"Beloved: I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you.” Likely Paul never imagined that 2,000 years later, his words would be proclaimed each year at the beginning of our most solemn festival. After all, he believed that the Lord’s return was imminent! Still, the traditio—the process of handing on the faith—describes the witness of those who, having received life from this gift, now desire to pass it on to others.
Recently, I was privileged to view The Saint John’s Bible at the Winnipeg Art Gallery, the only place where it has exhibited in Canada. The Saint John’s Bible is the first hand-written, illuminated Bible to be produced since the Middle Ages. The Benedictine monks of St. John’s Abbey and University in Collegeville, Minnesota, describe the project in this way: “The unique aspect of this Bible is that it will be a Bible for our time. It will be a combination of ancient methods and materials with themes, images and technology of the 21st century and beyond. The Saint John’s Bible will represent humankind’s achievements over the past 500 years. It will be a contemporary blending of religious imagery from various Eastern and Western traditions, as befits our modern understanding of the global village. …” What a glorious example of handing on what we have received!
Although I own one volume of this version of the Bible in reproduction, nothing had prepared me for the encounter with this awe inspiring work of art. Its gold leaf is incomparably alive. The page that left me breathless and awestruck accompanies the opening of chapter 24 of Luke’s gospel. The cross, which takes up almost the whole of the 15 3/4” by 23 1/2” page, is executed in gold leaf. At the end of an aisle where those two pages were displayed glowed the cross, an explosion of light and fire plunging us into the mystery of the cross by the sheer power of its beauty.
Like the cathedrals of old, The Saint John’s Bible is catechetical—but, like theirs, this is catechesis in the visual medium—so apt for our thoroughly visual culture. If the aim of catechesis is to draw us into communion with Jesus Christ, The Saint John’s Bible does so by offering us a different way to encounter the Word of God, called visio divina [sacred seeing] in place of lectio divina [sacred reading]. The abbott of St. John’s Abbey, John Klassen, OSB, commented in his homily at the celebration of the first volume: “What we are trying to achieve with The Saint John’s Bible is to provide visual points of entry into the text, into the transformative power of the words, into meaning and life that is available to us through these words. The illuminations transform the word into sacrament.” (For a sample process,see http://saintjohnsbible.org/Reflections/Reflection%20Transfiguration.htm.)
The transformation of which Abbott Klassen speaks is the key to traditio today. We know that many people have become disconnected from this process of handing on faith. Our secular culture lacks the built-in faith references with which those who are 55+ grew up. The culture that underpinned and permitted the traditional tripod of parish, home and school to seem to function seamlessly in the 50s, 60s and early 70s no longer exists. All three of these agents now scramble to figure out how to hand on the faith in this new context. The disconnect at the level of religious practice that we see in all those institutions is but one symptom of this challenge. College literature profs recognize the lack of biblical culture in the young, whose ears are no longer attuned to the scriptural allusions in the literature of another, more biblically-infused era. Grandparents, recognizing that their own children hesitate both to receive what had been offered to them and to pass it on to their offspring, take up the challenge themselves. The simple world of the past no longer exists. To reconnect with this process, we must offer people fine examples of faith enlivened and enriched by the scientific, psychological, literary, artistic and philosophical cultures of our day to make it clear that faith is a living relationship, not a museum piece, and that it is possible to be a believer in our world today. Just as the tradition that Paul received from the Lord was refashioned by his handling of it—think, for example, of his vision of a mission to the Gentiles, so too must the insights, art and science of each generation enliven and enrich the Tradition. Although The Saint John’s Bible was protected at the Winnipeg Art Gallery, its power could not be contained by museum display cases. Clearly it is a project of our time and for our time, even as its roots sink deep into Tradition.
We can learn from this project. The presence in the art of The Saint John’s Bible of the double helix of DNA , of images captured by the Hubble telescope, of early cave paintings in Nigeria, of Earth suspended in the cosmos and, through the book of Psalms, of digital voice print stamps let us see our lives, our real-time reality as the world God so loves that he sent his Son to be one of us. While few will undertake as massive a project as the monks of St. John’s Abbey, all of us are called to collaborate in articulating a faith that is as contemporary and compelling as it is Traditional. 


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