Thursday, March 19, 2015

Our First Lady

I shared this message at the funeral service of Evelyn Miller, wife of our Pastor Emeritus, Dr. Fred S. Miller, Jr.  As you will read, she was strong and sweet, raised a remarkable family and shaped the lives of a generation of believers at St. Andrews.  I hope this message helps you remember and give thanks for one of God's memorable inimitable creations.  

Our First Lady

I am deeply saddened to be here so soon again with the Miller family, having said goodbye to Dr. Fred Miller just over a month ago.  I am saddened, but not surprised.  Neither are many of you.  Some said it to me in a whisper, as though you’d be wrong to say it out loud.  Some of you apologized as you said it, but many of you had the same feeling—that Evelyn would not be with us very long after Fred went home. 

Evelyn’s doctors could tell you how her body wore out, how the breathing problems she’s faced for so long overcame her, but I don’t think that’s the heart of why she’s gone from us and why we’re here today.  I think Evelyn’s life mission was completed.  She knew her job was over.  I think Evelyn said, in her own words, many times in the past four weeks, what the Apostle Paul said as he realized he was coming to the end of his life.  He wrote to Timothy,

(2 Timothy 4:6b-8) …the time has come for my departure. 7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day…

I’ve thought a great deal about how to describe Evelyn’s life mission.  If you knew her, you knew she lived with a clear sense of purpose and a deep passion for serving Christ.  She wasn’t just Fred’s wife.  I don’t think the description, “our pastor’s wife,” captures her spirit and her impact.  I finally decided that Evelyn Miller was, in this church and others she served with Fred, “the First Lady.” 

That title fits, I think, because, in the first place, it tells you that so much of what she did for Christ, she did through the relationship and partnership she shared with Fred.  A ministry couple must share many things, some of them wonderful and some of them heartbreaking.  But Evelyn and Fred shared ministry in a deeper daily sense.  So much of what they did for Christ and for the churches they served, they did together.  So often, when Fred came to visit you in the hospital, Evelyn was with him.  Together, they visited many of you when you first visited this church and explored making this your church home.  She was with him at the funeral homes and at the gravesides, offering her own gifts of loving support. 

The writer of Proverbs says of the woman worthy of praise that her husband joins his children in giving thanks for her life.  Fred Miller was the first one to praise Evelyn for her contribution to his life and his ministry and the first one to give her credit for the good things they saw happen in the churches they served. 

The boys say their Mom was every bit as called to Christian service as was their father.  They are certainly right.  The call to ministry did not come until after Fred and Evelyn had married, so they answered Christ’s call together, at the beginning and all along the journey. 

Evelyn brought many gifts to her life of ministry.  She grew up in the strong circle of the Meador family.  She was blessed by the great love she received, but was also tested by some great challenges.  She was only nine years old when her father, skilled and successful in construction, suddenly passed away.  As his death brought tough financial changes to the family, Evelyn, her Mom and her siblings had to leave the homeplace she so loved, and moved into more modest accommodations in town.  She learned how family can work together, lean upon each other, and get through the toughest of times.  She learned the value of work and the success that comes only through doing your best and giving your all.  And she learned how faith in Christ is an anchor for the soul when storms rage through your life. 

Several pictures of the Meador homeplace hung in Evelyn’s home.  She cherished her heritage, her roots, her memories of love and support.  She cherished how her early years blessed her life.  I've never been to that homeplace, but I, like so many of you can say it has blessed my life.  For the lessons Evelyn learned there, the strength she found there, the empathy that grew within her for people facing tough times prepared her to be that wonderful special person she has been in our lives.  God used the joys and sorrows of her life to prepare her to be our First Lady. 

Evelyn loved music and was gifted as a pianist and organist.  In some of the first churches the Millers served, Evelyn provided much of the music and Fred the preaching.  What a beautiful expression of the ministry they shared. 

“First Lady” tells you that Evelyn was a leader in her own right.  She cared about God’s work.  She cared about the churches Fred pastored.  And, if you knew Evelyn, you know she had some very specific ideas about how the life of the church should be.  She could be very generous in sharing those ideas with you. 

One of my first one-to-one conversations with Evelyn happened after she had attended the funeral service of a friend.  She brought me the program and told me about the service and her connection to the deceased.  But what she really wanted to tell me was how good the program looked and that we could improve the programs we print for funerals if we’d borrow a few ideas from this one.  I listened respectfully.  I took the program she handed me and, a few days later, looked through it.  When I studied it, remembering what she had told me, I had to admit she was right.  When I passed her ideas on the rest of the staff, they agreed. 

Evelyn not only wanted things done right, she also wanted people to do and be their best.  Some former staff members of this church have told me of times Evelyn would find them, get them over to the side and tell them plainly about some ways they could improve their work.  She was sometimes like a coach who sees that a player is but a few small changes away from great success.  She cared enough to give some of the players on this church’s team such a clear challenge.  Those who shared their stories of those “Coach Evelyn” conversations shared them with gratitude and the testimony that she helped them be better. 

She expected results.  She was a can-do, find-a-way, get-it-done kind of person and she wanted others to get things done too.  A couple of years ago, Evelyn entrusted to the staff a painting by Lena Andrews, an educator in our church who had a gift for painting and funded a scholarship the church awards each year.  Evelyn thought the painting could be displayed in a place where more people could enjoy it, perhaps in the office area.  I will confess, we didn't hurry to hang the painting.  More weeks went by than was necessary to find a home for this cherished reminder of a great lady.  Evelyn, in her own inimitable style, reminded us that the job was not yet done.  She said, as only she could, “I guess I’m just going to have to take that painting back, because it’s not going to be hung in the office.”  Within a week, it was on the wall on display.  It’s still there, thanks to our First Lady. 

Yes, Evelyn could be strong as effective leaders must be strong.  But she was also as tender and loving a friend as many of us will ever know.  When, a couple of years ago, Fred and Evelyn realized they needed to change their housing situation, they looked at retirement communities all over the state.  When one of the boys asked for an update on their search and especially where they thought they might want to live, Fred answered, “We won’t be leaving Columbia.  Your mother needs to know if one of her friends sneezes.”  Fred was joking about something very precious to many of us.  Evelyn kept up with her friends.  She knew what was going on in their lives.  She knew how to pray for the.  She knew what they needed and how she could help. 

The boys told me that they would sometimes find their home sitting alone in their home in tears.  When they asked what was wrong, Evelyn would tell them that she was thinking and praying about someone and their needs.  If you were Evelyn’s friend, you were on her mind.  You were in her heart.  She shed tears for you.  She lifted you up to God. 

She made dear friends everywhere she went.  She kept in touch with people from practically every community where she had lived and served.  When the news of her death began to spread, the telephone rang constantly with calls from many places from friends, precious friends, who wanted to know about Evelyn, what had happened, and when we would gather to give thanks for her life. 

Just a few days after Dr. Miller’s death, Evelyn became a patient at Wildwood Downs where she hoped to regain her strength and a fuller measure of her health.  That did not happen, but while she was there, something wonderful did happen.  Evelyn’s roommate, a lady named Ann, lost her balance and fell.  The fall was a tough one and Ann’s injuries were significant.  That fall put her back a long way in her healing process.  Evelyn had already adopted Ann and bonded with her as a Christian friend.  Evelyn seized the moment to take Ann’s hand and pray for her and with her, that God would help her overcome these new challenges and move forward toward healing and health.  Evelyn was very sick at that time.  We didn’t know it, but she was only a few weeks from death.  But her ministry, that calling she carried in the marrow of her bones shone through and touched a life in a way Ann says she will never forget.  Through Evelyn’s ministry, our church was there, God’s family was there, responding to a crisis.  She was, even in her own time of weakness and struggle, our First Lady. 

The darker the sky, the brighter the stars shine.  During the past couple of years, as Dr. Miller’s health declined, then he learned that he had cancer and faced the trials of both the illness and its treatment, Evelyn’s love for him shone through so beautifully. 

Last October, our church shared a communion service in a unique way.  Each of the ministers enlisted a helper, took up a position in the sanctuary and allowed each worshiper to tear a piece of bread off of a common loaf and dip it in the cup.  I asked Dr. Miller to serve with me and, enjoying some good days at that time, he graciously agreed.  Serving with him that day was a holy ground experience as I saw the love in his eyes for the people of this church and saw their gratitude in having him serve them once again and their grief as some realized this might be the last such opportunity they would have. 

But the sweetest moment came when Evelyn, having stood in line to receive the bread and cup, stepped forward.  Fred began to say the words that attached great meaning to the bread.  He addressed them personally to her, as he had done for so many worshipers that day. 

Evelyn, the body of Christ broken for…

He didn't get to finish.  Evelyn interrupted him with what she believed was a more urgent question,

Fred, are you OK?

He smiled, nodded his head yes, and tried again.  The body of Christ…

She stopped him again. 

Do you need to sit down?  You've been pretty weak lately and we can get you a chair if you need one.

He said, “I’m fine, really.”  And this time Gabriel’s trumpet would not have stopped him as he said, “The body of Christ broken for you.” 

I stood there, watching and listening, feeling so blessed to witness something so beautiful.  Our First Lady doing what she had done so well for so long, taking care of her partner in ministry so he could take care of God’s people. 

When Dr. Miller’s funeral service was over and his casket rolled by where Evelyn was seated in her wheelchair, she reached out and touched it, gently, tenderly, as though to offer one more tenderness, one more blessing, one more gift of love to him.  Then, in perfect Evelyn style, as the funeral director turned her chair to come up the aisle, she pointed out to him that a reserved sign had fallen off of the pew and needed to be picked up.  Tender and strong, she was, once again, our First Lady. 

Sammi, David, Stephen, to you and your families, I affirm you for the way you loved your Mom through this last month.  You lost a lot of sleep and missed a lot of work, but you received in return another volume of holy and tender moments with your Mom.  For many years, your parents have connected you to this church and to all of us.  They've gone home, but I want you to know you still belong to us.  You always will.  You are family.  You are loved.  You always have a place at this table. 

Evelyn Miller lived with purpose and died in peace because she knew she belonged to Jesus.  Your journey and your journey’s end will be decided by your relationship to Him.