It lay for months cellophane wrapped on a pile of DVDs. Maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for it. The story of a group of French Cistercian monks in a mountainous region in Algeria becoming the victims of Islamist extremism. I cracked it open yesterday however and felt that it was just waiting its moment. It’s called Of God’s And Men and it’s a true story. Slow paced, without spectacle, no incidental music and yet it leaves a lasting impression.
The monks have been quietly serving a community, providing medical aid, living peaceably with local Muslims, studying and praying, when the shadow of Islamist terrorism falls upon them. Their community is immediately under stress. Almost paralysed with anxiety and doubt the monks have to make a decision to continue their work or return to France. Opinion is divided and several seem to be on the verge of psychological breakdown. Outside the community the pressure builds from local politicians and the military to abandon the work.
Interspersed with scenes of personal anguish and intense discussion are times of worship when white-clad and still the monks sing together and pray. An undercurrent of peace in the maelstrom of emotion. In one scene the sound of a military helicopter intrudes on their worship and they stand as one, hands on shoulders, continuing their worship, bound together in their commitment to honour God above all.
It is out of this fellowship in the Spirit that the resolution forms to stay as a witness to the love of Christ and if necessary to pay the ultimate price. The test comes and it is hard to watch but you cannot escape the sense of fulfillment at the end of the struggle and the agony. And not just for them. When stories like this are told they have an impact.
More than anything it is the worship that stays with me. Under all kinds of pressure they continued and from this they gathered their strength. I am constantly drawn back to Acts 1, the beginning of the community life of the Church, and reminded that before there was the outpouring of the Spirit and the powerful preaching and the miraculous healing there was a small group of people praying. (Acts 1: 14) From this there sprung that movement of people that was said to be turning the world upside down. This is the end of our worship. The hymns, prayers, preaching moving us to an engagement with Almighty God. The cry in Psalm 42: ‘My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?’ should never be far from our lips. When our hearts are set in this way we can connect with the reality and the purpose of God, not just as satisfied individuals but as a people caught up in the divine surge towards the New Creation.
I feel a bit like the Psalmist this morning as he remembers the days when he would lead the worship of God’s people ‘with shouts of joy and thanksgiving.’ I can’t be there and yes I am ‘downcast’ at the thought. But I think of those who are there and pray that they have engaged with God this morning and that that will make a difference to our community and our nation and the world. As for me, it is as it was for the Psalmist: ‘By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me - a prayer to the God of my life.’ (Psalm 42: 8)
