This is a repost of a revised poem I wrote two years ago after attending a Catholic funeral service with my husband held on Ash Wednesday. Since that experience, Ash Wednesday and Lent have reminded me of the Jews during the Holocaust. The image of the ashes drawn on foreheads reminds me of the ashes of those whose lives were cruelly taken from them. For me, ashes have always brought to mind the image of the Holocaust victims (partly, I think, because I was in a Holocaust play and though we used sand instead of ashes to represent the number of deaths, the visual image of salt being poured from a bowl represented their ashes, the dust to which they returned).
Another reason is because Ash Wednesday is the one day when Christians openly display an outward physical symbol of their faith for everyone to see. Just as the yellow star of David was worn by the Jews to show their faith (though under very different circumstances; they did not choose to wear them, but were instead forced to), we wear our crosses of ash to show to whom we belong and what we believe.
Like I said earlier I wrote this poem two years ago and I've since then changed a couple things about it. For example I had a line that said they wore them "proudly and without shame," but after further reading on the subject, I don't think this would have been true. They didn't choose to wear this outward symbol of faith and heritage. Being a non-Jew (which means I can never understand this) I always thought they might proudly wear them or display them (now) as witness to their history. I think it's much more complicated than that, and I think there are probably many differing opinions and personal connections to the yellow stars. Either way, their stars - in my mind when I watch Holocaust films or read books - are powerful symbols of their faith and heritage, one that might have been forced on them by oppressors, but can never be forgotten. The stars bear witness of their history, retelling their story each time one is displayed.
ashes
made into crosses.
fingerprints
traveling across smooth,
and wrinkled
foreheads.
we stand like mirrors
wearing our small signs
out into the dark world -
small lights
traveling into cold court rooms,
office buildings,
and classrooms.
they wore theirs on battlefields,
on streets,
and in camps -
yellow canvas patches,
stars shining on their dark clothes.
they used needles and thread
to sew them -
to sew them -
their cross to bear.
they were piled next to their
suitcases,
their shoes,
and their
ashes.
This is a photo from the Holocaust play I performed in college - I Never Saw Another Butterfly; my character, Raja collects the stars of the Terezin children...
Pouring salt - a visual representation of the lives lost in the Holocaust
It's interesting to me to mix the image of a cross with the star of David. I think of Chaim Potok's books and how the cross was more of a symbol of oppression for Jewish people. Pogroms, even the Holocaust, can in some way be contributed to the cross, to Christians blaming the Jews for Christ's death and punishing them. It's a heartbreaking connotation for the cross but it makes the juxtaposition of the two painful to me.
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree that it has been a symbol of oppression for them (unfortunately)...but I more connote the ashes with their heritage and background and with the outward symbol they were forced to wear juxtaposed with the symbol we choose to wear...just some thoughts! :)
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