The release yesterday of “Earthset,” an awe-inspiring photograph taken by the Artemis astronauts of the Earth setting behind the moon, was enough to spur the religious imagination of the most ardent nonbeliever. It also no doubt conjured up memories for many older Americans of the stunning “Earthrise” images taken from lunar orbit by the crew of Apollo 8 on Christmas Eve, 1968. 

One of those latter photos was described as “the most influential environmental photograph ever taken,” in large part because it is almost impossible to see the Earth from that point of view and not see it as one single interconnected entity. Who can see our divisions, who can justify our exploitation of the planet or each other, when taking such a larger view—a view unparalleled in showing us the beauty of our common home?

“I don’t know that any of us were ever the same after seeing the photo of ourselves from space, a blue marble floating small and fragile and lonely, yet beautiful,” wrote Valerie Schultz in America in 2022. “We suddenly saw our celestial planet as God sees it. As God sees us.”

We should keep in mind that 1968 was no Golden Age in U.S. history, nostalgia for the “Summer of Love” the year before and Woodstock the year after notwithstanding. The Vietnam War was raging at its hottest; riots were tearing apart America’s inner cities; both Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy were murdered; the nation’s social divides were laid bare in a thousand ways. 

The release of “Earthrise” as well as a radio broadcast by the Apollo 8 crew in which they read from the Book of Genesis on that same Christmas Eve provided a welcome respite from the seemingly endless barrage of bad news. Despite its obviously Judeo-Christian provenance, the radio broadcast was an international and interreligious phenomenon like none before: Some estimates were that over a billion people—one in four people on the planet at the time—listened to William A. Anders, James A. Lovell Jr. and Frank Borman read the first 10 lines of the famous biblical creation narrative. They closed with these words:

And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth.

Writing a few weeks later, the editors of America shared some of the enthusiasm and emotional release felt by so many after the broadcast. “Courage, intelligence, faith and freedom—these were the qualities that raised the flight of Apollo 8 from an imagination-shattering event to a truly human experience. The transcendent humanity of the astronauts reminds us of our capabilities of mind, heart and will,” they wrote on Jan. 11, 1969. “With such an example before us, we cannot but be renewed in our determination to become what God has made it possible for us to be.”

They also focused on the explicitly religious nature of the moment:

As the astronauts made clear in their Christmas message, the faith that sustained them went far beyond confidence in their computers, spacecraft, control center and tracking stations. These men believe in God, the God of Genesis, the God who fashioned the heavens and the earth. The astronauts’ choice of the opening verses of Genesis more than fulfilled the ancient prophecy that the voice of the Spirit would be heard to the ends of the earth. Through the testimony of three men, the Spirit resounds throughout the universe. 

And more: 

The flight of Apollo 8 was also a lesson in freedom, the freedom God has bestowed upon the sons of men. Our taxes paid for the rocket, but they did not buy the men. Borman, Anders and Lovell were not prisoners of the machine, or of the government that sent them. Free to say what was in their hearts, in their Christmas message they gave us a meditation from the moon. For those who share their faith, it was the sermon of the century. For all men, regardless of their faith, it was proof that, under our system of government, the heart stays free in the outermost reaches of space.

Like many people the world over, the editors would remain entranced by the Apollo project and humanity’s quest to land on the moon. That legacy continues today: On the 50th anniversary of the moon landing, America released a special “Space Issue.” Stories included a reflection from a NASA employee who became a nun, a look back at fanciful plans to put a chapel on the moon, an analysis of why priests show up so often in science fiction and an essay by Matthew Buscarino, the nephew of James Martin, S.J., who as a young man interviewed many of the American astronauts. 

Back in 1968, the “Earthrise” image popularized a psychological phenomenon: the “Overview Effect,” described in one journal as the “overwhelming emotion and feelings of identification with humankind and the planet as a whole” when the Earth is perceived from a distance. Precious few have seen it in person, but now we all share the image.

The pilot of Artemis II, Victor Glover, had similar sentiments in an interview from space with CBS News on Easter Sunday:

I think, as we go into Easter Sunday, thinking about all the cultures all around the world, whether you celebrate it or not, whether you believe in God or not, this is an opportunity for us to remember where we are, who we are, and that we are the same thing, and that we’ve got to get through this together.

Perhaps we might pray that the vistas and stories coming back from the far side of the moon—from astronauts who have flown further from the Earth than any human ever—will have a similar Overview Effect on all of us today. Our world is once again torn apart by war; our social divisions are once again laid bare; our poor and marginalized continue to suffer despite our prosperity; violence still plagues our society at so many levels. We too need to feel anew a sense of identification with humankind and the planet as a whole.

Maybe today—tonight—we should all take another look at “Earthset.” And let us all remember the words of Pope Francis from “Laudato Si’”: 

The entire material universe speaks of God’s love, his boundless affection for us. Soil, water, mountains: everything is, as it were, a caress of God.

And may God bless all of us, all of us on the good Earth.

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Our poetry selection for this week is “St. Paul Reflects,” by Daniel Luttrull. Readers can view all of America’s published poems here.

Other recent Catholic Book Club columns:

Happy reading!

James T. Keane

James T. Keane is a Senior Editor at America.