Less than a week ago, I was looking out of a 12th-story window of a hotel near Los Angeles International Airport, watching with horror as flames and smoke began to consume the hillsides of the Pacific Palisades. Our staff was hosting a regional professional development conference, with seminars on professional skill-building including, of all things, crisis communications. Once the fires started, we quickly pulled together the relevant staff and began the work that federations across the country are built for — coordinating Jewish community response, providing critical services and raising funds to help those in need. 

While it will be months before the true damage is understood, the devastation caused by the multiple simultaneous wildfires is utterly catastrophic and unprecedented. Over 250,000 people are displaced and over 5,000 buildings — including whole neighborhoods — are destroyed. We lost Pasadena Jewish Temple and Center and B’nai Simcha Jewish Community Preschool. 

Congregants search through the remains of Pasadena Jewish Temple & Center, which served Pasadena for over 100 years and was destroyed in the Eaton Fire, on Jan. 11, 2025 in Pasadena, Calif. Mario Tama/Getty Images

Amid the carnage, we heard from hundreds of people hosting displaced families. We know of synagogues that have adopted each other for Shabbat services. We are hearing amazing stories of volunteers arranging clothing swaps and food delivery. The wave of destruction we continue to witness is being met with an equal wave of chesed, or loving-kindness. 

I received a phone call two nights ago from the former president of Congregation Beth Israel of Gulfport, Miss. In 2005, I had the honor to serve as their rabbi in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. For two years, he and I worked closely together to rebuild the community. During that time, Jews around the world donated funds and came to Gulfport to volunteer and rebuild. In our conversation, he told me that he had felt so supported by Jews he never met, he wanted to return the favor. 

In a similar conversation, Doron Almog, Chairman of the Executive of The Jewish Agency for Israel, said that his agency and its resources are standing by to assist us in our time of need just as we have helped them since Oct. 7. 

“You are not alone,” Almog said. 

What is it about our people that makes us so adept at responding to a crisis? There’s something special about the Jewish soul that compels us to always help our neighbors in need. 

I believe our history and our values animate our social consciousness. Our history is filled with tragedy and resiliency. Time and again, when we were pushed from country to country, the global Jewish community was there to help. We might not know each other’s names, but we know each other’s souls. We put our ancient values in action to help us face trauma with courage and hope. 

Chozek, or strength: From our earliest texts until today, strength is in the heart of our people. God rescues the Israelites from Egypt “with a strong arm.” Moses tells Joshua to “Have strength and courage.” When we finish reading a book of Torah we say, “From strength to strength.” Knowing how hard life can be, we know how strong we must be. When the world is at its darkest, we find light. When finding ourselves amidst a cataclysm, we summon our abiding and ancient inner strength to persevere. 

Kehilla, or community: The ancient sage Hillel famously said, “Do not separate yourself from the community” (Ethics of the Fathers 2:4). Our sense of self always extends to others in our lives, including Jews of all backgrounds. I’ve met plenty of Jews who are ambivalent about God, but not about other Jews. Few groups in this world drop everything to help each other evade harm’s way, but our community does time and time again. We also extend this value to non-Jews, often investing millions of dollars to improve our cities. 

Our shared historic values of strength and community will lead us through this crisis. 

Just as they always have. So they always will.

Rabbi Noah Farkas is the president and CEO of the Jewish Federation Los Angeles.