On Hallowe'en

A note from Jamie Howison: Just as I was thinking that I’d write up a brand new post for the website regarding the whole business of Halloween – about why as Christians we shouldn’t get too wound up in an over-reaction against its allegedly demonic overtones – Steve Bell sent a link to a piece he’d written on the subject last year. It occurred to me that rather than reinvent the proverbial wheel, it would be better to give you a taste of what Steve wrote and then send you off to read the rest of his musings posted on his own site.

Keeping the Christ in Hallowe’en

W

hen I was a kid, Halloween was one of the best nights of the year. We lived in Drumheller, Alberta then. My mom and dad were both quite into Halloween and often lent their skills to the creating of fine, sometimes elaborate costumes. The costume I remember most vividly was worn the year I went out as a Roman Centurion. My mom, good at sewing, made the clothing and my father had somehow constructed an impressive Centurion helmet out of a plastic javex bottle. Dad and I crafted a sword of wood and gilded in tinfoil. Mom attached leather straps to sandals so they criss-crossed up my legs to the knees. As far as I could tell, I had the best costume in town and more than one envious kid said as much.

To read the rest of Steve’s reflection, simply click here.

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