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On Eagles' Wings

by Tom Jones 

It’s been a regular happening on the Florida Space Coast for the past thirty years. At Cape Canaveral’s Kennedy Space Center this Sunday, Feb. 7, the 130th shuttle crew will strap into the Space Transportation System (STS) and rumble into orbit. On this trip to the International Space Station, it will be the crew of STS-130: Robert Behnken, Kathryn Hire, Nicholas Patrick, Stephen Robinson, Terry Virts, and George Zamka. Their ship will be the shuttle orbiter, Endeavour.

Nearly sixteen years ago, Endeavour was my ship, as I prepared to depart Earth with the other five members of the STS-59 crew. Our mission was to map the changing surface of our home planet with an advanced imaging radar, the Space Radar Laboratory. In the predawn darkness just two days before our scheduled liftoff, we emerged from the NASA crew quarters (our home for a week in medical isolation; even our children were off-limits), piled into two convertibles, and drove to the Beach House. The retreat was a ramshackle 1950s-era bungalow straddling the dunes, sole survivor of the frenzied spaceport construction of the Sixties. “Tastefully” decorated with government-issue furniture, it served then (as it does today) as a conference center and private haven for astronauts and their spouses in the days immediately before launch.

Space Shuttle Endeavour and its Space Radar Laboratory soar over Sri Lanka on STS-59, April 1994 (NASA).

The sun’s burnt orange disk had just emerged from the gentle Atlantic swells when our guests arrived, spilling onto the sand from a NASA bus. Each crewmember could invite five guests, including spouse, family members and friends. Liz and I received exuberant hugs from our mothers, and my brothers, Ken and Dave. The astronauts continued with introductions as we turned to breakfast burritos, three kinds of barbecue, and even a beer or two (despite the early hour, it was dinner-time for my half of the crew, assigned to work the night shift in orbit). From the oceanfront deck, I made sure none of my family missed the view of Endeavour, looming above the sandy thickets a scant two miles inland.

After our meal, our commander, Air Force colonel and test pilot Sid Gutierrez, invited the six families onto the beach for a prayer. Astronauts, their loved ones and friends gathered in a circle, relaxed by the gentle hiss of the surf a few yards away. Father Tom Bevan, who in Baltimore thirty years earlier had trained me as an altar boy, and later officiated at our wedding, led us all in reflection on the coming voyage.

Bathed in the warmth of the morning sun, we listened as Father Tom reminded us how God had, out of nothingness, formed the universe, our planet, its oceans and continents. Just two mornings hence, we would leave this Earth on that rocket poised just over the dunes, and gaze down at His handiwork in a new way.

We were not just detached explorers of an ancient, static universe, Father Tom noted, but active participants in a Creation that continually renews itself. I looked past the priest’s sunlit face, absorbing the sight of brown pelicans skimming the surf, and beneath their wings, a surging ocean teeming with life. Gathered around me were my wife, my mother, my brothers, and the closest relatives of my crewmates. These families were evidence of the ongoing vigor of birth, of life, of Creation and Christ’s redeeming love.

Our impending journey represented the leading edge of humanity’s expansion into the cosmos. Hands joined, we thanked God for our families and this opportunity, and prayed for a successful voyage and a safe return. Father Tom’s quiet, inspiring words on the beach left me with an enveloping sense of peace, one that carried me through the difficult parting with our families. The tears I saw in my mother’s eyes were partly from happiness for me, partly from her natural worry about when – and whether – she might see me again. With prayer, some of that worry dropped from my shoulders and hers. My last few days at crew quarters were blessed with a spiritual calm. I would rely on that divine strength through the many challenges of launch and our mission to planet Earth.

Shuttle crews still meet their families at the Beach House. (STS-130 is the first of the final five shuttle missions planned by NASA.) I am sure many astronauts still pray, asking for a successful mission, naturally, but also for the added strength of Spirit, too. When called on by today’s space travelers, He is always there, just as He was for my crewmates and family.

“They that hope in the Lord will renew their strength, they will soar as with eagles' wings.” – Isaiah 40:31.

Godspeed the crew of Endeavour, and may the Lord return them safely to their families.

Tom Jones is a scientist, speaker, author, and four-time shuttle astronaut. He wrote about the spiritual element of spaceflight in Sky Walking: An Astronaut’s Memoir. (See www.AstronautTomJones.com)

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(The views expressed in this column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the positions of Headline Bistro or the Knights of Columbus.)