I’ll be the first to admit that Halloween bothers me. Frankly, I don’t see anything positive about it. Yet I try not to be smug about it, especially when talking to my children. I’ve been in the presence of such anti-Halloween smugness and I don’t like it. Some said to me recently that my talking about the anniversary of the Reformation (which began on October 31, 1517) offended him.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because I’m an atheist,’ answered the offended party.
I could have gone on to defend myself. I wasn’t really talking about God, per se. I was only talking about Martin Luther. Is the name Martin Luther a great offense? But I didn’t defend myself. I went on the offensive instead.
I replied, ‘I don’t particularly care for Halloween, but I’m not offended by the fact that your a grown man who wants to dress up like a little kid.’
You see, I’m not offended by Halloween. I get it. I understand. But therein lies the problem.
In the book of Genesis, we read the story of Jacob conniving his father Isaac into giving him a solemn, patriarchal blessing that Isaac fully intended to give to Jacob’s brother Esau. In order to gain this blessing, Jacob proceeded to put on a costume. He dressed as his older brother in order to deceive his nearly blind father.
Isaac asked, ‘Who are you, my son?’ To which Jacob replied, ‘I am Esau, your firstborn’ (Gen. 27:18-19).
Years later, Jacob had an encounter with another man from whom he wanted to receive blessing. But this man was of a different sort. In some sense he was no man at all, though he appeared in the form of man. After Jacob came to recognize this man he would say that he was none other than God in the flesh (Gen. 32:30).
Jacob wanted this man, who was God, to bless him. He wanted what he had had to trick his father into giving him. He was so desperate for this blessing that he wrestled with it until his hip was disjointed, still refusing to tap out.
‘I will not let you go until you bless me,’ Jacob said. And the man, who was God, asked him a familiar question: ‘What is your name?’ (Gen. 32:27).
What was Jacob’s answer? Would he continue his lies? No, this time he would own up: ‘I am Jacob,’ he said. And from that moment on he would be called Israel (v. 28). Jacob, in finally owning up to who he was, was becoming a new man. That’s what an encounter with Jesus Christ does to you – it causes you to finally own up, and then transforms you.
Halloween is the primary day in the year when our need to put on costumes and play the part is most clearly expressed. We do it every day of our lives. On Halloween we pretend to be a cartoon character to get candy. Other days we pretend to be sensitive and kind so we can get the girl. On Halloween we pretend to be a witch to scare our little brother. Other days we put on an angry face so that our employees will fear us. On Halloween we put on a clown face to get a laugh. The rest of the week we act like a clown so people will think we’re funny. On Halloween we put on a princess costume to say trick or treat. Other days we try to look like princesses so that a handsome prince might notice us.
The Bible teaches that man has an innate propensity to put on airs and play-act, that man is like a wax nose that will become whatever he feels he needs to be in order to be blessed. And Halloween is just one living parable, one striking illustration of this phenomenon.
I understand that for many Halloween is just ‘innocent’ fun, but let the example of Jacob hit home – you will never enter the Kingdom of God if you cannot own up to who you are. Our culture is full of people who are constantly trying to play the part – to dress like the latest fashion icon, to sound like the latest pop star, to be the type of person who is accepted by those whom we deem praiseworthy. Perhaps we should spend Halloween dressed as ourselves. That’s scary enough.
Can you see who you are? Better yet, can you accept it? Can you say to God, ‘Here I am Lord, warts and all’? Can you say, ‘I know my sin, it is ever before me’? If you can, then you’re not far from the Kingdom. You’re not far from being able to say with the Apostle, ‘By the grace of God, I am what I am’ (1 Cor. 15:10).
You feel the innate, and powerful, need to cover up your nakedness. But why? Is it because God’s grace is not sufficient? Is it because Jesus’ love, and Jesus’ atoning work, is too weak? Jesus’ death was horrific because he was dying for horrific people. Does that offend you? The cross is a stumbling block because we are prideful.
If you can’t understand why Jesus had to die such a horrific death it is because you have not owned up to who you are. Maybe it’s time to stop playing dress up.
Or perhaps if we’re not dressing up today we’re spending our night being scared to death by horror movies. Something in us makes it enjoyable to see villainous, hateful, superhuman monsters and vengeance, slaughter, hellfire and brimstone. We like it because it’s not us on the receiving end. It’s always the other guy that gets his head chopped off.
The Bible tells such a horror story in one sense. Doom is impending. The winnowing fork is in hand. But it is no monster who holds it. It is God Almighty the righteous:
Psalm 7:12 If a man does not repent, God will whet his sword; he has bent and readied his bow; 13 he has prepared for him his deadly weapons, making his arrows fiery shafts.
The good news is that the other Guy – Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, stands in our place and takes to arrow shot for us. That’s what should exhilarate us! And it’s no movie. It is a living drama that we get to be a part of. If we have eyes to see.
But you’ll never see if you don’t own up to your part in the story. You’re the villain, because you put him on that cross by your sins. You want to be the hero. That’s why you dress up like Superman. But you’re not.
The only outfit you need is Christ’s robes of righteousness. Admit who you are, in the presence of Christ, and see if he doesn’t transform you into a new person. He took the shot so that you could become a new person, made over in him image. ‘By the grace of God, I am what I am’ – in Christ.
