Last weekend, a remarkable woman spoke to our congregation about her life as a missionary in Africa. She and her husband were commissioned on their honeymoon, 27 years ago, and have been living there ever since. He works with AIDS patients, she with orphans. They have eight children of their own – ranging from very young to grown – several of whom are adopted. This woman radiated a kind of earthy joy that was irresistible to me. Though there was nothing chic or glamorous about her, I found her the very definition of beautiful.

Writing a book review – or even a book preview – of a book I haven’t read is probably a bad idea. So let’s not call this either of those things.

   The other day, while I was browsing in cyberspace, the title of a new book by Gregory Wolfe caught my eye: Beauty Will Save the World. Catchy, huh? A bold pronouncement. A firm handshake of a title.

Last week, I had occasion to sing with my choir at the funeral of a long-time member of our church. This happens from time to time. I’m a little odd – and possibly creepy – in that I kind of enjoy these final rites of passage that many attend out of duty, love and respect… but basically dread. Maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word, exactly. But I always feel privileged to be among those who are mourning the loss of someone dear, privileged to help ease their pain through music, and maybe – in some small way – just through my presence.