Do Asian Christians commit sin when they participate in cultural festivals?

Every April, Malaysian Chinese families gather at cemeteries for Qingming, the tomb-sweeping festival. Cars line the narrow village roads, incense rises into the morning sky from mammoth josssticks, and food is laid at gravesides. Qingming is akin to the Catholic All Souls Day. 

For Chinese Christians, this day often brings a quiet tension: Am I honouring my ancestors, or am I participating in something that contradicts my faith?

Herbert Thong, a Malaysian Chinese, now an evangelical Christian, tells Radio Veritas Asia: “I visit the cemeteries of my ancestors during the Qingming festival, but I do not take part in the traditional rituals like I used to do as a child. I just take a bow before the graves of my ancestors as a filial son and grandson.”

 A similar unease stirs among Muslims in Sabah and Sarawak during Kaamatan and Gawai, the harvest festivals of the native Kadazandusun and Dayak peoples. These celebrations, rich in dance, rice wine, and rituals of thanksgiving, are deeply cultural, yet they carry echoes of pre-Islamic traditions. For some Muslims, joining in feels natural as a cultural event; for others, it raises alarms of syncretism.

These are not small matters. They reveal an old and recurring unease across Asia: where does culture end, and religion begin? Are festivals, dances, and rituals innocent cultural expressions, or do they threaten the integrity of faith?

The truth is rarely simple. Religion, by its nature, is born in culture. To strip a faith of its cultural clothing is to risk leaving it naked, rootless, and ultimately fragile.

Jesus the Jew: Faith Rooted in Culture

Christianity itself begins not as an abstract spiritual system, but within the soil of Jewish culture. Jesus of Nazareth grew up immersed in the rhythms of Jewish life: he was circumcised on the eighth day, presented in the Temple, and raised within a family that observed the Sabbath. He joined his parents on pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the great feasts, and as an adult, he celebrated Passover with his disciples, a meal that became the Last Supper.

Jesus also observed Hanukkah (the Feast of Dedication) and likely the harvest festival of Sukkot, when Jews lived in booths and gave thanks for God’s providence.

His parables draw on images from everyday Jewish rural life, vineyards, shepherds, wedding feasts, and mustard seeds. He prayed the psalms of his ancestors and debated in the synagogue like any rabbi of his time.

To imagine Jesus without these cultural practices is to imagine a different person altogether. He was not a disembodied prophet floating above history; he was a Jew of first-century Palestine. His Gospel is inseparable from that heritage.

The Asian Paradox

This intertwining of religion and culture makes Asia’s situation especially poignant. Catholic and Protestant communities across Malaysia, India, and Indonesia celebrate harvest festivals such as Ponggol or Gawai, because thanksgiving for food and land fits naturally with biblical themes. Christians of Indian origin do not celebrate Diwali, Navarathiri, or Vesak celebrations, as these are tied directly to Hindu or Buddhist ritual worship.

For Muslims, the lines are equally fraught. Certain cultural practices, traditional dances, communal feasts, and seasonal festivals may appear harmless. But when tied to ritual elements of an earlier faith, they become suspect. The question is not whether Muslims can eat rice at a harvest celebration; of course, they can, but whether joining in the accompanying rituals crosses into religious compromise.

Ordinary believers are caught in the middle. For them, culture is not an abstract category; it is family, food, song, dance, and the cycle of seasons. Religion, meanwhile, is faith, prayer, and a moral compass. The two often overlap in messy ways.

Vatican II’s Wisdom on Culture

The Catholic Church grappled with this tension during the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965). In Gaudium et Spes, the Council fathers wrote: “Man comes to a true and full humanity only through culture.” Religion without culture, then, risks becoming sterile. The Council further affirmed that the Church does not abolish cultures but “purifies, strengthens, and elevates them.”

Another Vatican II document, Ad Gentes, reminded missionaries that God has sown “seeds of the Word” in every culture. The role of the Church is not to erase these seeds but to nurture them until they flower in Christ. Pope John Paul II, echoing this vision, famously said: “A faith that does not become culture is not fully accepted, not thoroughly lived, not faithfully experienced.”

These insights are critical for Asia, where Christians and Muslims are minorities or majorities within deeply plural societies. To live one’s faith authentically here means engaging culture with discernment, neither swallowing it whole nor rejecting it outright.

Harmony, not Hostility

If Jesus could embrace his Jewish festivals, why should Asian Christians fear harvest rituals that celebrate God’s bounty? If Islam upholds peace and mutual respect, how can cultural festivals not be guided toward harmony rather than outright bans?

The task is not easy. Boundaries must be drawn: worship of other gods is not compatible with monotheistic faith, and superstitious practices can mislead. Yet culture itself, food, music, dance, poetry, celebrations of life and land, is not the enemy. It is the language through which people encounter the divine.

When culture and religion clash, the wiser path is not to declare war, but to engage in dialogue. Educate communities about what is permissible, clarify what crosses the line, and celebrate together what can be shared. Suppression alone rarely works; it breeds resentment and confusion.

The Asian Future of Faith

Asia’s future will be defined by how its faith communities negotiate this delicate balance. The graveyards of Qingming, the rice barns of Gawai, the fasts of Ramadan, the hymns of Easter, all these together shape the spiritual imagination of millions.

To separate faith from culture is to create a religion without colour, a tree without roots. To confuse culture with worship is to risk idolatry. The challenge is to walk the narrow road where religion is enriched by culture, and culture purified by faith.

Jesus walked that road as a Jew who fulfilled his tradition while opening it to the nations. Vatican II urged the Church to do the same. For Asia, the lesson is clear: culture and religion are not enemies. Properly understood, they are companions in humanity’s search for God.

And perhaps this is the deeper truth: faith that forgets its cultural roots becomes brittle, while culture that forgets its spiritual soul becomes empty. Asia, with its ancient festivals and living faiths, has the chance to show the world that when culture and religion walk together, humanity does not lose its way; it finds its home.

(Joseph Masilamany is a veteran Malaysian journalist and freelance writer with extensive experience in Catholic media. He contributes regularly to leading Catholic news agencies and platforms.)