A Woman’s History: A Lifetime of Practising Yiguandao—The Senior Leader of the Subdivision Baoguang Chongzheng

Abstract

This paper examines a female Yiguandao (一貫道) leader’s lifelong history of practising the faith: Huang Shih-Yen (黃世妍, 1940–), the Elder (qianren 前人) of the subdivision Baoguang Chongzheng (寶光崇正). The journey begins with her conversion to Yiguandao and devotion to its religious practices, followed by her assuming leadership of a subdivision and expanding overseas proselytising missions. Female leaders are not uncommon in modern and contemporary Yiguandao; however, Huang presents a different image from that of conventional female leadership in popular Chinese religions. First, unlike most female leaders who refuse marriage, Huang is a wife and mother; she has shouldered both sacred and secular duties. Second, when she gained leadership, her husband, who was also an Elder of Baoguang Chongzheng, followed and assisted her in managing the temple affairs. Third, she was personally and actively involved in missionary outreach rather than being a spiritual mentor. The materials used to investigate Huang’s life history were predominantly oral history and my own participant observations. This paper illustrates that women’s contributions to religious practices may be on par with their male counterparts, but their stories have been overlooked.

1. Introduction

In the modern times of religious development, women’s roles have become increasingly important. One reason is that there have been more female religious participants than male ones in many societies; another is that such female participants have been challenging traditions and creating new possibilities within previously male-dominated religious environments (Kang 2015, 2017; Lehman 1993; Miller and Hoffmann 1995; Ozorak 1996; Valussi 2019). However, even in Western societies, where feminist ascendancy has been increasing, the lives of religious women and the importance of their religious roles have continued to be overlooked (King 2004; Ozorak 1996; Slee 2004). This is also the case with Chinese religions, where women have played a pivotal role in making Chinese modernity despite always having been a more silent and disadvantaged group (Kang 2015, 2017; Overmyer 1991; Palmer et al. 2011). As Chinese women’s religious participation has increased, discussion of their faith practices should correspondingly increase.

The study of women in Chinese religions is a relatively recent development. Various scholars have been involved in this; among their works, the majority have comprised observations about Chinese Buddhism and Daoism (Despeux 2005; Grant 2008; Ho 2009; Huang 2009; Jia 2014; Kang 2015, 2017; Li 1999, 2015; Lu 2000; Valussi 2019; Yü 2013; Zhan 2010). Scholars who have researched women in popular religions have noticed that female status tends to be higher in these religions—meaning that a higher degree of gender equality exists—compared to other Chinese religions. Many female believers used to be from the underprivileged class in secular society (e.g., widows, unmarried female workers and concubines); however, the openness of popular religions allowed them to obtain self-achievement in the public domain and to inherit the assets and legacy of the religious organisations. However, this phenomenon whereby women could join the popular sects and have influence in their communities has been regarded as undermining orthodox Confucianism, Buddhist celibacy and patriarchal tradition. Consequently, this led to stigmatisation, accusations of heresy and persecution of these women by officials and gentry during late imperial and Republican periods (Hung 1994; Overmyer 1991, pp. 108–9; Teng 1990; Zhou 2003). This situation demonstrates that women had to regulate tension with traditional patriarchy while creating their own social space. It also indicates that the practices of popular religions have become an alternative route to Chinese women’s emancipation.

In view of the scarcity of research on women’s practice in Chinese popular religions, this article presents the life history of a female leader, Huang Shih-Yen (黃世妍, 1940–), who has a great influence on the Yiguandao community Baoguang Chongzheng (寶光崇正). In Yiguandao, gender is often not a consideration concerning promotion to the clergy; rather, the relevant criteria are virtues, devotion and ability (Shen 2016). When women are assigned to the clergy—as Transmitting Master (dianchuanshi 點傳師)1—they are held in the same high esteem as men (Billioud 2020). The highest basis upon which one is venerated is to be entrusted with the Heavenly Decree (tianming 天命),2 which is believed to be the authorised grace of Heaven and also concerns whether one can lead all beings to sainthood (Wang 2011). A Transmitting Master is the cleric who carries the Heavenly Decree.

Paul Steven Sangren has posited that in Chinese religions, to remain chaste and unmarried yet still exhibit transcendent maternity is the way for women to manifest the holy; in this way, a woman may embody the mother of all people (Sangren 1983). More recent case studies have tended to focus on those who resist marriage and how they seize autonomy to practice their faith, thus freeing themselves from the constraints of conventional social roles; scholars have linked this to modern feminism (Kang 2017, p. 11; Lee 2008; McCaffrey 2021; Show 2020). In contrast with others in this context, the focus of this article, Huang Shih-Yen, did not choose to refuse marriage. Instead, her devotion and capability fuelled her empowerment in her faith while also taking on the responsibilities within her marital family and business.

When modernisation started in China, the notion of “new women” (xin nvxing 新女性) emerged in response to societal anticipation. As defined in modern China, “new women” were expected to possess rationality and independence of thought, while simultaneously “fulfilling the roles of good wife and wise mother as the suitable companion for the modern man.” (Kang 2017, p. 6) The category of “new women” is contrasted with traditional women, who were less educated and not independent-minded. Nevertheless, it presents an inherent contradiction, as it expects women to be independent in the public domain while remaining reliant on men in the private domain. From the perspective of religious women and their contributions to shaping Chinese modernity, the public–private distinction needs to be questioned. In the examination of gender roles in Europe and North America, Ruth Rubio-Marín found that the societal understanding of two separate domains—the public and the private—shaped by the societal norms and values contributed to the establishment of gender roles. This understanding, rooted in patriarchal values, defined the public sphere in masculine terms and the private sphere in feminine terms. Thus, it led to the dichotomy of progressive feminists versus conservative housewives (Rubio-Marín 2015). The dichotomy aligns with the notion of “new women” in Chinese society. However, on the premise that cultural modernity entails egalitarian principles of gender (Phillips 2018), resisting marriage and family-building should not be the only way for religious women to obtain freedom. They should also be able to be active in religious ministry and become empowered in the public sphere while managing their families, like their male counterparts.

In the genealogy of Yiguandao’s patriarchs (zushi 祖師), there is one female: Sun Huiming (孫慧明, 1895–1975). Sun was ordained as the eighteenth patriarch together with Zhang Tianran (張天然, 1889–1947); she was also the last in the genealogy. Her matriarchship has been believed to symbolise the rise in female status, whether in the secular domain or the Yiguandao community (Shen 2016; Sung 2020, p. 126; Yang 2003, pp. 265–66).3 In mainland China, during the period before 1949, apart from Sun Huiming, the majority of senior leaders were male. This prevailed until female leaders began to emerge in Taiwan. These women came to prominence after the 1960s, a time when female consciousness was in full swing in the West but only just emerging in Taiwan. At that time, it was difficult for Taiwan’s women to gain voices and leadership. Most of the Yiguandao female leaders from mainland China were celibate throughout their lives or came to Taiwan alone without a husband and children. Among them were Chen Hong-Zhen (陳鴻珍, 1923–2008) of Fayi Chongde (發一崇德), Li Yu-Ming (李鈺銘, 1912–1983) of Fayi Lingyin (發一靈隱), Zhang Yu-Tai (張玉台, 1910–1990) of Fayi Tianyuan (發一天元), Su Xiu-Lan (蘇秀蘭, ?–1959) of Baoguang Yushan (寶光玉山), Chen Yao-Ju (陳耀菊, 1915–1991), Liang Chun-Hua (梁春華, 1928–1996) of Haoran Yude (浩然育德) and Liu Han-Qing (劉漢卿, 1926–) of Tianzhen Zongtan (天真總壇; Sung 2020, pp. 132–36, 141–78).4 Huang Shih-Yen is a native Taiwanese and part of the second generation of leaders in Taiwan’s Yiguandao, while the aforementioned female leaders were predominantly of the first generation. Huang first became a Transmitting Master in Yiguandao before becoming the pivotal leader of the subdivision Baoguang Chongzheng after her predecessor passed away. Her case illustrates a different paradigm of women’s practice; she was married, a mother of three, and involved in overseas missionary work alongside planning for the prospects of a Yiguandao community. The empowerment that she experienced on her journey of faith was closely connected to two pivotal male characters: her husband and her mentor, who elevated her. Thus, this article analyses Huang’s case exemplifying the breakthrough of the public–private distinction and her interactions with these two male figures within the social and cultural context of her time.

This article primarily draws on interviews with devotees who were close to Huang Shih-Yen and my own participant observations; thus, any information presented without citation is the result of fieldwork. To protect interviewees, they have been kept anonymous unless attribution was necessary. In terms of secondary materials, I have also made reference to two unpublished Master’s theses, one on Huang by Weng Shih-Hsiu (翁世琇), and one on Huang’s husband, Chen San-Long, by Hung Chine-Chun (洪千淳).

2. Background: Huang Shih-Yen and Her Yiguandao Community

2.1. Early Life

Born in 1940 in Changhua County, Central Taiwan, Huang Shih-Yen grew up in a deprived family. She was the fourth of 10 siblings, several of whom died prematurely due to poor medical care. Her father had been in poor health since she was little, and her mother had to care for the entire family. Accordingly, Huang had to help around the house, looked after her younger sisters and brothers and engaged in street hawking after school to help supplement the family’s livelihood (from the age of seven). After graduating from primary school, she was unable to continue her studies and had to work to support her family.5

The difficulties in Huang’s life encouraged her to seek out religious cultivation from a young age. She was told by a girlfriend that ‘our destined fate can be changed after we seek the Dao (qiudao 求道)’; as a result, she was introduced to Yiguandao when she was 16. In 1958, Huang’s whole family moved to Taichung; from then on, she began to attend sermons in the Buddha Hall (fotang 佛堂).6 She took the oath to become a lifelong vegetarian in 1959 and soon began working as an assistant cook at the Golden Taiwan Vegetarian Restaurant (jintaiwan sushiguan 金臺灣素食館) in Taichung, followed by learning to become a chef and laying the foundations for operating a business. She wanted to improve her family’s financial situation; thus, she opened her own vegetarian restaurant in Taipei when she was only 20 (Weng 2018, pp. 34–37). Within the social context of the time, this was a brave act. Although Taiwan’s economy began to thrive in the 1960s and labour was in high demand, the labour participation rate for women generally was still lower than 40 per cent of total labour participation in the late 1970s (Li and Yang 2004, p. 111). Further, most female labourers were young and unmarried workers in factories; self-employed women were atypical.7 In the conservative and closed Taiwanese society of the 1960s and 1970s, it was not easy for women to start their own businesses, let alone leave a familiar location and move to a new environment. Unfortunately for Huang, it was difficult to run a vegetarian restaurant because Taiwan’s vegetarian population was still small in the 1960s. Therefore, after the closure of her restaurant, Huang moved back to Taichung and worked at a timber shop, the owner of which was a Yiguandao Transmitting Master. Upstairs in the timber shop was a Buddha Hall where Huang could continue learning the teachings; there, she met her future husband, Lin San-Long (林三龍, 1940–1997). Together with several young devotees, Huang often travelled around on bicycles to promote Yiguandao after work; she was one of the few females among this group.8

In 1964, at the age of 24, Huang got married. She and her husband were devout believers in Yiguandao and also vegetarians. At that time, vegetarianism in Taiwan was typically related to monasticism and social nonconformity (Broy 2019, pp. 53–56; Sung 2020, p. 136). Due to the strong emphasis on family harmony in Chinese culture, diet is seen as an important part of expressing familial joy. When individuals become vegetarians, their dietary difference may attract attention and lead to speculation among other family members about their potential interest in monastic life. Consequently, vegetarianism is perceived as a disruption to family harmony. Therefore, the couple was not accepted by their families and were expelled from Lin’s home. They had no choice but to stay in a shabby bungalow in Taichung, which they used as their home as well as a simple factory. They borrowed money from a bank and relatives to buy second-hand machines and started a sewing-machine-component-manufacturing business from scratch; this was a technique that Lin had learned in a needle carriage factory in his teens. The 1970s was the golden age of Taiwan’s textile industry; at the time, textile exports were the most important source of foreign exchange (Yao 2011, pp. 44–46). As a result, there was a substantial demand for sewing machines, and Lin San-Long’s business was aligned with this trend. In the meantime, they were also raising three young children, and their preaching work at the Buddha Hall never ceased. They struggled financially at the outset, having just started their own business and needing to take care of their children. However, they still shouldered the responsibility of managing a Buddha Hall, the Zhonghe Tang (中和堂), in Taichung, which was set up by Lin and his fellow devotees before he got married (Hung 2020, pp. 22–24; Lin 2015, p. 120; Weng 2018, pp. 37–40). Through managing Zhonghe Tang, Huang Shih-Yen gradually became the leader of her subdivision, Baoguang Chongzheng (寶光崇正); this was an occurrence that she had never anticipated (I will discuss this later in the article).

2.2. The Origin of Yiguandao’s Subdivision: Baoguang Chongzheng

Before discussing Huang Shih-Yen’s empowerment, it is necessary to mention the origin of the subdivision to which she belongs. The Baoguang Chongzheng subdivision originated from a Buddha Hall in Shanghai, Baoguang Tan (寶光壇), in the 1940s. Baoguang Tan was founded in 1940 by Xing Jie-San (邢傑三, ?–?), who came to Shanghai from Tianjin and afterwards moved to Hankou to start new missionary work; Pan Hua-Ling (潘華齡, 1888–1953) took over the management of Baoguang Tan. Pan was an outstanding leader, and Baoguang Tan’s proselytising activities thrived (Sung 2020, p. 131).9 Shanghai was such a crucial port and trading hub city that people from all over China gathered there to find opportunities for themselves. At that time, some of the followers in Baoguang Tan were successful merchants and dignitaries; Chen Wen-Xiang (陳文祥, 1906–1988), who later became Huang Shih-Yen’s immediate mentor, was one of them.

Chen Wen-Xiang was born in Kaohsiung, Taiwan, during the Japanese colonial period. He went to Japan to study medicine in 1927, once stating that “while studying in Japan, (I) felt discontent with the Japanese subjugation of Taiwan (在日本求學時,感到臺灣被日本奴化之不滿)” (Lin 2015, p. 34). Thus, after graduating in 1933, instead of returning to Taiwan, he moved to Shanghai to be a physician (Lin 2015, pp. 33–6; Sung 2020, p. 184). In the early years of the Republican period, many Chinese people had severe problems with opium addiction. Chen developed the seven-day opium withdrawal method to help people recover from opium more quickly.10 Some officials and businessmen benefited from his treatment; hence, he became well-connected within the elite community. He was invited to be initiated into Yiguandao in Nanjing in 1942. After returning to Shanghai, he was introduced to Pan Hua-Ling. Chen immediately devoted himself to preaching the Dao at Baoguang Tan; soon after, in 1943, he was ordained as a Transmitting Master. At the end of the Second World War and following the retreat of the Japanese Government from Taiwan, Pan informed Chen that the leading patriarch, Zhang Tianran, had urged devotees to go abroad and propagate the Dao. Chen soon made his own decision to return to Taiwan to take on this mission. Pan led Chen to Zhang Tianran to pledge his determination to spread the Dao in Taiwan. Consequently, Chen became the first missionary who carried Yiguandao to Taiwan in 1945 (Lin 2002; Lin 2015).11

After the Kuomintang (國民黨; KMT) Government shifted to Taiwan in 1949, martial law was imposed, and assemblies and associations were subject to high levels of control. Under the government’s rigid monitoring, Yiguandao’s proselytising activities could only be conducted in secret. It was not until 1988 that the Yiguandao General Association of the R. O. C. (R.O.C. refers to Republic of China; zhonghua minguo yiguandao zonghui 中華民國一貫道總會) was permitted to be established in Taiwan. Prior to this, there were no distinct divisions (zuxian 組線) in mainland China. Consequently, devotees used to express their affiliations with the Buddha Halls they attended. When joining the General Association, some of the senior missionaries in Taiwan chose the name of their public Buddha Hall in mainland China as the first half of the name of their division to honour their origins—for instance, Baoguang division (baoguang zu 寶光組), Jichu division (jichu zu 基礎組), Haoran division (haoran zu 浩然組) and so forth—and the name of the public Buddha Hall in Taiwan as the second half to show their roots. The distinguishing names represent respective divisions. Hence, Chen Wen-Xiang joined the Yiguandao General Association of the R.O.C. under the name ‘Baoguang Chongzheng’ because he came from the Baoguang Tan in Shanghai and the Chongzheng Buddha Hall (chongzheng baogong 崇正寶宮) in Taichung was the mother hall of the subdivision (Weng 2018).

As mentioned earlier, during the period of martial law, the development of Yiguandao was banned; further, the government even ordered the disbandment of Yiguandao in 1963 (Sung 2020, p. 137). Some domestic altars (jiating fotang 家庭佛堂) were reported and confiscated during followers’ gatherings; consequently, it was not uncommon for followers to lose contact with the original altar they had attended. This was the case with Huang Shih-Yen. She first joined Yiguandao in 1957 and lost contact with her first Transmitting Master, Huang Zi-Ran (黃自然), who eventually became the senior Elder of the subdivision Jichu Tianji (基礎天基). Later, Huang was introduced to Chen Wen-Xiang after she terminated the operation of her vegetarian restaurant in Taipei. Thereupon, Huang followed Chen’s mentoring in practising Yiguandao.

3. Embracing Empowerment: Bridging the Public–Private Spheres

3.1. Becoming a Leader

Chen Wen-Xiang’s early proselytising years were fruitful; subsequently, many missionaries also came to Taiwan one after another in 1946–1950. Thus, the Yiguandao community needed a coordinating leader. Chen was elected by other missionaries and appointed by Sun Huiming as the coordinating leader of Taiwan’s Yiguandao community, known as Shuniu (樞紐, the Pivot; Lin 2015, pp. 47–52, 86–88). “Shuniu” literally means the pivots on a door or a hub of confluence; here, the appellation symbolises the hub of the network of missionaries’ contacts. Chen was the Senior Elder of Baoguang Chongzheng, as well as the Shuniu of the Yiguandao communities in Taiwan. As the top leader, Chen was the focus of the authorities’ attention. He was not only detained 100 times and received the longest custodial period of his contemporaries but also endured torture in detention. However, these ordeals did not detract from his determination to spread the faith; unfortunately, he was unable to realise his aspiration. Huang Shih-Yen and Lin San-Long understood what Chen Wen-Xiang had suffered and fully supported his mission and followed his guidance (Hsu 2013, pp. 46–47, 64; Lin 2015, pp. 71–72, 88–91).

Due to financial factors, the Zhonghe Tang relocated 11 times (Hung 2020, p. 23; Lin 2015, pp. 118–19). With a gradual increase in followers, they continued moving and rented bigger venues for it. Despite this, Huang and Lin were not financially stable; they still had to borrow money to cover the rent. Zhonghe Tang was significant to Chen Wen-Xiang because he had been under strict surveillance by the KMT authority since 1948 and was unable to disseminate Yiguandao. Those early Buddha Halls in Taiwan established by Chen were later assigned to other missionaries (who also came from the Baoguang Tan) by Pan Hua-Ling. Zhonghe Tan was regarded as the starting point for Chen after all his ordeals.12 On every first and 15th day of the Chinese lunar months, followers would come to the Zhonghe Tang for prayer. At every gathering at Zhonghe Tang, Huang was a warm host—like a big sister or mother—caring for the newcomers and cooking and offering rich and delicious vegetarian cuisine. After dinner, they would have a lecture on the teachings; the lecturers were typically Chen Wen-Xiang, a couple of Transmitting Masters ordained by Chen, or Lin and Huang themselves. Several of the new followers were young people from other parts of Taiwan who were studying or looking for jobs in Taichung. Huang invited them to stay temporarily in the Zhonghe Tang and provided three meals a day out of her own pocket so that they could concentrate on their studies and job search. According to an informant who once stayed in the Zhonghe Tang, “they (Huang and Lin) knew we were still young and did not have much money, so they were very generous and did not hesitate to offer food to others (他們知道我們年輕沒什麼錢,所以量大,不怕人家吃)”.13 The couple’s sincerity inspired these young people to follow them faithfully; later, they became the core cadre of Huang’s followers (Hung 2020, pp. 23–27; Lin 2015, pp. 118–19).

Both Huang and Lin were ordained as Transmitting Masters in 1974 (Lin 2015, p. 122). According to my fieldwork, if both husband and wife were devout followers in Yiguandao, they were rarely ordained together. Typically, in those days, the husband was ordained and the wife was not. This was because the wife often had to take care of the family, and it was not convenient for her to travel for proselytising activities. This differed from contemporary times where both the man and the woman of a given couple have equal opportunity to be ordained as Transmitting Master. Huang knew that she was being promoted; notably, Chen Wen-Xiang became both a mentor and a father to her. In return, Huang promised Chen that she would spare no effort to continue his mission as far as she could in her lifetime (Weng 2018, pp. 44–45). Under Chen’s mentorship, Huang laid good foundations for her future management of the Baoguang Chongzheng community. Chen and his wife had no children, and they wished Lin San-Long to become their adopted son. Hence, with the consent of Lin’s parents, Lin became Chen’s adopted son (minglingzi 螟蛉子) and changed his name to Chen San-Long (陳三龍) in 1976.14 Alongside the expansion of the Zhonghe Tang community, Huang Shih-Yen and Chen San-Long’s factory business was also booming, turning them into small- and medium-sized enterprise entrepreneurs. One of my informants explained that both of them were strong-minded, and they sometimes disagreed on the methods of managing the Buddha Hall. However, Chen considered his wife to be more decisive and more caring than himself; thus, he believed Huang to be a better leader and supported her to concentrate on proselytising activities while he took care of their business. Additionally, they both shared the responsibility of caring for their children. (See note 12).

In traditional Chinese society, there is a clear division of labour based on gender. The “domestic/private” (nei 內), refers to the domestic chores and education of children; conversely, the “exterior/public” (wai 外) sphere belongs to the males and refers to being responsible for economic activities and decision-making (Grove 2020; Lu and Yi 2005). Even with modernization occurring in China during the 1920s to 1940s and the advocacy of the concept of ‘new women,’ the division has remained. The situation has also been observed in religious activities. Women have primarily been responsible for the worship of deities and ancestors at home, and only men were allowed to perform the most formal and solemn rituals in the public. It used to be difficult for women to play a greater role outside their homes unless they became nuns and broke free of the social constraints of the secular world (Overmyer 1991; Palmer et al. 2011). Yiqun Zhou’s examination of spatial control and female religiosity in late Imperial China suggests that women’s participation in religious associations could raise concerns. These concerns are attributed to the significant expansion of their social networks and access to information upon joining these organizations, which leads to stronger external connections that could potentially impact their domestic relationships. The centre of spatial control is linked to the Confucian order—an order from the upper Confucian elites to the grassroots—that imposes submission on women (2003). Zhou’s analysis presents two aspects: firstly, women’s involvement in the religious field enables them to broaden their social connections and transcend the boundaries of the public and private spheres. Secondly, the patriarchal perspective is afraid of potential disruption to the “nei/wai” familial order, which might affect men’s opportunities for pursuing their own exterior development. To resonate with this, Elena Valussi explores the marginalization of women’s beliefs during the early Republican period, as religious women were often labelled as irrational, superstitious and backward. Accordingly, Chinese intellectuals tried to eliminate such beliefs for the sake of creating a new China. Such endeavours also included young “new women”—who were typically better educated and resided in cities— standing up to criticise rural women and advocating for the abandonment of their beliefs. This action prevented women from engaging in religious activities outside the home, leading them to bring their practices into the domestic sphere. As a result, the family became further stigmatised as a source of superstition. Hence, Valussi states that “gender is utilized as an indicator of possible societal change, but not of female empowerment.” (Valussi 2020, p. 118). The way in which women, particularly religious women, mediate tensions with patriarchal society goes beyond the public–private. Recently, Ruth Rubio-Marín has emphasised that patriarchal values are internalised within the social contract of modernity and influence gender dynamics (Rubio-Marín 2015). However, in Huang Shih-Yen’s case, this issue is distinct from traditional Chinese stereotypes surrounding the gendered division of labour. It is beyond the public–private distinction; rather, it is the domain of the sacred (sheng 聖), referring to religious or divine affairs, versus the mundane (fan 凡), referring to the ordinary life. The concept of the parallel cultivation of “sheng” and “fan” (聖凡雙修), meaning practice in the midst of worldly affairs, is a core concept in contemporary Yiguandao (Chung 2015). Engaging in both faith propagation and business operations falls within the realm of exterior affairs. Here, Huang broke away from the framework prescribing that the “female is responsible for domesticity (女主內)” and experienced the opportunity of self-accomplishment in the two exterior spheres.

Due to Chen San-Long’s support, Huang was able to follow and drive Chen Wen-Xiang everywhere around Taiwan to conduct proselytising activities. In the 1980s, the number of followers was growing rapidly, and the community needed a larger temple for use; accordingly, Huang and her husband decided to donate the nearly 3600 square feet of land they had initially bought for building a new factory to build a public Buddha Hall: the current Chongzheng Buddha Hall. There were 10 groups (danwei 單位) in the Baoguang Chongzheng before 1996; each group had an Elder under Chen Wen-Xiang, and Huang Shih-Yen was not the eldest in terms of age or seniority. In 1988, when Chen Wen-Xiang became bedridden, he mandated Huang to manage the Baoguang Chongzheng subdivision fully. One month later, Chen Wen-Xiang passed away, which deeply saddened Huang. After this, another situation arose that strongly affected Huang; the other Elders had a disagreement over her qualification regarding being the top leader. Consequently, the community was divided and reunited again over several years; until 1996, they were officially split up. Huang once mentioned that this was the most difficult time in her life (Hung 2020, pp. 38–43; Hsu 2013, pp. 41–43; Wang 2011, pp. 89–90). Fortunately, under these circumstances, her husband became her most important support. At the time, Huang chose not to respond to criticisms or disagreements regarding her being the top leader. When it was necessary to communicate with Elders from other groups, Chen San-Long always stepped forward for Huang. As my informant explained, ‘Elder Chen (San-Long) was fully committed to protecting and supporting the inheritor of the Heavenly Decree (陳前人全力護持天命的傳承者)’.15 At this point, it was not his wife that Chen was defending but the inheritor of the Heavenly Decree. Chen’s support for Huang in the realm of faith transcends the private sphere. Although the Heavenly Decree in Yiguandao is supposed to be absolutely respected, the notion of male superiority over females still existed in Taiwanese society in the 1990s. In the social context, women were criticised and discouraged from taking up employment, let alone reaching a higher status in a particular field than their husbands (Liu 2006). According to my informant, there were several cases where the wife was ordained as Transmitting Master, but the husband could not accept his lower rank and left the community. In this light, Chen’s actions in upholding the Heavenly Decree and honouring his wife were remarkable.

With the support of some new Transmitting Masters ordained by Chen Wen-Xiang before his passing, Huang Shih-Yen was soon able to move on. Some of those Masters and cadres were those young followers she once cared for at the Zhonghe Tang. She had planned and delegated part of the authority to the new Transmitting Masters to operate the proselytising activities, thus allowing for new developments. As Edward Lehman has mentioned, many female leaders seem to adopt the style of devolution of power because women are more inclined to bring more people together to accomplish tasks (Lehman 1993). In popular Chinese religions, women often formed their own small communities for cultivation; although they had opportunities to attain higher ranks, they could not assume the highest leadership positions. The Way of Former Heaven (xiantiandao 先天道) is one such instance (Hung 1994; Show 2017, 2020). However, in Yiguandao, it is possible for a female to assume the highest leadership position.16 Since Sun Huiming’s matriarchship, the top female leaders of each division emerged one after another. Huang stood out from her male peers and led a group of cadres, predominantly male, to carry out their missions. Taking an overall view of the process of Huang’s empowerment, while Chinese traditional elites sought to reinforce patriarchal norms from the top down, female religious leaders such as Huang exert their agency from the bottom up. This also highlights their ability to renegotiate the public–private distinction by mobilizing the resources at their disposal, with religious practices being a crucial form of these resources.

Sadly, Chen San-Long passed away in an untimely manner in 1997. This was a great loss for Huang because Chen was not only her husband but also her most reliable companion in cultivation. Huang has led the Baoguang Chongzheng alone since then. Sébastien Billioud has underscored that Yiguandao leaders’ charisma is transmitted from and is associated with Zhang Tianran’s authority. Thus, it is not only the leaders’ personal charisma that influences the congregation but also ‘charisma of function’, which perpetuates the lineage of the Heavenly Decree (Billioud 2020, pp. 117–21). Huang Shih-Yen’s charisma was established by two factors. With the consent of Zhang Tianran, Chen Wen-Xiang came to Taiwan to propagate Yiguandao, whereafter Chen passed this mission to Huang. To adopt the status of chief leader, Huang has been in the lineage of the Heavenly Decree within Yiguandao. When she gives lectures, she often refers to the teachings and visions of Chen Wen-Xiang. Therefore, she has been praised by her subordinates for respecting her predecessor (zunshi zhongdao 尊師重道), this also reinforces her succession to Chen’s leadership. In addition, devotees always recall her generosity and dedication to the Baoguang Chongzheng community. She also understands how difficult it is for women to navigate their family duties and work in the religious ministry at the same time; thus, she often encourages female devotees to “be brave while overcoming difficulties (要勇敢一點才能跨越困難)”.17 She also teaches them how to cook vegetarian dishes and manage the chores of Buddha Halls. According to my informant, in leading the primarily male Transmitting Masters, “in the early days, when human and financial resources were insufficient, Huang lao shuniu always led us preaching everywhere with her own conduct (在早期人力和財力資源都不足的情況下,黃老樞紐總是以身作則帶著我們四處成全)”.18 These elements have shaped her personal charisma.

3.2. Breaking New Ground

By accompanying Chen Wen-Xiang on his travels, Huang Shih-Yen broadened her horizons and gained abundant experience in implementing proselytising plans, which contributed to her drive and execution. Soon after she became leader, in 1988, Huang began to develop proselytising activities abroad. The first stop was Indonesia, where she began proselytising activities following a Taiwanese devotee and a businessman who invested in a timber factory and established a domestic altar in Tangerang, West Java. In the same year, the first domestic altar was set up by a local follower. In the early years, Huang herself would visit Indonesia every year to conduct seminars; she also sent several Transmitting Masters to travel between Taiwan and Indonesia from time to time. From Indonesia, the Baoguang Chongzheng subdivision has spread to Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia and Canada. Huang’s pioneering territory has also extended from Taiwan to Cambodia, Vietnam, the United States and Australia (Weng 2018). Preaching overseas is not unique to Huang. Since the Republican period in mainland China, Yiguandao has been an important redemptive society that regards peoples’ salvation as the ultimate target.19 The ultimate goal is to expand their mission of spreading the faith to uncharted territories (Billioud 2020, pp. 2–3). Here, I would like to stress that—because Chen Wen-Xiang was subjected to official surveillance and the Baoguang Chongzheng subdivision could not develop smoothly—it was from Huang’s time onward that the community could truly have a significant impact overseas.

In planning the prospects of the community, Huang Shih-Yen implemented some reforms. The two major ones that had significant influence were: first, digitalisation; second, the establishment of a flat hierarchy for Transmitting Masters. She has been promoting digitalisation since the 1990s, and the Baoguang Chongzheng community has set up a database of believers, facilitating the tracking of their learning progress and practical achievements. Although Huang did not receive much schooling, she has taken the initiative to learn how to use computers and makes all the presentation slides for her own lectures. During the period in mainland China, the operations of Yiguandao were organised at the level of Buddha Halls/domestic altars. The people in charge of Buddha Halls or domestic altars, known as ”tanzhu 壇主”, were responsible for leading the followers, delivering sermons and managing the temple’s activities. Most of the time, Transmitting Masters were responsible for presiding over rituals. Hence, there was a considerable distance between the followers and Transmitting Masters. Huang is willing to delegate authority to the Transmitting Masters under her. She has employed the corporate management concept of a flat organisation structure in the Baoguang Chongzheng community, which means assigning tasks to the Transmitting Masters and letting them to lead the activities of the followers directly. Consequently, the Masters are no longer distant figures; instead, they are close to followers.

4. Conclusions

This article has presented a Yiguandao female leader’s life history, a case that differs from many celibate female leaders in Chinese religions. Huang Shih-Yen came from an ordinary and deprived family in central Taiwan to become a top leader of a Yiguandao subdivision. Her journey commenced at the age of 16 when she began practising Yiguandao. It evolved as she dedicated herself to the faith while simultaneously managing her family and business responsibilities. Over time, she advanced to the position of Transmitting Master (the clergy in Yiguandao) within Yiguandao, assuming the role of chief leader. Despite the feminist movement in Taiwan emerged in the 1970s, it predominantly featured women from privileged backgrounds.20 Huang, on the other hand, was not from the elite class. Nevertheless, through her own efforts and the strength she derived from her faith, she successfully transformed her societal standing and was given the additional mission of proselytising to others.

At a time when female leaders were uncommon, even fewer female leaders could reach the highest leadership in Chinese religions, especially those who were also responsible for their families. There are several significant features of Huang Shih-Yen’s empowerment: first, she chose a distinct vision in life for herself rather than staying at home to raise her children and assist her husband. Second, her husband was willing to support her—because the Heavenly Decree in Yiguandao is the absolute authority. Further, she exhibited devotion to the Baoguang Chongzheng community and leadership by setting an example. Although this article has focused on Huang’s religious journey, with little mention of her role as wife and mother, she was never absent from her family. The fact that she is both a wife and a mother is a valuable feature of Huang’s life history as a practitioner. This aspect crucially establishes a new paradigm for present and future female practitioners—one that highlights independence and autonomy, contrasting with the traditional portrayal of women as either chaste and secluded monastics or self-sacrificing secular women solely dedicated to their families. Instead, it presents a paradigm where secular and sacred responsibilities can coexist harmoniously. Furthermore, Huang’s ability to bridge the public and private spheres demonstrates her agency in renegotiating the distinction between the two. She not only showcases her own agency but also presents an alternative path toward promoting justice.