Community Essay : Bedeviled by Halloween : A Christian mother who objects to the holiday’s ghoulish ties wonders if she is right to impose her beliefs on a daughter.
On the heels of fall it comes, like a gusty Santa Ana.
Indicators of its arrival litter store aisles like leaves in the street: Jack-o’-lanterns, witches, black cats, skeletons. Cobwebs suspend from ceilings; ghosts peer out from candy-laden displays; monsters dangle on racks alongside Princess Jasmine costumes.
Halloween, a day mingled with harmless reverie and diabolical ritual, is here again.
Ever since I became a parent I have struggled with this holiday. On a superficial level, I wonder why I feel obligated to purchase a cache of candy that I never buy during the rest of the year and give those sweets away to anyone who rings the doorbell.
Beyond the superficial, though, I wonder why I should acquiesce to traditions of a holiday that have nothing to do with my religious faith, traditions which can be traced to Druid priests whose superstitious fears drove them to don grotesque costumes and offer sacrifices to the dead.
The early Christian church attempted to sanitize these pagan rites by moving “All Saints’ Day” from spring to fall and designating it “All Hallow’s Eve.” Halloween, the day of tricks, treats, and other childish fancies, is all that remains of that ancient Druid ritual, and today most people recognize it as such.
For me, though, the veil masking the reality of Halloween is flimsy. With little effort I can remove that veil and see Halloween for what it is: a holiday steeped in sorcery and the occult. So as a Christian parent, I struggle. Do I conform to the generally accepted image of Halloween or do I dissent, a maverick?
When my oldest child was small, dissent was uncomplicated: Darken the house, leave a sign on the porch, ignore the doorbell.
It wasn’t until my daughter entered school that the struggle became more complicated. Her school had Halloween parties. Her friends dressed up. It did no good to explain to her, “Christians don’t celebrate Halloween” because even some of her Christian friends went trick-or-treating. How could I explain to her that sometimes Christians disagree about certain issues, that occasionally we have to make decisions about our behavior based on personal conviction, not on conformity to what others do?
Halloween nears, so once again I struggle. Not because my conviction has changed; it hasn’t. Indeed, it became more resolute last year after friends awoke the morning after Halloween and discovered their pet chickens disemboweled on their back porch--victims, it would appear, of a midnight ritual performed in stealth by unknown celebrants.
No, my struggle is more subjective. I feel a momentary weakening in resolve as I watch my daughter admire a neighbor’s costume or bravely shrug and answer “nothing” when asked for the 19th time, “What are you going to be for Halloween?” Is it wrong, I muse, to impose my beliefs on a child who is perhaps incapable of comprehending? Should my convictions cause her to suffer?
Perhaps I should just go along with the innocuous aspects of the holiday and ignore the spiritual.
It is a struggle I would rather not have to face. If I had the power to enact legislation, I would eliminate Halloween from the calendar. At best, I find it a useless waste of time and money; at worst, a dangerous foray into an uncertain spiritual realm.
Unfortunately, Halloween is here to stay and with it, my annual scrutiny. Each year I conclude anew that what the majority does need not influence my lifestyle, nor that of my children. For now, I am grateful our church offers alternative festivities compatible with our faith. I’m grateful for the few people I know who share our convictions and strive to instill them in their children.
Mostly I’m grateful that, though Halloween arrives faithfully on the heels of fall, it just as faithfully departs.
And on its heels, like a pleasant breeze, comes Thanksgiving.