Sidewalks
The first one
came just a little after 5pm. It was one of those Frozen characters, a tiny
Elsa or Anna. I get them confused.
She was barely
old enough to walk. This Elsa’s cheeks were round and red from the chilly
October air. Mom held her hand while dad stood on the sidewalk grinning and
taking pictures with his cell phone. It was obvious by the parents’ enthusiasm
and the blank stare on Elsa’s face that this was her first time trick or
treating.
While I’m
almost certain she didn’t have the necessary chomping strength to chew up the
starburst and tootsie rolls I placed in her bag, it didn’t stop me from giving
her a handful of them. She was cute. Her parents were excited. The joy of a new
tradition had started for this young family.
“Oh wow, look
how pretty you are!” I said to the young princess. “Who are you dressed up as?”
I proceeded to ask this tiny tot.
With a glazed
look in her eyes and dried snot under her nose, she responded by simply raising
her bag. No rhyming words or clever catch phrases. Just an innocent gesture
that indicated her knowledge of this classic cultural custom we call Halloween.
She would be
the first of many.
All sorts of
unusual but also predictable characters came to my door. Vampires and witches;
more Elsa’s and Anna’s, as well as Jasmine and Cinderella; zombies and sport
stars; something that appeared to be Bigfoot, and Sherlock Holmes. Some of the
costumes were quite clever. Others were less thoughtful. But all were endearing.
I enjoy
Halloween. For some it may be a difficult day depending on our religious or
cultural perspectives. Some of us might have a sour taste because of those 16
year olds who come to the door and want the same candy little Elsa wanted on
what was her first Halloween outing. Many might find it hard to justify
spending money on candy, the very items dentist and health teachers preach
against eating. Dog owners may despise the night knowing that every time the doorbell
rings, our faithful four legged friends will spaz out, barking and putting on
their best Cujo impersonation.
But my
appreciation for the traditions of Halloween runs deep.
For one night a
year we give our communities permission to get outside and visit their
neighbors. Families are with their kids, who we complain spend too much time inside.
Here, they are reclaiming the ancient practice of walking.
For one night a
year we get to gift strangers and neighbors, ghosts and little goblins, treats
for their tricks.
For one night a
year we get to imitate the grace of God to the children in our communities. We
don’t know you. We don’t know how hard you worked, or didn’t work, on your
costume. You didn’t have to come to our house or this neighborhood. But you
did. And we are glad you did, because grace means something like: Here is your
life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have
been complete without you.
For one night a
year our children get to dress up as their heroes and imitate their dreams!
For one night a
year the city streets are a buzz with different people of different generations
from different parts of town!
While I
celebrate the way Halloween pulls a community together, I also lament the very
practice that draws us out into these streets, because I long for the day when
we don’t have to dress up as something else to visit our neighbors. I long for
the day when the wisest in the community and the youngest are brought together
without the needed premise of trick or treating. I long for the day when we no
longer have to wear masks in order to go door to door to gain but a glimpse of
the lives of those we call neighbors.
Every year I
find myself gushing with joy as I hand outlandish amounts of candy to all
people who come to my door. No matter how old or how young; no matter how
detailed their costumes are, because at the end of the day, when the candy bowl
is bare, I hope that the community’s hospitality, the kindness that comes from
handing out 2 Kit-Kat bars instead of 1, the brief interaction with strangers
on our porch steps, and the vulnerability of a child to trust their tricks will
result in a treat.
My greatest
hope is that these gestures brought on by a holy day of story telling and
community making will lead to a season of authentic relationships. Halloween reminds us that we may be our
true selves or false selves. God leaves us free to be whatever we like.
But we cannot
make these choices with impunity.
If we have
chosen the way of falsity we must not be surprised that truth eludes us when we
finally come to need it and that confusion reigns.
I can either be
Olaf.
Or I can be
Adam.
