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Hope everyone had a restful and rejuvenating Labor Day weekend.
I once heard my 6-year-old daughter explain to someone what her parents do for work. Dad “does calls,” she explained. Mom types really fast on a computer because of something called a “deadline.” Honestly, she’s not wrong.
The nature of work has evolved over centuries, and those changes are steaming full speed ahead with artificial intelligence. But as the tools we use to work change, so too may our understanding of what work is for.
Last week, I wrote about a program in Vicksburg, Mississippi, where boys are taught to build a toilet, fix a car and wire an outlet. Besides acquiring a skill, the work itself is a vehicle for something deeper — character formation, mentorship and a chance to build relationships and self-confidence.
In his encyclical Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo wrote: “Work remains a fundamental dimension of the human experience, for not only is it a means of sustenance, but it is also a context for expression, relationships and contributing to the community.” At its best, work cultivates qualities that come with doing something challenging, over and over again.
In Fairfield, Pennsylvania, a community of Discalced Carmelite sisters is also hard at work on a project they hope will be transformative for both their physical and inner life. The sisters are building a monastery that they hope will “last a thousand years,” according to their website.
The sisters follow a charism inspired by St. Teresa of Ávila, a Spanish nun who reformed the Carmelite religious order. They’re envisioning a settlement and a “self-sustaining community” akin to the 19th-century homesteaders of America. They plan to raise animals and spin their wool.
The Fairfield Carmelite nuns are a cloistered community, which means that they live their life hidden from the outside world, spending most of their time in prayer.
“The physical manifestation of their prayer life is the stone walls around them,” Catherine Bauer, the director of marketing and development for the sisters, says in a video about the monastery. The goal is to raise $100 million for the project, per EWTN News.
The sisters want to build their monastery like St. Teresa of Ávila would, using stone masonry, timber framing and reclaimed wood — all sourced locally. But when they started calling stone masons, many said it wasn’t possible.
But the sisters kept trying, calling stone masons in the phone book, one by one. That’s how they found Arch Masonry. “I instantly fell in love with the project,” Joe Bonifate, the general contractor, said in the video. He didn’t see why they couldn’t build a monastery exactly how the sisters envisioned it, using old-world techniques and materials.
The sisters believe the building can teach the new nuns about fidelity and authenticity “in a way a human voice just doesn’t communicate.” The stone of the building conveys a sense of permanence. All the walls are load-bearing walls. Builders are using milk paint. The windows are installed with no screws or nails.
“Beauty is formative,” says Riccardo Vicenzino in the video. He is an architect on the project.
“And when you build beautiful things, they form you.”
Thank you for reading and being part of the State of Faith community. I love to hear from readers, so feel free to reach out at any time with ideas and comments: mmanzhos@deseret.com