Pages

Sunday, 14 April 2024

Sermon - Eclipse our doubt. Embrace the awe.

Howard Russell Butler, Solar Eclipse, 1918

A sermon given during the Sung Eucharist at St George’s Bloomsbury on Sunday 14th May 2024 – The Third Sunday of Easter (Year B) based on the text of Psalm 4, Acts 3.12-19 and Luke 24.36b-48

People cheering in excitement, others crying out in wonder, some laughing in disbelief and then - what seemed like a collective gasp of amazement.


On Monday evening I tuned into coverage of the solar eclipse, witnessed first hand by over thirty one million people across North and Central America and by many millions more watching online. The reaction of the crowds gathered under the path of totality making just as gripping television as the celestial event itself!

Those who were able to find words to describe it talked about the mystical, ethereal, mysterious and unworldly nature of the occasion. One self-proclaimed ‘eclipse chaser’ told a reporter that witnessing a total solar eclipse is an ‘end-of-days’ experience. Others also explained how uneasy they felt in the moments before totality – a sense of fear or foreboding as the darkness approached. Many described having lumps in their throats, their eyes streaming with tears – their skin covered in goosebumps as the temperature plummeted when the path of the moon blocked the heat and light of the sun. 

I imagine that not all of us will have experienced a total solar eclipse in person - but we may be able to recall similar powerful sensations - when we have encountered a vast or beautiful landscape perhaps? Looking across a canyon, or great waterfall or at a sunset over the ocean. 

I remember the first time I saw the night sky while staying in a desert area of South Africa. A part of the world so remote, so far from any form of light pollution, that the different colours of individual stars were apparent – their light so bright you didn’t need a torch. The pale white glow of the Milky Way living up to its name - more clearly visible than I have ever seen it before or since.

The psychologist Dacher Keltner describes such moments as experiences of awe.

His recent book of the same name contains accounts of people from twenty six different cultures who are witnesses to the transformative power of awe. But despite studying the phenomenon for over twenty years and interviewing over 3,000 people, he is still unable to clearly define it. Awe is, quite literally - beyond words. 


Many of its effects are however, less mysterious - thanks to the work of scientists like him. 

 

Experiencing awe, they have found, has the effect of de-emphasising our sense of self and making us more aware of our connection to systems - ecosystems, value systems. This humbling effect can help to engender a sense of community, with those who experience awe more likely to act in a way that is more respectful of the environment, more respectful of other people. People who experience awe act less selfishly. 

 

Perhaps the psalmist is stating a fact as well as giving direction when they sing: “Stand in awe and sin not.”?

 

A solar eclipse seems to have the same effect - albeit temporarily.

Researchers who analysed social media posts by those in the path of totality of a previous eclipse found a surge in language that expressed connection and humility - “us” used instead of “me” - “maybe” instead of “always”.

 

Twenty four hours later however and the Twitter feeds reverted back to individualistic, binary and aggressive discourse. 

 

In his book, Professor Keltner categorises awe-witness testimonies into eight ‘wonders’ - areas in which awe may be encountered. As well as in the natural world, this includes being awe struck by big ideas and at moments at the beginning and end of human life - the birth of a baby and the death of a loved one. 

 

He recounts his own epiphany moment, shortly after the death of his  younger brother, when he was certain he felt his brother’s hand on his back. 

 

An experience that was both terrifying and joyful. But one so powerful that it persuaded the Professor to choose to embrace the mystery of awe. To accept that there are some things that science cannot completely explain. His career was transformed.

 

Another of Dacher Keltner’s eight categories of awe is what he calls ‘moral beauty’.  Acts of love, courage and sacrifice both big and small which are mind-blowing. They are awesome. And which, like an eclipse or an encounter in nature, have a transformative effect on each of us. 

 

I think Keltner might find it hard to place the testimony in our gospel reading in his book. Because we find the disciples struck by at least three of his categories of awe at the same time as they encounter the risen Jesus again. 

 

First, the awe surrounding the death of their friend. Which early Christian art depicted as taking place during a solar eclipse; the sun and the moon both rendered black by grief in many images.

 

Like Keltner’s account of the experience after his brother’s death, St Luke tells us that the disciples displayed mixed emotions. “They were startled and terrified”. “In their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering”. Maybe, like the eclipse watchers on Monday, they also had goosebumps on their skin and a lump in their throat? Perhaps there were tears of joy and gasps of amazement as they saw their dead friend stand among them and say “Peace be with you”? 

 

On top of this, the disciples must grapple with another of Keltner’s categories of awe. While Christ is dead he is not a ghost. The gospel account goes out of its way to tell us that the Risen Jesus has flesh and bones - and eats some cooked fish. The disciples are awe-struck by the big idea - the epiphany - of the Resurrection. The truth that Christ defeated death and rose again.  

 

And while they are coming to terms with the awe of that big idea, there’s yet more to come.   

 

Jesus explains to the disciples how all of scripture – all that has been written in the books of law, the prophets and in the psalms – everything that the disciples will have heard and sung in the temple and during festivals – all that connects their past, their present and their future to God - is fulfilled by Christ’s death and resurrection.

 

Jesus reveals to the disciples the moral beauty of His passion. An awesome act which has the ultimate unifying effect - turning enemies into neighbours.

 

Just as with the solar eclipse it is mystery that animates the awe – and as Professor Keltner himself found, we must choose to inhabit that mystery for the awe to have any lasting effect. 

 

It is clear from our reading from the book of Acts that the disciples did just that. Today we hear Peter standing in Solomon’s Porch on the Temple Mount addressing the crowd - witnessing publicly to the moral beauty of the Christ’s resurrection. 

 

According to one assessment there are nominally two billion people around the world believe in that Good News.

 

It’s easy to forget that we are part of an awesome worldwide community of faith gathering today. Not to remember a historical event but to encounter the awe that is the moral beauty of Christs resurrection and to be transformed by it.

 

If a solar eclipse can change the behaviour of millions of people for twenty four hours, imagine the goosebumps, the tears, the gasps of astonishment, the loss of selfishness, the unity, the reconciliation, the peace if two billion people leave church today and choose to truly embrace the awe of the Good News?

 

The disciples were the first to do so. To be transformed by it and to proclaim it to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 

 

Today Christ is calling you and me and billions of others around the world to do the same. To stand in awe as fellow witnesses in the path of totality of God’s saving grace. To feel the moral beauty of Christ’s passion – to choose to embrace the mystery of the resurrection life - to allow the light of Christ to eclipse our doubt & fear. And to proclaim peace, forgiveness and reconciliation from the gates and porticos of the world. Beginning from Bloomsbury. 


Image : Eclipse by Howard Russell Butler, 1918

No comments:

Post a Comment