Faith, works, and the revolution

I almost felt like an explorer discovering a new land when our plane touched down at the Jose Marti International Airport in Havana.

Cuba is only 90 miles from the U.S. shore, but somehow Havana seems much further away than cities like Paris, London or Rome. In fact, most Americans know much more about France, Italy and Britain than we do about our nearest Caribbean neighbor.

I traveled to Cuba as a part of an ecumenical delegation of American Christians invited there to gain a knowledge of Cuba’s government, society and people. We were guests there for 10 days, visiting communities, schools, farms, and factories. During my free time I was able to visit four protestant congregations, several leaders of the Student Christian Movement and two of the five protestant seminaries.

Christianity was introduced to Cuba in much the same way as it was to most of the rest of the third world--through European colonialism. Along with traders and settlers, the Spanish colonizers brought with them Roman Catholicism. Since all the indigenous Indians on the island of Cuba were killed during the colonial era, and the African slaves were forced to adapt their religion to that of their masters, Cuba was nearly 100% Catholic until the Spanish-American War at the end of the 19th century. But after Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders “saved” Cuba from the tyranny of the Spanish Empire, U.S. Protestant missionaries swept in to “save” Cuba from the tyranny of the Roman Church.

I was able to piece together the more recent history of the church in Cuba through interviews with former Cuban missionaries, discussions with Cuban Christians, conversations with historians at the University of Havana and a visit to the Museum of the Revolution in Havana.

Briefly, the church leadership of both Catholic and Protestant churches in Cuba was dominated by foreigners at the time of the revolution in 1959. Spanish bishops dominated the Cuban Catholic church while American missionaries dominated the Protestant hierarchy. To the extent that Cuban Christians were involved in the struggle, they usually supported the corrupt dictator, Batista. Only one acknowledged Christian is honored in the Museum of the Revolution: Frank Pais, a Baptist minister’s son, and one of the leaders killed in the urban movement struggling against Batista.

The protestant missionaries remained largely silent at the time of the revolution, but as it became clear that Fidel was a socialist and serious about basic reform in Cuban Society, the American missionaries, along with their mother country, turned against the Cuban revolution. With the U.S. economic blockade of Cuba in 1960 it became illegal for U.S. mission boards to continue supporting their churches and missionaries in Cuba. At this time all the American Protestant missionaries, except Lois Krohler, with the United Presbyterian mission, returned to the U.S.

I was able to speak to Lois Krohler when I visited Mantanzas Evangelical Union Seminary, where she teaches religious education. Lois gave two reasons why most of the missionaries left Cuba. First, “most of the missionaries equated communism with atheism, and with the devil. There was no understanding that you could be a Christian and that the church could even prosper under a communist government.

“I believe that our anticommunism was, and for many American Christians still is, a major stumbling block in our ability to witness to the people of Cuba. I was shocked to see the communist government accomplishing the very things for which I had been praying for over ten years.”

The second cause of the Christian exodus was economic loss. “Under a socialist system, scarce commodities are distributed equally, so that even the poor get their share,” Lois explained. “While this means that the poor get more than they ever had before, the rich get less. If you were not willing to accept a lower standard of living, you left--as most of the Cuban professionals and American missionaries did. But for the majority of the Cuban people, the revolution has meant an increase in standard of living.”

The church’s prerevolutionary history has now come back to haunt it. Professor Adolfo Ham, teaching at the Union Evangelical Seminary in Matanzas, described it this way: “Today we are more bound by our past than we are by the new society.”

Our guide at the Alamar Housing Project was a volunteer worker from the petroleum industry who had worked for the last 6 years on a “micro brigade” construction crew to meet the housing shortage. He was evidently unused to speaking to groups of foreigners, and his words rang with the authenticity of the unrehearsed.

At one point, one of the priests in our delegation mentioned that the Catholic church in New York City had been doing the kind of work for the poor that he saw happening at Alamar. The worker, visibly irritated by the comparison, gave his testimony as to what the revolution had done for him:

I am fifty-three, I don’t believe in religion. I lost my father when I was twelve, but there was no church to help me. I was the oldest of thirteen children and I had to steal to provide for the rest. When I went to the church they only asked me what I had brought to give the church--they didn’t ask to help our family.

I believe in communism. It has given me a home, a refrigerator and many other necessary things. I am ready to fight for the revolution. I would go anywhere in the world that the revolution asked me to help others in their revolution. I’ll stay with communism; they gave me daycare for my children from the age of forty-five days until school age.

Many foreigners don’t understand why we are willing to work on our days off. But we are working for ourselves. If we don’t build housing, schools, and other facilities, who will?

Cuban Christians are now embarrassed by their silence and inactivity during the prerevolutionary period of corruption, violence, inequality and poverty. Christians are often asked, “Where was the church when Cuban children were dying of malnutrition (the infant mortality rate has been cut in half since the Revolution), when a quarter of our population was illiterate (now, less than 4% cannot read), when Cuban cities were controlled by the mafia and the countryside was controlled by exploitative American sugar companies? What was the church saying and doing when we needed you?”

In preparation for my trip to Cuba, I interviewed several evangelical missionaries who had served in Cuba. One of the missionaries with whom I spoke remembered with some sorrow those years before the revolution:

“Even my mission board suggested that we become involved in meeting some of the desperate needs of the people during the prerevolutionary period. They suggested that we become involved in medical or educational work among the poor. But I remember writing back that the ‘fields were ripe for harvest;’ the spiritual needs were so great that I wanted to spend full time in evangelism. At that time I mistakenly viewed the Christian faith as relevant only to the spiritual side of life . . . A one-dimensional relationship between man and God . . . I neglected my social responsibility to the full person.”

Rev. Raul Caballos, a Cuban Presbyterian pastor, pointed out the dilemma for the Cuban church today.

“For years we Christians claimed to be God’s people. We spoke of our desire to care for the needy, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, but by and large, it was only words. And now we have a government which is actually doing these very things...

“Do you remember the parable of the man who had two sons? He asked them both to go work in his vineyard. One of the sons said yes, but did nothing. The second son said no, but turned around and did as his father commanded. Christ then turns to the people and asks, ‘Which son did the will of his father?’ And the people responded that it was the one which actually did as his father commanded.”

Other Cuban Christians pointed out that in biblical times when God’s people were unfaithful, God used even pagan kings to do his will.

The age-old dilemma of faith and works is still at the center of much of the debate in the Cuban church today. Often during our discussion of Christian involvement in the society, a question would arise concerning the Committees to Defend the Revolution, or the CDRs, as they are called in Cuba.

The CDRs were established in late 1960 at a time when there were many acts of sabotage, infiltration, and the threat of an all-out American invasion. They were originally set up to protect factories and other public buildings from sabotage and to keep the people vigilant for the expected invasion. Over the years defense has become only a very minor aspect of the grassroots organization.

The CDRs are now the basic unit of the Cuban Revolution. We asked our hosts how they accounted for the high level of participation in them, pointing to the low level of political participation in the U.S. They responded, “If there is no chance of change or control there will be a low level of participation. But this is only possible when people can see the results of their efforts. If the people can exercise no power they will retreat into individualism.”

The CDRs are made up of all the people who live in one block or, perhaps in one apartment building. All officers are elected by popular vote once a year by the entire membership. The CDR sees to it that every child is in school and discusses who should try to assist a student who is having trouble completing his lessons. It is the CDR which organizes to see that every woman gets the PAP test, all children are vaccinated, that new mothers get proper care. The CDR organizes to create a ball field, organize an amateur theater, collect recycled bottles and papers, organize classes on fire prevention public health, or discuss the proposed new national constitution or the latest speech from Fidel.

The 11 or 12 local CDRs also elect one representative to the municipal assembly. There are also provincial assemblees and a national assembly which bring the popular participation in the government up to the national level.

I have gone into some detail about the CDR, not simply because most Americans assumed that there was no democracy in Cuba, but largely because participation in the local CDR has been a major item which has divided the evangelical and pentecostal churches, and has considerably affected the way in which the community responds to the Christian.

Some Christians have said, “We belong to another kingdom; we will not participate in the CDR.” (Read “sinful world.”) This means that too often the Christian is not on the voluntary brigade which is cleaning the street, planting the trees or cutting the sugar cane with non-Christian neighbors. The CDRs naturally respond with some hostility to members of the community who want to benefit from the improved environment of the community but do not wish to participate in the hard work.

Some Christians complained that believers are not allowed to study medicine, social work, pedagogy or psychology at the university. Later I discovered that there were many Christians who are not only studying but also teaching in these fields at the university. When I asked them what made the difference they responded that they were involved in their local community CDRs and often did voluntary work. In Cuba it takes the recommendation of your community to be admitted into the social sciences at the university. One can still study science or engineering even if your neighbors do not recommend you as a caring person, but if you have not exhibited a concern for your neighbors you will not be allowed to train for one of the human science occupations.

My most interesting discussion on the subject of Christian involvement within the society occured during my last day in Cuba. With the assistance of a Cuban pentecostal pastor whom we had met earlier in the week, another American and I traveled by bus and taxicab out to a small Nazarene seminary at Punto Prova, just outside Havana. The seminary is actually an old farm which has been partially remodeled--former chicken houses and tool sheds are now classrooms and dormitories. The seminary has only one full-time, salaried employee, the director, Rev. Eduardo Valdres.

Rev. Valdres is deeply committed to Christian involvement within the society. Both he and Mrs. Valdres are involved in their CDR. He is quick to admit that he had not always believed this way, but in 1973 had had a charismatic experience which opened his eyes to the Christian responsibility within the society. He likened this experience to Peter’s vision of the lowering of the sheet with many animals, which opened the apostolic church’s ministry to the gentiles.

A Presbyterian pastor mentioned that there were many more opportunities to witness and pastor in the cane fields on the voluntary brigades than there had ever been in church on Sunday. “Some how people seem to listen to you better when you have a machete in your hand and you are cutting cane beside them.”

Rev. Valdres was open in his praise for the many improvements which had been brought to Cuba by the revolution-improvements in health, education and housing, the demise of the state church, and the elimination of prostitution, drug addiction, and unemployment. But he hopes that his seminary can help bridge the gap in understanding between the evangelical Christian community and the revolution.

He sees the central question for the seminary as the church of Cuba today as, “How can we keep the evangelical spirit and remain involved as the yeast of society? The Christian or the society without vision will perish. Christians realize that the state is limited; we must provide the vision.”

Doug Hostetter was a member of the Mennonite Central Committee Peace Section and a Resource Specialist for Asia and Peace at the United Methodist Office for the United Nations when this article appeared. He previously worked as a volunteer for the MCC from 1966 to 1969 in Tam Ky, Vietnam.