Observing All Souls: Connecting Through Family Traditions

In our suburban neighborhood, full of families with young children, Halloween is a big deal. People celebrate the full month of October, throwing cul-de-sac parties, hosting countless trunk or treat events, and especially by putting up over-the-top yard decorations. We are surrounded by multiple houses with various witches and ghouls and inflatable cartoon characters, and to my family’s glee, truly giant skeletons. 

Our very favorite house starts the month of October by creating one tableau a week—something simple like a skeleton throwing a frisbee for a skeleton dog or a skeleton family paddling a canoe across the grass. As the holiday approaches, the displays change more frequently and grow more elaborate. Imagine a skeleton ballet class complete with ballet bar and tutus or skeleton cheerleaders forming a pyramid three levels high. This continues, with scene changes every couple of days, until a grand finale on Halloween itself. One year, the final piece involved a 12-foot skeleton with glowing eyes towering over a battle of fifty or so regular-sized ones. Another year, a giant skeleton grim reaper glowed purple amid rank upon rank of skeletons bowing down in obeisance. 

We drive by this house as often as possible, even if it takes us out of our way, because the joy the creators of these scenes take in their handiwork is palpable. And our joy in witnessing the fruit of their labors is similar, no matter how macabre the subject matter. The first year after we moved to this area, my girls were 4 and 7 years old. They drew pictures of their favorite skeleton scenes, which I then mailed to the homeowners as a thank-you for the display and for introducing us to a new tradition in our new town. Last year, we sent a spooky-themed thank you note, sharing words of appreciation for the effort they put into their decorating. This house has clearly inspired other neighbors, as we now have a multitude of 12-foot skeletons all along our daily driving routes— taking selfies, walking giant skeleton dogs, and hosting yoga classes. I think my neighbors and I all delight in this, in part because it takes something so taboo in our society—death—and makes it playful, whimsical, and familiar. 

Recently, on an impromptu tour driving home from tennis practice, my six-year-old said, “Maybe people put all the skeletons out on Halloween because they confuse it with the Day of the Dead.”

This surprised me since I can’t remember ever talking about the Day of the Dead with her, though I occasionally call it by its other name, the Feast of All Souls. As I asked more questions, I learned her observation was informed by equal parts Sunday School conversations about All Saints and All Souls, school discussions of Dia de los Muertos, and the animated film “Coco.” 

Her logic wasn’t wrong. We do tend to wrap All Hallows Eve/All Saints/All Souls into one pumpkiny, candy-filled holiday, neglecting to articulate the connection between the costumes and spookiness of Halloween with the Sunday School saint processions and sanctity of the Feast of All Saints. All Souls gets even shorter shrift since many Episcopal congregations combine it with All Saints by adding the reading of the names of the dead from the parish to the All Saints lessons and baptisms or renewal of baptismal vows.  

In some places, though, it is becoming more common for churches to celebrate each of these three connected but distinct observances. A solemn vigil in place of trick or treating might be a hard sell for many families with young children, but All Saints and All Souls can easily be observed separately. I once heard this distinction between the two feasts, “On All Saints we celebrate Saint Mary, on All Souls we celebrate Aunt Mary.” It’s clever and underlines why I think we should celebrate these feasts over as many days as possible. 

Many of us live far away from our families of origin these days. We maintain connections through FaceTime and occasional visits home while recognizing that it isn’t quite the same as the everyday experience of extended family. Family lore gets lost, relationships become fragile, until the death of a faraway relative feels completely disconnected from our own lives.

By devoting a day to the memory of all those friends and family members we loved but see no longer, we strengthen our connections across the bounds of death and make them real to our children. Engaging liturgically with scripture and prayers dedicated to the lower-case saints in our lives also draws us closer to our Christian faith. What better opportunity than on All Souls, the day that the church historically celebrated all those regular, everyday saints who came before us in our faith? Today we can celebrate our shared baptism, shared faith, and shared lives lived in the light of God. 

Ways to observe All Souls in your own home

• During dinner or at bedtime, tell stories of your departed family members, especially those who died before your children met them or made lasting memories with them.
• Set aside a special space in your home to display photos of all of your loved ones who have died. Light a candle and say one of the Collects for the Departed (p. 253) or any of the prayers from the Burial Office (starting on p. 491) of the Book of Common Prayer. 
• Make a family tree, and trace your lineage as far back as you can go. It’s said that memories of most people’s lives die out within three generations—how many generations of family memories can you record?
• Throw a party and invite nearby relatives and friends. Encourage everyone to bring photos and memories of relatives to share.