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December 25th 1996
Back at the pew. I stand beside Mati, holding her hand. She crooks her finger, whispers in my ear;
December 25th 1996
Back at the pew. I stand beside Mati, holding her hand. She crooks her finger, whispers in my ear;
“The padre says it is the Evangelio de Segun San Juan. Umm, numbero 1:1-18.”
We listen, intently with the congregation, as he reads the Gospel;
“En la principio existia el Verbo.... / In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God......
The sermon is in Spanish. I can’t follow much of it. My thoughts drift to the message of John; “And the Word became flesh and lived amongst us.....”
In the person of Jesus, God becomes one with us -a Christian platitude? I think I’ve heard it all before. I’m not very religious these days. Rather cynical I guess. In Canada, we often say these words at church. Maybe we even teach them at school. Easy enough -but what does it mean anymore? Content to praise God, pay lip service, we go on with our everyday lives. Business as usual, everybody screwing each other around. At least that's the way it often seems. Queens Park Toronto? Now there’s a place that really cares, is filled with the spirit. Ha! And in Cuba? Does the little baby on the silver star by the altar really matter, even here? Who believes in miracles anymore?
A hushed, excited murmur! I gaze toward the church doors. A line of policemen hands on their hips are standing against the back wall! Watching intently! In Cuba, only the parti organizes and speaks at any large gathering. Billy clubs now in hand, they nervously exchange glances. Suspiciously staring at the padre, the congregation. King Herod's foot soldiers? I nudge Matilde. She casts me a knowing glance, “Si!” anxiously she fingers the rosary around her neck, “Mucho problemas. You’ll see.”
In the person of Jesus, God becomes one with us -a Christian platitude? I think I’ve heard it all before. I’m not very religious these days. Rather cynical I guess. In Canada, we often say these words at church. Maybe we even teach them at school. Easy enough -but what does it mean anymore? Content to praise God, pay lip service, we go on with our everyday lives. Business as usual, everybody screwing each other around. At least that's the way it often seems. Queens Park Toronto? Now there’s a place that really cares, is filled with the spirit. Ha! And in Cuba? Does the little baby on the silver star by the altar really matter, even here? Who believes in miracles anymore?
A hushed, excited murmur! I gaze toward the church doors. A line of policemen hands on their hips are standing against the back wall! Watching intently! In Cuba, only the parti organizes and speaks at any large gathering. Billy clubs now in hand, they nervously exchange glances. Suspiciously staring at the padre, the congregation. King Herod's foot soldiers? I nudge Matilde. She casts me a knowing glance, “Si!” anxiously she fingers the rosary around her neck, “Mucho problemas. You’ll see.”
1 comment:
Hello Readers!
Some writer's notes:
In editing Christmas in Cuba, we are still in what originally would've been Chapter 4, which is the cathedral scene. I've chopped it up quite a bit. It was very long to read as one blog.
I'm not sure it would have the same dramatic effect either. Time and space need not be a problem in cyberspace. I'm thinking that this story might work best as a series of short hits. Unless of course they are getting too disperse?
I might've gotten chop happy with Christmas in Cuba 6. Indeed I posted it with the draft subtitle "Police" before I remembered it was going to be retitled "Silent Night!". Now it is as a lead into Christmas in Cuba 7.
Possibly Christmas in Cuba 6 + 7 should've been kept together as one piece. They are both pretty hard hitting though. I think so. I am posting them back to back, with a few days inbetween to let folks catch up. Maybe reflect on the different themes a bit.
Anyway, it will post at midnight tonight. Hope you enjoy!
David C
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