We hear at Christmas and Easter time that it is all about the kids. If that is you, shame on you. The virgin Birth and the ultimate Sacrifice and Resurrection are for all and especially for the adults. If the adult keeps the Birth and the Sacrifice and the Resurrection holy, then the children will, as well. Or at least they will be inclined to do so if they can stand against the world's onslaught. 

    Halloween, on the other hand, is for the kids. Yes, it certainly has at its roots an evil origin, but it has evolved into something fun for kids. While I abhor the watering down of the Advent and Lenten seasons, I rejoice at the watering down of Satan's holiday. You may be one who never lets their child participate in Halloween, but there are many, many things that will draw them into evil. If, however, we water down the Birth, Sacrifice and Resurrection with all the worldly aspects, we take away the best of opportunities to bring the Gospel to our children. 

    Having said that, it is important how we approach Halloween. Church sponsored events are best. Trunk or Treats are great and can bring the Gospel to a child's level. Before Trunk or Treat, many Christians gave out a little Ziploc bag with maybe five good pieces of candy and a Gospel tract made for kids. We did that at our home for many, many years. And then, while I pastored in Geneva, Ohio, the local churches took it up a couple of notches. And this is where the story gets good.

    The evangelical churches in our small city got together and devised a 'Kid's Party.' The idea was simple. Rent the Community Center (a large venue usually used for wedding receptions and that also served as the home for the Food Pantry and the Seniors' Center). Let the Youth from the various churches devise games of chance and have the churches buy TONS of candy. The pastors and some of the other adults from the churches rode herd on it all. It didn't cost the little ones so much as a penny and, win or lose, they all got candy. As they entered, they gave their name and address and they were each given a ticket, like a raffle ticket, and told to hold it until the end when there would be a drawing for one new boy's bike and one new girl's bike. (The bikes were donated by a local hardware store.) The only thing was, to win you had to be there. The drawing was to be at the end of the program and the Gospel message. Everywhere around there were signs telling what churches were involved and who would be presenting the Gospel message. Every year the pastors voted on the most child-like pastor to present this message, and it was, for some reason, always me.

    This was actually quite expensive. The churches wrote it into their budgets. Not only the party, but we incurred expenses in follow-ups. It was really a good situation.

    And then came the year.

    Everything cooked right along. It was a snowy night, so the little rugrats showed up in droves. The Youth did a great job (especially mine) and the candy flowed like water. It was the first time we actually ran out of candy. Several hundred kids had stuck around for the drawings, which meant they also listened to the Gospel message. While we were doing all of that on the south end of the huge room, the parents of the little darlings were at the north end chowing down on free cookies and swilling hot chocolate like it was going to be outlawed the next day. When the message was over and the drawings done, the little ones ran to get their parents. One little guy, about nine, came to me and told me he had accepted Christ. Then he turned and ran to the parents.

    Suddenly there was a massive eruption. "WHAT! WHO?" I looked in time to see a very large woman, cookies in hand, stomping across the floor toward me. Her face had gone beet red as she hustled over, still chomping on cookies.

    "YOU!" she screamed. I knew what was coming. I pointed to myself and sweetly said, "Me?" "YES YOU, YOU #%^^@! WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO TELL MY SON THAT LOAD OF #%^#?"  "Why you did, ma'am. There are all kids of signs and it was explained that there would be a Gospel story." "NO ONE SAID YOU WOULD BE FILLING HIS MIND WITH %#$^%&&! THERE  IS SUCH A THING AS CHURCH AND STATE! I AM GONNA HAVE ALL YOU it$##$%^ ARRESTED! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?" "Well, actually, ma'am, the Community Center is a not for profit organization run by a board of directors. It is privately owned and there is no government organization involved. So, no division of church and state."  "WHAT!? THIS IS ILLEGAL! BOARD OF DIRECTORS? WHO IS IN CHARGE OF THIS BOARD OF DIRECTORS? I WANT TO TALK TO'EM!" Of course, the building was quiet now as a graveyard. "Well, ma'am, as it happens, I am currently the president of the board. Would you like to talk?" Her face went purple. "YOU!!?" You could see the wheels whirring in her hear. Or maybe that was her ears spinning. "LOOK YOU LITTLE @$@#%$#! THE FOOD PANTRY RUNS OUT OF HERE AND THEY ARE BIG IN THIS TOWN. I'M GONNA TALK TO THE HEAD OF THAT!" "Well, ma'am, that would be fine. The Food Pantry is run by the churches in town and I am also the president of that board. When would you like to meet?" 

    She was ready to stroke out. Just then, one of the local cops put his hand on her shoulder to talk to her and calm her down. He was volunteering his time that night. A young man and a member of one of the churches, he was there to be a presence. He never expected to run into a crazy woman. She exploded all over him. He escorted her out. I never tried to find out what happened.

    The pastor who had organized it walked up to me. "Same time next year, buddy?" "Oh, I wouldn't miss it."

    Hey folks! Don't just give candy! Give the Gospel.