Tsunami: The Jewish Response

As Jews we seek guidance from the Torah in trying to make sense of the events around us. So as we struggle to come to terms with the greatest natural disaster in modern history - perhaps even since the Flood - it behooves us to look into the weekly parasha for spiritual direction.

And indeed we do not have to look far. In Chapter 9, Verse 10 we read that Pharaoh’s daughter called him Moshe, “for I drew him from the water”.

The Midrash notes that Moses was given many names by a whole variety of people. To name the two apparently most important: His father called him Chaver, while his mother called him Yekutiel, Yet the name which stuck, and the one by which G-d chose to call him was the name given to him by Pharaoh’s daughter, Moshe. Why?

Says the Midrash: From here we learn the reward of those who do kindness to others. Pharaoh’s daughter felt deeply for the anonymous child she saw floating in the Nile and she went beyond herself to save him. Her hand wasn’t long enough, so she stretched it beyond its limits, further than its natural capacity, in order to save Moses (see Rashi). In recognition of her heroic effort, it was the name that Pharaoh’s daughter gave that remained with the greatest prophet, leader and teacher that the world has ever seen.

We puny mortals cannot comprehend why G-d does what he does. When confronted with suffering, even Moses can’t understand and cries out to G-d, “Why have You acted evilly against this people!”

However there is something far more important than our understanding and comprehension – our actions! From Pharaoh’s daughter we learn that the correct response to tragedy is not to understand it, but to feel it to the extent that we do something about it.

To further confirm this, the Siporno notes that the literal translation of Moses’ name is not the passive, “He was drawn”, but the active “I drew him”. He explains: a person is not known by what happens to him, but by the events that he puts in train. Moses learnt from his saviour and when he saw suffering he too felt the pain and chose to do something about it.

Thank G-d, there are Jews in the very thick of the rescue efforts (continue reading for Rabbi Wilhelm’s extraordinarily moving article.) We may not be able to do what our brothers and sisters are doing in Thailand and other places, but it behooves us to do what we can: to feel the pain and financially assist; to thank G-d for the rescue of those who were saved; and finally to stand in awe and humility of He Who totally transcends us.

I know that there are many organizations that are fundraising at this time. However if you wish to be part of the extraordinary work being carried out by Chabad of Thailand, please forward your cheque to the synagogue office. Be sure to mark the envelope Tsunami Relief c/o South Head Synagogue, 662 Old South Head Road, Rose Bay, 2029 but make the cheque out to South Head Synagogue. You can also donate directly online by going to this page.

Faith in the Path of the Tsunami

By Rabbi Nechemia Wilhelm, reporting from Phuket, Thailand

Ten minutes after the disaster hit the news, my phone started ringing. It's been ringing ever since, 24 hours a day. Husbands looking for wives. Mothers looking for daughters. Friends looking for their traveling companions.

As one of the Chabad emissaries living in Southeast Asia, I was dispatched that very night to the hardest hit areas. My mission: to aid with the search and rescue efforts, particularly in regards to the thousands of missing Israelis and other Jewish travelers. Yakov Dvir, from the Israeli Consul in Thailand, as well as Israeli Foreign Minister Silvan Shalom, put in the urgent request to Rabbi Yosef Chaim Kantor, the director of Chabad activities in Thailand, that Chabad step in to help. All of us -- the six Chabad rabbis and our families and the twelve rabbinical students living in Thailand -- immediately moved into 24-hour mode, fielding calls, compiling lists, and offering aid and comfort to the survivors.

When I arrived in Phuket the bloated bodies still lined the streets. I had hundreds of names on my lists, with new ones being added every hour. For three days now I have been making my rounds of the morgues, hospitals and makeshift shelters, trying to match faces and fates to the names in my lists.

For the dazed survivors I arrange food, clothing, medical care and transportation back home. For the dead, I have the unfortunate task of helping the ZAKA (Disaster Victims Identification) volunteers who've flown in from Israel make the identification, arrange for a proper Jewish burial, and get the news to loved ones keeping vigil by the phone. But in a place where unfortunately so many will be thrown together in mass graves, there is some sense of relief and closure knowing that the victim has been found and will receive a Jewish burial. From the moment a Jewish body is identified, it is not left alone for a minute. This is the last respect and love we can give to our brothers and sisters.

Yesterday we found Mattan. We searched for him for two days. The 11-month-old boy was torn from his mother's arms as they played on the beach. Both she and her husband survived the tsunami, but Mattan was nowhere to be seen. On Tuesday morning, Steve and Sylvia Nesima found their son. He was in the makeshift morgue along with the hundreds of other children who had no chance against the monstrous waves. Mattan was flown to Bangkok where the Chabad emissaries took turns sitting with him, around the clock, until they put his small body on the El Al plane to Israel, the Holy Land, the only appropriate place where such purity and innocence can be buried.

Our three Chabad houses in Bangkok, Chiang Mai and Ko Samui have been transformed into crisis centers for counseling, clothing, communication, food, money, transportation and shelter. We have opened our phone lines for free calls to assuage the fear of parents who will not rest until they hear their son or daughter's voice on the other end. Our free email service has enabled hundreds to contact worried loved ones and assure them of their safety.

The survivors come to us shaken, hungry and overwhelmed. They need to go home and be with their family. Until that is possible, it is our responsibility to provide them with that love, comfort and safety while they are still here. For some that means a warm meal, others need money and arrangements for necessary travel documents, some a hug or shoulder to cry on, and others a place to sleep.

The Thai government has been incredibly helpful and organized. Now that people have been able to travel here to help, we have been joined by dozens of volunteers who've flown in from Israel. We're all working together, round the clock. No one has yet digested the magnitude of what has happened. Right now, there's too much to do to even pause for moment to contemplate it.

The unity amongst all the workers is incredible. I was moved to tears when I saw the Israeli media and news reporters join us to help locate and identify the injured and dead. They were no longer looking at the situation through the camera, but through their tear-filled eyes, as they worked alongside the rabbis, government officials and volunteers.

On a larger scale, this disaster has joined every race, creed and religion together. There are no divisions in suffering. There are no barriers. Rich, poor, young, old, male, female, were all the same in the eyes of the waves. And now, once again are all the same when it comes to offering aid, support and love.

What keeps us going are the miracles that are sprinkled throughout the horror. Today a 20-day-old baby was found alive, floating upon a mattress in the water. A one-year-old who was torn from his mother’s arms was miraculously recovered by his nanny, seconds before he was submerged in water. A Jewish family of six were scheduled to fly to Ko Phi Phi, the hardest hit of the islands; we feared the worst for then, until we learned that they had missed their flight and were sitting on the runway bemoaning their ruined vacation when the news broke.

Today, when I visited the hospital, an Israeli woman called me over and started crying when she told me her story. She had been traveling by boat with another 41 Israelis. They had just docked at Ko Phi Phi when the waves began to hit. The group ran as fast as they could, but could not outrun the rushing water. They were immediately swept in its path along with debris, trees and cars. This woman was sure her life was over and without time to think, suddenly found herself screaming to others to join her in saying the "Shema" out loud. With all the last ounce of strength in her body she cried out the words of the most foundational prayer of the Jewish people, our acknowledgement of our Creator and His oneness. And as she finished the verse, she suddenly felt a log come up from under her feet, keeping her head above water so that she could breathe. Then, as she floated along, she looked up at the heavens and saw a rope come down from the sky. The rope had been thrown from her boat, where other survivors had gathered. They pulled her aboard and managed to save 40 of the group. Unfortunately, there are two who are still unaccounted for.

It is these miracles that give me hope and remind me of my purpose and my mission. There are no words to describe the horror that has happened, and certainly no understandable explanations or reasons for its occurrence. But we must believe that though we can’t make sense of it, this, like everything we experience, it is part of a larger picture that we currently don’t see. More importantly, we must use this opportunity to focus on our ability to overcome, to help others, and to rebuild. Every living, breathing person who survived this not only has to live his or her life, but must live for those who were not able to survive.

And we must remember that just as instantaneously as utter destruction struck, so too in a split second we can be redeemed, we can start anew, we can have complete peace, love and goodness.

I've seen more the pain and suffering in the last few days than I've seen in all my 32 years. But I have also been privileged to witness compassion and faith of a magnitude that I never imagined existed. I have watched as people from different cultures, faiths, countries and mentalities join together to help another. For the G-dly soul, hidden deep within, often shines forth precisely when externally there is nothing to depend on. When physicality is destroyed, the only thing left is spirituality, and that is now what is apparent throughout this annihilated area.

So, for now, I continue to help rescue and identify the victims, working along with representatives from throughout the world here to do the same. We still are hoping to find more survivors, to provide the injured with all their needs, and make possible for those who were not so fortunate to be brought to their families for a proper burial.

Thanks to everyone’s unbelievable dedication and work, we have made much headway. From an initial list of 2,000 missing Jews, only 17 remain unaccounted for. May G-d bless us to continue to be successful in our work, and may this disaster be the last we know of pain and suffering and the beginning of the true ushering in of goodness and redemption.