Reflections on Halloween: A Personal Journey

I’ve found myself thinking about Halloween more lately. Honestly, in the past, I often scoffed at strict Christian parents who wouldn’t let their kids join in on Halloween festivities—especially things like costumes and trick-or-treating. I mean, come on. It felt a bit overly serious, right?

Growing up in a Christian household, my parents had strong feelings about darkness, yet they still let my siblings and me enjoy Halloween. The rules were straightforward: no horror movies, haunted houses, or creepy costumes. Decorations that spooked us out were also a no-go.

Some of my favorite childhood memories revolve around Halloween.

My mother had a gift for sewing, and she made our costumes from scratch whenever she could. I remember one year when she crafted a dazzling fairy dress for me, complete with sequins and tulle. Then there was the year my brother dressed up as a “VeggieTales” cucumber. He looked hilariously awkward, almost like a less-cool cousin of Shrek, so I had to take him trick-or-treating. The laughs we still share about those moments are priceless.

When we returned home, pillowcases stuffed with candy, my brother and I would spend hours sorting through our treasures. He loved fruity candies, while I was more of a chocolate person, so it worked out well. We’d watch classics like “The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” and “Casper” while making trades.

In those days, preparing for Halloween involved getting my sister ready for trick-or-treating. I’d curl her hair and paint her nails, ensuring she was the best princess on the block.

Overall, Halloween in our home was sweet and joyful.

As young adults, my husband and I continued with similar guidelines. Our porch was simply adorned with pumpkins and twinkling orange lights. At costume parties, we opted for harmless costumes—think Peter Pan and Wendy, although he still grumbles about wearing green tights. We enjoyed giving out candy, delighting the little superheroes and princesses who visited us. Invites to horror movies or haunted houses? We politely passed.

This approach defined our Halloween celebrations for years. I thought we had it all figured out. We crafted a safe space, free from darkness.

Yet everything shifts the moment you become a parent. When they place your baby in your arms, your perspective changes entirely. Suddenly, the world feels more dangerous. “What ifs?” flood your mind, and your sensitivity heightens. You start noticing things—a silly song lyric or an innuendo—that you might have ignored before.

The responsibility weighs heavily. You’re not just keeping your child safe; you’re also tasked with protecting their soul.

As Halloween approaches, new questions arise.

What if my toddler encounters a scary costume or decoration that gives him nightmares? Am I exposing him to fears or traditions that could haunt him later? What if he starts a pattern that he regrets down the line?

These concerns push me into deeper exploration. Do demonic influences heighten on Halloween, even in safe neighborhoods? By allowing him to trick-or-treat, am I sending him into spiritual danger? Can Christians glorify God while still participating in Halloween? At which point does innocence transform into something more sinister? Does such a point even exist?

Then, additional questions emerge. If we only partake in the harmless sides of Halloween, can we set a positive example for others who might not know Christ? Could creating boundaries around Halloween help my child learn to shine in the darkness? Are candy and costumes just harmless fun most days, or do they turn into something morally questionable on October 31st? If that’s the line I draw, am I being too rigid?

In complete honesty, I’m uncertain about my stance. I respect how my parents managed to keep us away from darkness while still allowing for fun and memorable experiences.

If it were possible, I’d like to recreate that same atmosphere for my own kids.

But then again, we were children in the 90s, and we didn’t have the vast access to information that kids do today. My mother wasn’t aware of the grim roots of Halloween—like trick-or-treating and costumes.

Now, however, with the internet and smart devices, information is at our fingertips in seconds. This reality raises significant moral questions. More Christians seem to be investigating Halloween’s origins, and what they discover can be quite unsettling.

Social media amplifies this narrative. Witchcraft practices abound on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, which challenge old stereotypes. It turns out modern witches are not just in folklore; they’re our neighbors, standing next to us at the grocery store.

On platforms like “WitchTok,” the connection between Halloween and ancient pagan rituals is openly discussed. Modern witches notably mark October 31st, consulting dark forces and conducting rituals, while children feast on candy unaware.

Moreover, we’re hearing from former occult members sharing unsettling truths. Many emphasize that participation in Halloween opens doorways to evil.

A recent Instagram post from Christian artist Forrest Frank resonated with me, as did warnings from ex-occultist Liane Swegelaar, who labels Halloween “the greatest day in the devil’s calendar.” He adds, “People don’t question the meaning behind it.” Swegelaar insists that participation in Halloween in any form can invite darkness into one’s life.

Should I just take their word for it? Despite those memories filled with joy?

What are the true origins of Halloween? Can it even be considered an adaptation of All Hallows’ Eve—a Christian holiday meant to honor saints? Or is it too entangled with the darker motivations tied to the pagan festival of Samhain, a night associated with death and dark spirits? Originally, the Celts believed this was when the boundary between the living and dead was thinnest, leading to rituals, offerings, and eventually, tricks for sweet rewards. The notion of handing out candy traces back to appeasing these spirits.

Some could argue that Christians have infused light into what started in darkness by transforming these practices into celebrations of community. Yet similar customs across cultures muddle the origins of trick-or-treating and costumes.

Although early Christians adapted these practices, they were originally rooted in ancient pagan traditions. Does that make it acceptable now? Maybe yes, and maybe no—context is key.

Some Christians vehemently oppose Halloween, citing its pagan roots as the reason believers should stay away. They have valid points. Samhain is indeed linked with darker themes.

However, some argue Christians have converted these customs from something sinister into bonds of fellowship. Again, it’s truly up for interpretation.

Interestingly, many Christians who fervently oppose Halloween seem unaffected when the Christmas season arrives. Christmas trees, for instance, share a similar historical background—both holidays evolved from pagan origins to Christian meanings.

I asked a friend who feels similarly, yet supports Christmas trees, why their views differ. She explained that Halloween celebrates darkness, while Christmas does not. Fair enough, but it makes me question if mainstream Christmas doesn’t embody a different kind of darkness: consumerism and greed.

“It’s just a Halloween vibe, it doesn’t fit my spirit,” she said. It’s understandable, I guess.

Perhaps we should each consult the Holy Spirit and seek personal conviction on these matters? The Apostle Paul encouraged early Christians to “be fully convinced in their own minds” on such controversial issues.

This year, as Halloween nears, my husband and I decided to pray about how this season will look in our lives. Our son is still too young to remember this year, but it weighs on my heart.

Seeing my neighbor create a yard full of frightening decorations unsettles me. The monstrous figures, glowing ominously, make me pause and consider if my own pumpkin displays are any different.

Until I uncover the answers, I’ll keep thinking, praying, and relying on the Spirit to guide me in what belongs in our home. Whether that involves embracing a season or cherishing a memory, it’s a journey I’m navigating as gently as I can.