“Is it a shondah for Jews to celebrate Halloween?”
It’s a question that a rabbi asked in our newspaper in 1984. He wasn’t alone. Quite a few Jews were asking the same thing throughout the 1980s and the 1990s. For example, in 1994 one of our reporters explored the question: “Is it OK for Jewish children to trick or treat, or should they shun the holiday … because of its Christian associations?” And in 1997, a columnist pondered what to do when Halloween fell on Shabbat: “Well, parents, there is a Hell and it is coming at the end of this month. Halloween on Shabbat.”
Another writer revisited the topic in 1999. “I’m not a Halloween advocate. I’m also adamantly opposed to Jews celebrating intrinsically religious holidays such as Christmas and Easter,” Jane Ullman wrote in our pages. “I just want to point out that holidays, like people, are complicated and are not always unadulterated.”
Complicated or not, this debate is relatively modern. In earlier decades, our readers fully embraced the celebration of this identifiably non-Jewish holiday.
In the first half of the 20th century, for instance, Jews in San Francisco society threw Halloween parties with great vim.
The first mention was in 1908, in the society pages, but it clearly wasn’t a new thing.
“Miss Rietta Bloom was pleasantly surprised by the members of the Delta Omega Epsilon Sorority with a Hallowe’en party,” we wrote. “The decorations of the house and tables were in keeping with the weird occasion, Jack o’ lanterns, pumpkins, black cats and other mysterious devices being used in great profusion. At midnight an elaborate repast was served, after which the guests, who numbered about forty, were entertained until the early morning hours, the usual Hallowe’en festivities prevailing.”
In 1909, “an enjoyable Hallowe’en party was given last Saturday evening at Foresters’ Hall, by three dainty little hostesses, Helen Abrahamson, Miriam and Eleanor Hoffman. They entertained about twenty-four young friends with the games of the season, and dancing, and dainty refreshments were served in the upper hall, which had been darkened and appropriately decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and other emblems.”
And in 1911, “Hallowe’en, which is a time for mirth and laughter, came in the crisp cool end of October, and the very dawn of November, too, for the festive scenes were not over until the break of day,” we reported.
There were plenty of institutional events for the holiday too, from bridge teas to a JCC dance. Emanu-El, San Francisco’s generally staid congregation, hosted a massive dance party for the holiday in 1948: “Some 500 young people are expected at the Temple Emanu- EI Alumni Association annual Hallowe’en dance to be held in the Temple gym Sunday. Dick Lieber and his eight-piece band will provide the music and refreshments will be served.”
One of more eclectic parties took place in 1949. “‘Funz a brewing’ and ‘cornz a poppin’ in preparation for the zany and completely mad-cap Halloween shindig being dreamed up by Peninsula Bnai Brith Lodge for tomorrow night. This is strictly a fun affair, not a fund-raising affair, according to Harry Lehrfeld, chairman, who reported that ‘no one will be admitted unless he or she is attired in costume — the more outlandish, the better. We don’t care what you choose for your dress-up idea just as long as you enter into the spirit of the evening, which is being dedicated to tomfoolery at its best.’”
Clearly, the Jews of the Bay Area adored Halloween (and Christmas, as we’ve noted before). So when did Jews begin to think of the holiday as explicitly un-Jewish?
As generations brought up during a wave of post-war assimilation began to question the wholesale adoption of “American” quasi-religious holidays, including Halloween, they began to draw back from the whole-hearted adoption of rituals that seemed connected to other faiths.
“Halloween may be looked upon as a children’s festival of fun and games, yet thoughtful Jews wonder if they should join in the celebration,” wrote Rabbi Bernard Raskas in 1984. “After all, Halloween originated as a pagan festival, then became a Christian holiday and is still observed as such in certain church rituals.”
“‘I tell parents it’s not a Jewish festival,’ said Rabbi David Bassous of Sephardic Congregation Etz Ahaim in Highland Park, N.J.,” according to an article in our paper in 1997. “He said that by celebrating Halloween, parents affirm to their children that such things as witches exist. ‘People become evil because they believe in evil,’ he said.”
In 1994, Oakland Hebrew Day School head Maria Cohen wrote to the paper to confirm that the school had a strict anti-Halloween policy.
“While the school marks appropriate secular holidays such as Thanksgiving and Presidents Day, please note that we will not participate in observance of non-Jewish holidays such as Christmas, Halloween or St. Valentine’s Day.”
The Torah and rabbinical commentaries can definitely be interpreted as telling Jews to avoid the festivals of other cultures. In addition, Jews have our own dress-up day on Purim. But, as shown in our pages, it’s not so simple. Assimilation, celebration, multiculturalism and the tension between the Jewish denominations are all bound up in the ’80s and ’90s debate about Halloween.
Still, American Jews live in America, and children really do love Halloween.
As Yosef Abramowitz wrote in 1998, “Let’s face it. More Jewish families with children observe Halloween than Purim, and Halloween is more anticipated and treasured than even the Sabbath. Instead of fighting an uphill battle to convince your children to abandon the celebration, let’s try to co-opt it.”
That year, Halloween fell on a Saturday.
“Why not introduce havdallah, the mystical ceremony ending Shabbat that involves a flickering flame, sweet spices and a glass of wine? So mark the end of sacred time and then let your children trick-or-treat,” Abramovitz wrote. “By saying goodbye to Shabbat, we acknowledge that we live in a world where everything else is not yet holy.”