March 5, 1992
                                                                Juan dela Cruz

        Contrary to what a number of people believe, there is no connection between Juan de la Cruz, the symbol of the Filipino people, and St. John of the Cross  -  San Juan de la Cruz in Spanish  -  whose feast day the Catholic Church marks today.
        Juan de la Cruz  -  a long-suffering farmer in native costume became a symbol for the Filipino people in the pages of the prewar Philippines Free Press.  According to Frederic S. Marquardt in his book Before Bataan and After, the farmer was dubbed Juan de la Cruz because that name occurred so often in official documents from rural Philippines.
        Juan is a very common name in Latin countries, just as its variants, like John, Ian, Ivan, Jan, Sean are common elsewhere.  The Philippines, however, is the only country where De La Cruz is a common name  -  and one plausible explanation brought forward is the anecdote that Spanish civil registrars invariably gave the De la Cruz family name to illiterates, who could only sign themselves with a cross.
        If Juan de la Cruz is to be considered illiterate, or at best, semiliterate, this fact makes him even more different from St. John of the Cross, a Spanish mystic who elegantly recorded his visions and his thoughts in the book The Dark Night of the Soul.
        The Catholicism of St. John of the Cross springs from the same Spanish well at which the Filipino Juan de la Cruz has imbibed.  It appears, however, as if the two had drawn water from different depths the Filipino at the surface, St. John of the Cross from the deeper waters that nourished other Spanish mystics, such as St. Teresa of Avila.
        The struggle between flesh and spirit  -  at times illumined by faith, at times threatened by existential despair  -  is something that is foreign to the Filipino.  The cry of St. John of the Cross, Todo y Nada  -  an attempt to fuse everything and nothing  -  was echoed afterwards by existentialist philosophers like Miguel de Unamuno.  It is not the kind of cry, however, that will well from the Filipino Juan de la Cruz.
        Where St. John of the Cross would make what Soren Kierkegaard described as a leap of faith, the only leaps made by Filipino Juan de la Cruz are the many short jumps that he uses to avoid being caught in the clash of competing interests and ideologies  -  a charming process of evasion and noncommitment that novelist N.V.M. Gonzales tried to catch when he described us Filipinos as "bamboo dancers."
        No, we Filipinos do not think in terms of any dark nights of the soul.  Juan de la Cruz is not wracked with the kind of fear and trembling that emanate from faith-related anxieties.  His fears are more material and elementary.  The concerns of Juan de la Cruz are the fears that come with a life of quiet desperation.  These fears stem from the basic problem of keeping body and soul together  -  and more of the time, keeping the body together is such a problem that he forgets about the soul altogether.
        It should therefore come as no surprise that St. John of the Cross, even though he is the namesake of the symbol of the Filipino nation, remains almost totally unknown to us.  He is so different, so totally foreign, that there is no way the Filipino can identify with him, much less look up to him as a patron or protector.
        It is far easier for the suffering Filipino to identify with the suffering Hesus Nazareno; for the child-like Filipino to worship the Sto. Nino; for the despairing Filipino to appeal to St. Jude, the patron of hopeless cases; and for the ever-needy Filipino to run to our Lady of Perpetual Help  -  who "has never left unaided" anyone who fled to her protection, invoked her help, or sought her intercession.