Underwhelming

Laura Booz: Do you remember the total solar eclipse of 2017? I do. I remember the weeks ahead of time, when we all prepared for this highly anticipated celestial event.

And I will never forget what I saw when I looked through my solar eclipse viewing glasses on August 21. 

Now, it has been a few years ago and you may forget what all the hubbub was about. So, let me jog your memory. The moon passed between the sun and the earth and completely blocked the sun’s light. It cast a shadow on the earth. And if you were in the part of totality, you could observe a breath-taking spectacle. 

Midday light suddenly appeared as if were night. The sky turned dark, the temperature dropped, crickets chirped, stars shown. You could really sense the presence of the moon in the heavens while getting a rare look at the sun’s corona. 

People in the right place, at the right time, broke down in tears—tears of joy and wonder as they observed this phenomenon and as they contemplated their place in the universe. 

Hi there. You’re listening to Expect Something Beautiful with Laura Booz. 

In 2017, the fact that this total solar eclipse was traversing the entire continent of the United States was extraordinary because total solar eclipses are relatively rare events to begin with, and they often occur in remote locations or even over the ocean. 

In fact, the last time an opportunity like this had presented itself to the people of the United States was 1918, and it wasn’t going to happen again anytime soon.

So, some people made plans years in advance to travel to a place along the path of totality. 

In the months leading up to the solar eclipse, absolutely everyone was talking about it. Social media platforms, websites, news outlets, schools, everyone covered the event extensively. 

My family and I tuned in. We learned the science behind the eclipse. We studied the map of its path, and learned the best way to observe it safely. 

It seemed like all of America was reading books about solar eclipses, and building models of the sun and the moon out of paper mâché. 

We were doing science experiments, crafting eclipse artwork, making masks, baking sugar cookies. Depicting the sun in orange icing and the moon in black. Eating our fair share of moon pies, hosting viewing parties. 

Here on the farm on that August afternoon in 2017, all of nature seemed in rare form. The honey bees swarmed, the neighbor’s cows escaped from the pasture, the barn swallows swooped around the yard in an unusual frenzy, and rare rabid racoon lumbered out of the woods with its muzzle full of porcupine quills and laid down to suffer in our garage. We closed the garage door to keep it contained and called the Game Warden. What a day! 

We were not on the path of totality, but we still had high hopes that we would see something impressive with everyone else in the United States. 

We invited friends over to join us in our solar eclipse activities. We ate our snacks, and at just the right time, we all went outside on the lawn and held up our special viewing glasses. 

We stared up into the universe. But the temperature didn’t drop. The crickets didn’t stop chirping. The afternoon sky didn’t grow dark. 

I squinted through my ocular device to observe a small fuzzy black circle shift across the sun. Huh . . . was that it? Was that all there was to the total solar eclipse? I had hoped I would feel a sense of awe. I had hoped I would feel overwhelmed by the vastness of the universe, but in fact I felt . . . well . . . kind of underwhelmed. 

Yes, I think that’s the word, after all of the hype and excitement, my experience with the total eclipse was a bit underwhelming. 

Later that day, I received a message from a friend who had been in the path of totality. And she sent a recording of the people gathered together for the viewing party: they cried, they laughed, they called out exclaiming the greatness that they were experiencing as the moon aligned with the sun and the earth. 

As it turns out, the dim I observed as I looked through my viewing glasses, did not accurately reflect what was happening in the heavens. 

My underwhelming experience of the eclipse did not represent its real meaning. My unimpressed assessment of the eclipse did not represent the actual value. Something incredible was happening in our solar system. 

It’s just that from my little place on planet earth, I could only glimpse a shadow of it. There I was shrugging my shoulders and saying “eh” about something far grander than I could have imagined. Something I couldn’t even safely look at with my own eyes. 

All of this came to mind on a Sunday morning, when I was celebrating Communion with my local congregation. We sang a song about Christ’s sacrificial love and then the Pastor read Jesus’ words from Matthew 26. It says, 

“Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of thecovenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” 

The celebration itself was full of profound truths, like forgiveness and imputed righteousness and grace. And yet, in my palm I held a small one-inch square of crumbling bread. And between my thumb and forefinger I balanced a two-inch tall cup of Communion wine. 

My body felt tired. I was a little distracted, trying to stay focused on the beauty at hand. And as we ate the brand and drank from the cup, I had to wonder, is this all there is to the Lord’s Supper? It’s so brief, a mere taste, a quick shadow passing over across the sun. 

And yet, in reality, the Holy Spirit of God is working in the depths of our souls, reminding us about Christ, reminding us of His forgiveness, transforming us with His Spirit, and aligning us with Himself. 

While we are merely lifting bread to our lips, God is glorifying Christ in our hearts. I thought of the cross, a mere wooden structure upon which Christ displayed God’s immense love for humanity. A mere wooden structure upon which Christ triumphed over sin and the devil. The humble underwhelming cross, which represents the ultimate act of selflessness, where Jesus willingly gave His life to reconcile humanity with God, to offer forgiveness and hope and eternal life to all who believe. 

It was at that moment that I was reminded of the lesson I learned from the total solar eclipse of 2017. For the Christian, simplicity does not always equate to shallowness. And smallness does not equate to worthlessness. Even feeling underwhelmed does not equate to meaninglessness. Mere shadows are often the very thing that remind us that somewhere, someday, the truth will be crystal clear. 

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. (1 Cor. 13:12). 

Expect Something Beautiful is a production of Revive Our Hearts calling women to freedom, fullness, and fruitfulness in Christ.