Halloween. I鈥檝e tiptoed around the unholy holiday for years, decades even; some years just choosing to be away from home on October 31st; some hiding in the basement, and others, joining in with what everyone else was doing. Trying to find the fun in it; trying to ignore the very real evil I鈥檝e learned 鈥� from frighteningly accurate sources 鈥� still occurs (and grows yearly) on Halloween. I reasoned that as a Christian, Halloween brought connection with people I wouldn鈥檛 ordinarily connect with. My participation showed that Christians could have good fun and offer good treats. We could even, were we so inclined, add an invitation to Sunday School or a Christian CD to the treats we handed out.
But, no. Just no. The Halloween jig, for this particular Christian, is up. I鈥檝e been freshly convinced by my reading of Holy Scripture. Over and over, the Bible expressly forbids God鈥檚 people to flirt with the Enemy. When they did, the long-term consequences of mixing alliances always, always, proved fatal. On the positive side, scripture tells us when we resist Satan, he flees; but when we draw close to God, God draws near to us.
I鈥檝e had to ask myself: Could there ever be a good enough reason to disobey God? Somehow I don鈥檛 think, 鈥淏ut those little devils (and decorations) are so cute,鈥� will go the distance in God鈥檚 eyes. Besides, I鈥檝e realized, there are three hundred and sixty-four other days on the calendar, and countless other ways to share Jesus鈥� love.
In all the years I tried to 鈥渇it in鈥� with the safe 鈥淐hristian way鈥� of 鈥渄oing Halloween鈥� (so as not to appear odd or legalistic or simply uncharitable, I can鈥檛 think of one person 鈥� not a single one 鈥� who loves Jesus more, reads the Bible more, loves others more, is more just and merciful, because I participated. Or, for that matter, because our church offered 鈥淗allelujah (or similar) parties鈥� as a stand-in for Halloween bashes.
I鈥檓 far from perfect in my faith-walk, especially in loving others like Jesus, but the children in my life know I鈥檓 pretty fond of them, even if I don鈥檛 pass out treats on October 31st. The grandbeans, of course, but also the kids who wander into our yard to see Cash (the dog), or knock on the door to ask if they can come in and see the 鈥渄ead owl鈥� (Ford 鈥� our stuffed Great Horned road kill), or talk to Ernie, our parrot or pet GraceCat.
Those children, smart and beautiful, amaze and amuse and inspire me. I miss the nearby ones during the long white season when everyone hibernates. And if, in years to come, they recall our conversations (at the door or on the rocking swing, or on the road as they encounter me walking Cash) at all, perhaps that will matter for eternity. And if I ever told them God loved them too, and reflected that to them, and they remember? Well, that鈥檚 not a trick. It鈥檚 truth. And a royal treat.
