Film captures monks’ steadfast commitment to peace
There is a scene in the fact-based Of Gods and Men that lingers conspicuously in your thoughts long after the credits have rolled.
The central characters, eight French Cistercian monks who live communally in an Algerian monastery, gather to celebrate a meal that carries the symbolic weight of the Last Supper. One of them, Brother Luc (Michael Lonsdale), cues a tape that plaintively blares the haunting theme music of Swan Lake while the wine is poured and the bread is broken. The segment's emotional evocation is a bit over the top, perhaps, but the paradoxical joy that's captured in the facial expressions of those men rings wholly true despite its counterintuitive nature.
Director Xavier Beauvois builds up to this intense scene and subsequent climax with deliberately slow pacing. Beautiful cinematography will not be rushed as the camera pans across a countryside that is clearly not European. We are witness to the ringing bells, communal prayers, and the singing of this small group of monks in an austere setting, as well as to the enactment of their daily chores.
This pacing is deliberate, however, as it allows viewers to enter into the plodding simplicity of the cloistered life. We see though, that for every cloistered ritual, there is a corresponding interaction with the surrounding community. The beekeepers tend their hives, but also engage the locals at the market where they sell their honey. The monks' leader, Brother Christian (Lambert Wilson), cheerfully helps a villager with a passport. Most notably, Brother Luc runs a medical clinic that might see as many as 150 patients in a day.
The film's conflict emerges as a group of Islamic militants wreak havoc - murdering Croatian construction workers and leaving other bodies on the roadside. Government officials offer military protection to the monks who are endangered at least as much for their foreigner status as for their Christian allegiance. The accumulating angst evident among some of the brothers is played out in individual conversations with older mentors. Those conversations reveal genuine fear as several monks contemplate a return to France.
Herein lies the heart of the dilemma for the brothers. They have the resources to leave, and even a homeland to which they can return, but they are bound to their location by their love for the people that they so faithfully serve. What's more, they discover how much their work is esteemed by the villagers. The brothers are compared to a sturdy limb upon which the birds rest.
What's also remarkable is the gracious spirit in which the doubtful monks are received. There is no shaming or guilt-trips wielded by senior brothers, no references to duty or attempts to establish policy by hierarchical fiat, just patient listening and a genuine attempt to collectively pray through fears and to arrive at a true consensus.
When the consensus emerges to remain, come what may, the overarching rationale is the brothers love for the people they serve and their recognition that their faith calls them to willingly take up their cross.
I love this film for many reasons, one of which is the modeling of active Christian values and commitment to peace. In a world where Christian faith is easily lampooned by the actions of Qur'an-burning Florida pastors and hate-slogan placards brandished at military funerals, we see Christ-followers who know and quote the Qur'an in their conversations with Islamic gunmen and who treat their wounded without prejudice. Instead of pastors who invoke a prosperity gospel to enhance and justify lavish lifestyles we see simple men who embrace poverty and service to the poor.
Most of all I love the way we are drawn in to identify with the central characters' dilemma. This film challenges me to ask hard questions, such as whether I could knowingly embrace inevitable suffering as the monks do. As one of the brothers astutely points out, "Is a servant greater than his Master?"
This film has been critically acclaimed. It won the Grand Prize at last year's Cannes Film Festival and got great notices at Toronto's counterpart last September. Viewers will have to manage subtitles as the film's dialogue is primarily French, but this is a story that is primarily visual in its telling. And while a few scenes of violence necessitate a PG-13 rating, none are gratuitous.
This film is currently in narrow release in major Canadian cities, but a screening might be caught at local repertory theatres or film society events. It also provides a great forum for discussion among diverse faith communities. Rating: Three and a half out of four stars.
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