he verse is from a 14th century handwritten document from Reichenau and in its middle sentence recounts one of the most painful and heartwrenching moments of Christ’s crucifixion. The words form an ideal vehicle for the motet’s calm repose and its quintessential Mozartean amalgam of grace with tears. Assertions of perfection aside, there are few works in Western music that accomplish so much in so modest a space.		We rightly adopt and treasure Ave Verum as uniquely “ours,” because it was written by whom it was, because we will always need to hear what it says to us and how it says it, and because we cherish how, in so short a span, it so lovingly leads us to a better place.