Mrs. J. M. EMERT, beloved wife of the late Rev. J. M. EMERT, born March 27, 1866, passed in holy triumph to her heavenly home July 25, 1940. She is lovingly remembered by a host of friends in Holston Conference where her husband gave many years to the work of the Christian ministry.
Mrs. EMERT was active, diligent and resourceful in the work of the church. She was a teacher in sunday [sic] school for fifty years, and in this sphere, as in many others, made a distinct contribution to the kingdom of God, which she loved with all her heart.
She had a deep religious experience which contributed to her church and home life an influence of far-reaching effect. She was keenly alive to the needs of others and always ready with love and sympathy to the discouraged and those battling with fierce temptations. From her youth she lived in an atmosphere charged with the thought of God and the realities of the unseen world. She had little desire to live wholly in the realm of the seen and be absorbed with the shams and shows of life. She affirmed that all such tendencies mean spiritual decline and loss of life’s loftiest ideals. With her the real included the ideal. All the beauties of the world culminated in the luminous glory which ever shines in the face of Jesus Christ. He was her central orb. He turned her night into day. This gave her life firm footing, lofty conceptions, courageous convictions and strong character. It produced in her heart enlarged understanding of the mind of the Master, increasing sensitiveness to the spirit of prayer and the disposition to think things through on a Christian basis. It was her honor to be the helpful wife of a Christian minister, but above all it was her joy to be a daughter of the Lord God Almighty.
“Life was to her most dear—home
children, husband –-
But, dearer still than life,
Duty—that passion of the soul which
From the sod
Alone lifts womanhood to God.”
J. M. MELEAR
Source: Methodist Episcopal Church. Official Journal of the Holston Annual Conference of the Methodist Church. 1940.
