It is a pity that the world has lost all sense of God.

• Carthusian Monk, “Into Great Silence”

Into Great Silence is not a film one watches, it is an experience into which one enters. It is an immersion in the contemplative life.

It is seasons passing, the sound of snow falling, the buzzing of flies. It is daily prayer, alone in one’s cell: sitting, kneeling, bowing, with books opened and closed, in complete silence or murmuring softly. It is eating alone, lifting homemade soup to one’s lips with a wooden spoon, breaking homemade bread with ones’ fingers. It is feeling the actual passing of time, like watching a slow moving train. It is the red glow of a single candle and the groans of creaking wood as hooded men kneel and rise and take their seats in the surrounding darkness. It is mesmerizing chant deep into the night.

It is also the rhythm of daily work. Measuring, sawing, and chopping of firewood. Chopping of celery, brilliant green against the bare stone kitchen counter and walls, scooped into a pot for soup. It is wheeling the food cart through the arched corridors, a key creaking open the access port of each cell, a silent messenger leaving bread and drink and salad before rumbling on. It is the buzz of the clippers in the barber shop, clumps of hair falling to the floor, a soft brush sweeping away stray leavings from the shorn monk’s head. Cats must be fed, seeds planted and gardens tended. Water lines checked out in the woods. Herds moved to new pastures, their cowbells mimicking the call to prayer. Most of this work is done by solitary workmen. Most is accomplished in complete silence.

Sundays are different. The community gathers and there is a meal together, during which the rules of the Carthusian Order are read and reinforced. Then, the monks take a long hike of approximately four hours known as “the spaciement” for refreshment and exercise amid the beauties of nature. Here they may talk and get to know one another. On one such walk in winter, the film portrays them giddily sliding in the snow down a magnificent Alpine mountainside. It is a rare moment of hilarity and laughter.

Throughout “Into Great Silence,” the filmmaker, Philip Gröning, composes portrait shots of the monks. Each stands still, looking directly into the camera. Some are more comfortable with this than others. We look into their eyes. We see the hints of smiles. We trace the lines on their faces. They are like us. But they are unlike us. We do not know their names. Their personal stories are a mystery. We know nothing of their motivations, their feelings, their opinions. There is no plot to their lives, it seems, no drama. Just the passing of days, the subtle balance of solitude and community, and most of all, the silence. The only monk who speaks tells how he came to accept blindness as God’s gift for the good of his soul.

With all this spareness, the film is remarkably sensuous. I doubt I have ever heard the snow fall as I did against the backdrop of silence. A thunderstorm never sounded more like a symphony. Footsteps rarely pique my interest as they did in this film. The Alpine setting is stunning enough; Gröning’s cinematography makes each detail live, from the ecstasy of spring crocuses to modern art impressions in puddles. Soup appeared a feast.

You will not find anything fashionable, not even a concern for being different.

• Carthusian Order website

La Grande Chartreuse is the mother house for the Carthusian Order of contemplative Catholic monks, the sons and daughters of St. Bruno (founded in 1084). They are known as the Catholic Church’s most ascetic religious order. Each monk (or nun in the women’s order) lives in a “hermitage,” or cell, and spends most of each day in solitary prayer or work. The community also meets three times a day for corporate prayer and worship: morning mass, late afternoon vespers, Matins and Lauds in the middle of the night. On Sundays, they partake of a meal together and then enjoy a hike in which they may talk freely. Monks are only allowed to see their families on two days of each year, and otherwise have little or no contact with the outside world.

In 1984, filmmaker Gröning contacted La Grande Chartreuse and requested permission to film at the monastery. He was told they were not ready and that he should wait perhaps 10-13 years. It was not until 16 years later that they told him the time was right. After five more years of filming and editing, “Into Great Silence” was released. During the making of the film, Gröning went into the monastery himself, and filmed with natural light, becoming part of the monks’ daily life and ritual.

The quote that appears repeatedly throughout the film is from Jeremiah 20:7 —“Oh Lord, you have seduced me, and I have been seduced.” “Into Great Silence” is a seductive experience, breaking down the viewer’s reluctance, creating a sense of longing in the spirit. As I watched, my mind kept raising objections. This is too hard. Who could do this for a lifetime? I would go crazy! And I’m sure I would.

One must have a specific calling to do this kind of work, for work it is. The Carthusians see themselves as the “heart” of the church and its mission in the world. As our hearts beat steadily, quietly, hidden deep within our chests, so these monks, hidden away in the French Alps, maintain a rhythmic pulse of solitude and community, prayer and work, day after day after day, pumping oxygenated (Spirit-filled) life invisibly throughout the world.

Who can tell what we owe them?

Thanks to Philip Gröning, we can at least begin to appreciate them and be comforted by their silent, lifegiving ministry.

More: You may watch the trailer for “Into Great Silence” here.