Remember the story of Mozart's life told from the perspective of Antonio Salieri. The play and the film were both called Amadeus. Salieri was the court musician in Vienna. He worked hard at his craft, writing melodies that were nice and choral pieces that were fine and instrumental works that were good. He knew that God had blessed him.
As a young man he had prayed fervently to God, “Let me make music that will glorify you, Father. Help me lift the hearts of people to heaven. Let me serve you through my music.”
Then came the boy wonder, the child prodigy, young Mozart. He dazzled the crowds, playing music as if it was second nature to him. Complex melodies came from his dancing fingers. His melodies were complex and fun all at the same time, songs that soared till they seemed to bring heaven right down to earth.
Here's the catch: Mozart was such an obvious sinner. He was immature, vulgar, and obscene. He made off with the ladies every chance he could get. Salieri grew green with envy. How could life be so unfair. He was the servant of God. Why should Mozart be blessed with such talents? Salieri lived a pious and obedient life. Why should Mozart traffic in all these worldly pleasures and still get ahead? Salieri spent a lifetime of hard and tedious work. Why should it all come so easily for youthful Mozart?
The story continues until Mozart dies a mysterious death. Salieri's eyes gleam. And in the dramatic climax, Salieri sits in an insane asylum, where he curses God for denying him the kind of talent that blessed young Mozart. Envy lurks on the path of the crushed spirit.
— Wayne Brouwer, “Taming the Beast,” Preaching Today, Tape No. 118.
See: Pr 11:2; 1 Sa 2:3; Isa 5:21.