Best Movie Churches Films

To be honest, most films don’t exactly have good life lessons. 

I love Liam Neeson action films, and while Taken does teach the important lesson that Father Knows Best (and as much as we in the audience cheer on his sadistic trail of revenge to save his daughter), we know that going out on our own to kill bunches of people would not lead to good places. We may delight in James Bond’s bon mots as he hops from one bed to another, but in real life, emotional and spiritual havoc is brought on by such behavior (leaving aside pregnancy and STDs).

I am a Christian and a pastor who also happens to love films. I recognize that most films, even ones that I enjoy, don’t present a healthy approach to decision-making or relationships. I’m with Paul who (in Romans 12:19) advised against taking revenge because that's God’s territory. Yet I still want to see Wayne or Eastwood shoot up the town. I agree with the writer of Hebrews in the 4th verse of the 13th chapter that the marriage bed should be kept holy, but part of me really wants Rick to fly off with Ilsa.

But every once in a while, the filmmakers get some things right and show characters making choices that would be wise choices in real life. The following films are sources of spiritual encouragement for me, and maybe they will be for you, too. 

12) Silence (2016) 

The first couple of films on this list aren’t the kind of films you’ll find on PureFlix, the Christian streaming channel. Martin Scorsese adapted this grim film about the persecution of the church in Japan from the novel by Shusaku Endo. It’s not a film about Christians boldly holding up to persecution; it’s a film about Christians giving in to severe persecution. It teaches that life can be hard, we can mess up, but God is still there and still faithful.

11) Wise Blood (1979)

John Huston adapted Flannery O’Connor’s tale of a man who tried to create a "Church without Christ," but instead finds he can’t escape Christ. These are two films in a row of people not being faithful where God is faithful. Both films encouraged me greatly.

10) Millions (2004) 

In Luke 16 you can read the parable of the Shrewd Manager about a man who used resources he was entrusted with for his own benefit. The point of the story is that we should use our resources for the benefit of others and eternity. This story is told in another way in this film. (I do have a problem with St. Peter's recollections in this film, but otherwise…) Bonus -- it's a Christmas film!

9) The Case for Christ (2017)

This is the only “Christian” film on the list. Most films made by Christian filmmakers are… what's the word? Oh yeah. Bad. This true story of Chicago Tribune reporter Lee Strobel’s investigation into the truth of the Christian faith works. For three Christmases, I’ve shown this film to men in a recovery program at my mission, and every time they've found it to be moving in a positive way. 

8) Ordet (1955) 

The great Scandinavian director, Carl Theodore Dreyer, told this story of a family and a town, divided by petty denominational differences, brought together by a man who seems mad -- and a miracle.

7) Chariots of Fire (1981) 

“I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.” So says Eric Liddell in this Oscar-winning story of an Olympian who didn’t put his sport first. Liddell was a man who recognized what was truly important in life but found joy in secondary things as well.

6) Joyeux Noel (2005)

This is the second Christmas film on the list. Set in World War I, it tells the story of peace on Christmas Eve. If it could happen that one night, why not more?

5) Babette’s Feast (1987)

This Oscar winner for Best Foreign Language shows the joy to be found in sharing your gifts with others.

4) A Hidden Life (2019)

Terrence Malick isn’t known for making edge-of-your-seat blockbusters. This isn’t an exception to the rule. It's a meditative telling of a lone man's opposition to the power of the Third Reich.

3) The Apostle (1997)

Robert Duvall has starred in three of the best films about Christianity ever made. (If this was a top twenty list, I would have also included Get Low.) Duvall wrote and directed this film, as well as starring as the Apostle, E.F. There have been many films about flawed clergymen, but this film does an amazing balancing act of presenting a preacher’s mistakes and sins with the glory and value of the Gospel.

2) Leon Morin, Priest (1961)

Over this blog's seven years, I’ve seen many pastors on the silver screen. Some were crooks and murderers, but more often they were sappy and insipid. This French film presents an intelligent, funny, and wise man who is also faithful to God and his ministry.

1)Tender Mercies (1983) 

This is my favorite film about faith. An alcoholic country-western singer passes out in a small, rural motel. The motel's owner cares for Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall) as he comes to recovery and new life. He still has pain and regrets. I work with men overcoming addictions to alcohol and drugs, and this film rings true. Mac’s walk of faith rings true. And do you know what else? The pastor and church in this film deserved the Four Steeple Rating.

Next week, we'll wrap up the blog and 2022.

I Fought the Law Month: The Prisoner

The Prisoner (1955)

It's the second week of “I Fought the Law Month,” and this week makes it clear that "the Law" is not always the good guy. Sure, last week we had a homicidal preacher -- and there are plenty of movies with homicidal pastors -- and in those films, we here at Movie Churches root for the law. Not in this film. In The Prisoner, we're rooting for the fighter against the law.

This film takes place in an unnamed Eastern European Communist nation in the 1950’s. Directed by

Peter Glenville with a screenplay by Bridget Boland (based on her own play), it tells the story of a Catholic Cardinal arrested for… well, for being a Catholic Cardinal. Or more precisely, for being a widely admired Cardinal in a nation where the government requires all admiration to go to the state.

Alec Guinness plays the Cardinal (he has no other name in the film) and we see him leading worship. But during the mass, he is shown a message, “Police here to arrest you.” The Cardinal doesn’t seem surprised by this at all. As the Mass ends, he is arrested. As he leaves the building, he tells one of the priests, “Any confession I am said to make in prison is a lie, or the result of human weakness.” He is then put in a car and taken away.

At the prison, a heckling jailer (Wilfrid Lawson) takes the Cardinal’s belongings: a watch, a bracelet, a cigarette tin, rosary beads, a ring, a jeweled cross. The jailer says, “That’s where the money goes, eh?” before taking the Cardinal's fingerprints. Then the Cardinal is allowed to wash his hands.

He next meets his inquisitor, known just as the Interrogator (Jack Hawkins). He gives the Cardinal some respect, “You are a prince of the Church. You fought in the Resistance.”

The Cardinal responds, “At least one was on the same side as all of one’s fellow countrymen.” We learn over the course of the film that the Cardinal was a great hero for fighting against the Nazis in World War II. He became beloved by the nation when they learned of his heroic deeds.

The Cardinal asks the Interrogator if there is “any particular plot” he is accused of being involved in, any plot “you hope to uncover?”

The Interrogator is honest in saying his problem with the Cardinal comes from the jealousy of the State, “You represent a religion that provides an organization outside the state. In your pulpit, you are more dangerous than a politician.”

The Cardinal asks if the goal is his destruction, and the Interrogator responds that the goal is for the Cardinal to be “defaced” because the Cardinal is an obstacle to complete domination by the state. He brings in a completed confession for the Cardinal to sign, “It will give us a starting point.”

The Cardinal responds, “Your masters are in a hurry...Those trying to make heaven on earth usually are.” The Cardinal refuses to sign, and he is sent to his cell, where he crosses himself and prays quietly. The jailer asks if the Cardinal is being difficult, and the Cardinal responds, “I hope so.”

The Cardinal asks the Interrogator if he plans to use “racks and thumbscrews,” but the Interrogator, a psychiatrist, tells the Cardinal torture is “outdated.” He is told that drugs won't be used, either. 

This perplexes the Cardinal, “No drugs, no torture, what do you hope for?” 

“A conversion," the Interrogator replies.

The Interrogator tells the Cardinal, “You are dangerous because you mislead the poor, the uneducated and the silly. But only because you are wrongheaded, and you can be cured… Stop thinking of me at the Inquisitor… Think of me as your doctor.”

The Cardinal responds, “God give me cunning against your skill. God keep my watch.”

The Interrogator asks, “If the church isn’t deliberately obstructing the state, are you willing to say it supports it?” 

The Cardinal answers, “It renders to the state the things that are the states and renders to God, the things that are God’s.”

God seems to answer that prayer, Three months go on without any progress in breaking the priest. He wonders if the task is hopeless because -- during the war -- the Gestapo tried to break him and were unable to do so. Then the Interrogator realizes that the Cardinal is genuinely a good man, so he must use that goodness against him.

He tells the Cardinal his pride is what is keeping him from confessing. He asks the Cardinal if he is proud. He does so realizing that a proud man might claim to be humble, but that a truly humble man will confess to pride. With this, and the discovery that the Cardinal had a difficult relationship with his mother, the Interrogator knows how to break him.

The Cardinal is broken, and he confesses in court to terrible things (which are not true). The Cardinal says he stole money from the church, that he told others secrets he heard in confession and that during the war he betrayed the Resistance to the Nazis. The people turn against the Cardinal.

The Cardinal believes he will then be executed. But the government commutes the death sentence. The Interrogator admits to the Cardinal it is because they don’t want him to be a martyr. But if kept in prison, he will be an enigma to the world. So the Cardinal is set free, which seems to be the worst outcome of all.

But the Interrogator resigns from his position because he realizes he really didn’t win. The Cardinal came in as a good man. He leaves broken, but still good.

This film reminded me of another film reviewed here at Movie Churches, Martin Scorsese’s Silence, based on historical events in 17th century Japan. Many Christians were tortured to the point where they denied their faith. But that doesn’t mean God is not faithful. As Paul wrote in II Timothy 2:13, “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.”

As the Cardinal said early the film, his confession might be due to “human weakness.” But that weakness doesn’t disprove God’s strength. As the Cardinal says, “Try not to judge the priesthood by the priest.”

But judging things is what we do here, and we will judge this priest, this Cardinal. Though he breaks, it is long after many of us would have broken. For those three steadfast months of opposition to the state, we give the Cardinal our highest rating of 4 Steeples.

Movie Missionary Month: Silence

Silence (2016)

I wonder if Martin Scorsese considered using this quote from Julie Roys (from her editorial in The Christian Post) for a promotional blurb for his film, Silence: “Though the film certainly has important redeeming qualities...it is deeply disturbing -- and potentially hazardous to one’s spiritual health.” Too wordy for a poster of course, so perhaps he could use just use “Hazardous to One’s Spiritual Health!”

I’m not about to discount the idea that films can have a negative effect on people. I’m always amused by people in the film industry who proudly proclaim that their pet project will make great inroads in social justice, further the causes of tolerance, justice, and truth -- and then deny that, say, a violent act might have been motivated by a film, because, after all, “It’s just a movie.”  Film, like all other art, can have an impact on the way we think, feel and, yes, our “spiritual health.”

Roys’ problem with Silence is that it presents a seemingly impossible moral and theological dilemma and doesn’t offer a solution (at least not, she writes, “a biblically viable one.”)

So I’m going to write about that dilemma; in order to do so, I’m going to have to reveal much of the plot of the film (based on historical events), so if you don’t want the film “spoiled” for you, read no further.

Silence is based on the 1966 novel by Japanese Catholic writer Shusaku Endo, which he based on historical events in 17th century Japan. The Catholic Church sent many Jesuit missionaries to Japan, and it is estimated that at one time there were as many as 300,000 Christians there. The government was not pleased with this and began a widespread persecution of the church.

The film opens with two young priests, Father Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Father Garupe (Adam Driver) being sent on a mission with a dual purpose: to minister to the persecuted faithful and to search for the missionary priest (and the young priests’ former mentor), Father Ferreira, who was no longer in communication with the Church.

Arriving in Japan, the priests are greeted warmly by faithful Catholics in a small village.  They hide the priests in a remote cabin and urge them to only come out at night. The village believers are thankful to have the priests to perform the sacraments, and they share with their scarce food and provisions with the priests.   

The authorities learn there are priests in the area, and thay take three villagers as hostages, threatening their lives unless the priests are turned over. The authorities also force those in the village to renounce their Christian faith, asking all to step on an image of Christ and some to spit on a cross.

Rodrigues and Garupe disagree on how believers should deal with such persecution. Garupe argues the believers should not compromise in their faith in any way, whereas Rodrigues argues it’s not worth losing one’s life for not desecrating something that is, after all, just an image. “Trample, trample,” he urges believers asked to step on the image of Christ.

The priest flee in hope of bringing relief to the village, but the persecution continues.

The priests split up, but eventually Rodrigues is captured and turned over to the Inquisitor. Rodrigues tells the man that even if he is tortured and killed, he will not renounce his faith. The Inquisitor agrees with Rodrigues that this is probably true, he probably could endure much torture for himself. They tried that on priests before, “but we have learned from our mistakes.”

He tells the Rodrigues that instead, he must watch other Christian believers tortured for their faith.

The Inquisitor tells Rodrigues that if he is a good priest, he will renounce his faith to save his flock from further persecution. He argues that if the priest clings to his faith to the detriment of his people, he is a bad priest. This is the impossible moral quandary that Roys bemoaned. It reminded me of Paul’s desire to save the Jewish people (“For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my people, those of my own race.”)

Rodrigues learns that Garupe has been captured as well and given the same options. But Garupe chooses to die, seeking to rescue a believer being drown in the sea, he drowns himself.

The film presents many images of Christians dying courageous deaths, at times singing praise to God in their deaths. (The authorities of the time practiced a wide variety of creative means for torture and death and many of these gruesome means are portrayed in the film.)

Rodrigues is then presented with a special visitor, Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson), who has indeed turned apostate, renouncing his faith after many sessions of torture and after watching scores of others tortured and killed for their Christian faith. (It’s worth noting that often the Japanese believers were tortured and killed even after they renounced their faith.) Ferreira has even gone so far as to write a scholarly work (in Japanese) to present the Christian Gospel as  a wicked deception.

Eventually, Rodrigues too renounces his faith. He takes a Japanese wife, the widow of a Christian martyred for his fatih. He joins Ferreira in the work of examining imports to Japan to prevent Christian words or images from entering the country. He is regularly required to renounce the Christian faith. And eventually he dies, the last Christian priest in Japan at a time when it seems the church itself in Japan is dead.

This is certainly a different kind of story than what is typically presented by Christian filmmakers where not only does everyone become a Christian, but the Christians win “the big game” at the end.

So does it harm a Christian’s faith to consider the choices faced by believers of other times and places? Especially to consider those who choose to deny Christ when Jesus said in Matthew 10:33 “whoever disowns Me before men, I will disown before the father in heaven?”

I don’t think so. My favorite character in the film is the man who serves as a guide for the priests at the beginning of their journey. Kichijiro is a drunk and a traitor. He at times denies he is a Christian and at other times admits that he believes. We learn that he betrayed his own family of Christian believers, and, in time, he betrays the priests.  But he also continually returns to the priests asking for an opportunity for confession and forgiveness. I don’t know if Kichijiro ever reaches the 7 times 70 limit of requests for forgiveness, but he seems to press it.

At one point in the film, he says, “Why couldn’t I have been born in a time without persecution?” Those of us who live in times and places of great freedom should consider the blessings we have and consider how we make compromises under much less pressure.

And we should consider what I think Endo ultimately suggests in his work, that God is not silent, He suffers alongside both the martyrs and the apostates.

Scorsese dedicates his film “For the Japanese Christians and their pastors,” adding the words “Ad majorem Dei gloriam” which is the motto of the Jesuits, “For the greater glory of God.” Though the Inquisitor in the film argues that Japan is a swamp in which the Christian Gospel can never take root, the church in Japan endures.

So giving a Steeple rating is difficult for this film. The Apostate Priests probably would rather not be given any steeples. But for the martyrs of the Church in Japan, we give Four Steeples.

Exorcism Movies -- The Exorcist

It’s interesting how some films are viewed by some people as a great work of art and by others as a piece of trash. For instance, Ernest Scared Stupid comes to mind.

I was just kidding. No one would doubt that was Jim Varney’s masterpiece.

Anyway, when issues of faith are added to the mix, arguments over the films become even more heated. Some films, such as Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ and Monty Python’s Life of Brian, were picketed by Christian groups when they were released -- even though the film’s creators seemed to genuinely believe their films were positive representations of the Christian faith.

I was a kid when The Exorcist came out in 1973, and there was no way my parents would let me get near the film. But I remember the controversy of the time. People were terrified, and there were rumors of people passing out in theaters, having strokes and heart attacks. The story of priests who battle demons inside a little girl was certainly not anything that was considered proper viewing for people in my church.

But my brother was going to Princeton Seminary at the time, and he came back to California to work at Yosemite National Park. He brought with him a friend who was also attending Princeton and who would also be working at Yosemite for the summer. She brought with her a paperback of William Peter Blatty's novel, The Exorcist. (Blatty also wrote the screenplay for the film.) I was surprised to hear her argue that the story was a very Christian one.

Blatty himself believes he told a Christian story. He felt the violence, the foul and blasphemous language, and even the crude sexual imagery involving a young girl were necessary to show the contrast between the evil in this world and God’s grace. William Friedkin, the director of the film, says that he thought he was telling a story of the mystery of faith, rather than a horror movie. (He has come to accept it is a horror movie. He also says he has come to believe in the existence of evil and God since he made the film.)

I believe that the perspective of the film is a Christian perspective. The question for a Christian is whether watching a film with such vile content could ever be worthwhile.

Fortunately, we don’t have to deal with such difficult questions here at Movie Churches. We just look at how clergy and churches are presented in a film and evaluate how many steeples they earn.

The Roman Catholic Church in the film is presented as the only Christian organization that believes in demonic possession and exorcism. (In fact, many Protestant denominations, especially those of the charismatic and Pentecostal variety, are even more obsessed with such things.) But the Catholic Church is presented as being embarrassed about their own beliefs about demons.

Linda Blair plays Regan, the demon possessed girl; Ellen Burstyn plays Chris, Regan’s mother. Chris protests that she has no religious beliefs of her own, but she goes to the church as a last resort to help her daughter.  The New Testament has many stories of parents coming to Jesus in desperation to heal their children, and Chris would have fit right in with those stories.

There are three priest presented in the film. There is Father Dyer (played by William O’Malley) who does not get involved in the exorcism. He seems to prefer going to swanky Georgetown cocktail parties and hanging out with the rich and famous. He says his idea of heaven is a party where he can play the piano and sing standards to the entertainment of the heavenly crowds. Father Dyer does not raise the clergy Steeple Rating in the film very high.

Father Merrin (played by Max von Sydow) is an older priest who has battled demons through the years. It has taken a toll on his health, but he continues to fight the good fight.

But the story is really about Father Karras (played by Jason Miller). He is a man battling doubt before he ever encounters Regan. He’s not only a priest but also a psychiatrist, and he initially dismisses the idea of demonic possession as misdiagnosed psychiatric problems. His mother’s decline into poverty, illness, and eventually death is bringing him to doubt his faith.

We see Karras in various situations, in a subway passing a beggar (“Father, would you help an old altar boy, I’m a Catholic”) and passing by mentally ill women in the asylum where his mother is housed, showing no compassion to those in need. He doesn’t even stop to talk to these hurting people.

After encountering Regan, he begins to change. The demons within the girl mock Karras, telling him his mother is in hell and pelting him with obscenity and blasphemy.  But with the help of Father Merrin, he continues to fight for the girl, using Catholic rituals and Scripture. The Trinity and the blood of Christ are often cited by the priests as the source of power.

Ultimately, Father Karras is willing to give up his own life for Regan’s sake (“Take me!”), a reflection of Christ’s sacrifice.

So a worthy finish gives the church and the priests of The Exorcist three out of four steeples.

Literary Churches -- Journal d'un Curé de Campagne (The Diary of a Country Priest)

Paul wrote to Titus, a man he’d sent to work in the churches in Crete, “Do not let anyone despise you” (Titus 2:15). I’ve often wondered how anyone can be responsible for the attitudes of others. How can you keep other people from despising you? I guess a place to start would be not to behave like the young cleric of Ambricourt in Robert Bresson’s classic 1951 film, The Diary of a Country Priest.

This French film was acclaimed in its time (winning the Venice Film Festival along with other prestigious international awards) and is still highly regarded in the filmmaking and critical community. But if you’ve been here before, you know the drill. We aren’t here to judge the film, but rather the church and clergy in the film.

Admittedly, the Young Priest Without a Name has challenges coming into his first parish in a small town. The town seems set against him sight unseen. There was a prickly situation in much of Europe for the last couple of centuries where people had to financially support the church whether they liked it or not. That alone might make me want to give such a church a thumbs down. But the young priest makes a bad situation worse.

There’s a bit of pastoral advice I’ve received that might seem old fashioned.  For a clergyman (yes, clergyman), don’t be alone with a woman (or girl). I know Billy Graham followed this advice through his ministry, and the priest in the film would have been much better off if he followed it, even though he is never accused of sexual impropriety.

Early in the film we see the priest teaching a catechism class of young girls (one of the few times in the film we see him doing any actual ministry). The girls conspire to pretend that all but one of the girls is ignorant about the Lord’s Supper. When the priest asks the one girl to stay behind after class, he soon discovers it was a plot to mock him. He falls for it completely.  He is widely derided for his lack of social skills. Social skills are kind of helpful skills for ministry.

In his parish, there is also a delicate situation involving a power couple, a count and countess. Their daughter suspects her father is unfaithful to her mother. The priest meets with the teenage daughter alone and later with the countess alone. Both situations lead to rumors of the priest giving harsh council. Because the priest put himself in one person’s word against another situations, he has no way to combat the rumors.

Sadly, the priest also has health problems.  He has a weak stomach and can’t each much. He seems to be taking the council of Paul in I Timothy 5:23 of drinking wine for his stomach. But when people only see him drinking wine and eating bread soaked in wine, they assume he’s a drunkard. It doesn’t help he never tells anyone about his health problems (spoiler – he has stomach cancer).

His biggest problem as a pastor – he says he can’t pray. Now, even Mother Teresa admitted to dark nights of the soul, but she kept praying. This guy confesses -- often --  that he can’t pray, which is sort of his main job.

You really have to wonder if a guy is a great pastor when Martin Scorsese says that he was a model for Travis Bickle in the film Taxi Driver (you know, the guy who talks to a mirror while holding a gun and saying, “You talking to me?”)

Toward the end of the priest’s life, he does come up with a pretty profound theological realization, “All is grace.” Just too bad he never figures out a way to share God’s grace with other people. Two steeples to the church in this film.