Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday, October 15, 2023
We usually take our walks in the morning and afternoons, not after dark. However, last Saturday night we ventured out at dusk since we hadn’t had the chance to get out and walk earlier.
We missed crossing paths and exchanging greetings with people and dogs we’ve come to know from morning meanderings, but what we lost in the familiar we gained in the new and adventurous.
In our neighborhood, if we tally up the number of “Halloween vs. Harvest” lawn and house decorations, Halloween would lead by a long shot in quantity and enthusiasm. One family is known for their holiday inflatables, plus other décor, and this year they kicked it up a notch. Several notches.
We remembered the witch upside down in a cauldron, and the ghosts coming in and out of upper story windows, and the cemetery with many R.I.P tombstones, and the skulls and bones scattered here and there, but this year there are several witches hanging from trees near a smouldering cauldron, large skeletons in bushes, and two other features that easily caught my attention.
Feature Number One is the full-sized green creature in my photo above. He’s the first to greet you as you cautiously approach the side of the house. We paused to give him a once-over when all of a sudden I sneezed, and he responded with a loud voice uttering dire threats that I can’t remember since I was so startled by his arms reaching out to grab me.
We backed up and moved on. Passing all the witches, we rounded the corner to the front of the house, where the second feature loomed. It’s a large inflatable “something.” I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be. It looks like a mausoleum, but just inside the entrance is a large screen upon which fire leaps and dances menacingly. Over the entrance are several large, incongruous pieces of candy corn.
I’m sure this family takes pleasure in putting up their elaborate display for the enjoyment of many passers-by, but I must admit I’ll be happy when November comes, and all of their Halloween décor will be packed away. If tradition holds, it will be replaced by one huge inflatable turkey wearing a pilgrim’s black hat with a gold buckle. A much calmer, more peaceful front yard.
No bones about it, I’m not a fan of the grisly, gruesome aspects of Halloween, preferring pumpkins to skeletons. I guess there’s too much horror in the news for me to want to create the macabre in my front yard.
Several years ago I was startled when a store clerk confided that Halloween was her favorite holiday, but I’ve heard that sentiment echoed many times since then. The Halloween season has been good for me in that it gives me the opportunity to think about its increasing popularity with adults, and to search out reasons and opinions as to why that’s so. What I’ve read and heard gives me much to mull over.
But the inflatable that features leaping flames also stays in my mind. It reminds me of hell fire, and what I believe the Bible says about those flames. I believe that the fires of hell are eternal in their results but not in their duration – that God did not design an ever-burning torture chamber. While He will no longer permit sin to imperil the universe, He will put an end to it rather than punish sinners forever.
I wanted to include a photo of that fiery inflatable, but when we walked by last night to take a picture, the screen was blank. No flames. I was briefly disappointed that I couldn’t take my planned photo, but the blank screen illustrates what I believe the Bible teaches about hell – it extinguishes sin and sinners. No more fire; no more torment. Fade to nothing. Blank screen.
My blog today is more somber than usual, because I think our understanding of hell is so vital to our spiritual health; thus my blog title, “Nothing to Sneeze At.” For a brief, thoughtful Bible study on the nature of hell, see https://www.adventistpublishing.org/mission-365/glow-tracts/myths-about-hell/
As we step out into this brand-new week, we can do so with the assurance that a loving, sovereign God walks with us, all the way home.