A Soul Cake

As we creep toward Halloween, Celtic tradition offers us a bit of insight into even our most current practices.

Samhain (pronounced “sow-wen” in Scottish Gaelic) was known as “mischief night” in much of the Celtic world. It was a night when people lived out their shadow sides, if just for a few hours, pulling pranks on neighbors, many of whom were tipsy with the drink celebrating the end of the harvest. These mischief-makers would carry lanterns carved out of turnips, usually in spooky designs.

A fun trick on this night, apparently, was to take apart a drunken neighbor’s cart in the middle of the night and reassemble it, horse and all, inside their front room to be found the next morning. Sometimes they’d put manure on doorknobs, or fill keyholes with honey or treacle.

These pranks were wedded to the custom of going door to door begging for treats like apples, plums, and nuts, now stored up for winter in the cellars. In some towns these troops of mischief-makers would blow trumpets upon entering the streets, causing villagers to run to their cellars to snatch some fruits, dried cakes, or coins and avoid the “tricks.” These treats were called “soul cakes” in later years when Samhain and All Saints Day were butted up together, and these travelers were said to go “a-souling.”

Underlying all of this mischief and treat gathering was a more serious ritual, one found across cultures and continents. These figures a-souling were dressed up like the dead to represent the spirits of the past. To refuse these spirits some sort of treat, some sort of offering, would be to invite them to curse the house or take vengeance on the household. The little mischief, the little tricks, would pale in comparison to the other-worldly tricks of ungenerous homes.

Instead of “trick or treat,” these door-to-door travelers would call for a soul-cake.

“A soul-cake, a soul-cake,
please, good missus, a soul-cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, or a cherry,
any good thing to make one merry.

A soul-cake, a soul-cake,
please, good missus, a soul-cake.
One for Peter, two for Paul, and three for them who made us all…”

If you want a good rendition of this tune, Sting (on his Christmas album If On a Winter’s Night that is much better than it should be) incorporated it into a Christmas-caroling song. It’s posted below. But there are many other recordings of Halloween versions of the song out there.

On Confusion

Today the church remembers a saint from Turkey who is most revered in the Balkans who, when her parents tried to prevent her generosity, balked at them: Saint Paraskeva the New, Activist and Traveler.

Paraskeva (whose name literally means “Friday,”) was born in nobility not far from Constantinople (or is it Istanbul?). Her wealthy parents looked askew at this pious young woman who, even as a child, had a habit of just giving her things away.

Yeah, that’s right: she literally just gave her family’s possessions to the poor, from about the age of ten.

Her parents were not pleased with this, and perhaps rightfully so. But instead of engaging her in conversation and constructive learning, they essentially forbade her from going out anymore, confining her to the home.

The profession of her parent’s faith, as they were Christian, and their displeasure at her generosity caused conflict within the young woman. How could they have taught her the words of the Gospel, even Jesus’ own instruction to “give up everything,” and yet be really angry when she followed those very words they gave her?

In fact, I’d offer up that this situation is happening right now in many homes! Children brought to church are confused when they hear Jesus say “love your neighbor,” and their parents rail against undocumented immigrants or LGBTQIA+ protections. They wonder how Jesus can heal any who came to him, and yet expanding affordable healthcare is somehow “socialism.”

The struggle is real.

Saint Paraskeva left her home and decided to live on the streets, existing off of the hospitality of strangers. She traveled from city to city visiting holy shrines and sites, praying and fasting as she went, welcoming the poor as her sibling on the journey. She eventually set up a hermitage near the Black Sea, living as a desert monastic. On this day she died at the far-too-young age of 27 in the year 1027 CE.

Saint Paraskeva is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that we cause confusion in people when we hear the words of Jesus say one thing, but live our civil lives doing the opposite.

Let those with ears to hear, hear.

-historical bits from public sources and Illes, Daily Magic.