The town of Yarm, where I live, is divided by a railway viaduct, which dominates the town, cutting it in two. It’s not well-known outside the area, yet it’s one of the longest in the UK (only 5 are longer) with 43 arches stretching ½ mile, and rising over 100 feet above the River Tees. A blue plaque declares it was built with 7 million bricks over 3 years. I wonder how they counted the bricks? I wonder who counted the bricks!
Colossal structures like this, built before the giant building machines and cranes of today astound me. The sheer physical effort involved is extraordinary. Ancient cathedrals fill me with the same awe. Those marvellous medieval masons created marvels with wooden scaffolding, rope pulleys and hoists.
I often ponder what thoughts went through the first bricklayer as he laid the first brick for our viaduct. Just half a mile and 6,999,999 bricks to go! In fact, I think the same thing in small buildings like our house. We bought the house before they started building it, and saw it grow from nothing. Each week another foot or two of wall appeared, agonisingly slowly.
But never mind houses, viaducts and cathedrals, what about the pyramids? And then there’s Herod’s temple in Jerusalem, another mind-boggling construction. He (or his slaves and Roman engineers) built huge retaining walls, chopped the top off a mountain, infilled the space to the walls with the rubble, all to create a flat vista big enough for a magnificent temple. The largest stone in the Temple Mount retaining wall is 46x10x10 feet, weighing 516 tons (Largest at Stonehenge is 40 tons; largest in the Pyramids is 15 tons). Experts still don’t know how it was moved ½ mile from the quarry. Even with modern technology moving the 516 ton stone would be extremely difficult.
Then there’s the astonishing network of tunnels under London. They built a gigantic hole boring machine for the newest route, the Elizabeth line. The monster tunnelling device was an amazing achievement of modern technology, but it still took 3 years to dig the 26 miles of tunnels. Yet most of the network was created by men with pickaxes and shovels. The oldest line dates to 1863, and the core of the Tube system was complete by 1906. We gaze on these ancient and not so ancient marvels, and wonder: “How did they do it?” The answer is “one brick at a time”. We live in an impatient age. Instant gratification demanded, without the troubling necessity of extended exertion. Churchill’s “blood, toil, tears and sweat” is no longer fashionable, in fact an affront to personal ambition. Hard slog over long periods is out of fashion.
In medieval guilds an apprentice was bound to a master for seven years, becoming part of the master’s household, receiving no wages except food, lodging and training. After seven years, he became a journeyman, able to work independently for a fee, but not eligible to employ others. Often a journeyman would move from place to place, gaining experience in different towns and workshops (on a “journey”). Typically this would last around three years. He might then apply to become a master, by submitting a piece of work to the guild for evaluation. If successful, he became a master craftsman, able to take apprentices, employ others and, depending on the reputation and quality of his work, demand top wages. These were the men who built our cathedrals and in fact the foundations of our country. We can’t return to those days, nor should we. Conditions with a bad master could be harsh, and the guilds were more powerful than any modern trade union. Injury and mortality was high when building those beautiful cathedrals, and we can guess the majority of victims were the apprentices and junior journeymen. But principles of patient hard work still apply, starting with one brick, one piece of wood, one bar of metal, one lump of clay, and patiently repeating a process until finished.
This isn’t restricted to trades and professions. The person we are results from countless small actions day by day over a lifetime. We choose to be kind or cruel, generous or mean, loyal or unfaithful, honest or false. A multitude of decisions and responses, small and large, shape our character and, like building a viaduct or a pyramid, it begins with the first choice. Our model and inspiration is Jesus Christ, who said:
for the works which ye have seen me do that shall ye also do; for that which ye have seen me do even that shall ye do;
Therefore, if ye do these things blessed are ye, for ye shall be lifted up at the last day. (3 Nephi 27:21)
And then, more challenging:
Therefore I would that ye should be perfect even as I, or your Father who is in heaven is perfect. (3 Nephi 12:48)
What? You and me become perfect? Absolutely, Jesus meant precisely what he said. But how is such an impossible-seeming task possible? By taking the first step, laying the first brick, and continuing on for as long as it takes. Remember: we are the apprentice, he is our Master and will give us all the help we need if we do the best we can.
