By Cordelia Fitzgerald (Rated G)
Considering the extremely large amount of visual entertainment available, it is understandable that old movies occasionally fall by the wayside, especially the more obscure ones. The particular film I’m considering today is somewhere in the middle – old, and popular among some circles, but virtually unknown in others. Lilies of the Field is a modest film with a comparatively small cast, simple plot, and a light load of English dialogue. Homer Smith, a traveling handyman, finds himself employed by some German nuns with a dubious revenue stream and consequently becomes invested in their (or rather, the Mother Superior’s) dream, which turns out to be the basis of the story. Again, it is a simple film – but it is a battle of wills.
Three characters of varying appearance in the film have their own conversions, forwarding a subtle study on pride and cynicism. These vices appear, in different combinations, between the three, and must be first recognized and secondly conquered. The movie leaves us wondering if quite everyone succeeds entirely, but two of these fellow pilgrims share an obstacle that is well worth studying. (First, please watch it, as it is well done, and is, moreover, quite ecumenical: there are Catholics and … Baptist. But the Baptist is a main character!)
One character longs to be serving God in grand cities and rich parishes away from the banalities of sinners needing sacraments – so many sacraments! – on a regular basis. Another longs to build something, something real, with his own hands. Each wants something tangible, large, noticeable – to leave his mark on society. Neither includes God too much in his calculations, and the plans suffer accordingly. The story is punctuated by their struggles to continue this solitary ambition, and though beautifully coated in a delightful movie, it stings nonetheless, since this struggle is experienced, I believe, by most of mankind. The story is prescient and striking in the starkness of its depiction of that struggle.
Humans long to feel loved, to believe that they are making a difference, and to see the result of their efforts (as a strong, lasting, beautiful building!), with God as a wonderfully helpful cheerleader. It sounds rather like a familiar Old Testament Story, doesn’t it? And yet another Tower of Babel is constantly being erected by men as soon as God has knocked the last one down. No one in the beginning of the movie has his tower, and the only one who believes that she will get it is Mother Maria. Her faith that it will come is so strong as to seem impenetrable at the outset, but is it, perhaps, actually pride that sustains her rather than faith? Does she get her tower? Watch and find out! But, at the end of the movie, whether in physical fact or distant imagination, this edifice still exists strongly for Mother, and there is a hint that her heart has softened, but we are never told outright.
Such is life – we will not know the ending of anyone else’s story. The beginning of this one, however, remains relevant to us. In one way or another, each character had his tower knocked down, and we are privy to their responses: who rebuilds, who perseveres in faith, who checks its foundation… The lens is set closely. That unapologetic laser focus is the beauty of some of these old films; in a simple, quiet, delightful environment we are given the room to contemplate ourselves, under the guise of funny, cranky, idiosyncratic characters. May we, too, learn our lesson!
LogoSophia Magazine 
Well said! Thank you!
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