Thank you for your service.
It seems as though we must have gathered here to say these words, or something like them, to the ghost of George Washington, or at least, as we say in the Troop, to say them to his memory. Perhaps that is why we came here today: to add our voices to the long echo of nearly 250 years of memory and gratitude directed to the man who we can rightly call, in so many ways, the father of our nation. But it’s possible that this is not the reason we have gathered here.
A recent survey by USAA found that veterans below the age of 45 overwhelmingly respond unfavorably to the sentiments they perceive are being expressed when they hear someone say “Thank you for your service.” The implication seems to be that many veterans in the post-Vietnam era, find the phrase empty, articulating only the most superficial meaning.
I understand the impulse of those of us who haven’t served to try to bridge the gap between us and those of you who have served in the Armed Forces. But it’s possible that the effect of such a small phrase falls far short of the task. And it’s possible that it would be a superficial way of remembering the contributions of George Washington to this country, by gathering here to say “Thank you for your service,” to his memory. Maybe it’s the case that we should try, instead, to listen to the memory of George Washington on this day.
On the 19th of September, 1796, the Farewell Address of George Washington was published in a Philadelphia newspaper. Washington had decided not to seek another term as president. Following the premiere of the Farewell Address in the Philadelphia Daily American Advertiser, it was then published in papers across the country.
In our own day and age, we are accustomed to office-holders taking every opportunity to burnish their records and establish their legacies, to maximize the potential political leverage of every situation for their own political gain, even in departure or retirement. And it feels as though we don’t often see our public servants stepping down unless they have to. George Washington didn’t have to step down, and many were surprised that he chose to do so. Of course, he wasn’t only the president, and he wasn’t merely the commander in chief: he had served as the commander of the Continental Army that won the liberty of the nation, and changed the course of history. If ever there was a man for whom the words, “Thank you for your service” might be uttered, you’d think it would have been George Washington. No doubt there were people who expressed such sentiment to the esteemed man.
Early in his Farewell Address, which is largely concerned with the importance of preserving the unity of the young nation, the danger of political factionalism, and the risk of foreign entanglements, Washington, far from seeking adulation for his own record of service, was at pains to express “acknowledgement of that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved country.” Washington went on to say to the people of the nation, who had twice elected him to the highest office, that “the constancy of your support was the essential prop of the efforts” he’d made in service to the nation. “If benefits have resulted to our country from these services [of his], let it always be remembered to your praise,” he wrote. It was as though he was saying to the people of the United States, “Thank you for allowing me to serve.”
“My feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep acknowledgement of that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved country….”
It is possible that the designers of the US Capitol got carried away, when, by way of thanking George Washington for his service, they had painted in the rotunda a large fresco that depicts “the apotheosis of George Washington.” “Apotheosis” means “the exaltation of a person to the rank of a god.” That’s even rarer and more wonderful than election to the Honorary Roll of The First City Troop (so, it’s pretty good). But Washington wasn’t trying to be elevated to god-like status. He just wanted to get home to his farm.
Scholars tell us that the words we heard read earlier from the prophet Micah were among Washington’s favorite biblical passages, which he referenced repeatedly. It was not, however, the hope that “they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks” that brought the great man back to this passage again and again. Rather, it was to be reminded that when warfare shall come to an end, then, eventually, “they shall sit every man under his vine and fig tree, and none shall make them afraid….” Washington yearned to return to his own private life at Mount Vernon, and to sit there under his own vine and fig tree, so to speak. It’s possible that he felt he had been given divine assurance of his right to retire in some shade by the Potomac in Virginia.
But he could not do so, without first expressing his gratitude to his nation for what had been given to him in the gift of this country, which he helped give birth to: the father thanking the child for the gift of its birth. “My feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep acknowledgement of that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved country….” Thank you for allowing me to serve.
People come to church for many reasons, including because they have been told it’s required, and they have no other option. (Not that that reason applies to anyone here.) But one of the principal reasons to come to church is to give thanks. We give thanks to God every single day in this church, for the many blessings he bestows on us in so many ways. Today, those blessings include the many blessings he has bestowed on us, in this nation, in the person of George Washington, in the fellowship of the First City Troop, in the service of the men and women of the armed forces, and in the sacrifice of those who gave their lives in the course of that service.
And it makes sense that when we gather to honor the memory of George Washington, we are here, not so much to express our thanks to him for his service, but to direct our thanks toward God for the gifts and the talents he bestowed on our first president, and for what an extraordinary return Washington made of God’s investment of those gifts in him.
Just a few lines later in his Farewell Address, Washington offered something like his own benediction on the people of the country he fought to establish. “I shall carry it with me to my grave,” he wrote, “as a strong incitement to unceasing vows that Heaven may continue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence…” which is another way of saying something like, “May God grant you every blessing of the highest order.”
And it seems good and right to gather near the anniversary of his death, not merely so that we can thank him for his service, but to remember before God that benediction, and to listen to the echo of George Washington, himself, as he acknowledges “the debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved country.”
It’s the kind of thing that would normally prompt us in the Troop to call for a song. But since we cannot ask our long departed friend to sing, instead, we’ll have to let it suffice that we shall join Washington in an expression of the debt of gratitude that we, too, owe to this country, and to offer our songs today to God’s praise and glory, but also, to the memory of George Washington. To his memory. Amen.
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
at the Service for the First Troop Philadelphia City Cavalry
in memory of George Washington
10 December 2023
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia
