A Major Malfunction

While going through some old files recently, I stumbled onto a newspaper account about two astronauts who flew untethered in outer space on February 7, 1984. I had clipped and saved the story—tucked it into a file folder marked "Freedom"—but hadn't read it for nearly 17 years.

Pulling out the yellowed newsprint, I read the details with fascination. Frankly, I had forgotten that any of our American astronauts had dared to step away from their spaceship into outer space. But so they did—propelled by nothing but the jet power of 24 tiny thrusters built into the backpacks these brave men wore over their spacesuits.

Without lifelines, astronauts Bruce McCandless and Robert L. Stewart soared more than 300 feet from the safe confines of the space shuttle. Propelled by inertia at 17,500 miles per hour, the astronauts used hand controls to fly untethered through space. McCandless stayed out there for an hour and a half! "It may have been one small step for Neil Armstrong," he quipped later, "but it was a really big leap for me!"

What an incredible sense of freedom these astronauts must have experienced as they soared through outer space, unbound, unrestricted! The newspaper account continued with glowing reports. A reporter called the astronauts' feat "a rare glimpse of high technology at its most dramatic." "One of the space walkers said, "Hey, this is great. We sure have a nice flying machine here." Another astronaut at Mission Control said, "You've got a lot of envious people watching you. It looks like you're having a lot of fun."

Soon, though, another detail in the story caught my attention. The aircraft from which the astronauts disembarked for their untethered spacewalk was a space shuttle called Challenger. Less than two years after the space walk, on January 28, 1986, Challenger exploded into a ball of fire shortly after takeoff. Millions of American TV viewers will never forget the plumes of smoke billowing into the sky, the shocked faces of the watching audience, and the stunned voice of the Mission Control spokesman who said flatly, "Obviously a major malfunction."

Sometimes we chafe against the many things that "tether" us: rules and regulations, expectations of others, physical and financial limitations. In our desire to be free, we search for happiness much the way Solomon did in Ecclesiastes. If only we could learn enough information, earn enough money, attain enough fun—then we would feel free and fulfilled. So we tell ourselves.

But as Solomon learned, unless God is at the center of our lives, the pursuit of happiness is like grabbing after the wind. Our best-laid plans can blow up in our faces.

What caused the Challenger disaster? Investigations focused on defective O-rings and icy temperatures at the time of the launch. There was talk about sloppy management and political pressure that pushed NASA to move too quickly. Whatever the cause, Americans were left with a chilling reminder that even our most brilliant scientists make errors, and even our bravest explorers aren't invincible. Our space program continues to progress today—a little wiser and humbler after learning the painful lessons of Challenger.

We all have some major malfunctions in our lives. Will we let these painful lessons make us wiser, humbler, and more dependent on the grace of God? The only way to avert disaster is to heed the hard, healing truth of God. It's the truth that sets us free.