Remembering Bishop John Henry Hobart
After the American Revolution, the Episcopal Church in the newly formed United States was struggling to find its place. It was seen as “too British,” and suspicion lingered. For about twenty years, very little happened to revive or rebuild it.
And then came John Henry Hobart—a man who, by all outward appearances, didn’t seem like he would change the church forever. He was short, nearsighted, wore thick glasses, and spoke with a fast, emotional intensity in an age of slow, dignified oratory. Yet this energetic, warm, and slightly unconventional bishop poured himself out for the sake of the Gospel, and in doing so, reshaped the Episcopal Church in America.
A Bishop Who Wouldn’t Sit Still
Born in Philadelphia on September 14, 1775, Hobart was ordained a deacon at the age of 23 and a priest at 26. By 36, he had become the Bishop of New York—and from there, he seemed to never stop moving
While many bishops of his era stayed close to home, Hobart traveled relentlessly, riding thousands of miles across New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey, visiting parishes and planting new ones. Horses literally dropped under his pace. He quintupled the number of clergy in his diocese, oversaw a boom in parishes, and confirmed around 15,000 people during his ministry.
But he wasn’t just tireless—he was also tender. Hobart knew the clergy in his diocese personally, remembered their families, forgave their flaws, and encouraged their gifts. He mentored young candidates for ordination, treating them like spiritual children, meeting with them weekly. He was passionate about education, founding both what is now Hobart College in Geneva, NY, and the General Theological Seminary in New York City—efforts that nearly broke his health, but built institutions still serving the church today.
Faithful to the End
Hobart’s life burned bright, and perhaps because of that, it was brief. In September 1830, while on a visitation in Auburn, New York, he fell seriously ill—most likely from a bleeding ulcer. Even in his pain, he joined in prayers, listened to the litany of Lancelot Andrewes, and offered words of advice: “Be sure that in all your preaching the doctrines of the Cross be introduced: no preaching is good for anything without these.”
As the sunlight streamed through the shutters on the evening of September 10, he whispered, “Open the shutters, that I may see more of the light… But there is a Sun of Righteousness, in whose light we shall see light.”
On Sunday morning, September 12, 1830, John Henry Hobart died at the age of 55. His funeral filled the streets of New York City with nearly 3,000 mourners, including the governor and the mayor. He is buried under the chancel of Trinity Church, where he once served as rector.
Legacy
John Henry Hobart lived as if the Church’s future depended on his faithfulness—and in many ways, it did. He proved that steadfast love and relentless energy could rebuild a wounded church. His life reminds us that God doesn’t wait for perfect people—just willing ones.
Call to Action
As we remember Bishop Hobart, let’s carry his spirit forward. Pour your whole heart into the work God has given you—whether it’s teaching a Sunday School class, checking in on a lonely neighbor, or simply showing up week after week to worship and serve.
Hobart gave his all for the Gospel.
May we be just as bold, just as steadfast, and just as joyful in using the gifts God has placed in us—trusting that no act of faithfulness is ever wasted.