Bishop Carl J. Sanders, 33°, Grand Cross
United Methodist Church (Ret.)
Grand Chaplain of the Supreme Council
4016 Meadowview Circle
Birmingham, Alabama 35243–5636

George Washington came as close as anyone in our history to being the
indispensable man.


Photo: Bishop Carl J. Sanders, 33°, G.C., Scottish Rite Hall of Honor Portrait
Isaiah sat in church one day, but apparently his mind was not on the sermon. You do not have to stretch your imagination too far to know some people are in church with their minds elsewhere. Some are thinking of the week ahead, and others are catching up on their sleep. A good sermon helps people in different ways. Some, because they listen, rise greatly strengthened; others, because they sleep, rise greatly refreshed.

The burden upon Isaiah's mind was the plight of his country. The peril was a powerful enemy sweeping everything before it, and his land was next on the agenda. The turmoil was made greater by the sudden death of the king, leaving the land without leadership. In that setting, Isaiah heard the challenge and made his answer—"Here am I, send me."

In another land and another century, colonial America was in trouble. Driven without mercy or relief by the powers of Great Britain, faced with the most powerful army and navy in the world, what could 13 separate colonies do? They could fight, and the Battle at Lexington and Concord had already been reported.

The Second Continental Congress, meeting in May 1775, did two things: it voted to establish a Colonial Army of 20,000 troops, and it elected George Washington as Commander-in-Chief. Washington did not seek the job, it was treason in the eyes of the Crown, but, like Isaiah, he said, in substance, "Here am I, send me!"

For six years, he fought with never enough troops, never enough equipment, never enough uniforms, never enough food, never enough money. Victory came at Yorktown, Virginia, in 1781, and the legacy he left is best summed up in the words of General Henry "Lighthorse Harry" Lee in a funeral oration upon the death of Washington: "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen."

This legacy was built upon his unconquerable faith in America—a new nation, under God. This nation was born of an idea, the idea of FREEDOM. Go back and read again Fred Kleinknecht's little volume Anchor of Liberty. Listen to him as he speaks of the pilgrims who came seeking religious freedom, the peasants who came seeking economic freedom, the minorities who came seeking cultural freedom, and the workers who came seeking individual freedom.

The great American dramatist Maxwell Anderson describes a moving experience in his play Valley Forge. Hope was at a low level. Some of Washington's men came to him and said they could not go on. Without hope and without food fit to eat, they must leave. Others had already gone, deserting a desperate cause. Almost half the army was sick. The winter was cold, the outlook bleak. Washington spoke to his disheartened men: "What I fight for now is a dream—a mirage perhaps—something that has never been on this earth since man first worked it with his hands, something that has never existed and never will exist, unless we make it and put it here, the right of freeborn men to govern themselves in their own way. If we have lost interest in this cause, we have lost our war, lost it completely, and the men we have left lying on our battlefields died for nothing whatever, for a dream that came too early and may never come true. We mark time here, gentlemen, and there is much to do." Then, after pausing and looking around at his men, he went out.

They did not leave. Whatever may have been their doubts, Washington's faith rallied their courage, and their loyalty held. Who was this man, George Washington, after whom our national capital is named, plus one state, 33 counties, 22 cities and towns, 7 mountains, 9 colleges, and 121 post offices in the United States?

More than any other single individual, he, as the Commander-in-Chief of the American Forces, was responsible for our victory in the Revolutionary War. More than any other single individual, he, as the first President of the United States, gave stability and character to an infant nation seeking its place in the family of nations.

Furthermore, Washington's faith gave hope and courage to others in the greatest ordeal of their lives. While the Colonials fought the Battle of Long Island, the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776. Fifty-six men signed the Declaration knowing it was treason in the eyes of the Crown. Each man knew he was not only signing away the safety and security of himself, but that of his family. His possessions and his life were on the line—but not a man hesitated.

Retaliation came quickly. Nine died of wounds or hardship. Five were imprisoned under brutal treatment. Twelve had their homes burned, and, note it well, any one of these men could have turned back anytime he chose. Immunity was offered, rewards of money promised, restoration of homes and release of family guaranteed. But history records with pride that not a single one of them wavered! They were not saints, but for their dedication to a cause, for their commitment to a country, they will never be forgotten. This nation has never known their equal, before or since.

Finally, Washington's greatest legacy is his character. His decisions might have been questioned, but not his character. It happened in Newburgh, New York, in 1783. Unsigned papers began circulating through the camp suggesting that anarchy and chaos were overwhelming America. The army intended to use bayonets to take over civil government and crown Washington king. And why not? In a world of kings, why should not George Washington also be a king? Ignoring Washington's authority, one paper announced a mass meeting of officers. The Commander-in-Chief expressed deep regret regarding such an illegally called meeting and summoned a meeting of his own for Saturday, March 15, 1783. This was probably the most important single gathering ever held in the United States. Suppose, as seemed only too possible, Washington should fail to prevent military intervention in civil government.

Washington gave a prepared speech, but his audience did not seem truly moved. He remembered he had brought with him a reassuring letter from a Congressman. He pulled the paper from his pocket, and then something appeared 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."

This humble act and simple statement did what all Washington's arguments failed to do. The hardened soldiers wept and abandoned their plan to impose military rule. Washington had saved the United States from tyranny and civil discord.
If anyone tries to sum up the significance of Washington's career in a single word, that word might well be character. It was character that carried him, at the age of 21, across hundreds of miles through bitter cold, snow, and sleet, and past Indian ambushes, bringing a message from Governor Dinwiddie to the French. It was character that made him fight on in the Revolution when a large percentage of the American people were against the cause for which he stood and when all 13 of the Colonies failed dismally to support him with men, money, weapons, and supplies. And it was character that enabled him to win the respect of the world and to give to the position of President of the United States the dignity and prestige which it achieved during his eight years in that office.

In George Washington, we recognized a great, a good, a brave, and a patriotic American. Without him, there would have been no victory in war, no stability in peace. He came as close as anyone in our history to being the indispensable man. He was truly that man sent from God!

Beyond his military genius as a Commander-in-Chief of the American Forces, beyond his wise and courageous leadership as the first President of the United States, beyond heavy responsibilities and daily decisions of great magnitude, beyond all this is the unblemished record of this Master Mason whose character was his credential.


The above article, edited for length, is the text of Bishop Sander's sermon delivered at the Supreme Council's Biennial Session Albert Pike Memorial Service, St. John's Church, Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., on October 3, 1999. The sermon is based on Isaiah 6:1–8.
Carl J. Sanders
is a retired Bishop of the United Methodist Church. He has served as a minister and a Mason for over half a century, receiving his 50-year Masonic pin in 1987 in his home Lodge, Shades Valley No. 829 of Homewood, Alabama. He received the Grand Cross, the Scottish Rite of Freemasonry's highest honor, at the 1991 Biennial Session of the Supreme Council, 33°.