Hollowed Out Halloween

Here we are at Halloween, that strange day that drives Evangelicals crazy, that day that seems such a patchwork of spiritual traditions, including Wiccan and other Pagan traditions. Here we are headed towards one of the spiritually thin times/places, that space where our world and other worlds might collide.

I confess that I have misgivings about Halloween, but they're not the ones you might expect from someone who regularly writes about theological issues and the life of both the Church and my own church.

Halloween has never been that time for me. I've felt assaulted by noise and crime and adults acting foolishly and children rudely demanding candy--but never have I felt glimmers of the otherworld.

I think about all the money we spend on candy and costumes and decorations--although I'm not seeing as many decorations this year. Yes, I'm that person who thinks about all the ways that our Halloween spending robs the poor--both in money that we don't give to charity and in the ways that we set the bar so high for lower income people who can't compete on that level.

This year, to be honest, I haven't given much thought to any of these issues at all.  Unlike other years, Halloween has kind of crept up on me.  We have had record breaking heat, so it's hard for me to even process that we are at the end of October.  It still feels like August outside--82 degrees before sunrise and humid.  Ugh.

We will probably have a fairly quiet Halloween evening at home.  We are not expecting many trick or treaters. We've never had many trick or treaters, but that's O.K. with me. 

Despite our expected lack of trick or treaters, we've now eaten our way through not 1, but 2 (2!!!) bags of candy. My spouse bought them, and he ate most of them. The first bag was not a surprise, as they were fruity kinds of things--Skittles and various chewy things like Starburst. The second bag was Twix and Baby Ruths and not the kind of candy either of us would usually choose. My spouse frequently expresses his disdain for chocolate, yet he ate much of that second bag.

It's Halloween morning, as I write. We could still have a more intentional Halloween. We could spend a few moments in meditation as we light our Jack-o-Lantern candles. We could think about the gloom that we want to chase away. We could think about the light that we want to shine into the world. As we give out candy, we could say a silent prayer for each recipient: "May your days be sweet and your life be sweeter."