My name is James Morrison, and I teach a World Religions course at Red Wing High School (Red Wing, Minnesota). It has not been easy. Over the years I have been condemned by Christian fundamentalists for “polluting the minds of children with false ideas” and for “doing the devil’s work.” I have been teaching for seventeen years, and I am writing a book about my experiences and the challenges of teaching about religion in public schools (I teach juniors and seniors). . . . The bulk of the book will be categorically divided into chapters. Each chapter will be a collection of letter responses (answers) to the following question: “What (if anything) should public schools teach children about religion?”

Here’s my response:

I once visited a Taoist temple in Chinatown that was housed in a brownstone apartment building. After I trudged up three flights, an elderly priest in indigo robes buzzed open an iron gate and welcomed me into a single large hall. Aside from a few hanging lanterns, most of the light came from the front of the building, where a series of sliding doors had been thrown open to a balcony and the daylight beyond. A large altar crowded with Taoist and Buddhist statues faced the opening, but figures of Jesus and Mohammed were also there to receive the chanting, incense, and gentle sounding of bells in worship. It seems to me that we should be just as universal in educating our students, and that education goes hand in hand with veneration.

Public schools should give students an education about all the world’s religions in an age-appropriate way and in relationship to the overall high school curriculum. A complete education in history, government, or literature is impossible otherwise. One cannot adequately study European or Middle Eastern history without exploring the long and complicated interaction of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. Understanding the very beginnings of the United States requires comprehending the issue of religious freedom. And how could we possibly read the Song of Roland, the Canterbury Tales, or the Divine Comedy without probing the religious themes embodied in the texts? A complete education requires understanding religion.

A comparative religion class offered at the high school level would provide even greater gains: it would promote tolerance. One need not become a Buddhist to understand and appreciate that spiritual tradition. If one is Protestant, there’s nothing wrong with studying Catholicism. In this day where the tensions with Islam are high, it’s imperative not to demonize it. After all, it’s the very attitude of demonization that inflames Islam against us.

Some parents are concerned with exposing their children to other religions—as if the mere study of another belief would make their children run away from home. This is puzzling because we don’t apply the same attitude to other subjects. If a child is good at science, does that mean she shouldn’t study literature for fear she’ll become a writer? If a child is good at literature, does that mean he should be forbidden from taking physical education for fear that he’ll want to become a professional athlete? Do we stop our children from going to a friend’s house for dinner for fear that they’ll then want to move to a “better” family? We do none of these things; there’s no harm in exposing our children to comparative religions.

High school is fundamental to establishing a child’s stability for the remainder of his or her life. During this formative time, we equip our students with as many skills as we can. We demand that they study the entire range of subjects from the humanities to the sciences, from physical education to the arts. We know that they will fall back on their educations every day of the rest of their lives. Yet when it comes to religion, we leave that to haphazard sidebars in textbooks or tentative ventures into somebody else’s house of worship. If we are concerned about children leaving their home religion, opposing the mention of religion in schools will not stop that—it only leaves that inevitable process a clumsy and ignorant one. According to the Pew Forum, about half of American adults change religious affiliation at least once during their lives. The survey further found that most of those who decided to leave their childhood faith said that they did so prior to the age of twenty-four. Knowing that half of all students will be searching means that we should provide the proper basis for inquiry. In addition, for the other half that will stay with their family religion, we can provide greater security as they learn the good points of those beliefs and how all religions address the same questions.

I am not advocating the teaching of a single religion, proselytizing for any religion, nor the teaching of religious practices without a great range and wide experience. No student should be required to renounce, contradict, or violate their own religious beliefs for the sake of exploring other ideas. As long as that principle of respecting a student’s personal religion is observed even as other systems are being studied, then all will be well.

My own education parallels all that I’ve said. I was raised as a Methodist, attending both Sunday school and nighttime Chinese language school at a church just half a block from the Taoist temple I’ve described. I was in church six days a week. In the meantime, though, I kept encountering references to Taoism in literature, history, and art. Furthermore, I only got a larger understanding of my own culture and religious traditions not through any family or community settings, but in college classes. Eventually, I have moved completely into Taoism and have written extensively about it. However, that does not mean that I have lost any respect for Christianity, and I remain interested in all the world’s religions. When I travel, I visit churches, temples, and holy sites of all kinds. After all these years, I’m still following the example of that altar I saw in Chinatown. Every religion is worthy of respect. Each person should be allowed to choose the religion that seems best, and the commitment to religion is only strengthened by learning and tolerance.

Pearl was born and educated in China.  She is a performer, artist and educator.  She has taught Chinese language, culture, and holistic healing at the University of New Mexico, Taos, since 2002.  She  has also led cultural study tours to various parts of China.

You can see more at: http://www.ruyistudio.com/index.html

The year of the dragon should certainly be an active one. Some say it’s especially lucky. When we have good fortune, we have to work hard to make use of it, and to stay balanced. When we have bad fortune, we have to work hard to overcome our difficulties. Therefore, only the actions and hard work of each individual are stronger than fate.

One year, though, the Nian was scared away by a child dressed in red. Thereafter, villagers hung red lanterns and red scrolls on windows and doors and used firecrackers to scare the Nian away.

The beast was eventually captured by a Taoist monk named Hongjun Laozu, and he rides the Nian to this day.

A Family Holiday

The Spring Festival (Chun Jie) beginning with Lunar New Year Day, is a family holiday. Family members return home to see parents and grandparents and to renew family ties. For many, it may be their only opportunity of the year. Much of Asia closes for this two-week period and very little business occurs. The Spring Festival period is the busiest time for the transportation and communications systems within China.

Nowadays, e-mails, text messaging, and mobile phone calls are replacing some of the traditional travel—However, the old attitude prevails: every person goes home for the Lunar New Year, sees friends and close relatives, or at least makes contact.
The Lunar New Year is celebrated throughout the People’s Republic of China, Asia, and in Chinatowns and Chinese communities throughout the world.

Fifteen Days of Celebration

Traditional Spring Festival practices include visits to temples, prayer, paying respects to parents and in-laws, withdrawing on some days for private observances, and arranging for a succession of rich banquets and vegetarian days. In more recent times, joyous public celebrations have been added: fireworks, concerts, acrobatic shows, parades, and exhibitions abound in many communities. Lavish fireworks in cities like Beijing and Shanghai make for grand celebrations.

The fifteen-day period ends with the Lantern Festival (p. 19). People carry lanterns, view lanterns, and stroll in the streets. Lanterns have grown to the size of large floats with glowing dragons, crabs, birds, figures, and pagodas.

Auspicious Actions

Every attempt is made to perform auspicious actions before and after the start of the new year. As the old year ends, a family cleans house thoroughly, symbolically sweeping away lingering misfortunes from the old year. There is no cleaning on new year’s day to avoid sweeping away good luck.
Business people hurry to settle debts, for no one wishes to enter the new year encumbered, and all people are encouraged to settle grudges. As much as possible, everyone wishes to be free of any problems from the past, and to look forward to peace, happiness, and prosperity.

It’s important to avoid harsh words, anger, or arguments during Lunar New Year. Children are delighted because there is neither scolding nor punishment on the first day of a new year.

Windows and doors are decorated with paper cuts and couplets with good wishes for happiness, prosperity, and longevity. In particular, one can see the word for “happiness,” (fu) everywhere. People who can recognize a little Chinese are often puzzled why this word is displayed upside down in homes and store windows, but it symbolizes happiness pouring into our lives.

On Lunar New Year Eve all the members of the family gather for a rich feast. Traditional dishes include roast pork, duck, chicken, fish, and sweets. All the food must be perfect in appearance and taste, and poultry and fish must be served whole—having a “head and a tail” symbolizes being thorough and complete. The night ends with firecrackers to drive away evil spirits.

Early the next morning, children greet their parents and wish them happy new year. The parents hand out red envelopes with “lucky money” inside. The envelopes are decorated with wishes for happiness, long life, wealth, success, and the fulfillment of all wishes.

Married couples also give these red envelopes to the elderly, unmarried family members, and to children. Even numbers are favored for the amounts. The number eight is popular because it sounds like the word “wealth,” and the number six is popular because it sounds like the word for “flowing.”

Many things having to do with the Lunar New Year are red, which is considered a lucky color. (By contrast, white is avoided as unlucky— it’s worn at funerals.) Red represents joy, virtue, truth, sincerity, and the heart.

My love of Taoism started very early. probably around 9 years old. I found the Daodejingat the library and it just resonated in me. My Baptist mother and Catholic father did not understand, but funnily enough I went to Taishan with my father in the late 90s. . . . I found time to meditate in some of the more solitary places there which made me happy. And of course it was a dream to photograph there.

What are the sacred mountains in our own spiritual landscape? That can be a literal question—are there mountains near where you live that are special to you? It can be a metaphorical question—what are are the peaks of your inner landscape? In either case, they are mountain to be discovered. They are mountains to be climbed.

For all of us, then, winter solstice is a reminder that darkness comes to its greatest culmination—for exactly one day. On all the other days, there is a dynamic and precise proportion between dark and light. It is measurable, it is complete. It is, for any day, immutable. Yes, the darkness of solstice cannot be altered—but human beings can do what nature cannot: we can forbear and outlast it and live to see tomorrow.

The people of the past have left us many hints about what to do: families come back together, nourish themselves, give thanks to their ancestors, and in looking at the round balls of glutinous rice in their round bowls sitting at round tables, they reaffirm that all of life is a smooth cycle. The Taoists observe the day precisely, aligning themselves with the greater cosmic cycles of sunrise and sunset and the turning of the earth. They also celebrate the Three Pure Ones, reflecting on a religious level the worship of ancestors, and turning to faith at a time when the sky is dark and the cycles of life so profoundly change. They also choose this day to set their entire next year, for the winter solstice marks the time of transition for a lunar calendar that always centers around the eleventh month occuring during the winter solstice.

At any time of your life, you may find yourself in a winter, and you may feel that you are in the darkest of times. Think back to this day then and do what has been done for thousands of years: unite with your family, nourish yourself and others, fix your mind on the truth of cycles, forbear, and take refuge in reverence for the holy.

The bottom of the hexagram is the early stage of a situation, the top is the ending of a situation. Viewed as a diagram of time, the top five lines of the hexagram’s split lines, representing yin, show a situation of nearly complete darkness (one of yin’s attributes). Only one yang line, represented by an unbroken line, has appeared at the bottom, the traditional “entrance” to the hexagram. Therefore, this hexagram is seen as a graph of light returning to a situation of almost complete darkness. Thus, the hexagram is clearly shows the time of the solstice—just as darkness is nearly complete, then light must return.

Commentators on the I Ching have explained that all movement is analyzed according to the six stages represented by the six lines of the hexagram. The seventh stage brings return. Corresponding to this, the winter solstice occurs in the seventh month after the summer solstice, as sunrise occurs in the seventh double-hour after sunset.

Three texts accompany each hexagram. One of the three texts is called the Image, reputedly written by Confucius himself.

Thunder in the center of the earth: returning.
The ancient kings closed the borders during the solstices
Traveling merchants did not journey.
Sovereigns did not tour the provinces.

This means that the winter solstice was seen as a time of rest and renewal. During winter, the life energy is dormant and much of nature is resting. The movement that will bring a restoration of life is underground. If one looks at the hexagram spatially, the yang line that represents the return of life is still under the earth. The sages extrapolated from this to suggest what we should do whenver there is a darkness in our life: we rest and renew ourselves. Whether this means the return of health after illness, the return of understanding after conflict, or the return of good fortune after disaster, the return of good has to be allowed to come in its own time, and it must be strengthened by rest and care.

The Statement, contributed by King Wen, emphasizes the forbearance necessary to acept the cyclical nature of life. Since the I Ching is partially a book of divination, the profundity of how it would have us accept cycles and to work with returning is of vital importance:

Returning. Continue.
In coming and going, there is neither sickness nor distress.
Companions come without fault.
Returning is its Tao.
In seven days, returning comes.
Gain by having a place to go.

The Winter Solstice is the time to reunite with our families, enjoy good food that will aid in renewal, and to contemplate the truth of the seasons. Whenever we are oppressed by darkness, light is sure to return.

One central food, especially for southern and overseas Chinese is the making and eating of tangyuan (soup with spheres). These are spheres of glutinous rice flour. Their diameters vary according to the tradition of the maker. Some make the balls large, and others make the balls the same size—about an inch in diameter. The balls can be plain or stuffed, and the dish can be sweet or savory. The entire family is expected to gather on this day—tangyuan sounds like tuanyuan, which means family reunion.

Some people make a dish of glutionous rice and red beans in the belief that this will drive away evil spirits. According to one story, Gong Gongshi had an evil son who died on this day, but came back as a malignant spirit who made people ill. Knowing that his son was afraid of red beans, Gong taught everyone how to cook this dish to repel his evil son.

The white spheres are symbols of the completeness of cycles, that there is returning, and that all will be smooth.

In the north, dumplings rather than tangyuan are eaten. This practice is tied to the Han Dynasty physician, Zhang Zhongling (150–219). Seeing poor people suffering from chilblains on their ears, he ordered his apprentices to make mutton dumplings to distribute to the poor. The dumplings themeselves were shaped like ears, and so he named the soup “Expelling-Cold Tender-Ear Soup” (quhan jiaoer tang).

Another northern Chinese custom is to eat a dumpling soup called huntun. During the Han Dynasty, the Huns, led by two leaders, Hun and Tun invaded China. The huntun dumplings became a way to show anger for the enemy. Some people believe there’s a connection between the huntun and the wonton dumpling soup popular today, but this is difficult to establish with certainty.

In the old days, those clans that still maintained family temples had reunions of all members of the family at the ancestral shrines for ceremonies and sacrifice, followed by lavish meals.