The Moral in My Meatloaf

By Christina Moore
Staff Writer

CBN.com – It’s Halloween night. The scent of the meatloaf in my oven is inviting, but I think the bowl of candy on my doorstep is what draws my neighbors and their kids. In fact, the whole neighborhood is aglow with the orange twinkle of jack o lanterns, preparing the way for tiny masqueraders offering to “trick” or “treat” our homes. And while it all seems quite quaint and there is holiday cheer in the air, there is something amiss in my heart.

Since I was a young child, I have understood the reality of this night. I have appreciated the nature of this “holy” day because I grew up in a place where witchcraft was not only common, but it was accepted, and even celebrated, as a heritage. In 4th grade, for instance, a “real witch” came to school and told us about herself and her holiday. That day was the day I first understood my charge as a member of God’s army. It was the first time I understood what it meant to be different, and it was the first time I answered God’s call to set myself apart. That day, I left grade school in protest, and spent the day at home with my mom, who heartily rewarded my young exercise of faith.

It all seemed so simple then. The choice was clear; it was black and white. I was either going to celebrate the witch’s special day, or I was going to please God. I could not do both back then, and I’m not certain that I can do both now, either.

I mean, what has changed, really?

Back then, the other kids thought I was nuts. Why not make a cool costume and get some candy? Why not take advantage of the only night of the year it was okay with mom and dad to eat as much candy as my teeth and tummy could handle? But I knew the answer, and I also knew that no Bible character costume could convince God or anyone else, that I was not still celebrating the witch’s holiday. Back then, I was less concerned about losing my friends than I was about offending my most precious Lord. And it just so happens that God honored me back, because my friends were not alienated at all, they were only curious.

And now, as I sit here on the couch I realize that the only thing the years since then have changed, is my ability to justify (to myself that is) what is wrong. Despite all of my well reasoned arguments about participating, in the end, I will still choose to celebrate or not celebrate an unholy tradition. And I should know better, anyway. Setting myself apart will not alienate my neighbors or cause me to miss an opportunity to reach them; it will simply make them more curious. If I love them every day, today will not bother them.

What’s as important today as it was when I was a child is honoring God, and to me that means protesting a tradition that is meant to slap him in the face. Rooted in Druidism and pagan worship, it is not a redeemable tradition, so I will not attempt to make this “holiday” a Christian celebration. I will simply close my door, put away the bowl of candy and shut off the light on my doorstep.

I will honor God tonight, by loving Him more than I love my neighbors. I will honor him tonight, by praying for them, and by asking Him to create an opportunity for them to come on in past my doorstep some night, and enjoy my meatloaf.