Chiu Hei-yuan is an emeritus research fellow at the Academia Sinica’s Institute of Sociology who studies the sociology of religion in Taiwan. His research shows that more than half of Taiwanese identify with a religion (including Buddhism, Daoism and folk religions).

In other words, a majority of Taiwanese bai­bai and make offerings at the turn of the year, song­shen (“see the gods off”) on the 24th day of the 12th lunar month, and take the gods on procession on the fourth day of the new year. They also make offerings from the first through the fifth in hopes of receiving divine protection in the coming year.

Celery (diligence), scallion (intelligence), radish (good luck)... the offerings students make to Wen Chang before exams have symbolic significance.

Everybody hopes for promotion, wealth, health and good fortune in the new year. But which god should you pray to for wealth, and which for a peaceful year?

Lin Jin­lang, author of Searching for God! Praying at the Right Temple to the Right God, says that you might think deities would be omnipotent, yet people generally pigeonhole them on the basis of convention, assigning each a particular specialty and set of duties.

As a result, people usually turn to the Jade Emperor, Bao­sheng Dadi, or Mazu for a trouble-free year; Wen ­Chang or ­Zhuyi Shen for success and fame; Bi Gan or Guan Gong and the Five Gods of Wealth for riches; Yue Lao for marriage; and Zhu­sheng Niang­niang for children.

Different jobs are also believed to have their own patron deities, with farmers praying to Shen­nong, fishermen to Mazu, builders to Lu Ban, medical professionals to Hua Tuo, and educators to Confucius.

Lin says that following this sort of reasoning, everyone can find the “right” god based on their work and personality, plus a bit of astrological fortune telling. For example, someone who works in the creative–cultural sector, doesn’t like to be tied down, and was born under a “literary” star, should pray to a deity like ­Wenqu Xing, Wen ­Chang, or Wen­shu.

One of Longshan Temple’s adorable deity figurines.

Taiwan’s immigrant society possesses a large array of deities and religious beliefs brought over from all parts of mainland China, including the likes of the Jade Emperor and Guanyin. But the island has also developed new sects of its own, such as that of Guan Gong.

Taiwan also has a number of unique temples, including one dedicated to Tang-Dynasty poet and essayist Han Yu (Changli Temple in ­Neipu, Ping­tung County) and another dedicated to Song-Dynasty scholar Zhu Xi (Zhuzi Gong Temple in Bei­gang, ­Chiayi County).

Another factor that helps people determine to whom to pray is their stage of life.

Since students preparing for exams pray to Wen ­Chang, temples dedicated to this god have begun to put out transparent acrylic boxes into which students can place copies of their exam admission cards, to remind the god that they are taking the exam. The offerings typically made to Wen ­Chang have their own particular significance, e.g. celery (diligence), water (flowing thoughts), radish (good luck), scallions (intelligence), glutinous rice dumplings (getting into a prestigious school), and garlic (facility with calculations). Usually based on homo­phones, such offerings are intended to boost the students’ testing aptitude and better their luck.

Singles of marriageable age who hope to find a spouse pray to Yue Lao. Offerings include fresh flowers (romantic love), jujubes (finding a partner quickly), candy (sweetness), sandwich cookies (shared feelings), and peaches (romance). Women can also offer lipstick and rouge to represent enhancements to their beauty.

People making requests of Zhu­sheng Niang­niang typically prepare offerings representative of having children, such as watermelon seeds, peanuts, walnuts, jujubes, and longans (the “five sons passing the civil service exams”); noodles and red eggs (birthdays); or fresh flowers (fecundity).

The third month of the lunar calendar, marked by the annual Mazu Procession in Dajia, Taichung, is an important time of the year for the Mazu faithful.

As noted above, bai­bai isn’t just a religious practice; it’s also a vibrant economic activity.

Chung Wen-jung, lecturer in economics at Tung­hai University and a senior industry analyst, explains that religious practices represent a kind of economic behavior: they take place in a market context characterized by supply, demand and competition, and exhibit some measure of utility. He argues that the number of temples in operation corresponds to the state of the economy. With the economy languishing and the “market” saturated, many temples in central and southern Taiwan have become uncompetitive in recent years, forcing them to merge with others or close outright.

On a clear, brisk January 1 2015, a team from Nan­tou’s Zi Nan Temple distributed annual “seed money” aimed at helping adherents find wealth of their own. This year the line stretched a record eight kilometers. The temple had originally planned to hand out 12,000 of the wealth-bringing coins, but ultimately gave away more than 20,000.

The temple also lends out another variety of “get-rich money,” on a larger scale than any other temple in Taiwan. In fact, it loans followers more than NT$30 million on every major holiday. Over the Lunar New Year, people queue up for as many as seven days to “apply.” The temple’s website notes that the temple stays open year round except Lunar New Year’s Eve to ensure it can respond to every petition.

Divination blocks determine the amount. Would-be borrowers get six throws of the crescent-shaped blocks. If one lands flat side up and the other flat side down, the “applicant­” receives the loan. If the first throw is successful, the borrower gets the full NT$600. The amount decreases on each throw of the blocks, and those who have no success after six throws go away empty handed.

Most believers arrange to repay the loan within a year. Those who have turned a profit typically return a multiple of the original amount as a token of gratitude. The temple’s website has long featured the story of the owner of a construction company who repaid NT$660,000 on his NT$600 loan.

People really have made money by borrowing “get-rich money”; it isn’t entirely a myth. ­Chung has personally taken one of the loans, and says that believers who borrow the NT$600 in “seed money” feel like they have divine help in their endeavors. That sensation encourages the kind of risk-taking that can generate big rewards.

­Wenwu Temple near Sun Moon Lake takes a different approach to “divine money” by offering adherents “luck-changing cash.” Believers who donate NT$100 for incense and candles receive what the temple calls “Heavenly Griffin Money,” which is alleged to change their fortunes.

This “divine money” comes in bills of the same size as real money, but has images of Guan Gong on the front and of a pi­xiu, a griffin-like creature said to bring wealth, on the back. Adherents believe that keeping such a bill in their wallet will improve their luck and bring them wealth. Tong ­Wanyi, head of the temple’s planning department, says its “divine money” is very popular, and the temple issues roughly 20,000 bills ­each year. He adds that Wenwu occasionally receives monetary expressions of gratitude from believers overseas, mainly ethnic Chinese residents of Southeast Asia.

Located on the scenic lake shore, ­Wenwu Temple attracts large numbers of tourists. Tong says they used to receive a lot of Singapore dollars and Malaysian ring­git in their donation box, but ren­minbi and Korean won have become more common in recent years.

Filled with prayers, believers hope for special consideration from the gods. The picture shows Donglong Temple in Donggang, Pingtung County.

Changes in society have wrought changes in the faithful. Lin says that Taiwanese society holds diverse views of religion. Religious scholars tend to see it as a folk custom. At the other end of the spectrum are practitioners, many of whom believe it has become too worldly.

“While religious belief remains necessary in the scientific era, there’s no place for superstition in civilized times.” Lin says there is a world of difference between religious belief and superstition. In his view, supplicants and “traders in religion” who engage in an excess of prayer, focus on ritual, and get caught up in mumbo-jumbo are falling into superstitious idolatry. He says that food was much less plentiful in the old days, so the sacrifice of a pig or goat was not only a gesture of respect to the gods, but also an opportunity for worshipers to enjoy a full belly. But we now live in a time of plenty and don’t need to make offerings to pad out our diets. Moreover, burning large volumes of incense and paper money creates air pollution. Thus many temples now request visitors to burn just one stick of incense and no paper money at all, and to substitute fresh flowers and fruit for offerings of animal products.

True Buddhism doesn’t involve burning incense or paper money, or making offerings. But Daoism and Buddhism are frequently indistinguishable in Taiwan. Fortunately, many temples are moving towards simpler offering practices.

On 26 August 2014, Tai­pei’s Hsing Tian Kong Temple, which sees some 6 million worshipers every year, actually removed its censers and offering tables. Visitors now need only steeple their hands and offer their sincere respects to the gods.

Many believers struggle with the change, and feel something is missing. They wonder how you bai­bai without incense, and some still insist on bringing offerings.

Chung says that people feel obligated to bring an offering when they make requests of the gods because offerings function as mediums for the delivery of such appeals. The faithful have a similar view of incense, regarding it as a sort of antenna that broadcasts their requests.

Without spirals of incense smoke carrying their desires to Heaven, how can believers convey their wishes to the gods? Yet Hsing Tian Kong remains popular even without its censers and offering tables.

On a recent winter morning the faithful still filled the temple courtyard on Tai­pei’s Min­quan East Road, their steepled hands, chanted sutras, and kowtows to the gods creating an atmosphere just as peaceful and dignified as ever.

One side effect of the modern era is that matching up marriageable young people has become more difficult. This circumstance has raised Yue Lao’s stock in the religious marketplace, with singles now flocking to temples to make offerings to the god every Double Seventh (Chinese Valentine’s Day) and Valentine’s Day. Major temples have also been “spurring consumption” with frequent marriage-related activities, such as sacrifices and divination-block competitions.

An even bigger change has been the incorporation of modern electronics into the practice of bai­bai. With 3G communications­ now ubiquitous, temples have established websites­, Facebook pages and fan communities to retain their competitive edge. The Facebook page of Sun Moon Lake’s Wenwu Temple currently has between 30 and 40,000 fans.

People can now light temple candles and placate Tai Sui from in front of their computers. Adherents can even light candles and make small donations from abroad.

Beyond the convenience of modern electronics, the production of new creative and cultural products like the very cute “deity figurines,” “Techno Prince Ne­zha” shows, and improved festival performance troupes, has helped to make folk religion more entertaining and the gods more “attractive.”

“Gods evolve, too.” Lin uses Techno Prince Ne­zha’s blending of festival performance and street dancing to illustrate how religions are constantly updating their practices and deepening their roots.

“Deities are projections of the human mind and spirit,” says Lin. “Since most people can’t directly perceive their innermost thoughts and feelings, they get at them through religion.” Lin sees bai­bai as a kind of mental health activity. As Saint Guan’s Classic on Awakening the World puts it: “The mind of the ordinary person is god; god is the mind.”

As the saying goes, “If you baibai, you are protected.” As long as people don’t become too superstitious, they ­really can find strength in religion.

Now that the new year is upon us, are you hoping the God of Wealth will send a little consideration your way? According to “right god” theory, businesspeople should pray to Guan Gong, while nine-to-fivers should direct their prayers to Bi Gan. But Lin suggests that people not neglect gods nearer to home. The Earth God in their neighborhood, for example, is also a god of wealth, and offerings made to the Laughing Buddha are said to bring wealth too.

An inscription on a wall of Cao­tun Township’s ­Dunhe Temple, which is dedicated to the God of Wealth, reads thus: “Virtue brings peace, virtue brings good fortune, virtue brings wealth.”

Let’s all offer a heartfelt prayer that the Year of the Ram brings joy and happiness to all!