April 19, 2010

• The Graveyard Dive

  John F. Kennedy, Jr. died in a plane crash on July 16, 1999. It was a Friday evening, after sunset. While millions of diligent Jewish mothers were pulling Challah loaves out of warm prelit ovens, the son of a president was dying.*

  The flight data recorders and the National Transportation Safety Board later revealed some strange maneuvering on part of Kennedy. Before the final crash a few miles outside of the destination of Martha's Vineyard, the 29-year-old pilot was making series of banks to the left and right, was increasing and decreasing in altitude, and was speeding up and slowing down in a manner that seemed random and irrational. All this preceded a steep drop in altitude which led to the crash which killed him, his wife, and his sister-in-law. The final word was that the probable cause was pilot error and spatial disorientation.

  According to technicians, the key to flying a plane is to keep the wings level. (Astounding, I know.) When planes bank (this means they drop one wing and roll to turn), they lose some of their lift, and if this isn't accounted for, the angle of the bank increases, the plane turns down, and descends into a downward spiraling corkscrew. This is what pilots call the graveyard spiral... typically, in your 747s, pilots compensate for banks and such, so there's no spirals happening there, don't worry.

  The problem seemed to be that Kennedy was an inexperienced pilot flying at night. In the daytime, the only thing you have to do to make sure your wings are ok is to look out into the horizon. Your eyes, vestibular system (the fluid in your inner ears), and whatnot will help keep the plane level.

  When the horizon disappears, you've got.... well, the machinery and your inner ears.

  But when you're spiral turning like that, your ears aren't telling you anything. I guess you can think of it like spinning a bucket of water really fast on a rope. Everyone around knows you're spinning the bucket, but the water inside remains perfectly level, assuming you're spinning it fast enough. It's not an illusion; it's just physics. So apparently, it's hard to notice that you're in a graveyard spiral if you have your eyes closed. Or you're in complete darkness.

  

  They say that Kennedy's plane started spiraling down at a decent of 900 fpm, at which another turn was attempted, which tightened the spiral and resulted in a descent of 4700 fmp. Yes, that stands for feet per minute. And yes, it's possible to fall that fast in a spiral and not notice. Hence, "disorientation."

  I've been thinking about nosedives. The spiritual faceplant.  

  
  If keeping the plane level is crucial in flying a plane, what is crucial in the Christian life? Or since we're speaking of spiritual matters, the Atheists' life? Maintaining the steady course? Run with patience? Have a balance? Reliance on systems, and logic, and numbers? (Someone said, "If men were meant to fly, God would've given him wings.")

  It's the night flying that gets to the pilots. The inexperienced ones, that is. Flying solely by looking at needles and numbers is something that requires training and hours and hours of flight logs. It requires a putting aside of panic and reliance on typical body feedback systems. It requires memory, and diligence, and practice. Trained pilots can pull out of a spiral dive before the force of pulling out of it tears the plane apart.

  Even atheists have trouble with this "systems" reliance. It's all fun and mighty to be able to lift your nose up, and scoff at the misinformed masses, but rarely have I seen a true-to-blood Atheist who is consistent enough to deny a single shred of a spiritual element in life. In the end, we are always relying on something other than the instruments.

  

  So what of spiritual darkness? Whether it be the atheist's struggle to unravel the meaning of a life that is void of direction, or the Christian's struggle to embrace the presence of God in the depths of despair.

  We have instruments. And the only consistent one I know of is the Word of God. Stable, enduring, everlasting... the same yesterday, today, and forever. The pillar of cloud by day, the blaze of fire by night... this is no time for reliance on mood, feelings of elevation or elation, or biological feedback. This is the time to be able to see past them and know what is right...

  It is a battle, after all, and I often forget that I've enlisted in the front lines. The plane I'm flying in isn't like Kennedy's recreational Piper Saratoga. It's a little clunky, and it's got a big ol' target on it. I've been locked in on.

  This kind of spiritual struggle may not be a crisis of faith. It may be the life and death kind. Sometimes this downward spiral is kind that you never can feel coming until you've hit the ground at 4700 feet per minute. Or felt the tear-to-pieces experience that the G-forces will do when you try to pull out of the turn too late, and in your own strength. Our bodies were not meant for such struggles.

  The devil has asked for each one of us, and our Lord has prayed for us, that we not be sifted. (Luke 22:31) He has not only done that, but made a way, paved by the death of His dear Son, that the load is not upon us, but upon Him. There is one thing about training for night flying (or talking about it); doing it is a separate experience altogether.

  But where else is there to go? He has the words of life. (John 6:68.) And so we keep on.

  

  These times will always come. Difficult times come to good and bad alike. Green berets can't live their lives counting on the (fat) chance that they'll never get shot at in battle. So why be surprised when the pressure turns on? It will come. Drink of the cup patiently. We know that the devil will take whatever he can get, but we are not ignorant of his devices. (2 Corinthians 2:11.) And I can say that I do know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day. (2 Tim 1:12)

  Sometimes we don't know we're on a spiritual collision course. Every other sign might be normal, but God has not left us defenseless. His word is a lamp and a light, a compass and the pilot's instrument. And if we are in that corkscrew dive, He knows how to save us to the uttermost. Even the depths of the sea is not far enough away that His arm cannot reach down to save us.

  "For who shall separate us from the love of God? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ...I am convinced that neither death nor life... neither height nor death, nor anything else in all of creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8 (selected)

  Let us stand on His Word forever.

  "Who is among you that feareth the LORD, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the LORD, and stay upon his God." Isaiah 40:12

  *My heart goes out to the Kennedys. The picture of JFK with his now-deceased son breaks me. He was younger than I am today when he died. I don't mean to be disrespectful at this analysis; it was partly inspired by an article in the New Yorker by Malcolm Gladwell, now published in a little book called, "What the Dog Saw." Interesting, as always, although he has a different spin on it, as always. It was mostly inspired by my life, and my ceaseless curiosity that keeps me up until morning on school days.

  • 11:59 pm
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