Banishing God too big a job for Castro

Once upon a time a dictator in Cuba declared there was no longer room at the inn. There would be no Christmas on the island, he proclaimed. There would be no Nochebuena, the festive ``good night'' of Christmas Eve. Jesus Christ would have to be born in the mangers of exile, in the company of the faithful also outcast from their homeland.

And as decades passed, a strong, silent current thickened beneath the island, threatening to lift it up as a wave would hoist a raft to safety.

Oblivious to it, Fidel Castro continued his godless march. In an unyielding frenzy, he rushed to carve his mark upon everything on the island, renaming the provinces, the streets and the schools, darkening the churches, replacing prayers with militant slogans, incense with the smoke of his Cohiba, crucifixes with posters of his fatigue-clad self.

``Close your eyes,'' he told the children. ``Ask Jesus Christ for candy.''

When their hands remained empty, he continued:

``Now, ask Fidel.''

Then he filled their palms with the sweets of deception.

The tactics

He never rested. It is, after all, an all-consuming task to eradicate God from such a large island, to breed fear where there should be trust, and distrust among neighbors where there should be love. It is a big, big job. It requires strong-arm tactics, jailing enemies, persecuting critics, raiding the homes of innocents, and, if necessary, executing those who threaten your power.

And Fidel Castro seemed to be good at accomplishing the ubiquity he sought. For all the years of his rule, there was little risk that anyone more powerful than he would step upon Cuban soil.

Until now.

Now, just days after the Feast of the Three Kings, Havana awaits the visit of Pope John Paul II. The pontiff's Jan. 21-25 trip has created a storm of expectation in Cuba, as the government grapples with the political implications, the long-strained relationship with the Catholic Church, and the demands of the Vatican.

This pope has proven to be so powerful that, before even arriving in Havana, he has already breathed new life into Cuban society.

Historic announcement

It was at his request that Fidel Castro made a historic announcement last weekend -- he would bring back Christmas to Cuba this year, and only this year. The man who canceled Christmas in 1969, making it a regular workday, told a meeting of the legislative National Assembly that he would reinstate the holiday as a gesture of goodwill toward the pope and his faithful.

His pronouncement has been hailed a miracle in Havana. And I am certain he will take full credit for all of it, for having restored spirituality in the population, for allowing the churches to rattle in song once again, and, yes, for welcoming the pope.

At last, some will say, Castro has cleared a room at the inn. Many may note how this Dec. 25 the comandante will be upstaged by a presence greater than even the pope. He will be upstaged by a prince.

But those who lovingly await the pope's coming know differently. They know none of this is the doing of Castro, or any other man. They know this because they have long felt the strength of a current flowing beneath Cuba. They have watched the momentum build.

They know it comes from a free place in the soul no dictator can touch. And they know that no one can reinstate what can never be suspended.