The Path of Totality
August 23, 2020
Matthew 16:13–20
“Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ And they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will no prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.”
Do you recall the last time “corona” was prominent in the news? Before there was coronavirus — COVID-19, “corona” was all over the news in the summer of 2017 during the solar eclipse. Three years ago, corona did not refer to a virus, but to the dazzling light of the sun’s plasma or “atmosphere” that is usually invisible to us, but which we can see during a solar eclipse. It is that type of “corona” I want to think about with you today.
While it seems like many years back, for a moment in 2017 the world stopped and people stepped outside to observe the strange phenomenon happening in the sky.
Back in time a solar eclipse came as a surprise. In our generation, we have scientists who know years in advance and inform us about when to prepare for observing solar eclipses. In ancient times, the first recorded solar eclipses were quite a shock to humanity. As with other celestial phenomena, people had no way of completely observing or explaining what was happening in the sky, so they came up with their own theories: one was that a dragon was eating the sun. In response, people would sacrifice animals, sometimes even humans, to try to get the dragon to leave them.
Those sacrifices “worked” every time. The sun always returned.
A total eclipse of the sun is a spectacular event and has even change the course of history. Herodotus, a Greek philosopher predicted one such eclipse that occurred May 28, 585 BC during the time the Medes and Lydians were battling each other in a long-standing war. According to Herodotus, the appearance of the eclipse was interpreted as an omen. The fighting immediately stopped, and the parties agreed to a truce. In the annals of history, this has come to be known as the eclipse of Thales, named after the philosopher who is said to have predicted it ahead of time.
Eclipses are much less of a mystery now. We know that there is no dragon in the sky. We know that we do not need to sacrifice anyone or anything to convince the sun to come back. We can predict the exact dates and times of every eclipse, so it is much less of a shock; they no longer change the course of history in quite the same way.
However, a total solar eclipse is still a big deal, and science has made it possible for more people to witness one. The next North American solar eclipse, in case you are wondering, is predicted for April 8, 2024, over a swath from Texas to Maine, in case you want to start making travel plans.
In 2017, people streamed in from all over the country to get into the “path of totality,” where the moon completely obscures the sun, the birds stop chirping, the land goes dark, and all you can see of the sun is the corona — the shimmer around the sun.
People of all faiths and people of none described that eclipse as a deep spiritual experience, and on August 21, 2017, the whole country stopped bickering about everything for just a few minutes to witness the cosmos putting on a show. And then, just like that, life restarted again.
In the Gospel reading from Matthew, we encounter a path of totality, where everything stops for a moment, and where all the disciples look up and see the same thing. Jesus has come a little way since having healed the Canaanite woman’s daughter read about last Sunday. Between that passage and this one, he’s fed four thousand men plus women and children and had plenty of leftovers. Right after that he is bickered with the Pharisees and other religious authorities about showing them a sign that he is really sent from God. Of course, he had just given them a sign — feeding a huge crowd of people out of nothing. No sense of irony, those Pharisees.
Then, after that, even his disciples do not seem to understand who he is or what his mission is. It is one of those times when Jesus must have felt like nobody understood him or his mission, despite constantly talking about it.
Finally, Jesus directly asks his disciples, “Who do people out there say that I am?” Perhaps its intentional he asks a macro question than one specific to the disciples because he knows it will be easier for them to talk about other people’s feelings and assumptions, rather than their own.
Someone in the group ventures a reply: “Well, some say John the Baptist” which could be a case of mistaken identity on behalf of the crowds. John was well known as a forerunner to Jesus. But some might have thought it was a case of John back from the dead — depending on whether they had heard the news that he had been killed (Matthew 14:1–12). Another response to Jesus’ question about who the crowds say he is comes in: “Some say Elijah, others say Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”
Then Jesus asks his disciples pointedly about their own views of him: “Who do you say that I am?” A disciple who, up to that point, has been called Simon steps up and delivers: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”
And just like that, something extraordinary has happened and something hidden has been revealed. They finally said it out loud.
You know those moments when you know something is true, but then when you hear yourself say it, it becomes real for you? This was probably like that for Peter. All of a sudden, things shift dramatically, and you can see things in a way you never have before, all because someone said what she already knew out loud. Peter finds himself in a kind of path of totality, where everything stops for a moment, and where all the disciples look up and see the same thing.
In a few minutes, everything will be back to normal and Jesus will quickly tell them not to tell anyone that he’s the Messiah. But for a few shining moments, everything shifts, and Simon even gets a new name: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! …I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church, and all of hell won’t be able to touch it.”
We are the heirs of Peter and all those who built the church. The church’s history is not a clean one — the church has done plenty of evil in Christ’s name to all kinds of people. But every now and then, we find ourselves in a kind of path of totality. Every now and then everything stops, and we see clearly not only who God is — a self-giving God of love, patience, and welcome — but who we are and who we are meant to be.
We have come from God and we are going to God, and right now, God says: “Who do you say that I am?”
Consider that question for yourself because it will shape who you will be. Sometime today, put yourself in the path of totality. For just a moment, say it out loud: Who is Jesus to you? Who is Jesus to my church?
Solar eclipses shake up a lot within us: they make us see how very tiny we are amid a huge solar system and universe. Eclipses help us to understand something about ourselves. They provide those rare moments of clarity when we can see things that we usually cannot — both literally and metaphorically. They stop everything — all the bickering, even all the suffering, just for a few moments. They help us all to look up and see the same thing.
When we worship together, sing together, commune together, we are in a kind of path of totality. Everything can stop for just a few minutes as we all gather around Christ. Christ may be the only thing we have in common, but luckily, Christ is the only thing that matters.
Imagine if we put ourselves in the path of totality. Let us say who we think Jesus is and who we think we are in Christ — out loud. For once, let us look to Christ, and in so doing, may we look up and see the same thing: love, mercy, forgiveness, and the path of totality — total, complete, and all-encompassing grace. Amen.
