Faith on a Wire

I've been wanting to post about the June 15 high-wire walk across Niagara Falls by Nik Wallenda, but as always, my insanely busy schedule has kept me from doing so in a timely manner. Patience and persistence usually win out in the end, however. Mr. Wallenda has proved that.

Some months ago I heard about New York and Ontario authorities dispensing with their century-long ban on daredevil stunts at Niagara Falls so as to allow the 33-year-old Wallenda,of the famous "Flying Wallendas" family of aerialists to attempt a crossing of the Niagara Gorge directly over the brink of the Falls. I took a rather dim view of that action at the time, wondering what other silliness local authorites would stoop to promoting in order to generate a few dollars to prop up their ailing economy. More recently, I heard that the "event" would be televised, but didn't make any special plans to watch it, as I regarded the whole thing as roughly equivalent to the second coming of that 1970s oddball Evel Knievel.

But with Friday evening winding down and a little free time on my hands before retiring, I decided to check out the broadcast. I grew up just a few miles from the Falls on Grand Island, New York, and worked in the Niagara Falls State Park for two summers during college, so I'm quite familiar with all parts of it and thought it might be a hoot to see all the commotion and circus atmosphere there on TV.  I had heard that Wallenda had been required to use a safety tether to prevent a fatal mishap, so I didn't have to worry about having to witness something like that (I might be a little more squeamish than the average person). I wasn't quite prepared for the experience I was about to have.

I tuned in just a few minutes before Wallenda started his walk, so I didn't see any of the lead-up coverage. It was interesting indeed to see the area at the head (or is it the foot?) of Goat Island I had walked through countless times brilliantly illuminated, jammed with people at 10 o/clock at night, and being  televised around the globe. Suddenly the camera focused on Wallenda, who climbed up onto a 2-inch metal cable stretched across the precipice of the Horseshoe Falls and the yawning Niagara Gorge into Canada, balanced a long pole between his outstretched hands, and began stepping, ever so sedately, down the wire.

In moments, Wallenda was beyond land and suspended above the raging rapids of the Niagara River as they approached the brink of the Falls. I was transfixed. The aerialist was walking ramrod-straight, atop a wire narrower than an infant's foot,  perfectly focused and calm--even talking casually with reporters and his father by microphone--as the angry torrents rushed past beneath him. Soon he was at and then across the edge of the cliff itself, while thousands of gallons per second of frigid water hurtled over with a deafening roar, into a churning maelstrom 174 feet below (this is not hyperbole; I've spent countless hours at this place myself and can attest to the fantastic power and violence of all that water). The photography during this part of the show was breathtaking, as it focused on the tiny figure traversing the almost-invisible wire while dwarfed by the mighty Falls behind him.

 

But that was hardly the most difficult part of the walk. Wallenda kept going, robot-like, into the swirling clouds of mist above the center of the "horseshoe."  "Mist" is a misleading word; the flying water here is actually equivalent to a cold, driving rainstorm, whipped about by fierce and ever-shifting winds (if you've ever taken a ride on the Maid of the Mist boat near the base of the falls, you've experienced this for yourself). Yet, through all the breathtaking ferocity about him, soaking wet and perched precariously where the water below is deeper than the Falls themselves are high, Wallenda never faltered, or even paused. His moccasin-clad feet seemed to be small machines unto themselves, advancing in short, careful steps with an amazingly precise rhythm that never varied during the entire almost-half-hour of the walk, regardless of the elements hurling against their owner's body.  Again, the video was amazing; despite the swirling mist, Wallenda (and his incredibly calm, focused gaze) was so clearly visible to the camera I felt almost as though I were walking backwards on the wire just a few feet ahead of him, through the eerily backlit cloud.

The most amazing feature of the event, however--at least for me--was hearing Wallenda, over an open wireless microphone, thanking and praising God and Jesus Christ (for example, "Thank you Jesus, my righteous king . . ." "Thank you, Lord God.  Thank you, Jesus." ) as he stepped relentlessly along the wire. It was electrifying to hear a famous, accomplished person, at the moment of his greatest trial and his greatest triumph, extolling our Lord and giving Him all the glory. I had no idea at before then that Wallenda was a Christian, but learning so at that moment and in that way put the whole event in a new, positive perspective for me. I want to thank ABC for not shutting off Wallenda's mike in secular embarrassment at this flagrant display of religious faith.

Perhaps it's only natural that someone who makes a career out of risking his life would get into the habit of praying, mostly to be spared sudden, violent death. But Wallenda didn't seem to be praying for deliverance so much as thanking God in advance for success and for the opportunity to glorify Him in front of millions of people. There wasn't a trace of fear in his voice, only exultation.

Some people have criticized the feat as a pointless, self-glorifying stunt that only "tempted" God even as Wallenda was flaunting His name. Others have suggested that Wallenda's prayers were but a cheap play for sympathy, approval, and even money from a gullible public. I can't see into another person's soul--no one can--so I couldn't pass judgment on Wallenda's motives. I can only judge what I witness, and what I saw Friday night was an intensely focused, remarkably calm, utterly confident man who--for all the world to see and hear--committed his every step in absolute trust and gratitude to his Savior.

Wallenda's "stunt" seems much less crazy and irresponsible when one considers the combination of personal and spiritual elements that made it possible: ambition, resolve, tenacity, self-assurance, self-sacrifice, patience, relentless preparation, carefully cultivated skill, and, perhaps most of all, faith: faith that it could be done, that he could do it, and that the Lord would sustain him and see him through to success in the end. Maybe the act of walking on a wire over rushing water does not, of itself, substantially benefit anyone. But the fact that Wallenda could do such an improbable thing and the way he did it, despite the laws and elements of nature and all the challenges that would have defeated a less stalwart man (like me), serves as a compelling model for all people of the faith it takes to realize a seemingly "impossible dream."  Wallenda's feat maifests the truth of what Christ himself said: "With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26) The formula: strive to and beyond what you think are the very limits of your capability, and then, when you have done all you can do, trust the rest--and yourself--entirely to the Lord. That's what Wallenda did up there on that wire a week ago Friday night.  As he explained in a post-event interview: "Faith plays a huge role in what I do," Wallenda said. "I believe God has opened many doors for me in my life and this is one of them. To inspire people around the World, let them know the impossible is not so impossible if you set your mind to it."

As another perceptive commentator has observed:

What Wallenda taught us as he walked across the Falls was the power of awe.  He taught us the power of worship.  Intensely concentrating in order to maintain his balance and composure, Wallenda's mind was on His God who had given him the incredible ability to pull of this stunt and who had created wonders of creation such as Niagara Falls.  And so he gave witness to Christ all the way across the Falls.

* * * * * 

One other thing about this event merits discussion. Wallenda expressed some embarassment and annoyance both before and during the walk at having to wear a safety line that secured him to the cable, which was required by ABC, and perhaps local authorities, as a condition of getting permits and TV coverage for the act. While that might have been an "insult" to Wallenda professionally, I am SO glad he used it and didn't take it off during the walk, as some people predicted he might. Wallenda has a wife and small children, all of whom were present at the event.  It's unthinkable what they and we would have had to witness had he not worn the safety line and fallen from the wire, all the more with such a tragedy being broadcast on television around the world. In my personal opinion, we don't need any more obscene violence, or threatened violence, for people to watch as "entertainment."  Enough with degrading voyeurism!  That this wasn't necessarily a "death-defying stunt" (it still might have been; safety devices don't always work, as parachutists know all too well) didn't detract one iota from its power for me; in fact, I wouldn't have watched it otherwise. It was enough to see whether such a feat was humanly possible. That he did it, regardless of the harness, thrilled me and millions the world over to no end. If Wallenda attempts a wire crossing of the Grand Canyon, as apparently is his plan, I pray he uses (or is made to use) a safety tether again. If so, I'll watch and be thankful to him for the faith he's so boldly modeled for all, whatever the outcome.

SEE FOR YOURSELF!  Click here to see the complete Niagara Falls high-wire walk program from ABC (including pre-event coverage, with commercials). For raw video of the walk itself (no audio), click here.  For highlights of the walk itself (without commercials), click here.

Religious Expression: The New Flatulence?

I was listening to our local radio sports talk show the other night, and up came the subject of Tim Tebow, apparently now the most widely admired, or despised, human being on the planet. In addition to his remarkable athletic and team leadership skills, Tebow--once a quarterback for the University of Florida Gators and now one for the NFL's Denver Broncos--is just as famous (or infamous, depending on your viewpoint) for his public assertions and displays of Christian faith. For example, he likes to etch references to Bible verses into his eye black, and take a knee in brief prayer on the field before, after, or during a game. He did the latter a couple of weeks ago after leading the Broncos back from a 15-point deficit in the last five minutes of a game against the Miami Dolphins. Ecstatic fans started copying that stance at home, in public, and everywhere, and posted pictures on Facebook of themselves and others doing it. And just like that, "Tebowing" was born. There's even a web site devoted to it.

The fan euphoria evaporated quickly the next week, however, when the Detroit Lions decimated the Broncos and Tebow had a terrible game. To add insult to injury, Lions linebacker Stephen Tulloch sacked Tebow in the first quarter and celebrated by doing his own bit of "Tebowing" while the man who inspired that move was still lying on the ground. This sparked a storm of controversy in the sports world over whether Tulloch was "mocking" Tebow and his beliefs by taking a knee over him. Tebow himself, as a befitting a Christian gentleman, took no offense and dismissed the incident as just another football player "having fun with his teammates" (but the backlash against him continues; at a game against the Oakland Raiders this past Sunday, Raiders’ fans held signs that read “Welcome to Hell,” directed at Tebow during the pre-game warm-ups).

During the talk show one of our local sportswriters, while criticizing Tulloch's gesture, suggested that Tebow "deserved it" for "wearing his religion on his sleeve," and that kneeling and praying should be limited to the locker room or the privacy of the player's own home. "I don't need to see that," he said in a disgusted tone of voice, and opined that such behavior was probably just for show anyway. Another sportswriter on the show also criticized Tulluch's "Tebowing," but stressed over and over that he was "not a religious person."

I started to seethe as I listed to this banter. It wasn't about Stephen Tulloch's kneeling in mock prayer over Tim Tebow's prostrate body--if Tebow himself can pass that off as a clever joke, so can I--but rather the attitude of the sportswriters in speaking about religious faith, or the public expression of it, as though it were something offensive that one just doesn't manifest in polite company.

What's happening in this country? Since when did acknowledging God become socially unacceptable, like belching or breaking wind? Perhaps it was when openly anti-religion groups like the ACLU, and atheistic professors and commentators in academia and the mainstream media, convinced America's intellectual elite--even sportswriters?--that expressions of faith are out of bounds (no pun intended) in the public sphere, a sinister threat to our secular "multicultural" society and even to our democratic political system. We're all familiar with their efforts to remove any reference to or reminder of God from public schools, public meetings, and public property, even streets and sidewalks. Now, apparently, their sympathizers would like to remove those things from purely voluntary, privately funded events like professional sports contests (as well as from ads televised during broadcasts of those events--remember the furor a couple of years ago over Tebow's pro-life spot with his mom that aired during the Super Bowl?)

Why do some people feel outraged or threatened when a young athlete briefly takes a knee in public, apparently to give thanks to or invoke the aid of, the Deity in which he or she believes? And how would a casual observer know--and why would he or she presume--that such an act is empty and hypocritical? Wouldn't it be just as easy to assume that it is sincere? Why, then, would the observer be offended? And why would someone who didn't think anything offensive was being done take elaborate pains to dispel any suspicion that he is a "religious person"? Does he think he'll be shunned, or not invited to cocktail parties?

Gestures like Tebow's aren't novel or uncommon at sporting events. Over the years I've seen many football players other than Tebow take a brief knee in the end zone after scoring a touchdown, or even make the sign of the cross. I never heard criticism of those acts, so one wonders whether it's Tebow himself, and his more outspoken brand of faith, that some people object to. And there are certainly other common practices by players that we "don't need to see," like scratching their "private areas" or patting each other on the rear end, that I've never heard a sportswriter complain about.

I suspect that unashamed, public expressions of faith rub many people the wrong way because their consciences are pricked, and they might be reminded that their lives are not focused where they should be. Almost always the expression, especially one like Tebow's at a sporting event, is not intended to embarrass anyone or make them feel badly. But the expression and the one making it is condemned nonetheless.

Not so many years ago a gesture like Tebow's would have been lauded, or at least tolerated without comment. Those were the days when Christian faith was the norm in this country. And those days are, apparently, long gone. Now people have no problem with the orgy of materialism and crudity that professional (and increasingly, college) sports has become; they pay hefty ticket and cable prices to watch obscenely wealthy athletes engaging in violent, arrogant, and juvenile behavior on the field, while commercials aired during the event feature boorish men and barely-clad women promoting gluttony and alcohol abuse. But these same people find it offensive when a player kneels for a moment to acknowledge the God who created him.

If anything, sports--and all walks of life, really--need more Tim Tebows. We need more people of faith, whatever their church or denomination, to come out of the closet and not be afraid to "offend" others by openly praising and witnessing for the Lord. We must not let the forces of darkness drive the church underground and rob humanity of His light. Nor should we hide that light under a basket in order to avoid personal criticism or loss of friends or connections. We are taught that "if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God on this behalf." (1 Peter 4:16) This was precisely Tim Tebow's point when he Twittered, in response to the alleged mocking of him by other players and fans:

“Only fear the Lord and serve him faithfully with all your heart. For consider what great things he has done for you.”

Amen, Tim.

High Flight

Many of you are probably too young to remember when television programming ceased at 1 o'clock in the morning (on some stations, midnight), and didn't resume till 6 a.m. or later. That was way back in the mid-1960s before cable television, when there were only three broadcast networks rather than hundreds of 24-hour channels, and programming was (or at least seemed to be) dominated by local stations and their markets. People who worked at TV stations in those days actually quit work at night and went home to bed! A few minutes before the screen and sound went to plain static, you'd see a short film clip of a Boy Scout or soldier lowering the flag while the Star Spangled Banner played in the background. And in many local areas, one more thing: a sonorous voice reading the beautiful poem High Flight, as a sleek fighter aircraft banked and soared through the clouds. The few times I saw this as a lad, having stayed up late babysitting when my parents were out or snuck back to the living room to watch TV after everyone else had gone to bed (OK, I confess), I was always awestruck by it.

I hadn't seen or thought about that in many, many years, until I stumbled upon a copy of the film clip on YouTube the other night while looking for something else. And it touch me deeply again. Just reading the poem is a moving experience:

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

There is a sad, moving story behind the poem, too. It was written by John Gillespie Magee, Jr., who was born in Shanghai, China in 1922 to an American father and a British mother who worked as Anglican missionaries. His father came from a wealthy Pittsburgh family and his mother from Suffolk, England. John, Jr.'s early years were spent in China with his parents; from age 9 through 17 he attended school in England, graduating from the Rugby School in 1939. He earned a scholarship to Yale University—where his father was then a chaplain—in July 1940, but did not enroll, choosing instead to enlist in the Royal Canadian Air Force in October of that year, with England the the German Luftwaffe then being locked in the Battle of Britain. Shortly after being awarded his wings in June 1941 and being promoted to Pilot Officer, Magee was sent to Britain and to train on one of the most famous aircraft of WWII, the Supermarine Spitfire. It was while in that training that Magee wrote High Flight, while making his seventh flight in a Spitfire to an altitude of 33,000 feet. He completed the poem soon after landing and sent it home to his parents with a letter dated September 3rd, 1941.

Only three months later, while flying a Spitfire on a training mission, John was involved in a mid-air collision with another aircraft over the village of Roxholm, Lincolnshire, and died on impact with the ground. On his grave in England are inscribed the first and last lines from his poem: Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth -- Put out my hand and touched the Face of God. John had written several other beautiful poems during his brief military career, which he sent home to his parents.

Supermarine Spitfire

Today High Flight serves as the official poem of the Canadian Forces Air Command and the Royal Air Force, and it is required to be recited by memory by fourth class cadets (freshmen) at the United States Air Force Academy, where it is also depicted in its Field House. An excellent web site devoted to Magee and High Flight can be found here.

And now what you've all been waiting for: the High Flight film clip that closed the broadcasting day for television stations across America back in the 1960s! This film features the Lockheed F-104 Starfighter interceptor, one of the most beautiful aircraft ever produced (in my humble opinion), and one of my all-time favorites!



But wait--there's more! I didn't realize that later versions of High Flight were made with more advanced aircraft, also used at signoff until TV stations stopped signing off altogether. Here's one featuring another of my favorite aircraft, the Northrop F-5E/F Tiger -- simple and graceful!



Wouldn't it be wonderful if one could again watch television, go to the movies, or otherwise regularly see things in the media that acknowledged and honored God? These films, and the fact that they were once aired to all viewers every day as a matter of course, reflect a little bit of what our country used to be. And what of John Magee, Jr.? Do we still have young people like him who could fly a fast aircraft, defend our country, and write immortal poetry all at the same time? I'm sure there are more than a few, in our service academies and in the field. God bless and protect them, and bring forth their poetry in time to inspire the rest of us to soar as high as did Pilot Officer Magee.