FROM MY TONGUE. I was a listener, and then all of a sudden, I seek for it. My month-long deep cough culminated when a high fever got along with it. Some unlistened “parts” of me weren’t able to prevent me the burning enthusiasm from relating with patients on the very first day of the hospital ministry despite the struggling physical disposition. For when I dealt with the patients, I could not feel the fever and cough; unknowingly they are temporarily hidden by my eagerness to carry out the ministry. It was only when I settled myself down and dropped my energy level that such illnesses surfaced back.
The next day, I just found myself on one of the beds of the private rooms I’ll be visiting in the hospital for the rest of the month. Indeed, a unique and “something-to-reflect-upon” start! So, what did it mean then? It was something from the Voice that whispered to me and opened my eyes so that I may realize that, “Jun, it was no longer a virtue you’re doing. Yes, you have listened to patients but it was still unjust for that suppressed “craving-for-rest” part of you to continue to suffer within you…” Indeed, He opened my eyes! Yes, physically I really have to rest…be treated…regain the energy good enough to sustain the gloomy atmosphere and suffering hearts. I have to rest awhile…mission needs it! Yet, there was something deeper that God wanted to remind me then. For I wanted to boast to my fellows that I had interviewed 9 patients on the very first day! I just didn’t know that in the midst of such success, fragile feelings were trespassed, a fragile feeling of an afflicted father was trespassed; I was just so unreflective and insensitive. I just rushed, talked and talked and became so functional. “You have to be a patient first Jun in order to deal with them”…as Christ became food with His people. My GY buddies were not admitted to the hospital like me that day, but they were still successful at the end of the ministry. Why? Because they too, in their part, had been “sick” in their own ways that they too were able to share the hurts with the patients.
Being hospitalized was not new to me. In fact, I used to stay in several hospitals for several months when I was a kid due to asthma. But it was on this recent experience that I truly appreciated the more profound value of listening. For as a patient, a broken spirit really begged to look for a listening ear. I just couldn’t totally grasp why I had a lot of stories to tell; and in effect, the student doctors and nurses, visiting friends, and my BEC buddies were my listening ears that time. Patients do really have a lot of histories to tell and unfold; I realized then that I really, really have to listen when it’ll be my time to listen as soon as I get healed and get back to the ministry. I was with them and there I deeply know what it felt to be spent with attentive ear. Yes, though I sacrificed 4 listening days, but it was all worth it!
THEN, TO MY EARS. A more compassionate heart flowed from every tear. Empathy was so close between me and a suffering mother, a sorrowful husband, and a troubled daughter. Pray-overs and words of challenge were initiated. And wasn’t it so humbling to realize that after all the pride my being a seminarian had to boast; only my ears remained?! Insights, reflections, comments, life stories, doubts, encouragement, struggles, anger, beliefs, and biases – they put me up and low. They put me high. Words of encouragement and welcoming smiles were so consoling. But they also put me down. I could have answered their questions and doubts; I could have consoled them with colorful words of encouragement; I could have defended the Catholic faith…but my tongue turned numb…I just couldn’t help but listen. Wasn’t that consoling enough already? I believe so. For in a while, I knew they would calm themselves down, and they did! It was exhausting…to receive crying hearts and brimming anger…it was energy-draining, but in the end, it was all worth it! For every painful energy received was offered to the Lord at the end of every day, asking for the grace to transform such cries into hope, peace, and healing.
INTO MY HEART. Deeply, I sensed that it will never be that easy… and it was indeed not that easy. Every patient has his/her story. And every story slowly shoveled the soil in me. Treasures of unbroken diamonds and jewels were found to my delight, but on the other hand, broken clay jars and scattered antique fragments were slowly surfacing well enough for diggers to remove from soil, examine and further study. Simply because they were on the same pile that they have to remove even the broken ones? Why can’t they just get the jewels?! First cries, immediate reactions. Even on the first day, past hurts were already triggered. The image of tough “sunog-baga” image of patients reminded me of past persons who had hurt the small, shy, harmless, peaceful kid. And even on the very first day of duty since my absence was met with unexpected yet familiar faces. “Flat nose”, “bad smell”, “still using stroller like an elementary kid”, etc. – jeers from high school rich and classy classmates were unexpectedly brought back to the senses when in 2 high-rate private rooms, I felt I was rejected and not listened. It was really so unexpected, after all the eagerness I had within. I felt I was surprisingly punched and knocked out. Past “mummied” hurts were re-awakened. Authority hang-up was so dominant and enraging. It got me so down with my esteem. And so, human tendency led me to evade, with bias, the next room, and shifted towards those rooms where I got at home with: from the poor to the middle-class patients. That was still the 2nd week of the hospital ministry and the weekend processing got it right! REPRESSED ANGER! And had its greatest weight on my creeping sickness! I had been deprived of so many things before due to asthma: Play, swim, stroll, meet new friends, drive, ice cream, dance, etc. “Papawisan ka, hihika-in ka na naman!” Almost everything was prohibited and taken into careful scrutiny.
Now, people look at me as a good, calm, smiling person. Yes, God created me good. Or was I just projecting and boosting these traits and hide the “fierce and brutal beast” within, simply because these things were prohibited to a seminarian’s life?! I just can’t simply let this mentality go, because they’re deeply rooted to my past pains. I could turn into a “silent rebel”; that my being-at-home with the poor patients was saying, “Makibaka laban sa mapag-aping mayayaman!” Without the GY, I believe I would be one of those icons who became so one-sided; totally immersing themselves with the poorest of poor, and brand every rich as evil. In fact, it almost got into when, with the passive rebel triggered, I wrote rap lyrics that cruelly described the injustice committed by an elder seminarian (during college). Now, I know and am aware, more challenges and confrontations yet to come; thanks be to God through Ate Venus, Fr. Manol, and my GY buddies. For it was then that I knew that even on the way I speak almost in any occasion, there was a sense of anger; for every speech was like a declamation, heavy, with conviction, strong, willed, with force and muscle. And the very 2 fields which I’m only confident on, the academics and music, were even stained with such creeping, repressed one. Academically, the angry part wants to compensate by striving to be always on top and produce quality papers. “Musically”, this angry part really wants to boast itself as a skillful artist better than others by for instance, strumming like a rock star on Masses.
So, why remain Jun if all these things just cause you pain? Excavating the buried pains you wished were never recalled and brought back to life?! Well, my answer is this, and let me quote my answer from the question asked about the vocation story re-view during the recent PSI which stated, “At this stage of my formation, what makes me want to continue with becoming a priest?”: This promising and hopeful GY formation program this year makes me want to continue with becoming a priest. Though I was not yet done with the year, but as early as 3 months (after our director presented to us the year-round activities), I could really see promise and hope that I will be formed. I am excited (though with some feelings of worry too) on what I will become at the end of the year (since I really strive and pray to open with honesty my self to formation and God’s promptings). I could not see any formation program as wholistic and wonderful as this in other seminaries. This year is non-academic, so I can really focus on my self (my human, spiritual, pastoral aspects). Yes, it is painful whenever buried pains are brought back to life, but since I have this great faith and trust in God that I will be helped to become a good, holy, competent, full-packed priest through my formators and the formation program, I am willing and open to risk it all, to open up even the “hurtiest” details, to surrender them all to Him. In fact, from the start of the program (sharing periods, IC, SD, GA) until now, I already shared 9/10 of my life stories. I’ve got to risk.
The world is indeed not flat. No more blinding darkness, I’m starting to see rays of light (bidlisiw sa ke-adlawon) as in dawn. I see promise and hope. Soon these rays will gradually emerge as a new day comes until it radiates in full light. I just wanted to be helped.
God’s grace. Formation’s assistance. My cooperation.
LEONILO A. DAGPIN, JR.
September 9, 2008
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