Director/Producer/Editor David Petersen talks about the importance of storefront churches, filming eight-hour services and giving voice to a rarely heard community.

What led you to make this film?

My documentaries explore small communities, ones that are self-sustaining and culturally florid, but often get overlooked, even ignored, by society. In these films, I look at how people create an anchor, shelter, blood-tie or identity, despite their estrangement from the outside world. For ten years, I lived in the inner city of Washington, D.C., where these small storefront churches flourished, and every Sunday my street rocked with the gospel until nightfall, the sidewalks filled with members of various congregations, igniting the city with hope and an energy rarely witnessed by others outside these neighborhoods.

Since my grandfather was a pastor of a small church, I felt drawn to these tiny churches so connected to the street, and spent years attending services, singing in many of them, and discovered the bones of faith in the network of storefront churches throughout the city. My producer, Mridu Chandra, also grew up in D.C. and her strong anthropology background drew her to theological issues and social change. We understood that these churches serve as the backbone of strength and hope for communities often overlooked by government programs, larger society and the national media. With only a few folding chairs and a pulpit, these tiny churches serve as life rafts of support in the poorest neighborhoods, and to look at one in our nation’s capital seemed emblematic of a phenomenon found in cities across the country. Here were the churches that reached out to those most in need, those forgotten and left to suffer on the street, so we decided to make a documentary that would give a voice to one small church in the inner city of Washington, D.C. By giving an urban neighborhood and its church a face and an individual story, we hoped to create a very different portrait of inner city life than the stereotypes often depicted on television—one of dignity, power and self-determination.

How and why did you choose to profile the people featured in the film? How did you meet and develop a relationship with them, and gain their trust?

As with all of my documentaries, I tend to get very involved in the communities in which I film. I spent ten years living in D.C., attended church services and allowed people to slowly get comfortable with the idea of making a film. Part of the reason the research lasted so long was because it took that much time to find the money to fund the film. In fact, I didn’t get the support from ITVS until after I had moved to New York, and by that time the church in my original proposal had disbanded, so I had to gain the trust all over again with another church, World Missions for Christ, before I could start the film. Mridu Chandra and I spent many hours discussing our approach to the film with the congregation, working slowly to gain their trust that we would tell their story from their perspective, and with honesty, dignity and respect.

What impact do you hope this film will have?

In an age when fundamentalist religion evokes fears of intolerance, cultists, and terrorism, I hope that LET THE CHURCH SAY AMEN offers a broader insight into why faith plays such an important role in human society. By showing a fundamentalist church from the perspective of its congregation, I hope to show how faith and community become an essential source of strength for those who want to create lasting change in a society that has remained indifferent to them.

Most importantly, I hope a broader audience sees a very different portrait of inner city life than the stereotypes of crime, poverty and hopelessness. LET THE CHURCH SAY AMEN portrays a community of power and self-determination, one largely ignored by the policies of the White House—only blocks away—yet also capable of tremendous achievements through faith. Perhaps the most important lesson we learned after making the documentary came from Brother C, who lost two children to street violence in the course of our filming. Every time we call to update him about a screening or the film’s upcoming broadcast on PBS, we ask him how he’s doing and he simply replies, “I’m blessed.”

What were some of the challenges you faced in making this film?

Three of the four church members we followed for a year didn’t have working telephones, so it became very difficult to coordinate schedules for filming, especially from New York. We often had to film in the most ravaged areas of the city, where using a camera was not only dangerous, but sometimes impossible. We would regularly film services that lasted four hours long without a break, and often two services in one day that lasted eight hours, never sitting down.

We had a great opportunity to mentor three promising students from D.C. who had strong associations with the church community, a mentorship program that proved rewarding and challenging. These students—Mario Lathan, Kandis Jamison and Ryan Richmond—all did an incredible job for us, but Kandis, who had recently lost her brother to street violence, had to cope with daily threats to her life in her dangerous neighborhood. The intensity of the services, the powerful events that took place (one member lost his son to street violence while we were filming), and the intimacy of sharing nearly every waking hour with members of a congregation, was both an emotionally overwhelming and transcendent experience that no one in the crew will ever forget.

The independent film business is a difficult one. What keeps you motivated?

After seeing the children’s choir of World Missions Church perform at the Smithsonian to celebrate LET THE CHURCH SAY AMEN, Mridu and I knew that the rewards for this film would continue to astonish us. The premiere at Sundance, the many festivals where it screened, the pride that the community felt when the film was selected for to air on PBS, have motivated us to put blood, bone and our own savings into a film we hope will give voice to a community that the public rarely hears.

Why did you choose to present your film on public television?

Almost every small town, every state in the union, every wealthy or impoverished neighborhood in the country has access to public television. If they see our documentary beyond the ironing board, between meals, or as they pass out to sleep at least we’ve done something.

What are three of your favorite films?

Killer of Sheep, Charles Burnett
La Vie Sur Terre (Life on Earth), Abderrahmane Sissako
Blood of a Poet, Jean Cocteau

What didn’t you get done when you were making your film?

My taxes, having a social life, regular feeding of my cats.

If you weren’t a filmmaker, what kind of work do you think you’d be doing?

Still cleaning dead goldfish from behind the aquarium in the Pet Department at Woolworth’s.

What do you think is the most inspirational food for making independent film?

Cheez Wiz, Twinkies and Tab. The three major food groups.

What advice do you have for aspiring filmmakers?

Eat better food than the most inspirational.

Which filmmakers have most influenced your work?

Charles Burnett, Frederick Wiseman, Al Maysles, D.A. Pennebaker, St. Claire Bourne, Jean Cocteau.

If you could have one motto, what would it be?

At least I don’t have a spike through my head—every day’s a new day.

What sparks your creativity?

Having the rent paid.