In his careful consideration of his subjects, Beauvois shows compassion and respect for all of the characters and cultures involved—the monks, the community they served, even the enemies that the monks remembered in their prayers.

Furthermore, by drawing our attention to the call that these men answered, Beauvois invites us to marvel at a faith that leads men to pray for those who persecute them.

This is a much more poignant picture of the Gospel than those we’ve seen offered by zealous evangelical filmmakers. Jesus invites us to follow his example and to lay down our lives for one another. He does not call us to take up arms and lead a violent revolution, to paint our faces and slay our enemies in the pursuit of vengeance or happiness. The Gospel is not a recipe for winning wars or football championships, or for getting miraculous answers to prayer. It is a matter of meekness, humility, service, and quiet sacrifice. If there is any glory, it goes to God, not to his servants.

That’s why it’s such a rare thing to see the Gospel represented fairly on the screen: It’s the antithesis of engaging entertainment. It just isn’t sexy. The nine men in the centre of this film aren’t soldiers, football players, firemen, or cops. They’re not even particularly muscular. They never handle guns. The only fight they engage is a fight against their own weaknesses.

In mainstream evangelical culture right now, there is a movement to amplify a certain vision of masculinity, and a trend toward repressing and even mocking what is described as “effeminate” Christian behaviour. What the Tibhirine monks do in this film is far from the prevailing conception of “manly” work. They provide medicine and footwear for the local Muslim population. They cook meals. They make honey. They tend to cuts and bruises and even perform surgeries. They offer friendly, personal, humble counsel where it will be heard. They sing.

And their good deeds are not offered as bait to lure people in toward a sales pitch. Their actions speak louder than any sermon.

They’re so humble, I can’t even remember their names.