Although Chen Hui-chun (陳慧君) has long considered herself a Buddhist, she can’t say when she became one. As a child, she remembers her mother taking her to the temple to burn incense and make offerings of canned food, cookies, and fruit. She also learned to repeat the Buddhist chant “Amitabha” whenever she needed spiritual strength. But until recently, she had never given much thought to what it really meant to be a Buddhist and had never read any of the teachings of the religion.
About five years ago, Chen noticed that people around her were starting to take a greater interest in Buddhism. “All of a sudden, everybody was wearing prayer beads on their wrists,” she recalls. “Books on Zen and Buddhist culture were making the bestseller list, and there were frequent announcements for Buddhist speeches, meditation classes, and retreat camps.” When a friend introduced her to a monk, she was impressed enough by his talks that she eventually went through a ceremony to become one of his followers. “I barely knew what the religion was about,” she says, “but I enjoyed listening to people who could look at things from a Buddhist perspective, which is always more forgiving. I wanted to find the ‘pure land’ of Buddhism in this chaotic society.”
A group visits the remote living quarters of a prominent master. Buddhism has seen a phenomenal increase in followers in the past decade, from 800,000 to 4.8 million.
Chen’s experience has been repeated by thousands of people around Taiwan in the last decade, creating a phenomenal increase in Buddhist followers. According to the Ministry of the Interior, the island’s population of Buddhists has grown from 800,000 in 1983 to 4.8 million in 1993, a 600 percent increase. The number of registered Buddhist temples has multiplied as well, from 1,157 to 4,020 for the same period, and monks and nuns now number more than 9,000, up from 3,470 in 1983.
The ranks of other faiths have also swelled in recent years. Taoism—the island’s leading religion before 1984—added more than 2 million followers over the same ten-year period, for a total of 3.6 million. And Christian religions, primarily Catholicism and Presbyterianism, have grown from 600,000 to more than 700,000. Yet by far the biggest gain has been in Buddhism.
But the religion is not only attracting new followers. The growing numbers also reflect a fundamental change in the way Buddhism has been practiced in Taiwan for hundreds of years. Philosophy professor Yang Hui-nan (楊惠南) explains that Buddhism has gained followers primarily by becoming more visible and active in society. “Instead of staying passively behind temple walls chanting and meditating, monks and nuns are traveling the streets to publicize their religion,” Yang says. “You see them giving speeches, teaching meditation, and publishing books. For the past decade, Buddhist groups have been trying more aggressively than ever to attract new followers.”
From its beginnings with just thirty fundraisers, the Tzu Chi Foundation has become Taiwan’s largest charity organization. Here, students attend class at the foundation’s nursing school.
At the same time, the public has become more responsive to the zeal of religious leaders. Yang attributes this to the rapid social change that has taken place in Taiwan. “Chaotic times are times for religion,” he says. “People need something spiritual to cling to.” But this does not account for why Buddhism has far outstripped other faiths in attracting followers. “It’s really because of the monks and nuns reaching out,” Yang says. “That’s what has made the difference.”
This trend toward reaching out into society can be traced back to the concept of “worldly Buddhism” advocated in the 1930s by the Mainland Chinese monk Tai-hsu (太虛). (Like all monks and nuns, Tai-hsu adopted the surname Shih 釋, but is known by his first name. Those who are younger and less established are addressed by the title “Venerable,” whereas those of higher standing are called “Master.”) Master Tai-hsu opposed the emphasis of the Pure Land sect—until then the most influential school of Buddhism in China—which encouraged followers to focus on trying to reach nirvana through prayer and deity worship (see story on page 20). He advocated a Buddhism that was centered on the living world. Some of his disciples elaborated on his ideas, particularly the well-known monk Yin-shun (印順), who brought his teacher’s message to Taiwan in the 1950s. Master Ying-shun felt that directing one’s spiritual endeavors on seeking nirvana was an escapist attitude. Like his mentor, he encouraged his disciples to assume an active role in society.
Statues for home worship—Simple, informal Buddhist practices have long been a part of life for many Taiwan families. But today’s followers are taking a more serious interest in the religion.
Another important influence in the early stages of the local movement was the magazine Torch of Wisdom, which was first published in the 1960s. By helping establish a network of clubs on university campuses and appealing to young intellectuals, the magazine drew in more followers who were interested in studying the teachings of Buddhism rather than merely going through superficial worship rituals.
But worldly Buddhism didn’t really take off until the early 1980s, when a number of monks and nuns began gaining widespread attention with a hands-on approach—not only in attracting followers and donations, but also in promoting charity work and social causes. Today, these leaders are at the helms of high-profile temples and foundations, and in some cases their names are practically household words.
Master Hsing-yun (星雲), for example, has developed a highly popular image as the leader of Fokuangshan, the largest network of Buddhist temples on the island. Having explicitly stated the intention of carrying out the ideals of Master Tai-hsu, he has gotten his message across at huge rallies, through magazines and books, and on Buddhist TV programs. And Master Cheng-yen (證嚴), a disciple of Master Yin-shun, heads the island’s largest and best-known charity organization, the Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation, which runs a hospital and has 1 million active members. Like most high-ranking Buddhists, Master Cheng-yen frequently appears in the media, often accompanied by celebrities and politicians. Recently, she was joined by President Lee Teng-hui at the opening of the Tzu Chi Medical College.
Many of today’s monks and nuns are taking up even more non-traditional roles, getting involved in everything from higher education to environmental causes. Master Hui-wan (曉雲), for example, recently founded the island’s first Buddhist college, and Master Sheng-yen (聖嚴) of the Dharma Drum Mountain Cultural and Educational Foundation has undertaken numerous environmental projects and has also raised more than US$150,000 for city and county drug rehabilitation programs. Others have become regular participants in wildlife conservation hearings and anti-nuclear protests.
According to Professor Yang Hui-nan, the community-centered approach that has developed among Buddhists in Taiwan is really nothing new in the history of the religion. In centuries past, when Buddhists were suppressed or persecuted by China’s rulers, they did take refuge in their monasteries. But whenever they were in favor, as in the ninth and tenth centuries, they emerged and took part in the world. “In the Tang dynasty, Buddhist groups were making great contributions to society,” Yang says. “They opened banks and offered zero-interest loans to the poor. They opened shelters providing temporary boarding for the needy. They did almost everything you can think of.” Chinese Buddhism, he explains, originally taught monks and nuns that their mission was to deliver all beings, not just themselves. The current trend is again heading in this direction. ‘‘I’d call it a Buddhist renaissance,” Yang says.
Buddhist groups in Taiwan have made their biggest impact through well-organized charity services. As of 1993, according to the Buddhist Association of the ROC, they were operating or giving substantial financial support to seven hospitals, ten homes for the elderly, five orphanages, and three clinics. And of the millions of U.S. dollars in donations that Buddhist groups receive every year, more than a third is passed on as aid to poor families or victims of natural disasters.
While nearly every Buddhist organization and many temples are involved in charity work, the Tzu Chi Foundation has been at the forefront. Over the years, it has provided tens of thousands of needy families with financial assistance, health care, household repairs, and other volunteer services.
Fokuangshan, the island’s largest Buddhist temple complex, is known for its scores of glistening statues. Located in southern Taiwan, it also includes a seminary, publishing house, and a small museum.
The Tzu Chi Hospital, set up in 1986 in Hualien, is the largest in eastern Taiwan, an area where access to medical aid has traditionally been below average. The hospital has 750 beds and an outpatient clinic that serves about 1,500 people a day. Patients pay according to their financial ability. The Tzu Chi Foundation was also instrumental in setting up the island’s first data bank for bone-marrow donors, attracting about 50,000 people to sign up and undergo tests as potential donors—the largest such listing for ethnic Chinese bone marrow.
Plans are also under way for a branch hospital in the south-island county of Chiayi. Again, the intention is to bring medical services where they are most needed. The area currently has only seven hospital beds for every 10,000 people, far below the islandwide average of forty-six beds. “We try not to duplicate the services provided by public health departments,” says Hsu Hsiang-ming (徐祥明), an administrator at the Tzu Chi headquarters. “We don’t intend to substitute for what the government should be doing. We just want to supplement it.”
Master Cheng-yen, the founder of Tzu Chi, started out in 1966 with only a small-scale fundraising project for the needy. She encouraged housewives to make a small donation from their daily food budget. At the same time, a group of followers raised money by making and selling baby shoes. Today, Tzu Chi has developed from a thirty-member organization to one of approximately 10,000 volunteers and more than 1 million active members. Another 2 million people are listed as having made donations. Through such donations, the foundation draws in millions of U.S. dollars every year. In addition, Tzu Chi has an agreement with the Chinatrust Commercial Bank, which offers its patrons a special Lotus credit card. For each purchase made on the card, the bank donates about .3 percent of the purchase price to the foundation.
Disaster relief is another area in which Buddhist organizations are making a distinct mark. This past summer, for example, Tzu Chi, along with several other Buddhist groups, was quick to provide help when a series of typhoons hit the island and caused severe flooding in central and southern Taiwan. “We organized emergency groups in different areas that assisted the county governments in transporting food, clothing, and drinking water to flooded areas, and joined the police in rescue work,” says Yang Liang-ta (楊亮達), a fundraising volunteer. The relief effort also continued after the flood waters had subsided. “Volunteers cleaned up the streets, fixed broken fences, and stood on the street corners asking for donations,” Yang says.
Tzu Chi has also been at the forefront in extending its relief aid overseas. In 1991, it became the first charity organization in Taiwan to undertake disaster work in Mainland China, collecting almost US$12 million to help flood victims. Many volunteers traveled to the stricken villages at their own expense to help with reconstructing homes and schools. The foundation has also provided aid and volunteers for disaster relief in Mongolia, Ethiopia, Nepal, and Bangladesh. And in Rwanda this year, Tzu Chi has been a major provider of medical supplies, working in cooperation with the Paris-based group Medecins du Monde. Although Tzu Chi has encountered some criticism for going overseas rather than concentrating all its charity efforts in Taiwan, the organization remains committed to including other countries in its relief work. “Taiwan used to be a recipient of foreign aid—now that we are able to offer help, we feel obliged to do so,” Yang says. “Shouldn’t compassion transcend race, nationality, and geographical distance?”
The extensive charity work under taken by groups such as Tzu Chi has helped to further the cause of worldly Buddhism. “Our master [Cheng-yen] says the goal of a real Buddhist is to carry out Buddhist ideals, not to study Buddhism per se,” says Tzu Chi administrator Hsu Hsiang-ming. “The real meaning of Buddhism lies in doing. At Tzu Chi, we put words into action.”
Evening prayers—Buddhism teaches its adherents to help deliver all beings from worldly suffering, not just themselves.
Education is another sphere of influence in which Buddhists are increasingly making their mark. Buddhist clubs continue to play a role on college campuses, with more than ninety associations now active. In addition, more than thirty institutes devoted to the religion operate around the island, and about seventy kindergartens and half a dozen middle schools are supported by Buddhist groups.
But the most significant development in the area of education has been the Huafan College of Technology and Humanities, founded in 1990 by 83-year-old Master Hiu-wan in Taipei county. The island’s first Buddhist-affiliated four-year college, Huafan has about one thousand students and departments for industrial management, engineering, architecture, industrial design, Chinese literature, and foreign languages and literature. In addition, it has a Graduate Institute of Asian Humanities.
An experienced teacher—in primary and secondary schools as well as universities—Master Hiu-wan first began to consider opening a Buddhist college in the 1960s. Her friends encouraged her, emphasizing that Taiwan had colleges run by Protestants and Catholics, but none run by Buddhists. Although stymied by a government freeze on new universities, she was able to start a small-scale Institute of Sino-Indian Buddhist Studies in 1980. When the freeze was lifted in 1986, she found a piece of land and set about raising money. An accomplished artist, she started out by selling her paintings in Hong Kong and elsewhere. Her followers also rallied behind her, setting up a number of fundraising campaigns. Eventually, they were able to raise the minimum US$12 million in capital required by the government for establishing a university, and Master Hui-wan set about building her school. Current fundraising efforts continue to focus on relatively small private donations rather than pursuing large corporate sponsors. “We avoid accepting money from big businesses,” Master Hiu-wan says. “We don’t want them to become major investors because it could have a negative effect on our original educational ideals. Money is critical, but we can’t accept it from just any source.”
Buddhist prayer beads are no longer seen only in the hands of monks. They are now popular accessories among the general public.
While students at the school study standard subjects, they also take courses in Buddhist philosophy. “I want to teach my students and faculty to cultivate wisdom and mercifulness and to have a good influence on others,” says Master Hiu-wan. “In setting up this school, I’ve planted some seeds that I hope will sprout and grow into a tree that can spread more seeds and make a difference in this world.”
Three other universities supported by Buddhist groups are also under construction. Last year, the Dharma Drum Mountain Foundation began building a College of Humanities and Social Sciences in Taipei county. The school will emphasize religious studies and translation and is scheduled to open in several years. Hsuan-tsang University (named after a famous Tang dynasty monk), sponsored by the Buddhist Cultural and Educational Foundation and located in the north-island city of Hsinchu, plans to start recruiting students in 1996.
Nearest to completion is a liberal arts university being built by Fokuangshan in the east-island county of Ilan. It will begin accepting students next year. Fokuangshan also promotes Buddhist studies through a special annual examination that gives those who are interested a chance to test their knowledge of the religion. First begun five years ago, the examination is now international, with versions available in more than ten languages. This year, some 200,000 people took the test in one hundred locations around the world.
Many Buddhist groups have tried to reach out to the people through publications. While free leaflets and newsletters have long been available at temples and similar locations, many organizations are now putting out thick, professional-looking magazines that are able to attract paying subscribers. Among the forty-eight Buddhist periodicals registered with the government, some of the more popular are Fokuangshan’s monthly magazine Universal Gale, Dharma Drum Mountain’s Life, and Golden Lotus, published by a group of Buddhist supporters.
With a circulation of approximately 36,000 worldwide, Universal Gate is the largest and most impressive of these publications. After starting up in 1979 as a small give-away that simply reported on the internal affairs of Fokuangshan and always featured the standard Buddhist saint on its cover, the magazine underwent a makeover five years ago. With the intention of appealing to both believers and nonbelievers, Universal Gate became bigger, livelier, and more colorful. It now sells for about US$4.50 a copy and looks almost like any lifestyle magazine, with two hundred pages of feature stories, columns on art, society, and psychology, and a wide variety of advertisements.
The magazine maintains its religious identity through inspirational articles, comic strips on Buddhist classics, reports on controversial topics among Buddhist circles, and announcements of speeches, seminars, retreat camps, and other Buddhist-sponsored activities. Says Ven. Yung-yun (永芸), a Fokuangshan nun and the president of Universal Gate, “A magazine can be a powerful tool in promoting Buddhism. We want to attract readers and have an impact on society.”
Besides its magazine, Fokuangshan also runs the Fo Kuang Publishing House, which has put out about three hundred books, cassettes, and videotapes since it was established in 1959. While the company’s earlier publications focused on serious works, such as collections of sutras and scholarly papers on Buddhism, recent titles also include more popular books, including prose, poetry, and fiction with Buddhist themes. Some of the biggest sellers, which are available at many bookshops and convenience stores, focus on Zen approaches to health and career development.
A separate Department of Editing and Compilation run by the temple is involved in several ongoing projects, including writing interpretative notes and pronunciation guides for classical Buddhist texts, as well as translating such texts into modern Chinese. Another major project is a Buddhist dictionary.
Master Hsing-yun, the leader of Fokuangshan, is himself a writer—one reason why the group has put so much emphasis on publishing. “He has written biographies of Sakyamuni [the founder of Buddhism] and his disciples,” Ven. Yung-yun says, “and he even wrote a story about a monk that was made into a TV serial drama a couple of years ago.” In fact, Master Hsing-yun has himself had a long-time presence on television. In 1979, Fokuangshan first began running a regular Buddhist-oriented TV spot, which continued on and off over the years. Today, it airs a five-minute program, called Master Hsing-yun Says, every weekday morning on CTS, one of Taiwan’s three broadcast stations. Numerous other Buddhist groups have followed Fokuangshan’s lead, airing their own videotaped programs on religious channels sponsored by the island’s many cable TV companies.
Another way in which Buddhist groups have reached into the community is by embracing environmental causes. One of the leaders in this area, the Dharma Drum Mountain Foundation, started by making its own temple a model of environmental awareness. Among other things, it uses non-polluting baking-soda detergents, recycles bottles and paper, and holds an annual garage sale to help people pass on their secondhand items rather than discard them. Followers are encouraged to choose reusable substitutes for plastic bags, packaged chopsticks, styrofoam plates, and other disposables. Dharma Drum volunteers are also involved in many neighborhood cleanup projects, and the foundation has raised money to help establish a project at the Taipei City Zoo for treating wounded birds.
Ven. Kuo-hsiang (果祥), a Dharma Drum nun, says the foundation has not taken this direction simply because antipollution and conservation have become hot topics. “It’s not just to jump on the bandwagon,” she says. “It’s because for two thousand years, Buddhism has taught us not to kill or waste, a philosophy that happens to coincide with modern environmental protection concepts. We are promoting the correct Buddhist way.” The philosophy actually goes even further, Ven. Kuo-hsiang explains, by linking protection of the natural environment with protection of the spiritual environment. “Our final goal,” she says, “is through environmental protection to purify the human mind and upgrade the human character.”
One way Dharma Drum combines these two concerns is by urging people to be less wasteful in conducting weddings and birthday parties—celebrations that often involve elaborate expense in Chinese society. Rather then spending money on huge banquets and entertainment, Dharma Drum encourages more modest and meaningful activities. In October this year, the foundation sponsored a group wedding ceremony and simple reception that were preceded by lectures on how to get along with one’s spouse. And in September, a group birthday party for senior citizens featured speeches by children thanking their parents for everything they had done for them.
The growing tendency in Taiwan to hold increasingly extravagant funerals—with some families putting on outdoor stage shows featuring singers and, on occasion, even striptease artists—has also been targeted by Dharma Drum. “The mobile stage shows are indecent and are destroying Taiwan’s image,” says Ven. Kuo-hsiang. Even standard funerals, she says, can be problematic. They may go on for weeks and are often set up on street-sides or in alleys under makeshift tents, obstructing traffic and causing noise pollution. And sometimes great quantities of spirit money are burned as sacrificial offerings, a practice that may be religious in intention, but that also pollutes the air. Dharma Drum funerals are more modest and spiritually oriented. “Many rituals are not necessary,” Ven. Kuo-hsiang says. “We organize a group that includes volunteers and a monk or nun who chant sutras. We don’t burn spirit money, and we hardly even burn any incense.”
While Dharma Drum ceremonies are usually held for members and their families, the foundation hopes that the message will eventually have a wider impact. It also hopes that the efforts to avoid extravagance and to conduct oneself responsibly will spill over into everyday life. “We don’t want just a superficial show of respect and politeness among people,” Ven. Kuo-hsiang says. “We want people to be responsible to their families and neighbors and to be ethical in all the roles they play.”
Education is another area in which Buddhists are now making a mark. Huafan College, set up in 1990, includes programs in management, engineering, and humanities.
While the new approaches of worldly Buddhism have attracted millions of new followers, they have also given rise to some detractors. Some critics feel that monks and nuns are becoming too secular by getting overly involved in social activities, and that the true role of Buddhism can only be found by delving into the sutras and meditating in isolation. Some groups continue to practice along these lines, but the new Buddhists strongly defend their direction. Ven. Kuo-hsiang of Dharma Drum insists that Sakyamuni practiced Buddhism by getting in touch with the public. “The only time he spent interpreting the scriptures,” she says, “was for two or three minutes on the way to the city, where he and his disciples went every day to beg for alms. They didn’t hide themselves away in the forest, but were involved in a lot of social work. My teacher [Dharma Drum founder] Master Sheng-yen, decided to practice Buddhism the Buddha’s way.”
The disciples of other masters voice similar arguments. Ven. Yung-yun of Fokuangshan, for example, defends the organization’s founder against criticisms that his publishing house, television spots, and other ventures are too commercialized. “Some people say, ‘Oh! That monk!’ when they think of Master Hsing-yun,” she says. “That’s because they don’t know him. He wants to reach out in any way he can. That’s why he set up temples inside office buildings in the busiest areas of the city and why he takes advantage of modern tools. He told us never to be afraid of taking new steps to spread Buddhism.”