In the NYSun, a review of the St. John’s Bible – the handwritten, calligraphied, illuminated copy of the Bible being done under the auspices of St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville.

Portions of the Bible are touring the country – the review is prompted by a showing at the Museum of Biblical Art in New York City. The reviewer notes the title of the exhibit: "The St. John’s Bible in Context," and can’t help but note that there’s a portion of the context of the St. John’s Bible that goes unmentioned:

The Museum of Biblical Art’s "Gilded Legacies: The St. John’s Bible in Context" is misnamed. The actual context of this modern manuscript project, funded by St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville, Minn., is a thing apart from the historic psalters and scriptures tucked in the wings as supplementary display. The lavish pieties that attend its promotion obscure a bleaker setting.

St. John’s is a community of men doubly ordained as priests and as patrons of art. The largest Benedictine monastery in the Western world, it is a magnificent compound of natural beauty and Marcel Breuer architecture. The press-savvy Abbey was the birthplace of Minnesota Public Radio. It also featured prominently in the Catholic Church’s recent sex abuse scandal.

In 2002, under pressure of publicity and threatened lawsuits, the Abbey finally acknowledged "creditable accusations" of abuse — enacted over decades — against 13 monks. Anxious to keep the cases out of court, it negotiated a settlement with the victims’ lawyer that avoided the criminal justice system. Patrons of the first handwritten and illuminated Bible since the invention of the printing press now function under the eye of a lay watchdog panel.

That is nothing against the manuscript. Yet the interior confusions of its sponsor find subtle embodiment in a made-for-exhibition Bible that is less a companion to liturgical prayer than an ambitious tour de force with a parade schedule, a catalog, its own Web site, and wares including DVDs, facsimile editions, note cards, and framed prints.

It’s an inarguable observation, but I’m not quite sure of the connection she’s trying to make – that the wreckage of the abuse at St. John’s is reflected in the lack of focused faith in the illuminations? That this was a cannily conceived way to recoup financially from the settlements? I’m not sure.

Whatever the case, the reviewer does go on to evaluate the Bible fairly, I think, noting strengths and (more) weaknesses. In looking throug the images online, I found a few that, as they say, spoke to me – but too many of them frankly reminded me of cards from the Printery House. Ah well, it’s all Benedictine, so there you go.

The Barry Moser Bible is more my style, to tell the truth…

Thanks to writer, lawyer and urbanist Mary Campbell Gallagher for passing the original review along.