A celestial symphony

Finding faith in the shadow of the moon

BY MATT STAFFORD

MATT STAFFORD is a lifelong Owen countian who enjoys a variety of outdoor activities. He's also fond of writing on his experiences in hiking, hunting, and fishing.

I've always been a bit of a "space nut," but it only seems to worsen with a growing curiosity and yearning for knowledge that accompanies aging. The Great American Eclipse of 2017, even though our location in Owenton wasn't in the path of totality during the eclipse (where the moon completely covers the sun), left me awestruck. In looking forward to the next opportunity to view a total solar eclipse seven years later, I would find a way to put myself in the path this time. So here we are, seven years later, where I'd planned a weekend trip for my wife and me, ending in Sunman, Indiana (appropriately named) on the afternoon of Monday, April 8, 2024. 

Only an hour and a half north of Owen County, we had avoided the interstate traffic near Louisville and Cincinnati by choosing Holtkamp Winery in southeastern Indiana for the celestial event of my lifetime. The venue was a quaint little winery in a town about the size of our own, settled above a small, scenic pond. We arrived just past 11 a.m., and there were already approximately 100 people settled in. The moon wouldn't begin its journey across the sun's face until closer to 2 p.m., so we set up our lawn chairs close to the pond and passed the time enjoying a few drinks, eating a delicious brick oven pizza, reading, and watching a pair of mallards drift across the pond.

I stood up from my chair at the appropriate time, put my solar viewing glasses on (safety first, never look at the sun without them), and turned my head toward the sky. Right on cue, the moon had begun its journey across the face of the sun. It appeared as if a small chunk had been taken out of the bottom right portion of the sun like a child had taken a small bite from a cookie. I was growing more excited as the time ticked away. A gentleman set up speakers on the pond dock and played old country tunes for the ever-growing crowd, swelling to several hundred. This is my element:

Sitting outside on a gorgeous spring day in the 70s

Listening to country tunes

Getting my nerd on

With less than 30 minutes remaining until totality, Mariah and I packed up our gear and headed for the car, where we'd watch the finale. I'd read headlines predicting the possible nightmare resulting from the increased traffic, so we intended to leave as soon as the totality was over. Within less than five minutes of the climax, the difference in the atmosphere was noticeable and changing rapidly. The sky was darkening, birds quieted, crickets began chirping, and dogs began barking in the distance. We're close. This experience only lasts for a few fleeting moments. I strived to pack every morsel into my memory. Counting down from minutes to seconds, the sun is a disappearing sliver.

Then…no visible light is detected through the glasses, and once removed (the only time one can safely view the sun without the glasses is during totality), the most dramatic sight awaits me. It's a total solar eclipse. The most spectacular sight these eyes have ever beheld in nature. The moon is a pitch black, perfectly circular orb in the sky, and surrounding it is a brilliant glow of the sun's corona, the outermost layer of its atmosphere, over a million degrees hotter than its core, with the helmet streamers irregularly spiking out at points. There is a noticeable red prominence at the bottom of the moon, or what I perceive to be a type of solar flare. It's breathtaking. I can't soak it up enough. I snap a photo with my wife to capture the moment, but it doesn't capture how brilliant the sight is or how spiritual the moment is. I'm humbled. I never thought I'd experience a moment like this, truly once in a lifetime. With only a little over two minutes of totality, your brain can hardly process all the information you want to capture. I long wanted to look near the trees for the strange crescent shadows or shadow bands the eclipse produces, but it skipped my mind. I couldn't look away.

The atmosphere mimics a full moon night, dark yet vivid, with a cool air enveloping us. The horizon surrounding us was a sunset. We were entirely in the shadow of the moon, yet the sun shown 360 degrees outside of that shadow in a brilliant sunset effect in every direction on the horizon. Briefly, I took note that Jupiter and Venus were visible to the upper left and lower right, respectively, of the eclipse, but I soon found my eyes revert directly back to the magnificent display. A jet-black disk surrounded by the beaming atmosphere of the sun appeared like a gateway to Paradise. Soon, the moon continued its journey past the sun, unwavering. One final magnificent display of the "diamond ring effect" left my mind reaching for the moon, begging it to stay put, even for just a few more seconds. It was set to motion by the Almighty. Only He can stop it. That concluding exhibit as the sun burst forth its first rays in over two minutes was blinding and blazing, a sign-off for 20 years until the "stars align" yet again for their cosmic ballet.

 Realizing I was back on earth, we hopped in the car and started her up. We were the first car out of the lot. I remember having to turn the lights on as we sped away in our attempt to beat the stampede out of there. It was as if a new morning had dawned as the sun gradually returned to its old self and the moon continued its journey around our rock.

Most modern astrophysicists point to the science of the cosmos and use the knowledge of the universe as a reason to deny the existence of God. Science and faith have a storied past. Some of the former leaders of our faith have punished the greatest minds of their time for believing the well-established fact that the sun is the center of our solar system. Some of the leaders in the scientific community have constantly degraded the beliefs of humans, who are just as intelligent as they are, for their beliefs in a higher power. It's been a battle as old as time itself. In my eyes, they go hand in hand. I believe in God not despite science but because of it.

The sun is 400 times the moon's diameter, while the moon is 400 times closer to Earth, hence the spectacle of an eclipse, and why they line up perfectly for this stellar production. If you were a cosmic giant and could roll the Earth in the palm of your hand, it would feel smoother than the surface of a cue ball. Is all that random coincidence? I can't count how many times I've laid on a patch of grass and watched a meteor shower, peaked through my telescope at the pockmarked surface of the moon, or enjoyed a cup of coffee and soaked up the painting of a sunrise in the solitude of a quiet, still morning. God Almighty is evident in them all.

One of the best analogies I've seen between this scientific event and faith was comparing the eclipse to Christ's tomb. The stone was rolled into place, and darkness covered the Earth, as it literally did when the moon covered the sun. Sunday arrived, the tomb was rolled away, and the Son shone brightly again. Amid that phenomenal cosmic event, my adorable wife sweetly said, "It looks like a portal to Heaven." She wasn't wrong.

This autumn, whether you're watching the sun creep up over the horizon through a patch of woods in a deer stand, taking a scenic drive on a country road to view the changing leaves, or walking your family through an orchard while picking out pumpkins, I pray you find the Almighty in them all. It doesn't have to be a striking and rare event like an eclipse. I've found Him just as easily in a lonely, still morning in a patch of woods as I have in a pew on Sunday morning. I hope it's just as easy for you.