Happy Hallowtide

When I was young, my mom would spend October choosing or sewing costumes for my siblings and I. We had a box in the attic full of last year’s costumes: the tiny lion we all wore on our first Halloween, the little leopard, the dinosaur, the ghost – tumbled together with the extras from makeshift costumes we’d added later. A Phantom of the Opera mask, a princess dress, vampire teeth that never quite stayed on.

Opening the attic door and pulling down our box was a special day all its own. The air was crisp and cool, the trees were bright with autumn colors. I remember the plum tree outside my window – deep purple in October – with its Halloweeny scent and Lenten color making me think of all the dead who, my grandmother told me, hovered around like scattered leaves, longing for my prayers. I didn’t really know how to pray for them then, but I would run out into the purple and scoop them up in my arms whispering “I love you,” then toss them up in the wind to God.

Hallowtide hasn’t changed much for me since my childhood. My own children have outgrown those hand-me-down costumes my mother made and now we plan our costumes together around the table in September. We haven’t gone trick-or-treating for years, but the season is still one of costuming, celebration, and friendship with the souls.

Hallowtide: An Introduction

The Feast of All Saints has been a part of the Church calendar since the earliest centuries. As Christians, we’ve always had a longing to celebrate the saints and martyrs. Whether they’re well-known friends, or the vast numbers of unknown saints and martyrs, who lived and died hidden lives of holiness. As the Church gave more and more days of celebration to our known saints, she included days in celebration of all saints as well – known and unknown. The date for the Feast of All Saints varied depending on location until the 9th century, when Gregory IV settled the feast on the 1st of November.

Along with all the saints, the Church has consistently set aside days for the commemoration of the dead. All Souls’ Day, a day in which we remember the faithful departed in a particular way, is a chance to offer Masses and prayers for the help of our beloved dead in Purgatory. Like the Feast of All Saints, All Souls’ Day shifted around the liturgical calendar a bit before being officially settled on the 2nd of November sometime before the 13th century.

These two feasts, along with the Vigil of All Saints and the Octave following All Saints’, are called Hallowtide – the season of the Saints and Holy Souls. This Triduum is an especially fitting time to visit cemeteries and offer prayers for the dead. From November 1st to November 8th, we can obtain plenary indulgences for souls in Purgatory by visiting a cemetery and praying for the souls. It’s also an ideal time to visit our loved ones’ graves, sprinkle holy water, tidy up around tombstones, and spend some time honoring our beloved dead.

Soul Cakes

One of my favorite ways to celebrate Hallowtide, is by baking soul cakes and distributing them after Mass during the Octave. I attend a small, rural parish, and on or around the Feast of All Souls, I often bring a little basket of shortbread soul cakes to offer after our Mass. The “cakes” are lightly spiced with nutmeg and cardamom, I mix chopped cranberries into the dough and then bake small, round cookies. When I hand them out, I offer to pray for any loved ones. It’s a lovely chance to connect with my fellow parishioners and we all get to share a little about our beloved dead.

The tradition of soul cakes began (probably) in the British Isles, when traveling pilgrims, local children, and others would go “souling” around the Feast of All Souls: knocking on doors and asking for apples or soul cakes, or bread while promising to pray for the souls of the dead.

Hallowtide Altar

In some families, a special home altar is set up for the season, with photos or mementos of our dead intermingled with images of the saints. Often, for example, I’ll hang my grandmother’s rosary on her statue of Our Lady of Grace, and tuck a photo of her beneath the beads. This year, I have a photo of my mother – when she was young with a halo of curly hair – tucked beside a smooth rock from our last trip to the ocean with her.

Altars like this are an opportunity to remember our dead during this season – to offer prayers for them daily, and to include them in our lives. While this tradition is strongest in Mexico, where the Dia de los Muertos is an important holy day, it is also a part of the All Souls’ tradition in other countries – particularly Latin American countries, Spain, Italy, and the Philippines. But all countries with a Catholic history have some variation of this tradition, and in our Universal Church it’s a beautiful tradition to include no matter how new it is to your family.

Halloween and Beyond

Trick-or-treating was a fun part of my childhood – running around suburban Detroit with a bunch of other mask and costume-clad kids, in the dark, in the ’80s. Our parents strolling, cigarettes in hand, far behind us or waiting at home to trade for Snickers bars when we got home. But it’s not the ’80s anymore and trick-or-treating seems to be declining everywhere. Here in rural New England, it’s hard to find fun neighborhoods to trick-or-treat in. So we take advantage of what we do have. Woods and leaves, pumpkins and early sunsets.

Last year, we bobbed for apples and set up a scavenger hunt throughout our forest. The kids followed clues down to the stream, up to the ridge, and through the rows of yellow-leaved birches. We attended the vigil Mass at our parish for the Feast of All Saints and then drove home through dark, winding roads to bob for apples and listen to old cassette tapes of “The Shadow” and “Sleepy Hollow.”

Halloween doesn’t have to look like old movies or childhood memories to be a good and memorable time. It can be new and fresh or old and full of history. The first night of Hallowtide is an opportunity to step into a season of celebration and hope. A chance to celebrate with our dead, pray for our dead, and prepare to meet our own deaths with Christ beside us.