The Liturgy of All Hallow's Eve
Freedom from the Fear of Death
“See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ.
For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority. In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead.
And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.
He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.” – Col 2:8-15
The goal of spiritual formation is not simply to gain a greater understanding of good and evil, but to be shaped by such knowledge. To put it as concisely as I can, the Spirit (when we are assembled together) writes the law upon our hearts in two ways, through preaching and practice.
Meaning, firstly that our souls are renewed when the good news of God’s kingdom is depicted in vivifying imagery (e.g., in myth, story, and metaphor), as the vision of God’s kingdom is exposited (is revealed) from the text of scripture. And the power of such pictures is in their capacity to connect our immanent world to the being who created it, allowing the enlightened listener not only to gaze upon God’s holiness (as the curtain is drawn back), but to bask in its beauty.
The admiration produced in the divine presence stirs within us a longing to be conformed to its image (2 Corinthians 3:18). Just as experiencing the performance of a great concert cellist can stir within us a desire to take up the instrument. Even a glimpse of the divine perfection provokes in us mimetic desire. A desire to mimic or reflect that image.
It is not just through contemplation that one undergoes such conversion, but also through ceremony. Now, as moderns (and Evangelicals) we often fail to appreciate the potency of liturgy (of rituals, observances, and rites). Our highly rationalistic reverence scoffs at the power of practice as it looks with disdain upon previous generations who found great utility in feast days, recited prayers, and other symbolically rich gestures. Pious procedures which are not, as our Puritan predecessors believed, the vain scheming of a superstitious soul, but rather effectual exercises for turning our hearts toward holy ends.
The truth is, we can’t avoid such practices even if we wanted to. From the way we drink our coffee in the morning, to the routine we carry out as we get ready for bed at night, ritual practices make up much of our day.
So, the question is not whether we will engage in these soul-shaping rituals, rather it is which one’s will we participate in. My great concern (as I have expressed on numerous occasions) is that in our postmodern context we face a crisis in liturgy, where our practices are losing (or have lost) their power to connect us with the sacred story in a way that inoculates us from the contagious influence of competing, secular substitutes.
What we desperately need are theologically robust practices which will orient our affections toward the kingdom of light, rather than the kingdom of darkness. And, because of this, we have been adding liturgies to our corporate worship. Those which are firmly rooted in scripture and Church tradition.
However, one area we have yet to explore concerns the Christian calendar. Many Evangelicals (at least in the Baptistic tradition) have abandoned this rich tradition even though it offers us a way to live in rhythm with the seasons that is distinctly Christian. A path which allows us to use the cycle of God’s creation to inculcate the meta-narrative of scripture into our souls.
Again, we all live by a calendar. The question is which calendar do we live by? Is it one which trains us to be in an essentially consumeristic relationship with creation, or one which emphasizes cultivation? Is it one which directs our attention inward toward subjective experience, or outward toward objective reality.
Of course, there is a lot to say concerning adherence to Christian feast days and celebrations, but for the moment I want to focus upon one particular practice that many of us still hold to, but one which has been deeply secularized in the modern world. That celebration is, no surprise, Halloween.
VICTORY OVER THE FINALITY OF DEATH
Now, there have been many blog posts and magazine articles written which purport to uncover the pagan origins of this holiday, and it’s later adoption by the Church. Commonly the argument is that Halloween comes from the ancient Celtic religion of Druidism and a festival called Samhain (“Sah-win”) which celebrated the harvest at the end of summer. At which attendees would engage in divination, and ancestral worship, as demented teenagers roamed the streets tormenting residents with various forms of trickery, etc.
And yet, even though this account has been widely accepted, under even the slightest amount of academic scrutiny it reveals itself to be pure fantasy. Meaning that the historical evidence for it is virtually non-existent.
Indeed, it seems that the origin of Halloween in Mediterranean Christianity, as Jim Jordan has noted, has absolutely nothing at all to do with Celtic Druidism, or even the Church’s fight against it. In fact, it is very likely the case that this cult never existed in the first place, but rather that it is a myth concocted in the 19th century by neo-pagans.
Unfortunately, however, many Christians have been fooled by this false narrative and, as a result, either abstain from Halloween all together (often choosing instead to attend a fall festival, as if that were any less pagan), or participate in a purely secularized version of the holiday.
Therefore, I wish to present an alternate history and reading of this popular celebration. One which is deeply saturated in Church tradition, and the biblical narrative. The hope is to Re-Christianize the holiday so that it can once again turn our hearts (and the hearts of our children) toward sanctified ends (i.e., put the Christ back in Christmas, put the Hallow back in Halloween).
The word "Halloween" is simply a contraction of the phrase “All Hallows’ Eve”. The word "hallow" meaning "saint," in that "hallow" is just an alternative form of the word "holy" (think of the KJV’s translation of the beginning of Jesus’ model prayer "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name"). So “All Hallows’ Eve” is simply “All Saints’ Eve”, or the day before All Saint’s Day.
All Saints’ Day, on the Christian calendar, is November 1 and it is a holiday (observed by both the Roman Catholic Church and many Protestant denominations) which celebrates the victory of the saints in Christ (both those who are on the earth and those who have gone to be with the Lord). Victory over the finality of death.
Thus, it is a celebration that there is a day coming when the veil that separates this world from the next will be rent, and the Messiah and his army of angels revealed. And when, at the cry of command, the dead in Christ shall rise.
As the perishable is clothed in the imperishable, and the mortal adorned in immortality, and the promise from ancient of days fulfilled as “death is swallowed up in victory.’” And the liberated captives will join (on that day) the host of heaven in mocking death and its prince by singing: “Where is thou victory o death? Where is thou sting?”
In the First Covenant, as Jim Jordan points out in a very provocative article on this subject, the war between God’s people and God’s enemies was fought (primarily) on the human level against nations such as the Egyptians, Assyrians, etc. With the coming of the New Covenant, however, our battle is now primarily against principalities and powers, against fallen angels who bind the hearts and minds of men in ignorance and fear.
Furthermore, under the New Covenant, we are assured that through faith, the saints will be victorious in this battle against these demonic forces. Indeed, the Spirit assures us: "The God of peace will crush Satan under [our] feet shortly" (Romans 16:20).
Therefore, the Festival of All Saints was meant to remind us that though Jesus has finished his work, the Spirit is still carrying out His. Jesus has struck the decisive blow, we might say, but we (through the power of the Spirit) have the privilege of working in “the mopping up operation,” as Jordan puts it.
Thus, century by century the Christian faith is rolling back the demonic realm of corruption, ignorance, fear, oppression, and even superstition. A good version of disenchantment, you might say. Stirring man from his bewitchment to the demonic powers of this world.
We are able to do this because the strong man has been bound by our King therefore, we can now loot his house. Or, as it says in our Colossians 2 text, “[God] has disarmed [KJV ‘spoilt’] the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.” Spoiling the principalities and powers has to do not with turning them into brats, but with the looting of their storehouse, including their power.
This feast day was designed to celebrate this ongoing victory of the saints.
Now, as for the history of the celebration, it is deeply rooted in Church tradition. Again, I rely on Jim Jordan’s scholarship, but also the work of Tim O Neill, and his article on the historicity of Halloween, Is Halloween Pagan? History for Atheists.
RIDICULING THE DEMONIC
In the late 300s there arose various observances remembering and celebrating the victory of the saints which were eventually united and fixed on the date of November 1 in the late 700s (even sooner as recorded in the death of Polycarp, at least concerning the celebration of the martyrs).
In the church calendar, celebrations which are considered “first rank” feast-days begin with a vigil on the eve before the actual holiday. Christmas Eve is the one most familiar to us, but there is also the Vigil of Holy Saturday that precedes Easter morning. And similarly, All Saints’ Eve precedes All Saints’ Day.
The concept (of All Saints’ Eve), as dramatized in Christian custom, is quite simple, acting out the biblical narrative so that we can be shaped by the story, participation in the partial past and a rehearsal for its future fulfillment: On October 31, the demonic realm tries one last time to achieve victory, but is banished by the joy of the Kingdom.
Here is the key to story (and the part that modern Christian sensibilities have a hard time accepting, although our predecessors joyfully embrace it), the means by which the demonic realm is vanquished (on this night) is by mockery.
Satan’s great sin (and our own) is pride. Thus, to drive Satan from us we ridicule him. Because he cannot take it. As David Armstrong has said, “a swollen ego can handle intellectual assaults; what [it] cannot handle is someone making fun of it.”
This is why, by the way, the custom arose of portraying Satan in a ridiculous red suit with horns and a tail. It didn’t come from biblical illiteracy. No one thought that the devil really looked like this, for the Bible teaches that he is the fallen Arch-Angel.
Rather, the idea was to ridicule him because he had lost the battle with Jesus, and therefore no longer had full power over us. His power had been broken. He has been disarmed (Colossians 2) of his greatest weapon, the finality of death.
Or, similarly, the gargoyles that were placed on older churches, served this same purpose. Hideous creatures about which modern Christian’s puzzle as to what possible benefit they could serve (seems incongruous). Over time, we have forgotten their purpose and therefore we no longer use them.
You certainly don’t see gargoyles on the black-box buildings of the mega churches. Of course, you don’t see any ornamentation, for its form is purely about function—that is why they look like convention centers. The space in which you worship matters. It’s not just a reflection of your understanding of what the purpose of worship is, but it also shapes your affections. Compare the church buildings of the past to present day. Something dramatic has changed. The question is, “What?”
The truth is the gargoyles symbolized the Church ridiculing the enemy. The beasts stick out their tongues and make faces at all those spirits who would assault the Church. Thus, Gargoyles are not demonic, they are a way for believers to ridicule the defeated demonic army. To keep them at bay.
The power of such ridicule has been championed by many in church history. Although you wouldn’t know it from what most winsome pastors today have to say about it. Martin Luther, for example, said:
“The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn.”
The great Augustine also advised laughing at the devil. So, this is why on All Hallows’ Eve, the custom arose of mocking the demonic realm by dressing children in costumes.
By dressing them up like ghosts, goblins, and witches, Christians were engaging in a kind of satire, a ridiculing of the demonic in order to thwart its advances. Again, this is within the context of the dramatized theological narrative of the demonic realm trying one last time (on the Eve of All Saints Day) to achieve victory but being banished by the joy of the Kingdom.
The celebration of Christ’s victory, as the saints join in the divine laughter and ridicule of their defeated enemies, as Jesus puts them to open shame as our text in Colossians 2 says.
The giving out of candy, although not part of the original celebration, works to symbolize this victory. To represent the spoils of our triumph in Christ. Our rich inheritance. Which includes all of the souls who are freed from demonic oppression. For they will be the jewels in our crown. The looting of the strong man’s house.
This satirical activity then demonstrates that the fear of death no longer has a grip on us. For through Jesus’ resurrection that power has been broken, for death and Hades could not hold him. Death, and it’s prince no longer have the final word.
For most Evangelicals today, the idea of having a celebration where we mock the devil is abhorrent. Even Doug Wilson, who I don’t think knows the history, recently dismissed Halloween by comparing it to Mardi Gras. The Carnival celebration prior to lent when you could let it all hang out; an officially sanctioned opportunity to get all the sinful desires out of your system, before the season of fasting.
Similarly depraved, Halloween, argues Pastor Wilson, is among the celebrations we should excise from the bloated church calendar. For it is just reveling in the macabre, instead of focusing upon what is pure and lovely as Paul commands.
But, as Justin Shaun Coyle has pointed out, “imitation need not spell flattery.” After all—Alec Baldwin hardly imitates President Trump to honor him [on Saturday Night Live]. And if mockers may imitate, it follows that one way to deal with the devils is to burlesque them.
I mean, what do we think that the Babylon Bee, and all of satire is about, ultimately? It is the mocking of evil in order to strip it of its power over us. To free us from its fear through ridicule and laughter. For the one who can laugh is free of fear. A freedom experienced by Paul and Silas as they rejoiced while in stocks in the inner prison of Philippi.
And yet, many Evangelicals today no doubt blush when they read of Elijah mocking the false prophets on Mt. Carmel asking whether their God Ba al was using the bathroom rather than acting on their behalf. Or, when Jeremiah says that “the actions of those that err are worthy of derision, because of their vanity.” Or, indeed, when God himself says that he will laugh at the wicked when calamity comes upon them, that he will “mock when panic strikes.”
Blaise Pascal, the 17th century philosopher and theologian, argued that “such mockery…far from…being impious…is [actually] the effect of divine wisdom,” and he quotes Augustine as his proof: The wise laugh at the foolish, because they are wise, not after their own wisdom, but after that divine wisdom which shall laugh at the death of the wicked.
Mockery, says Augustine, is a befitting response to the actions of a fool. It is an act of justice. And that is why, as Pascal notes, the prophets, “Accordingly, filled with the Spirit of God, have availed themselves of [it].” A practice which was also “common with the fathers of the Church, and… the best of saints.”
Now, a typical objection to this line of reasoning is to say, “But, scripture also clearly states that God takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked.” Which is true. But, again it also says that he laughs when calamity comes upon them. It’s not an either or, but a both and. We have to hold these two things together.
The problem with Evangelical moral intuitions (at present) is that we have grasped one side of God’s nature, by forsaking the other. We have ignored Paul’s warning to “Behold [both] the severity and kindness of God.”
Contemporary Christians exalt God’s kindness, but in doing so want to dramatically tone-down his severity. This is what has lead (in part) to so much of the moral fecklessness we see among church leaders in the face of our society’s complete ethical collapse. A limp-wristed winsomeness which shows disdain for God’s holiness, as well as fellow Christians who have the audacity to condemn sin in the flesh.
The end result of this is that ridicule and condemnation have become offensive to modern Evangelical sensibilities. But the question is: What is shaping those affections? Is it the text of scripture, or our increasingly sentimental society that has fully embraced the notion of cheap grace?
The question we should be asking is not, what does the penchant for ridiculing evil in past generations say about them, but rather what does our aversion to ridiculing evil say about us?
Why do we wince when someone like James Jordan exhorts us to join in God’s holy laughter, and mock the enemies of Christ on October 31?
Why do we feel the need to quickly silence the Psalter when he exalts in God’s ridiculing of his enemies in Psalm 2?
Why do we deny the sanctity of satire?
What does this say about us?
This is the question we should be asking:
Why are we so different from the saints who have come before us?
In answering this question, I would caution against impugning the character of our predecessors. The men I have mentioned (a small of fraction of those we could discuss) were men of great piety and wisdom. I haven’t studied the history of this theological/moral question sufficiently, but my intuition is that our present approach to it is a fairly recent phenomenon.
Now, in considering whether it is right for humans like us to ridicule fallen angels, perhaps what comes to mind is a particular section in the book of Jude which speaks of Michael (the archangel) who, when contending with the devil for the body of Moses, “did not presume to pronounce a slanderous judgment, but said, ‘The Lord rebuke you.’” From this passage many have concluded that if the archangel refrained from ridiculing the devil, so should we.
Now, the first thing to say in response to this reading is that it must be admitted that this text is very esoteric. For why was Michael contending with the devil for the body of Moses, in the first place, we should ask? And while there is no shortage of speculation on the subject, at the end of the day, we don’t really know. But, even given that difficulty, it seems pretty obvious that the kind of judgment that the archangel refrained from making was an unjust one.
The various translations describe it as a “slanderous” judgment, or a “blasphemous” judgment, or an “abusive” judgment. Indeed, it is the very kind of judgment that the false teachers (whom Jude is writing to address) uttered concerning holy angelic beings. The false teachers spoke slander (or abuse) against them. But, the archangel, even in the most extreme of circumstances, will not even defame the devil, seems to be the point. As Christians then, we should refrain from making abusive, or slanderous judgments about anyone, even the devil himself.
Yet, does this mean that we cannot ridicule his vanity? Making not a railing accusation, but a righteous one? It’s interesting, what Michael does say “The Lord rebuke you.” It seems to me that this is exactly what Christians in the past were doing by dressing up as goblins and ghouls. They were participating in the Lord’s rebuke. As Jesus put the principalities and powers to open shame through the victory of his resurrection.
That was the heart that was behind All Hallows’ Eve celebrations. Having been set free from the fear death, Christians could laugh in the face of it, saying, “O death with is thou victory, where is thou sting?” The Church today hasn’t lost this freedom from death. We have just greatly reduced our approach to celebrating it. Perhaps it’s time we follow in the footsteps of the saints of old and restore this first rank feast.