Weak Like Washington

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The United States recently celebrated 250 years of independence. As lovers of history, and in honor of the recent midterm elections, my husband and I watched a mini series exploring the events leading to the American War of Independence and the establishment of the Constitution thereafter. It is called The American Experiment (streaming on Netflix). The entire series was fascinating to me and the accounts of the life of George Washington, especially in moments of weakness, were deeply moving. 

Historians often note that the biggest things Washington did for the American Revolution were immense acts of self restraint. For example, he had been offered the presidency without terms—essentially making him a monarch equal to those in Europe at the time. He thought that to be unconstitutional, nevermind that the constitution did not yet exist.

It was at Washington’s recommendation that terms were baked into the constitution requiring a limit of two terms for the presidency, which is still followed to this day. Glory came, not when he accepted positions of power, but when he returned that power to those who granted it. And yet, as remarkable as this may be, there is one scene that would hardly be a footnote had it not resonated so deeply with me on a spiritual level.

Here’s the scene, in Newburgh, New York, in 1783, the war of independence was over but Congress was not coming through for the soldiers as promised. Congress was behind in paying the army and sending provisions. So dissension began to stir among the troops and rumor spread that Congress was not up to the task of competent leadership. The troops hatched a plan to march on the continental Congress and make their demands known by force. This meeting has come to be known as the Newburgh Conspiracy. What the army didn’t anticipate was Washington bursting in wearing his full military regalia. He marched to the front of the room and read a speech known as the Newburgh Address in 1783. In his speech, he explained that he was their constant companion and witness of their distresses. He entreated them not to march on Congress because it would tarnish their reputation. Despite the compelling speech, the soldiers were not moved. His speech was not well received by the army, which had never happened before. Washington was their beloved leader, but their anger was deep. Their frustration eclipsed reason. Washington observed them in their unrest in front of him. He paused. Pulled out his spectacles and put them on since he was struggling to read in the dim light.

For some context, in the 18th century, eye glasses were a sign of old age and infirmity. So, to see George Washington do this publicly was simply jarring and disconcerting to the solders. He changed his approach and said,

“I’ve grown grey in your service. And now I find myself growing blind.”

Then something unexpected happened. The army in front of him was immediately reduced to tears. They saw that he had aged significantly in service to to them and to the cause. They recognized how hard this had been for him as well. They now held a mutual understanding and shared experience. It is in this moment that Washington simply told them, “we’re almost there, I’m just as desperate to go home as you are.” And the Newburgh Conspiracy fizzled out completely. They rallied with him and carried on. 

George Washington showed immense vulnerability in front of the army when he appeared aged and wearing glasses. He gained their confidence and support in a way that a compelling speech could not. And this was truly the most moving takeaway for me of the whole series. 

Weak like Jesus

What is it about revealing our weaknesses that draws us to each other? You’d think we would be drawn to strength, competence, and proficiency. And yet the most effective thing George Washington could do in the face of an army that was jaded and exhausted, was to show them how tired he was, too. How does the weakness of one strengthen the other? Is this not the Gospel?

Over and over, Jesus shows us that there is strength in weakness; strength in vulnerability—in revealing the struggles and difficulties. 

We see Jesus model this first as an infant! The Messiah did not come to earth in an army tank with an automatic weapon. He came as a vulnerable baby born in a village to a poor family. He was raised in obscurity and learnt to work with his hands. His ministry began, not on a podium or platform, but in parched lands—in the wilderness—where he had been fasting for 40 days and was exposed and vulnerable. 

In fact, his entire ministry was at the mercy and generosity of others. The Son of Man was not a man of independent means. The Gospel of Luke makes mention of many women who funded the ministry of Jesus. He had a deep need of others for his daily provision. But beyond this, he needed friends! In John 6, Jesus described the harsh reality of being his disciple and many in his hearing walked away. As they did, Jesus turned to his twelve disciples and asked if they were going to walk away as well.

In another Gospel account, Jesus received word of the death of his friend Lazarus and eventually went to see the grieving family. Knowing he had the power to reverse the effects of sin and death in the life of Lazarus, and he would! He still broke down and wept with Mary and the others who were in mourning. A more anguishing scene was in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus pleaded with his closest friends, Peter, James, and John to stay up with him. “Keep watch!”, Jesus said. But they couldn’t help but fall asleep. The weakness and vulnerability displayed is almost more than we can bear knowing Jesus is the Messiah.

And yet the weakness of the cross is the most perplexing of all. George Washington let his guard down for a moment, confessing his weariness and displaying signs of age by putting on a pair of glasses in public. How much more compelling is it to see God the Son hanging on the cross, bruised and beaten, scorned and shamed. Knowing it was in becoming like us. Weak like us. Vulnerable like us. Needy. Dependent. Emotional and lonely—just like us! That all of this purchased for us a redemption and righteousness and relationship with God the Father that was simply impossible without God himself becoming weak like us. Weak like Washington is one thing. Weak like Jesus changes everything.

What’s in the Ears 

This is the part where I share a song or podcast I’m currently into. The song Gethsemane by Jon Guerra is my recommendation for today. Let me know if you check it out!

If this stirred something in you, share this post with a friend or drop a comment below. I’d love to hear what small step you’re taking towards the flourishing life today! And don’t forget to subscribe so you don’t miss a thing.