It is said of the works of Johann Sebastian Bach, "He had written them for the pleasure and use of his employers and for the glory of God. They would be judged on their own merit as music into which he had put his heart and soul."
Bach had "dressed himself up" in his music, and thus clothed, presented himself to those around him and to God. It was an offering of his perseverance and creativity in which he "wrapped the cloak of the integrity of God" around him.
-- Raba P. Mirsky, Johann Sebastian Bach, Chicago, Follett Publishing Company, 1965, p. 86.
I've had many reports of the Remembrance Sunday service held at Dickleburgh (in Norfolk, England) this year, mostly about the preacher. Since Dickleburgh has a historic connection with the Americans from the time of Second World War, they always invite the American Air Base at Mildenhall in Suffolk to join them for the service, and always invite the current American air force chaplain to preach.
On the Sunday afternoon following Thanksgiving, when I was in seventh grade, it began to snow. It started slowly and undramatically -- much like any number of other snows I had experienced growing up in Detroit. The sky turned the shade of dirty wool and the flakes danced through the wind as in one of those glass balls that you invert. Little by little the sidewalks whitened, and soon the neighborhood was alive with the rasping sound of shovels. Before long the roads were filled and you could no longer see the curb.