(Homily given by Fr. Arnel Aquino SJ on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, at the Cenacle Retreat House.)
When I was in high school, I was sort of forced into playing marriage counselor to mom & dad. Kuya had gone to Manila for college. Jonathan was still in grade school. So, whenever mom & dad quarreled, priest wannabe took it upon himself to patch them up. I always felt anxious whenever I was around mom & dad. I could smell the sl whiff if something was wrong. So, I stayed in my room most of the time because ignorance was bliss. Whenever they came home, though, I became super sensitive to the sounds they’d make downstairs. Many times, I’d suddenly sit up because I thought I heard yelling again. But then, the next day, they were fine. I only thought I heard they yelled. But it must’ve been just a dog that barked, a chair that screeched against the floor, or a car that roared past the house. Until I left home for college, I continued hearing what I thought was yelling. Unfortunately, 2 out of 5 times, it was!
People with schizophrenia have it much harder. They hear voices physically, like you hear my voice now. And the voices are unmistakable from a dog, chair, or car. The voices are often male, repetitive, commanding, & nasty. “You, fat slob; you’re ugly; you’re garbage; useless. Everyone’s talking about you; they don’t want you here; they hate you; they’re planning to get rid of you.” That’s why many schizophrenics also develop paranoia. “Just end it all; go jump off a ledge. Pop all your pills in one go.” That’s why schizophrenia can also drive a person to suicide. But what I think is most chilling is when the voice says: “I’ll always be here; you can never run away from me; you can try but I’ll always come after you.” That’s why schizophrenic patients are trained to say, “No. No. Don’t.”
I figured, though, things that voices tell the schizophrenic, you & I also hear them once in a while in some measure, don’t you think? “You’re fat. You’re ugly. You’re a failure. They’re talking about you behind your back. They don’t like you. They want you out. You’re a bad person.” Thankfully, we know they’re merely negative thoughts, voiced in our own voice. We shake them off & not act on them. Problem is, sometimes, we only think we don’t act on our negative inner voices. When, in fact, we do. We make patol the voices (as the Assumptionista would say! Joke.) When we’re unaware that the voices are already taking charge, we transfigure into what’s called a reactive personality. Matalim na tayo magsalita, first response natin suspecha, reklamo, pintas. Madalas na tayong defensive, thinking that anyone who differs with us is out to prove us wrong. When we feel strongly against something or someone, kahit hindi fact-checked, we believe we’re absolutely right. (Kaya reactive personalities ang mga Marites!) In general, reactive people are difficult to live & work with because, well, they become the negative voice for people around them. See, that’s just the tragedy. Our negative voices say, “You’re not lovable. You’re no good.” Then, we’re roped in & prove them wrong. Then, we become reactive. Vicious cycle.
That’s why we all desperately need a download. We need to download Jesus’ voice into this gadget, our heads. And update it. Constantly. One way we can do this by going back to the Gospels, reading them prayerfully & contemplatively, imagining ourselves as part of the story, observing Jesus, what he says, how he says them, & why. The Lord’s voice there is unmistakable. In fact, Jesus assumes not just any voice, but a very particular voice: the voice of a shepherd, a good shepherd who loves what he does & whom he’s doing it for.
What a good shepherd says is completely opposite to what our negative voices would have us believe. Unlike a drill sergeant who rips into us to “make us stronger,” our shepherd strengthens us by pulling us together & giving us courage. Unlike a school marm who belts us so we learn our lesson, our shepherd teaches us the lesson we need to learn while he heals our pain; shearing us, not skinning us alive. Unlike a tiger parent who invalidates us to raise our esteem over the others, our shepherd prizes us by surrounding us with friends who love us. Finally, the shepherd doesn’t bark lofty standards of holiness for us to jump at to reach. Rather, he says, “Come, come, sheep. Let’s go to a better place. You & your friends. Come with me!”
“I’ll always be here,” the shepherd’s voice says. “You can never run away from me. You can try. But I will always come after you.” To him we can say, “Yes. Yes. Do.”
image from kidshelpline.com.au