Write About Now

I’m guessing at least 50% of you attended a “Harvest Party” or “Trunk-n-Treat” at your church last month, and at least 25% more attend a church that held one.

Which is all fine, as far as it goes, although I take issue with two of the most commonly given reasons for these sugar-fests: that they provide a safer alternative to traditional trick or treating, and that they are a powerful outreach activity to the community.

Although some local news stations still dust off the razor-blades-in-the-apples story each October, Snopes.com disproved every instance of candy tampering ever reported in conjunction with Halloween. It’s just a myth—as is, most likely, the adult who actually gave apples.

These events also fail to reach our communities. Lots of people may show up and the church might receive some good press. A few families may even return for a weekend worship service because of the experience they have on your campus—although I’d bet a Snickers bar your church doesn’t know if that’s happening. Meanwhile, we spend hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars recruiting volunteers, organizing games, and haranguing church members for candy donations.

Or there’s Christmas. I don’t have the Snopes link to prove it, but do you know anyone who became a Christian because of a Christmas cantata? Usually the audience for such things is comprised of the family and friends of those in the choir, most of whom are already believers. (This is doubly true for children’s programs.) Again, the investment of time and energy  is out of all proportion to the spiritual ROI.

If we really want to show love to our neighbors at Halloween, we could follow the example of my own parents, who make a big pot of apple cider, park themselves in lawn chairs at the bottom of their driveway, and give cups of the hot drink to every tired, cold parent who comes along with his tiny princess/pirate/Disney character. They talk to their neighbors, serve them in a small way, extend friendship, and ooh and aah over little people in costumes. (They give candy, too, the good stuff—kids aren’t excited about cider.)

Or, like Journey Christian Church, we could organize a “Light Night” and challenge members to creatively transform their homes into places of light and welcome on this traditionally dark evening. My fellow blogger Arron, who serves as senior minister at Journey, says the church offered a variety of ways for people to participate (set up games or bounce houses, make popcorn or cotton candy, host costume contests, and–yes!–give out hot cider). Members were encouraged to distribute info about Journey’s programs for kids and copies of the Gospel of John along with the candy.

At Christmas, what if we asked church members to spend Wednesday night having dinner with a non-Christian neighbor instead of attending choir practice with lots of already-Christians? What if, instead of lining the sanctuary with video cameras to capture Junior’s debut as wiseman #3, we opened our homes for Advent parties for all our kid’s friends?

I’m really not lecturing—there’s more I can do in this area, too. But let’s be honest—we do Fall Fests and Christmas pageants because these things make us feel good. If we really wanted to serve and reach non-Christians, we’d be doing something else.