Chapter Four - How Christ Died for Peeps and Plastic Eggs

CHAPTER FOUR

How Christ Died for Peeps and Plastic Eggs

EASTER IS THE holy day of holy days.

A man allegedly rose from the dead.
The veil between life and death shattered.
It is, by Christian theology, the most sacred event in human history.

So why is it mostly remembered with:

• Marshmallow birds,
• Plastic eggs full of sugar, and
• A six-foot rabbit in a pastel vest?

Because the resurrection isn’t what sells.
The candy does.

Easter began as a Passover-adjacent resurrection celebration — early Christians marked it with solemnity, fasting, and spiritual rebirth.

The word “Easter” itself comes from Eostre, a pagan fertility goddess whose symbols included eggs and rabbits.

(Translation: the Church already repackaged it once.)

But what we celebrate now?

That’s not pagan. That’s not Christian. That’s corporate.

Here’s how Easter got commercialized.

German immigrants brought the legend of the “Osterhase” to America in the 1700s. It was niche and child-focused.

U.S. marketers turned it into a fuzzy mascot — the Easter Bunny — to anchor a kid-friendly consumer ritual.

Originally dyed real eggs were symbols of rebirth.

Plastic eggs filled with candy made sure profit margins were optimized.

The 20th century saw the rise of Cadbury, Peeps, and Reese’s Eggs as seasonal kings.

By the 2000s, Easter became the 2nd largest candy-selling holiday in the U.S., trailing only Halloween.

Let’s be real:
Jesus doesn’t move units. Peeps do.

Church attendance spikes on Easter Sunday, sure — but so do:

• Retail profits on candy and toys
• Seasonal aisle sales at Walmart and Target
• “Spring Collection” rollouts for clothes and decor

And don’t forget the Easter brunch industry, where restaurants jack up prices for a pastel buffet and tiny mimosas.

Easter teaches us to dress up, go to church (even if it’s the only day we do), then eat chocolate eggs and ham in a pastel-drenched living room.

The spiritual message?
Overshadowed by the sugar high.

The resurrection isn’t celebrated. It’s packaged.
Reduced to a photo op with a bunny and a sugar crash by 4 PM.

Take a sacred idea.
Strip the meaning.
Add bright colors.
Insert candy.
Sell a sanitized version that’s safe, marketable, and guaranteed to move product.

The holy becomes hollow.
But hollow is easier to fill with plastic eggs.