The biopic “A Man Called Peter” was adapted from the biography of the same name about Rev. Peter Marshall, authored by his wife, Catherine.
From humble beginnings in early 20th-century Scotland, Peter Marshall (Richard Todd) dedicates his life to God and eventually earns ministerial stardom in 1940s America. He preaches in Georgia before moving with bride Catherine (Jean Peters) to Washington. There, he leads services at the hallowed New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, historically frequented by the likes of Abraham Lincoln.
Peter’s sermons prove transformative, whether he’s turning apathetic parishioners into devout ones, inspiring U.S. soldiers, or shepherding senators as chaplain of the U.S. Senate. Against the odds, he finds ways to reach his flock, overcome his doubts, help Catherine beat tuberculosis, and be a role model to pre-teen son Peter John Marshall (Billy Chapin).
Yes, the film features Peter’s many sermons, but the best demonstration of the power of his persuasion comes from someone else: Catherine. She’s one of the first admirers of his moral crusade, in the church and outside of it.
He recruits her while she’s still in college, even before they’re married, to help rally locals against bootleggers who’re corrupting young people. Watch her soft, steely speech, delivered while standing on the back of a pickup truck.
To Catherine, the dignity unique to womanhood isn’t something feminism invented in the 20th century; it dates back centuries. She recalls the christological origins that gave Mary and her motherhood a decisive role in the salvation story, a glory which she deemed had never been accorded to another human being before or after.
That led generations of men to want to revere, protect, and provide for women, thinking of them as more sacred than themselves, “made of finer, more delicate clay.”
Sarcastically, Catherine continues. It took the 20th century’s “progress” to dethrone that exalted idea of a woman in the name of “equality.” For now, having “won” a man’s “privileges,” a woman too has the “right” to get drunk, smoke, swear, work, dress, and act like a man.
Catherine asks women in the audience whether this is a victory at all: “How can we feel triumphant, when men no longer feel as romantic about us as they did about our grandmothers, when we’ve lost something sweet and mysterious?”
Loose Living
Stirred by Peter’s austere moral code, Catherine indicts loose living. As Peter later warns, it’s not just individual human beings but entire nations which weaken when their moral fiber is compromised.
Freedom, Peter says, is not the right “to do as we please” but the opportunity “to do what is right.” He prays, “To Thee, who are the author of our liberty, and under whom we have our freedom.”
No, freedom is not an absolute right. It’s a derived, conditional right whose enjoyment must hinge on how responsibly it’s used.
Peter salutes Christ’s inclusiveness, but that needs a qualifier. Christ loved the sinner, never the sin. He embraced sinners but sternly rebuked their sinful ideologies.
God never stops working miracles; faith merely helps us better experience and acknowledge them.
Peter realizes this when, wracked by emptiness, he questions his motives and his ego but eventually accepts how helpless he is without God. Battling tuberculosis, Catherine accepts God’s will unreservedly. In both cases, what happens next is less important than how blessed they feel when bowing to God.
The miracle isn’t so much what comes after faith; it is faith itself.
Furthermore, faith is impossible without humility. Faith is a bowing down before a rising up and a surrender of our very selves to God.
Only by being far enough downstream is it possible to receive water from a mountain spring. Only by bowing do we reach the heights God would have us ascend.
Gift of Faith
How do we receive this gift of faith?
Peter’s life recommends cultivating intimacy with God through Scripture, prayer, reflection, and humble, rigorous personal transformation.
Here, the transistor figures often. There’s a point to it. The farther a communication tower is from a radio, the more its signal is disrupted, even blocked. Humility simulates proximity to God. As an amplification tower boosts signals, it neutralizes great distances. Peter senses this when he suddenly struggles to hear God’s voice, which he’d grown accustomed to hearing as a young man.
Peter imitates his namesake, the apostle Peter; he’s as flawed as the next man but always trying to do better and be better.
Check the Internet Movie Database website for plot summary, cast, reviews, and ratings. You can watch “A Man Called Peter” on YouTube and DVD.
These reflective articles may interest parents, caretakers, or educators of young adults, seeking great movies to watch together or recommend. They’re about films that, when viewed thoughtfully, nudge young people to be better versions of themselves.
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