As Chen Mengyao steps onto the timeworn stone floor of a centuries-old Buddhist temple in Shanghai, she instantly feels a sense of serenity. Yet, her visit today has little to do with religious devotion.

Amid the rush of a fast-paced city, temples offer this 30-year-old marketing professional — and many others like her — something rare: a pause.

However, this ancient sanctuary has not been frozen in time. Just outside the main hall, among the weathered stone and intricate carvings, is a bustling scene of modern commerce. Long lines stretch from its vegetarian restaurant, while the gift shop overflows with visitors eager to snap up accessories, from prayer pouches to handmade bracelets.

Unable to resist picking out a few souvenirs, Chen often ends her visits by spending up to 200 yuan ($28) on trinkets, and that’s on top of her usual incense offerings.

Across China, temples are quietly transforming into destinations for lifestyle consumption. Brand crossovers, cafés, vegetarian cuisine, and even venture capital activities now form what some call the “temple economy.” This blending of spirituality and commerce is reshaping not only the temple-goers’ experience but also the role these institutions play in society.

As young Chinese people increasingly turn to mysticism in the hope of finding fortune and inner peace, sacred destinations — from Buddhist temples to Taoist shrines — have witnessed a significant revival in interest and footfall.

This trend is not just fueled by spirituality — it’s increasingly commercial, particularly in the context of tourism. China’s temple economy was worth 80 billion to 90 billion yuan in 2023, with the market size expected to surpass 100 billion yuan by the end of this year at an average annual compound growth rate of more than 10%, according to consulting agency Meritco Group.

Diversified revenue structures have helped push the annual earnings of major temples and religious sites — such as Mount Emei in the southwestern Sichuan province, Mount Jiuhua in the eastern Anhui province, and Lingyin Temple in the eastern Zhejiang province — into the hundreds of millions of yuan.

Incomes are primarily from admission fees, incense offerings, cultural and creative products, religious ceremonies, and food and accommodation services. New channels like digital donations and e-commerce sales have also seen rapid growth, expanding the industry’s reach and profitability.

In addition, the cultural magnetism of prominent temples often serves as an anchor for the economic development of surrounding areas, much like how a tourist attraction can uplift an entire neighborhood’s economy by driving online and offline traffic.

Shanghai’s Longhua Temple, for example, is surrounded by commercial complexes seeking to capitalize on its cultural prominence. Just across the street is Longhua Hui, a 100,000-square-meter development that echoes the temple’s architectural style and atmosphere, offering a mix of shopping, dining, and leisure experiences infused with a spiritual vibe.

Yet, as temples become increasingly entangled with consumer culture, some have taken to social media to raise concerns about over-commercialization. Debates largely center on whether the trend marks a cultural revitalization or a commodification of Chinese tradition.

Keeping pace

Wang Donghui, a Buddhist with a background in commercial real estate, has been studying under a master at Hualin Lecture Temple on Zhejiang’s Xuedou Mountain for three years and now helps manage temple affairs.

Alongside other disciples with business experience, he has become involved in the reconstruction and commercial planning of multiple temples.

“The goal of modern temples is to strike a balance between generating sustainable revenue through legal and culturally sensitive models, while preserving the core spiritual mission and expanding their cultural and social influence,” Wang said.

Solutions include selling religious-themed products, offering spaces to store the ashes of deceased individuals or pets, and providing elderly care and spiritual retreat programs for young people seeking reflection and healing.

Wang believes that the current wave of consumer engagement doesn’t necessarily reflect a return to formal religious tradition. Instead, many young people are drawn to what he calls “light-touch spirituality” — seeking peace, symbolism, and a calming atmosphere rather than doctrinal teachings.

“They want the mood and the meaning, but if it becomes too preachy or rigid, they’ll tune out,” he said. From interactive exhibits about Buddhist figures to cafés serving “karma-inspired” lattes, “these customers need to connect with Buddhism in ways they can understand.”

As a result, smart digitization has been a major component in the transformation of these temples, such as in the form of divination tools powered by artificial intelligence, virtual-reality temple experiences, and digital avatars.

Defining commercialization

As Chinese temples increasingly embrace common business practices, critics have warned of the erosion of the spiritual core, suggesting that commercialization risks diminishing the cultural and religious significance of sacred spaces.

However, this union of commerce and faith is not a modern trend. Research by the late French sinologist Jacques Gernet shows that the commercialization of religious sites in China — particularly Buddhist temples — started as early as the late sixth century. During this period, large monasteries would lease out their water mills to local residents for flour production, which became a key source of income.

“It is nearly impossible to draw a clear line between the two,” said Yang Lanfu, a Ph.D. student at the University of Iowa, in the United States, who is researching modern and contemporary Chinese religiosity. “Most of the merchandise and services popular in temples today — such as protection and lucky charms, consecrated jewelry, and rituals for various purposes — are nothing new.”

Local governments are also supporting the growth of commercial activity in temples, helping build basic infrastructure, such as roads and power lines to those in remote areas, and offering discounted land prices for expansion and fresh construction.

Since the 1990s, authorities have leveraged temple resources for economic development, while these sites have also started charging admission fees, just like other scenic spots.

Yang attributes the accelerated commercialization in recent years to changes in the structure of the temple economy. Historically, Buddhist temples relied on wealthy donors to cover the costs of their daily operations. But with the societal changes that came between the late Qing Dynasty (1644–1911) and the beginning of China’s “reform and opening-up” in the late 1970s, that traditional economic model came under pressure, forcing temples to seek other methods of generating income.

Yet, Yang argues that it’s difficult to define what is over-commercialization. One example is the merit box, a religious device used at many temples in which donors place cash in the hope of receiving good karma.

“This device attracts income for the temple, and it fulfills the worshipper’s desire to do a good deed and earn karma,” he said. “Should merit boxes be considered a normal religious activity or a form of commercialization?”

Despite a reluctance to define “normal” religious activity, Yang believes the bottom line should be ensuring equitable access for all. “If I had to define over-commercialization,” he added, “it would be any artificial financial barrier that prevents people from exercising their right to participate in lawful religious activities.”

Recognizing the role temples play as economic drivers, the central government has been stepping up regulations on commercial activities at Buddhist temples to promote transparency and prevent corruption. A state guideline issued in 2017 banned profit-driven operations in temples while strengthening financial oversight.

It states that Buddhist and Taoist organizations must adhere to national standards for finance, taxation, asset management, and accounting, and are required to open official bank settlement accounts, and accurately report their incomes and expenditures.

Chen in Shanghai doesn’t see the temples’ shift toward commercial tourism as inherently negative. She mentioned that some even engage in behind-the-scenes investment and financing activities, such as Shanghai’s Jade Buddha Temple, which was an angel investor in the online takeout delivery platform Ele.me, later acquired by technology giant Alibaba. Chen defined this as a kind of exchange.

“Temples today are part of the material world, too,” she said. “Maybe they’re feeding back into society in a new way, from spiritual support to financial reinvestment.”

Additional reporting: Yang Xinrui; editor: Hao Qibao.

(Header image: Visitors burn incense at Longhua Temple in Shanghai, Jan. 29, 2025. VCG)