A Life-Changing Moment

Wednesday December 10 2014

Ten years on from the devastating Boxing Day Tsunami, the Rev John Purves, who was the minister at St Andrews Scots Kirk in Sri Lanka, one of the worst-affected countries, reflects on the impact of the disaster.

Ten years is a long time. For anyone with an experience of the 2004 tsunami, it can seem like yesterday.

Travelling the coastal roads of Sri Lanka today, one might find it difficult to find evidence of the big wave. The beaches are as pristine as ever. The waters are as crystal clear. Natural growth is luxuriant. Tourists are back in great numbers. So what have been the lasting effects of that awesome, awful day?

This is not easily answered except to say that the greatest impact has been felt by those who lost their loved ones. That sadness, that sense of loss, that empty silence must always be there.

Only one person who died that day was known to me, a lovely young American woman of Sri Lankan parentage. She had returned to the island to share with others her love of the violin. Her Suzuki-method class of children had given their first performance at a Christmas concert. It has never resumed.

Many of our congregation were on the beach that day enjoying their Christmas break. The most harrowing experience, by my reckoning, was that of the parents of six children. One by one each family member was accounted for and gathered up onto the roof of their beach cottage, all except one, their six-year-old daughter.

The father set off alone along the beach in search of her. Hour after hour, he turned over bodies fearful of what he might find. As darkness approached, he was told that a child matching his daughter’s description had been seen at a nearby temple. It is difficult for any of us to understand his feelings when he found her there, sitting quite unperturbed talking with other survivors.

The tsunami turned all our lives upside down. Many holidaymakers were left with only their designer swimwear. They were fed, clothed and sheltered by local people, those who had seemed so poor by comparison at the start of the day.

Life was never the same for us at St Andrew’s. Along with everyone else, I was working all day, every day, procuring supplies, arranging transport, receiving donations, identifying needs, visiting the affected, assessing costs, deciding futures, counselling individuals, praying for wisdom and strength. Our congregational life began to benefit from a shared sense of purpose with those who were coming to us from the four corners of the globe to assist in the recovery.

One question remains with me unanswered. Because Boxing Day 2004 was a Sunday, we planned to go to the beach after our morning service. Had it been any other day of the week, the chances are that we would have been there already. And if we had been, we would have seen the water retreat – for that is what a tsunami does before it makes landfall. Many people went out further to see why, walking and running toward the, as yet, invisible wave.

Had I been on a beach that day, what would I have walked out with them or would some warning bell have sounded in my mind? It did ring for some. They were able to insist that their family and friends should get as far away as possible.

This ‘what if’ question is one I shall never be able to answer. It is part of the tsunami’s legacy to me. Yes, lessons were learned, changes have been made but in the heart and mind of everyone who was in some way involved in that fateful day a question of some kind remains. That might not be anything new…

Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?

Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb?

Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea

or walked in the recesses of the deep?

Tell me if you understand. (Job 30)

 

This is an abridged version of an article from December's Life and Work. Subscribe here.