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The Temple of Mysterious Virtue is broadly representative of successful Chinese spirit medium (tang-ki) temples in Singapore that have outgrown the confines of HDB apartments and relocated to larger premises in cheaper industrial areas. Reflecting a trend instigated by Singapore’s Housing Development Board of relocating citizens “in public housing neighbourhoods with representations of Malay, Chinese and Indian residents that were reflective of the ethnic mix at the national level […] 77 per cent Chinese residents, 15 per cent Malays, 7 per cent Indian” (Teo et al. 2004: 99), this temple caters to a multi-ethnic and multi-religious community. Located high above the sprawling metropolis in west Singapore, Chinese, Malay and Hindu deities are worshipped and Chinese and Hindu deities are consulted by their devotees through their spirit mediums. The temple was originally founded by a child medium in his parent’s HDB apartment in 1986, and this photo-essay details some aspects of last year’s annual anniversary celebrations (Figure 1).
Figure 1:
Inviting the Generals of the Five Directions and feeding their stallions.
The first morning was devoted to inviting the Generals of the Five Directions to watch over and guard all ritual proceedings, a ritual invitation which included feeding their horses and which was performed daily. Reflecting the pragmatic nature of Chinese vernacular religion, the generals serve the temple they are housed in, and obey the temple’s tang-ki whose authority is legitimated by the Jade Emperor in a ritual performed at one of two Jade Emperor temples in the country. In Singapore, a tang-ki may only practice after receiving permission from the Jade Emperor, acquiescence ascertained by the casting of divination blocks (bue). Bue are two crescent shaped convex wooden blocks which may land either flat or convex sides facing up. When one convex side faces up and the other down, it signifies a ‘yes’ answer, the probability of receiving a positive answer being 50 %. However, this tradition of petitioning the Jade Emperor is absent in Taiwan, but has become increasingly important in Singapore with the increasing popularity of the Underworld deities Tua Ya Pek and Di Ya Pek who are often described by tang-ki as half deity – half ghost, and whose rank as Underworld enforcers would otherwise be insufficient to master heavenly generals. The Five Generals are the Jade Emperor’s nephew Er Lang Shen representing west; Lei Gong the God of Thunder representing east; Marshal Kang representing south; Zhao Gong Ming the Military God of Wealth representing north; and as overall commander, Prince Na Zha who holds the title of Marshal of the Central Altar – Zhong Tan Yuan Shuai representing the central camp. These are the principal commanders of the Heavenly armies, and individually, each holds a high rank in the Taoist pantheon. Therefore, even though as a group they are subordinate to the residing tang-ki, each general was invited individually with the respect commanded by their rank. Bue were then thrown to make sure that each had arrived, and then again to make sure that they were satisfied with the food and drink offered to them. Joss money was also burned for them to distribute to their spirit armies.
However, the main ritual activity on the first day was to invite the Jade Emperor to the celebrations, and to achieve this successfully, the tang-ki and a Taoist priest worked together, each undertaking different ritual functions. This cooperation between the folk and orthodox traditions is indicative of Singapore’s contemporary religious landscape. In Taiwan for example, while orthodox priests perform rituals in folk Taoist temples, they do not, as a rule, perform a ritual together with a spirit medium in a trance state channelling (trancing)(1) a deity.
There were some preliminary ritual entertainments for devotees and temple members to watch including lion dances and a dragon dance while more serious though less spectacular rituals were being performed elsewhere. Inside the temple, four tang-ki went into trance, two visiting tang-ki and the two temple owners. The male tang-ki tranced Jigong, Lotus Flower San Tai Zi, the Iron Axe Marshal Tiefu Yuanshuai and Lin Fu Wang Ye, and the female tang-ki, Guan Yin (Figure 2).
Figure 2:
Representing auspiciousness, the dragon pays respects to the temple’s deities.
Once in trance, what resembled a theatre of pain was constructed running from the consultation table at the temple’s centre to the external altar to the Jade Emperor. A selection of ritual weapons were laid on the floor on joss money, and in turn, each of the male tang-ki self-flagellated with the them, their intent being to draw blood with which to daub ritual objects. The weapons used included two axes, two Dragon Tiger Swords, two machete with a serrated edge and a cudgel with 108 protruding spikes both referred to as a ‘shark’, and a nail ball consisting of 108 nails protruding from a wooden sphere. It is generally believed that the blood of a possessed tang-ki carries the blessings of the deity channelled, blessings which are transferred into the material objects. It is not uncommon for temple members to carry a sash which, when blood is let, is eagerly presented to the tang-ki to have its power fortified. I asked the tang-ki why such spectacle was required for the relatively small amount of blood required for the event, and he replied that it is natural to “display what one cherishes” and that the gift of blood was to “present a treasure” to the deity’s devotees. Some objects would be given to devotees, others had been paid for in advance, and some would be sold in the action that follows such festivals in Singapore to raise money for the temple. The most numerous objects were banners and lanterns with the temple’s name which devotees would hang over their front doors for a year to bring the blessings of the temple’s deities in to their homes (Figures 3 and 4).
Figure 3:
Weapons used for ritual self-mortification.
Figure 4:
Drawing blood to add efficacy thus rendering material objects sacred.
Figure 2 illustrates the familiarity between the orthodox priest and the tang-ki who was trancing Jigong. The photo was taken earlier in the day and they were in fact discussing the order of the day’s rituals. As an employee, the priest deferred to the tang-ki’s decisions, and in return, the tang-ki made clear to devotees that the priest was essential and important in the ritual arena. In the rare instances where the priest felt he could not participate as required in a ritual that had been invented by the temple and conflicted with orthodox practice, he would instead chant a scripture of blessings for the benefit of devotees. Therefore, unknown to participants, on these occasions, two unconnected rituals were being performed simultaneously – the intended ritual by the tang-ki accompanied by orthodox liturgical chants (Figure 5).
[Correction added after online publication 8 September 2016: “The photo to the right illustrates”… was be replaced by “Figure 2 illustrates…”]
Figure 5:
Cooperation between religious specialists from the folk and orthodox traditions.
While the tang-ki were letting blood, outside at a separate altar, the priest had been chanting a scripture of inviting for the Jade Emperor, the Wu Dan Zhou from the Zhengyi Taoist sect. The words of the scripture would mingle with the abundant incense smoke and be carried upwards towards Heaven, and the red candles on the altar would light the deity’s way to the altar. After each tank-ki had finished marking sacred objects, they moved outside to observe the priest’s rituals. This gave me the chance to talk with them and establish their relationship with the temple. As it turned out, each tang-ki had their own temple, the ritual connection between them being an extension of membership of the same triad brotherhood, the Bamboo United Society. Since the breakdown of pre-urbanization ritual networks based on village (kampong) or clan name associations, friendships forged during national service, in secret societies or at temple banquets have all functioned as new forms of temple networking in Singapore. This has created an environment whereby mutual participation by tang-ki in each other’s rituals has become the norm (Figure 6).
Figure 6:
Taoist priest inviting the Jade Emperor at an external altar.
As the evening wore on, more rituals were performed by the priest including ‘opening the eyes’ of new statues bought by devotees. This is usually done by the tang-ki in trance at the Temple of Mysterious Virtue, but they relinquished the duty on this occasion. While the end result is that the statues become spiritually efficacious sacred objects, there are significant differences between the folk and orthodox belief systems and rituals. While the orthodox system considers statues as aids for contemplation, a means to pay respects to the deity and as a way of communicating with them, the emic belief of practitioners is that a deity statue with its ‘eyes opened’ becomes a receptacle for the deity whereby the deity can be brought directly into one’s home or temple. Whilst a tang-ki has the authority of the possessing deity to ‘open a statue’s eyes’, the priest, through liturgical invocations, attains the assistance of Heaven deities that he calls upon. In both cases, dissolved cinnabar is used with a small brush, and dots are placed on the top of the statues head, its eyes, ears, neck, shoulders, heart, hands, legs, knees and feet, as well as on any weapon or other articles the deity is holding. In the orthodox tradition, the vital organs are also ‘dotted’, and the priest uses a mirror to reflect light onto the deity statue to make its efficacy stronger. During the process, the Chinese character ling meaning ‘spirit’ is drawn on the mirror along with a secret talisman which the priest informed me was “to bring wealth, and to destroy malicious spirits with the mirror’s light” (Figure 7).
Figure 7:
Using the power of a talisman and reflected light to ‘open the eyes’ of a deity statue.
Returning to the ritual invitation to the Jade Emperor, after much incense had been lit, joss paper burned, scriptures recited and offerings made, once again using bue, the Jade Emperor was asked whether he had accepted the invitation. When throwing bue, statistically the probability of receiving a ‘yes’ answer increases with each attempt from 50 % to 75 % with two casts, 87.5 % in three and 93.75 % in four. After four consecutive ‘no’ answers, Jigong stood up and encouraged everyone to pay respects to the Jade Emperor guaranteeing that if they prayed hard enough, he would agree to come. He jokingly picked up a baby and put its hands together and held it up and good humouredly cajoled the crowd into joining in. The bue were thrown again, and sure enough, the Jade Emperor acquiesced. However, he wasn’t to stay long. I was informed by the priest that traditionally people invited the Jade Emperor at 11am, and sent him off the same afternoon after reporting their activities to him, but that local customs have changed and nowadays he is invited at night and sent off the next afternoon. I suggested that this may be because in the religious calendar the day begins at 11PM or due to the fact that most devotees are busy in the daytime, but was then informed by the temple’s tang-ki that it was their intention to pray to him at first light, “at 5:45 in the morning we need to pray to him so that what we say to him he can hear. He is there to witness the first day of the event and then other deities can act as witness” (Figure 8).
Figure 8:
Casting bue to confirm the Jade Emperor has accepted the offerings and invitation.
The primary ritual on the second day was therefore sending off the Jade Emperor, though individual consultations, healing, purification, and luck changing rituals were performed by the tang-ki throughout the day. I queried why the lesser ranked Generals of the Five Directions were invited every day and the Jade Emperor only for a single day, and it was explained that the Jade Emperor had far too many responsibilities to be present for the whole five days, the important thing being that all planned activities had been reported to him and acknowledged in advance.
The sending off ritual was spectacular and involved several priests and tang-ki, and numerous food offerings. These included five fruits representing the five elements and five directions, and a pig’s head and tail – the latter necessary to signify that it was in fact a whole pig, the remainder of the animal being offered to the Generals of the Five Directions and then eaten by devotees to bring them blessings. Following the same procedure as the night before, once it was ascertained that the Jade Emperor was satisfied with the proceedings, his altar which had been set up outside the temple was dismantled, then transported to public incineration bins along the main road to be ‘sent off’ in flames back to the heavenly realms. Of key interest is that the altar included a palace constructed of cardboard which was richly decorated with figures of deities and shrouded with sugar cane. Previously such palaces would have been absent, but with increasing wealth, festivals in Singapore have become increasingly elaborate, and to ‘gain face’ i. e., ‘to keep up with the neighbours’, palaces and other combustible paraphernalia have become progressively larger. The priest expressed this succinctly, “this is not related to Taoism; this is about abundance”. Only one item was spared the flames, an image of a god of wealth Qilin Caishen placed on a stack of joss money which, from the tang-ki’s perspective, meant that wealth would continue to flow in to the temple with the Jade Emperor’s blessing in the coming year. The inclusion of sugar cane is a Hokkien tradition based on numerous versions of a story in which imperial Chinese or Japanese soldiers came to massacre villages in Hokkien speaking areas, and villagers escaped by hiding in sugar cane fields. A more recent example from Singapore is that of Hokkien speaking civilians escaping death in the first few weeks of the Japanese occupation of Singapore in February 1942 by hiding in sugar cane fields that they had planted. An alternate explanation is based on homonyms whereby the Hokkien word for sugar cane is ‘gam jia’ (甘蔗) which sounds similar to gratitude, ‘gam xia’ (感谢). Other examples of homonyms being the basis for the creation of symbolic objects include altar offerings such as apples ‘ping guo’ (苹果) as in Mandarin the first syllable sounds the same as ‘pingan’ (平安) meaning ‘peace’; bananas, as both banana (香蕉) and ‘gold beckon’ (金招) in Hokkien are pronounced ‘gim jio’; pineapple (凤梨) as the Hokkien is pronounced the same as ‘prosperity come’ ‘ong lai’ (汪来), and oranges as in Hokkien the first syllable ‘gel’ (桔) from ‘gela’ (桔子) sounds the same as the first syllable from the Hokkien word for ‘auspicious’ ‘dai gel’ (大吉) (Figures 9 and 10).
Figure 9:
Showing gratitude and respect at the Jade Emperor’s altar.
Figure 10:
A temporary palace for the Jade Emperor’s use behind his altar.
The highlight of day three was the ceremonial crossing of a pingan bridge, a bridge crossing that removes negative energies from one’s mind, body and soul, changes one’s luck for the better, and brings blessings from deities. Lacking ritual space inside the temple, the Temple of Mysterious Virtue set up its pingan bridge in the parking lot immediately outside the temple under the auspices of a black flag referred to in Hokkien as the ‘orh leng’ representing the Lord of the Dark heavens Xiantian Shang Di, and the flags for the external camps of the Generals of the Five Directions (Figures 11 and 12).
Figure 11:
Removed from the Jade Emperor’s palace, Qilin Caishen will draw wealth into the temple over the coming year.
Figure 12:
Summoning deities to guard the pingan bridge and surrounding ritual space.
Candles and incense were lit at eight points marking each of the primary compass points and thus corresponding to the eight sides of the bagua, each set of incense and candles invoking the protection of a deity: Heaven, Earth, the Lord of the Southern Dipper, the Lord of the Northern Dipper, North, South, East and West as well as the Eight Taoist Immortals. Alongside each set were offerings of tea as a sign of respect to the deity, oranges representing auspiciousness and joss money to pay for the deity’s services as their work is contractual and they do not work for free. Beneath the bridge was a bowl of scented water symbolising a river and an oil lamp was placed inside, not representing fire, but instead symbolic of the moon reflecting light onto the river. The five coloured cloth on the bridge represents the Generals of the Five Directions, and also the five elements that are believed to constitute the Taoist universe, air, earth, fire, wood and metal. The pingan rituals were shared, the priest performing the opening and closing rituals, and two tang-ki bestowing blessings while guarding the bridge entrance and exit. Temple members prepared the ritual space, and the temple’s primary tang-ki who was trancing Jigong coordinated the ritual activity (Figures 13 and 14).
Figure 13:
The candle in water representing the light of the moon on a stream.
Figure 14:
Jigong leads temple members over the bridge.
The first deities to be invited by the priest were three boundary guards charged with securing the area, followed by the Generals of the Five Directions to prevent malevolent spirits from approaching the bridge. The Bridge General Qiao Qian Jiangjun was then invited to an altar set up facing the bridge’s exit, and finally the tutelary deity Tudi Gong was invited. As each deity was summoned, he held a corresponding flag in his left hand to write a ‘qi’ talisman in the air, while with his right he wielded a snake headed whip which was cracked five times for each deity. Each time the knotted cord broke the sound barrier, it produced a sound reminiscent of a thunder clap, a sound associated with the deity Lei Gong who in popular mythology produced thunder with a drum and mallet to kill demons and those who misused Taoist magic. It is this sound and not the whip itself that wards off malevolent spirits and black magic. Finally, the red buns on the bridge, each representing obstacles that individual’s face in life were removed with the tip of the priest’s sword, thus symbolically removing these obstacles from the lives of devotees who would later follow him over the bridge.
There was a buzz of excitement as devotees gathered themselves into groups based on their Chinese zodiac birth year, each of which would cross in turn, but first, led by Jigong, temple members crossed the bridge. The entrance to the bridge is called the Dragon Gate where negative energies are removed and the exit the Tiger Gate where negative energies are prevented from following, and crossing, perhaps due to expectation, produces a feeling of elation. At the enterance stood the tang-ki trancing Lotus Flower San Tai Zi, his job being to prevent any spirit entities from following the last person to cross in each group. At the exit stood Zhong Tan Yuan Shuai who, in his role as the military commander of the Armies of the Five Directions held spiritual dominium over the bridge. As each participant passed, he touched them lightly on the head with his flag before exiting the Tiger Gate. In Taoism, deity power ‘ling’ is transmitted through flags, and as the blessing was bestowed, it felt as if an electrically charged cool breeze (qi) was passing through one’s body starting at one’s head and exiting into the floor through one’s feet. After crossing, each participant paid respects at the altar of the Bridge General who, in the folk tradition, is believed to help clear obstacles from devotee’s paths (Figure 15).
Figure 15:
Zhong Tan Yuan Shuai bestowing blessings through his flag.
Non-members were each given three incense sticks, joss money, and either a male or female effigy called a tishen to carry across the bridge. Tishen are perceived as a substitute body that will both absorb bad fortune and trick malevolent spirits into thinking that the effigy is the individual, so that if a spirit had been following a person for reasons of their own, they would be incinerated along with the effigy and joss paper at the end of the ritual. Prior to opening the bridge to the public, the priest carried thirteen tishen across the bridge. He explained that “men have less misfortune than women as women have the additional hazard of childbirth. As we were changing luck for twelve months, I carried six males and seven females, one for each month, plus one for the danger associated with giving birth” (Figure 16).
Figure 16:
Tishen providing participants a proxy self in the spirit world.
After all twelve animal signs had crossed, led by the Taoist priest and temple members, everyone crossed for a second time carrying eleven incense sticks which were then taken into the temple to pay respects at the eleven censers dedicated to different temple deities. In order these include Xuantian Shangdi represented by the orh leng; the Jade Emperor; Shancai Tongzi and other Heavenly deities (the main censer); the One Thousand Armed Guan Yin; the Generals of the Five Directions; the year god Tai Sui; the Underworld pantheon, most prominent of which are the City God Cheng Huang, Tua Ya Pek and Di Ya Pek; the Hindu deity Ganesh; the Malay Datuk Gong; the Tiger God representing wealth, and lastly two dogs guarding the Heavenly and Underworld altars (Figure 17).
Figure 17:
Qi or aura cleansing to conclude the pingan bridge rituals.
After offering incense, each devotee was given a cleansing ‘rub’ with their joss money by Jigong. The variety of money used was referred to as changing luck money gai yun qian, and the rub was intended to cleanse each individual’s aura. This concluded the pingan bridge ritual.
Meanwhile, outside, the Taoist priest dismantled the pingan bridge with a sword whose blade was inlaid with stones representing the stars of the Big Dipper. After the ritual items had been removed and the deities informed to return to the temple, the bridge was lifted a foot in the air and dropped, the sudden crash breaking the link between the human and spirit worlds (Figure 18).
Figure 18:
Desacralising the pingan bridge.
The remainder of the evening was dominated by two events. First, temple members began to prepare for the penultimate day’s chao du rituals for their ancestors, and inside the temple, consultations with Guan Yin as tranced through her medium began. As she gave out words of wisdom and advice, most devotees became very moved, some even to tears (Figure 19).
Figure 19:
Guan Yin as tranced through her tang-ki offers sagely advice.
For most participants, the chao du ceremony for ancestors was the most important element of the five-day event. For those with recently deceased relatives, it represented a way of making sure that they made a speedy passage through the Underworld to their next incarnation, and for others, a way of showing respect to their ancestors and of gaining extra blessings from them in return for offerings. While initial preparations were being made for the chao du on the fifth day, rituals were held on day four for the younger generations to help them focus on their school work and to pass their exams.
Both the Taoist priest and Jigong participated in this ritual, the active agency though being the god of exams, Kui Xing. Each family had a tray of ritual objects including black paper graduation hats, red paper hats called guan mao which would have been worn by high ranking officials in ancient China, paper robes, joss money, a gold casket in the shape of ancient Chinese money representing the Money Gods of the Five Directions Wu Lu Cai Shen, and some imitation graduation scrolls. All the objects were ‘dotted’ by Jigong thus ‘opening their eyes’ so that deities could work through them, and three coins with square holes also referred to as wu lu cai shen were added by Jigong. Each object was then picked up by the priest and circulated three times over incense smoke while reciting a scripture. The students (or their parents in their absence) knelt before Jigong and had the hat placed on their heads symbolizing successful graduation, and the children were given encouragement to work hard. As dictated by the contractual nature of the belief system, all of the items bar the casket were then burned as offerings to Kui Xing (Figure 20).
Figure 20:
Placing a dot of cinnabar solution on ritual items to add efficacy.
Overseen by the Underworld deity Di Ya Pek as tranced through his medium, ritual activity continued throughout the day. Di Ya Pek’s mood is usually sombre, but on this occasion he was as convivial and celebratory as I have ever seen him. In Figure 21 he can be seen blessing large sacks of rice which would be divided along with other essentials to be distributed to the elderly from the poorest families in west Singapore (Figure 21).
[Correction added after online publication 8 September 2016: “the photo to the right” was replaced by “Figure 21”.]
Figure 21:
Di Ya Pek with his ghost catching chain blessing sacks of rice.
There had been a Chinese opera and puppet performances playing for the first three days, and his next task was to ritually dismantle their stage, removing the talisman placed there to protect the performers who it is believed may become possessed by the deities or historic characters that they or their puppets portray. In common with dismantling the pingan bridge, the talisman attached to it were burned, the deities they represented sent back to the temple, and then the stage was lifted and allowed to crash on the floor (Figure 22).
Figure 22:
Martel Cordon Bleu: Underworld deity’s drink of choice.
Di Ya Pek then dedicated the remainder of the day to drinking with temple members, happily pouring Martel Cordon Bleu down their throats. Outside the temple, the preparations for the chao du continued, houses for both ancestors and wandering spirits were set up outside the temple entrance for the spirits to stay in overnight while awaiting the chao du offerings. The buildings were segregated with males and females each being allotted one floor, and at the end of the houses there were washrooms for all the spirits to use. As with food offerings, incantations to multiply their size in the spirit world were employed meaning that there was no correlation between the size of the actual paper building and the accommodation allotted for the use of ancestors and wandering spirits (Figure 23).
Figure 23:
Accommodation for ancestral spirits.
The fifth morning was spent filling the tables with offerings to ancestors while at a separate altar, three priests chanted scriptures allowing for the post-mortem forgiveness of sins. The tables for offerings were set up immediately in front of a tent dedicated to Underworld deities, logic dictating that Underworld deities were best positioned to speed up processes happening in the Underworld. Their tent, as is usual in Singapore, was lit by black lights as Underworld deities are not accustomed to sunlight, and it contained statues of the primary Underworld deities as well as amusements for them including mah-jong, cards, alcohol and gambling chips. On the main altar were placed Bao Gong who is associated with judgement, Cheng Huang the City God, and from the Buddhist pantheon the bodhisattva Dizangwang Pusa who renounced enlightenment until the Underworld has been emptied of souls. Placed along the two remaining closed sides of the tent were the twenty-four helpers of Cheng Huang whose job is to record the deeds of every individual so that correct punishments can be inflicted in the afterlife (Figure 24).
Figure 24:
Twelve of the City God’s scribes were placed on each side of the Underworld tent.
Meanwhile, inside the temple there was an unusual ritual taking place. In front of the altar table there was a trough of dried mixed beans similar to those used to feed the horses belonging to the Generals of the Five Directions. These particular beans though had been blessed by ‘The Boss’ (the highest ranked deity tranced by the spirit medium) Xuantian Shangdi, by the Taoist priests and finally by Di Ya Pek. They were clearly highly prized as they represented wealth in all its manifestations: mental, spiritual and material. Di Ya Pek sat in his throne, and the longest serving members of the temple approached him holding in their hands a small pouch of pink paper which Di Ya Pek filled from the store in the trough. The pouches were then carefully wrapped in plastic bags to stop any ‘wealth’ being lost. Di Ya pek then called me to the front and announced that I would be his representative, and leaned back in his throne and watched while each temple member approached me, bowed, and held out their pouches which, much to their delight, I generously filled. Once this ritual was over, Di Ya Pek returned to the Underworld to be replaced by Sai Ya Pek, an Underworld deity associated with filial piety who would oversee the chao du ritual (Figures 25 and 26).
Figure 25:
Money and food for the ancestral spirits.
Figure 26:
Liturgical chant to bring blessings to devotee’s ancestors.
Attention then moved outside and to the job of filling the tables of offerings. Each ancestor was offered food and money, and so that they could find their individual offerings, their names were added on yellow talisman held in place between layers of joss money. Incense was then lit in each object to attract the attention of the ancestors so that they could receive their offerings. While this provided the primary visual focus, the important rituals were those performed by the Taoist priests petitioning the Jade Emperor to bestow forgiveness and blessings upon the ancestors. As orthodox Taoism does not call upon the Underworld deities in rituals nor represent them in anthropomorphic form in temples, I inquired how they felt about performing the chao du ritual in front of the Underworld tent. They replied that it went unnoticed as their full attention “heart and soul” were focussed on acquiring merits to assist the ancestors in discarnate realms. For the wandering spirits, that is, ghosts who do not have descendants to make them offerings, scriptures of salvation and repentance were left open on the table for them to read. Once again the ritual was ended when bue confirmed that both the ancestors and Jade Emperor were satisfied with the proceedings, and that the offerings had been accepted.
The paper buildings which had housed the spirits overnight were then loaded onto trucks along with several tonnes of joss money, and much to my surprise, several tables of actual food and drinks. These were all then transported to the main road by truck and placed in incinerators for a grand ‘sending off’. According to the tang-ki, the ancestral spirits remain in the houses and return to other realms when the burning takes place, the earlier rituals preparing them to leave the mortal realm. In Singapore, fires are only permitted in government sanctioned locations, in this instance, large cages placed along the road next to the building where the temple is housed. Overseen by both the Taoist priest and Sai Ya Pek, bue were thrown again and after a ‘yes’ ascertained, the contents of the incinerators lit with incense and joss money. As the fire took hold, the priest rang a bell and uttered words of blessing while onlookers prayed for the benefit of their ancestors. Within a minute, the house used by the ancestors caught alight, and I stayed by the fire for perhaps twenty minutes watching the flames as they engulfed the food offerings (Figures 27–30).
Figure 27:
The food will be transformed through immolation, thus releasing its spiritual essence.
Figure 28:
Praying to ancestors as their souls are ‘sent off’ to the spirit world.
Figure 29:
As the house burned, the souls within departed.
Figure 30:
Money and food for use in the afterlife.
About 1:30 am on January 1st the flames died down and everyone returned to the temple.
The final day of celebrations was focussed on the annual banquet which functions both to raise money for the coming year through auctioning sacred objects, and as a means of networking as many of the banquet tables had been booked by other spirit medium temples. The banquet was held in a car park in front of the building where the temple is housed, and about one thousand people attended. Looking back to the first photo in this ethnography, that of the Generals of the Five Directions, for the auction, the clothes being worn by the deity statues were removed and each placed on a large pile of joss money, and along with the corresponding small hand painted talisman, sold individually for in excess of one thousand Singapore dollars each (Figure 31).
Figure 31:
The winning bidder carrying off the ‘Urn of Prosperity’.
The most important ritual object sold at each banquet is the Urn of Prosperity. As a material object, it is an ordinary temple censor, but as a ritual object, it takes on a powerful significance. First, it is a miniature replica of the main censor in the temple; second, the urn has been ritually sanctified by the temple’s deity, and third, it has been used to pray to the temple’s deities by devotees, so it is considered in every way a replica of the main urn in the original temple. For the winning bidder, it represents that they are inviting this particular temple’s deities to their house as a guest for one year, and are therefore praying directly to them in their home or business. It also represents prosperity, as when you invite ta deity home, the deity will bring you good luck financially, and prosperity in all its other guises. The winning bidder for the Urn of Prosperity only gets to keep it until the following auction, and therefore it has to be returned to the temple after one year for re-auction. It can only be kept permanently by a family or business if they win the auction three years consecutively. Therefore, if a bidder has won the auction for this prestigious object for two consecutive years, they will bid exorbitant amounts to win for the third time so that the Urn of Prosperity becomes their own property. Both temple auctions and Urns of Prosperity which provide the major income for the majority of Singapore’s smaller temples are absent from Taiwan’s and Malaysia’s folk Taoist landscapes. The urn sold at this banquet for 10,888 Singapore dollars, 888 being an auspicious number, which is roughly 7,200 Euros.
Following the banquet, temple members returned upstairs to the temple to dismantle any remaining decoration, to replace previously hidden ritual objects in new secret places, and to put the deity statues back on the main altar. Once completed, the final ritual act of the anniversary celebration was the ‘sending off’ of payment to the Generals of the Five Directions and their steeds. For all the ‘sending off’s’, yellow talisman drawn by Xuantian Shangdi were attached to the incinerators to authorise the burning. As such, from the emic perspective, deities themselves provide the legitimization for ritual activities through their tang-ki, simultaneously legitimizing the power of the tang-ki to their followers (Figures 32–34).
Figure 32:
Preparing to ‘send off’ the stallions belonging to the Generals of the Five Directions.
Figure 33:
Burning money as wages for the General’s troops.
Figure 34:
A migrant worker watching the flames die down.
And thus it was, in a spectacular blaze of fire, that the week’s ritual celebrations came to a successful end.
Singaporean English used to describe channeling a deity in a trance state.
