Most Christians today know about Easter.

But what if I told you that early Christians didn’t call it that?

They called their day of remembering Jesus’ resurrection Pascha—the Greek/Aramaic word for Passover.

This isn’t just semantic trivia—it reveals a profound disconnect between our modern celebrations and the early church’s faith. A disconnect that might be robbing us of the spiritual richness Jesus intended for his followers.

The Last Supper Wasn’t Just a Farewell Meal

For many believers, the connection between the Lord’s Supper and Passover feels like a vague footnote. But in the Gospels—especially Matthew, Mark, and Luke—Jesus is clearly sitting down with his disciples for a Passover meal.

Now on the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, ‘Where will you have us prepare for you to eat the Passover?’

Matthew 26:17. See also Mark 14:12, Luke 22:15.

Throughout the meal, Jesus makes remarks such as:

“This is my body,” “This is my blood.”

That wasn’t abstract theology. It was Passover language.

Yes, John’s Gospel potentially presents a different timeline—suggesting Jesus died on the day the lambs were being slaughtered. But we’ll leave that debate to the scholars.

Regardless of which side of the debate you fall on, the meal was undeniably Passover-themed. The bread. The wine. The covenant-making.

This wasn’t a random dinner.

Jesus’ call to action, to “do this in remembrance of me,” instructed his disciples to remember him each time they celebrated the Passover meal from that point forward.

As someone who began observing a Christ-centered Passover seder fifteen years ago, I’ve experienced firsthand how this ancient celebration illuminates Jesus’ sacrifice in ways typical communion services often miss. The bitter herbs that remind us of suffering. The unleavened bread represents haste and purity. The cup of redemption Jesus raised, saying, “This is my blood of the covenant.”

This night we remember. We reconnect. We recommit.

Passover, both old and new, has always been about covenant, community, identity, and remembrance.

Paul’s Words Still Echo: “Let Us Keep the Feast”

Fast-forward to Paul writing to the Corinthian church—mostly former Gentiles.

He calls Jesus “our Passover lamb” (1 Cor. 5:7). Then he says something wild: “Therefore, let us keep the feast.”

Some argue he’s speaking metaphorically. But consider the context: Paul is addressing a church struggling with sexual immorality, which he compares to “leaven” that must be removed. This directly parallels the Passover command to remove all leaven from homes. He’s not just employing a casual metaphor—he’s applying Passover theology to Gentile Christian ethics.

He’s calling them to be Passover people.

The language still matters. Paul assumes his readers know the imagery. That they understand what the feast is. That they see Christ’s death through a Passover lens.

This isn’t just literary flair. It shows continuity with the tradition passed down since the time of Moses.

It’s a thread the early church didn’t cut.

Passover was part of their identity.

The Quartodeciman Controversy: A Debate About Timing, Not Abandonment

Let’s jump ahead to the second century.

A dispute arises between two church leaders: Polycarp (bishop of Smyrna, disciple of John) and Anicetus (bishop of Rome) around 150 AD.

Polycarp insists on observing Pascha on the 14th of Nisan—the biblical date for Passover. Why? Because John taught him to.

Anicetus prefers celebrating it the following Sunday—to align with the resurrection.

They disagreed.

But here’s what’s key: They didn’t argue over whether to celebrate Pascha—only when.

Think about that. A direct disciple of John—the beloved apostle who leaned on Jesus’ breast during the Last Supper—maintained that Christians should observe Pascha on the traditional Jewish date. This wasn’t a fringe practice; it was the apostolic tradition in much of the early church.

That’s not a church moving away from Passover. That’s a church trying to preserve it faithfully.

Why Did the Date Matter So Much?

Quartodeciman literally means “fourteenthers”—those who kept Pascha on Nisan 14.

This was the tradition passed down by the apostles, especially in Asia Minor.

But Rome cracked down on Jewish customs after the Jewish Bar Kokhba revolt (132–135 AD). And some Christians—especially in Rome—wanted distance from anything “too Jewish.”

Calendar debates followed.

Once united by observation of the new moon and ripening barley, Jewish communities began relying on calculations. Not everyone agreed when the 14th of Nisan actually fell.

Sound familiar?

Even today, we argue over dates and calendars.

But beneath these calendar disputes lay something more troubling: rising anti-Jewish sentiment in the Roman church. As Christianity gained political influence, many leaders deliberately severed the faith’s Jewish roots—a theological amputation with consequences we still live with today.

The Council of Nicaea: Politics, Power, and the Push for Uniformity

By 325 AD, Constantine had legalized Christianity—and wanted unity.

The Council of Nicaea didn’t ask, “Should we celebrate Pascha?” That was settled.

They asked, “How do we determine when to celebrate it?”

And Constantine made his opinion loud and clear:

“It is unworthy to observe that most sacred festival in accordance with the practice of the Jews, who have impiously defiled their hands with enormous sin.”

These words still shock the conscience today.

However, the key takeaway is that this wasn’t about aligning with paganism. It was about severing ties with Judaism—politically, culturally, and calendrically.

This deliberate separation wasn’t merely administrative—it represented a theological shift. By disconnecting the celebration of Christ’s death and resurrection from its Passover context, the church began to lose sight of the crucial symbolism and meaning that Jesus himself had emphasized.

And so, the church fixed the date based on the spring equinox and full moon—removing it from the biblical calendar entirely.

So Where Did “Easter” Come From?

Here’s where things get murky.

In most of the Christian world today—Greek, Spanish, French, Italian, Russian, and almost every other language—the celebration is still called Pascha.

But in Germanic and English-speaking regions, the word Easter took hold. It is likely connected to the Old High German Ostern, which means “to rise.”

Some link it to a spring goddess named Eostre, but the evidence is thin.

And honestly?

The bigger issue isn’t the name.

It’s what we’ve forgotten about the original meaning.

The Bunny in the Room

Let’s be honest. Chocolate bunnies, pastel eggs, and marshmallow chicks have zero to do with Jesus rising from the dead.

They’re fun for some. They’re cultural. But they’ve overshadowed something far more powerful.

Jesus is our Passover Lamb.

That truth deserves more than candy and tulips.

When we replace the rich symbolism of Passover—bitter herbs, unleavened bread, the sacrificial lamb—with chocolate and bunnies, we’re not adding innocent cultural traditions. We’re substituting lifeless distractions for compelling symbols Jesus himself chose.

These commercialized traditions, regardless of origin, detract from us remembering Jesus—remembering the new covenant, the blood shed, our new identity, the resurrection, remembering that we are called to be Passover people—people set free from the chains of this world.

So… Should We Keep Passover?

That’s the real question.

Jesus celebrated Passover—and redefined it around himself.

Paul taught Gentiles using Passover imagery.

The early church fought to preserve its timing.

Even the fiercest debates in the 2nd–4th centuries weren’t about if to celebrate—but when.

Maybe it’s time we remembered that.

What might this look like practically? I’m not suggesting we abandon celebrating Jesus’ resurrection on Sunday. After all, that is the day he rose (and it turns out there’s a Biblical festival on that day, too!). But what if we also:

• Hosted Christ-centered seders in our homes on Passover, as the disciples did

• Incorporated Passover elements into communion services
• Taught our children the connections between the Exodus and salvation
• Studied the Biblical roots of our faith with humility and appreciation

This isn’t about legalism or cultural appropriation. It’s about reconnecting with the rich theological context Jesus intentionally chose for our remembrance of him.

Because when Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me,” he wasn’t giving us a new tradition.

He was giving us a new identity.

We are Passover people.