Shortly after 7pm on Wednesday 12th August the sky darkened and the light became golden, as if sunset had come early. The moon was moving across the face of the sun blocking out over 95% of its surface. It was one of the best opportunities for experiencing a solar eclipse in decades. Many people were out and about, often gathered in the best local viewing spots. Some of those who had planned ahead had the special eclipse glasses, others had homemade pinhole cameras of various designs. A few had some very professional looking kit. I saw a surprising number of people standing in the street holding a colander! I joined some others on a local sports field, armed with my eclipse glasses. I’d like to tell you that I had planned ahead and bought them before the shops all sold out. But the day before, despite my wife’s best efforts to find some online, we were without glasses. And without a colander in the house, we were wondering how to make a pinhole camera. Like so many others, despite our best intentions, we had been too busy and distracted to buy eclipse glasses. Fortunately an enterprising Girl Scout was prepared. The street WhatsApp group lit up when the Scout’s mum announced they had a good supply of eclipse glasses and they were being sold as a fundraiser. They were soon inundated with orders. It seemed like the whole street were just like us – without glasses, but very keen to have some. When the eclipse finally happened, just for those few minutes, an awful lot of people were looking up. So much of the time we are looking down: at our phones, our shopping lists or whatever it is we need to do next. But there we were, standing in a field, on the pavement, in gardens and on the hill, all watching the same amazing sight. It was a shared moment of awe and wonder. Nobody had organised it. Nobody had to persuade people to come. We simply wanted to see something that was rare and beautiful. Perhaps that is what we need in our busy lives: occasions to stop, to set aside whatever is demanding our attention, and to look up: to let our everyday lives, which usually revolve around ourselves, be eclipsed by something bigger. For Christians, that sense of awe and wonder is a sign of something bigger. The Bible repeatedly encourages us to notice creation and, through it, to recognise its Creator. As Psalm 19 puts it, “The heavens declare the glory of God.” Perhaps the eclipse was a reminder to do just that: stop, look up, and wonder. Comments are closed.
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Revd Stephen SpainSeasonal reflections Archives
September 2026
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