CHAPTER 37: The temptations he suffered while ill and the instructions he gave about his burial just before he died
CHAPTER 37
The temptations he suffered while ill and the instructions he gave about his burial just before he died
As soon as Christmas was over Cuthbert sought out his island home once more. A crowd of the brethren gathered to see him off, one of whom, an old monk, strong in the faith though wasted away through dysentery, said to him, ‘Tell us, my lord, when we may expect to see you again.’
The answer came back as plain as the question (for Cuthbert knew it was true): ‘When you bring back my corpse.’
He was given almost two months to rediscover the delights of the quiet life and to fit mind and body into the strict discipline of his old routine; then he was suddenly felled by disease, to be prepared by the fires of internal pain for the joys of everlasting bliss. Let me tell you of his death verbatim, just as I had it from Herefrith, a sincerely devout priest and present abbot of Lindisfarne:
‘After being racked by three weeks of continual illness, he met his end in the following way. He took ill, you know, on a Wednesday, and it was on a Wednesday too that the disease conquered and he went to his Lord. I arrived the morning the sickness began – I had already been there three days previously with the brethren to get his blessing and words of consolation – and now gave the usual signal to let him know I had arrived. He came to the window, but when I greeted him he could only sigh.
‘“What is wrong, my lord? Have you had an attack during the night?”
‘“Yes,” he said, “it came last night.”
‘I thought he was referring to his old complaint that used to trouble him nearly every day, not to anything new. Without further question I asked for his blessing as it was time to be rowing back.
‘“Do as you intend,” he said. “Board your vessel and go safely home. When God takes my soul, bury me here close to the oratory, on the south side and to the east of that holy cross I myself put up. To the north of the oratory you will find a stone coffin hidden under the turf, a present from the holy Abbot Cudda. Put my body in it, wrapped in the cloth you will find there. Abbess Verca gave it me as a present but I was loath to wear it. Out of affection for her I carefully put it aside to use as a winding-sheet.”
‘Hearing this I exclaimed: “Father, now that you yourself have told me you are dying, I beg you to let some of the brethren stay and look after you.”
‘“Go now and come back at the proper time.”
‘I insisted that there should be someone by him but he would not agree. Finally I asked when we were to come back.
‘“When God wants. He will show you.”
‘We carried out his directions. Calling together the brethren in church I ordered constant prayer on his behalf, telling them that I gathered from his words that he would soon be with the Lord. I was anxious to return, but a storm kept us back for five days; events were later to prove that this was the work of Providence. Almighty God, in order that his servant might be purified from every trace of human frailty and to show his adversaries their impotence against his strength of faith, willed him to be cut off from mankind for so long to test him by physical suffering and by exposing him to still fiercer conflict with our ancient enemy. When the storm abated we reached the island to find that he had left his cell and was sitting in the house where we used to lodge. The other monks had to go over to the shore on some necessary errand but I stayed and lost no time in seeing to his needs. One of his feet needed attention; it had been swollen for a long time and had now developed an ulcer and was suppurating. I heated some water and bathed it. I then gave him some warm wine and tried to make him taste it. You could see from his face that what with the illness and lack of food besides his strength was all drained away. When I had finished he sat down quietly on the couch and I sat beside him. He was silent, so I began the conversation.
‘“My lord bishop, I can see how much you have suffered since we left you, and I wonder why you would not allow anyone to stay to look after you.”
‘“It was God’s will that I should be left to suffer awhile without help or company. From the time you left the sickness grew steadily worse; and I got up and came out here so that when you did arrive to take care of me, you would be able to find me without having to bother to enter the monastery. From the time I came in here and settled myself down I have not moved a limb but have remained in the same position these five days and nights.”
‘“But my lord, how can you live like this? Have you gone without food all this time?”
‘He turned back the coverlet on which he sat and showed me five onions.
‘“This has been my food for the last five days. Whenever my mouth was parched or burned with excessive hunger or thirst I refreshed and cooled myself with these.”
‘One of the onions was less than half nibbled away. He added: “My assailants have never tempted me so sorely as they have during the past five days.”
‘I did not dare inquire what kind of temptations they were but contented myself with asking him to let himself be waited upon. He consented and let some of us stay, one of whom was the priest Bede, his personal servant. (It was his position as servant that enabled Bede to know all the presents that Cuthbert had ever received.) Cuthbert wanted him at hand in case he had forgotten to make due return for any of the gifts he had received; if that was so, Bede could remind him and give him time to return the kindness before he died. He especially asked to have another brother by him as a servant. This other monk had suffered for a long time from severe diarrhoea and could not be cured. His piety, prudence, and seriousness marked him out as a worthy witness of the saint’s last words and of the way he died. I returned and told the brethren that our venerable father had ordered that he was to be buried on the island.
‘“But it seems far more fitting to me,” I added, “to ask him to let us bring his body back here to be given a more decent burial with proper honours in the church.”
‘They agreed and we went to Cuthbert.
‘“We do not think lightly of your command, my lord, to be interred here, but it seemed right that we should ask for the honour of bringing your body back to the monastery to remain with us.”
‘“But it is my desire to rest here where I have fought my fight for the Lord and where I want to finish the course and whence I hope to be raised up by my just judge to receive the crown of righteousness. What is more, it would be less trouble for you if I did stay here, because of the influx of fugitives and every other kind of malefactor which will otherwise result. They will flee for refuge to my body, for, whatever I might be, my fame as a servant of God has been noised abroad. You will be constrained to intercede very often with the powers of this world on behalf of such men. The presence of my remains will prove extremely irksome.”
‘We pleaded with him a long time, insisting that all this would seem light to us through being a labour of love. At last he gave us this advice.
‘“If you feel you must go against my plans and take me back there, I think it would be best to make a tomb in the interior of the basilica – then you will be able to visit it yourselves whenever you wish and also to decide who else from outside may do so.”
‘We thanked him on bended knee for his permission and advice and went back home. After that we paid him frequent and regular visits.