Saved By Shabbat? (Or Not)

Posted on 03/24/2014 by Gila Rose in Beliefs and Practices

Well, I’m behind the times, as usual. (I'd make an awful breaking news reporter.) Even though this story might be old news, I’m still feeling the need to virtually pen my thoughts. So here goes.

Perhaps you, like me, have been obsessively following this Malaysian plane story. I mean, how do you lose a plane? Where is the plane, people???? Where is it??? It’s a tragic story—even though we don’t know the ending yet, there is no way that it will be anything other than devastating.

Early on, a story came out about a non-observant Jewish traveler who missed the flight. And here’s the kicker—he missed it because his observant travel agent refused to book him, a fellow Jew, to fly on Shabbat. Mr. Agent told the Mr. Traveler that he would not book the flight; Mr. Traveler could book it himself if he wanted. Mr. Traveler said, Eh, you know, it doesn’t really matter. Get me on a different flight. And so he missed the flight, which saved his life.

Naturally, for a certain subset of people, this turned into “SHABBOS SAVED HIM! He didn’t fly on Shabbos and now he’s alive! It’s a miracle!”

Yes, Mr. Traveler is alive. He should be grateful. He should thank God. Perhaps he should even say the “gomel” blessing, recited upon surviving life-threatening situations. He could ponder this “second chance” and perhaps, if he is so inclined, think about how he will improve himself, after coming so close to death.

But I’m anti the whole “Shabbos saved him” approach to life. Why?

You have to be consistent. If you say Shabbat saved him, because he didn’t fly, then do you believe that Jews who were on that flight, who did violate the Sabbath and fly on that day, deserved to die? This reminds me of 9/11, which occurred during the week of saying “selichot,” extra-lengthy prayers. A pious woman I worked with confided, “There were so many Jewish men who were late to work that day because they were at shul saying selichot!” Another variation of “Shabbos saved him!” What I thought at the time: And the men who didn’t go to shul that day and got to work on time? Did they deserve to perish? Or—even better, if you’re going with this approach—what about the men who prayed at the super-early service, so they could say selichot AND get to work on time? Did THEY deserve to die? Don’t use the “Shabbat saved me” approach if you’re not willing to fully commit.
Shabbat is not a talisman. It is not a lucky charm that protects us from bad. If you are Shabbat-observant, you do it because God said, “And you should rest on the 7^th day.” There are many benefits to this, of course—a day to unplug, spend quality time with family, reconnect, etc., etc. But the reason we keep Shabbat is because it is a mitzvah to keep Shabbat, not because of “If we keep X, we’ll get Y.” Thinking of Shabbat (and mitzvot in general) as a proverbial rabbit’s foot cheapens the whole concept of Torah observance.
Try not to be so arrogant, will ya? It is presumptuous to assume causality, to say, “Oh, this is the reason why God did this and this.” God saved Mr. Traveler, this is for certain. Why was this man saved, when others were chosen to perish? That is not for us to answer. Unless God is speaking directly into your ear, we don’t know why God does what He (or She) does. We can learn from God’s actions, take them to heart, change our ways, but presuming to know why is arrogant to the nth degree.

So, I am glad for this man and his family that he was spared the fate of the other passengers aboard flight MH370. But I will not presume to give a reason why. And in the meantime, I will continue to pray for the passengers and their grieving families.