God Moves the Moon and The Sun Still Shines
On the eclipse and the wonder of a child.
Last week we gathered, along with 31 million other people, to watch the eclipse. We were in the path of totality—a phrase I’ve heard with frequency the last few weeks as my kids learned all about it at school. We were ready. We had our eclipse glasses (and enough to share), we had a plan (sit outside with our neighbors), and we had no school (thanks to the city closing all schools out of an “abundance of caution” for the increased traffic to our area). I didn’t know what to expect, and honestly thought the hype was a little overblown. But now that I’ve experienced it, I can say there is nothing like it. It was strange and amazing all at the same time. There’s a lot to reflect on after the three and a half minutes of midday darkness, but a few come up in my mind.
The beauty of community experience. I’ll be honest. At first, I was bummed to lose a writing day for the eclipse. My kids were home, which meant I couldn’t work. But I’m glad my feelings didn’t drive the decision because it was worth every minute of missed progress on my book. When people asked me if we were going anywhere to see the eclipse I said, “yes, I’m going to step outside.” While we didn’t go to an “eclipse location,” sharing the eclipse with our neighbors made viewing it richer. I grew up with shared television experiences. When a favorite character died on a show, I called my friend immediately after the show ended. And it wasn’t a spoiler because the only way to watch the show was when it aired on TV. We’ve lost that in our current age, but with the eclipse you had to be there to experience it. I have plenty of pictures on my phone of the moment and nothing compared to the moment we all saw it together. We were made to live in the world God made together, and while I don’t love “nature” things, going outside to view the eclipse was one way to experience the beauty of community.
God makes awesome metaphors. The sun/light is used all over scripture to refer to God’s power and his brightness over all things. In Revelation we’re told the sun has a finite number of days. One day, we won’t need the sun because God will be our light. In John 1, we’re told that the Word made flesh (Jesus Christ) is the light of men. In John 8, we see that he is the light of the world. Rarely do we stop to think about the sunshine as a metaphor for the light we all need in Christ. Rarely do we stop to think about the fact that the sun is a stand-in for what will one day be true in the new heavens and the new earth—God will dwell among us, and his light will shine so brightly that we won’t need the sun. But on Monday, April 8, we marveled at the sun. The sun, which is so bright that a complete eclipse by the moon still emanates a tiny bit of light around it. God is brighter than that.
The earth really is full of his glory. No earthly being made the eclipse happen. We literally stopped everything to marvel at something we didn’t do. In the darkest moment of totality, one of the twins kept saying, “God did this! This is what God does!” Daniel heard a newscaster say, “I don’t believe in God and don’t consider myself religious, but this is making me rethink it.” Millions of people gathered to look at something God accomplished. The rocks, even a moon rock, cries out that he is God (Luke 19:40-44). We beheld his glory on April 8. Some couldn’t see it because their eyes are veiled from seeing his glory, but it doesn’t remove the reality. The entire creation cries out that he is God.
By the end of the day, the boys had said “I’m so glad we saw that together” more times than I can count. It’s a memory we’ll all carry with us forever. Moving the moon over the sun, drawing people to marvel at him, bringing communities together, and showing his glory on an ordinary Monday is just what he does. God did it.
