Mozart y Dios

There are some music pieces which are just powerful: they flow you away like a flood, like the waves of a furious sea.
The Great Mass kyrie is one of these, but I don`t feel it like a storm or a gale but instead like the quiet, benevolent, almost indifferent might of a huge beast, like the unstoppable dragging of a glacier along the valley. It doesn`t really matter what I am thinking at the moment, or what I am going through: working problems, boredom, whatever it is. This shocking tune simply gives me peace: overwhelming, blissful, amazing peace. I was 18 when I first heard it, and remember that I could hardly breathe for the time it lasted, that the joy was so unbearable I almost cried.
The first “Kyrie” is nothing but an introduction, something like “hear, hear!” which heralds the core of the piece, the “Christe”. And then there the gates open, and the soprano enters, and words fail. I mock Mormon missioners and Witnesses of Jehova, I despise the self-help drivel and the groundless “hope” that Ophra-like psychologists and religious fanatics alike claim we should feel. And yet, if Mozart managed to find this beauty, if this music is something real, then perhaps we are entitled to feel hope, after all. Perhaps there is more in life than fear and disappointment. Perhaps there is a merciful god, somewhere.