.D. and moved to San Diego where he worked as a senior scientist with General Atomics International. He continued to study the Bible and became a lay pastor, going from church to church as Chinese-speaking pastors were much in demand. In 1990, he quit his well-paid job and registered as a full-time student at a seminary. He was later inspired to return to Taiwan in 1992 during the Year 2000 Gospel Movement. Hsu was ordained in 1993 and took up his post at Grace Baptist Church a year later. "I think we all have a basic longing for the truth," the pastor says. "I finally found it in the Bible. The more I read, the stronger my need to communicate with the Lord became. I have learned to pray and listen to others. I used to be a shy and introverted person, but the Lord trained me in many different ways, making me more outgoing. He paved the road and I followed it."
Not all of his family and friends were supportive of his decision to abandon his scientific pursuits for a spiritual one, but Pastor Hsu stresses that the decision was logical. "There're more than enough scientists in the world, but never enough pastors." An increasing number of skilled professionals, many with doctoral degrees, are giving up their day jobs to serve the church, but there is still a shortage in the field, he notes. There are only a few churches that have programs where working pastors can receive advanced training or further education. The Grace Baptist Church has just implemented a system whereby pastors rotate their duties so they may have a moment to renew their energy. There are about 1,700 regular participants at the weekly sermons, but Pastor Hsu has only three other pastors to share the responsibilities.
Dan Western, or Elder Western, is a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He arrived from Idaho in the United States in 1999 at the age of nineteen to serve the standard two-year term. As is customary for Mormon missionaries, Elder Western works with a companion, Adam Tervort from Missouri. Their job initially was to make contact with people and spread the Gospel, but they are now assistants to the church's mission president.
In order to allow themselves to fully concentrate on their work, Mormon missionaries are not permitted to date, watch TV, read newspapers, correspond via email, or go to the movie theaters. They call home twice a year, respectively on Christmas and Mother's Day. They do not drink coffee, tea, or alcohol, and do not use tobacco. Their daily routine begins at 6:30 A.M. when they wake up to study the scriptures and Chinese language. At 9:30 A.M., they begin their twelve-hour task of meeting people, visiting members of the church, and helping members introduce their friends to the Gospel. On weekends, they teach English at the church and worship. Although their lives are busy, the young missionaries do not complain. "We learn to plan our day really well," Elder Tervort says. "The rules help us do what we're doing a little better."
According to Thomas P. Nielson, temple president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Taipei and a missionary to Taiwan in 1957, the church has expanded from zero in the 1950s to seven stakes (the equivalent of a Catholic diocese) with more than 30,000 members islandwide. Two more districts will soon be turned into stakes. There are also three head offices for Mormon missionaries, in Taipei, Taichung, and Kaohsiung, respectively. The cities are divided into zones, each directed by a leader who is in charge of a number of missionaries. Elder Western estimates that there are about 475 missionaries recruiting an average of 150 new members to the church every month.
Elders Western and Tervort are both from Mormon families. They have a shared passion to bring their message to those in other countries amid foreign cultures. Although they experienced some culture shock upon their arrival, they adapted within a few months. They now favor a typical Taiwanese breakfast of soybean milk and steamed buns with eggs, and ride through the streets of Taipei with little fear. "On our bicycles we just go along with the scooters," Elder Western notes. "People here are the nicest I've ever met," Elder Tervort adds. "They're very kind to us on the road, even if they don't want to listen to our message. We've made lots of friends."
The familiar sight of these young men--dressed in their white shirts and ties, riding their bikes through the busy streets --is destined to fade into history. "All the leadership positions, including temple president, will be turned over to local members," Nielson points out. "So we're enjoying being here while we can." Their message may not be accepted by all who care to listen, but their polite manner and earnest efforts have won them a place in the hearts of many Taiwanese who will undoubtedly miss them.