My vote: Enmegahbowh
Dorothy L. Sayers’ legacy is obviously her detective novels featuring Lord Peter Wimsey, and less obviously advertising campaigns for Guinness (the Guinness Toucan is hers) and translations of Dante’s Divine Comedy and The Song of Roland. She was friends with G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis and wrote my favorite description of Lewis in a letter, "I do admit that he is apt to write shocking nonsense about women and marriage. (That, however, is not because he is a bad theologian but because he is a rather frightened bachelor.)” 
Enmegahbowh was born in what is now Canada around 1820 and raised in an Ojibwe village with Methodist missionaries. He was sent to be educated but ran away after three months. He was baptized by an Episcopalian missionary in Minnesota and was later ordained as a deacon and in 1867 a priest. 1862 in Minnesota saw the Dakota Uprising, which began as a series of attacks against white settlers after numerous broken treaties. Enmegahbowh tried to prevent further violence by preventing other Ojibwa bands from joining the fighting, although he was resented and threatened for interfering. He nevertheless joined his people on the White Earth Indian Reservation in northern Minnesota, dying there in 1902.
My choice of Enmegahbowh is hard to explain, or maybe there’s not much of a reason for it. Both he and Dorothy have their pluses and minuses. Enmegahbowh tried to help protect his people, but he also helped convert them, aiding in the destruction, intentional or not of their traditional lifestyle. Dorothy was a product of her time, a traditionalist who was essentially a feminist but also an Anti-Semite. This is when I trust my Lent Madness gut, and my gut chose Enmegahbowh.

​My vote: Joanna
Monica is the patron saint of (among other patronages) disappointing children. I feel that sums up her life, unfortunately. She has come down through history as a nagging mother whose main purpose in life seems to be keeping an eye on her son. She may have inspired him, but she deserves better.
Joanna is mentioned by name in the Bible, in Luke 8:3 and Luke 24:10. Joanna seems to have supported Jesus and his disciples “out of (her) resources” probably meaning money. Along with Mary Magdalene and Mary, mother of James, Joanna was one of the first people to spread the news of Jesus’ resurrection, even though the apostles didn’t believe it. At least one scholar has (credibly, in my opinion) identified Joanna as the same person as Junia mentioned by St. Paul in Romans 16:7, who was in prison with him and he describes as “prominent among the apostles, and (she was) in Christ before I was.” Women were integral to Jesus’ ministry from the beginning and Joanna/Junia proves it, which is why she gets my vote.

​My vote: Scholastica
There’s quite a bit to appreciate about Richard Hooker. He trod the fine line between Catholicism and Protestantism to help develop Anglicanism in the 16th century, a time when such divisions had caused vicious fighting in France and the Holy Roman Empire. He believed that the organization of church was not important to salvation, that God didn’t care about whether a religion had priests or pastors, bishops or popes. He was Lawful Good, in D&D alignment charts. Obey the law, even wrong laws, and create change from within. 
Then you have Scholastica. She was the sister (twin? biological? spiritual? who knows) of Saint Benedict of Nursia, creator of the Benedictine order of monks. They were very close, and Benedict would visit her and spend hours talking about scripture. One day, Scholastica sensed she would die and never see her brother again. When he tried to leave, she asked him to stay. That would break the Benedictine rules and just because he was Benedict didn’t mean he could break those rules willy-nilly, so he said no. She didn’t argue, but prayed and suddenly a storm began outside, preventing travel. Scholastica explained that Benedict hadn’t listened, so she asked God and he did listen. Benedict stayed. Three days later, Scholastica died. 
I strongly appreciate a woman who knows what she wants and how best to get it. What was Benedict going to do, argue with God? Scholastica gets my vote. 
Unrelated to her story, the St. Scholastica’s Day riots at the University of Oxford started on her feast day (February 10) in 1355. The students complained about the quality of wine they were served and it turned into a brawl. Around 93 people died, including 63 students. The town of Oxford was made to pay a penance of one penny per student killed every year for 470 years. Moral: don’t mess with students and their wine.

​My vote: Olga (pronounced Ole-yah)
Bertha’s story is very nice. As queen consort of late 6th century Kent, she helped spread Christianity in England. She’s the reason the British have an Archbishop of Canterbury. Yay for her. 
Olga ruled the Kyivan Rus (modern Ukraine and the foundation of the future Russian Empire) on behalf of her toddler son Sviatoslav in the 10th century. Her husband Prince Igor had been brutally killed by the Drevlians, a Slavic tribe. I’ll spare you the details, which may be legendary, but it’s kind of reverse tree-hugging. Olga plotted revenge. She agreed to marry Prince Mal of the Drevlians when he proposed. The Drevlians who had brought the proposal were thrilled and agreed to return to be honored by Olga’s people. The people carried the Drevlians with honor to Olga’s court, where they were thrown into a trench and buried alive. With honor.
Olga sent a message requesting more distinguished Drevlians to escort her to Prince Mal. Unaware of the previous group’s fate, more Drevlians arrived and were led to a bath house to freshen up. Then Olga and her people set the bath house on fire. With honor.
Another message, another trap for the Drevlians: a funeral feast at the tomb of Olga’s late husband. Drunk Drevlians destroyed by Olga’s army. The Drevlians finally figured out that Olga did not have honorable intentions and retreated. Olga laid siege to the city of Korosten in modern Ukraine. After a year, the Drevlians agreed to pay Olga a tribute to end the siege. She promised in return that her vengeance was finished, no more tricks. All she wanted was three pigeons and three sparrows from each home in the city. Do you believe her?
Well the Drevlians did, and once Olga had the birds, she had sulfur soaked cloth attached to the birds’ tail feathers and set on fire. When the panicked birds flew back to their nests in the roofs of houses, they lit the city ablaze. Anyone fleeing the flames was killed by Olga’s army.
Why on earth is she a saint after all of this?! 
When she converted to Christianity around 955, she was the most powerful convert in the history of the Kyivan Rus. Although her son would not convert, others followed her example and he agreed not to persecute any who did. This opened up all of Eastern Europe to Christianity. 
Now, how much of this is true? We don’t know. Olga’s story is probably embellished or made up. But by God, it’s entertaining. A woman successfully wielding so much power more than a thousand years ago? Olga gets my vote, no contest.

​My vote: Florence Li Tim-Oi
Nicolaus von Zinzendorf is not personally offensive to me, but he was an early advocate and deployer of Christian missionaries, and such missionaries (Moravian like Zinzendorf and otherwise) have had such a negative impact that I cannot support him.
Florence was the first ordained to the priesthood in the Anglican Communion. During the 2nd Sino-Japanese War, she helped refugees and administered communion with permission by her bishop due to the lack of actual priests available, and was unofficially ordained by him in 1944. The next decades would see her persecuted for her faith by the Communist government of China. She was officially recognized in 1971, and lived the rest of her life in Toronto. The first woman to get any kind of official recognition in a leadership role in any Christian denomination must be pretty special, which is why Florence gets my vote. Sorry Moravians.

​My vote: Augustine of Hippo
Augustine has such a huge influence; it’s hard to compete with him! Hippolytus’s life is fairly legendary, which makes me, as a historian nervous. I prefer saints based in fact, not legend (a preference I ignore when I feel like it, see Olga on Saturday). As a reformed sinner, Augustine is like us: he’s not perfect, nor does he claim to be. His redemption is not only that he accepted Christ, but that he studied Christ’s word and tried his best to live by those words.

Today is Ash Wednesday, a day of contemplation. Tomorrow begins Lent Madness, a somewhat silly tournament to determine which of 32 nominated saints will win the Golden Halo. There will be a vote each week day of Lent, and one Saturday (February 25), narrowing the nominees into the Saintly 16, then the Elate 8, next the Faithful 4, and finally the Golden Halo winner! 
I will be posting about the nominated saints at the beginning of each week here, and recommend you follow Lent Madness on Facebook, and you can read more about it here.
Thank you for joining me this year as we learn about the saints gone before us and ponder how we can learn from them. Good luck!