The gospel according to TK Maxx?

I’m a regular at retail store TK Maxx. I get all my shirts there, so I go in regularly to rummage.

In early August, I was startled to see Halloween gear already on display. Doesn’t Halloween come earlier every year? No surprise really: it’s now reckoned to be the UK’s biggest festival after Christmas. That’s strange for a Gen-Xer like me. In the 1980s, Bonfire Night was far more exciting; sparklers, fireworks, a giant bonfire plus the thrill of burning “the guy,” usually made from second-hand clothes stuffed with straw or newspaper. Written down, it sounds a bit Wicker Man, doesn’t it?

Fast forward 40 years: Guy Fawkes Night is now an awkward reminder of the violent death of a Catholic traitor, at a time when Roman Catholics are as likely as Anglicans to be in church. Maybe that’s why it’s been eclipsed by the revival of Halloween.

The history of Halloween

Some love to say Halloween goes back to pagan times (as if that somehow makes it more authentically English), but Steve Roud, in his excellent The English Year, notes: “Hallowe’en is probably the most widely misunderstood and misrepresented day in the festival year, but so many now believe that it was originally a pagan festival of the dead that this belief is virtually impossible to shake.”

The truth is disappointingly simple for secularists and pagans: All Hallows’ Eve exists because of All Hallows’ Day, established in the eighth century by Pope Gregory III as a memorial for all Christians, not just martyrs. Later, Pope Gregory IV extended it across the Church. By the 13th century, as belief in purgatory took hold, All Hallows and All Souls’ Day became associated with prayers for the dead. Requiem masses and bell-ringing were meant to help souls on their way to heaven.

The Reformers weren’t convinced; reading their new Bibles in their own languages, they found little Scriptural support for purgatory. Instead, they latched onto Hebrews 10v12-14, which says Christ’s single sacrifice was sufficient for all time. Purging sins after death is neither necessary nor possible.

“Trick or Treating,” as we know it, is more modern. Mischief Night took place at other times of the year (like May Day Eve on 30 April), but seemed to coalesce around 31 October in the 1950s. Modern British Halloween owes much to the cultural dominance of America. Every US sitcom eventually has a Halloween episode, a great excuse for costumes and silliness. The UK, however, seems to be leaning towards a darker, gorier vibe.

Could Christians reclaim Halloween?

What does this say about us? Perhaps it’s part of a wider spiritual hunger. On my Stand-Up Theologian podcast, Glen Scrivener argues that the atheist high-water mark of the early 2000s already looks like a blip. Many now sense there’s more to life than what we see - hence renewed interest in the whole spectrum of belief from Animism to Zen Buddhism.

Christians could reclaim Halloween. We could tell stories of demons shrieking at the name of Jesus, or Saul consulting a witch and being condemned by Samuel’s ghost. The devil doesn’t own the best stories - we do.

We could also revive other festivals. Holy Cross Day (15 September), celebrating Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice. Michaelmas (29 September), remembering the Archangel Michael defeating the serpent. Or 16 October, commemorating Bishops Latimer and Ridley, burned for their faith in Oxford in 1555.

If we shape culture and celebrate our Christian heritage year after year as our ancestors did, then who knows? Maybe one day, August will see TK Maxx putting out dolls of Bishop Hugh Latimer. I’d buy one.