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Lifer
Article is easier to read on the SF Chronicle website.
I find the article interesting. The Chronicle has been running this series for a few months now and I've really been enjoying it. They've interviewed some very intelligent people and some complete dimwits (notably, the woman who basically said she didn't care or think about anything that didn't directly impact her) and I think this woman is one of the more articulate and thoughtful of their interviews so far.
I do have to admit that my favorite line in the article is, "Religion is no longer the opiate of the people -- self-righteous indignation is." It strikes me as very true.
An agnostic filmmaker explores her relationship with conservative Christian parents in her film,'The Greatest Commandment Is to Love'
The clash between religious and secular people continues to play out publicly on the national and world stage. But for some this separation is a very personal one.
Liberal, agnostic filmmaker Amy Gattie was raised by conservative Christian parents. She explores this experience in her new film, "The Greatest Commandment Is to Love," which documents mission relief trips to Kosovo that she took with her parents over several years. In the film, Gattie questions the morality of missionaries visiting a region with such a bloody history of forced conversions and ethnic conflict, but along the way she also makes some interesting discoveries about the nature of love, compassion and friendship that transcend specific belief systems.
Originally from Minneapolis, Gattie has lived and worked around the world. She has an MFA from California College of the Arts and lives in the Bay Area, where she's a photographic stylist of beds for Pottery Barn. "The Greatest Commandment Is to Love" is her first documentary. Gattie spoke with me last week by phone from her home in San Francisco.
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You accompanied your parents on several missionary trips to Kosovo, although unlike them you're not Christian. Why did you decide to go, and why make a film about it?
I had been to Croatia and Bosnia right after their war with the Serbs and had seen the destruction up close -- both the physical and the emotional destruction. And the mission trip seemed like a good way to get involved and help.
But I would say that the main impetus for the film was my mixed feelings about my parents' strong Christian beliefs. On the one hand, I found their beliefs to be narrow and constraining and too judgmental, and on the other hand, I honestly felt like they walked their talk and that they were good people. They've always made helping people a priority, and I have a deep respect for that.
The area you visited has a horrible history of religious conflict. How were you received by the locals, who are mostly Muslim?
While religion is an issue in Kosovo, it isn't at the forefront of people's minds. It is more of a tool used by people for political ends rather than an end in itself. The Kosovo Albanians were open to talking about Christianity but often because it allied them with the United States and Europe. I felt like what really was at stake there was power, and religion really wasn't shaping the power as much as the politics involved were. I think a big part of why we were welcomed was because we were American and Americans led the NATO intervention. There is a big boulevard in the capital, Pristina, that is named after Bill Clinton.
In the film, your mother says before she leaves on the trip that she's not going to Kosovo to convert people, just to give them her perspective on Christianity. Did you believe her?
Not really. I was suspicious because I know how important the Christian faith is to my parents. I know that they spent a lot of time trying to convert me growing up. But at the same time, it was something we stopped talking about at a certain point.
They don't try to convert me anymore, and they stopped making me go to church when I graduated from high school. So I wasn't really sure how important conversion was to them, like if it was a deal breaker. Because they stopped trying to convert me, and I'm their daughter.
But why else would they be going other than conversion? That is the goal, isn't it?
I think that there are multiple passages in the Bible that say that one of the great commissions is to go out and tell people about Jesus. But there is also the commandment to go out and love people and nurture them as Jesus did. So I don't know that you could necessarily say that one of those is more important than the other and that they aren't connected.
What were the missionaries doing there to help the local people, exactly? And did they help them, do you think?
They did a lot of little things, like giving away Palm Pilots in the schools and teaching people English. They also gave money to five widows with large families. With unemployment at very high levels in Kosovo, it's particularly hard for the women because most of the jobs go to men.
But, to me, the most important accomplishment of the mission group is the friendships and the relationships. Rick and Mary [two missionaries] in particular have shown a deep, consistent commitment to the people we know there. Being a good friend to people and caring about their lives and how they're doing in a country torn apart by war and hatred is important.
We haven't been damaged by war the way they've been, and so to care about them and be their friends does make a difference. Kymeta, a teacher, says this at the end of the film, and maybe it's easier for them to see the value of something like friendship than it is for us in our land of peace and prosperity. Well, relative peace. Nobody's waging war on our soil.
And you feel that was helpful?
Rick says at the beginning of the film that he understands love because he has been loved unconditionally by God. I agree with him that we are able to love other people because we are loved or have experienced being loved in general. It doesn't have to be by God, you know, if you're an atheist or whatever. But to have someone love you, to be on the receiving end of love, helps us love others and put it back out in the world.
But it's frustrating to me that we don't have a collective way of understanding the practical value of things like care and friendship. Because I think these things are elemental for a civil society, regardless of what your faith or lack of faith is.
But they also were cared about because the people coming there -- the missionaries -- were hoping they'd turn them into Christians, right?
Honestly, one of my biggest frustrations about showing my film, or even talking about my film to liberal secular audiences, is how quick they are to focus on how what the Christians are doing is wrong. Yes, the drive to convert people is problematic, but it isn't the only thing our group does. There are a lot of good things as well.
And I ask several Kosovar Albanians point-blank if they think missionaries trying to convert them is a problem. They say no, and Rexep [an Albanian] in particular is very clear that he will never become a Christian and that is not a problem between him and the missionaries. Yet people here are so caught up in their dislike for Christians and Christianity that all they can focus on how awful it is that they try to convert people. They're basically saying their disapproval of Christians is more important than helping these people who clearly need it.
It's ironic that the Kosovar Albanians -- who supposedly come from a place full of religious conflict -- are more tolerant of American Christians than many Americans. But unfortunately for me, this point seems to be lost on most of my audience, despite my best efforts.
I guess when people say Christians are forcing their religion on the Kosovar Albanians that "force" is a relative term. Handing somebody a videotape about Jesus along with some cash probably seems manageable compared to being forced to leave your home and country at gunpoint.
But didn't you say you had a problem with your parents trying to convert you when you were growing up?
Definitely, my parents' narrow-minded beliefs were a problem for me growing up. But living in the Bay Area, I find myself in a situation where people are equally as narrow minded, just in the exact opposite way as my parents. Self-righteousness is no less annoying just because it's secular. Nor is it any less idiotic.
You grew up in a very conservative Christian family, but you turned out liberal and nonreligious. Why do you think you ended up so different?
I actually don't think I'm that different than my parents. And I think that although we don't believe the exact same things, that my beliefs and what is important to me [are] still very much shaped by them and the way they live their lives. The point of my film, in the end, isn't to focus on how different we are, but on what ways we are alike. Both in good ways and bad.
In the film, you confront them about their beliefs and accuse them of being judgmental because you're not a Christian. What happened in that conversation?
I realized in confronting them and hearing how they responded that I was actually the one being judgmental. I was so set on pointing out the ways their beliefs and values were narrow-minded that I failed to see that they were far more comfortable with the paradox of loving somebody despite differences and faults than I was. I was hoping that in the film people would see that even if they don't agree with my parents' beliefs or their desire to convert people, that at a minimum they would still be able to see them as good people and loving parents.
Being loved unconditionally despite all your mistakes and shortcomings is a fundamental aspect of Christianity, and I think I understand better now how their faith helps them live that paradox. I just wish there was a secular way to talk about this paradox. One that didn't have to result in some sort of conversion or religious practice. Or therapy.
What spiritual life, if any, do you have these days?
I think I came away from making this film with a deeper understanding of how loving people who are different from you needs to work. Or maybe it was a deeper experience of how love works and understanding what it means to respect people.
I guess that's my spiritual practice -- with a heavy emphasis on the practice part. There's plenty of room for improvement, that's for sure. Every once in a while I delude myself into thinking I'm a calm, loving person, only to soon find myself stuck in traffic and swearing like a sailor.
One of the big issues you are grappling with in the film is whether people can share love and compassion with one another if they don't share the same core beliefs. What do you think about that now?
You would think that we can all agree that we're all the same deep down, but that's just a starting point for a lot of serious, practical, day-to-day problems with how we're going to relate to each other and get along with each other. I think we need to get our stories straight about what's really important -- not about who's right and who's wrong necessarily, but more like who are good people and what is it about them that makes them good? That's actually a more interesting question than it appears on the surface, and more to the point.
Did making this film change your relationship with your parents at all?
Yes and no. I feel like it's better now that we've had a chance to discuss some of these issues up front -- like which is more important, the fact that I'm your daughter or the fact that I'm not a Christian? The conversation isn't finished. It may never be reconciled. But somehow coming to that conclusion after getting it out in the open makes it all easier. And I know that no matter what, they love me and I love them.
As you point out, there is a continuing divide, not just in this country but around the world, between religious and secular people. What do you think can be done about that?
Both Christianity and liberal democracy share the idea that every person is equal and worthy of respect regardless of their social status. What they don't share is their reasoning for why people are equal and worthy of respect, and this seems to me to be the heart of the issue.
If we agree that all people deserve to be treated with respect, then the real issue is, how did we arrive at that understanding? Sort of the good news and the bad news about Christianity is that their beliefs are very simple and easily understandable. On the other hand, it's a kind of cliche for educated liberals to not talk about how they arrived at their viewpoints, because the burden of modern epistemology is too much. I think people who consider themselves secular liberals should do a better job articulating why they believe what they believe, especially if they want to claim intellectual superiority to Christians.
And also I think in our frustration with the evils of the world we try to distance ourselves from the things we disagree with, and in doing so we isolate ourselves not only from what we don't like in other people but also from what is good about them.
In that sense, I think religion is no longer the opiate of the people -- self-righteous indignation is. Because self-righteous indignation keeps us from seeing unexpected good things in people we might otherwise disagree with. And that cuts both ways: Both religious and secular people are self-righteous about their truths.
To that end, I think we need to keep in mind that none of us are beyond reproach. We all make mistakes and have faults. Understanding that we are the same -- in the sense that we share responsibility for both the beautiful, loving parts of the world as well as its evils and faults -- is fundamental to just being a person.
I find the article interesting. The Chronicle has been running this series for a few months now and I've really been enjoying it. They've interviewed some very intelligent people and some complete dimwits (notably, the woman who basically said she didn't care or think about anything that didn't directly impact her) and I think this woman is one of the more articulate and thoughtful of their interviews so far.
I do have to admit that my favorite line in the article is, "Religion is no longer the opiate of the people -- self-righteous indignation is." It strikes me as very true.
