The other day our 10-year-old son asked us to go 50/50 with him on some Minion goggles to perfect his Halloween costume. We appreciated his opening bid. We laughed, called it a deal, and clicked purchase.

But laughs aside, this interaction is worth reflecting on. If we look at what our culture does to Christmas and Easter, then the commercialization of “All Hallows’ Eve”—the vigil of All Saints—should come as no surprise.

How did we go from commemorating a sacred day to Minion goggles, from “hallow” (holy) “e’en” (evening) to a sugar-addled fright fest that can easily slip by with zero reference to the saints? And what should Catholic parents do with this part of Level 4, Family Culture?

Minions aside, any good Catholic parent who observes even some of the glorification of evil in our cultural milieu surrounding Halloween might be tempted to shut down the celebration altogether. No devil costumes, no serial killers! But, growing up, Ever’s parents had a nice way of splitting the difference, and we’ve mostly followed their path.

The Horans would celebrate Halloween by dressing up in generally-friendly costumes, visiting their grandparents for cider and cookies, and going trick-or-treating. But they drew the line at participating in or celebrating anything overly dark. And they would even on occasion join with other Catholic families for an All Saints’ Day party and dress up as saints.
 
Following in that vein, our kids have enjoyed a festive celebration of Halloween that excludes the dark stuff, and then also dressed up as saints for their CCD classes that fall around Halloween. It’s a nice way to enjoy the season, avoid the evil one’s influence, and be inspired by the cultural reference to our Catholic faith.

In his reflection on Halloween, Bishop David Konderla of Tulsa writes, “By dressing up as saints…, we imagine ourselves following their example of Christian discipleship.” He suggests that this practice helps us to become “‘living icons of the saints, who are themselves ‘icons’ or ‘windows’ offering real-life examples of the imitation of Christ.”
 
In other words, Halloween used to be—and still can be—at least partly about the call to holiness. Even the more frightful examples we see around us on Halloween, Kondorla writes, point in that direction. “Props such as skulls and scythes have historically recalled our mortality,” he continues, “reminding us to be holy because we are destined for judgment.”
 
So where does this leave us? Briefly, we’d like to suggest a few steps to consider as Halloween approaches:

• Refrain from seeming to celebrate evil in costumes or decorations. As Kondorla wrote, “Grim or ghoulish costumes…can be mistaken as a…veneration of evil or of death itself.” And as the Catechism says, we need to “refrain from glamorizing or celebrating anything involving superstition, witches, witchcraft, sorcery, divinations, magic, and the occult” (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2210-2117). 
• Lead a family conversation in which you share about Halloween’s sacred origins, and how our culture tends to hijack it in a direction that can seem to glorify evil.    
• Start a family tradition that emphasizes the communion of saints. 

The $10.6 billion dollar Halloween blowout (up from $10.1 billion last year) is fast approaching. As it does, the question for us as parents is not so much whether to go 50/50 on the Minion goggles. Instead, the question is whether or not we will protect our children from dark influences and invite them to recall the invitation to holiness—the “hallow”—on the eve of All Saints.