I’m going to preface this one with a bit of a personal story.
Living in Taiwan, people tend to assume a few things about foreigners.
One of them is that we’re all American, of course.
Another is that we’re all Christian.
Given Taiwan’s post-war history, its understandable that a lot of older people would just assume that you’re an American. For most of us Canadians living here, it can be something that becomes relatively annoying, but after a few years, I came to the conclusion that there obviously weren’t any ill-intentions involved.
The latter though, I’m assuming is because there are so many clean cut missionaries bicycling around the island evangelizing that people just started assuming we’re all followers.
I may have grown up in a predominately Christian community, with a grandmother who tried to frighten my younger sister and I into religion. As most young people of my generation are likely to understand, the old ‘fire-and-brimstone’ style of scaring people into religion was something that had to change as young people, like myself, rejected the negativity presented by the church. The shift wasn’t something that happened overnight, but I have vivid memories of being sat down in front of a TV during my pre-teen years at my grandma’s house with my younger sister and was forced to watch an ‘End of Days’ film.
The movie was so poorly made that it didn’t really have the desired effect.
The problem for most churches in North America is that the vast majority of congregations aged to a point that, from a business point of view, wasn’t very sustainable. Senior citizens were going to go to church every Sunday, no matter what was going on. When it came to young people though, a strategy change was necessary. So, by the time I was a teenager, church services started changing to a ‘less threatening’ rock concert-like experience.
Gone were the days of preacher man standing at his pulpit telling everyone they were going to hell.
Instead, the philosophy became one of “God is Love,” focusing more on the positive aspects of faith.
None of this really had any effect on my life, but for some young people it was good enough.
One of them was my sister, who continued attending with my grandma for the rest of her high school days. Fortunately, my parents were pretty cool (non-believers themselves), and when I told them that I wasn’t interested in attending with my grandma, they didn’t force me.
Years later, I recall having a video chat with my family during the holidays, and my grandma asked if I ever started going to church here in Taiwan. I just smiled and didn’t say anything to which she quipped, “Oh yeah, I forgot. You’re a nothing,” which probably sounds insulting, but it’s only because she doesn’t know how to say “non-believer” or “atheist” in English. And hey, it’s better than being called a “heathen” or a “sinner.”
Shortly after that conversation, I heard from my sister that the church she grew up attending was forced to re-locate to a smaller building across town. Religious organizations may not have to pay taxes in Canada like the rest of us, but the price of heating and paying the staff became far too much for the small congregation to support, thus requiring a move. A year later, the declining attendance and revenue ultimately forced them out of business for good, sending my grandma and her church friends elsewhere.
That’s capitalism for you.
In 2019, it was reported that out of Canada’s 27,000 churches, more than a third of them would face closure within the next decade. The Anglican Church of Canada for example had about 1.3 million members in 1961 but by 2017, that number had dropped to 282,000 - the vast majority of them senior citizens.
Sociologists predict that by 2040 the Anglican Church in Canada will have already disappeared.
Link: COVID may have hastened Christianity's decline in Canada (National Post)
My experience of course is essentially a Canadian one, but the decline we have seen in Canada is not an isolated one as there have been similar issues for the church across the world.
But what about here in Taiwan?
When people think about this country, I think it’s safe to assume that most wouldn’t guess that Christianity is as prevalent as it is - There are so many Taoist, Buddhist and Taiwanese folk-religion temples wherever you go in the country that the growing number churches here almost seem insignificant.
That’s where you’d be wrong though.
One area where the church has succeeded in Taiwan, where it has failed elsewhere is attracting young people. The shift that we saw in the attitude of the church towards one of “love” instead of scare-tactics is one that works here, with quite a few young people attracted to the less rigid and less time consuming form of Christianity. Coupled with the fact that a high percentage of Taiwan’s Indigenous population (nearly 70%) are believers, Christianity in Taiwan is experiencing a surge in numbers that makes for a success story that churches elsewhere are likely to be quite envious of; Still, with only an estimated 3.9%-4.7% of Taiwan’s total population professing to be Christian, believers here see room for continued growth.
That being said, the topic of today’s post is an abandoned church, so even though the number of Christian believers appears to be growing in Taiwan, the country isn’t immune to the same closures that we’ve seen elsewhere. That being said, it’s safe to say that the closure of churches here in Taiwan are often for reasons that are quite different than other areas where the religion finds itself in decline.
The largest factor for church closures across Taiwan is due to a decline in the population of small communities and villages. This is because the vast majority of the ‘traditional’ churches that you’ll find across the country are located within mountainous villages, home to Indigenous peoples.
Many of these communities have been in decline in recent years with young people leaving for better opportunities elsewhere. In a community that was once able to support several churches, some have had to close, share their space, or act as a community center or clinic during the week.
In most cases, the building which once housed a place of worship has been converted into a local community space rather than being completely abandoned. Nevertheless, there are a growing number of abandoned churches across the country, and the photos I’m sharing today are from one of them.
Link: TUBA Church (基國派老教堂)
It’s at this point that I have to remind readers that this is an Urban Exploration article, so I won’t be offering specifics as to the location of this building, or how you can get inside;
So, enjoy the photos, but don’t contact me to ask for additional information.
Part of the Catholic Church of Taiwan, this modest place of worship in the mountains of northern Taiwan’s farm country dates back to 1953, shortly after the Chinese Nationalists arrived on the island.
Located within a tea and rice farming community, the church was a branch of the much larger catholic church organization, headed by Spanish missionaries, which was part of an effort to evangelize to the people of the countryside. Unfortunately, historic information about those churches is difficult to find, but from what little is available, the thing I found most impressive is that the Spanish clergy held their services in either Taiwanese (台語) or Hakka (客家語), depending on where the church was located. Having proficiency in either language is an accomplishment that very few foreigners, including myself, are able to claim.
Due to the lack of information available about the churches, it’s difficult to pin down any precise information about when this specific building was abandoned, but from personal experience (I’ve been driving by the place for quite a while), it’s been abandoned for at least over a decade.
Coming with the main church building, a bell tower, classrooms and an office building next door, the entire complex has been overtaken by nature in recent years. When I first visited a few years back, it was obvious that someone was still maintaining the grounds, but they’ve stopped in recent years.
Navigating your way through the brush that has grown up in the administrative section next to the church, you’ll find that this is the area that seems the most dated. The building was gutted at some point, leaving very little remaining, but a skeleton of the original building. To the rear, you’ll find a space that was likely used as an office for the staff at the church. This section of the building is in better shape, but its completely empty as well.
The main attraction here though is the interior of the church, which is quite beautiful in the right light.
Like the other buildings, not much remains within the interior as all of the chairs and decorations have been removed, leaving a mostly empty shell of what was once there. Having all of the clutter removed though isn’t necessarily a terrible thing as you’re able to get a much better perspective of its architectural design.
Just above the main doors to the building there is an open second level where you were likely to have found a piano at some point. This is also the space connected to the bell tower where staff would be able to ring the bell before services started. The second floor is reachable by a beautiful, yet very narrow set of spiral stairs.
From the top there isn’t much space, but you get a nice view of the interior as well as the stained glass windows that would have provided some excellent natural light during the early morning and afternoon.
Likewise on both sides of the building you’ll find stained glass windows, some of which are broken, but are still quite beautiful. As someone who comes from North America, these windows are one of those familiar things that you don’t see too often in Taiwan, but are a welcome inclusion to the exploration experience.
The pulpit area is where being abandoned to the elements has had the most detrimental effect to the interior as the wooden stage is in pretty rough shape. You have to be careful while walking on it as any step could find yourself sinking through the moldy wood.
Similarly, the curved ceiling is in pretty bad shape with some of the wooden panels starting to fall off.
One thing that I didn’t actually notice until I got home was that the ceiling was home to several large wasp nests, which actually makes exploring the church quite dangerous if they’re annoyed by your presence.
The only object that actually remains within the church is the altar at the read of the building. The simple table stands in a space just behind where the priest would have stood to give his sermons.
To the left of the altar was a rear exit to the building and to the right is a cubicle space that I’m going to assume was used as a confessional, but it’s in pretty bad shape so its hard to tell for sure.
Suffice to say, there isn’t all that much to see at this ruin. If you’re able to find it, you’ll be able to explore the space and take an ample amount of photos in less than half an hour.
You may find that some my earlier statements about the church somewhat negative, but I assure you, I’m ambivalent about all of it. People are free to believe in whatever makes them feel better. Christianity has played a massive role throughout our history, so it would be sad to see it completely disappear, but then again throughout our history some pretty terrible things have happened because of religion.
Back home in Canada, the nation is currently wrestling with the absolutely disgusting history of our so-called ‘residential school system’, where the church ran boarding schools for Indigenous peoples across the country. Now, after more than a century, we’re only recently starting to discover the horrible truth of what actually took place at these death camps, which is a stain on our nation, and is likely to drive people further away from the church.
Who knows, maybe during my next trip home, I’ll be able to explore abandoned churches like this one!
Gallery / Flickr (High Res Photos)
