You have probably seen the meme. "Easter is really the feast of Ishtar, the Babylonian goddess of fertility." It circulates every spring, dressed in scholarly confidence, shared by sincere believers who want to protect the faith.
You have probably seen the meme. "Easter is really the feast of Ishtar, the Babylonian goddess of fertility." It circulates every spring, dressed in scholarly confidence, shared by sincere believers who want to protect the faith.
She is not a myth. She is not a symbol. She is the oldest and most persistent adversary in the biblical record — older than Babylon, older than Rome, older than the church itself. And the biblical writers do not treat her as a curiosity. They treat her as a catastrophe.
In A.D. 325, a Roman emperor wrote a letter. It was not a theological argument. It was a political decree. And it changed the Christian feast of Passover forever.
He called the Jewish people "that hostile crowd" and declared it "unworthy" for the church to follow their calendar. That single decision — grounded not in scripture but in ethnic contempt — severed the resurrection feast from the Hebrew calendar that gave it its meaning.
In the Temple courts, towering menorahs blaze against the winter night,
their flames proclaiming a memory—
light that once defied desecration.