I am writing these words during Chol HaMoed Sukkot. Normally, we do not write during Chol HaMoed except when there is a halakhic reason to do so. But I feel there is a kind of davar ha’aved here - not the loss of something material, but the danger of losing the opportunity to stop and think about what happened, and to recognize the kindness of Hashem while it is still fresh in our minds.
Perhaps the words of the Haggadah are especially fitting:
“כמה מעלות טובות למקום עלינו."
“How many kindnesses Hashem has done for us."
This is how we begin “Dayenu" on Seder night. We go through the story one step at a time, recognizing each kindness. Something very similar happened yesterday.
A Flydubai flight was on its way from Dubai to Tel Aviv when violence broke out in the cockpit as the Omani co-pilot stabbed the captain and tried to crash the plane . The captain was seriously injured, and the aircraft suddenly went into a steep descent, losing more than 14,000 feet in less than a minute. Despite his injuries, the captain managed to open the cockpit door. Passengers and crew rushed forward and helped subdue the attacker. Other Flydubai pilots who were travelling on the same flight then took over the controls, stabilized the aircraft and diverted it to Tabuk, Saudi Arabia, where it landed safely.
And when we look back at what happened, the words of “Dayenu" almost say themselves:
If the captain had been unable to open the cockpit door - Dayenu; if the passengers and crew had not responded so quickly - Dayenu; if they had not managed to subdue the attacker - Dayenu; if there had been no qualified pilots on board to take over the controls - Dayenu; if the aircraft could not have been stabilized - Dayenu; if they had not found a safe place to land - Dayenu; and if, after everything, the plane had not landed safely - Dayenu.
But each one of these things happened.
174 people came home.
When we stop and look back, we see that the rescue was not one single event. It was one thing after another, each one coming at the moment it was needed.
That is also part of recognizing a miracle, a nes. We do not simply say, “Baruch Hashem, the danger has passed." We look back and see how many things had to happen for those people to walk away safely.
Not one kindness, but one kindness after another, until they came home.
And this was not only the rescue of 174 people. We cannot know what might have happened had the incident, Heaven forbid, ended differently. September 11 taught the world that an attack involving an aircraft can have consequences far beyond the people on board. A disaster of this kind in the region in which we live could have affected many more people and changed the course of events far beyond that one flight.
This is not simply another news story to read and forget.
David HaMelech says in Tehillim:
“יָעֲלוּ שָׁמַיִם יֵרְדוּ תְהוֹמוֹת, נַפְשָׁם בְּרָעָה תִתְמוֹגָג... וַיִּצְעֲקוּ אֶל ה' בַּצַּר לָהֶם, וּמִמְּצוּקוֹתֵיהֶם יוֹצִיאֵם."
“They rise up to the heavens, they descend to the depths; their souls melt within them in distress... They cry out to Hashem in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distress."
And then:
“יוֹדוּ לַה' חַסְדּוֹ וְנִפְלְאוֹתָיו לִבְנֵי אָדָם."
“Let them give thanks to Hashem for His kindness, and for His wonders to mankind."
Chazal teach us about the four who are required to give thanks. When a person comes out of danger, he should stop and recognize the chesed that was done for him.
That thought is especially appropriate on Sukkot.
All year long, we try to create stability in our lives - a home, a livelihood, good health, and plans for the future. All of these things are important. The Torah expects a person to make an effort.
But hishtadlut is not bitachon.
We have to do what we can. But that does not mean that we control what will happen.
That is why, at this time of year, we leave our permanent homes and enter the sukkah:
“צא מדירת קבע ושב בדירת עראי."
“Leave your permanent dwelling and sit in a temporary dwelling."
The sukkah is not a fortress. It gives us a place to sit, but it does not give us the feeling that everything is under our control. Its roof is only schach, and through it we can see the sky.
Chazal have a machloket about the sukkot in which Bnei Yisrael lived in the wilderness. Rabbi Akiva says they were actual sukkot; Rabbi Eliezer says they were the Ananei HaKavod, the Clouds of Glory. Either way, the message is clear: a person does what he can, but his protection is ultimately in the hands of Hashem.
And that is what we saw yesterday.
The captain did what he could despite his injuries. Passengers and crew members came forward. Other pilots on board took over the controls. The aircraft was stabilized and brought safely to the ground.
We do our part. The outcome is in the hands of Hashem.
Perhaps that is why I felt this should be written דווקא now, during Chol HaMoed. In a few days, the news will move on and life will return to its routine. But we should not allow this moment to pass without stopping to say thank you.
On Yom Kippur, we stood before HaKadosh Baruch Hu and asked for life. Now, in the sukkah, we are reminded how much of life we simply take for granted.
Another tefillah. Another page of Gemara. Another meal with the family. Another morning when we open our eyes.
In Tehillim 27, which we say during these days, David HaMelech says:
“כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכָּה בְּיוֹם רָעָה."
“For He will conceal me in His sukkah on the day of trouble."
Yesterday, on that flight, there was suddenly a “day of trouble." 174 people were in the air, at a moment when they had no way of knowing how it would end. They did what they could - and, through the kindness of Hashem, they came home.
Perhaps this is what we take with us from that flight into the sukkah:
We do what we can, but we do not control the outcome.
We do not know what tomorrow will bring - but we know in Whose hands we are.
“כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכָּה בְּיוֹם רָעָה."
“For He will conceal me in His sukkah on the day of trouble."