A Wing and a Prayer

By Rev. Terry Davis 

Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist

Congregation on August 26, 2012

The year was 1943. The day was February 26 . . .  a little over 14 months since the attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii and the decision by President Roosevelt to declare war on Japan. A B-17 Flying Fortress bomber – a plane piloted by a man from Charlotte, North Carolina named Hugh Ashcraft and lovingly referred to by its crew as Southern Comfort – was heading to England after a mission in Germany.

True to the reputation of B-17s in those days, the 55,000-pound long-range aircraft managed to stay airborne . . . despite the fact that it had encountered heavy gunfire by Nazi antiaircraft forces . . . and despite the fact it had lost one of its four engines. One can only imagine the intense anxiety and anticipation of the pilot and crew as they made their way through the dangerous skies back to safety on the ground and in Allied territory.

Ashcraft, who was skillfully guiding the crippled Southern Comfort, turned to his crew on that seemingly-doomed return flight and said, ‘Those who want to, please pray.’ Whether it was the prayers of the pilot and his men, the solid construction of that Boeing bomber . . . or a little of both . . . the crew and craft managed to complete their journey and land safely at a British Royal Air Force base that day.

Ashcraft, whose famous flight made him a war hero and celebrity, left the armed services after World War II, as many of his fellow servicemen and women did. He went on to become president of a grocery store chain. And, as the passage of time can do, Ashcraft’s harrowing moment almost 70 years ago eventually became a tale of courage tucked away . . . tucked away in the annals of history . . . and tucked away, perhaps, in the memories of a generation whose members are now few.

I found this war story as I was researching the familiar quote, “A Wing and a Prayer,” which is the topic of my sermon today. Quotes of the Day, a website that contained many of the details I used in my narrative to you, says that Captain Hugh Ashcraft’s “cool-headed bravery and faith” was captured in a song written the same year as his amazing experience.

The lyrics to the chorus go like this:

Comin’ in on a wing and a prayer

Comin’ in on a wing and a prayer

Though there’s one motor gone, we still carry on

Comin’ in on a wing and a prayer

I didn’t know the origin of this idiom until now. And, having recently returned a few weeks’ ago from a vacation in Washington, DC – where Gail and I toured the deeply disturbing and profoundly moving Holocaust Memorial – I have been considering more carefully this phrase . . . and this notion of having hope and faith when there is little or nothing about a situation that gives reason for it.

Certainly Adolf Hitler’s horrific and incomprehensible genocide of six million Jewish men, women and children radically challenge our beliefs about human goodness . . . and, for me – quite honestly – radically challenge our cherished Unitarian Universalist principle that all human beings have inherent worth and dignity.

And, certainly, on a personal and everyday level, there are times when we find ourselves holding onto this notion of faith by a very thin thread. We are hoping that we may be wrong about a situation that has seemingly insurmountable odds. We’re hoping – by a wing and a prayer – that some sort of breakthrough takes place . . . that things turn out alright . . . that our worst fears are over and we can breathe easy again.

I believe that those times of uncertainty – whether they are tentative new beginnings, challenging passages smack in the middle of things, or heartbreaking endings – are times that can often call us to muster the thinnest of faith. I believe that we can and should approach these moments with cautious optimism . . . that we can and should bring our hope – however fragile – into play.

And, while we indeed have our preferences on the outcomes during these times of uncertainty . . . and you can bet we are doing all we can to influence the outcome . . . we can and should dare to have hope that all shall be well . . . perhaps in ways we don’t yet anticipate or understand.

In our Story Wisdom and in Karen’s reflection this morning, we heard examples of new beginnings that invite us to risk new behavior. These are times when indeed moving forward feels like stepping out on a wing and a prayer. “If in all of forever, I never endeavor to fly, I won’t know if I can,” said the bird in our children’s tale. “And, I won’t know if I can’t.”

Similarly, Karen’s brother risked the odds of failing when he let himself fall in love again and decided to pursue a second marriage – an event where the divorce rate goes from 50 percent the first time around to 67 percent for those couples on their second try.[1]  

So what makes us do it? What is the belief that leads us to take a chance, to put our trust in the impossible? The beautiful wing illustration featured on the cover of your Order of Service may have one answer. Created by Northwest Member Cathryn Dubow, if you look at the illustration closely, it contains an ancient prayer. Written within the colorful feathers, it reads, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

This is a prayer attributed to the late 14th century Christian Mystic Julian of Norwich. Julian was a religious recluse who lived in England during the time of the bubonic plague . . . a time when the Christian Church was preaching judgment and viewed the plague as a punishment from God.

By contrast, Julian’s own theology was universalist in nature. She believed in a loving God who wanted to save all people . . . a belief very much like that of the 18th century American Universalists from whom our own Unitarian Universalist faith tradition emerges.

At the age of 31, suffering from a severe illness and believing she was going to die, Julian suddenly experienced a series of intense visions of Jesus. Julian eventually recovered from her illness and wrote down her memories of these visions. Many years later, these writings became the major source of the book Sixteen Revelations of Divine Love, which is believed to be the first book written in the English language by a woman.[2]

The quote, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well” is one that Julian claimed to be said to her by God.[3] It reflects her radical theology at the time that God loves everyone equally and that we will all be taken care of, no matter what the circumstances.

In our own inclusive and liberal faith tradition, I believe that Julian’s understanding of God’s love can be our understanding of what it means to be spiritually and emotionally whole – that is, to live with hope, to have peace of mind, to practice compassion and forgiveness, and to see that life always offers us beauty . . . sometimes when we least expect it.

My guess is that I’m not alone in my desire to pursue spiritual, emotional and physical wholeness. I suspect that, like me, you have sought a Unitarian Universalist faith community because it nurtures in a unique way something important to you . . . something important to your sense of wholeness and well-being.

And, while the sometimes maddening thing about our Unitarian Universalist faith is that it seems to raise more questions than it answers, it’s a faith that I have embraced – and perhaps you have, too – because it enables us to live in those questions. It enables us to live with life’s ambiguities and gives us the courage to find and speak our own truth.

And, so, this notion of “a wing and prayer” is one that seems to be grounded in optimism, be it cautious or joyous. It’s a belief that we and those we love shall be well. It’s a conviction that despite our worst fears, uncertainties, and perhaps even horrors – peace can be ours now or in the unfolding of time.

To these understandings of “a wing and a prayer,” I would like to add one thing: to have faith, as this saying invites us to do, does not mean that we should refrain from taking action. In fact, it may very well be our actions that increase our faith . . . it may be our actions that assure us that things can change, that pain and injustice can be transformed.

I have had plenty of “wing and a prayer” moments in my own life . . . from pursuing recovery from a near-fatal eating disorder to cashing in my life savings to start my own company. In each instance, I have brought with me great trepidation, even as I hoped that, this time, things would work out.

As a faith community, I believe we owe it to ourselves and to our dream of creating a better world not to back down from taking action on a wing and a prayer. Combined with an honest understanding of our strengths and weaknesses, I believe that such action is the way to personal spiritual growth and liberation from fear.

As you and I begin our new journey at Northwest together, let’s ask ourselves, “What is calling me . . . what is calling this community . . . to step out on a wing and a prayer?” I believe that Northwest is poised to discover, articulate and act upon what it believes its gift to the wider world may be. To be willing to engage in this process of distilling what is most important to us . . . to commit to it and live it . . . gets to the very heart of what it means to be a faith community.

So what is Northwest to us? For many of you, I gather that Northwest is a place of refuge. And, how could it not be? It’s located in a beautiful wooded setting – isn’t the view from these windows spectacular? And the people here . . . well, I’ve heard that they’re pretty warm and friendly. For those of us wearied by a demanding and harsh world, our hearts and spirits need a place of comfort and a place of renewal. We need a place like Northwest.

However, as your new minister who believes it is partly her role to help you to find and live your mission, I think that Northwest is ready to be more than a place of refuge. I believe you are ready to be a community of action . . . a community that acts on its faith and brings a tangible gift to the world of hope and healing.

So what is our unique gift? What need can Northwest fill that other UU congregations – and other faith communities – cannot? I believe we may have some clues in our existing ministries. I believe we need look no further than where the passion in this community resides. What do we get excited about? What are we willing to throw ourselves into and struggle through, even as we encounter obstacles along the way? What is the thing that we believe will give us joy and, therefore, invites us to step out on a wing and prayer?

As we approach the end of August – and I wrap up second sermon on the topic of beginnings – my hope . . . and my belief . . . is that we are people who can fly. We can endeavor and soar high on a wing and prayer. We can pursue our wildest dreams for this place and this world –and expect that all manner of things shall be well.

So, I’m keeping the faith. I hope you are, too. May it be so. Amen.



[1]As quoted by Jennifer Baker, the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology, Springfield, Missouri (www.divorcerate.com, accessed August 25, 2012).

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_of_Norwich, accessed August 25, 2012.

 

[3] Ibid.