10/31/2026
All Hallows’ Eve.
When the Veil Between Worlds Grows Thin
Exploring Spirituality — 31 October 2026
Tonight is Halloween, or, by its rather more dignified name, All Hallows’ Eve.
Long before supermarkets discovered they could make a small fortune selling plastic skeletons, witches’ hats and enormous bags of confectionery, this was a night of deep spiritual significance.
Its roots reach back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, marking the end of the harvest and the beginning of the dark winter months. It was believed that at this turning of the seasons, the veil between the living and the dead grew thin.
The ancestors were remembered, fires were lit, and the mystery of death was acknowledged as part of the great cycle of life.
Christianity later brought its own traditions of remembrance through All Saints’ Day on 1 November and All Souls’ Day on 2 November.
And across the world, particularly in Mexico, families celebrate DĂa de los Mu***os — the Day of the Dead, welcoming the memory of their departed loved ones with marigolds, candles, photographs, favourite foods and wonderful celebrations of life.
What a beautiful thought — that remembering the dead need not always be solemn. Sometimes it can be filled with flowers, feasts, colour, music, and love.
While the ancient Celts were preparing for the darkness of winter, here in Australia the jacarandas are scattering their purple blessings across our springtime streets, the poincianas are beginning to dress themselves in flamboyant scarlet garlands for Christmas, and the magpies are fiercely defending their territories. Meanwhile, small children dressed as vampires and witches are melting gently in the Queensland humidity, blissfully unaware that Halloween was never intended to be celebrated in the middle of an Australian spring!
And somewhere along the way, the sacred mystery of mortality has become an opportunity to sell more chocolate.
Capitalism, it seems, has never met a spiritual tradition it couldn't turn into a shopping opportunity!
But perhaps something precious remains beneath the pumpkins and plastic cobwebs.
The veil between worlds.
I have always wondered whether that veil is quite as substantial as we imagine.
For those who have sat beside the dying, accompanied the grieving, or experienced those extraordinary moments when someone we love seems mysteriously close, perhaps the veil has always been thin.
And for some, it has never been there at all.
The poet E. E. Cummings wrote:
“the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened.”
Perhaps that is what spirituality invites us towards — the awakening of a deeper way of seeing.
And perhaps there is room for all of us.
After all, the sacred does not necessarily disappear because someone is enjoying a Mars Bar.
It may be hiding in the laughter of children, the fragrance of star jasmine flowers, the sudden memory of someone we have loved, or the unexpected feeling that we are part of something infinitely greater than ourselves.
In my years of accompanying people through dying and grief, I have come to believe that love does not end simply because a physical life has ended.
Something remains.
In memory. In relationship. In the mysterious ways another person's life continues to live within our own.
And perhaps, just perhaps, in dimensions of existence we have not yet learned to understand.
So tonight, whether you are lighting a candle for someone you love, contemplating the mystery of eternity, or answering the door to a small vampire demanding sweet treats, may you find a moment to remember.
We are part of a great unfolding mystery.
And the veil may be thinner than we think.
Happy All Hallows’ Eve.
May your pumpkins glow, your ancestors be remembered, and your chocolates last at least until tomorrow.
Deirdre Hanna
Exploring Spirituality
Rev. Dr Ian Mavor
