total eclipse of the sun

I am a lover of the moon. I got married on Rosh Hodesh Tammuz. My first child was born and named for Rosh Hodesh Iyyar. We try to celebrate the new moon every month. To the embarrassment of my family, I have been known to shout “Shalom Aleichem” at the waxing crescent. We even have the phases of the moon on our shower curtain and posted on our refrigerator.

So you can imagine my excitement that this coming Monday a total solar eclipse will trace a path across 13 U.S. states, known as the path of totality. I have been delighted by the many people I have spoken with this week who have mentioned their plans to travel to see the eclipse in the path of totality. 

One of my favorite things about Jewish time is that it uniquely follows both the sun and the moon. This is in contrast to the Muslim calendar which is entirely lunar and the Gregorian calendar which is entirely solar. The holidays roam the days of the week but are set in their season. While it leads to many scheduling inconveniences, it also creates a kind of spiritual tetris in time that I love to play. 

One might think that a total solar eclipse would be the ultimate celebration of Jewish time, given our connection to both great luminaries created on the fourth day in Genesis. Imagine my surprise when one excited/concerned congregant texted me, “Why don’t we get to say a blessing over the eclipse?” I must be honest, this was news to me. Which led me to do some research. 

Apparently solar eclipses are as old as time and are referenced throughout Tanakh. Earlier this week, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg noted that “There was an eclipse known as the Bur-Sagale eclipse (well-documented in Assyrian records) that likely took place on June 15th, 763 BCE– and a partial eclipse occurred over the relevant patch of land 60 years later, on March 5, in 702 BCE. The first one is most likely responsible for Amos' writing. Either or both could be the cause of the reference in the Book of Joshua.”

Eclipses are actually a natural phenomenon that illustrate a deeper spiritual power struggle. One midrash that imagines back to the fourth day of creation when the Holy One created these two great luminaries. 

“They were equal as regards their height, qualities, and illuminating powers, as it is said, "And God made the two great lights" (Gen. i. 16). Rivalry ensued between them, one said to the other, I am bigger than you are. The other rejoined, I am bigger than you are.”

Avinu Malkeinu, our ancient parent, steps in to resolve this celestial sibling rivalry, explaining that one will govern the day and the other night. Except for occasions when one eclipses the other. About which there is great spiritual ambivalence which is best illustrated by a teaching in the Talmud:

In masechet Sukkah, “The Sages taught: When the sun is eclipsed it is a bad omen for the entire world.” It is this ancient teaching that leads the rabbis to decide that one does not say a blessing over eclipses. I can imagine their feudal fears. I wonder if they thought perhaps the light might never return, like the first human thought during the first winter. 

Which brings me back to my text message and the question of blessing the eclipse. Given that now we do know that eclipses are actually amazing moments when we see clearly the relationship between the sun and the moon, I would personally be inclined to bless it along with the other great miracles of nature, Oseh ma’aseh v’reishit. 

It is hard to overstate the spiritual significance of this shabbat for our community and for the natural world. It is Shabbat HaChodesh - the Moon’s Shabbat! Which is the special name for the blessed shabbat that precedes the new moon of Nisan. It calls us to spring and renewal, to possibility and liberation. According to the Torah, this is the first new year, a time of beginnings. That Shabbat HaChodesh coincides with the total eclipse of the sun and the first shabbat in our new home is incredible timing. There is a well of blessing opening to us in the universe. 

May we have the courage to open to the light and the dark, the new and the ancient, and to encounter it with caution and awe.