Pigeons! This timely query just came in!
A question that I haven’t seen you cover (although I’ve not searched the archives): We’re doing a Halloween pageant about the roots of Halloween in various world religions this next Sunday, and the congregation has been encouraged to come in costume. Yours truly will have the narrator portion, so costume is not required by the role. To what degree, if any, is it appropriate for the minister to come in costume? A little face paint? A hat? A cloak? Full costume? Nothing? Thanks!
Dearest,
A great question for the season.
And as is PeaceBang’s wont, she will go on and on and on pontificating and opining rather than give you a simple “yes” or “no” or “do whatever you want but for God’s sake don’t wear one of the Sexy Sesame Street costumes!”
First of all, if you’re in a conservative tradition you have to tread very carefully around this pagan holiday and not provoke accusations that you don’t take the threat of the demonic seriously enough. PeaceBang is a serious amateur scholar of the witch burnings in Europe (1500-1750) and the Puritan outbreak of witch hysteria in colonial New England, so she takes this lingering superstition dead seriously. Watch yourself with that cute witch hat. I, as a Unitarian Universalist, am going to proudly and intentionally don a conical chapeau in respect for the wisdom and wizardry such a hat represents, and in grieving for the hundreds of thousands of innocents who were tortured and then put to the stake (or the noose) under accusations of practicing witchcraft and consorting with Satan. For a devastating and excellent history of the witch hysteria in Europe, I recommend to you Anne Llewellyn Barstow’s very fine book, Witchcraze: A New History of the European Witch Hunts. I am of the opinion that every religious leader should know about this insanely misogynist period in European history that terrorized women and girls into being docile creatures. As I said, this is an area of serious scholarly focus for me and Halloween is the perfect season for us to educate our people about it, since the evils were perpetrated by the Church (Protestant AND Catholic) in the name of God.
Ancestral memory is a powerful, unconscious force in our communities. The season of Halloween/All Souls is a fascinating moment when the pagan rituals of pre-Christian Western Europe and Christian tradition overlap, often with complicated resonances. Is it a day to somberly remember our beloved saints gone before us into life eternal? Is it a mystical time when the veil between the seen and unseen realms lifts and we can directly commune with our dead while walking in the graveyard? Is it a cute occasion for little kids to come to church in Buzz Lightyear costumes (as one tyke did this morning at my own church)?
You are the religious leader in your community. I am convinced that All Hallow’s Eve is still a religious holiday even if we don’t consciously know or admit that. Therefore, it is your responsibility as a religious leader to guide the conversation around Halloween and its observance (probably along with your Sunday School leadership). This is, as we say, a Teaching Moment. How will you dress for it?
I suggest that you do dress up for it. I suggest that you dress in a costume that is subtle, commanding and somewhat imposing. A wizard, say, but not a cheezy wizard. A stately, amazing wizard. Or a powerful crone in a long cloak with a hood and a walking staff and cauldron. That cauldron is a symbol of the womb, of the mystery of God conjuring life. Oooooooh!
You could dress as a Puritan cleric and talk about the judges at Salem: how mistaken they were, how much one of them later repented of sending all those innocent people to the gallows (one of my predecessors, the Rev. Deodate Lawson, was involved in the Salem trials. And at least one of my parishioners that I know of had a relative who died on Gallows Hill. Halloween for me is not a foolin’ around holy day).
This is not, in my not-at-all-humble opinion, a time to get goofy and to be the Fun Pastor (In The Dunk Tank). You have an opportunity here to evoke ancient awe and mystery, so why not do that? If you want to freak everyone out, put on your preaching robe and unbutton it at the neck, do up your face and visible skin in zombie pallor, matt your hair down and walk through the town at noon flagellating yourself with a big riding crop. The plague! The plague! Or put on a big bird mask (the kind they wore collecting bodies during the Black Death – I’ve seen them in all the costume stores and never fail to tell giggly customers of their creepy origins. I love to watch the laughter drain from their faces as they slowly set the mask back on the shelf) and your robe and walk slowly through town intoning, “Bring out your dead.” Drag a wheelbarrow with you and pile it with dummies. The kids will remember it for the rest of their lives!!
Why would you do that, seriously?
I would do it because we live in a death-denying culture and in a culture that is ignorant of its history. I would do it for the same reason I would participate in a similarly disturbing and upsetting theatrical piece: to effect catharsis. To get people thinking. To get people pulling history books off the shelves to delve into a time when people believed that Satan was an actual person and that he was afoot in the land.
We have removed death from our daily lives, sanitized it, sentimentalized it and often resorted to Hallmark card theologies in the face of its might and dread. You can preach the consolations of heaven and eternal life all you want, but this human being does not appreciate lightweight, facile treatments of the subject and in fact resents the easy answers lobbed by too many clergy about the Grim Reaper. At Halloween, I remember the medieval Ars Moriendi (The “Art of Dying”) and the era that gave rise to it. We live in a far more sanitized, safe, rational and longevity-blessed culture today but we have merely pushed Death out of sight, not out of mind.
Be ye thanatologists. We’re all mortal. Brew a pot of mystery and awe and see what happens. I was planning to dress in a full-length black hooded cloak and ride slowly around my town square on horseback with another rider also in black. Anything I can do to get the cars whizzing through town to SLOW DOWN and remember that life is short and death can come at any time for us all, I’m all for. I just don’t know if I’ll be an adept enough horseback rider by then. Also, I need to borrow a cloak.
I think it may go without saying that those who work with the chronically ill and dying should ignore all this advice and wear a tasteful spider pin or pumpkin socks!
Oh, and NO PUMPKIN SWEATSHIRTS. And please do not contribute to the demonization of old women (who were the first to be fingered as “witches” during the witch craze – they were needy, they were mouthy, they were a drag on communities and so they were the most vulnerable to accusations — they and midwives –) by dressing as an old wart-nosed “hag.” The word “hag” has its origins in Hagia, or Wisdom.* Women religious leaders owe it to our great-great-great-great, and etc great grandmothers to not mock their persecution. Don’t add new insult to old injury. They deserve to be honored and remembered and grieved.
Now, to lighten things up a bit, Miss Veronica Lake bringing some major glamour (a word that also has origins in witchcraft and magic) as a Hollywood Witch.
Colleague? Let us know what you decide. And to all my UU colleagues: you’re welcome for the sermon fodder. 😉
Love and kiss of peace,
Endora xoxo
* P.S. It appears that I am probably wrong about this, as a brainy pal of mine just informed me. Story at 11pm but I’m going to bed now.
