Covid-19 has caused global shifts in how we live our lives, from virtual business functions and school lessons to live-streaming church services. One of the latest modifications to cultural norms may be the switch to virtual/remote ancestral worship in Chinese communities.
For Chinese people worldwide, April 4-7 is the annual Ching Ming (or Qingming) Festival, where Chinese people travel from all over the world to their hometowns to reunite with their families and visit their ancestors’ graves. They sweep the tombs, place food, tea, or wine on the altar, and burn incense or (fake) money to be used as currency in the afterlife. It is also the festival that signals the beginning of Spring: “Ching Ming So Mo” translates roughly to the “clean and bright tomb sweep” that occurs after the end of a grey, rainy season.
Ching Ming is the one day a year where descendants of the deceased gather together, putting aside rivalries and petty squabbles, to pay respects. Much like Mexico’s Day of the Dead, or the U.S.A.’s Thanksgiving, an important characteristic of the Chinese holiday is to reunite with family.
But this year, in the interest of social distancing and protection against further spread of the coronavirus, Chinese, Singaporean, and Taiwanese government health officials are now urgently pointing to an option to virtually celebrate the festival.
Chinese Communities Asked to Remotely Celebrate Ching Ming Festival
For example, Hong Kong’s Food and Environmental Hygiene Department’s dedicated website for Internet Memorial Service says, “Relatives and friends of the deceased can choose the layout design, write the deceased’s life story, upload photos and videos, and set up various features for the memorial webpage. The webpage can be set as either ‘public’ or ‘private.’ By simply entering the name of the deceased, the public can search, browse and leave messages in uploaded memorial webpages that are set as open to the public.”
So what does the concept of a virtual Ching Ming Festival mean for Chinese culture? The answer may be a complicated one for a collective, hierarchical society, where filial piety is the centrepiece of morality, and respect for government authority is of utmost importance.
But Not All Generations Like the Idea of Virtual Ancestor Worship
It is worth noting that as a group-minded culture, Chinese communities are likely less preoccupied with individual sickness, and are particularly aware in this current environment how their personal choices may affect the health of the collective society. And yet, there is a noticeable generational gap between those who consider virtual participation to be sufficient, and those who believe that ancestor worship is a physical task that must be done face-to-face.
For example, Ching Ming is particularly favoured by older generations, which would put them in high risk to fall ill from the coronavirus, if they were to venture out in public. Citizens may not have a choice in choosing ritual over health, but traditionalists are doubtful that new technology is a respectful replacement. Younger generations, on the other hand, have a higher familiarity with modern technology and therefore may not have a problem with the virtual worship as an alternative, even outside the confines of a pandemic.
What’s more, however highly-valued cultural traditions are among Chinese communities, we must also consider how Chinese people view status and the pride that comes with leading the world’s technological advances. If new technology and innovation are signs of societal high status, the Chinese associate themselves with their contributions to the tech world, and therefore may find it counterproductive to reject modern virtual techniques when it is offered as a solution to a modern problem.
Along with the rest of the world, Chinese people are attempting to find a balance between an increasingly technology-heavy modern society and deep-rooted traditional values, particularly in areas outside mainland China (such as Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Singapore) where Confucian values are still widely taught.
I am lucky that my Chinese family is large enough to span from agnostic to pious, and a distant uncle is willing to leave his residence to sweep the tombs of my maternal ancestors, while the rest of my family can rest easy in quarantine. It will be interesting to observe how the virtual disruption of a coronavirus pandemic affects the future choices of honouring a tradition that spans thousands of years, particularly when it contrasts with adhering to the strong suggestions of government authority on behalf of citizens’ health and safety.
To learn more about the distinct generational characteristics in China, I invite you to read RW3’s Sean Dubberke’s piece about China’s three primary generations in Mobility, titled Exploring China’s Multigenerational Workplace.
