From Samhain to Halloween: Why Believers Cannot Join the Darkness

Introduction

Every October, millions dress in costumes, carve pumpkins, and celebrate Halloween as though it were nothing more than a harmless cultural tradition. Streets fill with children seeking candy, homes glow with carved lanterns, and entire communities embrace the imagery of ghosts, skeletons, and witches. To most, it is marketed as entertainment — playful, creative, and innocent.

Yet behind the candy and costumes lies a deeper story, one that cannot be ignored. The roots of Halloween are not neutral. They are bound up with ancient superstition, pagan ritual, and practices that the Scriptures call detestable. What began as attempts to appease spirits of the dead and ward off unseen powers has been repackaged across centuries — adapted by Rome, reshaped by the medieval church, and finally commercialised into the festival we know today. But at every stage, its core themes of death, darkness, and counterfeit spirituality have remained.

For followers of Messiah, the question is not whether Halloween is popular or culturally acceptable, but whether it aligns with the holiness to which יהוה calls His people. Scripture warns us: “You are all sons of light and sons of the day. We are not of the night nor of darkness” (1 Thessalonians 5:5). What the world laughs at as fun is, in truth, a trivialisation of evil and a distortion of resurrection hope.

This article will examine the origins and history of Halloween — from its Celtic and Roman beginnings to its adoption and adaptation by the church, and finally its modern commercialisation. More importantly, it will show why, in light of Scripture, this festival remains unsuitable for believers who are called not to conform to the world but to walk in the light of Messiah.

Ancient Celtic Origins: Samhain

Disclaimer: Our knowledge of Samhain comes mainly from medieval Irish manuscripts written centuries after the pre-Christian period, and from later folklore and historical interpretation. These sources can be sparse, fragmentary, and sometimes romanticised. Yet taken together, they consistently portray Samhain as a festival tied to seasonal change, gatherings, supernatural activity, and the presence of spirits.

The origins of Halloween can be traced back more than two millennia to the ancient Celtic festival known as Samhain (pronounced sow-in). This observance, deeply woven into the life of the Celtic peoples of Ireland, Scotland, and parts of Britain, marked a pivotal moment in the yearly cycle: the end of the harvest and the onset of winter. It was a time of transition, when the days grew shorter, the nights colder, and the natural world seemed to be dying all around them. For the Celts, this season of withering fields and falling leaves was closely associated with death and darkness.

According to their beliefs, on the night of October 31st the boundary between the world of the living and the realm of the dead grew unusually thin. Spirits of the departed were thought to cross freely into the land of the living. Some of these spirits were believed to be benevolent, returning to visit their families, but others were feared as hostile or mischievous, capable of bringing harm, sickness, or misfortune.

In response to this fear, elaborate customs developed. Great bonfires were lit across the hillsides, not only as a source of warmth and light but also as a ritual act of purification and protection against the unseen forces of the night. People disguised themselves in masks and costumes, hoping either to frighten away these wandering spirits or to blend in with them and thus escape notice. Food and drink were also left out as offerings, either to placate the spirits or to provide sustenance for the dead on their journey.

From its very inception, Samhain was a festival preoccupied with death, the afterlife, and the spiritual realm. It was not a celebration of life, but a season marked by fear, uncertainty, and attempts to appease unseen powers. Such customs reflect a worldview rooted in superstition and darkness — entirely opposed to the hope of resurrection and eternal life revealed in the Scriptures. The Word of יהוה is unmistakably clear regarding our contact with the dead: “Let no one be found among you who… consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to יהוה” (Deuteronomy 18:10–12). Likewise, “Do not turn to mediums or seek out spiritists, for you will be defiled by them. I am יהוה your Aluhym” (Leviticus 19:31).

The seriousness of this is seen in the life of King Saul. When יהוה no longer answered him, Saul sought out the medium at Endor and demanded that she call up the prophet Samuel from the dead (1 Samuel 28). His act of desperation — an attempt to pierce the veil that Aluhym Himself had closed — brought only condemnation and foretold his death. What Saul did in fear, Samhain institutionalised as festival.

Instead of cultivating fear of spirits, believers are called to live in the confidence of Messiah: “For Aluhym has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). Furthermore, Sha’ul says that we are “all sons of light and sons of the day … not of the night nor of darkness.” (1 Thessalonians 5:5). Adding further in Romans 13:12: “The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armour of light.”

Even in the shadow of death, the believer has confidence in יהוה: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” (Psalm 23:4). Our hope is not in appeasing the dead but in the Living Aluhym, who declares, “I am the Aluhym of Abraham, the Aluhym of Isaac, and the Aluhym of Jacob — He is not the Aluhym of the dead, but of the living” (Matthew 22:32).

From the very start, then, the essence of Samhain was fundamentally at odds with the calling of יהוה’s people. It stands as an example of what the Scriptures command us to renounce: the works of darkness, communion with the dead, and fear of unseen powers. Against this backdrop, the Good News proclaims a different message — not fear, but resurrection hope, “for the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed” (1 Corinthians 15:52).

Yet even as the Celtic world was steeped in fear and superstition, new layers of darkness were soon added. When the Roman Empire expanded into these lands, their own pagan festivals blended with Samhain, reinforcing and deepening the season’s preoccupation with death — the very things Scripture commands us to reject.

Roman Influence

When the Romans extended their rule into Celtic lands in the first century AD, their own calendar of festivals came into contact with the native observances. Inevitably, elements of Roman practice blended with local traditions. One such observance was Feralia, a day set aside toward the end of October to honour the dead. Families marked this occasion with offerings to departed loved ones, reinforcing the link between the season and remembrance of those who had passed.

Another was the festival of Pomona, which celebrated the goddess of fruit and abundance. Pomona was often symbolised by the apple, a fruit closely tied to harvest and fertility. Some historians suggest that later folk customs, such as the game of apple-bobbing, may trace faint echoes of this association, though the connection is debated.

The presence of these Roman feasts, alongside the already significant Celtic Samhain, served to deepen the connection between late October and themes of death, transition, and the unseen world. The season became ever more firmly marked by rituals that acknowledged the end of life’s cycle and the approach of winter’s darkness.

It was into this environment of entrenched superstition that the church arrived. Rather than finding a blank slate, Christianity encountered a season already saturated with death-focused traditions. This posed a challenge: would the church displace these customs with the truth of Messiah, or would compromise blur the line between light and darkness?

The Church’s Response: All Saints and All Souls

As Christianity spread throughout Europe, the church was confronted with the enduring strength of local customs tied to the turning of the seasons. Festivals like Samhain could not simply be erased; they were deeply ingrained in the rhythm of life and memory. Instead, the church sought to redirect these observances toward the worship of Aluhym and the remembrance of His people.

In 609 AD, Pope Boniface IV consecrated the Pantheon in Rome as a church in honour of the Virgin Mary and all Christian martyrs. At the same time, he instituted a feast of All Saints, originally set on May 13, as a day to honour the countless believers who had borne witness to Christ, many through suffering and death. This feast provided the faithful with a holy alternative to the pagan rites of commemoration that still lingered in society.

A century later, during the reign of Pope Gregory III (731–741), the feast was moved to November 1. He dedicated a chapel in St. Peter’s Basilica to “all the saints,” and from then on, November 1 became the official day of their commemoration in Rome. The shift in date is significant. While no surviving decree declares, “We are replacing Samhain,” the placement of All Saints’ Day directly beside the old Celtic festival of death and spirits is striking. It seems highly likely that the church intended to supplant a season of superstition with one of sanctity, offering Christians a way to mark the time without slipping into pagan fears.

Under Pope Gregory IV (827–844), the November 1 feast was extended to the entire Western church. In time, it was joined by All Souls’ Day on November 2, a commemoration of all the faithful departed, with prayers offered for their rest. Together, these feasts created a three-day observance: October 31 became All Hallows’ Eve, the vigil before All Saints’ Day, and thus the immediate precursor to what would later be called “Halloween.”

Did the church deliberately “Christianise” Samhain? The evidence is not entirely clear. There is no surviving proclamation from Rome stating that the festival of the saints was intended to replace the Celtic festival of the dead. Yet the broader pattern of Christian holy days aligning with pagan observances is well established — Christmas falling close to Saturnalia is one well-known example. Moreover, medieval sermons and church decrees frequently condemned practices that smacked of paganism: bonfires, disguises, and food offerings persisted in popular custom, even as the church tried to purge them.

The reality seems to be that the church did not merge with paganism but sought to overcome it. It attempted to reframe the season from one of fear to one of faith, from appeasing restless spirits to honouring the saints of Aluhym. Yet in practice, the older customs often proved stubborn, clinging to the festival and surviving alongside the church’s holy days. Sha'ul’s warning fits this moment well: “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ” (Colossians 2:8). 

When the church compromised with pagan observances, it risked exchanging the truth of Messiah for the traditions of men. The result was a hybrid observance — a Christian feast intertwined with echoes of the very superstitions it was meant to displace. Historian Nicholas Rogers observes that Halloween developed “in conjunction with the medieval holy days of All Saints’ and All Souls’ Day,” while still drawing on older Celtic seasonal patterns (Halloween: From Pagan Ritual to Party Night, 2002, p. 22). Similarly, Ronald Hutton notes in The Stations of the Sun that “there is abundant evidence for the continuing practice of traditional rites” alongside church observances, suggesting that the result was very likely a hybrid festival shaped by both Christian devotion and older superstition (1996, pp. 365–370).

For believers, this history is instructive. Even well-intentioned attempts to “Christianise” or redirect pagan festivals can leave space for compromise. What began as an effort to sanctify the calendar too often resulted in a blending of light with darkness — something Scripture warns against: “What fellowship has light with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14). Sha’ul presses this further: “Come out from them and be separate, says יהוה. Touch no unclean thing, and I will receive you.” (2 Corinthians 6:17). Compromise with the world’s festivals always leads to blurred witness, but separation leads to blessing. 

Additionally, יהוה commands His people, “Take heed to yourself that you are not ensnared to follow them… and that you do not inquire after their gods, saying, ‘How did these nations serve their gods? I also will do likewise.’ You shall not worship יהוה your Aluhym in that way” (Deuteronomy 12:30–31). With these verses in mind, we must remember that our worship of Aluhym is not expressed merely through words or outward confession, but through the very actions of our lives. Our bodies are presented as living sacrifices, and we are called to be ambassadors of יהוה. Therefore, if we participate in or acknowledge the abominable practices associated with Samhain or Halloween, we are, in effect, recognising the gods, spirits, and rituals connected with them. In doing so, we profane the worship of יהוה by attempting to honour Him through actions He has not commanded—actions that, in themselves, reflect allegiance to what He calls abominable.

It is striking that these hybrid observances arose in the very season when יהוה Himself had already appointed His own holy days. In Leviticus 23, the fall feasts are laid out with precision: Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets), Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), and Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles). Unlike festivals rooted in fear of death or superstition about spirits, these appointed times proclaim covenant promises of redemption, atonement, and the joy of dwelling with Aluhym. Each one points to Messiah in its own way: the trumpet heralding His return, the atonement fulfilled in His sacrifice, and the tabernacle anticipating His presence with His people. Together they shine with the hope of resurrection and eternal life, not shadows of dread. For this reason, the feasts of יהוה remain far more fitting for the people of Aluhym than any substitute fashioned by human hands. They are His appointed seasons, set apart to remind us of His saving work and His coming kingdom. In keeping them, believers proclaim not fear, but faith; not appeasement of restless spirits, but the worship of the Living Aluhym who has conquered death in Messiah.

Yet despite these efforts, old practices proved stubborn. The blending of church feasts with pagan customs carried forward, shaping medieval traditions that continued to blur the line between biblical truth and superstition. These compromises remind us that when the people of Aluhym adopt the world’s ways, the result is always confusion rather than holiness.

Medieval and Early Modern Practices

As the church’s feasts of All Saints’ and All Souls’ spread through medieval Europe, they inevitably absorbed layers of popular custom. One of the most notable was the practice of “souling.” From at least the 14th century, records in England and Ireland describe the poor going door-to-door on All Hallows’ Eve and All Souls’ Day, offering prayers for the departed in exchange for food, often in the form of small spiced cakes known as “soul cakes.” This tradition, documented in churchwardens’ accounts and even alluded to by Shakespeare, represents a clear forerunner of the trick-or-treating custom that would develop centuries later.

At the same time, the season became heavily associated with superstition. Folklore surrounding witches, spirits, and black cats grew increasingly tied to the end of October and early November, when the dead were believed to be near. These ideas, while not always directly connected to Samhain, show how the season of All Hallows retained its atmosphere of unease and otherworldly fear.

Bonfires and disguises also endured as popular customs, particularly in Ireland and Scotland. People lit great fires at Halloween for protection and divination, and accounts from the early modern period describe youths donning masks or costumes (“guising”) while visiting homes. Church authorities frequently condemned such practices as remnants of heathenism, yet they persisted stubbornly in popular culture. Ronald Hutton notes that even into the 17th century, ministers in Scotland were still preaching against “the filthy practices” of Halloween night, which mixed prayer, mischief, and superstition in ways the church struggled to control.

By the 19th century, Irish and Scottish immigrants carried these seasonal traditions to America. Turnip lanterns carved to ward off spirits became pumpkins, more abundant in the New World. Guising evolved into costume-wearing, and souling into the Americanised custom of going house-to-house for treats. By the early 20th century, these elements fused into the secular Halloween now widely recognised — a festival of masks, pumpkins, and door-to-door merriment, far removed from its medieval and Celtic roots but still haunted by echoes of them.

For Christians, however, the persistence of these customs underscores an important truth: practices entered on the dead, divination, or sorcery are not harmless folklore but are explicitly forbidden by the Word of Aluhym. Again we see this in Deuteronomy 18:10–11: “Let no one be found among you… who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead.” Sha’ul likewise warns that “the acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity… idolatry and witchcraft… those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of Aluhym” (Galatians 5:19–21). As יהוה Himself warns: “I will set my face against the person who turns to mediums and spiritists to prostitute himself by following them, and I will cut him off from his people.” (Leviticus 20:6). This makes clear that even when wrapped in custom or festivity, such practices cannot be sanctified. They belong to the works of darkness, not the kingdom of light.

Modern Halloween and Commercialisation

By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Halloween in America had shifted into a largely secular, community-centred holiday. Newspapers urged parents to replace rowdy pranks with organised festivities, and schools and civic groups hosted parties filled with games, costumes, and seasonal foods. By the 1920s and 1930s, community parades and neighbourhood gatherings had become common. In the decades that followed, Halloween was increasingly tailored for children, with the rise of door-to-door trick-or-treating campaigns in the 1930s and 1940s promoted as a safe, family-friendly alternative to vandalism.

As the century advanced, Halloween underwent a further transformation. It became one of the most commercialised holidays in the Western world, second only to Christmas in consumer spending. Candy companies, costume manufacturers, and the entertainment industry capitalised on the season, turning it into a billion-dollar industry. What had once been a mingling of superstition and church practice was now reshaped by the forces of profit and entertainment. Yet beneath the candy and costumes, Halloween has never truly severed itself from its roots in death, fear, and superstition. The imagery remains saturated with horror and the occult — skeletons and graveyards on lawns, witches and demons on shelves, horror movies and haunted houses dominating popular culture. What the Celts once feared and the medieval church once tried to suppress is now mocked or trivialised, but the effect is the same: the powers of darkness are normalised, dressed in humour and festivity.

But mocking evil does not render it harmless. As Scripture warns: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5:20). When culture dresses darkness in humour and festivity, it dulls the conscience and blurs the line between the holy and the profane — a line that יהוה commands His priests to guard: “You are to distinguish between the holy and the common, and between the unclean and the clean” (Leviticus 10:10; cf. Ezekiel 44:23). Sha’ul exhorts us, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2), and John warns, “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” (1 John 2:15). Instead of laughing at evil, Sha’ul urges, “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them” (Ephesians 5:11). And finally, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:21).

The Word of יהוה is equally firm concerning the things we allow into our homes: “Do not bring a detestable thing into your house or you, like it, will be set apart for destruction. Regard it as vile and utterly detest it, for it is set apart for destruction” (Deuteronomy 7:26). By hanging skeletons, ghosts, witches, and symbols of death all around one’s home, one is not engaging in innocent decoration — but aligning oneself with what יהוה calls abominable. To fill our dwellings with such imagery is to invite darkness where His light should dwell.

Halloween thrives on fear, but Scripture reminds us: “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18). The writer of Hebrews echoes this confidence: “… יהוה is my helper, I shall not fear what man shall do to me.” (Hebrews 13:6). Fear may be the currency of Halloween, but faith in יהוה gives the believer courage and peace.

For this reason, Christians cannot participate in Halloween as though it were a neutral holiday. To do so is to risk embracing what Scripture commands us to reject. Whether through fear or through frivolity, it remains a festival centred on death and darkness — the very things Messiah has conquered. To laugh at death and dress in the garb of demons is no neutral play, but a distortion of the truth. Instead, Christians are called to “shine as lights in the world” (Philippians 2:15), bearing witness to the victory of Christ over sin, death, and the powers of evil.

A Mockery of the Resurrection

The placement of Halloween in the calendar is not accidental in its spiritual effect. Autumn is the very season when יהוה’s appointed times proclaim the hope of resurrection and eternal life.

In Leviticus 23, the fall feasts culminate in Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets), which Sha’ul directly links with the resurrection: “The trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed” (1 Corinthians 15:52), and says of death: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55). Likewise, Messiah Himself declares, “The hour is coming when all who are in the graves will hear His voice and come forth” (John 5:28–29). Whilst the author of Hebrews explains why: “Since the children have flesh and blood, He too shared in their humanity so that by His death He might destroy him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil.” (Hebrews 2:14). And finally, Revelation promises: “Blessed and holy are those who share in the first resurrection. The second death has no power over them.” (Revelation 20:6).

This Feast of Trumpets anticipates not decay but renewal, not despair but the triumph of life over death. Yet in the very same season, the world celebrates Halloween — a counterfeit observance that twists the promise of resurrection into grotesque parody. Instead of the glory of the set-apart ones (saints) raised incorruptible, it parades images of zombies, skeletons, and wandering spirits. What Scripture reveals as the crowning hope of the believer — transformation into the likeness of Messiah and victory over the grave — is mocked as entertainment. People dress as the walking dead, turning resurrection glory into caricature.

In this way, Halloween functions almost like a replacement feast, standing in opposition to the feasts of יהוה. Where His appointed times call us to remember redemption, judgment, and dwelling with Him, Halloween directs hearts toward death, darkness, and mockery of the resurrection. It normalises fear and trivialises what is sacred. Thus, Halloween is not neutral. It is a counterfeit festival that arises precisely when Aluhym has already appointed holy days filled with the promise of resurrection. To embrace it is to exchange the truth for a parody, life for shadows, and the hope of eternal glory for a mockery of the dead.

Conclusion

Having traced Halloween’s journey from ancient superstition to modern celebration, we return to the question that faces every follower of Messiah: how then shall we live?

Halloween’s roots in Samhain, its enduring pagan and occult features, and its mockery of resurrection all testify to why it is unsuitable for believers. What the world celebrates as harmless fun is, in truth, a distortion of what is holy and a trivialisation of evil.

For followers of Messiah, the call is not to blend light with darkness, but to walk in holiness and distinction. Halloween normalises occult fascination and twists the hope of resurrection into parody. To participate is to blur the believer’s witness and weaken the command to live set apart.

Kepha reminds us that our past life in pagan practices is finished:

“For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing, and detestable idolatry. They are surprised that you do not join them in their reckless, wild living, and they heap abuse on you.” — 1 Peter 4:3–4

Instead of joining the world in its festivals of death and darkness, Scripture calls us to holiness:

“As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as He who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do.” — 1 Peter 1:14–15

As ambassadors of יהוה and representatives of His Kingdom, we are to reflect His light and truth to the nations (2 Corinthians 5:20; Matthew 5:14–16). As His royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9), we are commanded to distinguish between the holy and the profane, and between the clean and the unclean (Leviticus 10:10; Ezekiel 44:23). Our lives must embody this distinction so that others may see the beauty of His holiness. Holiness is not withdrawal from the world, but the reflection of a greater hope — the life and light of Messiah shining through His people.

When we engage in practices rooted in darkness, we present a distorted image of His character. But when we walk in obedience and separation, we reveal His light to a world in desperate need of truth. In this, we fulfil our calling to be a light to the nations (Isaiah 49:6), showing by both word and deed that there is none like יהוה, and that His ways bring life, truth, and hope — not fear or darkness. Our separation is not born of condemnation, but of compassion; we shine so that others may see the goodness of יהוה and be drawn to His redeeming light.

The believer’s response, therefore, is not compromise but consecration—turning from the counterfeit and bearing witness to the true. Instead of celebrating death, we proclaim life. Instead of mocking resurrection, we testify to its reality in Messiah. And instead of conforming to the world, we are transformed by His Spirit:

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” — Romans 12:2

As the world delights in shadows, we proclaim the substance—Messiah. While others carve pumpkins and mock death, we remember that death has been defeated. While others embrace counterfeit festivals, we cling to יהוה’s appointed times, which declare redemption, resurrection, and the everlasting joy of dwelling in His presence.

The joy of the believer is not found in the world’s passing shadows, but in the everlasting light of the One who conquered the grave. In Him, we find no fear, for perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18). Our hope is not in the works of men, but in the Living Aluhym, who has called us out of darkness into His marvellous light.

This is the believer’s hope. This is our witness. And this is the light that shines in the darkness — a light the darkness cannot overcome (John 1:5).

May יהוה be with you and bless you.