What living next door to a ‘saint’ can teach us

At his funeral last week, friends and family of Bob Cuttino, who died June 23, gathered in The Baptist Church of Beaufort, Cuttino’s last official stop as senior pastor in a long, productive career.

Included in the crowd of mourners were members of churches here and elsewhere, local dignitaries, fellow pastors, even a few Presbyterians. It was clear that Cuttino’s reach extended beyond his race, gender, denomination and even faith, but never beyond his grasp.

Each stop in Cuttino’s journey as pastor of various churches meant helping them grow in size, including The Baptist Church of Beaufort. A new multi-use building and plans for a renovated sanctuary drastically changed the church campus.

But he didn’t stop there.

Combined with civic outreach programs such as Operation Good Neighbor and new churches in Shell Point and Grays Hill, he made sure his plans would make a lasting impact.

His start in Beaufort in 1986 was auspicious.

Walking down Bay Street early one evening not long after his arrival, a mugger knocked down his wife and took off with her purse. Bob chased the man down and tackled him. It wasn’t for the money, he said later. Money was replaceable. His wife, Molly, was not.

When he “retired,” he quickly found work starting a new congregation on Hilton Head. His boundless energy and racing intellect made him seem otherworldly. There were always more people to reach, always those on the outskirts who needed ministry and music and encouragement. His praise for others was so legendarily effusive he could make a man born on third base feel as if he’d hit a triple.

He continued teaching classes on religion at USCB and wrote a column in local publications. He led mission and sightseeing trips to other countries, where he was able to speak about their religions with authority. You can do that when you have degrees from Wofford and Yale.

If living in close proximity to a saint gets you a free pass into Heaven, then my path is cleared.

Dr. Cuttino was my neighbor for decades.

He was often in his yard, using a pole to grab and clear out moss from his oak trees – his version of fishing. He cut his grass just days after heart bypass surgery. If neighborhood boys were engaged in a football game, he would throw stray balls forcefully back from the sideline. His arm hadn’t lost its zip.

When he slowed in recent years, he called me for help with small and varied tasks.

A remote control that was no longer speaking to the television.

A light bulb replacement in a hard-to- reach closet.

A computer that needed a new router.

Those and other such mundane tasks were very real reminders of his humanity.

I should have taken advantage of the few quiet moments Bob Cuttino offered.

I should have eaten the sandwiches or cookies he offered me on those visits, regardless of appetite.

But like him in younger days, I was always on the move, always looking for the next venture.

He’s gone now from Beaufort, but only in the physical sense.

Across the county, we’ll feel his impact every Sunday for years to come.

This story was originally published June 28, 2016 at 1:15 PM with the headline "What living next door to a ‘saint’ can teach us."