The Tradition of Eggs at Easter, Ishtar and Eostre

Eggs occupy a special status during Easter observances. They're symbols of rebirth and renewal—life bursts forth from this otherwise plain, inanimate object that gives no hint as to what it contains. In this regard, it is a handy symbol for the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but it is is a symbol that has held this meaning long before Christianity adopted it.

I lots or rummer goes on on the Facebook that states the following message:
 
"Easter was originally the celebration of Ishtar, the Assyrian and Babylonian goddess of fertility and sex. Her symbols (like the egg and bunny) were and still are fertility and sex symbols (or did you actually think eggs and bunnies had anything to do with the resurrection?) After Constantine decided to Christianize the Empire, Easter was changed to represent Jesus. But at its roots, Easter (which is how

Ishtar doesn't seem to be connected to eggs in any explicit way. However, there are plenty of other older traditions that involve the egg as a symbol of rebirth and feature it prominently in creation mythologies:


Clearly, we all know that Facebook memes are the ultimate source of information—particularly when they make a biting point about something or some group that is not particularly favorably viewed. But it is well known that under the Roman Empire, Christianity did indeed adopt the pagan rituals of conquered peoples in an effort to help convert them. It worked pretty well as a strategy as it allowed the conquered peoples to continue a semblance of their observances as they remembered, and with time the population would be replaced with those who only knew the new traditions. This is not a secret. However, there are a few things wrong with the Ishtar meme that a simple Google search will turn up:

• Ishtar was the goddess of love and war and sex, as well as protection, fate, childbirth, marriage, and storms—there's some fertility in there, but as with Aphrodite, there is also an element of power. Her cult practiced sacred prostitution, where women waited at a temple and had sex with a stranger in exchange for a divine blessing (and money to feed hungry children or pay a debt).
• Ishtar's symbols were the lion, the morning star, and eight or sixteen pointed stars—again, symbols of power.
• The word Easter does not appear to be derived from Ishtar, but from the German Eostre, the goddess of the dawn—a bringer of light. English and German are in the minority of languages that use a form of the word Easter to mark the holiday. Elsewhere, the observance is framed in Latin Pascha, which in turn is derived from the Hebrew Pesach, meaning of or associated with Passover. Ishtar and Easter appear to be homophones: they may be pronounced similarly, but have different meanings.
• Ancient Egyptians believed in a primeval egg from which the sun god hatched. Alternatively, the sun was sometimes discussed as an egg itself, laid daily by the celestial goose, Seb, the god of the earth. The Phoenix is said to have emerged from this egg. The egg is also discussed in terms of a world egg, molded by Khnum from a lump of clay on his potter's wheel (1).
• Hinduism makes a connection between the content of the egg and the structure of the universe: for example, the shell represents the heavens, the white the air, and the yolk the earth. The Chandogya Upanishads describes the act of creation in terms of the breaking of an egg:
• In the Zoroastrian religion, the creation myth tells of an ongoing struggle between the principles of good and evil. During a lengthy truce of several thousand years, evil hurls himself into an abyss and good lays an egg, which represents the universe with the earth suspended from the vault of the sky at the midway point between where good and evil reside. Evil pierces the egg and returns to earth, and the two forces continue their battle (2).
• In Finland, Luonnotar, the Daughter of Nature floats on the waters of the sea, minding her own business when an eagle arrives, builds a nest on her knee, and lays several eggs. After a few days, the eggs begin to burn and Luonnotar jerks her knee away, causing the eggs to fall and break. The pieces form the world as we know it: the upper halves form the skies, the lower the earth, the yolks become the sun, and the whites become the moon (3).
• In China, there are several legends that hold a cosmic egg at their center, including the idea that the first being or certain people were born of eggs. For example, the Palangs trace their ancestry to a Naga princess who laid three eggs, and the Chin will not kill the king crow because it laid the original Chin egg from which they emerged (3).

These are some of the stories that build the foundation for the tradition of eggs at Easter. Contrary to the assertion of our meme, eggs and bunnies actually do have something to do with the idea of resurrection: in these early stories, the creator often emerged from the egg itself in some form:

The cosmic egg, according to the Vedic writings, has a spirit living within it which will be born, die, and be born yet again. Certain versions of the complicated Hindu mythology describe Prajapati as forming the egg and then appearing out of it himself. Brahma does likewise, and we find parallels in the ancient legends of Thoth and Ra. Egyptian pictures of Osiris, the resurrected corn god, show him returning to life once again rising up from the shell of a broken egg. The ancient legend of the Phoenix is similar. This beautiful mythical bird was said to live for hundreds of years. When its full span of life was completed it died in flames, rising again in a new form from the egg it had laid (4).

The Phoenix was adopted as a Christian symbol in the first century AD. It appears on funeral stones in early Christian art, churches, religious paintings, and stonework. The egg from which it rose has become our Easter egg. As with many symbols, the Easter egg has continued to shift. When the Lenten fast was adopted in the third and fourth centuries, observant Christians abstained from dairy products, including milk, cheese, butter, and eggs. In England, on the Saturday before Lent, it was common practice for children to go from door to door to beg for eggs—a last treat before the fast began.

Even the act of coloring eggs is tied to the idea of rebirth and resurrection. While egg decorating kits offer a vibrant means of decorating eggs today, the link between life and eggs was traditionally made by using a red coloring. Among Christians, red symbolizes the blood of Jesus. Among Macedonians, it has been a tradition to bring a red egg to Church and eat it when the priest proclaims "Christ is risen" at the Easter vigil and the Lenten fast is officially broken (5).


I love the Easter traditions at Church. The lighting of the Easter candle reminds me of my childhood Diwali celebrations and the lighting of Christmas lights as they all represent means of driving away the darkness. Ishtar may well have some connection to the rites of Spring, and admittedly Easter itself is an observance of Spring, but in an age when so much wrong has been done in the name of religion, and religion is a focal point for criticism and debate, it's worth remembering that the overlap of time and history has given us richer traditions than any of us can truly be aware of—and that memes shouldn't be taken at face value.


Cited:
-Newall, Venetia. (1967) "Easter Eggs," The Journal of American Folklore Vol 80 (315): 3-32.
-RE Hume, ed. (1931) The Thirteen Upanishads. London: 214-215
-Krystal D'Costa research and article at Scientific American

Learn More

Happy Father's Day 2017

Happy father's day from United Spirituality to all amazing fathers which with their experience and living we learned good and bad, no matter how good or bad they were or what amazing things or mistakes they done, they gave us opportunity of experiencing all of that with out feeling it on our skin, they gave us a chance to learn from their success and their mistakes to create a better version of us. Here are selection of short stories from different people very inspiring and interesting stories to share with you all in father's day, wish you all will enjoy.

GOOD VIBRATIONS
by Nancy Perkins, St. Johns, Michigan

My dad died unexpectedly at age 78, leaving our family heartbroken. During the funeral mass, my sister felt her phone vibrate in her purse. She was a little surprised that someone would be calling her, knowing she was at dad’s funeral mass. Afterward, she found there was a message: “Hi, this is your dad,” said the male voice. “I wanted to let you know I made it home.” The caller obviously had the wrong number, but the message was clear. My dad had completed his journey to heaven and wanted us to know. Thanks, Dad—until we meet again.

THERE’S ALWAYS A FIRSTby Debbie Gunn, Bothell, Washington

My dad delivered bread for a living. We enjoyed each other’s company, so he’d drive home at lunchtime and I’d go with him. One day, we delivered to a large grocery store. When we pulled in back, the manager saw me and said, “I heard it’s your birthday, so go pick out anything in our toy aisle free.” I excitedly grabbed some paper dolls, but the big surprise was still ahead. Dad, the store manager, and the employees stood with a huge lit cake, singing me “Happy Birthday.” I’d turned seven, and this was my first-ever birthday party. Thanks, Dad!

STILL HERE
by Mary Ellen Raneri, Latrobe, Pennsylvania

My dad sat straight up in bed and smiled at me. Even though his mouth was crusted with fever sores, he grinned a big grin from his unshaven face. Dementia had completely taken him from me—or so I thought, until he spoke to me. “Honey,” Dad almost seemed to sing the words. “What are you doing here?”  My throat muscles ached from trying to talk and not cry. Choking back my tears, I half-sobbed, “Daddy, I’m here to especially see you. I love you, you know.” “Me too, honey,” he whispered. Then, still smiling, Daddy fell asleep.

HOW I LEARNED THE VALUE OF WORK
by Rudy Berdine, Irvine, California

My dad owned a fruit market on a busy street. The sidewalk in front of his store collected dust and trash, which needed to be swept daily. At age six, I used to hide behind bags of potatoes when my dad asked me to sweep, but while sweeping one day, I began to find dollar bills under the dust and trash. I had no idea where the money came from. My dad had been putting money on the sidewalk—and soon, I was happy to sweep even when no money was found.

A LESSON IN PATIENCEby Robert Cronce, Brown City, Michigan

In the spring of 1960, I was riding with my dad on his milk route. He spotted a small turtle crossing the road, stopped to pick it up, and put in the glove compartment. He told me not to play with it until we got home. Of course, when he got back to the truck at our subsequent stop to pick up milk cans, I was crying over a fresh bite on my finger. The moral of the story: It’s wise to follow instructions. And if you are going to poke something, use a stick instead of your finger.

“TALKING IS LIKE KETCHUP”
by Carmen Mariano, Braintree, Massachusetts

I sat in my dad’s living room reading one night while he watched television. An hour passed before I realized it, and I felt bad for not speaking during that time. I asked if he was OK, and he said yes. Then I apologized for not talking more. “Carmen,” Dad replied. “Talking is like ketchup. If you like the meat enough, you don’t need the ketchup—and if you like the company enough, you don’t need the conversation.” My dad never earned a college degree, but he was the smartest person I ever knew.

THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO FAMILY
by Rachel O’Connor, Westtown, New York

“Linda, look at the map!” My father slammed on the brakes, glaring at my mom. He didn’t believe in excessive planning, and so each summer we embarked on a spontaneous family road trip that didn’t always go smoothly. There were lots of late-night panics to find hotels, stops to ask for directions, and elevated tempers. One night, we picked up a hitchhiker somewhere in Kentucky. As we blasted the radio and my dad bought us all ice cream, the hitchhiker told me he’d give his life to have what I had.

BIG SHOES TO FILLby Theresa Arnold, Tioga, Texas

I cleaned out Dad’s closet yesterday. There were two things I couldn’t box up: his work shirts and his two pairs of Red Wing boots. He couldn’t remember birthdays or anniversaries, but he remembered the date on which he’d bought his first pair. I remember it too—April 16, the day after Tax Day. What does a child do with her dad’s favorite boots? I think I will make a planter out of them or use them to store something valuable. You can’t throw away a man’s favorite boots. You’ve got to keep them and pass them down.

DAD’S SECRET SPOT
by Lucia Paul, Plymouth, Minnesota

My dad was a gardener before it was cool. He would proudly tell people, “I can grow just about anything.” He could—except for my beloved lilacs. He tried everything, with no luck or lilacs to show for his efforts. One night when I was a teen, it was raining in that way it does in Minnesota in April: violent and cleansing. I heard the creak of the side door, and he stood soaking wet, etched with scratches, holding an abundance of lilacs. “I found a secret lilac spot,” he said. “It wasn’t easy, but I got them.” That’s how he got everything.

Learn More