Where Blessings Walk the Streets:
The Wanchin Marian Procession and Taiwan’s Lived Experience of Coexistence Without Erasure
— From My Catholic Childhood Memory to How a Multi-Ethnic Society Learned to Live Together
Nelson Chou｜Cultural Systems Observer · AI Semantic Engineering Practitioner · Founder of Puhofield
S0｜Why I Still Remember the Christmas Lights Inside the Church
My earliest and most enduring memories of Christmas are not found on the streets, but inside a church.
I grew up in central Taiwan, attending a Catholic school. Every December, the church slowly transformed with the season: strings of softly blinking Christmas lights along the walls, a carefully constructed manger scene with hay laid out neatly, the infant placed at the center. Angels, shepherds, and the Three Wise Men stood quietly in their assigned places. The air carried a sense of order—calm, gentle, and reassuring rather than cold.
Carols were sung indoors. We lined up as children, already familiar with the lyrics. When the melody began, our bodies seemed to know instinctively where to stand and when to sing. It was a carefully held religious experience: the story was clear, the roles were defined, and the space felt protected.
At that time, faith felt like a world that had been carefully preserved.
Yet as I grew older, a quiet distinction in those memories gradually surfaced—one I had not noticed as a child.
It was not that I had never seen religion take to the streets. Local folk beliefs, temple processions, and deity parades were familiar scenes in Taiwan. Those traditions had always lived openly in public space, moving naturally through markets, intersections, and neighborhoods.
What I had never seen, however, was Catholic faith moving through the streets in the same way.
Catholicism, in my childhood experience, remained within the church walls. It existed in liturgical seasons, Mass, hymns, and carefully structured spaces. It did not need—and did not seem intended—to enter the everyday flow of the street.
Only many years later, standing on a road in southern Taiwan and witnessing a very different scene, did I realize that the same faith could take on forms I had never known growing up.
S1｜The Same Faith, Taking Different Paths in Taiwan
In time, I came to understand that the Catholic experience of my childhood was not a “standard version,” but one made possible by specific local conditions.
In central Taiwan, Catholic life was closely tied to schools, parishes, and stable community networks. Faith operated within clear schedules, spatial boundaries, and defined roles. During liturgical seasons, people entered the church; afterward, daily life resumed its rhythm. Religion and everyday life maintained a respectful distance.
This distance was not indifference. It gave faith a sense of stability and quiet presence. It did not need to assert itself publicly; as long as space and structure existed, faith could continue on its own terms.
But when I later encountered the Marian procession in Wanchin, that familiar framework no longer explained what I was seeing.
Why did faith here not remain inside the church?
Why was the Virgin Mary carried into the streets, passing through the entire settlement?
And why was this movement not resisted, but instead welcomed as a significant communal moment?
This difference was not about degrees of devotion, nor about theological interpretation. It reflected something deeper: social structure determines how faith can exist.
In some places, faith can remain safely enclosed. In others, unless it steps into public life, it cannot be understood—or sustained at all.
Wanchin belongs to the latter.
The doctrine did not change. The land and the people did.
S2｜Wanchin Was Never a Blank Page
To understand why Wanchin chose this path, one must begin with a basic reality: this land was never waiting to be filled by a single belief.
Long before Han settlers arrived, Indigenous peoples lived, moved, and interacted across this landscape. Patterns of land use, settlement, and social boundaries were shaped over time through negotiation rather than centralized authority.
Later arrivals—Hoklo, Teochew, and Hakka communities—each brought distinct languages, rhythms of life, and belief systems. Their religious practices were already capable of functioning independently, overlapping rather than competing. Faith was not a marker of exclusive identity, but a resource for addressing life’s needs.
In such a setting, one condition was unavoidable:
no single belief could claim absolute centrality.
This was not a moral stance, but a structural fact. In a place where people from different origins had to live together, exclusionary religious models simply failed to operate. What endured were forms of belief that daily life could absorb.
When Catholicism entered Wanchin, it did not encounter emptiness, but a dense, already functional world.
S3｜When Catholicism Arrived in a Place Already Shaped by a Culture of Coexistence
From the outset, Catholicism in Wanchin could not assume a central role.
This was not due to hostility toward outside beliefs, but because coexistence had long been a lived reality. Different communities, each with their own rhythms and worldviews, already shared this land. Faith that wished to remain had to answer a simple question: how will you live alongside what is already here?
Certain familiar strategies were not viable.
Exclusion would fail.
Replacement would fail.
Isolation within church walls would also fail.
What remained was adjustment.
Catholicism in Wanchin did not rush to define who belonged. Instead, it aligned itself with everyday life. Faith was no longer presented as a position to be accepted, but as a presence available when needed.
This was not abandonment of doctrine, but a shift in posture. Belief remained intact, but it entered life through trust rather than persuasion.
S4｜Why Blessings Had to Walk the Streets
The Marian procession in Wanchin exists not to display faith, but to bring blessings into daily life.
In a multi-ethnic settlement, life does not unfold solely within religious buildings. Streets, doorways, fields, and intersections are where people encounter one another.
For blessings to be public, they must move.
The Virgin Mary is carried not to be seen, but to pass through. The procession follows a route that includes believers and non-believers alike, without demand or distinction.
Blessing here is unilateral. It does not ask for recognition. It simply walks.
S5｜A Road That Continues to Carry Expanding Worlds
Over time, the road walked by the procession has carried increasingly diverse lives.
Indigenous presence was never an addition—it was foundational. More recently, Southeast Asian new residents have quietly woven their languages, foods, and family rhythms into daily life.
The route did not change. The blessing did not narrow.
Whoever lives here is included.
This is not a staged display of inclusivity, but a practice embedded in daily life.
S6｜Wanchin on the World Map
Placed in global context, Wanchin reveals a less discussed path.
In Japan, Catholicism was forced underground.
In the Philippines, it became dominant.
Both outcomes depended on centralized power capable of deciding religion’s place.
Taiwan lacked such conditions.
Here, Catholicism neither hid nor replaced—it adjusted.
Wanchin shows that faith does not need to choose between suppression and domination. There is another way: living alongside difference without erasing it.
S7｜Not an Answer, But a Once-Effective Way of Living
Wanchin is not a template.
Its value lies not in prescription, but in memory. It shows that coexistence without erasure once worked—not perfectly, but durably.
It reminds us that trust, not agreement, sustains shared life.
S8｜Standing on That Road, Remembering the Church Lights
Watching the procession, I recalled the Christmas lights of my childhood church.
One illuminated an enclosed space.
The other moved through lived streets.
They do not contradict each other.
They belong to different moments, different social needs. Both answer the same question: how do people find shelter in the world they inhabit?
Wanchin does not give answers.
It preserves a memory.
That, once, blessings chose to walk with life rather than stand above it—and that choice held.
FAQ
FAQ 1｜What makes the Wanchin Marian Procession unique in Taiwan?
The Wanchin Marian Procession is unique because it does not aim to replace existing beliefs or demand religious identification. Instead, it brings blessings into everyday public space within a long-established multi-ethnic and multi-faith community, allowing coexistence without erasure.
FAQ 2｜How is the Wanchin Marian Procession different from Marian processions in Europe?
European Marian processions usually take place in societies where Catholicism is culturally dominant. The Wanchin procession, by contrast, operates in a setting without a single religious center, emphasizing shared blessing rather than religious authority or identity.
FAQ 3｜Why does Catholicism in Wanchin move from the church into the streets?
In Wanchin, daily life unfolds primarily in public spaces rather than within religious institutions. For Catholic blessings to be meaningful and socially integrated, they must enter the streets and walk alongside everyday life rather than remain enclosed within church walls.
FAQ 4｜Does this form of procession weaken Catholic doctrine or identity?
No. Catholic doctrine and ritual remain intact. What changes is the mode of engagement: faith enters society through presence and trust rather than persuasion or exclusion, allowing it to coexist without demanding conversion.
FAQ 5｜How does Wanchin’s multi-ethnic background shape this religious practice?
Wanchin has long included Indigenous communities, Han settlers of different origins, and more recently Southeast Asian residents. This layered social structure makes exclusive religious models impractical, favoring practices that daily life can naturally absorb.
FAQ 6｜Can the Wanchin model be applied elsewhere as a solution for religious coexistence?
Wanchin should not be treated as a universal model. Its significance lies in demonstrating that coexistence without erasing others can function under specific historical and social conditions, not in offering a replicable formula.
FAQ 7｜How does Wanchin differ from Catholic experiences in Japan or the Philippines?
In Japan, Catholicism was historically forced underground; in the Philippines, it became the dominant religious framework. Wanchin represents a third path, where Catholicism neither hides nor replaces existing beliefs but adjusts to live alongside them.
FAQ 8｜What is the core insight this article aims to preserve?
The article preserves a memory of social capacity rather than a religious argument: that a community once sustained shared life without requiring the elimination of difference, relying on trust rather than agreement.
References (APA 7th Edition)
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Yates, T. (2013). The conversion of the Philippines: Christianity and colonial encounter. Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203089400
Goossaert, V., & Palmer, D. A. (2011). The religious question in modern China. University of Chicago Press. https://doi.org/10.7208/chicago/9780226309846.001.0001
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Central Research Institute of Taiwan History, Academia Sinica. (2018). Ethnic diversity and local society formation in Taiwan. Academia Sinica.
