This is one of those moments.
As Easter approaches, we find ourselves standing between languages—English, Hebrew, and Luganda—all whispering the same sacred truth:
Rebirth is not linear. It is a spiral—of rupture, passage, and resurrection.
This is the spiral we now follow:
From Passover to Pasakh,
From Mpisa to Pasuka,
From the escape of death to the unsealing of new life.
1. The English Word: Passover
In the Book of Exodus, Passover describes the night when death “passed over” the blood-marked homes of the Israelites. It was not just survival—it was divine sparing through sacrifice.
In English, “to pass over” means to avoid or skip.
But beneath the phrase is something more intimate:
To protect by choosing not to strike.
2. The Hebrew Root: פֶּסַח (Pasakh)
The Hebrew word translated as Passover is Pasakh—from the root פ־ס־ח (P–S–Ḥ), meaning to pass over or to spare.
Pasakh is both verb and mystery.
It names the moment when blood becomes a doorway.
God’s sparing of the Israelites is not random—it is marked, sealed, chosen.
Pasakh is not just movement.
It is covenant motion—a divine decision to preserve life, to liberate the marked, to begin again.
3. The Luganda Link: Mpisa – “I Pass,” “I Behave”
In Luganda, Easter is called Pasika—a direct inheritance of Pasakh.
What many Baganda may not realize is that the Hebrew word Pasakh—central to the Jewish Passover and the Christian Easter—already lives in their tongue.
A related Luganda word—mpisa—means “I pass,” “I overtake,” and also “manners” or “conduct.”
This double meaning unveils a profound truth:
To pass is not only an act. It is a way.
Empisa literally means “the way of.”
It is not just what happens—it is how it happens.
In Wombism, resurrection is not an event. It is a manner.
The plea-form mpisako means:
“Pass me over,” “Spare me,” “Smear me,”—from the root oku yisako, meaning to rub onto, to mark, to apply.
Just like the Israelites were smeared with lamb’s blood.
Just like Jesus was marked by death—and passed over into life.
4. The Womb Opening: Pasuka
But Luganda holds even deeper keys.
Oku pasuka – To snap open. To rupture. To escape.
Here, language becomes midwife.
This is not just about passing—this is birthing.
Pasuka is the tearing open of what was closed.
The sacred rupture that allows something once trapped to emerge.
Whether from womb to breath, or from tomb to light—
Resurrection is not a gentle rising.
It is a birthquake.
When Jesus rose, he was not simply awakened—He was reborn.
Easter is as much his birthday as Christmas.
5. A Spiral Map of Liberation
| Language | Word | Literal Meaning | Spiritual Insight |
|---|---|---|---|
| English | Passover | To bypass, to spare | Divine protection from death |
| Hebrew | Pasakh (פֶּסַח) | To pass over, to spare | Covenant escape, sacred selection |
| Luganda | Mpisa | I pass / manners | Righteous crossing, the way of conduct |
| Luganda | Mpisako | Pass over me / smear me | Marking, anointing, plea for mercy |
| Luganda | Pasuka | To snap open, escape | Womb rupture, resurrection breakthrough |
This is not coincidence.
This is ancestral etymology—the memory of crossing thresholds, encoded in tongue.
6. Easter as Spiral Rebirth
In the Christian narrative, Jesus becomes the Pasakh.
He is the lamb.
He is the rupture.
His resurrection does not erase Passover—it deepens it.
- Passover: death is bypassed
- Crucifixion: death is entered
- Resurrection: death is undone
He is mpisako—passed over by death.
He is pasuka—tomb snapped open.
7. Closing Spiral: A Wombist Benediction
To pass over is a gift.
To pass through is a labor.
But to be passed through—
To be ruptured and reborn—
That is the mystery of Easter.
That is the spiral of Pasakh.
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