May 2024

Friends, 

On April 8, many of us witnessed the eclipse as it traversed a swathe of North America. For those of us in Connecticut, it was a partial eclipse of about 90%. If you could travel as Polly, Nava, Ilan, and I were, perhaps you witnessed totality. What an amazing sight. Thanks to a wonderful friend, we were invited to spend a long weekend around Lake Placid, New York (thanks to Claire, Cy, Micki, and David for a beautiful weekend). On the morning of the eclipse, we went for a short hike along the lakeshore. On our hike, Polly observed a place that seemed perfect for viewing the eclipse.

The place she picked was on a golf course, away from the condos and homes nestled along the shoreline. She predicted that not many people, if any, would be there and we could experience all the changes in nature as the moon transited the sun. About half an hour before the beginning of the eclipse, we returned to this spot, and we were the only people around. Nava and Ilan played with sticks and stones because what else do kids really need to have a good time (cell phones are only a sad replacement for those kids not lucky enough to have plenty of sticks and stones around). Polly and I sat on the gravel cart path to soak up the sun’s warmth and waited. We all put on our special eclipse glasses in time, and the most amazing show on earth began. We started naming what the sun looked like as the moon crossed – a cookie with a bite, a fat banana, a skinny banana, a golden taco, a frowny face. Every few minutes, we would look around and notice the qualities of the light, sounds, and temperature. Just before totality, the birds started calling uncharacteristically; the light began to soften to a twilight blue-gray, and the air became colder. When totality began, there was an odd kind of darkness. The snowcapped mountains in the distance were still light, yet we were in darkness. We took off our glasses. Jupiter and Venus were visible as the sun was now the moon’s black disk with white light casting out all around and an amber solar prominence peeking around the edge; in an instant, totality ended with a brilliant diamond flash of light.

I am still in awe of what I witnessed. Generations before us were awed as well. There are many biblical and Talmudic references to eclipses. For the most part, eclipses were associated with catastrophic events during the times of the Prophets (most notably Amos, Isaiah, and Ezekiel) and deemed to be bad omens in the Talmud (see BT Sukkah 29a), even though the rabbis understood that these were predictable periodic natural events. Indeed, there was a solar eclipse in the Middle East in 763 BCE, and the kingdoms of Israel and Judah would have experienced about 90% of totality, just like in Connecticut. Amos and Isaiah would have experienced something similar to many of us.

Polly and I had agreed before the eclipse that we wouldn’t try to take pictures, say prayers, or do anything else during the eclipse. We just wanted to experience a fantastic event that Polly and I may never see again. Also, we wanted Nava and Ilan to have a lasting memory to carry with them through their lives. Reflecting on the eclipse, I am not filled with dread of catastrophic events to come. Instead, I am given a new respect for my place in the unfolding of God’s creation, the universe, and its grandeur. Pictures, videos, or NASA animations could not capture this grandeur. You just had to be there. I pray for this sense of grandeur to be a light guiding us through our brief yet spectacular lives on this amazing planet. Our existence is undoubtedly a Divine gift.

L’shalom,
Rabbi Marc