Easter & Ēostre: How a Springtime Rite Became Christianity’s Main Event

Before the lilies.
Before the hymns and hallelujahs.
Before the painted eggs and polished pews—
There was a hare.
A dawn.
And a goddess.

Her name was Ēostre.

In the early whispers of spring, snow was still melting into memory. Daylight stretched a little longer each day. At this time, ancient Germanic tribes celebrated Ēostre, the goddess of the growing light.

She was the spirit of rebirth, of fertility, of the turning season. Her symbols?
Eggs.
Hares.
And the full moon.

Not by coincidence, these are the same emblems that now line baskets and church altars across the world.

Long before Easter Sunday marked resurrection, spring festivals across Europe honored the same miracle under a different name: life returning. After winter’s long hush, the land reawakened. Buds pushed through the thaw. Animals emerged from their burrows. The Earth exhaled.

Ēostre’s rites were earthy, joyful, and grounded in the rhythms of nature. Fires were lit. Feasts were shared. Offerings of eggs—perfect symbols of new life—were given back to the Earth.

And as Christianity spread, it didn’t erase these traditions.
It absorbed them.

When the Church chose a date to honor Christ’s resurrection, it did not fall on a fixed calendar day. Instead, it fell on the first Sunday after the full moon after the spring equinox. This was the same sacred rhythm once marked for Ēostre.

The eggs remained.
The hare became a rabbit.
The celebration of life after death found a new form.

Easter, in its essence, is a palimpsest. It is a new story written atop an older one. Both echo the same truth:
Life always returns.

Today, Easter is many things.

A resurrection.
A feast.
A family tradition.
A quiet morning in pastel colors.
A walk in the garden when the daffodils bloom.

But in its oldest heart, it is still what it has always been:
A celebration of light returning.
Of the Earth awakening.
Of the mystery and magic of beginning again.