Why We Don't Hide on Halloween

Halloween can be a polarizing time of year for Christians. Some view it as inherently evil, like a one-night devil’s convention. Others shrug it off as nothing more than kids dressed as superheroes hoarding enough sugar to power a small city. Still others see it as a cultural moment to engage and redeem, because, let’s be honest, it’s the one night a year your neighbors actually come to your door on purpose.

So where should the church stand?

The very name “Halloween” comes from All Hallows’ Eve, the night before All Saints’ Day. Far from beginning as a pagan festival, its earliest roots go back to the second century, when Christians set aside days to honor martyrs and celebrate Jesus’ victory over death. In 609, Pope Boniface IV dedicated the Pantheon in Rome to “Saint Mary and All Martyrs,” and later Pope Gregory III moved All Saints’ Day to November 1, making October 31 the vigil — All Hallows’ Eve.

Yes, Celtic peoples celebrated a fall festival called Samhain around the same time, which carried spiritual overtones. Over centuries, the church’s holy days and cultural traditions mingled, eventually producing the mix of practices we now call Halloween. And today? Let’s be honest, what most people celebrate has less to do with ancient festivals and more to do with modern consumerism: horror movies filling theaters, Spirit Halloween stores popping up in abandoned strip malls, and candy companies cashing in on a billion-dollar night.

So what do we do with it?

When engaging anything in culture, Christians usually have three choices: reject, receive, or redeem.

Some Christians reject Halloween altogether, calling it “the devil’s festival.” At first glance, that position seems safe. Why risk dabbling in anything that might glorify darkness? But if we’re going to reject Halloween on the grounds of its tangled history or its cultural excesses, consistency demands we apply the same standard elsewhere. For instance, Easter. That’s right, the Easter holiday we know today is associated with eggs and bunnies, symbols that have pagan roots in fertility rituals.

Yet Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus with joy, not fearing contamination by cultural add-ons. Or, let’s bring up Thanksgiving. We all know Thanksgiving feasts often drift into gluttony, which Scripture clearly identifies as sin (Proverbs 23:20–21). Yet no one argues we should ban Thanksgiving altogether; instead, we redeem it by emphasizing gratitude to God.

Jesus also dismantled the assumption that sin is primarily “out there.” In Mark 7:21–23,  He said, “For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery…all these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” The problem isn’t costumes, candy, or even cultural customs. The problem is the human heart. Evil doesn’t rub off on us from trick-or-treating; it flows from within when our hearts are not anchored in Christ.

So if rejection is your conscience’s choice, that’s valid, but rejecting Halloween outright as “too tainted” without being consistent with other holidays, or without recognizing where sin truly originates, weakens the argument.

Others simply receive Halloween as it is, costumes, candy, parties, and all, without ever asking deeper questions. At first glance, it looks like freedom. What’s the harm in letting kids dress up as superheroes and knock on doors for candy? But blind acceptance is never neutral. To receive culture without thought is to allow culture to disciples us.

Think about Mardi Gras. To the outsider, it’s beads, parades, and Cajun food, an expression of cultural color and joy. And to be fair, there is beauty in the music, the food, and the way families gather. I grew up around Mardi Gras and remember the goodness of being surrounded by loved ones. But if you peel back the layers, you also see the darker side,  indulgence, immorality, and excess on full display. Christians who “receive” it uncritically risk being swept into practices that dull their holiness. Or, to put it another way: Mardi Gras has its bright moments, but if you value purity, maybe just enjoy the gumbo and keep yourself out of Bourbon Street in New Orleans.

Or consider media. To consume movies, shows, and music without reflection is to give them unfiltered access to your imagination. And make no mistake, what you watch, you will eventually want; what you listen to, you will eventually love. This is why Paul presses us in Philippians 4:8 to dwell on what is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and commendable.

So let’s be clear as Halloween: my kids are not dressing as the devil this year. But they also aren’t absorbing every cultural script that Halloween offers. Maggie and I, on the other hand, might still enjoy a Tim Burton classic or two with some popcorn. There’s a world of difference between innocent fun and celebrating darkness. Dressing up as a firefighter and going door-to-door for candy is one thing; dressing in grotesque costumes that glorify gore, fear, or the occult is another.

The Christian life is never about mindless participation. It is about thoughtful engagement. When we receive culture uncritically, we slowly begin to mirror it. In other words, if we stay wide open to whatever culture serves up, we’ll swallow anything. But when we filter culture through the lens of Scripture, we begin to reflect Christ instead.

This is where we believe Christians have the greatest opportunity. The apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 10:23, “All things are lawful, but not all things are helpful. All things are lawful, but not all things build up.” Redemption requires discernment: embracing what is good and harmless while rejecting what is corrupt.

We’ve seen this before. Many of the practices of Christmas,  decorated trees, and even gift-giving had pre-Christian or pagan origins. Yet Christians didn’t throw the whole holiday out. They redeemed it by centering it on the incarnation of Christ. We don’t fear the tree; we use it to point to the tree where our Savior bore our sins.

I think about the beauty of so many of our hymns, which were originally set to the melodies of folk songs or even tavern tunes. Instead of rejecting them, believers took those familiar tunes and filled them with gospel truth, transforming them into anthems of worship. That’s redemption at work. The same is true with Christmas; if Christians hadn’t seen it as an opportunity to proclaim Christ, we wouldn’t have “Silent Night” filling living rooms or choirs lifting up the birth of Jesus each December. What once belonged to the world was reclaimed to point to the glory of God.

So what might it look like to redeem Halloween?

Hand out candy generously, modeling God’s lavish grace.

Open your home or yard as a place of welcome and light in the neighborhood.

Choose costumes that are fun, creative, or humorous without glorifying darkness.

Use the evening to meet neighbors, build connections, and pray for opportunities to share Jesus.

And here’s the deeper truth: we are not called to run from the world but to go into it. Jesus said, “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.” (John 20:21). Retreat has never been the mission of the church. Engagement is.

This year, hundreds of people far from God will be walking your streets, image bearers of the living God. They’ll be dressed as superheroes, princesses, zombies, or movie characters. But behind every mask is someone made in the image of God, someone worth knowing, someone Christ died to redeem.

That’s why Halloween is not just a cultural event. It’s a strategic mission opportunity. Instead of shutting our doors in fear, we can open them in faith. And that’s exactly why we’re hosting our first Fall Fest in such a powerful way to capitalize on this moment,  creating a space where our neighbors can experience joy, community, and most importantly, encounter the hope of Jesus.

At Heirloom Church, our posture toward Halloween is not fear, nor blind acceptance, but thoughtful redemption. Redeeming Halloween is not about ignoring its messy roots but about reclaiming the day for gospel presence. As Timothy George calls it, a “theology of reclamation.” If something has been hijacked by the enemy, the church doesn’t retreat; we step forward with the light of Christ, which shines brightest in the darkness.

At the end of the day, our aim is simple: to honor Jesus. For some, that means staying home in good conscience. For others, it means engaging wisely and redeeming the night. Romans 14 reminds us: never go against your conscience. There is freedom, not pressure, and certainly no judgment. But if your conscience allows, Halloween provides one of the clearest opportunities all year to live on mission, to meet neighbors, to love them well, and to reflect the hope of Christ.

So this year, don’t run from the dark. Carry the light of Christ into it.

Carry on,

Pastor Dakota Adair