Wheaton College Alumni Magazine Autumn 2013 | Page 21

Photo: Dr. Gene Green

easier to be a Christian in Cuba than in the United States,” says Matt,
“because the government oppression breeds faith, while the oppression
of abundance we have in the U.S. tricks us into believing we don’t
need Christ.”
Matt also says the trip challenged his assumption that his
Westernized faith was objective, while the theologies of the Global
South were experientially driven.
“I wanted to critique Cuban liberation theologians for the way they
have allowed their experience [re-education camps and other forms

In Her Words

Many spring break
trips to tropical island
paradises culminate
with postcards sent
to friends and family
back home. Sara
Hogan ’13 and
eleven other Wheaton
students sent letters
to their federal
Congressmen and
wrote reflection
papers instead.
Following is an
excerpt from Sara’s
paper on this island
whose “story
is rarely told and often
forgotten despite
its geographic
nearness.”
by Sara Hogan ’13

of repression] to shape their theology, because I foolishly believed I
had never done that,” he says.
Sizing up his faith next to a Cuban Christian’s allowed him to see
the areas where his own culture had shaped his doctrine.
His conclusion? “We need to live our lives next to Christians from
around the world, because this is the only way we will get a more
complete picture of who God is.”
Toward this end, Wheaton’s Center for Global and Experiential
Learning (GEL) offers several week-long and semester-long programs
in a variety of international locations, and for each, the learning begins
on campus. Before traveling to Cuba, these Wheaton students spent
time studying the differences between politics, life, and faith in a
Communist regime versus a liberal democracy.
Dr. Laura Montgomery, dean of global and experiential learning,
says, “We aspire for our students, faculty, and staff to function
competently as global Christians who have the capacity to live, work,
learn, serve, and worship across cultural boundaries in a meaningful,
respectful manner in ‘imitation of Christ.’”

Students and congregation in front of a Methodist
church in La Europa, a small village 60 kilometers
from Havana.

Cuba

is a place of contested realities, of paradoxes, of tension
between ideals and practices. Cuba’s economy, society, and politics
remain much the same today in 2013 as they were in 1959 when
Fidel and the Revolution took over. Fidel came to power, promising
change to society so that the elites wouldn’t have majority power.

The Revolution made great promises for reformed and improved social
services, many of which were effected. The Castro regime has
improved literacy rates and provides low-quality, basic healthcare
for all Cubans. The social services that the Cuban government provides,
however, are not enough. Running water and electricity are often
luxuries. The food that is rationed out to each family is rarely (if ever)
enough.
I experienced this firsthand when w e visited the rural town of Europa,
a 45-minute bus ride outside of Havana. There I visited Leta, a
40-year-old woman whose “house” was a ram-shackle hut with sheets
for walls, partitioning off four rooms. No running water. One light bulb.
When I asked Leta if the amount of food rationed to her was sufficient for
her and her five-year-old daughter, she started crying and said no, while
also giving me a look as if to say, The question is not whether or not the
rations are enough. Of course they are not enough. The question you
should be asking is, “How do we survive despite this?” I failed to ask that
question, but she graciously answered it for me. First she smiled, her
eyes brightened, and a torrent of words flowed out of her mouth. But all
I saw was joy, and all I heard as the answer to that alternative question
was la gracia de Dios (the grace of God).

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