When I saw this photo of the pope looking at an empty St. Peter’s Square at Easter, my first thought, of course, was to wonder how he felt. My second thought, however, was about Wolfgang Mozart.
Young Mozart, with a number of stellar achievements already behind him, had an audience with Pope Clement XV on April 11, 1770.
One might think that the pope, of all people, would not have stopped with conferring just a worldly honor on Mozart, but would have gone on to acknowledge that there was yet another gift that deserved to be validated, even though it was ephemeral. It is the gift of perfection that is an integral part of everything that Mozart wrote. It is a gift of shalom granted to no other musician before him. Everyone sensed it. It had already created tumult even in the Italian musical community, where Mozart was accused of allowing his father to write an opera for him.
But the pope said nothing about this divine distinction. As a result, I believe, Mozart did not fully understand how different he was until much later in his life, when he realized that he was surrounded by a vortex of evil — those close to him who had agreed upon his death.
And it was because of this gift that Mozart was killed. And this assassination — this Murder Most Foul — has remained a closely-guarded secret through the years. Until now.
Ironically, with the onset of this terrible pandemic, and the physical distancing that everyone is keeping, we may all have a much better idea about what Mozart’s life was really like.
And, at last, the truth about what really happened to Mozart is becoming evident to everyone.
I call this Minnegeddon…