Continuing Part 2 (Part 1 here) about my interesting plane ride in the middle seat.
Sitting next to me on the aisle was a nice gentleman who I found cheerful and talkative. That is, until the plane started to taxi. It turns out that this middle-aged man was deathly afraid of flying. As a matter of fact, he is also afraid of people, cities, crowded spaces – and flying. He said matter-of-factly, “I have lots of phobias.”
Years ago he lived in New York City. Something happened and he just had to get away. He decided to escape to the Maine woods, where he lives alone in one of the most remote parts of upper-Maine, hours from any civilization. He uses a wood-burning stove, hand pumps his water and enjoys the quiet. Because of the death of a dear friend he was returning from a funeral in Atlanta. It had been years since he’d been around large groups of people, cities, oh – and flying.
Once we were airborne he relaxed. He overheard my Jewish friend at the window happily talking away with me about faith (hers and mine) religions, colleges and futures. He joined in to let us know, he didn’t believe in God. As he lived in the woods surrounded by mountains and indescribable beauty he often wondered if there was a God, but had concluded there was not. He seemed very satisfied in his unbelief.
Unfortunately the story has a sad ending. As we were descending, we hit some turbulence. The gentleman gripped the seat in front of him, started to sweat, tried to muffle his desire to cry-out. He was sure he was going to die. I didn’t know what I could do or say to provide comfort. To face certain death without hope for a future with Christ, is certainly frightening. This was not a good time to witness. This was a time though that I could pray during those last few minutes of descent. I sat in my seat and prayed. Prayed that he’d be O.K., prayed that one day he would put his trust in God, prayed that he would find rest for his troubled soul. I also prayed the God would give me the right words of comfort to say if that was the right thing. No words came. The plane landed uneventfully. I said good-bye to my Jewish friend and God bless you to my agonostic friend. My prayer today is that those on either side of my middle seat will soon be drawn to the Father to live under his Fatherly care and blessing.
Related posts:
- The Preacher and the IRS agent – Part Deux Alex Sims at Common Grounds Online starts with an...
- The Beginning, Middle and End of Life ...
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
As a former theology student and currently an airline captain (and therapist) who works with fearful fliers, I would strongly suggest that the way God is known to us is – not by imagination of some being – but by the God-like-ness that is experienced in other persons. I have found in my work that clients whose religion is based on a CONCEPT of God can not master their fears, but those who find – with another human being – a moment of profound connection (as Martin Buber wrote, "I-Thou") and link that moment to challenges such as flying, they master the fear because the experience of God is real, not just a concept of God.
Interesting comment and very interesting line of work!
At different times of my life I have been more fearful of flying then others (i.e. post 9/11). For me my comfort comes from the knowledge that God is in control and sovereign over all things including the plane and particularly my life. I also know God is good and that I will someday be with him in eternity.
These three things, God’s sovereignty, God’s character and God’s promise provide comfort and a base for my sometimes nervous prayers.
This doesn’t mean I’ve conquered all phobias and fears – but it does provide a foundation under my often shaky feet.
Some clients have told me that when they see there is a priest on a flight, they aren't fearful because they think, "God won't take them to get to me," as there seems to be (for some) a feeling that taking a flight is God's chance to get them – as if one needs to fly to give God that opportunity. Interesting. And, several times, I have taught the course I do at Fairfield University, a Jesuit school. I was amazed how many priests and nuns showed up. I kidded them about "Where's your faith?" and they in good human said that they had faith nevertheless . . . . They also were amused about the idea that their being on-board helped other passengers, but one said, "It doesn't work for me!"
In terms of psychology, a hormone (oxytocin) is produced when there is a moment of profound connection with another person in which, because they feel your feelings, they cannot injure you without hurting themselves. Thus, that empathic connection does provide safety. And in those moments, oxytocin shuts down the fear system. So, in the method I use, I link a moment that produces oxytocin when recalled to each moment when flying, and that provides control of the anxiety. That's why I suggested that a direct one-to-one experience with another person is powerful in controlling anxiety (through oxytocin release) but a concept – nor prayer – is not so effective as it probably doesn't release oxytocin.
Though you may have a different experience, mine is that our real experiences of God are found in relatedness to God in other people, and that our access to an experience of God other than that is quite possibly not what we think it is. In other words, I'm not sure God can be experienced in any way other than within another person.
Whether that is true or not, I do feel sure it is the special connection found with another person that provides the comfort emotionally, though intellectually we can think of God in control and not necessarily gain emotional control.