These events, coming in rapid succession, not only have warmed up diplomatic ties between the ROC and the Vatican, they have also sparked wider interest in that venerable institution, the Catholic Church. With Taiwan's society experiencing a religious revival, what is the status of Catholicism here?
1953:
A pregnant Wang Lan-feng sits in the small red-brick church next to her village. She left China with her in-laws and husband to escape the Communist regime in China, arriving in Taiwan after four years in Hong Kong. She was out of danger, but had nothing at all to her name. Her neighbors advised her to come to the church, where she could get powdered milk and oatmeal.
Although she didn't really understand the Mandarin of the Italian priest there, after so much wandering and hardship her heart was warmed by the words written on either side of the altar: "You will find peace and happiness through God," and "All those who carry heavy burdens, come here to me." She decided to be baptized and become a Catholic.
1997:
It is the second day after Chinese New Year. Despite the cold and wet outdoors, nearly 100 Filipino laborers sit in the newly enlarged church.
The Filipino priest, speaking in English, intones: "Don't forget, the reason you have come to a strange land and accepted the burden of hard labor is for your families. We come together in God to support each other and share friendship in order to overcome loneliness and hardship." Using English and Tagalog, they sing hymns with an enthusiasm and fervor that fills the church.
Powdered milkism
One core Catholic belief is that "man is made in the image of God, and is loved by God, and so people must love each other unconditionally." Based on such ideas, in the spirit of social justice and fairness, the Catholic Church-with its traditional character of helping the poor and disadvantaged-has had an undeniable impact over the past several decades of social development in Taiwan.
In terms of missionary work in Taiwan, the Catholic Church was ahead of all other non-native religions. As early as 1626, in the waning years of the Ming dynasty, Spanish clergy arrived in Tanshui and Keelung. However, by the end of the Japanese occupation, there were only 12 clergy and nuns and 8000 believers. The growth of the Catholic Church in Taiwan thus really began only 50 years ago.
Rt. Rev. Monsignor Thomas Pai of the Hsinchu diocese, which is especially noteworthy for its social work, points out that the occupation of mainland China by the Communists was an important stimulus to the Catholic Church in Taiwan. Believing that religion is "the opiate of the masses," the Communists widely suppressed religious activity; and as they were very nationalistic, religions of foreign origin were especially targeted. Priests and nuns were expelled, others imprisoned. In 1951, relations between the PRC and Vatican were formally ended. In this period, many clergy came over to Taiwan. With them came many Catholics, especially from Beijing and Shandong.
In Taiwan, morale among the refugees was low, with people feeling the pain of leaving their homes under the shadow of war. At that time, Taiwan, in the wake of the end of Japanese colonialism, was also badly scarred and materially bereft. The Catholic Church was there to provide a great deal of assistance. "Taking the Hsinchu diocese for example, most of the churches are built in areas heavily populated by mainlanders," notes Monsignor Pai.
Lin Lan-fen, a 33-year-old woman, remembers this period well. Because her grandparents were Catholic, she was baptized at birth, and went to church with them every Sunday when she was a child; she also studied in the church's kindergarten. She remembers how she would go to the church with her grandmother and Mom and get relief supplies such as butter, flour, and second-hand clothes, and it was free for her and her siblings to go to the kindergarten. This material support was of no small help to her family. It was for this reason that many people at that time called Catholicism "powdered milkism" or "flourism."
Also, in the early years after WWII Taiwan had few economic resources, and there were many educational, social, and medical tasks the government was unable to attend to. The Catholic Church, backed by the Vatican and overseas donations, stepped in to help. Also, because of its global organization, the Church had experience in other nations as well numerous personnel-selfless priests and nuns-who dedicated their lives, thus allowing the Church to often move faster than others in terms of social work.
In terms of proselytizing, the Catholic Church appealed to people by displaying a spirit of accommodation with local traditional culture and by integrating itself into local communities.
Christianity strictly forbids the worship of "idols." Yet in Taiwan the Catholic Church did not oppose traditional Chinese ancestor worship. And Catholicism often took on local forms: For example, expressions of reverence for the Virgin Mary followed patterns established for the Matsu, a major local deity. Thus, for example, a statue of Mary might be carried from village to village in a palanquin on an "inspection tour"-a Chinese folk tradition.
Explosive growth
Under the unusual circumstances that prevailed in the early years after the government moved to Taiwan, the Catholic Church experienced explosive growth. About 20 years ago, with Taiwan's population about three-fourths of what it is today, "the number of dioceses was raised to seven, and there were already more than 300,000 Catholics in Taiwan, with 700 churches, 400 schools of all levels, and nearly 200 hospitals and clinics, from the cities to the remote areas of the mountains to the seashore," Chen Chih-mai, former ambassador of the ROC to the Vatican, wrote in A Brief History of Catholicism in China.
At that time, the religious spirit of many priests and nuns made a deep impression on people. Ou Chin-te, chairman of the Public Construction Commission of the Legislative Yuan (the top authority in Taiwan for public works), recalls that he was "completely changed" by the "spirit of unconditional love" he found in Catholicism.
As a child Ou was rebellious-a problem child. He did not have a smooth time in school, and, though making a frantic last-minute effort at the time of the college entrance exams, only tested into the evening college at National Chengkung University, far less than he had aspired to. He was so disappointed he didn't want to go to school, and spent all day hanging around and shooting pool. But in fact he knew he was on a dead-end street.
Then, he ran into the campus priest, who invited him to an activity. Under the priest's guidance and concern, Ou experienced something that he had never felt before: care that "would never let me down." It caused him to treat himself better and study hard. Today, long after leaving school, he remains a deeply sincere Catholic, insistently spreading the spirit of God's love. "In the past I experienced love from someone else. Only because of that am I the way I am today, able to love others, society, and this land of ours."
Chiang Chi-wen, who is both a member of the National Assembly and director of the Bureau of Social Affairs for the Kaohsiung City Government, is also a devout Catholic. She says that the spirit of religion inspires her to help others, for example in promoting the extension of universal health insurance to cover the terminally ill. "The emphasis on humility in Catholicism also constantly reminds me, in the course of my official responsibilities, that I am merely a servant of the people," she states. Last year she was awarded an honorary title of nobility by the Vatican; it was an affirmation of her contribution to mankind and society. The Vatican only began to give such an award to women in 1995, which was the United Nations International Year of the Woman. It goes only to women who have made important contributions to mankind; less than ten women in the world have been thus recognized.
Sunset religion?
Despite the growth of religion in Taiwan at the end of this century, it seems like the Catholic Church is not growing along with it. Compared to the halcyon days of the 1960s, in the latest statistics on religion, the number of Catholics in Taiwan has fallen to about 300,000.
Lin Lan-fen, who can be considered a second-generation Taiwan Catholic, has personally experienced this over time. In middle school, because of the weight of schoolwork and also youthful independence, she reduced her participation in church activities. Afterwards she left home to go to university and get a job, becoming even more distant from the Church, only going to Mass on Christmas and a few other holy days. Year after year, she saw the number of believers in her age group dwindle. "It seems like Mass just became a gathering of the old and middle- aged. It was very rare to see a whole family there like in the old days," she sighs.
With believers aging and declining in number, and lacking in fresh blood, membership in the Catholic Church now lags behind that of other popular religions in Taiwan. It is not only far behind Buddhism and Taoism, with their millions of faithful, but even has fewer followers than other Christian denominations; the total number of Protestants exceeds 400,000.
"After Taiwan grew wealthy, reducing the need for outside help, this naturally reduced the appeal of Catholicism," says Monsignor Pai. For example, in terms of social work, currently the government, civic groups, and the faster growing religions of Buddhism and Taoism are devoting a large amount of resources to social problems. In contrast, the scale of Catholic activities is comparatively smaller.
What's even harder to deal with is that "today 'Taiwanese consciousness' is on the rise, but most early clergy were foreigners, not local Taiwanese, and the church seemed 'foreign.' Some have even interpreted our work as being on behalf of imperialism," says Rev. John Baptist Wu, secretary- general of the Chinese Catholic Bishops' Conference. This has been a blow to the church's image. Thus, despite the current upsurge of religion, the Catholic Church has not been part of the rising tide.
To say that the Catholic Church is not "localized" is unjustified, avers Wu. He notes that in the early days some missionaries went deep into the mountains to proselytize among Taiwan's aboriginal peoples. They studied and recorded aboriginal languages, and even translated the Bible into those tongues, making an important contribution to preserving aboriginal culture.
A different era
Wang Hsing-ching (pen name: Nanfang Shuo), senior writer for The Journalist and an insightful observer of Taiwan's political and social scene, suggests that there is only limited room for development of Catholicism in Taiwan. This is due to the fact that the Church in Taiwan has long appealed only to certain social strata, and also because of its social conservatism.
Early on the church focused on serving the disadvantaged groups in the lower to middle strata of society. As the standard of living has risen, the attraction of Catholicism has been diluted, causing many believers to drift away. "In comparison, most Protestant denominations have appealed to people's spiritual needs, and have penetrated the middle and upper classes. High-ranking government officials, from Chiang Kai-shek to Lee Teng-hui, have been Protestants," Wang notes. There has been something of a "demonstration effect," affecting the choices of the public.
Furthermore, as society has become liberalized and value systems have changed, young people are more skeptical of the Church's traditional doctrines. "This is especially the case with regard to lifestyle. The Church opposes divorce, abortion, birth control, and homosexuality, often giving people the impression that the Church is out of step with the times. Also, people are alienated by the solemn and stuffy ritual," avers Wang.
"In fact, though there are not so many members of the Catholic Church, our work continues just as before. It is just that as society's needs have changed, the nature and form of the work has also been transformed," says Paul Shan.
For example, when modern medicine was a scarce commodity, the church brought medical care to many remote villages and mountain areas. "Now that the health care system is well developed, we have changed our orientation and discovered that there are many mentally challenged children, old people and distressed women who need care and assistance, so we have opened many old people's homes, shelters, and so on for these groups," Bishop Shan explains.
Take for example the "Good Shepherd Center," a refuge for child prostitutes, or the "House of Peace," which has long taken in homeless people in Taipei City. Both are very well-known examples. Two years ago, the Hsinchu Catholic Social Service Center converted an unused church in Paoshan Rural Township into the "Blue Sky Home" for young people showing behavioral problems. Currently, the Hsinchu diocese is planning to build a facility to care for elderly victims of Alzheimer's disease. These are services that other social service agencies are not able to provide.
Help was needed in the time of chaos and war. Now, the gap between rich and poor is widening daily, and social problems are increasingly complex. There are many disadvantaged groups that need care, and the Church, with its insistence on social equity, is not failing to take on new responsibilities.
Another example is working with aboriginal peoples. In a corrugated steel shack on a construction site, an American priest is saying Mass for some aboriginal faithful. There are 30 or 40 people there, some in middle age, but also with young men in their teens and 20s, as well as women with babies. Children are running around everywhere.
Urban nomads
The priest plays a guitar, as he and the faithful sing aboriginal love songs one after another, occasionally dropping in a popular Mandarin or Taiwanese melody. After half an hour or so, the music stops and everyone becomes quiet. The priest brings out a large box to use as a makeshift altar, lights some candles, and starts the Mass. The ceremony is simple and solemn. When the priest says, "Would everyone please turn to their neighbor and wish each other peace and happiness," the people there embrace each other or shake hands. The atmosphere is one of tranquil and natural warmth.
"To make a living, many aborigines, alone or with their families, leave their home villages and become urban nomads," says the priest. When all the young people had left, this priest was left without a congregation back in the mountains. "They cannot go home to go to Mass, so I came here with them. I hope that through the integrative power of religion they can stay in touch with one another so that they can have some warmth and peace in the urban jungle."
In recent years the Church has devoted particular efforts to care and service to the overseas workers' community in Taiwan. This is especially the case because the majority of these workers are from the Philippines, where the Church is deeply rooted.
"Beginning in the 1970s, a few illegal workers from Southeast Asia began to come to Taiwan to live and work. Most of these came from the Philippines, which is a mainly Catholic country. Filipinos are very devout, so they took the initiative to find a local church to attend Mass," says Sister Bernadette M. Chen, director of the Migrant Workers' Concern Desk of the Bishops' Commission for Social Development.
Far away from home, often leaving spouses and children behind, foreign workers not only need religion to ease their homesickness and find peace of mind, they also had many practical problems. These include residency questions, unreasonable pay, disputes with employers, on-the-job injuries, abuse by employers, and so on. The priests and nuns of the Catholic Church could not, of course, just stand by and do nothing. Thus, in 1989 the Concern Desk was established to file appeals on workers' behalf.
In 1989, the government made it legal for foreign workers to come to Taiwan. The number of Filipinos in Taiwan rose dramatically, and there are now more than 100,000. Because of the large number, and the fact that they are scattered all across Taiwan, they have given many inactive parishes new life, and a number of dioceses have begun holding special masses in English for them.
"They bring a new atmosphere, becoming the core force for Catholicism in Taiwan," suggests Monsignor Thomas Pai. Filipinos tend to be more open and outgoing than Chinese, and use music more frequently, and they actively participate in Mass and other activities, creating a lively and upbeat atmosphere, very different from the traditional somberness of Taiwan's churches.
Vanguard of the social revolution
"In fact, Catholicism is very responsive to the needs of society. Under its conservative exterior, we are in fact doing vanguard work," says Sister Chen, who, with her sweater, long pants, and short haircut looks much like a middle school student.
She herself is an example. With an MA in social work and special study of socio- economic development, she belongs to the "Sisters of Social Service." This group was founded by Hungary's first woman legislator, and is a progressive and activist group and often in the forefront in addressing social issues. Her academic background allows her, when working with foreign laborers, to refer to the experience of other nations. She can see problems before others, and actively seek changes in the laws.
Wang Hsing-ching adds that the Catholic Church has developed very differently in different countries. In some nations, elements in the church are extremely activist, and full of vitality. "Because local churches have a great deal of autonomy, they can match social work to local needs."
In another Asian country, Korea, the Church is very closely connected to local social movements. Recently a church in downtown Seoul gained international attention when it gave refuge to leaders of a labor march who took refuge there after a clash with police. (They were protesting the passage of a new labor law by the ruling party when no opposition deputies were present.) This involvement in local society has helped the Korean Catholic Church grow rapidly, from a few hundred thousand believers to currently nearly 4 million.
Then what about Taiwan? Ou Chi-fu, an author from Yenliao on the coast in Hualien famous for promoting the simple life, contends: "Catholicism can extol an environmentally friendly lifestyle of self-cultivation that brings together heaven and earth."
Bringing together man and heaven
Born and raised in Macao, Ou attended a Catholic middle school, where he was moved to convert. Later he studied in Europe, coming into contact with different forms of Catholicism. "For example, I discovered the Focolare Movement, founded fifty years ago by an Italian woman, Chiara Lubich. Besides spreading Catholic doctrine and beliefs, she also emphasized experimental lifestyles. She organized associations or cooperative societies in which people lived a simple life in close communion with nature. Today they still have communities and farms in West Africa and in Latin America." Ou's "Yenliao Pure Land" is based on their model. Every day he leads people who have come to experience the simple life in reading the Bible, singing psalms, and prayer.
Ou Chi-fu says that it is not only in Taiwan, but everywhere that there are doubts about Catholic doctrine and values. Pope John Paul II has maintained a firmly traditional doctrine, but at the same time has also promoted the new gospel, using modern interpretations, to spread Church beliefs.
For example, the 1990 papal message for the World Day of Peace focused on environmental protection. It called on Christians, appealing to their belief in the Creator of all things, to take special responsibility for nature and for loving and protecting all His creations.
In 1994, the Pope accepted a written interview from the Italian author Vittorio Messori. The contents included virtually all areas in which Catholic beliefs are being challenged. The book became a best-seller as soon as it was released, despite not being a typical commercially oriented book.
An old shop, a new image?
Ho Chien-min, a thirty-year-old in direct sales who grew up in a Catholic family, says that he felt less and less able to identify with Catholicism as he grew older. He hadn't been to church in more than 10 years, until a few years ago, when he heard the album of Catholic Gregorian chants, and was deeply moved. "It transcends the busy mundane world, raising the listener to a higher plane and drawing people to search for their spiritual source." This feeling caused him to go back to church.
Gregorian chants were first codified and made part of the Catholic liturgy 1500 years ago. Recently a recording of chants became a top-seller worldwide, Taiwan included. Among those who enjoyed the music, are there more "lost sheep" like Ho Chien- min who may very well find their way home?
p.91
The Catholic Church has made no small contribution to Taiwan's modern social development through its help for the poor and disadvantaged. In the 1950s and 60s, this "powdered milkism" left a heart-warming feeling with many people. (photo courtesy of the Taipei Archbishop's Curia)
p.92
Clergy often adapt to local ways. In Mass, a priest may very well abandon black vestments for aboriginal garb. (photo by Pu Hua-chih)
p.93
Catholicism is in the vanguard of social work in Taiwan. The House of Peace is one of the very few homeless shelters in Taiwan.
p.94
With a dramatic increase in the number of foreign laborers from the Philippines, a mainly Catholic country, the Church not only offers them solace, but also helps resolve problems like disputes with employers.
p.95
With a dwindling number of older folk and a dearth of young blood, the Catholic Church in Taiwan appears to be losing vitality.
p.96
Facing changing times and social transformation, how should Catholicism adjust in order to keep up with the pulse of society?
Catholicism is in the vanguard of social work in Taiwan. The House of Peace is one of the very few homeless shelters in Taiwan.
With a dramatic increase in the number of foreign laborers from the Phil ippines, a mainly Catholic country, the Church not only offers them solace, but also helps resolve problems like disputes with employers.
With a dwindling number of older folk and a dearth of young blood, the Catholic Church in Taiwan appears to be losing vitality.
Facing changing times and social transformation, how should Catholicism adjust in order to keep up with the pulse of society?