Elmer Joseph Miller Memorial Service (2016 11 30)

Memorial Service – Elmer Joseph Miller
Schmidt Dhonau Kucner Funeral Home
Sharonville, OH
30 November 2016


Good afternoon.  For those of you with whom I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, please allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Justin DuBose and I married into the Miller family – which could make you feel one of two ways about me.  Depending on how you feel about being a part of this great family, that decision either communicates to you that my decision-making ability is either far superior or extremely questionable.  In either case, when I chose to marry one of Elmer’s granddaughters, Alanna, I still consider it one of the greatest decisions of my life and I truly consider myself an immeasurably blessed man because of my connection to this remarkable family.  Thank you for letting me be a part of the family and thank you for inviting me and allowing me the privilege of speaking here this afternoon on behalf of Elmer.
In many ways, I feel rather inadequate standing before you this afternoon.  Not only am I charged with speaking about a man whose life was full of great accomplishments, but I also feel as though many of you, because of your deep connection to Elmer, are probably more capable of speaking to his life than am I.  So, if you'll grant me a healthy measure of grace, I am going to give my best effort to take a full 91 years of accomplished life and condense it into the length that our attention spans can endure, which studies suggest is not very long!  I'll give you my very best in honoring the man that Elmer was, look at the larger question of the purpose of life, and constrain each of us to evaluate ourselves in the light of our own mortality.
    As you all know, and as his obituary so eloquently stated, Elmer Miller was a member of America’s “greatest generation”.  Coined by the television journalist Tom Brokaw, this term is fitting not only of a faceless and nameless generation of millions of Americans, but also specifically and especially of Elmer Miller.  Brokaw settled on this moniker not because there were any inherent characteristics of these men and women that somehow elevated them above previous and future generations, but very simply, as he said, because they “fought not for fame and recognition, but because it was ‘the right thing to do’.”
    Although I did not know Elmer Miller near as long as many of you, I did have the distinct privilege of getting to know him over the last almost fifteen years.  Elmer and I had several conversations about his life and experiences, and each of those conversations have allowed me to draw out some special characteristics from his life that not only made him the extraordinary human being he was, but most certainly placed him into the category of the “greatest generation” whose life can be encapsulated by simply “doing the right thing.”
    Back in April of 2011 I was having a conversation with Elmer about his life and I realized that this setting provided the perfect opportunity to record our conversations so that my children – his great-grandchildren – might know of his life from Elmer himself even if they never had the privilege of having these conversations with him personally.  So, over the next two days I asked him everything from his family history, to his life in grade school, to his wartime experiences, and into his adult life.  I asked him as many questions as he was gracious enough to entertain in an effort to know, understand, and appreciate this man who now kindly let me call him “grandpa”.  This week, in preparing for today, I went back and watched that footage and was reminded why there was a “greatest generation” and why Grandpa Miller was certainly a part of it.
    Grandpa’s life was undeniably rooted in a deep and unwavering work ethic.  What immediately comes to mind for most is his selfless service in World War II.  He flew almost 25 missions in the Pacific Theatre over Japan, the Philippines, and the Palau Islands.  This type of work was not only incredibly dangerous and often even fatal, but it was also just plain old hard.  Being responsible, as he was, for thousands of pounds of munitions meant a day-in and day-out routine of repeatedly loading and unloading thousands of pounds of bombs, not to mention accomplishing all of this in a variety of locations that lacked any form of modern comfort and convenience.  He did it because it needed to be done and because it was the right thing to do.  But, travel with me upstream of his wartime service and we will discover together that this was no isolated incident but rather, and very differently, a characteristic that made grandpa who he was and provides a defining distinctive of his life.
    He told me of his experience delivering newspapers as a “newsie” in the years immediately following the Great Depression.  “Why, when I was in high school”, he said, “we earned $1 for delivering newspapers around the neighborhood.”  “How many newspapers would you deliver before you could collect your dollar?” I asked.  His answer: about 400.  And, though math is not my strong suit, even I can calculate that the algebra for that equation equals a quarter of a cent per newspaper.  Now, if I were in grandpa’s shoes as a young opportunistic teenager, I would be very tempted to rationalize why this endeavor was not worth my time, but it needed to be done and it was the right thing to do, and so he did it.
    He also told me that they would collect papers from the same neighborhoods after they had been read.  These “newsies” were charged with collecting an entire wagonload of old newspapers, which they would then return for recycling.  It took them an entire workday to gather a wagonload of these discarded papers and, once they brought a wagonload in, they were rewarded with a whole quarter for their efforts.  After he shared that with me, I asked what I thought was a fairly logical question: “What would you spend your quarter on, grandpa?”  He looked at me, puzzled, for a moment, as if to say, “I don’t understand the question.  What do you mean spend my quarter?”  Then he responded, “Oh, we saved it.”  And, thus, our conversation about spending money ended as quickly as it began.  He worked all day for a quarter, because it was the right thing to do and he saved whatever money he earned, because it was just the right thing to do.
    Another distinctive of grandpa’s life that surfaced in our conversation was his deep love and concern for people; for his fellow man.  Periodically, I would cease my interviewer role and simply listen and see what nuggets of wisdom would surface with no prompting.  Almost without exception, he spoke of the people in his life and his love and concern for them.  His mother, Louanna, was not an infrequent guest in our talks.  On several occasions, he mentioned to me that he was 15 years old when she died of pneumonia and would reference the date of her passing: February 5, 1941.  I learned of how he helped care for his younger sister, Ruth Ann, for three years and bore much of the burden of care for his younger brother, Donald, when he fell deathly ill for two weeks with spinal meningitis.  He had to feed him, I learned, with an eye dropper and he could only take water and corn syrup.  
After his beautiful wife of 61 years, Belle, passed in 2010 (after whom we named our second daughter) he spoke so fondly and tenderly of her that his deep love and concern could not go unnoticed.  He told me of how amazingly intelligent she was and, through teary and misty eyes, remarked that if our Belle was half as smart as his Belle that she certainly had a bright future ahead of her.  And he talked of his boys, all five of them, and how, each in their own way, he was proud of them and the lives they led.
This deep love and concern for people surfaced not only when speaking of his family, but also of his experience in World War II.  On one occasion, a password or “safeword” was given out to all the troops so that the sentry, in the dark hours of evening, would be able to discern who was a “friendly” and who was “the enemy.”  Well, as grandpa told the story, he was down by the ocean and didn’t hear the password.  So, when questioned by the sentry about the password, he of course couldn’t supply him with this magic phrase because he never heard it to begin with.  Through a series of events, he somehow got shot in his foot.  He didn’t realize this until later when his boot was full of blood.  I said to him, “Grandpa, you could have received a purple heart for that wound!”  “I suppose I could have”, he said.  “But, I didn’t say anything about it because I was afraid he would have gotten in trouble for shooting me.”  Once again: love and concern for his fellow man.
Most expressive and telling to me, though, was a story he told of a bombing mission over a particular city in Japan.  He was responsible for dropping the bombs when he was instructed.  He received the order to “kick the bomb”, as they called it.  He pulled the lever, but the explosive was momentarily hung up on something.  This brief delay caused him to miss his target by about 100 yards, thereby dropping the 1,000 pound bomb in a field just outside of the city rather than directly on top of it.  His love and concern for people surfaced most beautifully when he then said, “I’m glad we missed because we would have killed a lot of people.”  Even in war against an unrelenting enemy, grandpa never lost his concern for humanity.  This love and concern, no doubt, compelled him to devote his adult life after the war to education and public service.


These are just a few of the characteristics that surfaced about grandpa’s life that highlighted, for me, the type of person he was and the life he lived.  And, while it is impossible to encapsulate a full 91 years of life in such a short period of time, this is just some of what endeared me to him and caused his life to inspire and shape my own in a significant way.
It is really a testament to the inherent value that life has that brought us all here today.  Sure – this is a memorial service for Elmer Miller, but is a memorial to his life and a celebration of that life that brings families and friends together for occasions such as this.  We understand that life itself is precious, immeasurably valuable, and, above all, worthy of remembering and celebrating together.  It’s life, not death, that brought us here today and, if you’ll indulge me for a few moments longer, I’d like to share with you a truth that radically transformed my own view, understanding, and appreciation of the gift of life.  As you ponder your own life, I would ask you to please consider what I mentioned earlier – the meaningfulness of your life, the purpose for which you live now, and the words which, one day, some person will utter from a podium while you lie eternally still surrounded by your own loved ones.
During my teenage years I came across a poem by a man named C.T. Studd who was a famous British cricketer before he devoted his life to Christ and served as a missionary to China from the 1880’s until his death in the 1930’s.  The course of his life was radically altered when his brother became deathly ill and Studd, at the height of his athletic fame, was forced to address the question, “What is all the fame and flattery worth when a man comes to face eternity?”  In pondering that question, he immediately gave up his athletic fame and flattery for a life on the mission field.  While on the mission field he wrote the poem, “Only One Life.”  This poem radically changed not just my own understanding of life, but even my life itself.  The poem reads like this:


Two little lines I heard one day,
Traveling along life’s busy way;
Bringing conviction to my heart,
And from my mind would not depart;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Only one life, yes only one,
Soon will its fleeting hours be done;
Then, in ‘that day’ my Lord to meet,
And stand before His Judgement seat;
Only one life,’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Only one life, the still small voice,
Gently pleads for a better choice
Bidding me selfish aims to leave,
And to God’s holy will to cleave;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Only one life, a few brief years,
Each with its burdens, hopes, and fears;
Each with its clays I must fulfill,
living for self or in His will;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


When this bright world would tempt me sore,
When Satan would a victory score;
When self would seek to have its way,
Then help me Lord with joy to say;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Give me Father, a purpose deep,
In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep;
Faithful and true what e’er the strife,
Pleasing Thee in my daily life;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Oh let my love with fervor burn,
And from the world now let me turn;
Living for Thee, and Thee alone,
Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


Only one life, yes only one,
Now let me say,”Thy will be done”;
And when at last I’ll hear the call,
I know I’ll say “twas worth it all”;
Only one life,’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.


What was Studd saying here?  He was highlighting  a deep, amazing biblical truth about life: our lives, as short or long as they may be, when surrendered to the Lordship of Jesus Christ can make a difference for all eternity.  Studd understood, and I urge you to understand, the words of Christ from John 11:25-26.  Jesus here was speaking to a woman about what real, true life was, and he uttered these timeless words.  He said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”
The Bible speaks frequently about life.  James 4 says very pointedly, “Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.”  Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow.  What is your life?  You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.  Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”  Our lives, the Bible tells us, are like mists of water that are here for a little while and then vanish.  Psalm 90 even quantifies that word “life” for us.  It reads, “The length of our days is seventy years – or eighty, if we have the strength; for they quickly pass, and we fly away.  Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  At the ripe age of ninety-one, Grandpa Miller had some serious strength!
Even with the few Scriptures we have read already, the Bible is very clear about two things: life is short, but, through our Lord Jesus Christ, we may have eternal life and blessed rejoicing in His presence.
But what about us who remain?  What about those of us here today who carry on in this world until the Lord calls us home?  How may we experience that true life on Earth that Jesus was addressing?  Is it even possible, or is it reserved only for life beyond the grave?  I would suggest to you this afternoon that just as a physical Jesus was speaking to a physical woman about her life, so He would say the same to you: this day, because of the resurrected Lord, you too may experience this true life.  Your life, today, can be an experience of life the way our Creator intended it to be both now and for eternity – a walk that involves loved and being loved, known and being known by an eternal God.
On one of the many occasions when the Pharisees were questioning Jesus, He responded to them in John 5:24 and said, “Very truly I tell you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life.”  Don’t overlook the fact that Jesus uses that verb in the past tense.  You HAVE eternal life; you HAVE crossed over from death to life.  Jesus is telling us something of immeasurable importance here: it has already happened!  True life, REAL life, as the Lord intended it to be is available now and not just after we die.  What amazing truth that the Lord would have you receive this afternoon!  Real life – true life – life as it was intended to be experienced is available for this life, today, and the life to come.  How does this life that Jesus speaks of contrast to life that so many lead apart from him?
As strange as this may sound, I’d like to demonstrate this contrast of true life as compared to just living using an illustration from the famous children’s book, “The Velveteen Rabbit”.  This famous children’s book, published almost 100 years ago now, chronicles the story of a little stuffed rabbit and his desire to become real through the love of his owner.  As I read a section of this book, you can imagine the difference in a life lived without Christ, which is void of any real life, as compared to an authentic, dynamic personal walk with our Lord.


“The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others.  He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces.  He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else.  For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.  “What is REAL?” asked the velveteen rabbit one day, when they were laying side by side near the nursery fender, before nana came to tidy the room.  “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”  “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.  “It’s a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”  “Does it hurt?” asked the rabbit.  “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are real, you don’t mind being hurt.”  “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”  “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time.  That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter, at all, because once you are real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”


    Is that not a magnificent illustration of the difference in experiencing REAL life and just living?  Real life is something that happens to you, as the Skin Horse told the rabbit, and the Scripture tells us that this “something” is the overwhelming presence of Christ Jesus our Lord.  Real life is not even understood apart from the love of Christ present in our lives.  And, what is most spectacular to me in all of this, is that Jesus tells us that this real, true life is available to us on this side of eternity.  Today, Jesus tells us, if we simply confess with our mouth that Jesus Christ is Lord and surrender our life to Him, then we can finally, truly, and personally experience real, true life.  And, like the Skin Horse intimated to the velveteen rabbit, once you are real you can never be unreal again, nor would you ever want to.
You see, this is the difference in life with Christ and life without.  A life with Jesus is not just for life beyond our final earthly breath, it is very much for every day of this “mist” that the Lord gives you.  The difference is in being one amongst a crowd of faces and one who truly knows and understands love and can rest in such love.  He speaks to you today, “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”
I’ll ask that we all take a few moments and meditate on our own lives.  What kind of life are we leading?  What significant purpose is our life serving?  Based on today, what words would we expect uttered at our funeral?  And, ultimately, what is our eternal destiny?  I’m going to ask that we take thirty seconds of quiet meditation and go before the Lord and examine our own hearts and lives in light of this truth.


Let’s take 30 seconds.  I’ll watch the time.


“Father, we thank you for the gift of life. We know, because we are created in your image, that each moment of each life is immeasurably valuable to You. We thank you that you formed Elmer, and fashioned him, and blessed him with life and allowed us to share in that life.


As we have committed his spirit to you, we know from Scripture that you are a righteous God, and that you will do what is right. And now, in this moment, I pray that we would each commit our own spirit to you as we also have your gift of life within us. You, oh Lord, are the Prince of Peace, and you promise to comfort those who seek you in their hour of need. So, Lord, in this hour of need, and in the many hours to come, I ask that you give us the boldness to approach your throne of grace and rely on your comfort to carry us through these times of sorrow and adjustment. We need you every hour, oh Lord, but in this hour remind us of our need for You and the comfort that comes from a relationship with You.  May we, today, experience the fullness of life for which you created us and, one day, enjoy your blessed presence forevermore.


We rest our hearts, now, in fresh confidence upon the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to life eternal through Jesus Christ our Lord.  AMEN.”


MILITARY GRAVESIDE SERVICE IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING AT REST HAVEN CEMETERY.  ALL ARE INVITED AND ENCOURAGED TO ATTEND IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING OUR DEPARTURE FROM HERE.