
By Joseph Masilamany
Every year, the seventh lunar month casts a different mood over Chinese communities in mainland China and the diaspora across Malaysia, Singapore, all of Southeast Asia, and beyond.
Streets fill with the smoke of joss sticks, families prepare food offerings, and operas are staged in open fields for unseen audiences. This is the Hungry Ghost Festival — a time to honor ancestors and appease wandering spirits who, according to tradition, roam the earth in search of sustenance and recognition.
This year, the festival commenced on Aug 24 and culminated recently on Sep 6, when the full moon ascended in the seventh month of the Chinese calendar. While the Hungary Ghost Festival is rooted in Taoist and Buddhist customs, its resonance goes far beyond any single faith.
For Chinese Christians, the festival opens a window into profound questions: How do we remember the dead? How do we honor the bonds that stretch beyond the grave? And what does our own tradition teach us about those who came before us?
At its heart, the Hungry Ghost Festival is about remembering. Families believe that ancestors, and sometimes restless souls without descendants, need offerings to ease their suffering. Food, incense, and paper replicas of daily necessities are burned so that the dead may not be forgotten.
Seen with Christian eyes, this instinct is not foreign. The Bible is full of calls to remember — Israel was told never to forget the God of their fathers, and Christians recall the sacrifice of Christ in every Eucharist. The human desire to keep bonds alive, even with those who have died, is not superstition; it is an echo of love that refuses to be silenced by death.
All Souls’ Day
This is where theology and culture often meet. Ancestor veneration is central in Chinese tradition, not because the dead are worshipped, but because they are remembered as part of the family’s ongoing life.
Christianity shares this instinct but channels it differently. On All Souls’ Day (Nov 2), Catholics worldwide gather to pray for the faithful departed. Families may visit cemeteries, light candles, and offer Mass for the souls of loved ones.
The difference lies not in love for the departed, but in the means of expression. The Hungry Ghost Festival uses food, incense, and paper offerings; Christianity places its trust in prayer, the Eucharist, and Christ’s saving work. Both reflect the truth that relationships do not end with death — love continues across the veil of time.
There is even a story told of a European who once mocked a Chinese man placing food on his ancestor’s grave. With a sneer, he asked, “How sure are you that your ancestors will come to eat this food?” The Chinese man calmly replied, “As sure as your ancestors come forth to smell the flowers you lay upon their graves.” The exchange is simple, almost humorous, yet it reveals a profound truth: every culture has its own way of expressing remembrance.
What matters is not the method, but the love that endures beyond death.
For Catholics, this belief is anchored in the Creed itself: “I believe in the Communion of Saints.” The Church is not only those alive on earth — it embraces the saints in heaven and the faithful departed who are still being purified. In Christ, there is no broken line between the living and the dead.
What others try to express through food and offerings, Catholics live out through prayer, Mass, and the assurance that love in Christ binds every generation together.
Christian view of the afterlife
The Hungry Ghost Festival also speaks of souls who wander, restless and hungry. Christian theology does not imagine such ghosts, but it does acknowledge the mystery of souls in need of prayer. Catholic teaching on purgatory reflects this: not a place of punishment, but of purification, where the soul longs for the fullness of God.
Here, too, we see a parallel. The festival dramatizes the human fear of neglect — of souls left without care. Christianity responds with confidence in God’s mercy and the call to intercede for those who have gone before us. Both traditions, in their own ways, affirm that death does not sever the duty of love.
For Christians, the Hungry Ghost Festival also carries lessons. It challenges us to take remembrance seriously. Do we pray for our dead with the same devotion that others show in their rituals? Do we pass on family stories of faith and sacrifice? Do we live with a sense of eternity, aware that life is more than what we see?
The festival also reminds us of the importance of compassion. Its central theme is care for the forgotten dead, those who have no one to remember them. Christianity echoes this in its prayers for “all the faithful departed,” including souls who may be forgotten on earth but never in the eyes of God. In this way, the festival opens a window for Christians to deepen their own practice of charity and prayer.
When Christians see their neighbors burning incense or laying out food for ancestors, they need not respond with judgment or ridicule. Instead, they can recognise the shared human longing beneath the practice: a desire to honor, to remember, and to love beyond death. The language is different — one uses fire and food, the other prayer and liturgy – but the song is the same.
The Hungry Ghost Festival, viewed through Christian theology, becomes not a clash of beliefs but a dialogue of love. It reminds us that faith does not erase culture, nor does culture cancel faith. Both can coexist in a way that enriches understanding and deepens respect.
In the end, the festival and the faith point to the same horizon: that life is more than dust and ashes, and that love, whether expressed through food, flowers, or prayer, is stronger than the grave. – UCA News
*The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.













































