Fr. Eric Hollas, OSB
It’s been 22 years since calligrapher Donald Jackson detailed to me his life’s ambition to create a hand-written and illuminated Bible. Would this be something that might interest Saint John’s?
I’ll admit I was skeptical, but I hated to say no.
There had to be several good reasons why no one had tried such a thing in 500 years, and I wasn’t sure that Saint John’s was the right place to discover why. Still, against my better judgement, I promised to shop the idea around.
I was wrong about our potential interest, because the idea enthralled Br. Dietrich Reinhart.
“We have to do that,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation.
So began a project that has since sparked the spiritual imagination of millions around the world.
Chief among my qualms was one big question: Would sponsors step forward to make this possible? Early on, one man put that anxiety to rest.
Jackson and I had spoken to an audience in Grand Rapids, Mich., as part of a cultural series organized by Northern Trust Bank. Our hope was that supporters might surface from a group that scarcely knew anything about Saint John’s. We spoke to a group of 50, and we were there for all of two hours. We did our best, packed up and drove on to our next stop.
The next day we got a call from Saint John’s, telling us that someone in Grand Rapids had just donated $50,000. That day I knew this thing could work.
A lot has happened in 20 years:
· The Saint John’s Bible is complete;
· The Heritage Edition has been printed;
· The BBC did an hour-long documentary;
· Hundreds of thousands of people have seen the original folios in exhibits across the country and at the V & A in London.
But one thing has been lacking – until now.
When we asked Donald Jackson to make the word of God come alive on a page, we drew up a long list of goals. Last on that list was the creation of a gallery to house the Bible at Saint John’s. Happily, we dedicated that gallery Oct. 5.
I will always recall a message I received shortly after we had announced the project. The press release had recounted Jackson’s aspiration to create something that people would come a thousand miles to see.
The following weekend I got a message from a woman in Bismarck, N.D., saying she was coming to see it. Frantically, I called to tell her that we’d not yet started. There was nothing to see just yet.
Now, 20 years later, we’re ready at last. Sadly, I’ve misplaced that woman’s phone number, but I hope that somehow she hears the news.
The Saint John’s Bible is home at last, ready to spark her spiritual imagination.