The Three Christs of Ypsilanti - Milton Rokeach [69]
March 24. Clyde wants to hear about “that dung business” in the Bible. Leon says that I have checked and found that it is a Protestant Bible and, turning quite readily to the place, he asks me to read the verses. I read aloud from Philippians 3:8: “Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”
April 5. During a discussion of the names by which each of the three men should be addressed, Leon gives us another clue to the motive underlying his change of name. “Because people are prejudiced,” he says, “they see Rex and say, ‘What! He a king!’ I went down to the most humble name I could think of.” After hesitating a moment, he adds: “God Almighty thought of it and gave it to me.”
From the preceding, it would appear that Leon’s new name did not represent a change of identity but rather an extraordinary elaboration and rearrangement of beliefs that were already present within the framework of his total system, and that the purpose of the change of name was to enable him to cope better with a social situation to which he, unlike Clyde and Joseph, was highly vulnerable. In becoming Dung, Leon tells us in schizophrenic bits and snatches, he is not renouncing his Christ identity, but, on the contrary, he is defending it, making it impervious to attack by retreating with it underground. Henceforth, he tells us, he is going to be the humblest creature on the face of the earth—so lowly as not to be worth bothering with. But though he would not refer to himself as the reincarnation of Jesus of Nazareth, he maintained this identity for many, many months, and he still believed he was the reincarnation of Jesus Christ.
Why did he have to take such desperate means to defend his identity as Christ? It would have been much easier simply to refuse to have anything whatever to do with Clyde or Joseph or us. As already mentioned, we had no way of forcing Leon to attend the daily meetings; or to sit in their sitting room, day in and day out, with Joseph at his side; or to eat with the others; or to work with them. All he had to do was withdraw, and that would be that! He could have gone to the toilet and stayed there during the meetings, or he could have gone to the recreation room. Such refusals are not uncommon among mental patients, and Leon had demonstrated on many occasions that he was only too capable of standing his ground rigidly and saying “No!” For example, unlike Clyde and Joseph, he continually refused my offerings of cigarettes with a “No, thank you, sir,” or “I’ve just had one, sir,” even though he betrayed his desire for a good ready-made cigarette by such gestures as extending his hand in its direction when it was offered. But then, instead of taking the cigarette, he would continue an elaborate motion, at the end of which his hand went to his own pocket, and drew forth his own tobacco pouch. He also refused to accept his small weekly allowance from us. In a like manner, he refused to touch any part of the large sum of money which had been accruing over the years to his account by virtue of a veteran’s pension. He refused to go to the dances despite continued urging from the aides on the ward. Leon could certainly say “No!” when he wanted to.
Our best guess as to the motive for his behavior is that it permitted him both to have his cake and to eat it. All the evidence indicates that he needed and wanted to continue as a member of the group. The reward was attention, human companionship, stimulation, and relief from the relentless boredom of everyday life in the back wards of a mental hospital. At the same time there was a price, a price he