My neighbor Sam is retired. He stopped by my house yesterday bearing candy and asking this question: "How come your girls didn't come trick-or-treating to my house last night?" He also mentioned that no one did.

My wife lovingly told him that his porch light wasn't on. Must've slipped his mind.

But he was sad no one came trick-or-treating. At least that was Tracy's take on it. She's right in that he probably looked forward to it all day long, too. The chance to see all the neighborhood kids in their costumes and maybe say hello to their watching parents on the sidewalk is probably one of those little things that gives Sam and his wife a sense of community since our neighborhood is now, in real estate agent terms, a "starter" neighborhood.

Even if his porch light had been on Sam would've been disappointed in the turnout. Probably one out of every three houses had their light on, and there were comparatively few kids out, too.

I started thinking about why this might be. Okay, the community's big rivalry football game was last night but that wouldn't explain that many houses not participating. Maybe because it was Friday night and people were out doing their Friday night things. Maybe they just wanted a night at home without being bothered. Maybe it was a combination of all those things.

But I have another significant contribution to it. Most area churches had something called "Fall Carnival" or "Octoberfest" of "Harvest Celebration." Basically, it's some Christian reaction to the "dark" holiday, providing a "safer" place for kids to come in their "not-so-scary" costumes and spend have "fellowship" with their friends and we can "invite the entire community."

And, I guess all those things are true. At least on the surface.

But what about Sam?

Why have local churches felt the need for a "Halloween alternative?" I mean, parents stand at sidewalks anyway, so they're never out of sight. I don't think if a kid pays $12 for a witch costume at Toys R Us they will make make a spiritual bond with the dark side any more than being Buzz Lightyear leads them closer to God. We have plenty of fellowship anyway. The very fact that we're out and about in our neighborhood would mean that Halloween is inherently a community-wide invitation.

So, our Christian community is comfy cozy in our shiny new buildings and Sam sits at home alone (assuming, of course, he turns his light on), just wanting to connect.

I wonder what it would look like if all the local Christians decided next year to go full-throttle on Halloween. Carve the pumpkins. Play the creepy music. Dress up in whatever you want without worrying about political correctness. Maybe even make a mini-haunted house in the garage and let neighborhood kids go through it. Actually get to know our neighbors...like Sam.

I imagine it would look light Matthew 5's recording of Jesus telling the listeners to be a light to the world. I know it would look less like fear-based and separatist cacooning.