Why it's OK (And Maybe Even Useful) For Christians to Enjoy Halloween

Though hordes of devils fill the land,
All threat'ning to devour us,
We tremble not, unmoved we stand,
they cannot overpow'r us.
-M. Luther


So, historical luck would have it that we Lutherans celebrate Reformation Day on the anniversary of Martin Luther's posting 95 Theses on the door of Wittenberg Castle Church, which was relevant to him as the eve of All Saints' Day: October 31st. Yeah, that October 31st.

Those of you who remember your history recognize "All Hallows Eve" as "Halloween" in the old English, and would be aware of the bizarre history of the Christian church co-opting a significant pagan festival for its own purposes. So this puts Lutherans in kind of a tough spot, because we want to talk about the ever-reforming church, and grace, and faith, and God's word forever abiding and might fortresses and all, when our surrounding culture wants to talk about ghosts and zombies and stuff. I actually remember trick-or-treating at a Lutheran seminary on Halloween and receiving a Small Catechism from a very earnest seminarian. I was not impressed.

If I were calling the shots, I'd maybe move Reformation Sunday to the summer...maybe June 25th to celebrate the Augsburg Confession (Thereby also not making it all about just Luther?). I say this because I think Lutheran Christians might have something useful to say about Halloween, other than "No, no, bad, bad, evil, evil!"

So before the serious stuff, I thought I'd dust off some Biblical oddities that I always thought would have made great episodes of X-Files... DISCLAIMER: JUST FOR FUN. So below are some links. Just in case you were ever wondering, here are some possible references to...

Aliens in the Bible? Yes, it's a stretch...and a Bible scholar could certainly spoil all your fun and talk about the significance of each one of these images to someone 2,500 years ago, but...a great cloud descending? Amber light? Creatures with 4 faces each? Sounds kind of UFO'y to me... :-)

Vampires in the Bible? So what's with all this preoccupation about drinking blood? Why outlaw it unless people were...like...doing it? OK, Bible scholars, there's the issue of ritual purity, not to mention major public health concerns, so this is once again easily explained away...OR IS IT?*

*yes, pretty much.

Witches and Wizards in the Bible? Well OK, now we're getting somewhere. There are actually a TON of references to wizards, witches, mediums and sorcery in the Bible, and none of them positive. If you were ever wondering about the whole fundamentalist Christian opposition to Harry Potter, there it is in a nutshell. The ancient world was apparently full of people who (it was thought) actually practiced magic and used it in negative ways. The big issue, though, was that unlike Harry Potter, these folks were NOT PRETEND. They were real, and they were into the tribal religion of the areas where the Israelites had settled, which posed a threat to the people's faith in God, and to power that was meant to be reserved only for God. Now, it was a much more violent time, but we can not gloss over the fact that these texts led to some gruesome and abominable violence against innocent people, both in the ancient world, and up to only a couple centuries ago. This is not OK and it does not do God any favors. But anyway, there it is. And just as we don't stone people for eating shellfish anymore, we probably should let this one go.

Ghosts in the Bible? OK, this one is kind of cool, but also very weird. Background: God has rejected Saul as King of Israel and promised the throne to David, which kind of makes Saul go crazy and undergo this whole "Anakin-to Darth-Vader" style transformation and ultimately...drumroll please...put on a Halloween costume and go see a medium. Not winning any points with God on this one, right? He wants to talk to the prophet Samuel about an upcoming battle, and sure enough, the medium conjures up his ghost, who basically tells Saul, "Dude, let me sleep! What part of 'you're not king anymore!' don't you understand?" Very interesting, a little freaky, but pretty much unique in either Testament. no more ghosts.


So, fun, games and wild speculation aside, I think we as Christians can, in fact, have a faithful conversation about Halloween as it's celebrated these days. My talking points:

1)Most of it is PRETEND. Christians do not actually believe in this stuff, any more than secular folks do. Paul lays out for the Corinthian church pretty clearly the conclusion Jewish tradition had reached by this time: OTHER GODS AREN'T REAL. That's not to say there's no such thing as evil, or darkness, or forces and entities we can't explain (more on that below). It's just to say that in the final analysis, most of what we tend to get all worked up about is pretty much bunk, or hokum, or malarkey, or [insert your favorite old-timey word here]. So your kid likes to read fictional books about a fictional character who goes to a fictional school to learn fictional magic? Okay...and the big deal is? Are we equally worked up about fictional Luke Skywalker learning about "the Force?" You know I heard somewhere that Wookiees are not actually real. Go figure. Done right, Halloween can actually teach kids the value of imagination, as distinct from the real world, and help them deal with real stuff that is, in fact, scary, through play.

2)What little of it is NOT pretend, is DEFEATED. Back to Paul again. This time to the Ephesians:

"For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."

So, the Bible is clear that evil is real, and it's more than the sum of its parts. Whether you want to call it Satan, demonic forces, or just the capacity for the darkness of the human psyche to get completely out of control, it's out there, and it's stronger than we are. BUT [cue trumpets] it's not stronger than God. Not by a landslide. The New testament is full of demons and unclean spirits and exorcisms. They come up against Jesus, anime-style, shouting and screaming, but it's no contest. They know who he is. They believe (even more than Jesus' disciples in fact) he is who he says he is. And (forgive the expression) they run like hell. That, or they get the heavenly beat-down, and then run. This ain't no Clark Kent messiah we're following. This is the Son of Man. The Alpha and Omega. Sin, Death and the Devil, you better recognize.

All this is to say, we need to talk with kids about evil. And maybe Halloween might be a good time. But they also need to know about the sign of the cross on their forehead, made at their baptism, which is a sealed deal for all time. There's no evil in all creation that can remove it. Christ is with you, and the Devil can't do nothing about that.

3) A favorite quote from Luther:
“I often laugh at Satan, and there is nothing that makes him so angry as when I attack him to his face, and tell him that through God I am more than a match for him.”

That sums it up. Every Sunday we believers do a big, fabulous, over the top, end-zone victory dance right in evil's face, not because of any good deed or anything within us, but because by the cross death is defeated. So we can laugh. We can joke. We can even have some fun at death's expense. And what better time than All Hallow's Eve?

So this is the long way around to saying: Why not dress up? Why not encourage kids to be creative, and use their imaginations? I'm personally not down with the guts and gore, nor the pitch forks and red suits, and I'm certainly not down with society seeking out yet another chance to objectify women through costumes. That kind of stuff will not be taking place at my house. But fun will be had...oh yes...much fun...

Fuzzy Reception

Now to one who works, wages are not reckoned as a gift but as something due. But to one who without works trusts him who justifies the ungodly, such faith is reckoned as righteousness. Romans 4:4-5

Sometimes we get fuzzy reception at church. Or more precisely, we get fuzzy about the concept "receiving": namely, that we need to do it.

Lutherans, ironically, can get so uptight about preaching justification as a free gift of God's grace--the idea that we can't "get right" with God, but only God's grace can "make" us right--that sometimes even our frenzy of focusing on God's grace can itself become a good work. I've chuckled before at the statement, "just preach the damn gospel!", but not just because I resonate with the frustration it expresses in an era of "self-help" sermons: also because saying "just preach the damn gospel!" is a law statement, meaning it commands a human action rather than announcing God's.

But as uptight as we can get about preaching grace, the grace does not necessarily find its way into our daily lives, especially our lives of faith. How many people do you know who have a "thing" at church: a particular way of serving, that they've probably done for years or decades, that they just wouldn't feel quite right not doing? I, and pretty much every clergy person, can relate to that. That's how we got here, after all. I love to lead worship. I love to share good news, especially when it's God's. I'm not exactly sure what I'd do on Sunday mornings if not that.

And see, that's kind of the point I'm making. My piety--the way I practice my faith--is all about doing. It's about serving. It's about making stuff happen. It's about "asking not what my church can do for me, but what I can do for my church." In short, when this kind of piety runs amok, it's all about me. The gift becomes something I am giving to God, rather than what I'm receiving from God.

Mind you: OF COURSE, doing stuff is good. If you want to vent to me about how volunteerism seems to be dying, I'll listen, and I'll happily vent some myself. Just yesterday, I was doing the CROP walk. I was pushing my son's stroller through the streets of Catonsville in the truly incomprehensible 90-degree weather of an October Sunday in Maryland, when my phone rang. And who was it, but the good old Red Cross, asking me to donate blood. Has it been six weeks already? I politely said it was not a good time, but that I would get online to find a time to donate real soon. And I probably will. But as I wiped the sweat off my forehead, I thought, "You know, if a few more people my age took the time away from 'Breaking Bad' to do something for somebody else, I'd feel an awful lot less guilty about taking a nap right about now, and it probably wouldn't even be interrupted by the Red Cross." That's where my head went, and I'm not happy about that. Because when I think like that, my faith becomes about me.

Christians for whom Communion is a regular thing, let me ask you something: do you "take" Communion, or do you "receive" it? Not to quibble about words, but there's a difference. To "take" Communion is to walk right down that aisle, and grab your salvation with your own five fingers. To stick your paws right up there and snatch that bread and wine, and make that grace thing happen. Or...do you receive Communion? Do you walk down that aisle hardly able to believe the good fortune that the Holy Spirit has breathed life into you, and given you trust enough to show up, even if your every question is not resolved? Do you hold your hands out like a beggar's, bewildered that such a treasure could fall into them even once, let alone once a year, or for goodness' sake, once a week! Do you "receive" in the sense of a passive verb: in which God is truly understood as the active "giver"?

I say this next bit understanding that there are legitimate, grace-filled reasons to disagree with me, but here's what I think: I would rather not hear my own name spoken by the one who's giving me Communion, because heaven forbid that I ever believe "Tim" brought a single, solitary thing into that equation. I bring nothing, and I deserve nothing. At the table, my name is "for you," because it is Christ who gave his body, shed his blood, and rose again. I am simply receiving.

Maybe this doesn't make much sense, because the life of a "giver/worker" versus the life of a "receiver" of God's grace, might not look all that different. Both would likely help an old lady with her groceries, or make a fool of themselves collecting money to fight hunger, or take time out of their schedule to vote or give blood or whatever. But I've seen the paths diverge more as folks grow older.

Most all of us hardworking American types are more comfortable being the "giver/worker", which makes it all the more difficult when we feel we have less to give than we used to. I've sat with folks who are ill, and folks who have spent years or even decades just gradually slowing down, and if those folks are not used to just "receiving," this time of their life can be confusing. I am losing count of the number of people who have wondered aloud why God wants them alive. As if their ability to set up chairs or cook for potlucks or write notes is what merits their walking this earth and breathing this air. I have a feeling that Jesus would strongly disagree with such an assessment.

I've done some reading about the Jewish concept of Sabbath, and I think that if you do it right, it's just about the most grace-filled thing you can imagine. It's a time of laying low, and remembering that our running and doing and serving never did keep this world turning around. God does that just fine without us. And so we sit, and listen, and receive: we connect ourselves back to our infancy, when that was all we could do, and forward to our final days, and our death, when that will again be the case. And I haven't been through it, obviously, but I think that some practice will make those days easier.

So my suggestion (and I want to figure out how to follow it myself) is that every person of faith take a Friday, Saturday or Sunday (depending on your tradition) now and then, and make it your job to "receive." to work on not working. To serve by giving others a chance to serve. Let God be God. God will do it one way or another, but this time, maybe we'll notice.