A Lancet article last month pointed out that a “stroke-reviving” traditional Chinese medicine showed no significant benefit over placebo in patients with acute cerebral hemorrhage. Trying to make sense of traditional Chinese medicine through double-blind trials strikes me, more often than not, as a futile exercise. In the philosophy of Chinese medicine, everything is connected to everything else. Amid one chance, random event after another, logic becomes a pile of expensive scrap. Its devotees, meanwhile, like to insist that traditional culture is mysterious, unfathomable, beyond words. The opposition and endless bickering with modern medicine leaves one exhausted and gets nowhere. Science can treat the person, but it cannot save them.

Religion sits above the fortress of science; its nobility and its calling are things science can hardly reach. Scientists, more often than not, find their inspiration through theological revelation. In his later years, Newton devoted himself painstakingly to theology — research that, for Newton, may have carried far more meaning than any apple ever did.

Mozart’s Coronation Mass (note: a “mass” here refers to the music sung during a Catholic Mass) is clearly the result of just this kind of religious calling, and of Mozart’s own devout self-cultivation. Mozart was going through a hard time then — financial crisis, the death of his mother, a failed love affair — all of which gave the still-young composer a deep sense of the cruelty and helplessness of social reality. What help could he seek? It seems only religion remained, comfort sought through devout prayer. The Coronation Mass has far less pomp and splendor, and far more of the genuine feeling and depth of an ordinary person experiencing real grief. It is moving.

This live recording is Karajan conducting in 1985 at the coronation ceremony of Pope John Paul II, with video of the performance available as well. Compared to some other well-known versions (such as Trevor Pinnock’s), this one is much slower in tempo, but that pacing suits the atmosphere of a coronation mass perfectly — a kind of baptismal restraint that other conductors, or even a younger Karajan, would have struggled to achieve. Listening to it, you can almost glimpse the Mozart of that time — a Mozart cornered and helpless.