CHAPTER 66: [Burial of Wilfrid]
CHAPTER 66
[Burial of Wilfrid]
WE looked on our holy bishop as a great man and a faithful servant of Christ, but our Lord, by the miracles worked on his behalf, made it known that he was no less than a saint living with Him in glory. It happened one day that all the abbots came to Oundle to carry away the body in a carriage. Some of them wanted to wash the corpse and have it decently vested (as indeed was only right and proper) and obtained permission to do so. Abbot Bacula spread out his robe on the ground and the brethren laid the body on it. After the washing and vesting, which the abbots themselves performed, it was taken with great reverence to the place appointed. And, lo, once again from over the monastery came the sound of birds alighting and taking off with a gentle, almost musical flapping of wings. The wiser members of the community were convinced that Michael had come with his choirs of angels to lead our bishop’s soul to Paradise. The washing had been done outside the monastery buildings in a tent put up for the purpose, and the water had been emptied out in the same place. The monks erected a cross to mark the spot and many miracles were later performed there. Our monks wrapped up the holy remains in linen, placed them in the carriage, and brought it to Ripon, chanting as they came. The community came out with the holy relics to honour the cortège and hardly any of them managed to fight back his tears. They found voice, nevertheless, to sing the hymns and canticles for the reception of the corpse and led it into the basilica he himself had built and dedicated to St Peter. There he was buried with all honour in the seventy-sixth year of his age and the fortieth of his episcopate. Who can tell how many bishops, priests, and deacons he had consecrated and ordained or count the churches he had dedicated during all those years? His glory shall endure for ever. After the funeral his worthy successor Tatberht was led in surrounded by all the other bishops.
The abbot who had given his cloak for Wilfrid to be laid out on told his servant lad to take it to Wilfrid’s abbess, Cynithrith. It was rather dirty from being trodden on during the washing. Cynithrith’s orders were to keep it just as it was, folded up, till the abbot should visit her. At first she did as she was bidden but after a while decided to have it washed. There was a poor nun in the convent who, like the mason in the gospel, had gone about for years with a withered hand. Hearing what the abbess was doing she came and knelt before her with tears in her eyes.
‘In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ,’ she begged, ‘and by the soul of your dear bishop, let me bathe my shrivelled limb in the washing water. I have unshakeable faith in the power of this water, mixed as it is with the saint’s sweat, to cure my crooked hand and withered arm.’
The abbess, being a pious woman, dared hardly refuse the sister. To show her faith she at once picked up the lifeless hand with her good one and plunged it into the warm soapy water and rubbed it with the cloak. And, lo and behold, the fingers straightened out, the hand regained its vitality, and she got back the use of her whole arm. Like Moerisa, the woman in the gospel who was cured of an issue of blood by touching the hem of Christ’s garment, her faith had made her whole, and like her prototype she gave thanks to God, praising Him for His wonderful works.