When I am invited to give a lecture on film, I often make the claim that “A Man for All Seasons” is a perfect film. What I mean is that everything in the film “works” to produce a nearly perfect film — a film that is truly a masterpiece.

In the July-August issue of Commonweal magazine, there was an essay about film, entitled “All Things Shining,” that may be the best essay on film that I have ever read. It was written by Martin Woessner, a professor of history and society at the City College of New York City (CUNY) Center for Worker Education.

I think that before studying the philosophy of Jean Paul Sartre (1905-1981), I would never have guessed that the philosophy of the most famous existentialist, indeed the most famous atheistic existentialist, would have helped me in reflecting on the mystery of God. 

Like many influential atheistic philosophers, Karl Marx had some insights that can be accepted by thinkers who believe in God.

As I am reviewing some of the atheistic philosophies that I have taught in a course at St. John’s University, I am very aware of what I have tried to draw from the influential atheists, even though I disagree with their vision of reality. I am always looking for insights that the atheists might have that might help me and my students deepen and broaden our view of God.

Last spring, I taught a philosophy course at St. John’s University that had the awful title of “The Problem of God.” I have taught the course several times. It should have been called “The Mystery of God,” but that title is also used for a course in theology, and at St. John’s, two courses with the same title are not permitted.

For several reasons, I recently began to re-read sections of Father Ron Rolheiser’s spiritual classic, “Sacred Fire: A Vision for a Deeper Human and Christian Maturity.” Probably the main reason I began to re-read some of Rolheiser’s beautiful comments on prayer was that I did not wish to allow my experience of praying to become a thoughtless routine. Perhaps many of us have to work against that happening to our prayers.

Recently, some of my friends have been urging me to return to the film festival program I conducted at what was then the Cathedral College of the Immaculate Conception in Douglaston. Over a period of perhaps 15 years, I may have shown as many as 100 classic films. I may revive the program in some parish, and if I do, I will use this column to alert people who might be interested.

In last week’s column, I tried to show how artistic classics can enrich our lives and make our lives more beautiful. This week, I wish to suggest that nothing has the power to enrich our lives and make them more beautiful than Christian faith has. Each of us is writing his or her own story.

Works of art are described as classics because they reveal the truth, beauty, and goodness of reality in a special way. They transcend the period in which they were created and “speak” to 15 ages. I cannot recall ever reading a book on a time schedule, for example, 15 minutes each day, but putting a time limit on my reading seems to focus my attention.