Justin Irving Morrill died yesterday, October 26, at the age of 92. What a grand human he was! Pianist, husband, pastor, father, world changer and traveler, idealist, spiritual seeker, handyman, gardener, chef, fund raiser of many millions for education and Community Health Care, supporter of the arts, grandfather and great grandfather and, most of all, a wise counselor. He was all that and more. We are celebrating a life well lived. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers,
~~ The Morrill Family
This past week my beloved of 70 years, plus 6 years of previous friendship, died. When I suddenly decided I was going to marry this man come hell or high water, I soon sensed that no one believed we would last a year. Ha! Did we prove them wrong!
Our friendship lasted all thru those 70, which I believe was major in sustaining them. At times, I might have thrown in the towel (a boxing term for those who were wondering) but always managed to pull it back out and carry on. Justin was always the steady one who preferred never moving, always said no to driving on strange roads, and did not consider new suggestions unless they were from those he had trusted for years. Yet, he made some radical and sometimes difficult changes in his life, which also brought changes in mine and our children’s.
Of the two of us, more likely he would remain calm as I ranted until I would ultimately agree. At times, he was a total romantic; at times, I was. When I was ill, he found ways to help me tolerate my struggle. It was my turn during the last years of his life.
He was an honorable and tolerant man; a prince of a fellow, though not a perfect one. Whoever he really was, to me, he was friend, brother, husband who seemed to love this woman thru ought these 70 years. And I am grateful for his doing so.
~~ Del Morrill
My dad, Justin Irving Morrill died yesterday, October 26, at the age of 92. I am feeling very sad, of course, but he had also been in a lot of pain and distress recently so it is good he is at peace. My earliest memories involve hearing him preach, hearing him play piano (and having him attempt to teach me), watching him build sets for theater productions (often starring my mom), and him dictating the type of avant gard Christmas tree we would have (one year we paper mache’d balloons and painted them in “Mexican” themes. It was wild ). He was idealistic and we were all involved in the Civil Rights Movement and joined the Ecumenical Institute which worked to renew the church and communities in need. When he and mom left doing that and moved back to Washington, he worked in jobs raising millions for schools and for health care. He loved gardening, cooking, music and art. He was wise and a great listener. We will miss him so much.
~~ Eileen Howard
My grandpa passed away on Saturday. I’ve been overwhelmed by the flood of memories and grief. He was a kind, gentle, caring soul. Despite seeing him infrequently, and living at a distance, his love for me was tangible in countless ways. He baptized me as an infant, and his lived faith journey is an example for me that continues to challenge and inspire me today. I will miss you grandpa. I love you.
~~ Jennifer Howard Burns
Our first ‘overseas’ assignment was in the Kobe House (Later Osaka) with Justin and Del Morrill. We arrived young, and with Carol pregnant with John, our first child. We had so much to learn. Justin and Del were open, caring, and wonderful teachers. They introduced us to Japan with all its complexities and misunderstandings, and helped us become engaged with patience and warmth. They shared their own perplexities as well as the friendships they had developed. And we learned to tell the taxi drivers, ‘Hai, koko desu’ when we arrived at the house!
~~ Bill and Carol Schlesinger
Our hearts and prayers are with Del and all the Morrill Family in the death of Justin – family, colleague and friend of many. We give thanks for his (and Del’s) leadership with “Area New York” when we were assigned there and many other places. May the legacy of his leadership and compassion, his many talents, and the gift of his whole life continue to to be a source of comfort, inspiration, peace, and hope to his family and friends – all those whose lives he touched now and in the days to come. Grace and peace, blessing and love,
~~ Carlton and Ellie Stock
When we opened up a house in Anchorage Alaska, a remote location where we rarely got to see our colleagues, I still remember Justin’s visits as comforting and collegial. We were always pleased when he came.
~~ Joan Knutson
About 1970, the Morrills were assigned to Japan. We were honored to be asked to be the guardian family for their daughter Anita, about 4th grade as I recall. One of the perks of that assignment was that we were able to move from our bunkbed room to their “luxurious” apartment with a pull-out sofa bed and a little kitchenette …and a bathroom! We thought we were in heaven. We have been delighted to stay in touch with this family through the years, and especially to learn of the accomplishments of these three beautiful and talented daughters and families.
To Anita, Genevive and Eileen and sons-in-law, and to Del, and all the grandchildren, and great grandchildren, we send our care as you gather to celebrate the completed life of a remarkable man, whose leadership within the order was so care-filled and powerful. And what a father and grandfather he must have been as we watched this family grow on Facebook postings. Del and Justin have served as powerful role models for decades of care and support. What a legacy for their families. We give thanks for them as a guiding team and colleagues.
Like Joan, we appreciated so much Justin’s supportive visits to our various houses as part of the Panchayat treks. And how we all enjoyed the musical talents of this couple in The Cabaret and in various councils and summer programs.
A special memory, from many later years when Justin was working as a fund raiser for a Catholic school, is that he asked permission to use one of John’s poems (God Did Not Promise) as a Thanksgiving card to the donors of the school. The archbishop of the diocese wrote a front page newsletter article about the poetry, claiming it to be the most meaningful Thanksgiving card he had seen in a long time. So we credit Justin with making this poetry John’s most famous poem.
We are placing a gift in Justin’s memory to the ICA Archives work. Grace and peace,
~~ Lynda and John Cock
Well Del, you must already know the place that you and Justin hold in my heart. We have had such a special history together. Know now that I am especially with you at this difficult time. I hold you tightly in my attempt to send comfort at this difficult time.😢💓🙏.
~~ Sarah Buss
When we were in the Kabiro Project hosting people during the International Women’s Conference there and people came to see Kabiro, we showed them the preschool with Sam Were and Ester Were, but it was Justin who asked where will these children go to school after preschool? I thought Justin was the original man with a question, and it was always on target. Sending love and peace to his family!
~~ Evelyn Kurihara Philbrook
A great man has passed. Blessed be.
~~ Herman Greene
Obituary
Justin Irving Morrill was born in 1932 in Seattle to Howard W. and Fayetta Johnston Morrill. His brother, Howard J. Morrill was three years his senior. His childhood and youth were lived in what was then the northern outskirts of Seattle. According to his memoirs, music was the cornerstone of their household. Justin was talented enough on the piano to receive lessons from a preeminent piano teacher at that time, Kenneth Ernst, with whom he studied through college.
He attended Lincoln High School in Seattle. One day, on the bus, he met Del Morrill who was, at first, only a friend. When they both realized it was more than a friendship, they began dating and were eventually engaged. At the University of Washington, he thought he might become a doctor, but another calling had been pulling him for some time. Mentored by his pastor, John Soltman, he developed a passion for ministry and reaching marginalized people. He made the decision to become a Methodist pastor.
Justin and Del were married in March of 1954, shortly after Justin’s graduation. There followed six years of graduate school and seminary at Garrett Biblical Institute in Evanston Illinois. During that time, their first two children, Eileen and Anita, were born. After graduation, in 1960, the family returned to the Pacific Northwest where Justin was ordained. He was appointed to Seabold Methodist Church on Bainbridge Island. That same year, their third daughter, Genevieve was born. In addition to the demands of ministry, Justin and Del gave recitals and were involved in the Bainbridge Light Opera.
Around 1965, Justin encountered the Ecumenical Institute (EI). He described this as finally making sense of theology. The EI’s concept of “the church as a servant for the renewal of the community” resonated with him. He and Del connected with other members of the “Spirit Movement” as it was called then, working to bring the EI courses to the Pacific Northwest. The family attended a summer program on the West Side of Chicago in 1966 and marched with Dr. Martin Luther King. In 1968, they decided to join EI full time and moved to Chicago.
Justin was quickly tapped to go on a three-month sweep of Asia with EI founder, Joseph Matthews. It was a formative trip, as he encountered many different cultures, languages, and extreme poverty. Not long after his return, he and Del were asked to go to Japan where they stayed for four years. Over the next 20 years, Del and Justin took leadership positions with EI and its secular arm, the Institute of Cultural Affairs, in Japan, Chicago, and New York. Justin was ultimately appointed to the global leadership body of the organization and frequently traveled to all corners of the world.
Their first two granddaughters, Kathryn and Jennifer, born to Eileen and her husband George Howard, were both baptized by Justin. Justin seemed to revel in the role of grandfather when he was able to see them. Daughter, Anita, married Sam Chandler in 1985 in Tacoma. Around the same time, Del and Justin made a decision to move back to the Seattle area. As a symbol of promise for the future, Del purchased a Steinway piano, so that Justin could resume playing. With skills he had honed raising funds in EI, Justin obtained a job in development, first at PACE (a consortium of Catholic elementary schools) and then at Bellarmine High School. They loved being grandparents in the same town as Chandler additions, Courtney and Emily, both also baptized by Justin.
They bought a somewhat decrepit house with “good bones.” Justin delighted in renovating it top to bottom and transformed the yard into a wonderland. And, of course, he reconnected with piano music. He and Del held gatherings in their beautiful home, complete with musical recitals. They later downsized and bought another fixer-upper. Justin again proceeded to renovate the entire house and garden. He and Del supported the arts in many ways and he was on the Board of the Northwest Sinfonietta.
In 1999 Genevieve married Mike Borassi. Justin deeply appreciated his sons-in-law and took every opportunity to have a meal with “just the men.” Justin’s last job was with Community Health Care, raising millions of dollars for new clinics and facilities. He was a treasured member of the staff, so much so that he did not retire until the age of 80.
He and Del celebrated 70 years of marriage on March 20, 2024, a union based in shared faith, caring values, passion for the world, and a risk-taking attitude toward life. Justin died on October 26, 2024, at the age of 92, after a long and full life.
Poetry and Prose Meaningful to Justin
An Indian Prayer
Lakota, Chief Yellow Lark – 1887
O, Great Spirit whose voice I hear in the winds and whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me! I
am small and weak. I need your strength and wisdom.
Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand the things you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock.
I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother, but to fight my greatest enemy – myself.
Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame.
Excerpts from “When Great Trees Fall”
by Maya Angelou
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid,
promised walks never taken.
And when great souls die,
after a period, peace blooms,
slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored,
never to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be.
Be and be better.
For they existed.
Thich Nhat Hanh
No coming, no going, no after, no before, I hold you close to me, I release you to be so free, For I am
in you, and you are in me.
The Measure of a Human Being
by Sidney Poitier
I simply believe that there’s a very organic, immeasurable consciousness of which we’re a part. I believe that this consciousness is a force so powerful that I’m incapable of comprehending its power through the puny instrument of my human mind. And yet I believe that this consciousness is so unimaginably calibrated in its sensitivity that not one leaf falls in the deepest of forests on the darkest of nights unnoticed.
Now, given the immensity of this immeasurable power that I’m talking about, and given its pervasiveness through the universe (extending from distant galaxies to the tip of my nose), I choose not to engage in what I consider to be the useless effort of giving it a name, and by naming it, suggesting that I in any way understand it, though I’m enriched by the language and imagery of both traditional Christianity and old island culture. Many of my fellow human beings do give it a name, and do purport to understand it in a more precise way than I would ever attempt. I just give it respect, andI think of it as living in me as well as everywhere else.
The grand consciousness I perceive allows me great breadth and scope of choices, none of which are correct or incorrect except on the basis of my own perception. This means that the responsibility for me rests with me.
I have obligations to be in service to this me, to shape it, to encourage its growth, to nurture it toward becoming a better and better me day by day, to be conversant with all its good qualities, such as they are, and to be aware of all its bad qualities, such as they are. When the living space between the two sets of qualities becomes so uncomfortable that choices have to be made, I try to come down on the side of what I feel is right.
I’ll say that I believe in God, if you press me to the wall, but then I’m going to come right back at you and give you the above definition of God. You follow? And that’s the only definition of God that I’ll defend, because I don’t think it’s possible for me to embrace any other.
From the Bhagavad Gita
What has happened is good.
What is happening now is good,
And what will happen will also be good.
What is that which is lost, for which you are now crying?
What did you bring to this world that you have lost?
What have you created that is now gone?
Whatever you took, you took it from here…
Whatever you gave, you gave it here…
What is yours today was someone else’s yesterday.
And the day after tomorrow it will become another’s.
Transformation is the rule of the universe.
