我的捷克學伴來台後，非常著迷於台灣多元的宗廟文化，並察覺到台捷間的宗教差異。以下是我把他原文的觀察與感想翻譯成中文的內容：
當我漫步在台灣的城市，或騎著腳踏車在鄉村間遊蕩，我發現台灣到處都有寺廟。這些色彩繽紛、裝飾精美、具歷史感的廟宇，往往與周圍現代的灰色建築形成鮮明對比。
我想，寺廟必然在台灣人的生活中扮演重要角色，否則不會維護如此得好。當參觀這些廟宇時，我盯著那些金色雕像與紅燈籠，思考著：宗教在台灣是如何運作的？台灣與捷克的宗教文化又有什麼不同？
捷克人不信教 vs. 台灣宗教百花齊放
首先，容我簡介捷克的宗教現況。雖然過去捷克主要信奉基督教，但目前捷克是世界上「最無神論的國家」之一。 根據最新的人口普查，只有約 22% 的捷克人有宗教信仰，其中 11.7% 是基督徒；近 48% 的人口無宗教信仰，其餘 30% 的人沒有做答。
當然，這不意味著所有捷克人都是無神論者。當中有些人相信某種靈性，並以自己的方式信教，但總體而言，傳統宗教習俗已被多數捷克人摒棄。
這背後有多種原因。幾個世紀以來，不同基督教派之間的衝突，帶給人們巨大的痛苦。例如 15 世紀時，捷克宗教改革家胡斯被活活燒死，開始長達 15 年的宗教戰爭，又稱胡斯戰爭。200 年後，捷克再次受宗教紛爭導致的三十年戰爭蹂躪。此外，當捷克斯洛伐克進入共產主義時期（1948 至 1989 年），宗教信仰受到共產黨的打壓；雖然這些迫害在共產黨垮台後結束，但宗教傳統已被硬生生切斷，捷克人自此對宗教組織抱持懷疑的態度。
現在來談談台灣。在看統計數據時，我發覺台捷之間有 2 個主要差異。在台灣，只有 19% 的人不相信任何宗教，比例遠低於捷克。此外，台灣約有超過 30% 的人口為佛教徒，也有約 30% 的道教徒，宗教信仰似乎更加多元！
但各式各樣的宗教如何和平共處？這或許是西方人看台灣宗教時的疑問。
在許多西方和中東國家，數百年來只有一個官方宗教：基督教或伊斯蘭教。這個體系很教條化：只有一個真神以及一種拜神的方式；若有人表現出其它的宗教形式，可能會被認為是「可疑」的，甚至被直接貼上「褻瀆」的標籤，將受到嚴厲的懲罰。
當然，現在在多數西方地區，嚴格的宗教規則已不再，但它們的影響力仍在，所以我很難想像一個如台灣般存在各種不同宗教信仰，卻沒有衝突的社會。
處在科技先進的社會，人民卻依然迷信？
來台灣前，我對這裡的想像是發展快速、擁有現代技術，以及講究邏輯、工作勤勞、相信科學的台灣人，也許他們一生幾乎沒有從事宗教活動。
但當我和我的台灣朋友交談，並實際拜訪台灣時，我發現這個假設並不正確！事實上，台灣人非常迷信，宗教與傳統儀式更是生活中不可或缺的一部分。
記得有一天，我在台灣拜訪人類學家朋友，他說台灣人若在某處發現人骨遺骸，他們會在那裡興建寺廟，確保亡魂得以安息。他還補充：「台灣人經常到寺廟拜拜，但實際上不知道他們在向哪位神明祈福。」另外，我也發現祭祖對台灣人的重要性，在許多台灣人家裡，有一座小而精緻的神龕，供奉家族的祖先。
我喜歡台灣寺廟的美感，它們對我來說帶有一種神祕的色彩，我一有機會就喜歡四處走訪，我的台灣朋友 T 也會陪我一起。我和她說：「你和許多台灣人一樣都喜歡拜拜！」T 有點惱火地回答：「我是為了陪你好嗎？因為你每次一看到寺廟，就想進去拜拜。」
我以為年輕人對宗教沒那麼虔誠，也不太會迷信。但有一天當 T 回到家，發現一直修不好的冷氣突然正常運轉，T 說：「這肯定是因為我們最近經常拜拜，所以神明把冷氣修好了！」我本來覺得她是在開玩笑，沒想到她是認真這麼想！
廟裡有食物、廁所，且宗教儀式喧鬧多元！
就我所知，台灣人確實經常拜拜，多數是祈求日常生活的順利，例如希望自己或家人財源滾滾、身體健康，這點和西方人祈禱時的想法很像。
但就儀式而言，宗教習俗截然不同。雖然我沒有目睹台灣的重大宗教節日（例如鬼月或大甲媽祖朝聖），但我很幸運看到一些在寺廟前舉行的小型活動。
在宜蘭小漁村裡，一群穿著彩色襯衫的人，把神像帶到寺廟；一個精神恍惚的男人鞭打自己的背，直到開始流血。在台南的一座寺廟，我看到穿著奇裝異服的隊伍，伴隨音樂與鞭炮聲在跳舞，台灣的宗教儀式真的相當喧鬧！
此外，令我驚訝的是，寺廟桌上常放著供奉給神明的食物，這在歐洲教堂大概永生難見。台灣處處便利，就連寺廟也很方便──廟裡有廁所。
除了觀察，我也親身體驗與神明溝通（儘管我是西方人且不信教），我依照手冊上介紹如何正確拜拜的指示，擲了兩個月亮形狀的筊在地上，並拿到一根有數字的竹棍。接著，我依照號碼打開小抽屜拿到一張紙條，上面寫著我會很幸運。希望神明告訴我，如何才能成為幸運之子！
保存下來的古老傳統
除了宗廟，我也會在台灣看到我熟悉的教堂。有些教堂類似古老的歐洲風格，有些外觀則像現代建築，必須靠屋頂的大型十字架才能識別是教堂。儘管在台灣，基督教並非主要宗教，但這裡的基督文化相當豐富；台灣成功實現宗教多元化的同時，還能維持和平、避免信仰分歧可能帶來的衝突。
這次來台灣的經驗顛覆了我原先對台灣人宗教信仰的印象，我也因此意識到，相比歐洲幾個世紀以來一直緩慢而穩定地發展技術，台灣卻是在短時間內有躍進式的發展；但顯然，儘管科技、經濟水平已超越其它國家，台灣社會還需要更長時間適應這些改變。
這也是為什麼，從我一個歐洲人的角度來看，台灣現代快速的發展有時令人感覺是一個很超前的地方，保存下來的古老傳統有時又讓我感覺回到數 10 年、甚至幾世紀以前，但我認為這是一件好事。
無論如何，我對台灣的宗教文化還需要更深入的了解，我也期待未來繼續這方面的觀察。
原文：
A Foreigner’s Perspective: The Diverse Religions of Taiwan
When walking around Taiwanese cities or riding around the countryside, I can’t help but notice the abundance of temples. These colorful, highly decorated sanctuaries with a historical look are often in stark contrast with the more modern and gray buildings around them. They must certainly play an instrumental role in the life of the locals; otherwise, they wouldn’t be so well-maintained. When visiting them, I keep staring at the golden statues and red lanterns, and I have to wonder: how does religion work in Taiwan? And how does it compare to what I’m used to in my country?
A brief introduction to Czech religious background
First, let me briefly introduce how religion works in my country, the Czech Republic. While historically Christian (Christianity was officially adopted in the year 863), it ranks among the most atheist countries in the world. According to the latest census, only around 22% of Czech citizens identify themselves with an official religion, 11,7% of them being Christian. Almost 48% of people identify with no religion, while the remaining 30% didn’t state any answer. This doesn’t mean that all these people are atheists; many of them believe in some sort of spirituality and practice religion in their own way, but overall, the traditional religious practices have been abandoned by most of the population.
This has various causes. There have been centuries of conflicts between different Christian denominations which caused much suffering to the population. For example, in 1415, the Czech religious reformer Jan Hus was burned at stake, which led to the hussite wars. 200 years later, Czech lands were ravaged for mostly religious reasons once again during the Thirty Years’ War. However, probably the most impactful was the period of communism from 1948 to 1989. During this time, religious practices were heavily discouraged and sometimes even persecuted by the ruling Communist party. After the fall of communism, the persecutions were over, but the traditions were already severed, and people grew more skeptical towards organized religions.
Now back to Taiwan. When looking at various statistics, I can see two major differences between the two countries. In Taiwan, there’s also a substantial amount of people who don’t identify with any religion (around 19% according to some estimates), but it’s nowhere near as many as in the Czech Republic. Furthermore, Taiwan seems much more diverse when it comes to religion. More than 30% people identify as Buddhists and more than 30% as Taoists.
But how can all these different religions coexist peacefully? This might be a question that many westerners ask when seeing the religious situation in Taiwan. In many Western and Middle Eastern countries, there was, for centuries, only one official religion: Christianity or Islam. The system was very dogmatic: there was one true God and one true way of worshiping that God. Anything else was considered suspicious at best, or straight up blasphemy at worst, and punishments could be severe. Of course, much of the Western world has moved past these strict religious rules, but their echoes remain, and it can be difficult to imagine a society where different religions are practiced without conflict.
An overabundance of gods
Before coming to Taiwan, I had this idea in my head about the Taiwanese people: they are from a fast-developing country with many modern technologies, they are always logical, hard-working and they believe in science. There can hardly be any time in their life for religion. But when talking to my Taiwanese buddy and then finally arriving in Taiwan, I found out that my assumptions were largely wrong. In truth, the Taiwanese are very superstitious, with religion and various rituals being an important part of their life.
One day, I was visiting Taiwanese friends, and one of them, an anthropologist, told me many interesting things about this country, including religious practices. For example, he said that temples were often established at a place where someone’s remains were found, to make sure their spirit can rest. ＂The Taiwanese will often go pray in a temple without actually knowing which god they’re praying to,＂ he said. Another thing that I learned from this visit was the importance of ancestor worship; there was a small but elaborately decorated shrine where the family’s ancestors are honored, which I heard is commonplace in Taiwanese homes.
I like the aesthetic of the temples; they seem very mysterious and foreign to me, so I like to look around every time I get a chance. My buddy who often guides me through Taiwan would follow me and pray. ＂The Taiwanese pray very often, including you,＂ I said. She seemed a bit annoyed and responded: ＂That’s because you want to enter every temple that we come across.＂ At first, I thought maybe younger people, including my buddy, aren’t so serious about religion and also not so superstitious. But then she came home one day to see that her air conditioning was suddenly working after being broken for a long time. ＂That must be because we have been praying a lot recently! The gods fixed the air conditioning!＂ she said. I thought it’s just a joke, but she was being serious!
Loud and colorful rituals
Many Taiwanese really do pray often. From what I’ve heard, they mostly pray for ordinary things, wishing for money or good health for themselves or their family members. I’d say this is similar to what Westerners think about when praying. But when it comes to rituals, the religious practices are very different.
While I didn’t witness any major feasts linked to Taiwanese religious practices or superstitions (like the Ghost Month or the Dajia Mazu Pilgrimage), I was lucky enough to see some minor events taking place in front of the temples. In a small fishing town in Yilan, there was a crowd of people in colorful shirts bringing statues of gods to the temple, and a man in some sort of religious trance whipping his own back until he started bleeding. And in a temple in Tainan, I saw a procession of dancing people dressed in large, grotesque costumes of gods, with lots of music and firecrackers. Taiwanese rituals can surely be very loud.
I was surprised to see food in many temples as a gift for the gods, which is something you’ll probably never see in a European church. And, like everything in Taiwan, temples can also be very convenient – there are free toilets inside.
Furthermore, I would like to share another experience: one day, I wanted to see if the gods would communicate with me, even though I’m not religious and I’m a Westerner. There was a long manual on how to do it the right way. I grabbed two moon blocks and threw them, and when they landed correctly, I received a stick with a number. Then I opened a small drawer with the corresponding number and there was a letter saying that I will be lucky in everything I do. I sure hope the gods are telling me the truth!
Much to learn
Aside from the Buddhist and Taoist temples, I often see a somewhat familiar sight of a Christian church. Some churches resemble the old European style, while others are more modern buildings, distinguishable only by the presence of a large cross above the entrance. They seem to be abundant as well, despite Christianity not being the main religion in Taiwan. Somehow, Taiwan has managed to be religiously diverse while maintaining peace and avoiding the conflicts that disagreements in faith can bring.
After my initial assumptions about the Taiwanese attitude towards religion have been disproven, I perhaps realized something. While for example Europe has been undergoing mostly slow and steady technological development for many centuries, Taiwan has undergone massive development in just a fraction of the time. But while the economy and technology have surpassed most of the surrounding world, society takes a longer time to adapt to the changes. This is why, from my European perspective, Taiwan sometimes feels like a futuristic place, and other times I feel like traveling several decades or even centuries back in time to see some old traditions that are still maintained despite the encroaching modern world. And I consider that a good thing.
In any case, I still have much to learn about Taiwanese religions and culture, and I’m certainly looking forward to continuing with my observations.
執行、核稿編輯：趙思涵
