I cannot leave unmentioned a miracle that God’s servant Heribald relates as having been performed for his benefit by Bishop John. At the time he was one of the bishop’s clergy, but is now abbot of a monastery near the mouth of the river Tyne. ‘Living with him, and knowing his way of life very intimately,’ he says, ‘I knew it to be wholly worthy of a bishop, so far as it is permissible for a man to judge. But I also proved by the experience of many others, and more especially by my own, how great his merit was in the eyes of Him who sees the heart; for by his prayer and blessing, as I shall tell, he brought me back from death’s door and restored me to life. In my early youth I lived among his clergy, occupied in learning to read and sing; but my heart had not yet entirely abandoned youthful follies. As we were travelling with him one day, we happened to come to a level open road, well suited for galloping our horses. The young men with him, mainly layfolk, began to ask the bishop’s permission to gallop and try out their horses against each other. At first he refused their request, saying that it was an unprofitable occupation; but at length he gave in to their unanimous wish, saying: “Do so if you wish; but Heribald is not to take part in the race.” I begged him persistently to let me race with the rest, for I had confidence in an excellent horse he had given me; but I could not obtain his consent.
‘When they had galloped to and fro several times, and came back spurring their horses in a race while the bishop and I watched, my hot-headed wilfulness got the better of me, and I could not restrain myself. Despite his prohibition, I joined in the sport and began to race with the others at full speed. As I did so, I heard the bishop behind me say in a sorrowful voice: “Oh, how you grieve me by riding like that!” But, although I heard him, I went on against his orders. Shortly afterwards, as my spirited horse took off in a powerful jump across a hollow in the path, I fell, and at once lost all feeling and power of movement as though I were dying; for at the spot lay a stone, level with the ground, lightly covered by turf, the only stone to be found in the whole of that level plain. And it happened by chance, or rather by the disposition of divine providence as a punishment for my disobedience, that I struck my head, and the hand which I had put under my head as I fell, on this stone. As a consequence, my thumb was broken and my skull cracked, and, as I said, I lay as though dead. As I was unable to move, they stretched an awning over me for protection; and from an hour after midday until evening I lay motionless as a corpse. Then I revived slightly, and my companions carried me home, where I lay speechless all night, vomiting blood as a result of some internal injury. The bishop was greatly distressed about my accident and possible death, because he was especially fond of me; and he did not remain with his clergy that night as was his usual custom, but spent all night in vigil and prayer, as I understand, asking God of His mercy to restore me to health. Early next morning he came and said a prayer over me, calling me by name, and waking me out of what seemed to be a heavy sleep. “Do you know who it is speaking to you?” he asked. Opening my eyes, I replied: “I do. You are my beloved bishop.” “Can you live?” he asked. “I can do so with the help of your prayers, God willing,” I replied.
’Having laid his hand on my head and blessed me, he went back to his prayers. On his return after a short while, he found me sitting up and well enough to talk. Then, inspired by God – as was soon evident – he asked me if I knew for certain whether I had been baptized. I answered that I was sure beyond a doubt that I had been washed in the waters of salvation for the forgiveness of sins; and I told him the name of the priest who had baptized me. But he said: “If you were baptized by that priest, you were not validly baptized. For I know him. When he was ordained priest, he was so slow-witted that he could not learn how to catechize and baptize. For this reason, I ordered him to cease presuming to exercise this ministry, because he was too ignorant to carry it out properly.” He then proceeded to catechize me on the spot; and when he happened to breathe on my face, I immediately began to feel better. He called the surgeon, and told him to close and bandage up the crack in my skull. After receiving his blessing, I was so much better next day that I mounted my horse and journeyed on with him to another town. I was soon completely recovered, and was then cleansed in the lifegiving waters of Baptism.’
John remained in his bishopric for thirty-three years, and then entered the kingdom of heaven. He was buried in Saint Peter’s porch in his own monastery of In-Derawuda in the year of our Lord 721. When his advanced years prevented him from administering his bishopric, he consecrated his priest Wilfrid to the See of York, and retired to his monastery to end his days in a manner pleasing to God.