Taoist chief helps give modern face to religion
He gets nice surprise as latest Census figures show faith is reversing its decline
By Lee Siew Hua, Senior Writer
TAOIST chief Tan Thiam Lye, 62, who has played a relentless role in rebranding a once fading faith, is looking forward to a bustling Chinese New Year.
For the first time in 30 years, he is comforted that the decline in Singapore's Taoist population has reversed. Today, 10.9 per cent of residents count themselves Taoists, according to Census 2010 figures released last month. This is a surprising - if slight - upswing from 8.5 per cent in 2000.
The Taoist Federation chairman had expected a continued dip instead, so this is 'very comforting news' for him. But he sees no room for complacency as the 2,000-year-old faith is still battling attrition from the young, sceptical and English-educated.
'The number of people who relate to Chinese beliefs has been declining,' he says sombrely. 'This is the bigger picture we must reflect on.'
He was already reflecting mournfully back in 1990 when Taoist numbers stood at 22.4 per cent - a pronounced slide from 30 per cent in 1980.
The fragility of Taoism - once the island's most popular faith - haunted him at Chinese New Year in 1991 when he visited the temple of his childhood in MacPherson. When he saw how empty the Lorong Koo Chye Sheng Hong Temple was, he wept.
'I was thinking, Buddhist temples were so full and festive. But at my temple, there were no activities or decorations,' he says in Mandarin.
'People were playing football and badminton on the empty grounds instead. My tears just flowed,' he recalls. 'I had to do something.'
The following Chinese New Year, he arranged for a Taoist priest at his temple to lead prayers to Tai Sui, the deity of the year. Taoists believe that 60 Tai Sui deities - or Star Lords - take turns to preside over the world each year.
That first year, about 170 people showed up to pray for good fortune.
But over the next two decades, the event grew, with queue numbers and yellow paper dispensed to devotees to write prayers for blessings to Tai Sui. Last year, more than 60,000 people surged to the Sheng Hong temple for the month-long event, beginning on the fourth day of Chinese New Year.
His idea to popularise a tradition, while taking into account the needs of devotees, worked. And he has continued to apply those principles today.
In the past, he notes, Tai Sui prayers were the profitable domain of fortune tellers, who sometimes charge a hefty fee to pray for each family. Now, the Sheng Hong temple accepts any donation from worshippers or sells them stacks of joss paper at inexpensive rates.
Since 1992, the Tai Sui rituals, which originated in China, have spread to many temples here, with his encouragement. At least 20 temples also have halls dedicated to all 60 Tai Sui deities.
All this has put Singapore on the Taoist world map. Visiting Taoist leaders from Malaysia, Thailand, Hong Kong and China speak admiringly of the event. Even the Chinese in Beijing and southern coastal cities hope to revive the tradition by learning from Singapore's livelier version.
'In Singapore, it is a family event. Many young families take part too. In China, it is a more personal and individualistic practice,' observes the businessman, who travels to China frequently for work and to visit sacred Taoist sites.
Mr Tan owns trading company Hoeli Enterprise, which specialises in products and handicrafts from China and Taiwan, and passed the reins to his elder son a few years ago.
Meanwhile, his activism has gained pace. He became secretary-general of the Taoist Federation in 1998, and its chairman in 2002.
Under his watch, the Taoist Federation Youth Group was launched in 2007, followed by the Taoist College a year later. Earlier, he started the quarterly Taoist News in 2005.
While he does not speak much English, he has encouraged public outreach in the language and the rise of young, bilingual, tech-savvy leaders such as Master Chung Kwang Tong, 26, a priest who is also the federation's administrator.
His academic director at the Taoist College is a young woman, Professor Xu Liying, 33, from Xi'an, China. He reasons: 'The image of Taoism is changing. It used to be more associated with the elderly. But Taoists are more educated and bilingual now, and merely going to the temple to pray cannot satisfy their spiritual needs. They want to use and share their knowledge.
'We also have social media and traditional arts,' he says, indicating that Taoism can have a modern face and a traditional spirit.
The influx of new Chinese immigrants like Prof Xu is one factor in revitalising Taoism here, he reckons. And more importantly, temples have become more dynamic in recent years, he points out.
These places of worship now bustle with year-round grassroots activities, offering tuition, study grants, childcare, student care, dialysis centres, travel, tai chi and even karaoke in the heartlands.
'All these were initiatives from the ground. The temples learnt from one another,' he notes.
Women's wings, youth groups and senior citizen panels have also sprung up in some of Singapore's 1,000 Taoist temples. Nearly half of them are members of the federation, which is now trying to unify the body of believers.
With the Census showing that Taoists and Buddhists have experienced the largest shifts to Christianity or the non-religious group, he knows that Chinese religions will have to intensify their use of varied grassroots platforms to reach out to more - and soon.
'Otherwise, the next generation may not feel comfortable visiting a temple. And like the community centres, if there are no activities, nobody will come,' he worries.
But in trying to contemporise his faith, he finds himself more than ever tangled with the basics.
Many times, town council members have asked him to intervene when high-rise flat-dwellers refuse to reposition their incense burners, which hang over parapets to face the heavens, to a less perilous place inside their homes.
Busy as he is, the adviser of more than 50 temples personally visits the families in places like Tampines and Bishan, often during Chinese New Year.
He recounts: 'They will demand, 'Where are you from? The HDB?'
'I say, 'No, I am from the Taoist Federation'.
'Then they say, 'Oh come in. Tell me what to do'.'
His preference for the personal touch was also evident when he called on 27 religious leaders to invite them to the 20th anniversary celebrations of the Taoist Federation last December.
Mr Tan, president of the Inter-Religious Organisation (IRO), decided to turn the event at the Singapore Expo into an interfaith dialogue for 3,000 faith leaders.
'As the IRO president, I had a vision to unite leaders of prominent organisations. Now, we are friends,' he says, noting that Taoists are 'very embracing' of other religions.
He quotes from the Tao Te Ching, the classical Taoist text believed to be penned by Lao Tzu, to underscore the inclusive nature of the faith: 'All things end in the Tao as rivers flow into the sea.'
He adds: 'Taoism emphasises harmony and balance, in society and among faiths. So we take the first step to build bridges and to take part in the interfaith movement.'
At the anniversary, he and New Creation Church deacon Matthew Kang crooned a contemporary Hokkien ballad, Jit Lang Jit Puah - meaning One Half Each.
With that song, they put behind a painful year when Taoism hit the headlines for the wrong reasons. Taoists were offended that pastors of two megachurches - New Creation and Lighthouse Evangelism - made light of Taoist tenets in sermons uploaded on the Internet last year.
He says: 'The song has a profound meaning. The idea of one half for each person is that we can all co-exist and enlarge our common space.'
He, himself, was quick to pick up an idea from New Creation when he popped into its studio on two occasions to rehearse the song. He spied drums and modern instruments, and thought to himself: 'Taoists can do that too.' Religions can share best practices, he adds.
City Harvest Church is now a 'friend' too. Leaders from Singapore's biggest church, with an attendance of more than 33,000, and other faith leaders will visit the federation for a Chinese New Year lo-hei lunch for about 50 people on Saturday.
Chinese New Year is the most hectic season on his calendar, and an unmatched opportunity to rally the troops. For a whole month, he will be at his temple, day and night, to oversee operations.
He will not even pause to enjoy reunion dinner with his wife, two sons and three grandsons. The family will relish a steamboat feast at his temple instead.
But, no complaints. This Chinese New Year is bigger and brighter than ever for him.
[email protected]
He gets nice surprise as latest Census figures show faith is reversing its decline
By Lee Siew Hua, Senior Writer
TAOIST chief Tan Thiam Lye, 62, who has played a relentless role in rebranding a once fading faith, is looking forward to a bustling Chinese New Year.
For the first time in 30 years, he is comforted that the decline in Singapore's Taoist population has reversed. Today, 10.9 per cent of residents count themselves Taoists, according to Census 2010 figures released last month. This is a surprising - if slight - upswing from 8.5 per cent in 2000.
The Taoist Federation chairman had expected a continued dip instead, so this is 'very comforting news' for him. But he sees no room for complacency as the 2,000-year-old faith is still battling attrition from the young, sceptical and English-educated.
'The number of people who relate to Chinese beliefs has been declining,' he says sombrely. 'This is the bigger picture we must reflect on.'
He was already reflecting mournfully back in 1990 when Taoist numbers stood at 22.4 per cent - a pronounced slide from 30 per cent in 1980.
The fragility of Taoism - once the island's most popular faith - haunted him at Chinese New Year in 1991 when he visited the temple of his childhood in MacPherson. When he saw how empty the Lorong Koo Chye Sheng Hong Temple was, he wept.
'I was thinking, Buddhist temples were so full and festive. But at my temple, there were no activities or decorations,' he says in Mandarin.
'People were playing football and badminton on the empty grounds instead. My tears just flowed,' he recalls. 'I had to do something.'
The following Chinese New Year, he arranged for a Taoist priest at his temple to lead prayers to Tai Sui, the deity of the year. Taoists believe that 60 Tai Sui deities - or Star Lords - take turns to preside over the world each year.
That first year, about 170 people showed up to pray for good fortune.
But over the next two decades, the event grew, with queue numbers and yellow paper dispensed to devotees to write prayers for blessings to Tai Sui. Last year, more than 60,000 people surged to the Sheng Hong temple for the month-long event, beginning on the fourth day of Chinese New Year.
His idea to popularise a tradition, while taking into account the needs of devotees, worked. And he has continued to apply those principles today.
In the past, he notes, Tai Sui prayers were the profitable domain of fortune tellers, who sometimes charge a hefty fee to pray for each family. Now, the Sheng Hong temple accepts any donation from worshippers or sells them stacks of joss paper at inexpensive rates.
Since 1992, the Tai Sui rituals, which originated in China, have spread to many temples here, with his encouragement. At least 20 temples also have halls dedicated to all 60 Tai Sui deities.
All this has put Singapore on the Taoist world map. Visiting Taoist leaders from Malaysia, Thailand, Hong Kong and China speak admiringly of the event. Even the Chinese in Beijing and southern coastal cities hope to revive the tradition by learning from Singapore's livelier version.
'In Singapore, it is a family event. Many young families take part too. In China, it is a more personal and individualistic practice,' observes the businessman, who travels to China frequently for work and to visit sacred Taoist sites.
Mr Tan owns trading company Hoeli Enterprise, which specialises in products and handicrafts from China and Taiwan, and passed the reins to his elder son a few years ago.
Meanwhile, his activism has gained pace. He became secretary-general of the Taoist Federation in 1998, and its chairman in 2002.
Under his watch, the Taoist Federation Youth Group was launched in 2007, followed by the Taoist College a year later. Earlier, he started the quarterly Taoist News in 2005.
While he does not speak much English, he has encouraged public outreach in the language and the rise of young, bilingual, tech-savvy leaders such as Master Chung Kwang Tong, 26, a priest who is also the federation's administrator.
His academic director at the Taoist College is a young woman, Professor Xu Liying, 33, from Xi'an, China. He reasons: 'The image of Taoism is changing. It used to be more associated with the elderly. But Taoists are more educated and bilingual now, and merely going to the temple to pray cannot satisfy their spiritual needs. They want to use and share their knowledge.
'We also have social media and traditional arts,' he says, indicating that Taoism can have a modern face and a traditional spirit.
The influx of new Chinese immigrants like Prof Xu is one factor in revitalising Taoism here, he reckons. And more importantly, temples have become more dynamic in recent years, he points out.
These places of worship now bustle with year-round grassroots activities, offering tuition, study grants, childcare, student care, dialysis centres, travel, tai chi and even karaoke in the heartlands.
'All these were initiatives from the ground. The temples learnt from one another,' he notes.
Women's wings, youth groups and senior citizen panels have also sprung up in some of Singapore's 1,000 Taoist temples. Nearly half of them are members of the federation, which is now trying to unify the body of believers.
With the Census showing that Taoists and Buddhists have experienced the largest shifts to Christianity or the non-religious group, he knows that Chinese religions will have to intensify their use of varied grassroots platforms to reach out to more - and soon.
'Otherwise, the next generation may not feel comfortable visiting a temple. And like the community centres, if there are no activities, nobody will come,' he worries.
But in trying to contemporise his faith, he finds himself more than ever tangled with the basics.
Many times, town council members have asked him to intervene when high-rise flat-dwellers refuse to reposition their incense burners, which hang over parapets to face the heavens, to a less perilous place inside their homes.
Busy as he is, the adviser of more than 50 temples personally visits the families in places like Tampines and Bishan, often during Chinese New Year.
He recounts: 'They will demand, 'Where are you from? The HDB?'
'I say, 'No, I am from the Taoist Federation'.
'Then they say, 'Oh come in. Tell me what to do'.'
His preference for the personal touch was also evident when he called on 27 religious leaders to invite them to the 20th anniversary celebrations of the Taoist Federation last December.
Mr Tan, president of the Inter-Religious Organisation (IRO), decided to turn the event at the Singapore Expo into an interfaith dialogue for 3,000 faith leaders.
'As the IRO president, I had a vision to unite leaders of prominent organisations. Now, we are friends,' he says, noting that Taoists are 'very embracing' of other religions.
He quotes from the Tao Te Ching, the classical Taoist text believed to be penned by Lao Tzu, to underscore the inclusive nature of the faith: 'All things end in the Tao as rivers flow into the sea.'
He adds: 'Taoism emphasises harmony and balance, in society and among faiths. So we take the first step to build bridges and to take part in the interfaith movement.'
At the anniversary, he and New Creation Church deacon Matthew Kang crooned a contemporary Hokkien ballad, Jit Lang Jit Puah - meaning One Half Each.
With that song, they put behind a painful year when Taoism hit the headlines for the wrong reasons. Taoists were offended that pastors of two megachurches - New Creation and Lighthouse Evangelism - made light of Taoist tenets in sermons uploaded on the Internet last year.
He says: 'The song has a profound meaning. The idea of one half for each person is that we can all co-exist and enlarge our common space.'
He, himself, was quick to pick up an idea from New Creation when he popped into its studio on two occasions to rehearse the song. He spied drums and modern instruments, and thought to himself: 'Taoists can do that too.' Religions can share best practices, he adds.
City Harvest Church is now a 'friend' too. Leaders from Singapore's biggest church, with an attendance of more than 33,000, and other faith leaders will visit the federation for a Chinese New Year lo-hei lunch for about 50 people on Saturday.
Chinese New Year is the most hectic season on his calendar, and an unmatched opportunity to rally the troops. For a whole month, he will be at his temple, day and night, to oversee operations.
He will not even pause to enjoy reunion dinner with his wife, two sons and three grandsons. The family will relish a steamboat feast at his temple instead.
But, no complaints. This Chinese New Year is bigger and brighter than ever for him.
[email protected]
