For years I’ve harbored low-grade confusion about whether Halloween has any real relationship to Christian practice or is just an excuse for a very strange party; when we remember Saints-with-a-capital-S, such as Saint John or Saint Teresa of Avila; and when we remember the saints-with-a-lower-case-s, our ancestors, neighbors, and strangers who have gone before us. Under the hunch that you might have the same questions that I have had, I am happy to share with you what I’ve found out this week.
The first revelation was that the All Saints Day is in fact part of a three-day period which, if you’re fancy, old-timey, or, as you will be by the end of this, super churchy, is known as Allhallowtide. Allhallowtide spans All Hallows Eve on October 31, All Saints Day on November 1, and All Souls Day on November 2.
The celebration of All Hallows Eve, also known as Halloween, goes back to the 8th century. For the Celts, indigenous people from what is now the United Kingdom and northern France, October 31 was their New Year’s Eve, called Samhain, into which they wove together themes of harvest, the onset of winter, and an awareness of mortality. They believed that on October 31 each year, the separation between the living and the dead was thinner and blurrier than usual. As was also the case with the timing and traditions of Christmas and Easter, Christian missionaries reframed Samhain as Christian liturgy- that is, the remembrance of and prayer for the dead. Halloween in secular culture has retained its Celtic and party-ready spookiness; All Hallows Eve for us Christians can be a chance to contemplate the mysterious, powerful, and close relationship between living and the dead, which we call the communion of saints, and that is, in fact, always true for us.
The textbook meaning of All Saints Day and who qualifies as a S/saint has shifted over time, starting with Saint-with-a-capital-S Paul, through Roman endorsement of Christianity, the ideas of various popes, and, with equal significance of course, the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. It seems that Christians have been fuzzy on the details, too: Does All Saints Day recognize “elite” or “exceptional” Christians? “Real” Christians as opposed to the posers? Are we racking up competing holidays for the many Roman (read: worldly) gods (read: idols)? Is All Saints Day only for capital-S-Saints who, after their death, were put through a Very Long and Very Serious Process that resulted in sainthood? At some point in history, yes to each of those.
The Episcopal Church, alongside some other denominations and traditions, has notably softened any sense of exclusivity of All Saints Day and landed on this: All Saints Day commemorates all saints, known and unknown. The church defines a saint as a holy person, a faithful Christian, and one who shares life in Christ.
Which brings us to All Souls Day. Starting in the 11th century, Christians celebrated All Souls Day on November 2. I’m sure people then had the same question we do now, which is how we can be sure to remember liturgically the faithful departed who have meaning, influence, and ongoing encouragement locally in our lives but who are not capital-S-Saints. Lest there remain any confusion about the purpose and limitations of All Saints Day, All Souls Day is this inclusive celebration of prayer for all the dead. We recognize and give thanks for the glimmers of God their lives revealed. We encourage them as they are formed into expressions of themselves who will be with God forever – in the mysterious, unknowable, but nevertheless sure way that will happen. The full expansiveness of All Souls Day is to enfold ourselves, the living souls and saints, into these prayers. We can be comforted to know that just as we pray for the departed, the church will pray for us when we are on the other side of that thin and blurry line between the living and the dead.
I wish you a blessed Allhallowtide.
Farley Lord, Intern