Dear Westwood Family,

As those of you who were in the sanctuary last Sunday already know, I’m just back from two weeks of vacation in Spain. On my trip, I had the gift of experiencing a total solar eclipse. If you’ve been around a while, you also know this isn’t my first; since 2017, when solar eclipse totality covered my extended family’s organic farm in daytime darkness for a few minutes, I’ve felt drawn back to the transcendent experience of eclipses.

Back in the days before I had experienced totality, I was utterly unprepared for how much those feeling moments would impact me. Solar eclipse totality is levels more incredible than other celestial phenomena I have treasured: shooting stars, a full moonrise, observing Saturn’s rings through a telescope.

This time, I experienced totality from a hillside near Peñafiel, Spain, a charming town of 5,000 people in north central Spain, in the Ribera del Duero wine growing region. Totality happened late in the day, at about 8:30pm, so the sun was low in the sky. As the moment drew closer, it seemed like everyone in town came outside to look at the sun — finding high ground somewhere, with a clear view of the western horizon, so that they could see the total eclipse of the setting sun.

There’s a castle on the north side of town, on a high hill. From where we were standing, we could watch a stream of people ascending the steep road to the castle. Folks were walking the trails, finding shady perches in hillside caves, lining the edge of the hilltop for a good view. I was struck by the unconventional pilgrimage I could see, as everyone found a place to be. Unlike most pilgrimages, which lead pilgrims to a specific, fixed location, this moment simply called us all out outside, to any one of many places from which we could see the distant sun.

When totality came, there were cries and screams of wonder and joy. Like when I lived in a neighborhood where everyone watched Sunday football with their windows open, and everyone cheered together after a touchdown, it was an emotional moment for each of us, but also for all of us together.

One of the beautiful images that will stick with me, I suspect, is that visual memory of all the people lining up, looking for a vantage point from which to experience wonder and joy. What a gift to get to share this experience with so many strangers and neighbors.

Most days, the wonders I encounter are a little less intense; sometimes, I’m the only one to see them. Still, I feel buoyed by the delight of sharing this eclipse experience with a big community. It was, for me, a reminder of how wondrous the world is. An invitation to humility, and also to hope.

I pray that you, too, have occasions to see and believe the power of waiting and watching for beautiful things. I pray that you will be able to see and be reminded that we are not alone in this world. I pray that you will feel encouraged to take delight in this incredible world.

grace and peace,
Pastor Molly