There is a question we should ask ourselves every year when November 1st arrives: do we still know what we are celebrating? Because, as shop windows fill with pumpkins, masquerade parties win over both adults and children, and All Hallows’ Eve is increasingly identified with Halloween, the authentic meaning of this solemnity risks taking a backseat. Yet, for Christians, November 1st is not just any anniversary, nor is it simply a day off on the calendar. It is the Solemnity of All Saints, one of the most luminous celebrations of the Catholic faith, which invites us to look beyond the boundaries of earthly life and rediscover the goal toward which every Christian is called to walk: holiness. The problem is not just Halloween, nor is it a matter of condemning those who participate in a costume party. The issue is deeper and concerns the risk of forgetting our spiritual roots, allowing a commercial and spectacular event to occupy all the space, while the Christian feast that gives it its name often remains in the background. Halloween, in fact, derives from the English expression All Hallows’ Eve, meaning the eve of All Saints’ Day, and its history is complex, linked to Christian traditions and popular customs that developed over the centuries. Reducing everything to a clash between Christianity and paganism would be simplistic. But this does not prevent us from asking ourselves a legitimate question: why do we know so well about pumpkins, costumes, and scary characters, while we often know so little about the saints that the Church offers us as models of life? Why has it become normal to organize a party for the eve and forget the meaning of the day that follows? It is not a matter of nostalgia, but of identity. A community that stops telling what it believes in risks, slowly, losing even the reasons for celebrating its own holidays.
All Saints’ Day, on the other hand, carries an extraordinarily timely message. The Church does not only celebrate the most well-known saints, those we find in calendars and images in our churches. It also celebrates the immense multitude of men and women who have reached the glory of God without having become famous on earth. People who lived their faith in simplicity, often far from the spotlight, through gestures of charity, silent sacrifices, forgiveness, fidelity, and love. Holiness is not reserved for a few exceptional characters, nor does it belong only to a distant past. It is a call addressed to every baptized person, in the concrete conditions of their own life. It is possible to be a saint in a family, in one’s work, in the upbringing of children, in caring for a sick person, in the ability to apologize, and in the choice to do good even when no one is watching us. Saints are not people who have never made mistakes, but men and women who have left room for God, getting back up after falls and trying to live according to the Gospel. This is what makes All Saints’ Day a celebration of hope: it reminds us that holiness is not an unreachable privilege, but a path open to all.
The Gospel proclaimed on the solemnity, that of the Beatitudes, overturns many of the criteria by which the world measures success. Jesus proclaims blessed the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, and those who hunger and thirst for justice. He does not point as a model to those who accumulate wealth, those who constantly seek approval, or those who manage to impose themselves on others, but to those who keep a heart capable of loving, forgiving, and remaining faithful to the good even in times of difficulty. It is a lesson that should challenge everyone, believers and non-believers alike, because it calls into question a society often focused on appearance, immediate success, and the need to always be visible. Holiness, on the other hand, can grow in silence. It can dwell in a mother who takes care of her family without receiving recognition, in a father who teaches his children respect, in a young person who chooses integrity when it would be easier to take advantage, in an elderly person who continues to pray for those they love, and in those who find the strength to forgive after being hurt. These are the stories that All Saints’ Day invites us to recognize, because the true greatness of a life is not measured only by what it leaves in the eyes of the world, but also by the good it manages to sow.
So, how should All Saints’ Day really be celebrated? First of all, by recovering its Christian meaning. Participating in Holy Mass is the most direct way to experience this solemnity in its liturgical dimension, thanking God for the witness of the saints and asking for their intercession. It is also a day to dedicate to prayer, to reading about a holy life, to rediscovering the saint whose name we bear, and to telling, especially to children, the stories of figures who knew how to transform their existence into a gift. As a family, one can talk about Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Teresa of Calcutta, Saint John Paul II, or many other men and women who bore witness to the Gospel in different ways. One can explain to the little ones that holiness does not mean becoming perfect overnight, but learning to love a little more each day. One can also perform a concrete act of charity, visit someone who is lonely, help those in difficulty, or dedicate time to someone in need. Because a Christian feast is not exhausted by a symbol, a tradition, or an outward celebration: it acquires its full meaning when what we profess in faith is translated into life.
This does not mean that every costume party is incompatible with Christianity, nor that children should be deprived of any moment of play. It means, rather, that Christians should be capable of distinguishing, choosing, and giving meaning to their own traditions. Not everything that is widespread must necessarily become a habit, just as not everything that belongs to popular culture must be demonized. Christian discernment requires balance, but also awareness. If Halloween becomes the only way children know the period between October and November, while no one tells them who the saints are and why the Church celebrates them, then perhaps the problem is not the pumpkin on the windowsill, but the vacuum left by a faith that is no longer being passed on. We cannot complain that new generations do not know our roots if we are the first ones who do not talk about them. We cannot expect a tradition to remain alive if we reduce it to a date on the calendar, without teaching its meaning. Faith is passed on through words, of course, but above all through example, through shared prayer, and through the ability to show that the Gospel still has something to say to everyday life.
There is another aspect that makes All Saints’ Day particularly precious: its link to the following day, November 2nd, dedicated to the commemoration of all the faithful departed. The two observances are not identical, but are deeply united by the Christian hope in eternal life and the communion of saints. On November 1st, the Church contemplates the joy of those who live in the glory of God; the following day remembers the deceased and invites us to pray for them. It is not an invitation to ignore the pain of loss, but to live it in the light of hope. The Christian faith does not deny death, does not erase tears, and does not pretend that parting from a loved one is easy. However, it announces that death does not have the final word and that love lived in God is not destined to disappear into nothingness. In this horizon, All Saints’ Day becomes a feast that also speaks to those who have lost someone, to those who carry an absence in their heart, and to those who are looking for a reason to keep hoping.
Perhaps this is precisely the message we should recover with greater urgency. In a time when everything seems to have to be spectacular, immediate, and shareable, All Saints’ Day invites us to rediscover the value of a life lived well, even when it does not make headlines. It reminds us that there is a joy deeper than momentary amusement, a beauty that does not depend on appearance, and a goal that goes beyond earthly success. The saints do not ask us to admire them from afar, as unattainable figures, but to let ourselves be inspired by their example. They show us that one can be faithful to God without ceasing to be fully human, that one can face suffering without losing hope, and that good, even when it seems small, has eternal value.
The provocation, then, is simple: before asking ourselves how to make the eve of All Saints’ Day more fun, we should ask ourselves how to make the All Saints’ Day celebration more authentic. Before filling the day with images and symbols, we could rediscover the people those symbols represent. And before complaining about a changing tradition, we could return to living ours with greater conviction. November 1st is not the celebration of a past to be guarded merely out of nostalgia, but the announcement of a possibility that concerns the future of each one of us. Holiness is the call to live in the love of God and to transform that love into concrete gestures, within our homes, in our communities, and in the world. All Saints’ Day deserves to be celebrated with joy, prayer, and gratitude, because it reminds us that the ultimate destiny of man, according to the Christian faith, is not darkness, but light; not despair, but hope; not the end, but eternal life. And perhaps the most authentic way to honor all the saints is exactly this: to stop considering them just figures to remember once a year and begin to follow their example, every day.
