A Liturgy for All Hallows’ Eve
today we celebrate with candy and costume. tonight we vigil with cross and candle. we wisely recognize that there is evil in this world and we wisely remember that our Creator God has overcome it. we set a place at the table for our ghosts our ancestors our beloved lost the martyrs and our griefs, both public and private. we recognize them, we let them in, we sit them down, we hold them for a while, and then we let them go to be healed. tonight we drive away the darkness with remembering that there is truly nothing to fear.
Tomorrow is Hallowe’en. For some, that will mean dressing up in costumes and trooping around the neighborhood, asking for candy. For some, that will mean parties. For others, it will mean staying indoors, watching scary movies, or just listening for the doorbell with a bowl full of sweets at the ready.
There will be some for whom it will be just another day. They, too, are blessed.
Having seen Hallowe’en’s many sides myself, and having spent long years hating it, I know how tricky our feelings can be about it. How do we allow for the spirit of mischief without falling prey to darker forces? How do we contemplate death without letting it take us over, consume our thoughts? How do we balance darkness and light so deftly that we sink deeper into sacred mystery, and not trip into clouded judgment?
These are good questions. Not all of them have clear answers.
I can only tell you what this day will mean to me. It will mean the fragrance of soul cakes and barmbrack filling the air as they bake. It will mean candles flickering in the windows and the table set for the living and the dead. It will include saying goodbye to the apple tree and leaving the remaining fruit for glowing eyes and tiny paws in the autumn dark. There may be photos of dear ones passed on, and prayers of gratitude said for them.
And when it is over, and the darkness of the season falls upon us like a curtain, the flickering light of the candle in the window will prefigure the light of Advent, not far away now. The Light that is unquenchable. The Light of an eternal morning, as yet far but drawing nearer.
Whatever your feelings are about Hallowe’en (and believe me, I know that feelings can be complicated), my prayer is that you would see that Light in unexpected places, this week, and that it would fill you with a hope that death and darkness can never overcome.
No discussion question, this week.
Instead, please take this seasonal benediction once more, and may it bless your Hallowtide devotions:
May a place at the table be set
for an earnest conversation with our ghosts.
May the glow of the lights in the autumn darkness
guide us closer to the grace-filled heart of our God.
May the colors of the season remind us
how multi-hued is the love of our Savior.
May the Creator-God bless us and keep us
on this vigil of haws, hallows, harvest, and holiness.
Thank you for reading!
Moved by this piece (or simply feel like supporting my coffee habit) and want to contribute a one-time donation? Click the Tip Jar button below!
For more writings like this, subscribe for free!
I appreciate this; I grew up in a denomination that didn't participate at all, so I definitely understand complicated feelings. I'm trying to come to appreciate and having a more balanced look at it. Your post was wonderful that way.
This is so beautiful and encapsulates such intricate notes of fall. I am excited to participate in advent for the first time this year. But, I am trying to appreciate the slowness as that time comes.