Three hundred years ago, when Taipei's first settlers were trading with head-hunting aborigines and building simple houses on sticks above the wide flats of the Tamsui River, they little knew they were founding a metropolis of nearly two million people. As their numbers were swollen by new immigrants from the mainland, they decided to erect a temple as the focal point of their small town. This was to be dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy, so they ordered ash to be carried from the deity's chief temple at Lungshan in Fukien , whence many of the settlers had come. The name Lungshan means "dragon mountain." On the roof of the present temple, which replaced a building destroyed during World War II, many fine colored dragons are to be seen.
The original Lungshan temple was completed in 1735. It was made of wooden posts, beams and rafters with white plastered brickwork infilling. The roof was of curved tiles, just as it is today. The paving of granite has survived to this day. Building materials for the first temple came to as ballast in the ships of traders. Raw materials and large quantities of rice were shipped to the mainland at that time in return for finished products, including the simple manufactures of everyday life. Skilled carpenters and stone-masons came from Amoy, the main port on the coast. Lungshan was spread over a sizable area because it also included the offices of the local justice, the administration and the trade guild of merchants.
Now as 200 years ago, the area around the temple is clustered with shops and eating stalls. Leasing out of land to shopkeepers long has provided a major source of the temple's income.
Outer walls of the present compound reflect the need to provide some tranquillity for the temple in the face of the bustling mechanized life all around. When the temple first came into existence, shops crowded up to the very doors. But in that time life was centered on the harbor, which is long since .filled in, rather than the roads.
Once inside the main gates, the ornate entrance pavilion is dominant. This was the 15th day of the 2nd month by the lunar calendar. The great red-painted wooden doors had been opened and the crowd flowed through to greet the peaceful golden image of the Goddess of Mercy on her birthday. From early morning until late in the night, people streamed in to offer incense and paper money, both of which can be bought at the temple. From home they brought fruit, wheat noodles, cakes and even cooking oil to be left on the long table while they made their devotions. By the time of leaving, their offerings of food had served the intended purpose and could be taken back to hungry families.
Architectural emphasis of the entrance pavilion is on a roof which sweeps upward in a subtle curve to a deep ridge which is also curved. The roof, which has a long sharp spike at each end, finally leaps off into the blue sky. Of multitudinous red, blue, yellow and white titles, the roof is open to the sky in some places. Facing each other, two blue dragons balance atop the bridge, mouths agape, as if in midflight. Where the tiles sweep downward, a whole cluster of fierce dragons is stationed to protect the temple from any demons which might be lurking about.
Roofs are the most important element of Chinese classical temple and palace architecture. They carry the eye away from the day-to-day cares of the world and up to the reasuring infinity of Heaven. Delicate curves seem to come from the master craftsman's heart rather than from any instruction book or deliberate measurement. These are the shapes of ancient tents, convex and unlike the Western concave shapes of dome, flying buttresses and Greek pediment.
At Lungshan, carving is the work of experts who are selected in contests held annually. Even for repairs, only winners of the islandwide competition are considered eligible. The intricate gilded carving of beams, coffered ceilings and ornate brackets carrying out the overhanging roofs are in contrast to the plain roof tiles above.
The entrance pavilion is part of a group of single-story structures forming a rectangle. In the center is the shrine of the Goddess of Mercy. Panels of stone carving on the walls facing the entrance court are worthy of attention. Not only do they tell Buddhist stories; they also are masterpieces of the stonemason's art. Like the ornate dragon columns, they are cut from solid stone, usually by only one man, who spends months at the task. There are two types of carved columns: the complex undercut and the bolder ones where the dragon is only a little more than half rounded but colored.
At the center of the entrance pavilion is a huge altar table at which several people are always to be seen praying to the Goddess of Mercy. On her birthday the table was loaded with food and enormous vases of flowers. Baskets of floral offerings even were wired to the columns. A plaster model of a pig had been placed on the altar by one woman as an indication of her sincerity. In other temples, pig competitions are frequent for valuable prizes. Here, the pig figurine wore a small envelope of red silk around its neck. This would be used to hold a pinch of the sacred temple ash. Sometimes a bit of ash is taken with water for its curative properties. Even at noon, there is a dim richness in the great ceiling of profusely carved woodwork; this is echoed by the tiers of deep red candles burning with flickering flames on the altars far below.
Other worshippers were practicing the ancient magic arts of throwing crescent shaped pieces of red-lacquered wood. The pieces come in pairs with outer sides curved so as to fit into the palm when they are brought together in player. If one falls flat side up and the other with rounded side uppermost, that is an augury for favorable answer to one's prayer. But this must be confirmed with another throw of the sticks. If the same sides come up, the prognostication is unfavorable. Three negatives suggest it is better to give up and try some other time.
Delicate curves and ornate ornamentation of Lungshan Temple roof display the mastery of Chinese artisans (File photo)
Odors were plentiful. Incense of different perfumes was being burned in six bronze candelabra and two clay pots. Sound was muted. The murmur of prayers could be heard along with the click of wooden prayer crescents as they struck the granite floor. At intervals, the voice of priest came over the public address system, chanting the scriptures as he beat time with a wooden gong and rang a handbell.
The main shrine is raised several feet above the courtyard and approached by several flights of steps. These are for mortals. In the center is a sloping ramp guarded by a dragon. This is a spirit staircase, an architectural gesture to the metaphysical which has no precise counterpart in the West.
Main columns are carved into dragon shapes which twist with great vigor around the tough unpolished granite. The 15-foot carved columns come from single pieces of stone. Wood carving under the eaves is equal to that of the entrance pavilion. Painstaking ornamentation surrounds the central image of the Goddess of Mercy, which must be looked at for a long time to appreciate its delicacy. Altars are of ascending height. Here the public may enter only if they donated NT$ return for a ticket. The floor of black and white marble in checkerboard pattern contributes to the quiet dignity of the place.
The double roof of the main shrine gives the "floating feeling" so typical of Chinese temple design. Like the entrance pavilion, it is protected at the ridge and on the four points of the compass by benevolent dragons. Balance and symmetry occur; this is a basic rule of Chinese architecture and is to be seen in the octagonal pagodas standing at each side of the main court. A three-tiered roof surmounts the second-floor pavilion. There are dragons at each corner.
Three interconnected shrines form the back and north end of the temple precincts. These were built mainly about 1890 and are of simple design. Orange and white painted wooden railings set the public apart from the images of Taoist gods. The steel arched structure which provides shelter in front of this shrine may seem incongruous, yet the purpose is the shelter of worshippers. Outside the temple to the west can be seen a lovely old piece of Chinese brick tile work and a bronze dragon forever squirting water skyward from his pool, much to the delight of small children.
These are some of the deities to be found at Lungshan:
Kuan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy. By some, she is thought to be a disciple of Buddha, by others to be his incarnation. In any case, she can assume 38 different forms, all coalescing into one being. It is not surprising that she has as many names as there are weeks of the year.
One small difficulty is that in original Buddhist doctrine, Kuan Yin was the God of Mercy. T'ang dynasty figures show a male deity. Yet on she is a strong feminine character and the focal point of 441 temples. This anomaly is explained by the fact that during the Ch'ing dynasty the people of preferred to worship Miao-shan, a character from the novel "Kuan Yin Receives the Way." This is the god Kuan Yin reborn on earth as the third daughter of Miao Chuang-wang in order to save man from sin. Her sisters married men of wealth and position. She wanted only to chant the sutras and became a nun in the temple of the White Peacock. Enraged at her unworldliness, her father had her killed. After wandering through hades, her soul returned to earth and she lived again in a quiet retreat (Tahsiangshan) where she cultivated herself and reached ethical perfection. Finally, she returned to hell in order to redeem her father's soul from further torment.
Kuan Yin is thought of as a merciful bodhisattva who saves men from pain and adversity. Many are believed to reach Nirvana with her assistance.
Kuan Kun or Kuan Yu, the God of War. At the rear of the temple are three shrines dedicated to Taoist gods and goddesses. That at the left serves the God of War, who is really the God of Loyalty. It is not war itself which is worshipped. He is a deified hero from the third century who was put to death for being faithful to his oath. A thousand years later he had been made a "faithful and loyal duke" and the Emperor Wan Li finally named him a "Great Ti" or god. His feast days are the 8th day of the 1st lunar month and the 24th day of the 4th month. Kuan Kun is often found in Buddhist temples. There are two guardian gods on either side of the main image.
Wang Yeh, God of Officials, Healing and Joy. He stands to the right of the God of War. In Tang times, five scholars went to to take the civil service examinations. All failed and took to begging. Later, at Chang An, they sang and danced together in tea houses as a musical troupe. When Emperor Tang Tai-chung summoned them for an interview, they were full of hope. They arrived at the moment the Emperor was testing the powers of Chang T'iensu, a famous Taoist magician. Chang asked them to play their instruments in the basement. As they sat making music, there was a tremendous flash of fire and all five were vaporized. Deeply moved by an accident caused by too much occult power, the Emperor ordered them deified.
Subsequently, Emperor T'ai-chung had their tablets placed aboard a small vessel and ordered that shrines should be built wherever the boat landed.
After a while, the story spread that the boat carried plague, and the god (who represented the five scholars) acquired a bad reputation. The Taoists corrected the mistake.
Righteous dragons stand guard over Heaven and earth (File photo)
Also on the left side of the shrine, in a place of lesser honor, is the God of Messengers. Seen here, too, is a sedan chair in which the gods are carried out of the temple on festival days or to bless the family altars of those who think their prayers have been answered and want to give special thanks.
Goddess of Fertility and Childbirth. The goddess and her attendants are found at the left side of the wide central shrine. Ten nurses and many children are enshrined in a glass case. Three senior nurses also arc to be seen. The Goddess of Fertility and her two companions, who provide childcare, are the central figures. Women pray for children and for easy childbirth, then return to give thanks when the child is 100 days old.
, Goddess of the Sea, and her attendants. On the 23rd of March in a year of the 10th century, a red light was seen descending on Mei Chou, an island off the coast of . The light entered the bedroom of a local official. In due course, a girl was born. She never cried and was nicknamed "silent lady," although her given name was (pine tree).
As a young girl, she showed filial piety, strong Buddhist faith and a dislike for children's play. When "he was 16 years old, a fairy ascended from the family well. Everyone else ran away. stayed and knelt before the fairy. Convinced of the child's sincerity, the fairy gave her a charm that would cure illness, then disappeared.
Some years later, was working at the loom on a drowsy midsummer afternoon. Her mother saw the girl doze and called out. woke with a start and told of her dream.
She was aboard ship with her father and two brothers when a fearful storm arose. The junk overturned and all were thrown into the raging sea. She found herself possessed of great strength and took each brother by a hand and gripped her father's clothing with her teeth. Just then she heard her mother call "!" and opened her mouth to reply. Her father sank to, the bottom of the sea as, horror struck, she awakened.
Her mother consoled her, saying it was only a dream. But a few hours later men came to tell of how the junk had been capsized in a storm. 's brothers had been saved but her father had slipped from the grasp of rescuers. swore that she would never marry and would spend her life taking care of her mother and doing good works. She was stricken by a mysterious illness at the age of 28 and died.
's spirit often appeared at sea thereafter. Sailors told how in a storm they had seen the red fire of at the masthead. Those who saw this augury knew they had nothing to fear. Travelers crossing the rough waters of the Taiwan Straits carried images of to protect them from storm and drowning. At the least, they took a pinch of ash wrapped in red paper from their local temple. Some who landed safely after ordeals at sea built temples to 's memory. The number of such shrines attests to the frequency of typhoons and to the high seas between and the mainland.
The first temple to Matsu was built in the Penghu () in 1573. "Matsu Kung" ( temple) later was corrupted into Makung, the chief city and county seat of the low-lying "fishermen's islands." was deified at the end of the Sung dynasty as the Holy Mother of Heaven, and was also officially known as the Heavenly Wife or Heavenly Concubine. Worship of Matsu is especially strong in the Penghu and . On her birthday, the smaller statues are paraded in a pai-pai celebration.
In front of the shrine at Lungshan are two other deities. That at the left is Sun Fong-ah, a red figure dressed in silver. He can hear what happens a thousand li away and points to his ear to prove it On the right is Ch'ien Li-yen, a figure in blue pointing to the eye with which he can see for a thousand li. Also shown with is Yu Wang, the God of the Sea. He originated on the mainland in the Three Kingdoms time of Wu, but on he is of lesser consequence than the merciful .
Ch'en Huang, God of Moats and City Walls. He was once an important deity, because Chinese cities, including those of , depended on walls and moats to protect them from warlords, bandits and barbarians. Deification took place in the Three Kingdoms period early in the Christian era. were built to him in T'ang times. When officials took up posts in a distant city, they paid a visit to his shrine before waiting on the city governor. Now he is considered a god representing the whole city.
T'uti-kung, God of Prosperity. He stands against the right wall of the central section. Legend holds that he was a steward for a high official of the Chou dynasty. Lengthy official journeys often kept his master from home for months on end. Sometimes the steward had to accompany his master's daughter on trips to see her father. One wintry day they were traveling across a windswept plain and lost their way. So that the daughter would be warm, the steward gave her his cloak. She slept warmly but he froze to death. The official had a temple built in the steward's honor and deification came subsequently under the imperial given name of Hou T'iou.
Another story links this deity with the famous beauty Mien Chiang-nu, who watched over her mother-in-law's grave for so long. Through this connection he also became the deity for cemeteries.
But it is as God of Prosperity that most worship comes to T'uti-kung. Every village and business center has a shrine to an immortal who looks out for a fair profit. His birthday is the 2nd day of 2nd lunar month. However, businessmen may say their prayers on the 2nd and 16th of each month in the hope of a little extra prosperity.
Kuan Ti-yeh and His Son and Assistant. In the right-hand section of Lungshan are three fierce generals who, strangely, are better known for benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom and sincerity than soldiery. It was Confucius who made Kuan Ti-yeh one of the five gods of literature. The god was born in province. As a young man, he helped Emperor establish the Hsi Shu dynasty. Captured by Ts'ao Ts'ao during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, he refused to turn his coat or give information. While a captive, he kept careful count of the money given him by his captor so he could pay back every cent. Businessmen give him respect as the father of accounting. He was killed in battle at the age of 68.
In succeeding years, this deity has been worshipped for loyalty and bravery. Students pray to him before they take their exams and give thanks after ward (if they pass). Scholars aspire to his virtues. On the left of the red-faced general is his aide, Chou Chang, armed with a wicked-looking knife. On the right is the handsome scholarly son Kuang Ping. To the left and at a lower level than the deity is the magic horse Ma, which carried back the Buddhist scriptures from the .
Lungshan is no longer the center of . The city has grown away from the river and spread to north, east and south. The downtown is near, but not too near. The venturesome visitor will find the old nearby, though, with small eating places and stalls. Each place may concentrate on one dish, but something else can be ordered from left and right, or perhaps across the lane. The whole cost of a satisfying, tasty meal (with hot cooking that would destroy the most persistent microbe) will not exceed half an American dollar. After that, the explorer may find other small temples in the area, smell the strange odors of herb shops and walk past old, old houses reached by narrow lanes.
Who believes in the gods these days? Around Lungshan, it may be surprising that the young seem to, along with the old. Maybe it's because of the eclecticism - or the ecumenicalism, if that is preferred - of Buddhism, Taoism, minor Oriental religions and the all-prevalent philosophy of Confucius, who held that man would do better to take care of himself and let the gods tend to their own knitting. Asian gods are not exclusive and usually not competitive. They stand together within the temple walls and the worshipper appeals to the one best able to help with his specific problem. In a scientific world, is this superstition or sound mental therapy? A visit to Lungshan's gods needs to be capped with observation of those leaving the temple. Do they seem quieter, more at peace with themselves and their fellows? On any day, the faces seem happy. On the occasion of a festival such as the birthday of , this may be multiplied into an adoration which contemplates a world but dimly understood.
Lungshan can be viewed on many levels. Whether the viewer has architectural, historical, religious or purely touristic motivations, a visit to the temple is worthwhile for any visitor to . For residents, the experience may not be so far different from that which has kept St. Peter's going all these years.