
I want to use the publication of an excellent new book to talk today a little about religious language -- its uses and misuses.
The book is Miracle on the Hudson: The Survivors of Flight 1549 Tell Their Extraordinary Stories of Courage, Faith, and Determination, by William Prochnau and Laura Parker. Please note that this is not the book that my friend Jeffrey Zaslow helped Capt. Chesley Sullenberger write, Highest Duty: My Search for What Really Matters. I intend to read Jeff's book but haven't yet had a chance.
But back to the Prochnau-Parker book. Just what is a miracle?
I think we'd all do well to limit our use of that term to something that cannot be explained without appeal to divine intervention. We hear about "miraculous" basketball shots or we hear someone say it was "just a miracle" that she ran into an old childhood friend in a distant airport. Similarly, we hear the word "demonic" used to describe evil situations that are clearly the result of human agency.
My plea is that we be more careful about the use of language because using such terms for everyday occurrences devalues the words.
Did an honest-to-God miracle happen when US Airways flight 1549 landed safely -- with no deaths -- in the Hudson River this past January just a few minutes after taking off from from a New York airport and striking a flock of geese? Or was it just a combination of excellent pilot work, fortuitous timing and location and quick thinking by passengers and other crew members?
The authors of this new book do not answer that question directly. Good for them. And they are careful to attribute the original use of the label of "miracle on the Hudson" to New York Gov. David Paterson.
But fairly early in the narrative, they do say that "if a 'miracle on the Hudson' was about to occur, it would require a sequence of 'miracles' to enable it. One Safety Board official close to the investigation counted as many as eight 'miracle requirements' starting with the cockpit crew's experience and innate ability to make almost instant decisions. . ." The other seven "miracles" were: "weather, a calm river clear of traffic, trained rescuers ready at the snap of one's fingers, the structural strength of the airplane, senior flight attendants and, not least, passengers who, despite natural and dreadful fears that would not end when the plane hit the water, did indeed scramble, and occasionally lose it, but got it back fast and did not panic."
The book pays a fair amount of attention to the religious beliefs and practices of the passengers on the plane -- and in some ways these passengers represent the religiously pluralistic America we are becoming:
"Many were praying -- all those faiths, all those visions of God and the route to His Place:
"Balaji Ganesan, a Hindu, looking at the river from seat 20E, sat next to Amber Wells, a Methodist deep in her prayer.
"Heyam Kawas, a Muslim, was hunched over in prayer. . .
"A silent Russian prayer next to a silent Jewish prayer, the believers holding hands.
"There were Roman Catholics, Armenian Orthodox, and all the various Christian faiths that had set their own paths. Christmas and Easter churchgoers. Agnostics and nonbelievers. Men and women who had no idea they were religious until this moment, converts in a kind of flying foxhole."
But it's not surprising that some of the 1549 survivors believe that what happened to them was truly a miracle. As passenger Molly Schugel put it near the end of the book: "There was this miracle so the world could continue to have hope."
I don't discount the possibility that what happened that cold January day to 1549 was a legitimate miracle with some kind of divine purpose. But I think it's too easy to label it that. I know it sounds nit-picky, but just as we shouldn't say "I'm freezing" when we're just a little chilly in a house with a thermostat set at 67, so we shouldn't be calling events miracles when there are rational natural explanations. Exaggeration sucks the power out of words eventually.
I hope all this won't spoil a good read for you. The authors have told a compelling story in the right way -- by excellent reporting. And -- given all the trash "journalism" one finds these days, especially on the Internet -- that may be a small miracle in itself.
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DARN, HE COULD HAVE HAD A V-8
A man in Kentucky, arrested for car theft, said God wanted him to steal a Dodge Charger. Well, maybe. But if God were going to ask someone to steal a car, wouldn't it be a Christler?