Partial Eclipse of the Heart

By Justin Rossow

The last time a solar eclipse was visible in North America, my son Caleb and I were down in south Texas, and therefore right in the shadow’s path. Caleb was helping me run a Next Step workshop, and we took a break just as the eclipse was at optimum visibility. About half of us went outside to sneak peeks at the heavenly phenomenon: some had specialty glasses, some just squinted briefly through their sunglasses or tried to look through a peep hole in a piece of cardboard.

The unnatural darkness in the middle of the afternoon left us in an eerie twilight, while the double shadows cast by the leaves of a few neighboring palm trees made it feel like you were seeing double. Then the sun slowly reemerged and we went on with our day …

The English word “eclipse” comes from Latin and Old French, but was originally an ancient Greek word, meaning “to fail” or “to go defunct” or even “to die.” It wasn’t a technical word for a solar eclipse, and the Bible doesn’t use that word in some of the places you might expect. None of the “sun will turn to darkness” verses use actual eclipse vocabulary. But the Greek word ἐκλείπω (ekleipó), the origin of our word eclipse, does show up in the New Testament: three times in the Gospel of Luke and once in Hebrews 1:12. Two of those references in particular stood out to me this Holy Week.

Luke 22 opens with Judas agreeing to betray Jesus. Then comes the celebration of Passover on Maundy Thursday, where Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper. In Luke’s Gospel, the subsequent revelation that one of the disciples is going to betray Jesus leads right into a debate about which of them was going to be the greatest. (Insert Jesus face palm emoji here.)

Jesus responds by talking about the upside down values of the Kingdom of God, where those who lead and rule are the ones who serve. And then Jesus turns to the disciple he personally nick-named Peter (“the Rock”) and says:

Simon, Simon [Peter’s fisherman name], Satan has asked to sift all y’all like wheat; but I myself have begged for you personally in prayer, Simon, that your faith may not [ekleipó: completely fail; go defunct; utterly die out]. When you have returned, then strengthen your brothers. (Luke 22:31-32)

Peter, of course, replies that he is ready to go to jail or even to die with Jesus. And Jesus has to let Peter know that he is less than three rooster crows away from completely denying any connection to his Lord and Master.

It’s striking that Jesus reverts to Peter’s given name; maybe Simon isn’t being very rock-like right now. Or maybe it’s just normal variation in regular conversation. I suppose I can use nick names interchangeably with given names and not have it mean anything in particular. Most important is the idea that Jesus has been praying for Simon Peter specifically, individually, and by name.

Satan is out to sift all of the disciples like wheat: a violent and disruptive process that creates upheaval and loss (but ultimately separates the kernel from the chaff). But that sifting can’t happen without God’s permission. And Jesus won’t let it happen without prayer.

In fact, the word Jesus uses to describe his prayer has to do with deep need or deep longing, maybe even a sense of begging or anguished request. And while all of the disciples will be sifted, Jesus wants Peter to know that he has personally and individually been prayed for.

Peter is still going to deny Jesus three times. Peter is still going to go out and weep bitterly. Peter is still going to be confused and frightened by the arrest and trial, crucifixion and death of his Rabbi. But Jesus sees the end of the story, and knows Peter’s weakened faith will not go completely out.

The darkness will be great, but it won’t be permanent. Peter’s faith will be eclipsed, but ultimately, it will only be a partial eclipse of the heart. And when Peter returns again to the courageous and outspoken disciple we know so well, he has his marching orders: strengthen your brothers. (They are going to need it.)

That personal, intimate prayer for a friend in the midst of an eclipse of faith seems even more poignant to me because it is Jesus who is personally and intimately involved in this anguished prayer overflowing from deep need. That’s exactly the kind of prayer Jesus himself is longing for in the Garden of Gethsemane, when he asks his friends to watch and pray. But when Jesus goes off to wrestle with God in deep anguish, he returns to find his closest friends asleep, overwhelmed with grief (Luke 22:39-46). His abandonment has begun.

Just then, Judas shows up with a small army to put Jesus under arrest. Jesus himself calls this the hour “when darkness reigns” (Luke 22:53). After a brief and confused resistance, the disciples scatter. Let the sifting commence.

Such a contrast! Jesus prays for these disciples as a group, and for Peter personally; and then the disciples as a group abandon him, and Peter personally and repeatedly denies him.

The darkness is deepening.

After the beatings, and the sham trials, and the sentence of death, Jesus is crucified for the crime of being who he said he was. And that’s when Luke uses the eclipse word again:

It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining (ekleipó: completely failed; went defunct; utterly died out). And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last (Luke 23:44-46, NIV).

Jesus prays that Peter’s faith would not completely be eclipsed; and then Jesus goes to the cross and is utterly snuffed out.

Jesus is the One whose friends failed to pray; the One who experienced full and final darkness; the One who experienced a total eclipse of the soul.

And yet, Jesus is also (therefore?) the Faithful Friend who never fails; the One who prays deeply and longingly for you in your moment of darkness; the One who rescues and returns you to life and light.

After the Sabbath rest, the women go to the tomb to complete the burial process. Luke 24:1 tells us it was “very early in the morning.” John 20:1 adds: “while it was still dark.” But the hour of darkness is over; the sun will no longer fail to shine. The eclipse has passed, and Jesus is not in the tomb; “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!” (Luke 24:6-7).

Risen, ascended, glorified, this Jesus now sits at the right hand of the Father, and is always interceding for us (Romans 8:34). His longing prayer has not ceased; it still overflows from the deep need Jesus personally experiences for the ones he loves. The power of darkness is broken, but until Eternal Dawn breaks, Jesus will still be praying for those whose faith has momentarily failed.

So if you get a chance to see the solar phenomenon this April 8th, remember the origin of the word eclipse. When the sun fails to shine, and a dark shadow covers the earth, remember the death of Jesus on the cross, the hour when darkness reigned.

But as the sun again begins to shine, remember that first Easter dawn and the light that broke into the empty tomb. Remember Jesus and his anguished and personal prayer for Peter, and think of the glorified Jesus interceding at the throne of grace for you.

When you are experiencing violent upheaval, when you find yourself in your own dark Garden, when your faith feels like it is failing and your soul has come under a shadow, remember Jesus. And take his words to Simon to heart:

“I myself have begged for you personally and intimately in prayer, that your faith may not be completely eclipsed. And when you have returned from the brink of darkness, strengthen the friends I put around you.”

The prayers of Jesus for you are a sliver of light, even in the dark.

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