My Search for Survivors after Iranian Missile Impacts

Tiferet Yeshua Congregation

Tel Aviv

On Thursday, June 12^th, I was with our weekly volunteer team serving the homeless in south Tel Aviv until late. A few hours after returning home, there was an air raid siren at 3am. Israel had begun a preemptive strike to remove the nuclear threat from Iran. Then I received a text message notifying me that I need to immediately report to my army reserve unit.

In addition to pastoring our congregation, I serve in the IDF reserves as a large equipment operator, and I was called to be a part of the rescue teams in case of Iranian missile impacts in the Tel Aviv metropolis [population 4 million]. On Friday evening, Iran fired its first salvo of missiles, killing three and wounding dozens in Tel Aviv and nearby. War was hitting the citizens of my home city.

Iran launched over 500 missiles at Israel. They were much larger than the ones from Lebanon and Gaza over the last two years, and the 30 Iranian missiles that made it through our defensive system wreaked massive destruction. On Saturday, I spent the day helping clear rubble at the impact site in nearby Ramat Gan, where a number of our congregants live.

Serving daily on the “frontlines” in my city, my heart was first and foremost with my wife Anna and our children. On Saturday, when there was a major impact where we live, my heart fell. Anna was with our six children at home. For a while I couldn’t get a hold of her by phone! So I tried through army channels to verify exactly where the bomb had hit. I was so relieved that the strike wasn’t in my neighborhood, but when I got to the bomb site on Sunday morning, I wept for the people on that street who were wounded and killed. 

In spite of the shock and sorrow we had work to do. This was a major rescue operation and there were fears that up to 35 people were trapped under the rubble. I was shocked by the magnitude of the destruction at the impact site, and it was emotionally difficult to work in a destroyed neighborhood I know so well, in the city where I and others from our congregation live. It’s a miracle that no one I know personally from this neighborhood was wounded. Just from that one missile, ten people were killed, hundreds were wounded, and 20 large apartment buildings will need to be torn down because of the damage from the impact and shockwave.

All day Sunday I helped the rescue crews look for people under the rubble. I operated a large excavator which we used to remove concrete beams and slabs under which people might be trapped. At one point we found the body of an eight-year-old boy between wrecked cars thrown together by the great shockwave of the blast. That was tough!

This has been a very disorienting time: in an instant, I went from preparing myself mentally and spiritually for our Friday worship gathering, to suddenly finding myself in uniform, serving my country on the streets where I live and serve as pastor. Everything was mixed together: one moment clearing rubble and the next, trying to communicate with the congregational staff. Whenever I had a moment to stop and reflect, it was overwhelming to realize that this war zone was my home city; it’s where our congregation is, and these are areas we pray for regularly.

Those challenging twelve days of bombardment in June reminded us how much we love this city, and that it’s our calling as a congregation to show the love of God here.

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