Fred Miller was as fine a man as I’ve met. His outlook was positive, his smile warm. He died from cancer on the day our choir sang Lessons and Carols. Their anthem, “Never Weather-Beaten Sail,” ends with these words: “Ever blooming are the joys of Heaven’s high Paradise, cold age deafs not there our ears, nor vapor dims our eyes; glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the blessed only see. O come quickly, come quickly glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to thee.” Such music frames our loss so that we see it in the context of God’s glory that outshines the sun. At the end our spirit is lifted to God’s high paradise where joy blooms forever. Our choir fills the emptiness of loss with meaning, hope and wonder. The Gospel story, or good news, which we say and sometimes sing provides a lens through which we can clearly see and make sense of our life, our world, even our death.