When I was a student at university, I earned extra money by singing in a church choir and at a temple. As part of my duties, I often took part in services to mark the passing of a member of the congregation. Sometimes family members had specific music they wanted to hear; when they didn’t know what to choose, the rabbi or minister would select something he deemed appropriate, like Handel’s “The Trumpet Shall Sound” or Copland’s arrangement of “At the River.” The music was beautiful, but mostly I sang to make a little extra money. I didn’t think too much about the deeper meaning of the piece. I was paid to help people honor a life, but it wasn’t personal.