gods

A few weeks ago a god parade rolled through our town. I've heard that Taiwanese god parades are typically done during the day time to bring blessings to citizens in the light of day, but because Puxin is a small cluster of villages on the outskirts of a larger town, we got the leftover blessings as the procession came through through town after the sun had set. No matter. I'm sure the parade was just as festive as it would have been in the light. The fireworks crackled and glowed in the growing dark as people clamoured out of their homes to catch a glimpse of the passing spectacle. And as the gods passed, along with a marching convoy of exhausted highschoolers drumming away and the bored go-go dancer girls seated atop flashy trucks thumping out dance beats, people lined the streets to take pictures of their gods and invite blessings into their homes and shops.

In our brief time here, through conversations with locals and discussions with missionaries, we've had a chance to observe and piece together a sparse understanding of the unique religious climate that is Taiwan. In this polytheistic nation, where all gods are openly accepted- especially if they bestow blessings- three main religions reign: Taoism, Buddhism, Traditional Folk Religion. 

We've found during our conversations with people that there is little distinction between these religions in the actual workings of people's lives. As long as people perceive their gods to work, they will worship. It matters not what set of ideologies are proposed by a religion. So long as a business is saved, a child gets a good grade, or a felt-need met, a god is deemed worthy of worship. The interesting thing we've noticed is that religion is not about ideologies but simply about getting about something. Most Taiwanese we've talked with adhere to a mix of all three of these religions and don't think twice before crossing religious lines in their daily lives. So long as their lives are blessed.

As the parade passed by, I noticed a different god pass by every ten minutes. There is a different god for different aspects of life and creation: gods of wealth, gods of the harvest, goddesses of the water, the list could go on and on. Each diety can bestow or withhold blessings and favor can be beseeched if one would go to the temple to "bai bai" their god. 

That evening, as the gods bounced on by in their bamboo stilted stands atop the shoulders of frenetic young men; as neighbours entreated the favor of the listless statue with flashy LED lights powered by a trailing generator, I thought to myself, "This is so heartbreaking. Why are so many people revering something that can't stand on it's own two feet or stay lit with its own power?"

The humbling thing is that as I scoffed at these passing idols and the people who were bowing to them, I started to realize that invisible gods reign in our Western world so much as the visible ones do here in Taiwan. They fight on the battlefield of my heart and compete for a place on the throne of my life. So blind often are we to these insidious gods, yet we exalt them and sacrifice so much of our time and attention to appeasing them. 

In our culture, we esteem good things like education because a good education leads to solid job prospects and steady future income. There's nothing inherently wrong with desiring to do well to earn a living. But we've all seen when work and wealth becomes an obsession that overtakes our healthy passions and relationships. It becomes a god that we serve and bow our lives to. It sits enthroned as the most important thing we must revere at all costs.

the more visible gods

For me, those gods are frivolous things like social media: a desire for the "Instagram life" and the need to project my life as one to be desire. I spend so much energy chasing the values that this culture deems as beautiful. But what for? It has become my god, the idol I exchange my devotion to for a few pithy "likes" and scraps of social approval. For me, these gods are security which in itself is not a bad. But when I clamour to comfort and stability instead of clinging on to Christ who calls me upon the waters of risk and unknown, I put my hope in control and my own plans. I trust other gods.

So these gods parade, masquerading as innocent statues, creeping stealthily into our lives, choking out the wholesome parts and pushing away our affections for God. The struggle is real. We must beware. We need to take stock. We need to repent. And like Gideon, we must tear down those altars we have built.

I just want to end with a simple question for you. No matter where you live, whether in Taiwan where the gods are more visible, or in the West where the gods are inconspicuous, these gods exist. We all have things we bow and give our lives to. Take a moment to think.

What are the gods in your life? Are they worth serving?