Mark started talking about singing the Nicaean Creed solo during the televised mass that goes out to millions upon millions. One day he realized how many people had heard him make this profession of faith. He’d sung it at every papal mass for 3 years.
He quoted the Latin: Credo in Unum Deum. “I believe in One God.” He went on, “I didn’t sing, ‘We believe in One God.’” It was he, Mark, who made a very personal profession of faith. He asked himself: Did he really believe in the One God? And what did that even mean? “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. I’ve just declared the beginning of the Nicaean Creed in front of the Pope, surely I should be sure of what I’m saying. Sometimes I know what I'm singing and sometimes I don’t.”
“If you ask me if I believe in God, my reply is that I don’t understand the question. What do you mean by God? These are massive questions.”
“I’m a baritone. What do I know?”
And apparently it became a kind of personal crisis of faith. Aside from the musical insider joke, he really didn’t know. Then he told a story of a rather beautiful personal revelation; I think it was while singing a Bach piece, the 1747 version as opposed to the earlier 1745, the one that Francis preferred. Apparently Francis is a kind of hands-on boss when it comes to certain details.
“Well, what do I know? I'll tell you what I know. I can tell you that when I am immersed in this music, I feel in touch with something.”
Singing he got that he really believed in a power greater than himself. He was actually far more eloquent than my jesuitical argument.
Medici Archive Project, Music Program. Vox Medicea (directed by Mark Spyropoulos).
