Temples and churches in Shanghai: how to visit, and what to mind

Shanghai has Buddhist temples, one famous Daoist temple, a Confucian temple, Catholic and Protestant churches, a mosque and a synagogue, and all are in use: people come to offer incense, bow, chant and attend services. Said first, because it settles everything after it. You are a guest where someone is worshipping today.

These are places of worship

Most are at once heritage buildings and registered religious sites, and the two constrain each other: no visitor route, no labels, some halls closed; people bowing, reciting, sitting in silence, which is why they came today, not an obstruction; whether you may photograph or enter is settled by the notice at the door and the people there.

Opening times, charges, booking, closed days differ and change. Confirm at the door on the day; no figures are given here.

The Buddhist temple, from gate to rear court

The layout follows a pattern, and reading it tells you what you are looking at.

Gate first, three bays with a central doorway; inside, a bell tower and a drum tower flanking the first courtyard, bell left, drum right; then the Hall of the Heavenly Kings, Maitreya facing you, four guardians at the sides, Weituo behind him facing inward; then the Mahavira Hall, the main hall, Shakyamuni within, its censer and cushions the busiest point in the compound. Beyond, by size: dharma hall, sutra library, Guanyin hall, arhat hall, side halls and walkways, and at the rear the monks’ quarters and refectory, closed to visitors.

One axis, courtyard after courtyard, each higher and more private. Worship moves inward, and the commonest visitor mistake is walking against that flow, or stopping in a hall doorway to photograph, where people are trying to pass. The great censer is fed continuously, and donation boxes stand at the sides inside.

Discount the dates: what you see was mostly rebuilt in recent decades on the old plan, in new material, and the oldest thing is often a pagoda or a piece of stonework rather than a hall; the pagoda at Longhua is far older than the halls behind it. Check the dating on site, not from a board.

Daoist and Confucian sites, and where the line blurs

Daoist temples look Buddhist and are used differently: city gods, Lord Guan, Lu Zu, the Three Pure Ones, imagery more worldly, couplets that tell a story. The best known stands beside Yu Garden, the City God Temple, a working Daoist temple but a small one, worshippers and visitors mixed, and what most people experience is the bazaar outside it, as the Yu Garden and old city guide sets out.

The Confucian temple works like a state academy: a semicircular pond and a lattice gate, the Hall of Great Perfection with a tablet rather than a statue, a lecture hall behind. No monks or priests live there, nobody offers incense or draws lots, the rites return only for the Confucius ceremony, and it reads closest to a museum; arrangements there have shifted in recent years, so confirm on the day.

The boundary between a temple and a heritage sight is blurred in Shanghai. Some places sell a ticket, label the courtyards and empty you out through a souvenir shop, a religious site run as an attraction; others post one notice banning photography in the halls and put you back in your place. Whether anyone is worshipping tells you more than whether there is a ticket window.

Churches, mosque and synagogue

Shanghai has a thick layer of church building from the mid-nineteenth to the early twentieth century; Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox congregations all left buildings, several still active with Sunday services.

Cathedral: red brick, Gothic, at Xujiahui west of the centre, twin spires, Latin cross plan, aisles, stained glass, high altar. Go in, sit at the back; during Mass do not walk about or photograph.

Protestant churches: red-brick or grey-brick chapels, lecture-hall interiors, pulpit central, no altar, no images. Freer than a Catholic church, but during a service no coming and going, no photographs.

Pilgrimage: the Marian basilica on Sheshan, in Songjiang outside the city, where local Catholics go, with organised pilgrimages around May, when it is a religious event, not a sight.

Mosque: a prayer hall with ablution area, direction of prayer, carpets, no images. At prayer times, especially Friday, non-Muslims should not enter; look from the courtyard, ask before going further, shoulders and knees covered, shoes off.

Synagogue: one in Hongkou open as a museum, one near Jing’an a historic building; neither is active, so what you read is history and architecture.

The churches are the least visited and most rewarding item here: most itineraries leave them out, so twenty quiet minutes with stained glass is on offer. They do not cater to visitors: no labels, no shop, sometimes very limited opening, or only around services.

Etiquette, and the incense and blessing economy

Rude: photographing people at prayer, especially up close or with flash; talking loudly, taking calls, playing video in a hall; standing in a worshipper’s way; moving about or photographing during Mass or a service; treating the donation box as an entrance fee, when the words on it mean merit, free offering or lamp oil and what goes in is an offering, not admission, so giving is not what lets you in; touching ritual objects, bells, divination lots or scriptures unless invited.

Merely unfamiliar: shoes off, since Buddhist and Daoist halls expect it and a mosque prayer hall always requires it; shoulders and knees covered, no vests, shorts or flip-flops; entering left, leaving right, circling clockwise, or following the person ahead instead of cutting across the cushions; a nod is enough if you are not a believer; no need to learn joined palms or kneel, since nobody asks visitors to perform the rites; most halls open, but not the inner shrine, the monks’ quarters, or anywhere a ceremony is under way.

Incense is sold, and it does something: counters at the gate and inside, priced from very little to a great deal, the prettier the packaging the higher the price. Incense is for burning, and the cheapest bundle and the dearest do the same work.

Blessings happen: a monk may recite over an object, or over you. A religious act, not a trick; the problem is price and salesmanship, where a free offering is welcome until you agree and a figure appears. Before anyone starts, ask whether there is a charge and how much; if you do not want to pay, say no and walk on, which is not rude in any religious setting.

Fortune-telling, face-reading and lot drawing are common at the gates of Daoist temples and some Buddhist ones, stalls in the passage: a service, a negotiable price, walking away allowed, and having a lot read usually costing extra.

One rule: anything whose price is not stated before you agree is not part of religious etiquette.

Tickets, the canteen, how long, and who should come

Tickets: some charge, some are free, some free but booked, some charge only for certain areas. Trust no fixed price or opening time, including these; read the notice at the gate or the site’s own official channel. Carry cash and phone payment, since small offerings and the canteen sometimes take only one.

Canteen: larger Buddhist temples run one in the compound or a side court, open to the public and used by local people too: noodles, rice, a few vegetable dishes, salty and oily, ordinary prices, among the most honest meals in the city and the only way to sit down inside a temple. Daoist temples generally have no public dining hall. On how hard vegetarian food is here, the food and etiquette guide is blunt.

How long: a medium temple, the axis plus two or three halls, forty minutes to an hour; sitting to read the boards and eat noodles, two hours; a large temple with a pagoda, longer. A church is twenty to forty minutes. Two sites in a day is enough.

Who it suits: anyone interested in buildings and ritual for their own sake; anyone wanting a quiet place in the city that is not selling anything; anyone willing to follow the house rules.

Who should skip it: anyone who only wants photographs, most halls banning them; anyone hoping for a mystical or fortune-changing experience; anyone who cannot take incense smoke; any tour route that treats these as free attractions.

Last honest word: for one temple, Longhua: pagoda outside the gate, halls behind it, courtyard by courtyard a complete Chinese Buddhist layout, far from the tourist circuit. For one church, the red-brick cathedral at Xujiahui, not for the Mass but for the glass and the scale. The likeliest disappointment is the City God Temple: biggest name, smallest site, most people staying in the bazaar outside and never going in. The Jing’an Temple review covers another temple whose fame and courtyard do not match.