All of us who are a little bit older have those anxious moments, when we have forgotten where we last placed our glasses. We simply can’t read the news- paper in front of us without our spectacles. Momentary panic sets in, and we fully realize how fragile our ability is to function without them. Are they lost? Will I find them? Why didn’t I just keep them on?

Reaching for glasses and knowing the benefit they provide are comforting feelings. This marvelous combination of wire and glass or plastic enables us to move forward in the world of thought and letters. Fortunately, hundreds of years ago, one older man knew right where to reach when he needed to correct his vision, and as the saying goes, "the rest is history." But it wasn't necessarily what he placed on his nose, as much as it was what lay in his mind's eye that allowed America to become what it is today.

Most Americans and many people around the world have heard of Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, Washington's Farewell Address or Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech. But most people haven't heard about the "Newburgh Address." This speech was given at what some consider the most important single gathering in American history. The man who reached for his glasses that day extended his influence to this present time. The question is, What did that man see that others around him could not discern? You may want to reach for your own glasses and take a closer look.

When the "fog index" becomes too high

Just like people without glasses, nations can lose their vision, and simply not know what to reach for to correct it. Oftentimes the tried, true and faithful troops of the innumerable revolutionary movements have been marching for so long, they forget what their starting point was all about. At times, it is remarkable how God intervenes in the affairs of humanity and plants indispensable men and women who allow us to answer the historian's ever-present dilemma: Does history make the man, or does the man make history?

History was in turmoil in 1783. The American colonies were two years beyond their major victory at Yorktown, but no formal peace treaty with "Mother England" had been ratified. "The Great Experiment" of establishing a republic in the New World seemed ready to blow up in everyone's face. Donald T. Phillips, in his book The Founding Fathers on Leadership, offers an accurate portrayal of this period in the chapter titled "Human Nature." Allow me to share just three of 12 points he offers on page 211: 1) New problems are often created after a revolution is won. 2) A period of transition can be more dangerous and turbulent than war itself. 3) Remember that whenever there is an interest and power to do wrong, wrong will generally be done.

Years earlier, in his revolutionary pamphlet Common Sense, Thomas Paine had penned, "These are the times that try men's souls." But now in 1783, an infant nation was being "weighed in the balances." For many officers, it had been years since they had been paid for their services to their new country. An enfeebled Congress attempted to pawn off the responsibility to the local states. The power struggle between those wanting a centralized federal government and those wanting looser decentralized states was already in full sway. Which direction would the army go? Who would they turn their wrath upon? They held a deep conviction that an ungrateful government had ignored them.

The indispensable man

One man would reach for his glasses, but not quite yet. The man was none other than George Washington. James T. Flexner calls him "the indispensable man." In his book by the same title, Flexner describes how Washington was being encouraged towards "brinkmanship" with Congress over this matter with a standing army at his "beck and call." On page 171, the author describes how the young Alexander Hamilton, then both a congressman and colonel, reported to his mentor, "'There were no further possibilities of supplying the army; by June the troops would have to take everything they need by bayonet point.' Hamilton went on to make plain that Washington's own command was in danger. They might very well act without him. Then the 'difficulty will be to keep a complaining and suffering army within the bounds of moderation'" (Washington, The Indispensable Man, James Thomas Flexner, 1974).

Washington would spend weeks deliberating on the words that had come to him. Here at Newburgh, New York, he would puzzle over the "predicament of which I stand as citizen and soldier." As Flexner points out, "The efforts of the United States to form a republican government were unique in the world. Modern history presented no evidence that people could rule themselves." It was thought that a republic could only exist on a much smaller scale.

Why not accept the inevitable and be in step with his officers? Flexner conveys, "The injustices being visited upon the army were obvious and no peaceful remedies were in sight" (ibid., p. 172). Flexner deliberates with powerful musing, "In a world of kings, why should not George Washington also be king?" Washington ultimately concluded in a note to Hamilton in early March, "I shall pursue the same steady line of conduct which has governed me hitherto." The die was cast. Washington, the most powerful man and natural leader in the fledgling confederation of former colonies, would be subservient to a civilian government.

Through the camp at Newburgh, anonymous letters began to circulate. Some called for clandestine meetings in defiance of Washington's authority. Another letter urged its readers "to suspect the man who would advise to more moderation and further forbearance." Finally, Washington struck a preemptive blow and called his own meeting to head off any clandestine gathering.

The meeting began with an icy chill in the air between this living legend and his officers.

He reminded them of his care for their country and for them. He asked them to reflect on the fact that the possible foe that lay ahead of them was actually their own country made up of our "wives, children, farms and other property."

In deriding the anonymous letter's insult regarding his own moderation, he retorted this would mean that "reason is of no use to us. The freedom of speech may be taken away, and dumb and silent, we may be led, like sheep, to the slaughter." Flexner goes on to share the appeal of a man who, as we would say, "went for broke," as he finished by imploring them "not to open the gates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood." Encouraging them to maintain their composure under incredible pressure, he concluded, "Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining."

"Permit me to put on my spectacles"

The audience remained unmoved. Talk about the proverbial "tough crowd"! Their initial chill toward the speaker had remained firmly in place; in fact, the general mood was one of deep anxiety. To this point, Washington had failed to move his audience. He then remembered a reassuring letter that a congressman had written him that he thought might encourage his audience.

Author Flexner paints the rest of the picture as if we were invited into the room. "He pulled the paper from his pocket, and then something seemed to go wrong. The General seemed confused; he stared at the paper helplessly. The officers leaned forward, their hearts contracting with anxiety. Washington pulled from his pocket something only his intimates had seen him wear; a pair of eyeglasses. 'Gentlemen,' he said, 'You will permit me to put on my spectacles for I have not only grown gray but almost blind in the service of my country.'"

It's often been said that a picture is worth a thousand words. As Flexner so clearly defines, "This homely act and simple statement did what all of Washington's arguments had failed to do. The hardened soldiers wept." Thomas Jefferson, another of the founding fathers, would later record his thoughts regarding Washington's actions in this matter. He wrote, "The moderation and virtue of a single character probably prevented this revolution from being closed, as most others have been, by a subversion of that liberty it was intended to establish."

You might say, "Nice story, but can I put my glasses down now?" No, keep them on and let's understand the significance of this one man's impact on human history to our day. Washington was a man who understood power and its limits. His submission to the Continental Congress in 1783 set in place the principle that the American armed forces would always be subject to civilian authority. That has produced an incredible stability in this nation that remains to this day. Beyond that, he was willing to walk away from power again and again. As he sought to give it away, more was given to him because he could be trusted.

A little more sweet reasonableness

At Newburgh, Washington was vilified by his opponents for his "more moderation and further forbearance." Amazingly, this is a quality that God encourages. The apostle Paul in Philippians 4:5 (KJV) encourages that our "moderation be known unto all men."

Interestingly, in the Revised Standard Version the word "forbearance" is used. The original Greek word epieikes denotes a "sweet reasonableness." Other renderings suggest a certain pliability or yieldedness. Oh, how world news, and the prophecy yet ahead of us, would be so different were there leaders with a little more "sweet reasonableness"! Our present time calls for leaders who are moved by principles and motivated by sound character.

When Washington needed to strengthen his vision, he reached for his spectacles. By doing so, he brought the curtain down on a brewing revolt. He clearly had the big picture of what was needed for his country in the years to come. His vision reached far beyond his spectacles.

Isaiah 30:21 exhorts us, "This is the way, walk you in it." Perhaps this biblical encouragement is echoed best in the sentiments of George Washington when he was later to thank the Ruler of the Universe, "the Greatest and Best of Beings," for having led him to "detest the madness and folly of blind ambition." Oh, by the way, you can put your own spectacles down now; I think you've got the picture.