Tag: Roman

Halloween: A Reflection on Darkness and Light

Brent Pollard

A Matter of Personal Conviction

Whether or not a Christian should take part in Halloween festivities is ultimately a matter of personal conviction and conscience. As Paul wrote, “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (Romans 14.5). I respect that there is a difference between believers attending wholesome community events—such as church-sponsored “trunk-or-treats”—and those who embrace the world’s fascination with the macabre. However, I want to caution Christians not to join the world in celebrating darkness, fear, and death.

Jesus taught that His followers are to be “the light of the world” (Matthew 5.14). How can we reflect His light if we participate in a celebration that often glorifies the very darkness we are called to overcome (Ephesians 5.8–11)?

The Pagan Origins of Halloween

Halloween’s origins trace back to the Celtic festival of Samhain, which marked the end of the harvest and the start of winter. The Celts believed that on this night, the barrier between the living and the dead weakened, allowing spirits to roam freely. To protect themselves, they lit bonfires and wore disguises to confuse wandering souls.

Scripture repeatedly warns against attempts to communicate with or ward off the dead. God told Israel, “There shall not be found among you… a medium or a necromancer or one who inquires of the dead” (Deuteronomy 18.10–11). Though today’s observance may seem harmless, its roots were steeped in superstition and fear of spirits rather than faith in God’s providence.

Roman Influence and Ancient Traditions

When Rome conquered Celtic lands, two Roman observances were merged with Samhain—one honoring the dead (Feralia) and the other celebrating Pomona, the goddess of fruit and trees. Some historians suggest that the custom of bobbing for apples originated from Pomona’s symbol, the apple.

This blending of pagan and civic ritual was typical of the ancient world. Yet Christians are urged not to conform to the world’s customs (Romans 12.2) or mix holy devotion with pagan superstition (2 Corinthians 6.14–17).

The Catholic Church and All Saints’ Day

In 609 AD, Boniface IV consecrated the Roman Pantheon to “All Saints,” creating a day to honor Christian martyrs. This celebration, later shifted to November 1 in the eighth century by Gregory III, is now called All Saints’ Day or All Hallows’ Day. The night before—All Hallows’ Eve—gradually evolved into “Halloween.”

Later, All Souls’ Day (November 2) was added to pray for all departed believers, forming a three-day observance known as Hallowtide. The intent may have been to Christianize pagan customs, but as with many such efforts, the old superstitions persisted under new names.

How Halloween Came to America

Medieval Europeans practiced “souling,” going door to door to offer prayers for the dead in exchange for food. Children later began “guising,” dressing in costumes to receive gifts. These traditions were brought to America by Irish and Scottish immigrants. In America, pumpkins replaced turnips as lanterns, and Halloween evolved into a largely secular, community-centered celebration.

However, Christians should remember that not all cultural inheritance is worth keeping. Paul reminded the Corinthians that while “everything is permissible,” not everything is beneficial (1 Corinthians 10.23).

The Dark Turn: From Pranks to Violence

From the late 1800s through the early 20th century, Halloween was often marked by destructive mischief—toppled outhouses, broken fences, and vandalized property. Communities responded by encouraging “trick-or-treating” as a safer alternative, channeling youthful energy into friendly fun instead of lawlessness (cf. Romans 13.10).

The Wholesome Era: Mid-Century Innocence

For several decades, Halloween reflected a more innocent, child-centered character. The imagery of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966) captures that gentler spirit. But this era was short-lived. Beginning with Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and crystallized by 1978’s Halloween, the holiday once again took a darker tone. Instead of laughter and imagination, horror and bloodshed became its trademarks.

Modern Halloween: A Culture of Fear and Death

Today, many Halloween attractions and films glorify brutality and fear. The Saw franchise, “haunted” attractions that simulate torture, and “extreme haunts” that require liability waivers all reveal a troubling fascination with terror and pain. This fascination often crosses the line from harmless fun to a celebration of evil. The prophet Isaiah’s warning feels relevant: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5.20).

When society laughs at what should make it grieve, something vital has been lost. As Thomas Aquinas noted, when fear and cruelty turn into entertainment, compassion withers.

What Does the Bible Say About Halloween?

The Bible does not explicitly mention Halloween, but its principles still apply. We are told to “abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5.22) and to think on “whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable” (Philippians 4.8). These principles guide our decision-making and help us discern what is beneficial to our faith.

Christ’s victory over darkness is total. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1.5). We do not need to dabble in darkness to prove our courage or find excitement. Our joy comes from walking in the light (1 John 1.7).

Practicing Christian Discernment on Halloween

Discernment is essential. Paul commands, “Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good” (Romans 12.9). The question isn’t whether a Christian can hand out candy or dress up—it’s whether we are celebrating fear or reflecting faith.

Our participation should always glorify Christ (Colossians 3.17). If we choose to engage with the day at all, let it be to share light, kindness, and the gospel with our neighbors. “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12.21).

Conclusion: Light in the Midst of Darkness

On a night when much of the world delights in fear, the Christian’s calling is to stand as a beacon of peace and truth. Rather than imitating the darkness, we can offer an alternative—a message of victory through Christ, who conquered death itself. Let us be inspired to be that beacon, to share the light of Christ in the midst of darkness.

“For once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light” (Ephesians 5.8).

Bread And Circuses

Neal Pollard

An early second-century Latin satirist named Juvenal is credited with giving the world the phrase, “bread and circuses.” In context, he wrote, “They shed their sense of responsibility long ago, when they lost their votes, and the bribes; the mob that used to grant power, high office, the legions, everything, curtails its desires, and reveals its anxiety for two things only, bread and circuses (Book 2, lines 10.56-89). The predominant idea in this now-famous line is that the populace lost its interest in political freedom and civic responsibility, being numbed and lured most by physical satisfaction and entertainment. In modern times, the phrase has been used to speak of food and entertainment being used by the government to keep people happy and submissive.

What makes this such an effective strategy? Perhaps it is a human tendency to favor pleasure over hard work and laziness over critical thinking, among other things. A love of ease and the illusion of peace can cause a person to surrender things of far greater value to keep them. Those things might be absolute truth, God-given moral values, personal sacrifice, care of and connection to community, charity, and similar building blocks of society. When we reduce our existence to placating our baser desires, we let go of what is much more valuable and this is to our ultimate harm. 

No doubt we see this increasingly in our national political environment, but can we succumb to the mindset of yearning for “bread and circuses” in the religious realm? Apparently so. Paul warned about “difficult times” when men would be “lovers of self, lovers of money…and lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God” (2 Tim. 3:1,2,4). In such times, they would “not endure sound doctrine, but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires, and will turn away their ears from the truth and will turn aside to myths” (2 Tim. 4:3-4). It seems easier to follow the flesh than to live by faith, but it is spiritually fatal. It is described as going from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived (2 Tim. 3:13). In the first letter to Timothy, Paul wrote, “But she who gives herself to wanton pleasure is dead even while she lives” (1 Tim. 5:6).

This isn’t to suggest that being a foodie or that watching TV shows and movies is sinful. That misses the greater point of Scripture. It is possible to let life become more about gratifying our bodies and putting our greater focus on the things of this world, and that is sinful. Paul tells us how to put all of that in its proper place, urging, “Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31). “Bread and circuses” can be legitimate ways to build connections with people whose never-dying souls will live somewhere, but they can never become an end in themselves. We were created for infinitely more! 

Encouragement For An Introverted Convict

Gary Pollard

A little less than 2,000 years ago, a man named Timothy moved to a beautiful coastal town in what is now Selçuk, Turkey. His mom and grandma were Jewish and his dad was Greek. When he was possibly about 45 years old, he moved to Ephesus to work with a newly formed group of Christians. Before this, he traveled with Paul all over the Roman empire telling people about Jesus and how he came back to life. 

By Jewish standards for a teacher, Timothy was a young man. He may have been naturally introverted and had difficulty with confrontation (I Cor 16.10, II Tim 1.7-8). Besides this, he had a criminal record in the Roman empire. He was arrested at least once for teaching about Jesus (Heb 13.23), possibly while he was working with the church in Ephesus. 

He had a very tough job— Ephesus was dealing with bad influences (like Judaism and Gnostic groups) and Timothy had to stop them. This was obviously very difficult for him. Paul wrote I Timothy as a pilot’s checklist of what God wanted for his family. It was also a gentle push for Timothy to keep those bad influences out of the church. This wasn’t enough of a push, though, because II Timothy is far more direct and has a distinct air of reprimand. 

Despite his weaknesses, Timothy was an awesome person and a very hard worker. Next week we’ll start our study of I Timothy 1. 

Considering Our Legacy

Friday’s Column: Brent’s Bent

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Brent Pollard

Have you ever heard of a necropolis? It means a “city of the dead.” We are most likely familiar with the necropolises left by the ancient Egyptians, but they exist among other cultures as well. For example, there is a necropolis near Dargavs, Russia. They say that if you look inside the windows of the “houses” in this city, you can see the inhabitants with their possessions. Unlike Egypt, Russia’s necropolis, which I’ve referenced were for the commoner. There are about 10,000 “residents” of this necropolis. Such monuments to the dead fascinate me. Why do men build such monuments and, indeed, cities for the dead? 

I think the word that most often comes to mind is legacy. People want to leave a legacy, the proof of their existence. Legacy derives from the Latin “legate.” A legate was a post in the Roman army. The Roman Senate tasked a general with a particular task which the soldier faithfully performed. It is not difficult to see how the word evolved likewise to indicate a messenger or diplomat. By the middle ages, a legate became someone executing another’s will. Thus, as we think of our legacy, we are referring to that which outlives us. It is something testifying about our life. It serves to impart a message or gift to the future. 

The Hebrews’ writer says Abel left such a legacy. “By faith Abel offered to God a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he obtained the testimony that he was righteous, God testifying about his gifts, and through faith, though he is dead, he still speaks” (Hebrews 11.4 ). The remarkable thing about Abel’s legacy is that God serves as his Legate. Thus, God provides this testimony about the departed Abel. Hence, one cannot doubt the truthfulness of the testimony. That, friends, is better than any pyramid or endowment. 

Men often praise those unworthy of such following their demise because they held power or prestige. Plus, their efforts to honor the deceased eventually come to naught. Again, I am mindful of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem, Ozymandias. A traveler tells of a monument upon which he happened. The monument’s inscription suggests the visitor look upon his works and despair. But there was nothing but a desert waste as far as the traveler could see. Even so, the fictional Ozymandias was so proud. He was confident in his legacy, which decayed with time. 

As we contemplate our legacy, we may think of progeny to carry our DNA into the future. God even says that children are a reward (Psalm 127.3). But we are powerless to change the people our offspring become in adulthood. Yes, we trust Solomon’s proverb about a trained child not departing from the way (Proverbs 22.6). But we know this is not universal. Therefore, future generations may soil one’s genetic legacy by their conduct. This phenomenon was undoubtedly the case with the few righteous kings of Judah, whose sons often did evil in worshipping foreign gods. 

No, the only suitable legacy is one whose Legate is God. Like Abel, we need to ensure that our deeds please Him to Whom we must give account. Our righteousness is like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64.6 KJV). But when we are faithful, like the man with five talents, we will be welcomed into the joys of our Master (Matthew 25.20-21). It may be that when I “shuffle off this mortal coil,” none but my family and close friends will note my passing. If I have the testimony of God, though, I will have something far greater than any monument people may leave for me. So, strive not for earthly accolades or a fleshly heritage. Instead, work to ensure that God provides your eternal legacy.  

Narcissus and Echo 

Friday’s Column: Supplemental Strength

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Brent Pollard

Greek mythology is fascinating. So much so, in fact, that the Romans co-opted it as their own. As such, the Roman poet, Ovid, tells us the story of Narcissus and Echo within Metamorphoses. You likely recognize Narcissus’ name because of the mental disorder named for him. Narcissism. You may not have known that the phenomenon called an “echo” also derives its name from a mythic figure. Echo was a beautiful, but talkative, forest nymph. She cut off the goddess Juno so much during conversations that the peeved goddess cursed her with the capacity only to repeat the last words spoken by others. 

Without delving too deeply into the mythology, suffice it to say Echo fell in love with the picky Narcissus, whose standard for a consort was so high that none could meet his expectations, including poor Echo. Already cursed, Echo was not able to convey her feelings to Narcissus. On one fateful day, however, Narcissus had sensed Echo’s presence and called out, “Is anyone there?” After she replied in the same, he said, “Come here!” Echo ran to Narcissus as she repeated his command. Echo’s actions repulsed Narcissus. He told her he would sooner die than allow her to enjoy his company. Echo was humiliated and ran away. Yet, she continued to love Narcissus. The vengeful goddess, Nemesis, saw Narcissus’ actions. She cursed him by making him fall deeply in love with his reflection. 

There was no redemption for Narcissus and Echo. Narcissus lingered by the pool of water, looking longingly at his reflection. Echo persisted in her love for Narcissus. As the years passed, Echo’s beauty faded, and her body wasted away, leaving only her voice. Narcissus committed suicide, realizing his impossible love would remain unrequited. A flower bloomed where he killed himself. Yes, the narcissus.  

It is easy to use Narcissus as an object lesson for us, spiritually.  Both James and Peter quote Proverbs 3.34 from the Septuagint to remind us that God resists the proud (James 4.6; 1 Peter 5.5). A haughty look is something we know God hates (Proverbs 6.17). Our Lord went about doing good (Acts 10.38). Since He is our example (1 Peter 2.21), Paul tells us: “do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.” (Philippians 2.4 NASB) 

But what lessons do we derive from Echo? Her tongue is what initially got her into trouble. Just because the tongue is an unruly member, per James 3, doesn’t mean that we should not seek to control it. There is the talk we must avoid (Ephesians 4.29; 5.4; Philippians 2.14). Besides this prohibited speech, there remains gossip and lying, which both Testaments condemn (Exodus 20.16; Psalm 15.1-3; Proverbs 6.19; 2 Corinthians 12.20; 1 Timothy 5.11-13; Titus 2.3). 

Echo also squandered a precious commodity in her quixotic pursuit of Narcissus, time. We are supposed to take advantage of the time given to us (Ephesians 5.15-17). There comes the point where even preaching the Gospel to the hard-hearted equivalent of a brick wall is like casting “what is holy to dogs” and throwing “pearls before swine” (Matthew 7.6). 

Lastly, Echo loved someone incapable of justifying the precious investment of her heart. The world is like Narcissus in that regard. John reminds us that the world with its lusts will one day pass away (1 John 2.15-17). Even so, how many have laid up treasure on the earth? (Matthew 6.19-21; Luke 12.33-34). We cannot pursue both God and mammon (“wealth” NASB— Matthew 6.24).  

May it be that as you search your heart that you find no kindred spirit with Narcissus and Echo. Focus outwardly upon others’ needs, be mindful of the precious commodity of time, and give your heart—and tongue—to the One Who will best use and appreciate it (cf. Matthew 22.36-38).