February 3, 2003
This past Shabbat another profound tragedy struck the United States and
Israel simultaneously. The Columbia, the first built and oldest space shuttle,
disintegrated upon reentry at the tail-end of its mission, only minutes before
the planned conclusion of its flight.
When the news spread in our community it
left many feeling as though a personal tragedy had occurred. The services were
somber and downcast. How could such a thing happen? Had NASA not made the
progress necessary to preclude another shuttle catastrophe since the destruction
of the Challenger almost 17 years ago to the day? Adding to the tragedy is the terrible
admission that many of us immediately thought that this, too, was some
sort of terrorist attack. The mere fact that this possibility was considered
shows us how sickly today's reality has become.
This time, the feelings of sadness were compounded by the fact that the first
Israeli astronaut, Ilan Ramon, was amongst the dead. If such a thing were
possible, our grief became even deeper. Ilan Ramon was not just a Jewish Israeli
who happened to be an astronaut. He was a proud Jew. His father fought in
Israel's War of Independence. His mother was a survivor of the Holocaust, as
was the Torah scroll he had taken along with him on this flight.
Ramon himself was a military hero for his beloved Israel. He had fought in
the Yom Kippur War. He was one of the eight fighter pilots who had destroyed the
French-built Iraqi nuclear facility in the early 80's. He was a husband and
the father of four children. He was the first Israeli astronaut, and the first
to mark Shabbat and request Kosher meals for his mission.
The sermon of the day had to be discarded. At such times people ask,
"Why?" and a discussion of the events, and perhaps a life-lesson, had
to be found. What can we learn from this tragedy?
The first question that formed in many people's minds was, "Why does
this tragedy seem to strike a deeper chord within us than the nearly continuous
catastrophes that seem to be happening with unnerving regularity in the world
today (and specifically in the Jewish world)?"
There are several possible answers to this question. The Challenger accident
not withstanding, we have come to take space shuttle missions for granted. In
the same way that we have come to take life itself for granted. We forget the millions of
details that go into a successful space flight. Nothing is too small or
inconsequential when one deals with an endeavor of this complexity. There is no
room for error, mechanical or human; there are no second chances. We have
come to expect that everything will go smoothly. We forget the risks.
Of course, there are those whose entire job is to seek out weaknesses in the
system and to envision every possible scenario as to avoid this type of
occurrence. But at the end of the day we are only human. Even the incredible
machines we build have flaws in them. They must, for they are conceived and
built by human beings who are by definition flawed. This realization is
invaluable. Grasping our own fallible nature is the first and most important
step to humility. Humility is a key component of a wholesome human being.
What else can we learn from this event? That a human's grasp on life is
tenuous. None of us know when our time is up. We can take every conceivable
precaution, but even such an approach does not negate the possibility of a
sudden death at any time. This reinforces the fact that we must make optimal
use of every moment of every day. We must approach every day as though it is our last.
This is not a new concept. In the Ethics of the Fathers we are taught
that a person should "repent one day before your death." The obvious
question is asked: but how does one know which day he or she is to die? And the
answer is: that is why we must repent every day, because indeed we do not know
the day we are destined to die.
President Bush put it succinctly and beautifully when he quoted the Prophet
Isaiah: "Lift your eyes and look to the heavens. Who created all these? He
who brings out the starry hosts one by one and calls them each by name. Because
of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing."
President Bush continued in his own words, "The same Creator who names the
stars also knows the names of the seven souls we mourn today. The crew of the
shuttle Columbia did not return safely to Earth; yet we can pray that all are
safely home. May G-d bless the grieving families, and may G-d continue to bless
America."