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Many years ago, a great event occurred. The Son of God, yet God himself, was placed on the Earth, and walked the Earth, the perfect man. And through the course of time, the people prevailed and those above let them be. Thus came the time for the perfect to die for the imperfect.

Then one tree was chosen above them all, elected by God to bear weight of his Son. This lowly tree, roughly hewn and coarsely made could scarce hold the Son of God himself. And when the weight of all the sins of all the world throughout all time were placed upon the Son, this chosen tree near brake asunder. But the precious blood of the Lamb drop upon the tree, and flow down his barks. The tree felt this powerful blood, and determined he could in no wise fail his master, his very maker. Thus the tree did serve his part until the darkness came upon all, and the burden was suddenly lifted.

For at this time, the very Son of God, God himself, descended into Hell. His fiery soul of purest light plunged into the depths and through the darkness as a comet in the night sky. All eternity shook and tremor. He entered the Earth as but a child, and left as a great man. The awesome void he left behind did suck all light, and would near destroy all the physical world. Yea, the death of one so great near rent the seams of eternity itself.

As the Son neared the bottom of the bottomless depths, all the minions of Hell were thrown to the floor by the force of his very presence. All feared and praised him for there was no introduction, all knew this great one. Where ever the Son did go, the bowing of the millions was as waves in the sea.

Having no sins of his own, he spanned the great gulf between Hell and Paradise himself, and entered therein. Once across, he was reunited with that poor soul from just some time before. Happily in Paradise did he stay the remaining hours in the depths.

Then the time was come that he should smite death itself. Inside the tomb, within the linens, the wounds of the corps silently and miraculously began to heal. This temple was now rebuilt, ready to hold God himself. The time had come for the soul to return to the body. From the midst of Paradise the soul sprang forth, upward so fast. With such force the soul then struck the body, the still heart began to suddenly beat once again, pushing precious life throughout the veins. The Saviour gasp the fresh air of life and his eyes opened once again.


So Sunday is Easter, which is 23 March. And then Pesach starts 19 April. If all this isn’t raising a red flag, then let’s rewind. Easter is about how Jesus came back to life, which implies he was dead, which then in turn implies he had been alive. While he was alive the first time, they all got together to celebrate Pesach (before he died). Yes, the same aforementioned event which happens to be celebrated several weeks after the holiday which celebrates him coming back to life. Simply put, the dates of celebration are out of order because Easter is being celebrated too early.

Clearly, someone somewhere has screwed something up.

Notably, it appears that those who adhere to the Julian calender do indeed celebrate Easter at a more appropriate date (27 April for this year).