Three Stonemasons

During the early years of the fourteenth century the foundations of a magnificent cathedral were being laid in central Europe. The Clerk of Works was a monk who was charged with the task of supervising the work of all the labourers and artisans. This monk decided to carry out a study into the working practices of the stonemasons. He singled out three stonemasons as being representative of different attitudes towards their profession.

He approached the first stonemason and said, “My brother, tell me about your work.”

The stonemason stopped what he was doing for a moment and replied in a clipped voice full of anger and resentment, “As you see, I sit here in front of my block of stone. It measures a metre, by half a metre, by half a metre. And with every blow of my chisel against the block I feel as though I am chipping away a part of my life. Look, my hands are callused and hard. My face is lined and my hair is grey. This work is never-ending, the same day in, day out. It wears me out. Where”s my satisfaction? I”ll be dead long before the cathedral is even a quarter finished.”

The monk approached the second stonemason. “Brother,” he said, “tell me about your work.”

“Brother,” replied the stonemason in a soft, even voice, “as you see, I sit here in front of my block of stone. It measures a metre, by half a metre, by half a metre. And with every stroke of my chisel against the block I sense I am carving out a life and a future. Look, how I am able to shelter my family in a comfortable house, far www.atoledo.com better than that in which I grew up. My children attend school. No doubt they will look forward to even more in life than I do. All this is made possible by my work. As I give to the cathedral through my skill, the cathedral gives to me.”

The monk approached the third stonemason. “Brother,” he said, “tell me about your work.”

“Brother,” replied the stonemason smiling and in a voice full of joy,” as you see, I sit here in front of my block of stone. It measures a metre, by half a metre, by half a metre. And with every caress of my chisel against the block I know I am shaping my destiny. Look, see how the beauty trapped within the form of this stone begins to emerge. Sitting here, I am celebrating not only my craft and the skills of my profession, but I am contributing to everything that I value and believe in, a universe – represented by the cathedral – where each gives of his best for the benefit of all. Here at my block I am at peace with who I am, and I am grateful that, although I will never see the completion of this great cathedral, it will still stand a thousand years from now, a beacon celebrating what is truly worthy in all of us, and a testament to the purpose for which the Almighty has put me on this earth.”

The monk went away and reflected on what he had heard. He slept more peacefully that night than he had ever done, and the next day he resigned his commission as Clerk of Works and apprenticed himself to the third stonemason.

Taken from “The Magic of Metaphor” by Nick Owen and credited to Rachel Naomi Remen