Blessed Alexander Crummell (1819-1898): Pastor, Professor, Abolitionist

When I read the life of Alexander Crummell, I confess that I, as a white person of privilege, feel quite ashamed of how my country and my Church treated this man, father, and priest, simply because the color of the skin with which God created him was black. Perhaps the most despicable expression of this was on the occasion of Crummell's seeking to come into the Diocese of Philadelphia, under Bishop Henry Onderdonk. He'd come with the blessing and a letter of introduction from Bishop Griswold of Boston. Onderdonk said to Crummell: "I will receive you into this diocese on one condition: No Negro priest can sit in my church convention and no Negro parish must ask for any representation there." Rightfully unwilling to accept second-hand status, Crummell is said to have paused for a moment, then resolutely replied: "I will never enter your diocese on such terms." Time after time, decade after decade in the United States, right down to the present, this sort of glaring prejudice and scapegoating has been repeated. You need only read the true history of our country to realize why and how deeply this ungodly attitude has been ingrained in our national DNA, so to speak!  

Alexander Crummell was born to a former slave, Boston Crummell, and a freeborn mother, Charity Hicks, in March, 1819. Crummell himself tells us that his paternal grandfather was an ethnic Temne, born in Sierra Leone, and was captured into slavery when he was around 13 years old. Alexander's parents were active abolitionists, and the first African American newspaper, Freedom’s Journal, was published within their home. His father, Boston, also instilled in his son a sense of unity with black people still living in Africa. All of this had a profound effect in shaping Crummell’s values, beliefs, and actions throughout the rest of his life. Even as a boy in New York, Crummell worked for the American Anti-Slavery Society.

Alexander began his formal education in the African Free School No. 2, as well as at home with private tutors. After attending and graduating from Canal Street High School, at age 12 Crummell, along with his friend Henry Highland Garnet, attended interracial Noyes Academy in New Hampshire. On the journey there, he was banned from a cabin on the steamboat and forced to stay on the deck. On the next leg of the trip, he was forced to sit atop the stagecoach during the day and night. In his mid-freshman year at Noyes, the locals voted to abolish the Academy, literally dragging the school building into the swamp.

Crummell returned to New York where he enrolled in Oneida Institute, also an interracial school, in upstate New York. While there, Crummell began to discern a call to become an Episcopal priest, and pursued it with the same enthusiasm with which he'd pursued the rest of his education. Once again he hit the race barrier when he was denied admission to the General Theological Seminary, solely because of his race. Nevertheless, Alexander Crummell persevered. With the help of several clergymen sympathetic to his position, he was accepted as a candidate in the join Diocese of Massachusetts/
Rhode Island. He studied under a tutor for a year and took some studies at Yale Theological Seminary where, despite having the same advantages as white students, he wasn't permitted to have his name recorded on the college register! In 1842 he was ordained a deacon by Bishop Alexander Viets Griswold, and as a priest, in 1844, by Bishop Alfred Lee, first bishop of Delaware and 40 years later, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. Alexander struggled as the pastor of the Church of the Messiah in New York experiencing severe poverty, hunger, ambivalent attitudes, low finances (he himself took no pay!) and low attendance. He married during this time, and he and his wife suffered the loss of their first child to malnutrition. 

In 1847, Crummell traveled to England to raise money for his congregation at the Church of the Messiah. While there, Crummell preached, spoke about abolitionism in the United States, and raised some money. By the next year Crummell had become so discouraged that he and his wife went back to England. He was welcomed by such British notables as William Wilberforce and Thomas Macaulay, among others, who became his patrons. At length he was invited to enter Cambridge University, which he attended from 1849 to 1853, at Queens' College. Although he had to take his finals twice to receive his degree, he became the first man of color ever to graduate from either Cambridge or Oxford.

Personal sadness once again visited Alexander and his family, this time in England, when his firstborn son, one of four, accidentally choked on a button and died.

During his time at the Cambridge, Crummell continued to travel around Britain and speak out about slavery and the plight of black people. He formulated his most central belief for the advancement of the African race, Pan-Africanism, during this time. Crummell believed that in order to achieve their potential, the African race as a whole, including those in the Americas, the West Indies, and Africa, needed to unify under one banner. Racial solidarity was, for him, the solution to slavery, discrimination, and continued attacks on black people. To that end, he decided to move to Liberia in Africa to spread his message.

Arriving in 1853, at the point in that country's history when American Liberians had begun to govern, Crummell began his ministry as a missionary of the American Episcopal Church, with the stated aim of converting the native people. Though previously opposed to colonization, experiences in Liberia changed his mind and he became convinced of its benefits. Crummell wove colonization into his Pan-African ideology, preaching that "enlightened," or Christianized, Africans in the United States and in the West Indies had an obligation to return to Africa, where they could help civilize and Christianize the continent. After a sufficient number of native Africans had been converted, they, in turn, would undertake converting the rest of the population, while those from America and the West Indies would continue to educate the people and run a republican government. Alexander Crummell’s grand scheme, however, never came to fruition. Interest in colonization waned, "enlightened" black people failed to perform the duties laid out for them. Crummell did, however, successfully serve as a pastor and professor in Liberia, though he was never able to set up the government and society which he had envisioned. In 1873, he returned to the United States.

Back in the United States, Crummell became a "missionary at large among the colored people", and served for two years as pastor of an integrated Episcopal mission, St. Mary’s. In 1880 he founded and served as rector of St. Luke's, Washington, for 15 years. Despite prior frustrations, he never stopped working for the racial solidarity he had advocated for so long. In the 1880's he organized a national black convocation which effectively blocked the efforts of Southern Episcopal Bishops to set up a segregated missionary district for black congregations. It was the forerunner of today's Union of Black Episcopalians. He encouraged the establishment of new black parishes in the eastern U.S. Throughout his life, Crummell continued to work for black nationalism, self-help, and separate economic development.

Retiring from active ministry in 1894, he taught at Howard University for two years. He spent the last years of his life gathering black artists and educators to help establish the American Negro Academy in Washington, which opened in 1897. Interest in the Academy waned by the 1920's, but it was revived some forty year later, in 1969, in New York City as a non-profit organization, the Black Academy of Arts and Letters.

Alexander Crummell died in Red Bank, NJ, in 1898. Though most of his work never produced the intended results, he was an important voice within the abolition movement and a vocal leader of the Pan-African ideology. His contributions to the academic world, via his sermons and written works, leave the impression of a well-educated, well-spoken, and well-written black man. Crummell  exerted significant influence on other great African Americans: Marcus Garvey, Paul Laurence Dunbar, and W. E. B. Du Bois. Du Bois, in his 1903 book, The Souls of Black Folk, memorialized Alexander Crummell: "I can see his face still, dark and heavy-lined beneath his snowy hair; lighting and shading, now with inspiration for the future, now in innocent pain at some human wickedness, now with sorrow at some hard memory of the past.  

The more I met Alexander Crummell, the more I felt how much the world was losing which knew him so little..."

Sister Constance & The Martyrs of Memphis

The City of Memphis, TN suffered epidemics of yellow fever, a mosquito-borne viral infection, three times between 1868-1878. The worst of the epidemics occurred in the summer of 1878, when some 5,150 people, out of a population of c. 50,000, died. During this time, St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral was considered a sort of religious center of the city because its doors remained open and the sacraments were always available.

In 1873 a group of Episcopal nuns from the recently formed Sisterhood of St. Mary arrived in Memphis, at the request of Bishop Charles Todd Quintard, to found a Girl's School adjacent to the Cathedral. When the 1878 epidemic struck, in the wake of which some 30,000 people fled the city, a number of priests, nuns and lay people, both Protestant and Catholic, as well as doctors, nurses, and even prostitutes, stayed behind to tend to the sick and dying. Sister Constance, superior of the Episcopal Sisters, three other Episcopal nuns, and two Episcopal priests are now known throughout the Anglican Communion as "Constance and Her Companions", "The Martyrs of Memphis." Since 1981, the Episcopal Church has publicly commemorated their willingness to sacrifice even their lives for suffering fellow citizens. Approximately 30 Roman Catholic priests and nuns also died during the same plague.

Episcopal nuns and priests who died from the epidemic are:

* Sister Constance (neé Caroline Louise Darling, b. Medway, MA, 1846), superior of the Sisters, headmistress of St. Mary’s School for Girls, and organizer, along with Cathedral Dean, George C. Harris, of the relief effort among the stricken
+ Sister Thecla, sacristan of St. Mary’s Cathedral and its school chapel, instructor in music and grammar (English and Latin)
+ Sister Ruth, nurse at Trinity Infirmary, New York City, NY
+ Sister Frances, a newly professed nun given charge of the Church Home orphanage
+ Rev. Charles C. Parsons, rector of Grace & St. Lazarus Episcopal Church, Memphis, West Point alumnus and professor, former U.S. Army artillery commander, served with classmate Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer in Kansas, defense counsel in Custer's 1867 court-martial trial
+ Rev. Louis S. Schuyler, assistant at Holy Innocents Episcopal Church, Hoboken, New Jersey

The religious and clergyt martyrs are buried at Elmwood Cemetery. A monument over the joint grave of Fathers Parsons and Schuyler has the inscription: "Great Love Hath No Man". The Sisters are memorialized by the high altar at St. Mary's Cathedral.

We give you thanks and praise, O God of compassion, for the heroic witness of Constance and her companions, who, in a time of plague and pestilence, were steadfast in their care for the sick and 

dying, and loved not their own lives, even unto death: Inspire in us a like love and commitment 

to those in need, following the example of our Savior Jesus Christ; who with you and the 

Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Nativity of the God-bearer (Theotókos)

God of mercy,
give your people help and strength from heaven.
The birth of the Virgin Mary's Son
was the dawn of our salvation.
May this celebration of her birthday
bring us closer to lasting peace.
Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son.

Labor Day

Almighty God, you have so linked our lives one with another

that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives: So guide

us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but

for the common good; and, as we seek a proper return for 

our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of

other workers, and arouse our concern for those who are out

of work; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns

with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

We remember the 9.5% jobless rate, and the 15 million real people in this country who are without jobs this day. "...arouse our concern for those who are out of work..." We pray for them and their families as they deal with discouragement, stress, frustration, anger, hopelessness. What is it that motivates the politicians of the United States, mostly male, and mostly well-to-do, to continually turn a blind eye to the plight of those in the lower income brackets.  It was so heartening to see an episode on Undercover Boss (I stumbled onto it last evening), where the president and CEO of Churchill Downs, Bill Carstanjen, spent a week undercover working and being supervised by some of his employees in different areas of the racing operation, listening to them, their concerns, their struggles, their creative ideas, their sorrows, then later revealing himself to them and announcing the profound impact it has had on how he plans to run the operation now, and actually making some immediate changes which made life easier for those whom he worked with on the episode. "...make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers..."

And if only we could recover a national sense of the common good, a realization that we're all in this life together, seeking basically the same things, and that if everyone pitches in, all will benefit from such mutuality: "...that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good..." 

I think I'll always remember some wise words spoken by our spiritual director, Fr. Francis Beuke, in minor seminary: "Work is something we all hate to do, but something we cannot do without."

Choices

I could count on my hands, maybe even on one hand, the number of times I’ve preached specifically on the Psalm of the liturgy. It’s a shame that we don’t use the Psalms more in preaching because they’re so down-to-earth and full of the very human situations which we all face. Above all, the Psalms are poetry and prayer, poured out to God from human hearts like ours, sometimes full of praise and joy or of suffering and despair, sometimes full of ardent longing and even of bitterness and anger.

Most of the 150 Psalms carry a superscription or title, added some time during the collecting and editing process. For example, Psalm 45, which begins “My heart is astir with gracious words; I speak my poem to a king…”, has the double title: “A Maskil” = an instructive poem, and “A love song”. Today’s Psalm 1, however, is one of 34 titleless Psalms, often called “orphan Psalms”. Psalm 1 wasn’t actually a part of the Psalter, but was added later as an introduction to the whole collection. So, message of Psalm 1 is quite basic and it sets the teaching tone, not only for the whole Psalter, but for today’s three liturgical readings.

Psalm 1’s themes of reward for the righteous and virtuous person, and of punishment for the wicked and the ungodly, connects with Israel’s ancient wisdom teachers, particularly the writers of the books of Proverbs, Job, and Ecclesiastes. The psalm seems to date from later in the wisdom movement’s history, when wisdom and God’s law were considered virtually identical, so, perhaps c. 400 B.C.E.

In the simplest terms, the sage-writer of Psalm 1 aims to teach people how to live. Wisdom = hokma (Heb.) meant human wisdom as it is lived and practiced. The “wise” person was one who had “practical ability”, “professional skill”, enabling one to live well, rule well, think well, etc. Such a person was interested in the great questions of life, and how to translate the wisdom of the insights and answers to such questions into everyday, practical, here-and-now living. A wise person or sage was one who came to such knowledge through a relatively long life, through many and varied experiences, and through integrity, wholeness, and holiness gained from the relationship with one’s self, with one’s fellow men/women, and, most of all, with God. Such a person could, indeed, be called righteous: possessing true shalom = peace, because one’s relationships, with self, with other human beings, and with God, were integral, whole, and therefore, sacred.

Like the Beatitudes of Jesus, the first part of Psalm 1 (vv. 1-3) describes the righteous one with the wisdom-writers’ term, “Happy/Blessed”. It’s truly a wise and clever device, isn’t it, because, right away, it holds out to all who hear or read it exactly what all of us really want in life: to be happy. The psalmist then goes on to show, in three ways: 1) negatively; 2) positively; and 3) by means of a metaphor, how such a one can accomplish this.

1) Negatively, he advises us against a threefold, progressive association with undesirables: “don’t walk in the counsel of the wicked”; “don’t stand in the way of sinners”; “don’t sit in the seat of scoffers”. Shun evildoing; don’t take advice from those who act contrary to God’s wishes. Don’t take as role models those who’ve gone off the path of the true and the right. Don’t join the company of the arrogant who scorn and sneer at their fellows and at God.

2) Positively, let one’s delight be in Torah, commonly called “the law of the Lord”. This isn’t, however, to be taken in any written or legal sense. It means, rather, God’s guidance and instruction, God’s Sophia or Wisdom, which is God’s very Self. That is to be one’s “delight”, such that it’s never a burden or a yoke, but the sweet, stable foundation of the whole of one’s life. One’s meditation or prayer is to centered at all times, throughout the entire day, and, indeed, throughout one’s whole life, on God who is All Wisdom and Truth.

3) In a metaphor used frequently throughout the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, the psalmist depicts the righteous one as a tree, “planted by streams of water, which yields fruit in its season, and whose leaves do not wither…” It’s a picture of abundance, prosperity, productivity, usefulness, and ability to endure life’s hardships: all made possible by the nourishing streams of God’s outpouring of Godself into one’s life. For an Israelite, trees and water were extremely important sources of food and of relief from the heat. As a tree graciously flourishes and becomes fruit-giving, so the righteous person branches out, reaches out, graciously and generously to others. The image of “streams of water” suggests many things: Torah, God’s law, divine Wisdom, pouring Itself out in the creation of the natural world and humankind; the life-giving Blood of Jesus which the Epistle to the Hebrews refers to as “a better word than the blood of Abel” and as “the new and living way...opened for us”; and, finally, the waters of Baptism where, as the Book of Common Prayer says, we’re “sealed by the Holy Spirit [often symbolized as Sophia/Wisdom]...and marked as Christ’s own for ever”. The celebrant also prays that we be given “an inquiring and discerning heart, [and] the courage to will and to persevere…and the gift of joy and wonder in all [God’s] works.”

In the second half of Psalm 1 (vv. 4-6), the sage contrasts the righteous one, the flourishing tree by the water-stream, utilizing the image of grain chaff which he likens to the ungodly, conniving, wicked person: “The wicked are...like chaff that the wind drives away…”. This recalls the harvesting process which involved cutting the grain with sickles, gathering it into sheaves, then taking it to the threshing floor, an important local site with a hard surface and often situated on higher ground. Various tools, such as metal-toothed sledges drawn by oxen, were used for threshing. As grain was winnowed, or tossed into the air, with a pitchfork, the wind carried off the chaff, leaving the heavier kernels and straw to fall to the ground. Finally, the kernels were shaken in a sieve, made of a wooden hoop with leather thongs, after which the grain was sacked and stored. The psalmist’s message is that the life of those caught up in godlessness and evil, rather than being “happy”, is without true permanence, worth or meaning. They aren’t integral, whole or at peace with themselves, with others, and, most of all, with God. Sadly, by their own choice, such people live in separation from God and from “the congregation of the righteous”.

The Psalm ends, in a literal rendering of the Greek text, with the psalmist’s comment that “the Lord tells/teaches the path of the righteous, whereas the path of the wicked leads to losing oneself.” Another biblical scholar graphically describes it this way: “The path followed by the righteous is broad and safe, because the Lord knows i.e., it is under his protection. In contrast the path of the wicked, like a desert trail, leads nowhere and will soon peter out...perhaps beside a dry water hole marked by the skeletons of those who followed it.”

Today’s readings each suggest in their own way the two choices which the wisdom-writer of Psalm 1 presents to us. Moses, in Deuteronomy (30:15-20), expresses it perhaps the most clearly: “See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction...life and death, blessings and curses…” Many scholars believe that all of Deuteronomy 29-30 was written well after the conquest of what we know as the Holy Land. During the years after the Exodus, God’s people had, time and again, ignored God’s words. They’d taken up the worship of other gods, and had suffered both the consequence of becoming a relatively powerless people whose land was the crossroads of other mighty empires, and the consequence of their own failures and betrayal of God. So, you have to understand Moses' words in the context Israel’s having experienced a happy/tragic roller coaster ride in the years after entering the promised land -- without Moses, by the way.

Moses is shown giving a final pep-talk to the descendants of those with whom he escaped from Egypt a generation back. They’re on the frontier of the Promised Land, which God has already informed Moses that he will glimpse before he dies, but not enter. Moses himself never saw the Torah as any sort of burden. He assures his people that God’s will, “the law of the Lord”, is "not too hard ..., nor is it too far away". God's Wisdom is, in fact, "in your mouth and in your heart". That’s how intimate and immediate God is to God’s people in leading them on the path of the righteous. The community of Israel already has the Torah on its collective lips and in its heart, presumably as the result of their continual individual and communal reflection on it. The choice for them is quite clear: a simple “if-then”: if you love God by doing God's will, then you’ll have long life and prosperity. If you serve other gods, then you’ll die. God calls all heaven and earth to witness to the choice which God offers again: life or death.

The Letter to Philemon is slightly different in that Paul poses a choice, a rather radical one at that, to Philemon regarding his runaway slave. It appears that Philemon was a dearly beloved friend of Paul’s, and a leader in the Colossian Christian community. Paul refers to “the church in your house”. Philemon’s slave, Onesimus, had somehow ended up running away from, or at least leaving, his household and serendipitously connected with Paul, most likely in Ephesus, where Paul was in prison, and ended up becoming Paul’s right-hand man, much to Paul’s delight. Paul several times plays on the name of “Onesimus” which means “useful” or “beneficial”.

Paul basically proposes that Philemon accept Onesimus back. In returning Onesimus, Paul wants to be “legally correct”, because that would’ve been the right thing to do, and he makes it very clear both that Onesimus will honor Philemon’s decision, either way, and that he, Paul, will pay any outstanding expenses which Philemon has incurred. Paul says that he’d prefer that Philemon would honor his request willingly, not out of a sense being pressured to do so. Yet, Paul is blatantly unrelenting in laying a real guilt trip on Philemon. Paul plays the "age card": “...I, Paul, do this as an old man…”, then adds the "suffering servant card": “...and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus…” He tells Philemon that Onesimus has been such an invaluable assistant in the ministry that he’s become like a son. Paul shamelessly hints that he’d like to keep Onesimus with him, truth be told! “...now he is indeed useful both to you and to me. I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. I wanted to keep him with me...but I preferred to do nothing without your consent…” Though it seems that Paul really wants Philemon to send Onesimus back to him as a gift, he’s willing to let him go, if only Philemon will accept him back unconditionally, no longer as a slave, but as “a beloved brother”. In fact, Paul urges Philemon to “welcome him as you would welcome me”, throwing in the little jab that “I say nothing about your owing me even your own self”. Paul admits his confidence that Philemon “will do even more than I say”.

There’s an indication that this letter wasn’t just to Philemon, privately, but that Paul meant it to be read to the Colossian church community also. It was to prod others, beyond Philemon, to reassess their willingness consciously choose to accept all others as Christ would. Imagine yourself as Philemon, hearing this read during the Sunday announcements! And I wonder if anyone took bets on what Philemon’s choice would be!

Then there’s Luke’s Gospel passage! (14:25-33) The Jesus depicted by Luke here expresses, the most painfully and uncompromisingly of the three readings, the gist of Psalm 1’s message: “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, and even life itself—cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” Unfortunately, there’s no way to tone down or euphemize the intensity of the verb usually translated as "hate". 19 out of 21 translations which I checked use that exact word. Parenthetically, the Gospel of Thomas, an ancient source, not included in our Christian canon of Scripture, has virtually the same passage and wording in two places. Matthew, in his Gospel (10:37), gives a softened version: “Any one who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and any one who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” Other renderings, such as "detest", "abhor", “abandon”, “disregard”, etc., have been suggested, but the word miseo = to hate in the Greek text is clear. Which poses a dilemma, at least for me, because I can’t imagine Jesus teaching anyone to literally detest another person for any reason, much less a close family member.

The commentaries which I’ve studied either side-step the question or go along with Matthew’s viewpoint. Here’s what I personally feel sure of: that I’m called to do no less than what Matthew’s Jesus commands, i.e., to love no person or thing more than Jesus the Christ. As to what Luke’s Jesus commands, let me suggest two viewpoints for you to “chew on” and pray over for yourselves during the next week:

1) Pastor Lisa Davison, of the Disciples of Christ Church and professor of religious studies at Lynchburg College in Virginia, offers this: “The introduction to the passage might hold a clue to [Jesus’] motivation for such strong language. As Jesus has been making his way to Jerusalem, the crowd following him has increased, as more people are moved by his message and make the spontaneous choice to join the cause. Most, if not all, of them have no idea what they are signing up for when they decide to follow the same path as Jesus. On down the road, when the going gets tough, they will turn away; their impulsive decision was not based on any informed consideration. Jesus does not want such unthinking discipleship, and he also does not want anyone to be uninformed of what will be asked of them. He overstates the level of commitment that is required of his followers (e.g., hating family and life) to make clear that nothing else can come before their loyalty to God and the gospel message. Nothing and no one in their lives can come before God.”

2) Roy Hoover and the late Robert Funk of the Jesus Seminar, in their book The Five Gospels (Polebridge Press/Macmillan, 1993) comment thus on Luke 14:26: “...Matthew softens it...But Luke and [The Gospel of] Thomas retain the rigorous form: hatred of family is a condition of discipleship.
The severity of this saying can only be understood in the context of the primacy of filial relationships. Individuals had no real existence apart from their ties to blood relatives, especially parents. If one did not belong to a family, one had no real social existence. Jesus is therefore confronting the social structures that governed his society at their core. For Jesus, family ties faded into insignificance in relation to God’s imperial rule [“God’s reign” - my addition], which he regarded as the fundamental claim on human loyalty.”

Commenting on the Gospel of Thomas 55, Hoover and Funk say: “...The saying concerns the place of family ties in relation to the claims made by God’s imperial rule [“God’s reign” - my addition]. Jesus gave absolute priority to the latter. Of course, he did not advocate that his disciples exhibit animosity or hostility towards parents, but that they accord their highest allegiances to the kingdom of God…”

I leave you with this thought from the late Leo Buscaglia: “What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life.”

The Saint Who Was Done In By A Dancing Girl

Our Order of Julian has transferred the commemoration of the Beheading of John the Baptizer from August 29 to today.

The accounts given in Mark 6:14-29 and Matthew 14:1-12 relate the poignant story in all its drama and tragedy, and I encourage you to revisit them.

 St. John Chrysostom gives an apt summary to the life of John the Baptizer: “'John is the school of virtues, the guide of life, the model of holiness, the norm ofjustice, the mirror of virginity, the stamp of modesty, the exemplar of chastity, the road of repentance, the  pardon of sinners, the discipline of faith—John, greater than man, equal of angels, sum of the Law, sanction of the gospel, voice of the apostles, silence of the prophets, lantern of the world, forerunner of
the Judge, center of the whole Trinity! And so great a one as this is given to an incestuous woman, betrayed by an adulteress, awarded to a dancing girl!'
 
In the 21st century, a cave has been discovered in the Holy Land which some experts believe to have been the place where John baptized and his own home." (Fr. John Julian, OJN, in Stars In A Dark World)

Oh-kuh-hay-tuh/"Making Medicine" - "God's Warrior"

David Pendleton Oakerhater (ca. 1847-1931), whose Cheyenne name was O-kuh-ha-tuh, was also called "Making Medicine". He was a Cheyenne Indian warrior and spiritual leader, who became an artist and an Episcopal deacon. He was imprisoned in 1875, after the Indian Wars, at Fort Marion (now Castillo de San Marcos), Florida, He was ordained as a deacon in the Episcopal Church in 1881, and worked as a missionary to his own people in Oklahoma. In 1985, the Episcopal Church named him the first Native American Anglican saint.

 Born in the 1840s in Indian Territory (later, the state of Oklahoma) to Sleeping Wolf (father), and Wah Nach (mother), Oh-kuh-hay-tuh was the second of three boys. His childhood name was Noksowist = "Bear Going Straight", and he was raised in the Cheyenne tradition. His older brother was Little Medicine, and his younger brother was Wolf Tongue.

Oh-kuh-hay-tuh is believed by some to have been the youngest man to complete the sun dance ritual, thus his Cheyenne name, Oh-kuh-hay-tuh = "Sun Dancer". He participated in his first war party at age 14 against the Otoe and Missouri tribes, and became a member of his tribe's "Bowstring Society", one of five military societies. He later participated in actions against U. S. federal and state militia forces. His first engagement with white settlers was at the Second Battle of Adobe Walls, in which 300 Native American warriors from various tribes, angered by settlers' poaching of buffalo, cattle grazing, and theft of horses, attacked a small trading village used by the poachers. The battle, lead by Comanche leader Isa-tai and Chief Quanah Parker, triggered U. S. government response in the form of the Red River War of 1874-75. Oh-kuh-hay-tuh may also have participated in the Battle of Washita River and the Sand Creek massacre.

In 1872 Oh-kuh-hay-tuh married Nomee = "Thunder Woman", who died in 1880. They had four children, all of whom died young. Oh-kuh-hay-tuh was also married a second time, to Nanessan = "Taking Off Dress". They had at least one child, and later divorced.

Baptized in 1878 at Grace Church, Syracuse, NY, he took the name David Pendleton Oakerhater, to honor his benefactress, Mrs. George Pendleton. He was confirmed October 20 of the same year at St. Paul's Church, Paris Hill, NY. Sponsored by the Diocese of Central New York, Oakerhater was trained in upstate New York, and in 1879 was sent to work among Cheyenne in Darlington, Oklahoma. His own mother, Wah Nach, was baptized there in 1882. Oakerhater served as a deacon for 36 years, though he continued to minister to the people even in retirement. He served longer than any other clergyman in Oklahoma, and had virtually founded the first Episcopal church in Oklahoma. "God's Warrior", as he is often called, died on August 31, 1931, and is buried in a small cemetery, 17 miles from Watonga, OK.