Rabbi Avi Shafran
Rescued from
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The ordeal of the nine coal miners in Pennsylvania who were finally rescued
after more than three days in a dark, dank hellhole holds substantial food
for thought, perhaps even the seeds of a newfound appreciation of an ancient
Jewish custom.
The nine men showed astounding courage in the face of what they had every
reason to imagine might be their final days in the world of the living, and
their steadfast determination to persevere is undeniably worthy of
admiration.
Even more inspiring is the consideration they showed for one another in such
dire circumstances, sharing among themselves the sandwich one of them
discovered in a lunchbox floating in the cold water that flooded their small
space, and helping one another stay warm. "When one would get cold, the
other eight would huddle around the person.," recounted a trauma surgeon at
a Johnstown hospital where several of the miners were taken, "and when
another person got cold, the favor was returned."
The miners' focus on the spiritual was also commendable. "We done a lot of
praying," recalled one, Thomas Foy, when asked how the group had spent its
time. And their gratitude to those who prayed above ground, and to those
who labored so intensely to rescue them, was a manifestation of
menschlichkeit [humanity]in a cultural era when all too much is taken for
granted by all too many. "I came to thank everybody that was out there and
helped us and prayed for us," Mr. Foy said from a wheelchair, "not for no
story, no fame, no glory. That's the only reason we're here. We can't thank
you enough."
Aside, though, from the shining example of the miners' bravery and sense of
appreciation for one another and for others, their ordeal itself is worthy
of our contemplation.
Picture yourself hundreds of feet below the earth's surface, surrounded by a
sea of water vulnerable to life-threatening hypothermia and the bends,
without nourishment, cut off from loved ones - indeed, from the entire
world.
And then imagine being rescued from the depths, being hoisted to the surface
once again, into the light and the fresh air. Imagine seeing familiar
things again, the sun, the sky, the faces of others. Imagine the gratitude
that would swell any human heart at such a moment.
And then consider the fact that each of us undergoes a very similar
experience every day.
We wake up every morning.
It's not only the fact that in sleep we are not conscious, not in control,
or that people can and do die in their sleep, or even that sleep, like
death, is insistent, and will only be postponed so long. The rabbis of the
Talmud said more; they considered sleep itself to be a microcosm of death -
"one fiftieth" of it, in their turn of phrase and thought.
The very regularity with which we are granted new life each day dulls us to
the import of the fact. That is only human nature, what Emerson
immortalized when he wrote: "If the stars would appear but one night in a
thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many
generations the remembrance of the City of G-d."
But recognized or not, the import is there all the same, and demands every
sensitive soul's attention. Thus, Jewish tradition mandates that a Jew's
first words upon awakening in the morning are to be those of the short
"Modeh Ani" prayer. It is one of the first things observant Jewish parents
teach their children.
"I gratefully thank You," the prayer goes, "living and eternal King, for
having returned my soul to me with compassion. Abundant is Your
trustworthiness."
Few of us, thankfully, will ever experience anything like what the
Pennsylvania miners underwent. But all of us can benefit from relating it
to what we do indeed undergo each and every day as we pull ourselves from
unconsciousness and dark into awareness an light. And our gratitude should
be no less powerful, and no less heartfelt.
the depths
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