Meménto homo, quia pulvis es, et in púlverim revertéris.
Remember, man, that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.
I am a millennial who has never celebrated Halloween. I’ve never worn a costume for it, and I don’t let my family participate in trick-or-treating. As a result, some call me a “Scrooge” or a curmudgeon. What follows are the reasons for my apparently “humbug” position.
First, Halloween in America has long been overtaken by themes and practices that are both unsightly and aligned with intrinsic evil: demons, witches, the use of fear and horror for entertainment and profit, etc. For some actual satanic and occult groups, October 31 is even set apart for ceremonies, gatherings, debauchery, and nefarious activities such as animal sacrifices and curses. In his Memorandum on the Celebration of Halloween, the Bishop Konderla of Tulsa says to
intentionally avoid those things that are contrary to our Catholic faith but have become popularized through the secular adaptation of Halloween… to refrain from glamourizing or celebrating anything involving superstition, witches, witchcraft, sorcery, divinations, magic, and the occult… [and] to be good models of Christian virtue for those we serve and make clear distinctions between that which is good and that which is evil.1
I strive to oppose all of these things and to keep my family far away from their influence.
Those who agree on this point often suggest that I simply find ways to celebrate Halloween that are detached from all of the wicked expressions and themes. They point to alternatives like saint-themed “trunk-or-treat” parties.
But this leads to my second reason for opposing Halloween. October 31 through November 2 is Allhallowtide, the so-called Triduum of Death. These days carry profound liturgical and theological meaning in the Catholic Church calendar and in Catholic theology generally. The emphasis and symbolism of death are supposed to bring to mind the reality of the last things—of judgment, Heaven, and hell. But modern Halloween, even if “sanctified” with innocent trunk-or-treat parties, subverts our vigil and empties our solemnity.
How so?
In the Church calendar, October 31 was traditionally All Hallows’ Eve, the vigil before All Saints’ Day (or All Hallows’ Day), which is celebrated on November 1. All Saints’ Day is a holy day of obligation—a solemnity to honor
all the saints, known and unknown, and, according to Urban IV, to supply any deficiencies in the faithful's celebration of saints' feasts during the year.2
November 2 is All Souls’ Day, dedicated to remembering the faithful departed in purgatory.
The purpose of a vigil is to watch and prepare for the following day with prayer and fasting. Feasting is meant for the feast day, not the vigil, and solemnities follow vigils because true festivity requires spiritual preparation. Although All Hallows’ Eve is no longer a vigil in the calendar,
the Church [since the Second Vatican Council] still wants the notion of vigils to be kept alive in the minds of the faithful.3
Halloween detracts from our solemnity by flipping the order. It places revelry—often dark and grotesque—on the vigil and desacralizes All Hallows’ Day by treating it as a regular day. Instead of a day of quiet preparation, October 31 has become a carnival of fear and vice, which overshadows the holy days that follow. Instead of enjoying saint-themed trunk-or-treat parties on the actual feast day, we follow the culture in undermining our own solemnity.
Fr. Peter Adrian, O. Praem, conveys this point in a recent essay:
The tripartite structure—comprising the vigil (preparation), the principal celebration, and the octave (an extension of the remembrance of the feast day)—facilitates a fuller participation in the mystery we are called to meditate upon and interiorize…
Having a feast day without preparation produces a shallower understanding of festivity, and it leads to a more banal treatment of what is sacred. This is why we must keep vigilant.4
In America, Halloween serves as a microcosm of Catholic culture’s decline. It hijacks our liturgical calendar, replacing reverence with revelry and empties our solemnity of all its meaning. Although it is a difficult task, we should strive to reclaim Catholic culture by reclaiming October 31 as the vigil for All Saints’ Day, attuning our minds and hearts to what is truly sacred. Let us return to true festivity—and keep watch on the eve.
Konderla, David A. Memorandum on the Celebration of Halloween. Bishop of Tulsa, 2018. Available at CatholicCulture.org.
Mershman, F. (1907). All Saints' Day. In The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Company. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01315a.htm
From the entry for “Vigil” in the Modern Catholic Dictionary, edited by Fr. John Hardon, S. J.
Adrian, Fr. Peter, O. Praem. "Festivity Forgotten: The Importance of Vigils." The Abbot's Circle. Accessed November 11, 2024. https://theabbotscircle.com/post/festivity-forgotten-the-importance-of-vigils.
The point about intersecting with the vigil I suppose is well-taken, but the points related to the substantive content of Halloween as such are less so. I think Halloween’s history and cultural meaning are varied and amorphous enough to accommodate a virtuous and jovial celebration thereof. I think the “Halloween season”, so to speak, is at least worthwhile. In my view, it’s helpful and healthy for society to have a period to reflect on the liminal, the uncanny, the paranormal, and of course death itself. This is especially true in a society such as our own that for so many has become disenchanted. Can these subjects be engaged with in an unhelpful or harmful way? Of course, but misuse doesn’t negate right use. There are many great and poignant horror movies and books, for example, and trick-or-treating is a simply wonderful experience I wish didn’t seem to be dwindling in recent years. Q.E.D.
My folks being British and well-versed in the lore taught me that the ghoulishness of Halloween is a sort of confident taunt of things evil, rather like the boldness in daring death: "O death, where is your sting?" Again, a now little-used expression in English is "the devil do his worst" : a defiance of the horrors of evil knowing that Christ is the victor. Or if you're moving on with courage against all and sundry enemies you say "the devil take the hindmost:" a bit like urging all to move with you, or the straggler will be lost.
The fact that non-Christian elements have tried to subvert or subsume or set aside the deeper spiritual realities of a Christian highpoint - as at Christmas with commercialism even through Advent, and at Easter with chocolate, easter bunnies and groundhogs is no reason whatsoever to stop witnessing to these realities or retreating to the lights-off house.
Speaking for the child, I've always liked many of the Marvel comic-book series that conjure the unearthly likes of Thor or the Hulk, or DC comics with demons like The Joker, precisely because they give a farcical take on what various cultures have taken seriously as gods, avatars, demiurges and overlords. This fun-poking at the weird supernatural or the macabre is what I was taught lay behind the theatre of All-Hallows Eve. Our family would always get industrious making costumes including heavy cardboard shields and Viking helmets or a pinned on starched carpet for Aladdin's genie. Even to dress as a pirate or pirate's nemesis: the kraken was a share in the one time when youth get to give a healthy outlet to their inner thespian.
That said, I and mine do oppose the showing of films like Beetlejuice whether at Halloween or anytime, as opposed to the fine Mexican film 'Day of the Dead' -- precisely because Beetlejuice makes warm fuzzy friends with the 'devil character,' , however farcical he may seem. Far better to depict the devil in full evil regalia, as in the third of the Star Wars trilogy, for he will be overthrown by the Force (code for the Victory of Christ).
On another point, not all vigils begin in a sombre and penitent mood: indeed liturgies - including Sunday itself - begin at sundown or the vesper star. Two examples of joyous vigil are Christmas Eve and Holy Saturday night. Christmas eve where we easily picture the angels on high against a star-lit night announcing the Birth; and Easter eve where already the Exultet sings of the most blessed night in which Christ rose resplendent.
Among the Christian cultural aspects of Halloween is recollection of the risen dead seen on the eve when Jesus expired and during the time when He descended to Hell to 'let captivity free'. Those apparitions must have caused great alarm to the haunted denizens of Judea, so that all the more inexplicable peace would call on them (they who would repent) first at the Resurrection of the Lord the next night - corresponding to All Souls, who indeed will share in the Resurrection either to glory or to shame - and second (for confirmation) at Pentecost, which corresponds to the ending of the shortest day on Dec. 20, coming 50 days after Halloween.
As children leave our door on Halloween, behind which they see a statue of St. Joseph in full light, we say "the peace of All Saints be with you all." To this we never get boos, but yays.