If you had stumbled into Target Center Sunday night in the middle of the set-closing "Light of Day," you might have thought you'd come upon a revival meeting. You'd have found Bruce Springsteen bent over, dripping sweat, preaching passionately about being "on a search-and-rescue mission" to "...re-liberate you through the power and the glory, and the majesty, and the mystery, and the MINISTRY, of rock 'n roll. Unlike my competitors, I can't offer you everlasting life. But I can offer you life right NOW!"

Taken out of context, some might consider this blasphemy and had it been just any rock 'n roll, one might be hard-pressed to disagree. But taken in the context of a little over three hours of rock 'n roll about community, faith, love, family, liberation, redemption, and promised lands of hope and dreams, Springsteen--like all good preachers--was extending the listener an opportunity to examine his or her own life through the "ministry" of exceptional rock 'n roll.

Consider this affirmation from "Badlands":

"I believe in the love that you gave me
I believe in the faith that could save me
I believe in the hope
And I pray that it may raise me
Above these badlands"

Or the dedication of "The Ghost of Tom Joad" to the Minnesota Coalition for the Homeless. Springsteen has spent a couple of decades actively supporting and promoting food shelves, veterans groups, and homeless groups. Does this remind anyone else of Matthew 25?

Springsteen's music has never been salacious or crude. His songs about women reflect a strong sense of commitment, and he celebrates everyday people struggling to live honest, meaningful lives in this cold, hard world. More than a few of his songs carry religious imagery or references, from the "Last shall be first and first shall be last" scripture quoted by Steinbeck's preacher in "Joad" to the litany of sinners riding the train of freedom in the new "Land of Hopes and Dreams," brings to mind similar themes in African-American gospel music.

This evening was no exercise in nostalgia. The set list changes from night to night--no two shows on this tour have been identical. Classic rock staples "Rosalita" and "Glory Days" have been shelved (with the exception of the former closing the final show of the 15 New Jersey dates that kicked off the U.S. tour.) Mega-hit "Born in the U.S.A." turned up as a harrowing blues on solo acoustic 12-string slide guitar. There's no chance Ronald Reagan could have mistaken it for a patriotic anthem as he did with the original version in his 1984 re-election campaign.

For middle-aged folks, this band has plenty of stamina. Blocks of rockers at the beginning and middle of the show flowed together with drawn-out endings, a shouted count, and the band kicking non-stop into the next tune.

Highlights of a show chock full of highlights:
 

• Springsteen and guitarist Steve Van Zandt concluding "Two Hearts" into a shared microphone, crooning the chorus from the 60's Marvin Gaye/Tammi Terrell duet "It Takes Two."
• Clarence Clemons and Springsteen opening "The River" by swapping sax and harmonica solos. Nils Lofgren's pedal steel was a fine addition also.
• The blistering, assertive "Badlands." "It ain't no sin to be glad you're alive."
• "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out," which contained all of the following: a rap about forming the band as his response to the inability of any of us to handle life's responsibilities and consequences alone; snippets of The Impressions' "It's All Right" and Al Green's "Take Me to the River"; Springsteen climbing onto Roy Bittan's grand piano to strip off his vest and shirt and wring out his gray T-shirt; and an introduction of the band. 
• Bittan's cascading piano chords and Springsteen's passionate vocal on "Backstreets." Then again, none of the vocals were passionless.
• The first encore closer, "Born to Run," done with house lights full up and 19,000 tramps dancing and singing along. The conclusion of its bridge remains the most exciting "one, two, three, faw!" since the invention of numbers.
• Van Zandt, Lofgren, guitarist (and Springsteen's spouse) Patti Scialfa, and Clemons lining up to take a verse or couplet of the gentle "If I Should Fall Behind" in the second encore and harmonizing sweetly on the last verse.

One of the few disappointments was the mix in the upper deck of the arena bowl, which swallowed about 1/3 of the vocals and muddied many stellar guitar solos.

Another problem was the incessant hooting and whistling during quiet moments. This was the first arena-sized show I've seen in nearly 15 years, and it was old then. If this describes you, knock it off--you aren't gonna hear yourself on the live album, o.k.? Thanks in advance.

And keeping his early promise that they would make it up to us for postponing these shows due to Scialfa's perforated eardrum, the standard evening-closer "Land of Hope and Dreams" ended with a Santa hat handed up to Springsteen as he, Van Zandt, and Clemons were taking final bows on the apron. Springsteen slowly examined the cap, with sideways glances at his mates and the crowd. Then he slipped on the cap, called for his guitar and remaining bandmates, and wrapped the night up with "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." It looked wonderfully spontaneous until a Christmas tree lit up behind the stage and crewmembers hopped onstage dressed as Santa and elves.

Brother Springsteen and band will take the revival tent city-to-city again in the spring of 2000, according to reported comments on stage the following evening.  If they're anywhere near you, get on down and get right with Bruce.