Stephen Swanson takes a break from his discussion of Tarantino’s new film and its commentary as performance on art as a performance of creation and destruction to talk a bit about some destruction that current performances of spirituality and faith that have struck him.

No, I’m not talking about Gilligan’s Island, although that should go on my topic list.

I’m writing about the rhizome, but some background proves necessary.  Recently, a friend who had been following my Inglourious Basterds series asked me why I am writing this for an audience of people who write literature from or with spiritual perspectives.  I wrote about the connections that I see between faith and faith in the creative act, but I honestly don’t know what it means to be spiritual anymore.  I’m casting about to find something larger than my family, friends, and community to latch onto in the contemporary moment that speaks to a belief in belief.  I think that the limits of language present the greater challenge.

In the past couple weeks, I’ve encountered widespread references to faith, spirituality, and religion in Conservapedia’s attempt to rewrite the Bible to eliminate an pro-liberal bias, anti-abortion people on the sidewalk asking for people to honk at them if they agree, a Fresh Air interview with Karen Armstrong, a Diane Rehm interview with Harvey Cox, and my Brit Lit I class’s delving into the Reformation for the first time. All of these present highly variegated views of what it means to look at or be “religious” or “spiritual”. What does that mean for the daily life?

Perhaps language is the cause of the struggle itself. The idea that these contemporary and historical moments of faith all fall under the same, single syllable (faith) is absurd. My “Postmodern Textualities” class during grad school always made fun of the quantities of “rhizomatic” references in discourses on art, life, and literature, but the comparison between “faith” and some weird root structure seems apt. Connections exist. One might trace from one lobe to another, through the delicate joints and branching, and in that respect it is one. On the other hand, the literal, intellectual, emotional, and moral difference present such vast distances that they might function more as separate entities.

Because of this distance, I feel a real and almost physical need to seek out that distance, to pioneer the edges of the rhizomatic “faith” and look at where it intersects with unlikely ideas in unlikely places. Thank you for your patience, and now for something completely different…

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Stephen Swanson teaches as an assistant professor of English at McLennan Community College. Aside from guiding students through the pitfalls of college writing and literature, he spends most of his time trying to remain reasonably aware of popular culture, cooking, and enjoying time with his wife and son. He holds degrees in Communications, Film, and Media and American Culture Studies from Calvin College, Central Michigan University, and Bowling Green State University, respectively. In addition to editing a collection, Battleground States: Scholarship in Contemporary America, he has forthcoming projects on Johnny Cash and depiction of ethics in contemporary film noir.

Travis Griffith

Travis Griffith reflects on Halloween in his life, in history, and presents the reality of censorship and “protection” in the young lives of Trick-or-Treaters today.

Remember how exciting Halloween was when you were in elementary school? At least for me it was; wearing my costume at school, bobbing for apples, making pumpkin designs on cookies and parading through other classrooms were highlights of my early school years.

Of course that was all just a prelude to the real meaning of Halloween: the candy! A king-sized pillow case overflowing with candy was my prize after visiting everyone in the neighborhood who was just giving it away. Pure heaven for a kid.

Today I have my own kids who are lucky enough to be in a public school district that still celebrates Halloween. But I have nieces and nephews who go to public schools that have decided not to hold any type of Halloween celebration for the kids. The reason? Some parents complained. They didn’t want their kids to take part in a pagan and satanic holiday. Isn’t that sad?

It’s sad for many reasons. First, the kids won’t have those treasured memories of Halloween at school (though thinking back, I could’ve done without sticking my face in a bowl of apples floating in other kids’ spit).

Even sadder though is people getting caught up in their own fear of the origins of Halloween. Yes, the holiday has pagan beginnings, but those are beautiful and inspiring; not hate-filled and satanic.

Books have been filled detailing the full history of pagan festivals, but I want to provide the highlights here. Long before Christ ever lived, the Celts celebrated the seasons. Their new year began at Samhain (pronounced sow-en) and was celebrated on an evening sometime around November 1. They celebrated the coming dark season, the end of the summer harvest and honored the spirits of their ancestors.

The veil between this world and the spirit world is thinnest at this time of year, allowing the spirits of loved ones to easily journey back and forth. Back in the Celts’ day, the presence of spirits was met with feelings of inspiration and guidance… not the fear and dread often associated with ghosts today.

Turnips and gourds we carved, lit and left outside to guide spirits home. Folks asked neighbors for bread and other items for feasting. Samhain was a time of honoring family, playing, enjoying life and sharing it with friends and neighbors.

When Christianity was introduced, the church wasn’t able to get people to stop celebrating this wonderful holiday. Eventually it became All Saints Day, then All Hallow’s Eve, then Halloween.

So yeah, Halloween is a pagan holiday. But if schools are going to start banning all holidays associated with a pagan past, count Valentines Day, Easter and Christmas among the causalities too.

The real importance of Halloween isn’t the costume parade, but the interaction between our neighbors. To get over our fears, go outside and build a social bond with the people we live near but otherwise never see. Halloween is a time to let ourselves have fun, let our children (and our inner child) out to play, reflect on who we want to be and most of all, share the fun with our Christian, pagan, atheist and Muslim neighbors.

Happy Halloween!

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Travis Griffith, who recently left behind the corporate marketing world, choosing family and writing in lieu of “a comfortable life” financially, is a former atheist trying to define what leading a spiritual life really means.  His children’s book, Your Father Forever, published in 2005 by Illumination Arts Publishing Company, Inc. captures only a fraction of his passion for fatherhood.