The Life of Images in Daoist Ritual

Poul Andersen

The Life of Images in Daoist Ritual

There is a way in which all rituals may be characterized as “acts of enlivenment.”∗ A powerful example is that of the Christian Eucharist, in which the minister dis-penses the central objects of bread and wine to the members of the congregation, saying (in the name of Jesus Christ): “This is my body; this is my blood.” The whole process may be viewed as a way of ensuring that these statements are true. Indeed, according to the narrative of Luke's Gospel, the ceremony was instituted by Christ himself, who commanded his followers to continue doing this “in remem-brance” of him.1 Lutherans believe that it is exactly because of these “Words of Institution,” repeated in the Eucharist, that the body and blood of Christ are truly and substantially present “in and under the bread and wine.”2 And yet, modern Christian theologians (Protestants as well as Catholics) take great pains to argue that, in fact, these statements are not to be construed as literally true, that in the end the bread and wine are not “sacred” in themselves, but rather symbols in a para-lin-guistic act, and that the real presence of God in the event (which many continue to believe in) is of a spiritual nature and quite independent of the actual form of the symbols. According to the Catholic liturgical theologian, Louis-Marie Chauvet, the minimalistic quality of the symbols indicate, among other things, that their specific form carries no value, that God’s “gift of grace” is gratuitous, and that he is “sove-reignly free” in his response to them.3

In other words, when we consider the thematic core of Christian theology, around which debates in the church have turned throughout its history, and from which a multitude of new denominations have continued to be generated, we find ourselves in the thick of persistent ambiguity, and confronting the universal atti-tude about both symbols and images that has been aptly characterized by W. J. T.

∗ This article is a further development of one of the trains of thought that constituted my paper for the Heidelberg conference on “Ritual Dynamics and the Science of Ritual.” As such, it was presented at the symposium on “The Chinese Art of Enlivenment” at Harvard University a few weeks later, on October 24, 2008.

1 Luke 22: 19b-20. See also Billings 2006. 2 Martin Luther, The Large Catechism, Part 5 (1529), McCain, ed. 2007: 432. 3 Chauvet 2001: xv.

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Mitchell as “double consciousness.” In his book from 2005, What Do Pictures Want?, he states as follows:4

“How is it […] that people are able to maintain a “double consciousness” toward images, pictures, and representations in a variety of media, vacillat-ing between magical beliefs and skeptical doubts, naïve animism and hard-headed materialism, mystical and critical attitudes? […] Let me put my cards on the table at the outset. I believe that magical attitudes toward images are just as powerful in the modern world as they were in the so-called ages of faith. I also believe that the ages of faith were a bit more skeptical than we give them credit for. My argument here is that the double consciousness about images is a deep and abiding feature of human responses to represen-tation. It is not something that we “get over” when we grow up, become modern, or acquire critical consciousness. […] Why does the link between images and living things seem so inevitable and necessary, at the same time that it almost invariably arouses a kind of disbelief: “Do you really believe that images want things?” My answer is, no, I don’t believe it. But we can-not ignore that human beings (including myself) insist on talking and be-having as if they did believe it, and that is what I mean by the “double con-sciousness” surrounding images.”

What I like in particular about this account is the emphasis on the fact that the so-called double consciousness about images is far from representing a modern development, but rather constitutes “a deep and abiding feature of human res-ponses to representation.” I shall begin this article by demonstrating that this holds true also for early Daoist reflections on images. However, it is noteworthy that in the above quotation (which comes at the end of a section in the introduction to the book), Mitchell concludes by raising a question that he doesn’t answer, and by suggesting that the proof of our belief in images as “living things” is found in the ways in which we “insist on talking and behaving” in relation to them. I agree en-tirely with the methodology implied in this finally sentence, which indicates that, in order to answer our questions concerning the ways in which people relate to images, we must 1) pay close attention to what they say about it (both orally and in writing), and 2) deduce what is implied about these attitudes by the practices in which they engage. It should be noted, however, that the knowledge that may be derived from these two sources speaks not only to people’s belief, but equally to their disbelief concerning the status of images as living things, i.e., that the sources at our disposal, rather than settling our doubts in this regard, typically tend to con-firm the state of ambiguity and “double consciousness” about images mentioned by Mitchell.

4 Mitchell 2005: 7–11.

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The extent to which images are treated in Daoism as “living presences” or “ob-jects of worship” (or, indeed, as “mere decoration”) clearly varies historically, regionally, and among different categories of participants in ritual – not to mention among different types of images that these participants relate to. Moreover, we have no strong reason to believe that any given person always experiences the same images the same way. In other words, in order to approach a better under-standing of these issues, we need to pay careful attention to individual cases and attempt to analyze each one of them in terms of the two methodological principles mentioned above. For the present purpose I shall give an example of this, based on my fieldwork in Taiwan in the late seventies and mid eighties, when I studied with Daoist High Priest Chen Rongsheng 陳榮盛 of Tainan – and occasionally partici-pated in his ritual performances as an assistant priest. I shall rely, not only on direct communications from Chen Rongsheng and other priests, but also on the conclu-sions that may be drawn from close observation of his performances in relation to the texts that he uses. It will not be suggested that my conclusions apply univer-sally to all forms of Daoism, at all times and in all places. Even so, in order to faci-litate the debate, I shall frame the discussion by referring to some claims about the matter that have been offered by other scholars, some of whom have relied on ma-terials from a different, though related, context.

But first, let us consider the philosophy of images that may be found in Daoist texts from the early Tang dynasty (618–907), a period that clearly was formative regarding the widespread use of images within Daoism, both in the form of statues, murals, and hanging scrolls. While in the Six Dynasties the attitude toward images expressed in Daoist texts had often been rather hostile and marked by the rejection of the use of external images (as opposed to mental representations, i.e., visualiza-tions) of the gods, the early Tang dynasty witnessed a large-scale development in this area, partly as a result of the impact of Buddhism, and along with the accom-modation of many other doctrinal, and philosophical aspects of Buddhism within Daoism. A prominent (though far from unique) example of this is the encyclopedia Daojiao yishu 道教義樞, by Meng Anpai 孟安排 (fl. 699), which opens with the following classical statement, based on quotations from the Daode jing, chapters 21 and 25:5

“The Way, Dao, is perfectly empty and perfectly silent, it is very real (甚真) and very wondrous; and yet, its emptiness penetrates everywhere, its silence responds to everything. Thereupon there is the Celestial Worthy of the Pri-mordial Beginning, Yuanshi tianzun 元始天尊, who responds to the breath and gives form to an image (應氣成象); from silence comes motion, from reality comes response. He emerges from the edge of chaos, in the middle of obscure darkness; he embraces primordial harmony and transforms yin and

5 Daozang 1129, pref.:1a.

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yang. Thus it is that the Daojing of Lord Lao (老君道經) says: “In the ob-scure darkness there is essence, in the chaotic confusion there is an image” (窈冥中有精, 恍惚中有象). It also says: “There was something (a being) formed out of chaos; it was born before heaven and earth. How silent! How still! It stands alone and does not change. It moves all around and is not en-dangered. It may be considered the mother of the universe.” This probably clarifies that Yuanshi tianzun in the middle of chaos responds to the breath and gives form to an image (應氣成象); thus there is a being formed out of chaos.”

The text continues with an account of the activities of Yuanshi tianzun at the beginning of each world period, through which the gods in heaven are saved, and through which the promise of salvation is transmitted to later generations. It is made clear that “the body of the Celestial Worthy lasts forever without being ex-tinguished” (天尊之體常存不滅), but that in the present kalpa the task of saving the many living beings has been delegated to Taishang daojun 太上道君, the second of the Three Pure Ones, who embodies the Scriptures (and thus the founda-tion of the Lingbao tradition). Having explained this to those around him, Yuanshi tianzun continues as follows:6

“For this reason I now ascend to the mystery and enter the wondrous realm. You people with eyes of the flesh will not be able to see my true and real body (汝等肉眼不能見我真實之身); meaning that it has been utterly extin-guished. Only if you cultivate the correct vision, will you be able to see me of your own, just like at this time. If someone is not yet able to clearly dis-cern the empty marks (空相), he still can rely on images in order to attach his heart/mind to me (猶憑圖像, 係錄其心). You must melt purple gold and make a copy of my true marks (寫我真相); you must worship and make of-ferings to it, as if you were facing my true form (如對真形); if you apply your thoughts and pray sincerely, the merit will be of equal measure. People who are poor may make variegated images of clay, wood, or bronze accord-ing to their resources; setting up halls with curtained seats, offerings of ban-ners and flowers, lamps and candles, according to their means, as if they were serving my true body (如事真身). Receiving the karma of these ac-tions, they will in the end return to the supreme Way (上道).”

A very similar set of ideas is found in the Dongxuan lingbao sandong fengdao kejie yingshi 洞玄靈寶三洞奉道科戒營始, another encyclopedic work of the early Tang dynasty. Chapter 2 of this work opens with a section on the production of

6 Daozang 1129, pref.:3a; quoting the now lost Tang dynasty text, Duren benji jing 度人本際經.


images, Zaoxiang pin 造像品, providing one of a very few (if not the only) syste-matic account of such practices in the Daozang. It opens as follows:7

“The great image has no form, perfect reality has no color. Deep and clear, it is empty and silent. Looking and listening do not gain access to it, and yet it transforms in response and makes its body appear (應變見身). Momentarily manifest, it returns to being hidden. That by means of which one may retain the true and real (存真) is attaching one’s thoughts to the saintly counten-ance (係想聖容). Thus, through painting and using gold and jade one may copy the marks of its form and make an image of the true and real counten-ance (像彼真容), adorning and enriching it with white lead. Whenever one seeks to attach one’s heart/mind, one always must first produce an image.”

The passage continues providing a large number of details concerning the mate-rials, sizes, and numbers of statues to be produced, as well as information con-cerning their arrangement and the offerings to be presented to them. It concludes:8

“Day and night one should visualize them as if one was facing the true form (如對真形). People of the past and the future all attain blessings without measure and are able to accomplish the true Way (克成真道).”

It is clear from all of this that the supreme god, as well as all other gods, have a “true and real form” (真形), and that the images produced by human beings are not to be confused with this true form. Instead, they stand as gateways to the divine, and people address them “as if” or rather, “like they were facing the real form.” In a way that is parallel to the first appearance of Yuanshi tianzun at the beginning of time, as the first “image” or “figure,” xiang 象, in the universe, they represent a step down from the ultimate reality of the god. The true reality of the god is the underlying emptiness, to which he “returns to be hidden” (還隱), and which may be addressed through the images produced by mankind. And yet, history abounds with claims about actual images that directly identify them with the true form of the god in question. See, for instance, the following story about a Buddha statue in a temple in Guangxi reported in the Qixiu xugao 七修續稿 by Lang Ying 郎瑛 (1487–c. 1566):9

“The Buddha in the Temple of the Buddha of Immeasurable Longevity (無量壽佛寺) in Quanzhou 全州 in Guangxi is exactly the true body of (the Buddha of) Immeasurable Longevity (無量真身). Its eye balls and finger nails are no different from those of living human beings. Its eyes gaze at things and are able to turn. Its finger nails grow longer over the years …”

7 Daozang 1125.2.1a. 8 Daozang 1125.2.2b. 9 Lang Ying 郎瑛 1961: 841.

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With all its reputation for being entrenched in magic, Daoism (or at least the classical liturgical kind represented by the Zhengyi/Lingbao priests with whom I have studied) actually tends to be a little more cautious with these matters. Thus, when Chen Rongsheng, in one of the major rituals of the jiao 醮, Offering, liturgy, plants the five world-creating talismans, the so-called Wufang zhenwen 五方真文, of the Lingbao tradition, in the five corners of the sacred area, he does this, not by actually drawing the talismans, but in each case by facing a basin filled with rice in which a pad of paper and the appropriate writing utensils have been stuck, chanting a prayer to the first Celestial Master, Zhang Daoling 張道陵 (the founder of his ritual tradition), and asking the latter to fill in the writs. While being present, the writs thus remain invisible, that is, zhen, true and real, in the sense this term was used in the above quotations, also in relation to the true body of Yuanshi tianzun, who was, indeed, the first to propagate these salutary writs in the universe.10 As for the images of the deities, hung by Chen Rongsheng at the boundaries of the sacred area, and representing the totality of the Daoist pantheon, it is noteworthy that none of these have been animated through the performance of an “eye-opening” cere-mony, kaiguang 開光. While other figures used in his liturgy are so treated for the occasion, notably, the cruder paper figurines that are disposed of through burning at the end of the ceremony, such procedures are never applied to the treasure of ritual scrolls (some of which are very old, and certainly not intended for destruc-tion) used by Chen Rongsheng as visual representations of the gods during his per-formances. It should be noted that in other parts of China, and in other Daoist tra-ditions, the animation of the same kind of ritual scrolls through eye-opening cere-monies, is absolutely of the essence, and considered indispensable for their effi-cacy.11 It is, in other words, a variable, and not a practice to be taken for granted in all of Daoism. With this in mind, let us proceed with a closer examination of the status of these ritual scrolls in the Daoism of Chen Rongsheng.

The first to do fieldwork on the Chen family tradition in Tainan was Kristofer Schipper, who made contact with Chen Rongsheng’s father, Chen Weng 陳聬 (1890–1975), already in 1963. In an article entitled “An Outline of Taoist Ritual”

10 See, for instance, the Daijiao yishu, quoted above, in which is stated that in the chaos of the

infinitesimal primordial kalpas, in which there was no form or shadow (無形無影), Yuanshi tianzun fixated the true writs and promulgated their five “chapters” (i.e., sections) (元始安鎭, 敷落五篇); Daozang 1129, pref.:1b.

11 This in general is the case for the Daoist ritual scrolls used among the Yao of Southwest China and Southeast Asia. For an overview of Yao religion and religious artifacts, see Pourret 2002. Note also that the Daoist scrolls collected by Professor Li Yuanguo 李遠國 in the western province of Sichuan (now included in the Sichuan Museum of Primordial Dao-ism 四川原道博物館 in Chengdu) in many cases show traces of the chicken blood and feathers used in eye-opening ceremonies.


(originally presented at a conference on Asian rituals and the theory of ritual in Berlin in 1984), Schipper states as follows:12

“Overall interpretations [of ritual] have been time and again expressed in stories, apologues, theatrical rituals and ritual theater, altar decorations, et cetera, that surround the liturgical tradition as so many explanatory additions or spin-offs. Altar paintings representing gods, hells, and idyllic landscapes are quite unnecessary. They are often seen because they are very decorative. They illustrate that the liturgy is an audience at the heavenly court or a ban-quet of immortals.”

In so doing, he clearly subordinates the role of images in relation to the actual performances of Daoist ritual. In his book from 1982, The Taoist Body, he ex-presses this basic stance concerning the status of images in Daoist ritual by stating as follows about the scroll representing the Golden Gate, Jinque 金闕, which is hung at the center of the sacred area behind the central Cave Table:13

In the middle of the space, right behind the central table, a painted scroll is hung, the only one that is not merely decorative and that has a real function in the ritual.

The attitude of John Lagerwey, whose book from 1987, Taoist Ritual in Chi-nese Society and History, gives an overview of Chen Rongsheng’s ritual tradition, clearly is quite different.14 It is prefigured by a suggestion offered by Schipper to the effect that

“We also see the sphere of the altar as something continuing outward from the master’s own body. Moving “towards the outside,” he projects from his body transcendent forces which radiate and surround him in concentric cir-cles, in an infinite number of finite spaces.”15

While Schipper carefully avoids identifying any of these projections with the concrete visual representations of the gods in the sacred area (in general, these im-ages are, after all, to be considered as “mere decoration”), this is exactly the move made by Lagerwey. In a sustained analysis of the contents of Chen Rongsheng’s sacred area, Lagerwey identifies some of the key images found in the ritual scrolls as representations of specific parts of the body of the high priest and concludes that

“the domain beyond the Metal Gate in the sacred area [i.e., the Golden Portal referred to also by Schipper] is at the top of the head of the Daoist master,

12 Blondeau & Schipper: 117. 13 Schipper 1993: 87. The Golden Gate appears as the character 闕 in Figure 5. 14 Lagerwey 1987; see also Lagerwey 1991. 15 Schipper 1993: 99.

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and the totality of the area is the expression in images of his body: the ritual which will proceed in front of the Grotto Table [translated by me as Cave Table] will take place in his grotto body.”16

There are many problems with this interpretation of the images of the sacred area. Firstly, it has no basis in indigenous interpretations of these images found in Daoist texts or offered by the priests or any other informants, but depends entirely on the author’s understanding of the significance of the inner practices of the high priest in relation to the external proceedings of ritual. Secondly, it relies heavily on very doubtful identifications of some figures represented in the ritual scrolls with specific deities that are involved in the inner practices of the high priest, notably, the identification of Red Robe, Zhuyi 朱衣, one of the guardians of the sacred area (Figure 1), with the alter ego of the high priest (likewise dressed in a red robe), who emerges out of the heart of the priest at the beginning of his inner, medita-tional journey to heaven during the performance of great Audience rituals.

The guardian Red Robe, together with his counterpart Jinjia 金甲, Golden Ar-mor (whose scroll is hung opposite to Red Robe in the other side of the sacred area of a jiao), both have a pre-history as assistants to the god of literature, Wenchang 文昌, who during the Tang dynasty developed out of the cult of the constellation by this name, consisting of six stars in Ursa Major.17 They are the constant compa-nions of Wenchang, who, according to Henry Doré, in paintings generally are represented standing on each side of the god (Figure 2).18 Indeed, in one of the collective scrolls discussed below, used by Chen Rongsheng to represent the vari-ous divine administrations of the universe, namely, the scroll representing the Pre-fecture of Heaven, Tianfu 天府, the two gods appear precisely as members of the entourage of Wenchang (Figure 3).19 As such, the appearance of the two gods is closely similar to their representations as individual guardians in Chen Rong-sheng’s sacred area. The official’s cap worn by Red Robe is of the same kind in all cases, and in all cases he holds a book, which appears to symbolize his connection with the god of literature. As an individual guardian of Chen Rongsheng’s sacred area, he further holds a banner decorated with a constellation (consisting of seven stars, but probably referring to the literary asterism), and he is mounted on a com-posite mythical animal. None of these features pertain to the Red-Robed Perfected, Zhuyi zhenren 朱衣真人, who emerges from the heart of the high priest at the beginning of his inner journey to heaven. The latter figure is identified in Chen

16 Lagerwey 1991: 142 (translated from the French by the author of this article). 17 See Kleeman 1994: 46–51. 18 Doré 1920: 67. 19 Wenchang is the figure on horseback at the bottom of the painting turning his head toward

Zhuyi and Jinjia. The scroll was painted by the famous Pan Lishui 潘麗水 (1914–95), who was from Tainan, and whose temple murals are preserved not only in many temples in south-ern Taiwan, but also in the Baoan gong 保安宮 in Taipei.


Rongsheng’s secret manual as the priest himself (自身是也),20 and in an illustra-tion found in a manual deriving from the Zeng family of Tainan he is, indeed, por-trayed in the image of a Daoist priest holding a court tablet, chaoban 朝版 (Figure 4).21

In Chen Rongsheng’s secret manual, this Red-Robed Perfected and alter ego of the high priest is repeatedly identified with the Great Lord of Long Life, Changsheng dajun 長生大君, one of the supreme gods of the inner pantheon of the human body. In Tang dynasty commentaries on the Duren jing, the Great Lord of Long Life is said to be none other than the Great One, Taiyi 太一, the ancient high god of Daoism, who in the inner world of the human body is thought to reside in the heart, and who in Daoist meditation techniques throughout history has been identified with the inner, immortal persona of the Daoist adept.22 The connection between this figure and the guardian Red Robe thus is limited to the color of their dress and to the fact that, on his return to the human body, the Great Lord of Long Life allegedly has been transformed into “the appearance of a venerable elder.”23 Lagerwey bases this claim on the account found in Schipper’s The Taoist Body,24 and on the description in Chen Rongsheng’s secret manual. However, this secret manual mentions no such transformation, but states quite simply that, on his return to the sacred area (via the inner stages of his own body), “the Great Lord of Long Life, who is the priest himself, stands at the center, while the marshals and generals guard the boundaries of the sacred area as before” (自己長生大君立在中央, 帥將依舊護衛壇界).

It may be added that Lagerwey’s interpretation of the guardians Red Robe and Golden Armor presents them, not only as images of the inner organs of the high priest (associated with the heart and the lungs, respectively), but also as acolytes of the two main patriarchs of the ritual traditions of Daoism, Zhang Daoling and Xuantian shangdi 玄天上帝, who represent the civil and the military techniques of Daoist ritual, respectively. This interpretation depends heavily on the exact place-ment of the two guardians in the corners of the sacred area that sometimes are as-sociated with the directions south and west, and next to the patriarchs. However, the placement of the two scrolls varies, and they are sometimes found adjacent to

20 Longhu shan zhengyi liuhou Zhang tianshi yujue quanji 龍虎山正乙留候張天師玉訣全集,

“Complete Collection of Precious Instructions Left Behind by Celestial Master Zhang of Orthodox Unity at Mt. Longhu” (no pagination).

21 Daozang biyao 道藏秘要, Secret Essentials of the Daoist Canon (no pagination). The origi-nal manuscript in the hand of Zeng Yanjiao 曾演教 (1818–66) was acquired by Kristofer Schipper. The illustration shown in Figure 4 is from the fountain-pen copy of this manuscript that he left behind in the field, of which I obtained a copy from Zeng Chunshou 曾春壽 (1913–92), the last of the Zeng family lineage of Daoist priests in Tainan.

22 See Andersen 2005: 26–29. 23 See Lagerwey 1987: 132. 24 Schipper 1993: 99.

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the Three Worlds Table at the entrance door to the temple, that is, in positions as “quasi-door gods.”25 It should be mentioned, finally, that generic figures referred to as “red-robed ones,” Zhuyi, occur quite commonly in Daoist hagiographical lite-rature, for instance, in the Lidai shenxian tongjian 歷代神仙通鑑 compiled by Xu Dao 徐道 (1712). They are typically portrayed there as subordinate clerks of the underworld or messengers carrying the edicts of the Emperor on High, Di 帝, and they are often said to hold a book or register in their arms.26 It seems obvious that the Red Robe who serves as a guardian of the Daoist sacred area descends from this kind of figure, rather than from the gods of the inner pantheon addressed in Daoist visualization techniques.

This latter point brings up an important underlying issue concerning the deter-mination of the appearances of the gods in this kind of religious art. I wholehear-tedly agree with the following remarks by Paul Katz about the murals of the fam-ous Yongle gong 永樂宮, Palace of Eternal Joy, in southern Shanxi, which date to the first half of the fourteenth century. Katz emphasizes that the content and ap-pearance of the murals of this temple were determined through the interaction of at least two different groups of people, namely,

“the Taoist patrons who sponsored the murals and the local artisans who painted them. The former were members of the Perfect Realization move-ment and had supervised the palace since its rise to prominence during the thirteenth century. They were responsible for hiring the artisans to paint the murals as well as for choosing the texts to which the artisans were supposed to adhere. However, the actual planning and execution of the murals (in-cluding perhaps even the cartouches) lay in the hands of the artisans, who worked within a centuries-old tradition of religious painting.”27

Concerning a related set of traditions, Katz states that, “[a]ccording to mainland Chinese art historians Bo Songnian and Wang Shucun, artisans who made popular prints often watched dramatic performances as a source of inspiration for their work,” and later that “the beliefs artisans held were usually closer to the local cul-ture they lived in than the world of Taoist priests.”28 I believe that something simi-lar may be said about the Daoist ritual scrolls used by Chen Rongsheng, and that this weighs heavily against the interpretations of the contents of the scrolls pro-posed by John Lagerwey.

However this may be, the question of the status of images in Daoist ritual (whether they should be viewed as “mere decoration,” as symbols referring to real-ities that essentially are somewhere else, or as living presences) clearly is not a

25 See also Li Fengmao 李豐楙 1998: 146. 26 See, for instance, Xu Dao 1975, vol. 6: 2357 and 2442. 27 Katz 1999: 134. 28 Ibid.: 140–141.


matter of objective fact, but a question of how these images are experienced by those who participate in ritual. In order to get a better understanding of this, let us have a closer look at some of the ritual practices in Chen Rongsheng’s sacred area, and in particular, at some of the inner practices carried out by the high priest, as he faces some of these images. (As you will recall, the reference to such inner prac-tices was a crucial part of Lagerwey’s argument concerning the status of the im-ages).

Figures 5 and 6 show the rite of “entering the door,” Ruhu 入戶, during the per-formance of the Morning Audience, Zaochao 早朝, on the third day of a five-day jiao in the Jintang dian 金唐殿 in Jiali, Taiwan, in February 1987. The Ruhu is the initial rite of entrance included in the beginning of all major rituals, during which the whole group of priests moves around the sacred area and offers three sticks of incense in each of the four directions, while singing the hymn called “Appellation of the Jade Sovereign,” Yuhuang hao 玉皇號. In Chen Rongsheng’s tradition, the groups of Officials on the eastern and the western walls normally are represented by a set of six ritual scrolls, three of which are hung on each of these walls (Figure 7).29 These scrolls clearly are among the most valued in his collection, not the least because he considers them to date from the Ming dynasty. On some occasions, however, he will (as here) use a set of scrolls, which derives from another icono-graphical tradition of representing the groups of Officials in the sacred area. It is the one that divides them into four departments called the Four Prefectures, Sifu 四府, which include the Prefectures of Heaven, Earth, and Water together with the World of the Living, Yangjian 陽間.30 Indeed, the instructions for the inner prac-tices carried out by the high priest during this rite of entrance, found in his personal secret manual, clearly prescribe that during this rite he should inwardly address the Four Prefectures. While facing the tables in the east and in the west, behind which the scrolls representing the officials are hung, he inwardly pronounces an incanta-tion to the Four Prefectures, Sifu, commanding that the “golden lads and jade

29 The scroll reproduced here is normally placed at the center of the group on the eastern wall.

It shows the Officials of Heaven, Tianguan 天官, who are turned toward the supreme Daoist gods placed against the northern wall, and who illustrate the theme of subordinate deities “having an audience with the Prime,” chaoyuan 朝元 (see below).

30 In Figure 6 the priests are seen facing the eastern wall and the scrolls representing the Prefec-ture of Heaven to the left (see Figure 3), with the Prefecture of Earth, Difu 地府, next to it. The figure to the far right is Zhang Daoling, the first Celestial Master and the main patriarch of the civil traditions of Daoist ritual. To his right, the guardians of the sacred area are represented by Marshal Zhao, Zhao yuanshuai 趙元帥. This is where the scroll representing Zhuyi will normally be hung, with two other guardians next to it, but space being limited at the event in Jiali, the group of guardians was reduced to just two scrolls. The counterpart displayed on the western wall was Marshal Kang, Kang yuanshuai 康元帥. These two mar-shals represent the minimal set of guardians, and their placement normally is the reverse of what was the case in Jiali.

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lasses,” jintong yunü 金童玉女 (who attend to the incense), will convey the sin-cerity of his heart to the Three Heavens above (Figure 8).31

Chen Rongsheng will follow these precise instructions regardless of the way in which the officals are represented on the walls, that is, no matter which of the two very different iconographic traditions is adopted for the occasion. Moreover, as is clear from the wording of the text, his attention during the performance of this in-ner practice is directed toward the heavens above rather than toward the images in front of him. I find it hard to reconcile these facts with the notion that at this point the high priest might be said to be engaged in the “worship of images” in the sense of an immediate address of the gods as present in their depictions in the scrolls that constitute the sacred area. Many other aspects of Chen Rongsheng’s practice count against this notion, notably, the many discrepancies between the representations of the gods in the form of ritual “statements,” zhuangwen 狀文, and their portrayals in the ritual scrolls. The statements are ritual documents that are placed in yellow envelopes behind the altar tables in the sacred area, serving as invitations to the gods. They mark the seats of the deities, shenwei 神位, invited for the event, and their structure and content clearly are more closely correlated with the actual prac-tice prescribed in the ritual manuals than are the representations of the gods in the ritual scrolls.

It is interesting to notice that the exact same rite as the one discussed above is also the one referred to by Paul Katz in his discussion of the ritual functions of the murals of the Yongle gong, as part of his argument to the effect that during per-formances of ritual in the temple, the images in these murals were treated as “ob-jects of worship”. He quotes the Song dynasty ritual compendium Wushang huanglu dazhai licheng yi 無上黃籙大齋立成儀, which states about this circumambulation of the altar and presentation of incense that the priests “next make one round of the jiao altar and offer incense standing in the proper order” (次旋醮壇行香一周依班序立).32 However, in his rendering of this phrase, Katz omits the last character, li, thus arriving at the interpretation that the master of rites is instructed to “circulate around the altar, making offerings of incense in the proper order.”33 He continues by stating that this indicates that “there was a prescribed sequence according to which Taoist priests were required to make offerings to the

31 Figure 8 shows the two pages in the Chen family secret manual which give instructions for

these inner incantations. They are copied here from a manuscript in the hand of Chen Tinghong 陳廷鋐 (1838–1908), a grandson of 陳紅 (1789–1829), who was from a family of Daoist priests in present-day Longxi 龍溪 County in Zhangzhou 漳州, Fujian, and who crossed over to Taiwan toward the end of the Qianlong 乾隆 era (i.e., around 1795). The title of the manuscript is Longhu shan laozu zhengyi tianshi Zhang zhenren yujue 龍虎山老祖正乙天師張真人玉訣, and the text is identical to that of Chen Rongsheng’s personal secret manual.

32 Daozang 508:37.19b. 33 Katz 1999: 147.


deities worshiped during ritual,” and he offers this as evidence in support of the idea that the works of art on the walls of the Yongle gong “were not merely decor-ative but were also the objects of offerings during Taoist rituals performed at the Palace of eternal Joy.” The problem with this is that, while the priests obviously present incense to the gods in a certain ranking order, the circumambulation of the altar as described in the Wushang huanglu dazhai licheng yi and performed still today, is carried out in a straightforward clockwise manner, which in no way cor-responds to the ranking order of the gods as represented on the walls. Indeed, as appears from the reproductions of the murals in the Yongle gong, the arrangement of the gods on the walls of the temple is much more complicated than that (Figure 9).34

The composition of the murals on these walls clearly confirms the dominant role of the “audience” or “procession metaphor” and contradicts the possibility that the ranking order of the deities on such walls might be traced through a simple circular movement.35 It may be concluded that the notion of Daoist images being treated as “objects of worship” is not borne out by the materials discussed in this article – all depending, of course, on what one means by this term. In fact, I rather symphathize with the reinterpretation offered by Craig Clunas, in which he sum-marizes Paul Katz’ suggestions in the following way:36

“Much early religious wall painting was expected not to be looked at, but to do something. As Paul Katz has shown with regard to one of the best-pre-served and consequently best-studied of such programs, … murals in a Dao-ist or Buddhist temple were not there for decoration nor simply to inspire devotion on the part of the worshipper. Rather they were themselves an es-sential part of the rituals performed in those spaces. It was their iconography, not their style or the fame of the artist who painted them, that was from the point of view of religious practice absolutely central to their function. They were pictures that were for something, pictures placed on permanent view in public spaces and carrying shared public meanings. It was this that was to make them increasingly problematic in the eyes of the élite by at the very latest the seventeenth century, even if the piety of that élite was undimmed.”

34 Figure 9 shows the central segment of the mural on the eastern wall of the Yongle gong,

which portrays two of the rulers of the universe, apparently Dong wanggong 東王公 and Xi wangwu 西王母, surrounded by a host of subordinate deities, and in the process of having an audience with the supreme gods of Daoism, that is, the Three Pure Ones, Sanqing 三清. See Jin Weinuo 金維諾 1997.

35 As indicated above, the same metaphor applies to the arrangement of ritual scrolls in Chen Rongsheng’s sacred area. Historically, temple murals precede these ritual scrolls, and there is a way in which the latter may be thought of as “movable murals.”

36 Clunas 1997: 28–29.

Poul Andersen 548

Following Clunas, we may conclude that the images were an essential part of the rituals, that they were there for something, and that they carried shared public meanings. Whether they were also treated as divine presences, however, is a differ-ent matter entirely.


Figure 1: Red Robe, Zhuyi 朱衣, painted by Su Qingyuan 蘇慶元, (Jiayi, Taiwan, c. 1976. Source: Collection of Chen Rongsheng, Tainan.

Poul Andersen 550

Figure 2: Red Robe and Golden Armor, Jinjia 金甲. Source: Henry Doré, S.J. Researches into Chinese Superstitions, vol. 6 (Shanghai: T’usewei Printing Press, 1920), p. 67.


Figure 3: Prefecture of Heaven, Tianfu

天府, painted by Pan Lishui 潘麗水 (1914-95), Tainan. Source: Collection of Chen Rongsheng, Tainan.

Figure 4: The Red-Robed Perfected, Zhuyi zhenren 朱衣真人, who emerges from the heart of the high priest at the be-ginning of his inner journey to heaven. Source: Daozang biyao 道藏秘要, Secret Essentials of the Daoist Canon (no pagination). Collection of Zeng Chunshou 曾春壽 (1913-92), Tainan.

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Figures 5-6: The rite of “entering the door,” Ruhu 入戶, during the performance of the Morning Audience, Zaochao 早朝, on the third day of a five-day jiao in Jintang dian 金唐殿, Jiali, Taiwan, February 1987. Photos by the author.


Figure 7: Officials of Heaven, Tianguan 天官 (Ming dynasty). Source: Collection of Chen Rongsheng, Tainan.

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Figure 8: Two pages from the Chen family secret manual, Longhu shan laozu zhengyi tianshi Zhang zhenren yujue 龍虎山老祖正乙天師張真人玉訣, as copied by Chen Tinghong 陳廷鋐 (1838-1908), Tainan.

Figure 9: Segment of the eastern wall of the Palace of Eternal Joy, Yongle gong 永樂宮, north of the Yellow River in southern Shanxi province (first half of the fourteenth century). Source: Jin Weinuo 金維諾, ed., Yongle gong bihua quanji 永樂宮壁畫全集 (Tianjin: Renmin meishu chubanshe, 1997).


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The Life of Images in Daoist Ritual

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