Cuddy - the saint who didn't turn to dust?
The enduring legacy of a life well lived
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” as it says in the Christian funeral service. When we die, our bodies decay and return to the ground from which they came. And as Shakespeare writes in Julius Caesar, “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones”.
Last week I visited the shrine of St Cuthbert, better known as Durham Cathedral. Durham is unusual among great cathedrals in one respect; many were founded first, then went in search of holy relics to boost their fame and bring in income, but Durham was, from the very beginning, designed as a home for the remains of Cuthbert, or “Cuddy” as he is known to this day among the people of the North East of England.
Who was this character? He was born into a well-connected family in 634 AD, and became well-known and loved as a monk, the Bishop of Lindisfarne and a hermit living in extreme conditions on the remote Farne Islands. The Celtic Church in that period was renowned for its asceticism and devotion; its itinerant missionaries wandered the chilly countryside of Northumbria and beyond, devoted to preaching the Gospel and helping the poor with little care for their own comfort. But Cuthbert seems to have taken this to extremes. On Farne, he lived in a roofless shelter open only to the sky, spent hours praying in the sea (there are legends that otters came to warm his feet) and lived on berries and raw onions. He wished to be buried there, but his brother monks persuaded them that people would want to visit his shrine, so when he died at the age of 53 his remains were returned to Lindisfarne.
Eleven years later, Viking raiders sacked the holy island, and members of the community knew they would have to leave if they wished to avoid Cuthbert’s body falling into their hands. It is said that they opened the grave and were astounded to find his body had not decayed at all. There followed a period of over a hundred years of wandering as Cuthbert’s devoted followers waited for God to guide them to a fitting location for his shrine. Ultimately, the rocky, wooded headland they settled became the site of Durham Cathedral.
There seems to be something about Cuddy that gets under your skin and chips away at your cynicism. I found it difficult to be in the simple chapel behind the High Altar where he now lies, among very ordinary people who sat in quiet reverence, and not feel the sense of being in the presence of true holiness. I haven’t been a Christian for many years but I was struck by how clearly, in defiance of Shakespeare’s stated cynicism, the good represented by the saint has persisted and a deep pride and love for him is woven into the identity of local people.
Is there anything in the claim that his body remains whole and uncorrupted more than 1,000 years later? Who can say? But I’m reminded of Philip Pullman’s concept of Dust as particles charged with the energy released by human consciousness, and that of course includes love, memory, tradition and veneration. I like to imagine that, since he was already so close to the Kingdom of Heaven (or the Republic of Heaven if you prefer) that, rather than turning into earthly dust, Cuthbert’s remains became a powerful and active presence in our beautiful, fallen world.
There are some things that remain beyond the scope of human understanding. One of them is the power of a good story, and another is the way that, whether or not you would describe yourself as religious, a life of humble goodness can have an effect far more lasting than anyone could have imagined.
FURTHER READING
Guide to the Relics of St Cuthbert at Durham Cathedral Museum
“Cuddy” - a novel of Cuthbert’s life and afterlife by Benjamin Myers