Voices from the Field: Views on Online and Temple Worship

Drawing on a series of fieldwork interviews, I began to notice generational differences in how people relate to online forms of worship. Younger participants, mostly between the ages of 26 and 35, tended to speak positively about what they referred to as “cyber worship.” Convenience came up repeatedly in these conversations. For them, online worship fits more easily into daily life, saving time and reducing the need to travel to temples, aside from the cost of offerings or incense donations.

Older participants, including my mother and several temple workers, expressed a stronger attachment to in-person temple visits. They emphasized that the meaning of ritual emerges through direct, bodily experience. Being physically present allows one to sense the solemnity of the ceremony and the atmosphere created by the interaction between people, architecture, sound, and space. From their perspective, this atmosphere is difficult, if not impossible, to reproduce through digital platforms.

When reflecting on her own experience, my mother spoke about a time when information technology was far less developed. Knowledge about worship practices was largely shared through personal encounters, often passed down by elders, friends, guides, or monks. Because of this, she tends to trust teachings that come directly from established temples or from the older generation. While she does not entirely reject online “cyber-worship” platforms, she remains cautious. Her concern lies mainly with platforms that appear to commercialize belief. However, she is more receptive to those who position themselves as educational, particularly when they introduce Buddhist stories, cultural contexts, and historical backgrounds. In such cases, she sees online platforms as carrying a certain merit, as they help temples extend their teachings and maintain cultural continuity.

A similar view emerged in my conversation with a monk. He described physical temples as spaces where spiritual energy accumulates. During rituals, chanting resonates within the architectural enclosure, reinforcing a sense of presence and protection. When I asked whether recorded chanting, played at high volume, could produce a similar effect, he acknowledged that it might have some influence. Yet, in his view, it could never fully replicate the experience of live chanting. He likened chanting to a form of incantation, suggesting that its efficacy lies not simply in sound, but in the energy transmitted through the act itself. To clarify this distinction, he compared it to the difference between speaking with someone face-to-face and communicating through a screen.

He further explained that religious experience involves the engagement of all five senses: hearing, sight, smell, taste, and touch. Online worship, he argued, is limited to visual and auditory channels, which makes it structurally incapable of replacing in-person practice. He was particularly critical of online activities such as drawing lots or receiving digital “blessings.” From his perspective, Buddhism is fundamentally grounded in the principle of cause and effect. The pursuit of outcomes without corresponding practice, seeking “fruit” without first “planting seeds,” reflects a misunderstanding of karmic logic.

At the same time, he acknowledged the internet as a valuable means of outreach. As a medium, it enables Buddhist teachings and cultural knowledge to circulate more widely, reaching audiences who might otherwise have little access to them.