Never Assume Someone Is Beyond Saving

Brent Pollard

Never assume someone is beyond saving.

The Deadliest Single-Aircraft Accident in History

On August 12, 1985, on the eve of Japan’s Obon holiday—when millions travel to their hometowns to honor departed loved ones—524 people, many of them families, boarded Japan Airlines Flight 123 from Tokyo’s Haneda Airport bound for Osaka. Seven years earlier, an improper structural repair to the aircraft’s rear pressure bulkhead had unknowingly planted the seeds of disaster. After more than 12,000 pressurization cycles, the weakened bulkhead failed just 12 minutes into the flight at an altitude of 24,000 feet. The aircraft’s vertical stabilizer tore away, all four hydraulic systems were destroyed, and the pilots had almost no means of controlling the airplane.

For the next 32 minutes, the crew fought to keep Flight 123 airborne as it oscillated in a violent Dutch roll while repeatedly climbing and diving in what aviators call a phugoid cycle. The aircraft lurched through the sky in a terrifying, three-dimensional motion that made it nearly impossible to maintain a steady heading. At 6:56 PM, it slammed into Mount Osutaka in Gunma Prefecture. Only four people survived. To this day, Flight 123 remains the deadliest single-aircraft accident in aviation history.

At first glance, this sounds like nothing more than another aviation disaster. It wasn’t. It is also a story about what can happen when people conclude there is no one left to rescue.

A Tragedy That Hits Close to Home

This tragedy also strikes an oddly personal note for me. Mount Osutaka lies in Gunma Prefecture, the birthplace of my late Aunt Maki Mitchell (née Iishi). Her hometown is only about sixty-six miles from the crash site. Since she married a U.S. Air Force airman stationed in Japan, other parts of this story resonate personally as well.

When Rescuers Concluded No One Was Left to Rescue

Survivors of the Flight 123 crash were seated in the back, as the front absorbed most of the impact with the mountain, acting as a crumple zone that reduced G-forces at the rear. One survivor was off-duty stewardess Yumi Ochiai, who noted that there were more survivors initially. Some believe that additional lives were lost because the JSDF helicopter reported seeing no signs of life from the air, reducing the perceived urgency of the rescue. The principal rescue force spent the night approximately thirty-nine miles from the crash site and did not reach the wreckage until daylight.

The tragedy worsened as the U.S. Air Force, based in Western Tokyo’s Tama Area, monitored the doomed flight on radar. Unaware of the damage, they offered their 11,000-foot runway for a landing. After the crash, a C-130 located the wreckage in 20 minutes and, at 7:17 PM, informed Japanese authorities and Yokota, triggering the deployment of a rescue helicopter. By 8:30 PM, a Marine helicopter arrived to lower two pararescuemen. The crew searched for a drop site with searchlights. At 9:15 PM, Japanese authorities claimed full jurisdiction over the incident, and at 9:20 PM, U.S. personnel were ordered to leave despite their willingness to assist.

Spiritually, we can make the same mistake by looking at someone’s life and concluding there is no one left to rescue.

Waving in the Darkness

Meanwhile, Yumi Ochiai lay on the ground. She had heard the helicopters and could see the probing lights. Yet she was too pained to yell loudly, so she waved her hand, hoping to attract their attention. Other survivors called out to the lights in the sky above, all in vain. The helicopter hovered over the canopy, and the engine noise kept U.S. personnel from hearing their cries. Personally, I cannot imagine what the poor souls lying on the mountain below must have thought when they were suddenly left in darkness again.

Imagine waving with what little strength you have left while those sent to help cannot see you. There are people around us who are doing the spiritual equivalent every day.

As Long as There Is Breath, There Is Hope

Eight-year-old survivor Mikiko Yoshizaki and her mother, 34-year-old Hiroko Yoshizaki, took turns yelling at each other to stay awake during the 14 hours they waited for rescuers. Sadly, Hiroko’s husband and two other children seated beside them had perished in the crash. Twelve-year-old Keiko Kawakami spoke to her father and sister in the wreckage before they finally grew cold and quiet in the early morning.

As long as there was breath in their lungs, there was hope. As long as a sinner is alive, there is hope.

The Great Physician Never Gives Up on a Soul

Jesus never assumed anyone was beyond saving. He sought tax collectors, prostitutes, Samaritans, thieves, and even the persecutor Saul of Tarsus. While others saw hopeless cases, our Lord saw souls worth rescuing. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19.10).

The heartbreaking part is that this may not have been inevitable. A Japanese physician whose identity remained anonymous said that dozens of victims did not suffer fatal internal trauma from the impact itself. They died from hypovolemic shock (severe blood loss) and extreme hypothermia caused by the cold, damp mountain air at 5,135 feet. He said that if rescuers had arrived only ten hours earlier, they could have saved more lives.

Let us not end with the thoughts of one physician, but the teachings of the Great Physician.

Seek the Lost and Leave the Results to God

Every congregation has someone others have quietly given up on.

Every family has someone everyone assumes will never change.

Every community has people whose lives appear beyond repair.

Yet as long as there is breath, there is hope. As long as a sinner lives, the gospel still has work to do.

Christians have never been commissioned to decide who is salvageable. We have been commanded to seek the lost (Luke 15.4ff), proclaim the gospel (Matthew 28.19–20), and leave the results to God (1 Corinthians 3.6; Isaiah 55.11).

Never assume someone is beyond saving.