Sermon: Stores and Scars.
Art Spiegelman was born in 1948 in Sweden to Polish Jews and Holocaust survivors, Vladek and Anja Spiegelman. During his youth, his mother occasionally talked about the war and about Auschwitz, but his father did not want him to know about it. It was too horrific a story to tell. And after Art’s mother committed suicide after struggling with depression and anxiety, and after Art’s father remarried, the story of his parents has brushed away and never spoken of.
As a young adult Art Spiegelman developed an interest and love for comics and began drawing professionally.
He became a cartoonist, editor, and key figure in an underground comix movement in the 1970s.
Art visited his aging father, and finally, he started to share his story from Auschwitz. Combined with extensive historical research, reading survivors’ accounts, and talking to surviving family members, Art presented his father’s story through a series of cartoon strips that were eventually made into the book: “Maus. A Survivor’s Tale.”
I have just recently read the book and was moved by the horrific story of the Holocaust and also mesmerized by the cartoon presentations of the different characters as animals:
Jews as mice, Germans as cats, Poles as pigs, Americans as dogs, British as fish, French as frogs, and Swedish as reindeers.
Maus ( German for mouse) became the first and so far, only graphic novel to win a Pulitzer Prize in 1992.
So, Maus is a story about a father’s story told by a son, who tries to understand his father, their relationship, and the history and horror that shaped his father and his family.
“Maus” has been a novel often read in Middle School & High School as part of the History Curriculum about the Holocaust. But now this fine book and this memory of Art Spiegelman’s father and his real and horrific experience through war and the holocaust has been banned in many school districts. Supporters of the ban claim this book supports a Critical Race Theory that is divisive and harmful.
This is a sad and dangerous take on history: how are we going to learn from history, if we do not know it? How are we going to change the patterns of a hateful, divisive, dangerous, racism, nationalism, or sexism, that truly have marked our past, if we do not accept and acknowledge our history for better and worse:: the Holocaust, segregation, and apartheid, the encampment of the Japanese, and, through our history of treating the native Americans?
History tells us how it was, it describes the horrific mindsets of war and racism, and it depicts how humans have betrayed humanity through times.
Even if it hurts, even if it is horrific, even if we think we are better now, we need to know our history and learn from it. So, we can say: never again.
Art Spiegelman shared the story of his father. He asked questions. He took the time to listen. He shared the misery, the love, the hatred, and the story was told.
How many of us know our father’s story? How many of us have taken the time to truly listen, ask questions, and share the hardship and the joys of our father’s story?
Maybe our father’s story is not as horrific as Art Spiegelman’s father’s: hopefully, our father’s story is less violent and sad. But still, there is a story to be told and to be listened to. As my good friend always says: “We all have a story.”
So, if you haven’t truly heard your father’s story, ask him to know. If your father is no longer among us, ask your family or dig into your family story and heritage. We should never ban stories to be told and history to be known. We should always celebrate stories and encourage them to embrace history for better and worse.
When we listen, we learn. Not only about a time long gone, but we learn about who we are: what shaped us, what marked us, and most importantly we are reminded never to forget and strive not to repeat mistakes, inhumanity, or hatred.
The story told in the Gospel today also teaches us a lesson. About empathy, humanity, mental illness, demonic curses, and forgiveness. It is about breaking free of what binds us: our illness, our stigma, our despair, and different ism: racism, sexism, nationalism, and dogmatism.
Has a naked person ever walked into our church? One Sunday morning, in the park across a church’s front door, a man sat on a bench completely naked. Nervously, the ushers asked the pastor what they should do about it, and he replied, “Nothing—unless he crosses the street. If he does, do not let him come inside!”
Well, Jesus broke that barrier down as he interacted with the naked shouting demon-proceeded man. The shouting naked man might not have been welcome in a dignified place of worship: a place that carries the name of the same Jesus Christ, who always met people in their humanity and naked form.
In Luke 8, we read about a naked man who has plagued the people with his unruly behavior. Although the people have tried to lock up the demon-possessed man “with chains and shackles,” he has always been able to overpower them. Unable to restrain him, the people have managed to push him away to the place where they feel that he belongs—on the very edge of society, amidst the tombs, out of sight, out of mind, as good as dead. They have not solved the problem, but they have succeeded in brushing it far enough aside to establish an uncertain peace.
When Jesus arrives, the man shouts: “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Highest God?” Jesus demands the evil spirits to enter a herd of pigs. The pigs rush down the bank and drown.
But instead of restoring order to the region, Jesus’ actions bring chaos. Because Jesus confronts them with their lack of empathy and faith. And they ask him to leave…..
Like the naked man we all have our stories and our scars. We are bound and shackled too by our personal history as sons and daughters of our fathers and mothers; we are bound and burdened by the history we share with our family and with our time; we might be bound by our fears, prejudices, our inherited truths which we need to confront and accept to change. We can not just push the problems out of sight and mind, we will need to deal with them. As we all must deal with our relations, private struggles, burdens, mental illnesses, or prejudices.
In the “Message” translation: 37-39 “Later, a great many people from the countryside got together and asked Jesus to leave—too much change, too fast, and they were scared. “
We too get scared of changes too fast and so hurtful and shameful. We too would rather hide the ugly parts of history than be confronted and hopefully changed.
“But Jesus turns to the man, now free from his burdens and demons, from his stories and scars, and says: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you!”
Count your blessings, show your gratitude and learn from your gifts and blessings to live a life of empathy, faith, and hope. Accepting your stories and scars, but trying to change, repent, and reform.
We learn from listening. We learn from listening and knowing our father’s history. We understand and grow knowing our common history with all its horrific details too. We grow, when we know, as individuals, as sons and daughters, as a society.
We always need to return and declare what God has done for us. We always need to return and give thanks for what we received.
Fathers, Forgiveness, and Faith.
History, humility, and humanity.
Change, compassion, and care.
All have been given to us and instilled in us – to make this world a better place. To never repeat the dark sad times of history, to never forget, but always learn from mistakes and history. When we know, we grow.
Only when we face our demons, when we accept our failures, inherited wrongs, accept our stories and scars, and honor history, we may be free from our shackles and chains.
And we will pray and sing
“O, take my hand, dear Father,
And lead You me,
So do You guide my footsteps
On life’s rough way. “
Amen.