Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
After three posts exploring the Catholic content of Of Gods and Men, I thought I was finished, but combox responses persuaded me to add two more posts.
One comment expressed concerns about edits being made to eliminate references to Jesus Christ. Another expressed doubts regarding the extent to which the monks’ conversations, including their debates about whether or not to remain in Algeria, made reference to Jesus, God or spiritual considerations. Other readers have written to me with related questions and misgivings, though to be fair I’ve also heard from many deeply appreciative viewers of the film.
To an extent some of these questions are startling to me, partly since I already documented (in part 2) Christian’s magnificent Incarnational discourse in which he talks about “welcoming the Child” at Christmas, adding in part, “The Incarnation, for us, is to allow the filial reality of Jesus to embody itself in our humanity. The mystery of Incarnation remains what we are going to live.”
To this crowning example can be added numerous additional spiritually and theologically fraught lines—including specifically Christological references specifically on the subject mentioned above, whether or not to stay in Algeria.
For example, one of the monks defends his vote to say this way: “The Good Shepherd doesn’t abandon his flock to the wolves.”
Another, citing the words of Jesus, says, “The disciple is not above his master. This is no time for me to stray. Let God set the table here.”
Amédée’s contribution to the debate is notable: “I don’t know yet,” he says; “We need to think, and pray together.” Christian agrees, adding, “Help will come from the Lord”—and the monks automatically add, “Who made heaven and earth.”
Later, Christian concludes, “Wildflowers don’t move to find the sun’s rays. God makes them fecund wherever they are.”
To one of the brothers struggling with doubts and even with the notion of leaving the community, Christian appeals to the imitatio Christi and to the vows that bind them together: “You’ve already given your life. You gave it by following Christ. When you decided to leave everything. Your life, your family, your country. The family you could have raised.”
Then there’s Luc’s testimony in a letter, in the actual words of the monk: “We are in a high-risk situation, but we persist in our faith and our confidence in God. It is through poverty, failure and death that we advance towards Him ... Dear friend, pray for me that my leaving this world will pass in peace and joy of Jesus.”
There’s Christophe’s struggle with the sense of God’s absence, which surely implies that God is the central reference point in his life—and his serene awareness of God’s return: “You. You envelop me, hold me, surround me. You embrace me. And I love you.”
Finally, consider Christian’s spiritual testament, considered in detail in part 3. Even as edited for the film (edits, I submit, made basically for length, even if one might wish for different edits), the film still reports Christian alluding to Jesus’ passion and death in contemplating the possibility of his own murder: “The the Unique Master of all life was no stranger to this brutal departure.” And in referring to God twice as “Father” Christian expresses a filial sensibility toward God that is both Christian and Christological.
In addition to all this are wordless gestures that explicitly attest Christian faith and spirituality, the most touching of which is the image mentioned in my review, far more powerful than words, of Luc pressing his head to the Savior’s side in the mural on the wall. Another is Christian’s prayer for the terrorist leader, both an obviously theological act and one that is uniquely Christian—only Christianity teaches us to love and pray for our enemies.
I don’t know how much more theologically and Christologically fraught the spare dialogue could possibly be—it’s not a very talky film. (By my count, according to the online source I’ve been using, the film has fewer than 5000 words total, quite low for a movie script. If we count only the dialogue, omitting liturgical and other readings (including a reading from a newspaper sports column), the word count drops to under 3700; eliminate dialogue from Muslim characters, and the count drops further still. In fact, in terms of actual substantial dialogue amongst the monks, including their writings, I count fewer than 2000 words total. As a point of comparison, my review of the film is 1400 words!)
One more part to come.
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The film is designed for distribution in your everyday movie theaters (unlike Into Grand Silence). To make it interesting, some things were downplayed or just not covered. However, the film is based upon the book “The Monks of Tibhirine: Faith, Love, and Terror in Algeria” by John Kiser which focused more on the tragedy of the monks of Tibhirine and of the Algerian civil war more generally. The focus is not on theology or the going on of Trappist community life, if you want that simply read “The Rule of St. Benedict” as Trappists are the strict observance of the Rule or just watch “Into Grand Silence.” The Catholicity of this film is a group of Monks who followed Christ to the death because they did not want to leave the Muslim people they befriended. For a fuller account, read the NY Times account from 1996 or the website “The Atlas Martyrs by Dom Donald McGlynn OCSO
@ Dan: And yet, while Into Great Silence obviously has more liturgy and monastic rigor than Of Gods and Men, Of Gods and Men has more and fuller theological content; it is also more Christocentric, more incarnational. Is it more Eucharistic? It might be a toss-up. Into Great Silence has that Eucharistic procession and a brief, wordless scene of the monks drinking from a common chalice. Of Gods and Men has—well, see the next and final post. But I don’t really want to pit the two films against each other. I’m deeply grateful for both of them.
Steven, I do not want to pit the two against eachother as I feel that both are wonderful and I apologize if my comments make it sound that way. I think the question is, “what makes a film Catholic?” In the case of both, it is obvious that they are both Catholic.
No worries Dan—it was my own comparison/contrast I was guarding against, not yours! Cheers.
If I had any remaining questions, I’d be interested to know why the monks vow of stability apparently did not play a role in their deliberations (as those deliberations were portrayed in the film). The fourth vow of monks to stability ordinarily binds them to the house they have chosen to enter for the remainder of their lives. Granted, I’m certain the Church makes provisions to dispense monks to move in cases like this, but (to the best of my knowledge) that consideration never came up in the film. It’s not a significant issue, in my opinion, but it might have clarified at least part of the reason for the monks’ anguish at the possibility of leaving their monastery.
Michelle, the book and the original NYT article does mention that, althouh not explicit. The Monks chose to stay. Both the book and the article does not mention The Rule, but it is obvious that it played a factor in their decision. Also, there are provisions in place if a monk or a group of monks choose or need to make a move (extreme danger is one). Usually this is found in the constitution of the Order so Rome does not need to grant approval.
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