A Reflection on CNC Machines, Monks and Enduring Works of Art

A solitary Carmelite monk walks toward the hermitage — a group of simple dwellings at a Wyoming monastery where monks are using CNC machining to cut and carve Gothic structures. Source: The Monks of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel.

Here is a story about how an unusual article came to be. If you’ve ever wondered how and why the writers for Modern Machine Shop choose the stories we publish — specifically atypical stories such as this month’s cover feature — read on.

The editors of this publication devote our working lives to reporting technological innovations and applications in the industrial domain of metalworking. What we do not do, or rarely do, is examine for whom and why these technologies are being applied. Yes, we reference the end markets in which machined parts will be used, as this is relevant information for any number of reasons. But going beyond that — focusing regularly on the end-use of discrete parts — would not only change the nature of our mission, it also would bring into serious question our utility to you, the reader.

It turns out that this reporting structure works out fine. Modern Machine Shop editors are at our best when we are actively finding and sharing faster and more efficient production technologies. Still, every now and then it can be useful, and just plain interesting, to step back and see what all the fuss is truly about. What greater good results from all these machined parts? Who do they benefit? And how?

The holiday season — traditionally a time to reflect and give thanks — felt like the right time to consider these questions. Of course, I wouldn’t be bothering with this preamble unless an opportunity for such contemplation had presented itself. And one did, just recently, in the form of a brief comment on LinkedIn.

“This is really cool,” the commenter said, referring to an article I had written several years ago about an Amish-owned machine shop. “Might want to check out what these monks are doing in Wyoming with CNC.”

At the risk of backing myself into some kind of meta reporting niche — writing atypical stories about atypical adopters of CNC machining — I took the bait. Soon enough, with a dose of luck, I found myself speaking with Brother Isidore, head of CNC operations for the Carmelite Monastery of Meeteeste, Wyoming.

By the time we talked I had already seen images and videos on the monastery’s website of giant Prussiani five-axis machine tools sculpting massive stone blocks into Gothic structures and inspired works of art. But after two minutes on the phone with Brother Isidore, it became clear that the CNC machining side of the story — the How — was incomplete without the Why.

When Hard Work is the Point

“I’m just curious, how did you find me?”

Brother Isidore sounded surprised to have received a call from a trade media editor, especially one who was blathering on in a voicemail about CNC machining and stone carvings and a potential article for Modern Machine Shop. I explained that his phone number was buried somewhere within the monastery’s website, on a page dedicated to the ongoing construction project. It simply felt like a good place to start, I said.

We scheduled the interview a couple of weeks later. It would have to take place over the phone since, unfortunately, I would not be allowed to visit the monastery to see the work or conduct the interviews in-person. The monastery is cloistered — secluded and specifically off limits to anyone except men seeking to devote themselves to a monastic life in pursuit of their faith. The complex is situated on 2,500 acres in a nestled valley of the Rocky Mountains, now home to 26 monks. Since I wouldn’t be able to shoot my own photos and videos, he told me could provide high-resolution images and video clips of the machining work and finished parts. And man oh man, did he deliver.

Opening the online folder I found dozens of photos, many of which were like thousands of images I’ve shot at machine shops — save for the stone rather than metal parts.

But the parts were also art. Naturalistic art. Functional art. Organic forms — animals, vines, angels and flowers — meticulously carved from limestone and granite that will last for centuries. It was art that, in another era and without CNC, would have taken decades or longer to produce.

Brother Isidore shared how the monastery came to be, how they first adopted and learned to program and operate machine tools, and how they fit the work into their horarium, the monastic daily schedule that includes praying the Psalms at midnight. The Hows were fascinating, but the story was incomplete without the Why.

You do not have to be part of any organized religion to appreciate devotion. Nor beauty, nor compassion. Any emotionally functional human can recognize and appreciate these qualities. And when Brother Isidore said that the monks’ central apostolate — their chief calling as monks — is to pray for the world, I believed him.

“What we’re doing here — if something is really hard to do,” he said, “that’s worth something, isn’t it? Suffering is worth something. And we try to use all of that. It shows a lot more love than something that’s easy, right?”

And that was it. The project, the mission, was bigger than those tasked with seeing it through. The world is hurting right now, he said, and the world is starving for beauty.

And maybe that is reason enough.