Like lambs to the slaughter; the monks choose to stay and not to flee. In a moral deadlock and entrapped in political violence they know that they are paying for their fathers’ sins. The stress of watching is unbearable. “There comes the moment when you have to say the big Yes or the big No”. The monks know that there shouldn’t even be a question.
Rejecting martyrdom for their faith they embrace death for the sake of their community work. “We are the birds and you are the branch” proclaims one of the village women and both the elders and the villagers know at that moment that Man has killed God.
Tchaikovsky sounds their requiem while they sip their last wine. And we weep for them, for we weep for Man.
Miserere.
other info:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1588337/
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/of_gods_and_men/
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