Making the Gods Speak: The Ritual Production of Revelation in Chinese Religious History by Vincent Goossaert

For any students of Chinese religious history, the sheer number of various kinds of religious texts (canonical scriptures, ritual manuals, etc.) supposedly handed down by an assorted group of divine entities to mankind is nothing but overwhelming: thousands, if not tens of thousands, of them have appeared since the early medieval era. Until recently, however, this vast body of revelation texts, except for a few prominent titles which have secured canonical status within their respective religious traditions, has largely remained unscrutinized. Part of the reason for this scholarly neglect was the widely shared assumption that these texts usually fall into the amorphous category of folk or popular religion, which for long has occupied a marginalized position in the field of religious studies. Fortunately, a small but growing group of scholars has begun to address the omission over the past decades.¹ Even though their works have greatly augmented our understanding of revelation texts and their significance in Chinese religious history, they collectively suffer from several noticeable limitations. First, scholars often focus on a selected number of texts produced within a specific religious or sectarian tradition. Consequently, we have a number of fine case studies but lack a framework for a more holistic and comparative perspective. Moreover, previous scholarship has primarily analyzed the content of revelation texts with little consideration of the ritual context in which revelations took place. Vincent Goossaert's new book under review here, which is the culmination of years of meticulous research, squarely addresses these shortcomings. Consequently, it succeeds in providing the hitherto most systematic and comprehensive study of the subject, significantly deepening our understanding of the evolution of the ritual production of revelation throughout Chinese history.

Making the Gods Speak consists of two parts besides the introduction and the conclusion. In the first part (chapters 1 and 2), the author mainly introduces an overarching theoretical framework to account for different modes of human-divine interaction or "divine presence" (p. 6) and offers a typology to classify different types of revelation. Building upon these analytical tools, the second part (chapters 3–8) zooms in to provide a more dynamic narrative to chart and explain several turning points of far-reaching significance in the history of revelation.

Goossaert begins the book by identifying two paradigms of divine presence in Chinese religious history. The first is that of spontaneous presence in which gods come to interact with humans on their own initiative without any forewarning. This type of presence may take various forms. In a typical scenario, a person unexpectedly encounters a god in a reclusive area (e.g., remote mountains), and the latter then bequeaths a sacred text to the former. In contrast to spontaneous presence underlining divine agency in the process of divine–human interaction, the second model of ritualized presence foregrounds human agency; that is, religious practitioners employ a set of ritual techniques to initiate communication with divine beings.

Divine presence often, but not necessarily, generates revelation. The author defines revelation as discursive content that is depicted as originating from a spirit and is of general interest to humanity, which is analytically opposed to divine response answering an individual's specific needs. Based on three criteria of the ritual technique used, the scenario of the event of revelation, and the form and content of the revealed text, Goossaert proposes a typology of five ideal-typical categories of revelation. In the sutra type, there is no mention of how a revealed text reached humanity. By contrast, in the encounter type, the reader is informed of the details surrounding the revelatory event. Nevertheless, the receiver apparently does not employ any ritual technique to materialize the revelation. In the possession type, divine pronouncements are made through possessed mediums. Occasionally, rituals are performed to bring about spirit possession. Ritual techniques, however, become crucially important in the visualization type in which an adept employs a set of codified rituals to initiate a mental encounter with the deity. Since visualization is inherently internalized, there is no witness to the revelatory event. If secrecy defines the previous type, then a certain degree of publicity characterizes the final type. In the presence type, the adept performs specialized rituals to initiate a divine presence that is directly perceptible to the audience. A notable example of this type is spirit-writing—the main focus of the book—which is defined as "any technique where spirits are invited through prescribed ritual means to manifest themselves either in a writing implement and/or in the person(s) wielding this implement in order to write characters, often in response to questions" (p. 10). The author concludes that the first three types underscore divine agency in the revelation, while the last two emphasize human agency.

After laying out the analytical foundation of the book, Goossaert moves on to provide a history of the production of revelation. Even though revelation first appeared in China in the third century, the author is primarily concerned with its latter-day transformations since the early modern era (tenth–fifteenth centuries). The first significant change occurred at the end of first millennium when new spirit-writing techniques emerged that helped create a new type of revelation: the presence type with controlled possession. These techniques, commonly known as daofa, are exorcistic and apotropaic in nature and practiced by a particular group of Daoist specialists called fashi. In essence, the early modern fashi deployed codified daofa rituals to summon gods in the heavenly bureaucracy to possess the medium, who, in turn, rendered the revelation perceptible toward a targeted audience (e.g., patrons). A key innovation here is that fashi exerted an unprecedented degree of control over the whole process of revelation, not only ensuring that gods were made present, but also validating the authenticity of their revelations.

The second momentous transformation of the ritual production of revelation took place in the late Ming period (late sixteenth–early seventeenth centuries), which can be discerned at several levels. First and foremost, whereas early modern spirit-writing was under the thumb of religious specialists like fashi, a variegated group of educated laities, especially the Confucian gentry, began to produce revelations on their own. They did so for the dual purposes of self-cultivation and universal salvation through moral reform. To achieve these goals, like-minded spirit-writing practitioners formed a new type of organization, commonly called jitan (altars), and engaged in various practices, the core of which was the wide distribution of revelation texts through printing. Second, the jitan began to invoke gods not previously known for spirit-writing and often not associated with exorcistic ritual lineages to generate revelation texts. The most prominent among them is Patriarch Lü. Third, the content of revelation also underwent significant changes. In particular, morality books became the core genre of late imperial spirit-writing production. Finally, in the milieu of the jitan, a simpler and more accessible form of spirit-writing technique, fuji, gained enormous popularity, which liberated its lay adepts from relying on Daoist priests to produce revelation. Taken together, Goossaert suggests that these changes point to the "secularization" of spirit-writing: it became increasingly popular and legitimate for nonordained persons to practice it. Even though Daoist priests continued to perform spirit-writing rituals, it is evident that what started as exclusive priestly expertise had entered general circulation.

After the foundation of the Qing dynasty (1644–1912), the elite-led jitan enlisted the state's help in promoting the spirit-writing practice across the empire. The result of such efforts was the unprecedented process of canonization during the long eighteenth century, as evidenced by two intertwined phenomena. First, various spirit-writing groups often competed with each other to gather a substantial number of revelation texts to compile canons, literally "complete books" (quanshu), for major savior gods, the most eminent of which were Patriarch Lü, Wenchang, and Guandi. Parallel to the process of textual canonization, elite spirit-writing practitioners, not a few of whom were high-ranking imperial officials, succeeded in lobbying the state to grant prestigious titles to these gods, thereby elevating them to high statuses in both heavenly bureaucracy and this-worldly pantheons. Goossaert's research thus powerfully debunks the still influential myth that spirit-writing belonged fundamentally to the realm of "popular religion," since it was mainly practiced by non-elites.

Until the twentieth century, the last noteworthy turning point in the historical development of revelation was its adoption by sectarian groups like Xiantiandao in the mid-nineteenth century. The larger context here was the widespread social chaos unleashed by the Taiping War (1851–1864). A defining feature of wartime revelations was the prevalence of eschatological scenarios. According to one of the then most popular scenarios, the day of the apocalypse is near at hand, but a few caring deities (notably the Unborn Eternal Mother) attempt to bring back to them as many souls as possible, thereby sending various savior gods to bestow revelation texts on human beings. What is particularly remarkable about wartime revelations is the mutual influence of elite and sectarian spirit-writing groups and the resultant emergence of hybrid eschatological scenarios, in which, on the one hand, the messianic, anti-establishment messages of the sectarian movements had been moderated, and, on the other hand, elite spirit-writing cults accepted sectarian-originated deities into the pantheons of orthodox revelation gods.

Given the empirical richness and theoretical depth of Goossaert's research, it would be impossible for the reviewer to address every major issue raised in the book. Here, I want to comment on the potential larger significance of its findings to our understanding of Chinese religious history. Based on Goossaert's account, a striking red thread running throughout the history of revelation is its gradual "secularization" since the early modern era, as religious specialists like Daoist priests became increasingly supplemented with or even replaced by lay adepts in the performance of spirit-writing rituals. This trend seems to support Robert Hymes's influential theory of the "laicization" of Chinese religion since the eleventh century. Hymes proposes that there was a general shift in the balance of power and initiative from the clergy toward the laity from the Song dynasty (960–1279) onward. In this new arrangement, ordinary clerics came under the thumb of their lay patrons, primarily catering to the latter's needs for liturgical services.² It will thus be particularly rewarding if Goossaert could engage in a dialogue with Hymes's theory and situate the history of revelation within the broader landscape of Chinese religion.

In sum, Making the Gods Speak marks the first major systemic attempt to study revelation in Chinese history, and it succeeds in establishing both the theoretical framework and historical narrative to understand this understudied subject. As a result, this masterpiece will become foundational reading, stimulating scholars for years to come.