Monday Awesome Monday

A few weeks ago I was handed a stack of U2 albums and told to “know the classics”. I had just volunteered to go see a show at the Wachovia Center with a friend, and already I was being given homework. Over the past few weeks, I’d doubled my work time as designated U2 study time. After all, there were classics to be memorized. How could I even think about showing up to a concert and not knowing every line to “Sunday Bloody Sunday”? I assume it would be thought of as blasphemy.

After completing hours of “U2 study time”, the time to apply my knowledge had finally come. As we stepped off the subway, we merged into the throng of anxious concert goers. The closer we came to the stadium, the more infectious the atmosphere became. After wandering around the upper level for a while, we finally found our seats. Nestled into the crowd of about twenty thousand, I felt as though I was really part of a community. We held similar beliefs (U2 is an amazing band), and we practiced similar rituals such as waving Irish flags around and singing along at the top of our lungs.

The stage was set, and now all we had to do was wait through Damien Marley’s opening set. Finally after some stage adjustments, the lights went out, and U2 stepped out. But in between the hit singles and crowd favorites, I found myself thinking about the global issue of poverty. Now I’m sure this isn’t the type of thing a normal concert goer would ponder, but it seemed perfectly normal at a U2 concert. After all, ending world poverty, hunger, and disease seems to permeate even the most secular of U2 songs. That message seems to pour through the music with every note. Through Bono’s minute-long sermons, a deeper understanding of the people around me seemed to enter into my mind. I was worried.

I’d been told my whole life that being a good person is the key to my religion. Catholics are really big on the idea of good deeds. Now, it doesn’t seem to just be a matter of fulfilling my religious duty to my parish, but a matter of fulfilling my duty to the human race. If I had doubted myself before, after this concert I feel even more assured of the fact that I must do something meaningful with my life. Not for myself, but for someone else, anyone else.

I left that concert feeling exhilarated because I had just seen one of the greatest shows of my life, and excited because I was now more sure about my plans for my future. I may not know exactly what I want to do, but somehow I know I’ll figure it out. And it will be great, for someone in need.