By the twelfth day of the lunar New Year the holiday period has already begun winding down, and a good deal of folk have already gone back to business as usual. But an ecstatic holiday ambience nevertheless permeates Zi­nan Temple in Zhu­shan Township, Nan­tou County. An endless caravan of cars and buses packed with pilgrims from across the country descends on the temple, reducing the traffic in the adjacent streets to a hopeless morass.

It turns out that this particular temple is the most renowned of Taiwan’s Earth God banks. Almost all of the visitors today have come expressly to beseech the gods for a loan. In earnest supplication they take up their divination blocks, and if the first cast results in one block landing flat side up and the other round side up, then the petitioner has, in a manner of speaking, hit the jackpot, entitling him or her to the largest loan sum of NT$600. If the same configuration is achieved at the second attempt, the sum awarded is lessened to NT$500 and decreases in NT$100 increments for each further toss needed to produce the winning results.

Those lucky enough to enjoy the favor of the gods can then apply their reward as they see fit; some purchase stocks, others put it in their savings account to earn a little interest, and others may simply pour the money into their business operations.

After a year, irrespective of their fortunes during that time, borrowers return the borrowed amount plus an additional NT$200–300 to properly thank the gods for their favor and guidance. Oftentimes, if an individual has enjoyed exceptional success they may additionally donate as much as NT$10,000 or even NT$100,000. Speaking in terms of interest rates, the temples receive 20–30% at the bottom end to upwards of 100,000% at the top!

In a modern flourish, Zinan Temple records loan transactions on debt slips.

A similar scene is in evidence at Jin­shan Cai­shen Temple, located in the mountainous region at the border between Jin­shan and ­Wanli Districts of New Tai­pei City. Built in 1999, this temple received scant visitors in its first years due its inaccessible location. When it began offering loans from the God of Wealth in 2003, however, its fame quickly spread.

The protocol at Jin­shan varies slightly from Zi­nan in that the petitioners simultaneously cast three pairs of blocks before the Gods of Wealth of the Five Directions, with each winning combination worth NT$100.

These temple banks that bestraddle the spiritual and material realms lay claim to impressive revenue. At the largest operation, Zi­nan Temple, NT$300 million was lent to 550,000 individuals in 2011, and the amount recouped exceeded NT$500 million.

Even Jin­shan Cai­shen Temple, though a relative latecomer to the practice, lent NT$40 million and received NT$60 million in returns.

The “clients” of spirit banks are generous in returning capital; moreover, the fear of “defaulting on the gods” keeps the unreturned loans to an extremely modest 3–5%, a feat much admired of those working at ordinary financial institutions.

Jinshan Caishen Temple lends cash amounts between NT$100 and NT$300 to believers whose divination blocks show the deities’ approval.

According to current estimates, there are dozens of Taiwanese temples engaged in spirit lending. The better known amongst them include Ba­xian Temple at San­zhi in New Tai­pei City, ­Yingfu Song­qiong Temple in Tao­yuan’s ­Daxi Township, Bao­min Temple (which only lends around the 15th day of each Lunar New Year) in Zhu­nan, ­Miaoli County, ­Fude Temple in Tai­chung’s ­Houli District, and ­Wulu Cai­shen Temple in Fang­shan Township, Ping­tung County. The most frequent object of worship and hence the entity that dispenses the loans at these temples is either the God of Wealth or the Earth God, the deity that presides over a particular locality.

The original function of these temples is to provide a medium for communication between man and god; how then did they become enmeshed in so crude an affair as money lending? The answer can be understood vis-à-vis the increased prominence accorded the God of Wealth in recent years.

Associate Professor Lin Mao-hsien of National Tai­chung University’s Department of Taiwanese Languages and Literature is an expert on folk religion. In his analysis, changes in specific religious practices arise as a consequence of larger social transformation. The first Chinese settlers that arrived in Taiwan during the Ming and Qing Dynasties had to brave an arduous sea voyage. Faced with fear of the unknown, these pioneers sought the protection of Mazu, the Water Immortal, and other sea gods.

After settling in Taiwan, the various immigrant clans vied with one another for territorial dominance, each enlisting the aid of their home region’s patron gods in the struggle.

Once the internecine strife had abated and a national consciousness tentatively crystallized, regional gods were put aside in favor of more ecumenical spirits such as Mazu, Guan­yin, the Jade Emperor, and the Saintly Emperor Guan.

From that point on people worshipped those gods whose expertise was most germane to their endeavors and problems. In the predominantly agrarian society of years past, that meant supplicating the King of the Five Grains for beneficent weather or praying or the Heavenly Couple Who Cure Poxes for health during epidemics. But in the wake of recent social transformations, the presence of these gods is gradually fading.

Jinshan Caishen Temple is home to the Gods of Wealth of the Five Directions. In the middle is God of Wealth Zhao Gongming and below is the local Earth God.

The widespread popularity of the God of Wealth goes back to the 1980s. It is a trend that shows no signs of reversing and one that manifests itself in various ways.

Besides traditional mainstays like the Martial God of Wealth and the Civil God of Wealth, a host of new deities have cropped up, such as the Gods of Wealth of the Five, Eight, or even Ten Directions, adding colorful new layers to an already flourishing culture.

Former Chinese Culture University vice president Wu Yung-meng, also an accredited Taoist priest and the chairman of the Taiwan Folk Religion Association, identifies 1976—the year Taiwan achieved its first trade surplus—as the watershed that launched 20 years of rapid economic growth and social metamorphoses. During that period which gave rise to phenomena as distinct as the stock market hitting the 10,000 mark, real-estate speculation and a lottery craze, Taiwanese people’s lives assumed a utilitarian outlook radically different from the relative innocence of the past.

“In a society that values expedience and profit, the god most able to allay people’s anxieties and give them hope is naturally the God of Wealth,” opines Wu.

Writer and cultural worker Shi Yu­zhong, who has contributed a volume on Taiwan’s Wealth God culture, believes that contemporary society is so familiar with the idea of work specialization that it pervades perception of the supernatural. Previous generations were content to appeal to the most universal deities Guanyin, Saintly Emperor Guan, Mazu et al for health, career and marital success, and the birth of sons; the younger worshippers of today, steeped as they are in a culture of specialization, are much more likely to address the god whose capabilities dovetail with their specific concerns.

“Devotees of the Wealth God are typically in that working prime between 25 and 45 years of age, which is in stark contrast to the patrons of other temples, who on the whole seem to be getting older all the time,” he chuckles.

At Zinan Temple, the resident Earth God and his wife wear gold plates that were presented by grateful patrons.

Given people’s constant preoccupation with career success and earning money, it was but one small step from worshipping the God of Wealth to the current practice of borrowing capital directly from him.

Well before establishing the current system, Zi­nan Temple, home to the largest spirit lending operation in Taiwan, had in fact a long history of offering emergency loans of up to NT$6,000 to the community faithful.

Zi­nan Temple committee chairman Zhuang Qiu’an tells the story of one local who 20 years earlier had borrowed money from the temple and headed to Tao­yuan to start a business selling sausages. He did so well in business that the other vendors were clamoring to know the secret of his success, at which point he revealed to them the provenance of his initial business loan.

The following year the market vendors headed south in a bus to borrow money from the Earth God at Zi­nan Temple. When other people experienced similar success, the temple’s fame began to spread. The number of visitors swelled to the point that the temple was compelled to reset the maximum loan amount at NT$600, but that didn’t prevent the stream of cash from constantly widening.

Zinan Temple’s roaring practice may be partially attributable to coincidence, but Wu, Lin, and other folklore scholars believe that spirit lending may have evolved out of an earlier popular tradition known as qi­gui, or turtle cake offerings.

Since in Chinese iconography turtles symbolize luck and longevity, turtle cake offerings are often present at the Lantern Festival or at celebrations of deities’ birthdays. The temple provides turtle-shaped cakes made from either flour or sticky rice that are placed in front of the temple. Worshippers cast divination blocks to be granted the privilege to take them home in the hopes that they will bring peace, health and prosperity. In accepting the cakes, the winners will typically express a wish for the following year; if that wish comes to fruition over the course of the year, they will bring multiple turtle cakes, typically bigger than the one they “borrowed,” back to the temple.

The custom has evolved over time so that turtles constructed of stacked coins or turtles made with gold have replaced the cakes. Turtles eventually gave way to cash loans, and what began essentially as a votive ritual has become more concrete and practical.

The most famous spirit bank, Zinan Temple in Nantou, offers worshippers a huge imitation yuanbao gold ingot made of bamboo plaiting to touch, a gesture symbolizing taking fortune home. In Taiwanese, the pronunciation of the characters “golden chicken” sounds similar to “increase gold.” The golden chicken statue at the temple has been rubbed so often that most of its paint is gone!

Wu explains that Taiwanese society often evinces a herd mentality; the success of a temple is likely to spawn a legion of imitators with the result that the number of spirit banks continues to multiply.

Why then should the most frequent divine creditors be the God of Wealth and the Earth God? In the case of the God of Wealth the logic simply is that, as the bringer of prosperity, his loans will yield the most fruitful dividends. As for the Earth God, the reason stems from the traditional Chinese belief that the land itself is the most precious asset of all, which makes its divine protector a wealth god of sorts.

While some have criticized spirit lending as the encroachment of commercialism on religion, Lin Mao-hsien believes that it is not without cultural merit. Moreover, he believes that since the custom evolved freely and organically and has become widespread, it is likely to endure for some time.

“The An Tai Sui ritual (for protection against demons) and the lighting of Guangming lamps (both of which require a fee to the temple) were similarly criticized as crass temple money-making schemes, but so long as there is a cultural necessity, these things will thrive,” Lin says.

Writer Shi Yu­zhong notes that efforts to launch spirit lending in mainland China all failed spectacularly after just a few months. Decades of communist education have bleached supernatural beliefs from the cultural consciousness, and in the absence of fear of divine retribution, people could borrow money and abscond willy-nilly.

“Borrowers have to show a sense of responsibility for spirit banks to remain solvent!” says Shi.

Spirit lending is a new, uniquely Taiwanese custom that can benefit both the temples and their followers. Yet, as the old proverb runs, “God helps those who help themselves.” It is, in the final analysis, individual initiative and industry that may best assure that divine financing achieves earthly prosperity.

A crowd of worshippers gathered in Zinan Temple’s main hall.

The most famous spirit bank, Zinan Temple in Nantou, offers worshippers a huge imitation yuanbao gold ingot made of bamboo plaiting to touch, a gesture symbolizing taking fortune home. In Taiwanese, the pronunciation of the characters “golden chicken” sounds similar to “increase gold.” The golden chicken statue at the temple has been rubbed so often that most of its paint is gone!

A devout visitor deep in prayer before casting her divination blocks.

Ghost money burning in an environmentally sound furnace.

Worshippers love the ornate “wealth bags” provided by Jinshan Caishen Temple. They contain gifts of coins to bring promotion and prosperity, and paper amulets for protection from harm.