Warder Cresson (1798-1860) was born into a prominent Quaker family in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. By 1827, he began openly questioning core Quaker beliefs and, by 1840, moved from one religious group to another—including the Shakers, Mormons, Seventh-day Adventists, and Campbellites.
Eventually, he found his way to Mikveh Israel, Philadelphia’s foremost Jewish congregation. There, he was warmly welcomed by Chazzan Isaac Leeser (1806-1868) who introduced him to biblical interpretation and Jewish perspectives on Moshiach. Through Leeser, Cresson encountered the writings of Mordechai Manuel Noach, a leading Jewish political leader who advocated for American support of a Jewish homeland in the Middle East.
Eager to contribute to this cause, Cresson lobbied a local congressman, Edward Joy Morris, to nominate him as America’s first consul to Jerusalem. The U.S. State Department approved the appointment, and on May 17, 1844, Cresson was officially named consul.
He left behind his wife, six children, and a prosperous farm, writing in his diary at the time of his exit: “In the Spring of 1844, I left everything near and dear to me on earth. I left the wife of my youth and six lovely children (dearer to me than my natural life), and an excellent farm, with everything comfortable around me. I left all these in the pursuit of truth, and for the sake of Truth alone.”
However, controversy surrounded his appointment. Critics questioned his suitability due to his fervent religious views. Just eight days after his appointment, Secretary of State John C. Calhoun revoked it, citing the government’s decision not to establish a consulate in Jerusalem.
Unaware of the reversal, Cresson arrived in Jaffa proudly waving an American flag in one hand. He immediately began functioning as the U.S. consul, creating a seal to use in his correspondence as the representative of the United States and declaring to Jerusalem’s Jewish community that in his role as consul, he would ensure they were now under the American government’s protection.
Upon learning of his revoked status, Cresson ignored the order, remaining in Jerusalem and continuing his self-appointed diplomatic role. With no interference from either the Ottoman authorities or the U.S. government, he was left to act freely. Shortly after his arrival, Cresson wrote a glowing piece describing in overjoyed terms the ancient but neglected city of Jerusalem, which was in stark contrast to most other visitors who viewed it as dirty and dilapidated. His book, Jerusalem, the Centre and Joy of the Whole Earth, was published in Philadelphia and London.
Affected by the spiritual atmosphere of Jerusalem, Cresson’s interest in Judaism deepened and assumed the name Michoel Boaz Israel (מיכאל בועז ישראל). He also became a frequent contributor to The Occident, Isaac Leeser’s magazine, between 1844 and 1848. Cresson grew particularly close to the Sefardic community, including the future Chief Rabbi, R' Yaakov Shaul Elyashar.
Eventually, he formally converted to Judaism. He writes, “I remained in Jerusalem in my former faith until the 28th day of March, 1848 when I became fully satisfied that I could never obtain Strength and Rest, but by doing as Ruth did, and saying to her mother-in-law, or Naomi ‘Entreat me not to leave thee for whither thou goest I will go’... In short, upon the 28th day of March, 1848, I was circumcised, entered the Holy Covenant and became a Jew.”
He kept in touch with his family in America, writing letters about his spiritual journey and his new name, Michoel Boaz Israel ben Avraham. But when he returned to Philadelphia in September 1848, he was met with betrayal. His wife, Elizabeth, had sold the family farm and his belongings. She refused to negotiate a settlement, and—with other family members—accused him of insanity for his conversion.
The charge of “lunacy” led to a sensational legal battle. Though a sheriff’s jury initially ruled him insane, Cresson contested the decision. Over nearly three years, more than a hundred witnesses were called. The trial became a national headline. At its heart was a debate about religious freedom and whether converting to Judaism could be seen as evidence of mental illness. Cresson’s attorney, Horatio Hubbell Jr., framed the case as a defense of First Amendment rights. “The only charge left with which to accuse my client,” he declared, “is that he became a Jew!” Public sentiment swung in Cresson’s favor, and newspapers hailed the final verdict as a major victory for religious liberty. The Philadelphia Public Ledger wrote that the ruling had settled forever the principle that a man’s religious opinions can never be made the test of his sanity.
Though vindicated, Cresson left most of his property to his family and returned to Jerusalem in 1852. Back in the Holy Land, he devoted himself to improving Jewish life. He promoted agricultural regeneration among the Jewish community, aiming to reduce their reliance on Christian charities—whose goal was often conversion rather than charity.
Cresson made a new life for himself in Israel, living as an Orthodox Sefardi Jew. He married Rachel Moledano, and together they had two children, both of whom tragically died young. He left no Jewish descendants.
When Warder Cresson (Michoel Boaz Israel) passed away on November 6, 1860, all Jewish businesses in Jerusalem closed in his honor, and the entire community attended his funeral. He was buried on Har Hazeisim but without descendants, over time, his grave was forgotten. In 2013, Warder Cresson’s gravesite was rediscovered, allowing us to honor this remarkable person.
