Time, Silence, and Yeast

It is no accident that some of the best beer in the world is brewed by people who see their true vocation as directly tied to living in community, assisting the poor, and worshiping God. It is my contention that the perfection of beer made by Trappist monks is not an anomaly nor merely the product of consistency in process over generations but rather sparked by the unique spirituality found within the walls of the cloister. The conglomeration of deeply seeded theological values—an emphasis on the gospel ethic of caritas, technical excellence from viewing labor as constitutive of the human person, and a devotion to the care for creation—have led to a beverage that is, quite simply, divine. However, I find that these vibrant communities are often misunderstood. While most religiously oriented pilgrims might enjoy the beer, they have little appreciation for the technical aspects of the monastic vocation that lead to its production. Conversely, those areligious persons who congregate outside of the abbey gates in anticipation of the impeccable liquid seldom care to understand how or why the beer in their glass is different from that of any other. My hope is to bridge the gaps present between the theological realm, the everydayness of enjoying beer, and religious vocation in a way that underscores their compatibility.