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Also—and Christians have this in common with other faith traditions, as well—we don't approach forgiveness as something that's good for "number one." Sure, it may be able to reduce your blood pressure and your heart rate; that's what science looks at; it's good for you, so do it. But I think the faith traditions, which have a sense of social responsibility, see forgiveness as a way to transform the culture.

There's another moment in the film when Elie Wiesel is talking about a prayer he composed after his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp. He said, "God of mercy, have no mercy on these souls. God of compassion, have no compassion on these murderers of children." I've heard similar sentiments from Americans referring to Islamic terrorist groups, such as Al Quaida. From your experience making this film, what would you say to those people?

Elie Wiesel talks about forgiveness from a Jewish perspective

Doblmeier: I think that kind of response really is a reflection of your own anger, and how you respond to that moment. I come from a tradition that says we need to be open to the possibility of forgiveness even at the deepest and most painful level.

And so, while one side of me wants to understand how it's possible to feel that I can never forgive, I'm not sure whether that's the healthiest way to be. I'm not sure if it's good for you, first of all, or whether holding on to that anger in the end would be corrosive to yourself.

In your work with Journey Films, you've spoken with a lot of high-influence individuals—Nobel laureates, heads of state, religious leaders. Was it different in this film to be talking with a lot of "ordinary" people who have been the victims of extraordinary circumstances?

Doblmeier: Well, my thought was this: all of us have trials. We've all been hurt, and we've all been guilty of hurting other people. And that goes for both the "great" and the "ordinary," if you want to call them ordinary. But what seems to be unique for all of them is the aspect of community.

So the big question for all of us now is: What is the expectation of the immediate community that we're involved in, in terms of forgiveness? If you belong to an L. A. street gang, for example, you know what the expectation is regarding forgiveness—it doesn't work. But if you're in the Amish community, there's an expectation that you'll extend forgiveness no matter how tragic the occurrence is, and that we together as a community of Amish people will hold you up.

I think that applies not just in extreme situations, but in the daily life of things, too. How does your family speak to you in terms of forgiveness when something happens to you? How does your church talk in terms of forgiveness as a virtue, and in a practical way hold you up?

If we really want to transform the culture, it's not going to happen with just one person doing it. It's going to take small pockets of communities who decide this is not the way it should be. We're going to band together and hold each other up. And together maybe we can make a difference through forgiveness, moving forward and letting go of the anger.

So, is it a goal of your documentary to lift up a standard of forgiveness that we can all rally around, or were you trying to be more objective?

Doblmeier: One of the things I intentionally did was include inherent contradictions throughout the film. You see one person who says, "I get really angry with God." Another says, "I don't get angry with God." One says, "Forgiveness is a process. Take your time, but if you don't feel it, don't be giving it away." Another says, "No, you can make a decision to forgive, and then you can hope that your emotions follow through."

So there are contradictions laced throughout the film that serve, on my part, to be less didactic in teaching about the idea of forgiveness. I'm more interested in raising the idea of forgiveness as this lost virtue that we really believe in, but struggles for its survival in the culture we've created today.

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