Yet another aviation disaster in Indonesia. Yes, I say ‘another’ because while this week’s crash of Garuda flight GA-200 in Yogyakarta was horrific, it’s another in a long line of aviation mishaps for the country. Wednesday’s tragedy took 21 lives; as you know, five of them Australian. On New Year’s day an Adam Air flight went down, killing 102 people. In 2005 a dozen Indonesian airline accidents killed a combined 200 people. In fact The Australian newspaper reports that Indonesia suffers a major airline accident ever month, although, thankfully, not all of them claim lives.
Our hearts certainly go out to all the families involved, especially to those of the Australians killed: Morgan Mellish, Brice Steel, Mark Scott, Allison Sudradjat and Liz O'Neill. And our prayers must be with Cynthia Banham, the newspaper journalist who faces a lengthy recovery from severe burns and spinal injuries.
Tragedies like this are always reminders of life’s fragility. Just two months ago I was walking the same streets of Jakarta that have recently been flooded. And just two months ago I took that same Garuda flight from Jakarta to Yogyakarta. The situation reminds me that if there is an afterlife—and it’s my conviction that there is—then we should be prepared. You just never know your day.
The Yogyakarta tragedy reminds me of something else though—the inherent value of work.
Those in the helping professions can generally see the value of their work. At the end of the day doctors, teachers and missionaries can see that they’re helping people. But I’ve found that those in other trades occasionally find that process harder. A statistician crunching numbers on a computer, a builder bolting the struts of a carport, or a mechanic fixing a carburettor can all wonder if they’re work is really making a difference in the world.
Pilot error or mechanical failure are the possible causes of the Garuda crash. We won't know decisively for some time. It could come down to a single loose bolt somewhere. After Wednesday’s crash you can’t tell me that the mechanics in charge of tightening those bolts have meaningless jobs. Lives depend on them.
If you doubt whether your job has any significance, do two things: first, imagine your job doesn’t exist. Who would lose out? And second, trace your efforts to the end-user. Both questions lead us to people. Work is not just a means to make money—it’s an offering to humanity.
‘Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,’ Saint Paul says, ‘as working for the Lord, not for men…’ (Colossians 3:23-25). Work is a divine calling and excellence should be its standard. And that’s true whether you’re a doctor, a teacher, a pilot… or an airline mechanic.
