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							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.
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							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.
 
			
							[Adam Quine of First Presbyterian Church in 
			Lincoln] |