As a devout Los Angeles Lakers fan, I was tuned into the first game of the 2001 NBA Championship series when it was announced that the rock band U2 would be performing for the half-time show. U2’s concert was in Boston while the game was being played in Los Angeles. When the cameras switched from one venue to the other, television viewers saw Bono, the charismatic lead singer, praying on his knees.

“What can I give back to God for the blessings he poured out on me,” he said. “I lift high the cup of salvation as a toast to our Father. To follow through on the promise I made to you.” The lead singer of arguably the most popular rock band on the planet was loosely reciting a prayer from Psalm 116 (The Message) on nation-wide television in the United States.

It would have been interesting to hear the conversation in the NBC television control room when they realized that Bono was high-fiving his heavenly Father. Rock ‘n’ roll has always introduced an element of anxiety to the establishment, but the times are changing. Yesteryear, it was Elvis shaking his hips; today, it is Bono on his knees. We’ve come a long way, baby.

In describing U2’s 2001 “Elevation” tour to Rolling Stone magazine, Bono said that fans had told him that they sensed “good vibrations” at the concerts. “God is in the room,” he reported, paused, and added, “more than Elvis. It feels like there’s a blessing on the band right now. People are saying they’re feeling shivers—well, the band is as well. And I don’t know what that is, but it feels like God walking through the room, and it feels like a blessing, and in the end, music is a kind of sacrament; it’s not just about airplay or chart positions.”

Are rock ‘n’ roll bands supposed to talk to Rolling Stone about blessings? Sacraments? God walking in the room? Why would this all sound so incredibly cliché coming from a well-scrubbed contemporary Christian rocker created by Nashville, yet actually sounds sincere and authentic coming from a theatrical pop star?

Bono has the reputation as rock ‘n’ roll’s most effective and enigmatic spiritual provocateur—rattling the souls of fans all over the globe. “I sometimes think I have a kind of Tourette’s syndrome where if you’re not supposed to say something, it becomes very attractive to do so,” he once confessed. “You’re in a rock band—what can’t you talk about? God? Ok, here we go. You’re supposed to write songs about sex and drugs. Well, no I won’t.”

Most of the world is tired of being berated and tutored about social issues by spoiled and over-paid rock stars, yet we still give an audience to Bono whose heart bleeds with the best of them. Pope John Paul II wanted to wear his sunglasses when they met. Arch-conservative Senator Jesse Helms cried when he heard Bono describe the plight of hungry children in Africa. Bono has done more singlehandedly to relieve Third-world debt than all the Armani-clad finance ministers that could be packed into a United Nations conference room. He has a mysterious charisma, an unpretentious grace that affords him the ability to be the only one wearing sunglasses indoors without coming off as a megalomaniac. Would one dare to say he had an anointing to be a rock star?

It seems as though there is a riddle to unwrapping the significance, relevance, and longevity of U2. Very little is ever predictable about their next sound. They never seem to follow rock ‘n’ roll’s party line. They seem to be in the MTV world, but not of it. There is an underground river of depth that rolls through the tracks of U2’s recordings. They make you think and invite you to imagine.

For over 20 years, U2 has done their part to puncture the power of nihilism and hopelessness by pointing listeners to a transcendent reality of heaven, hell, angels, demons, deliverance, redemption, grace, and peace. Their lyrics unfold a world beyond the things that can be merely seen and rationally grasped. The music is not a simplistic mish-mash of yummy lyrics about skipping with Jesus through fields of daisies. Instead, their songs wrestle with issues of pain and frustration without catering to hopelessness.

There is very little garden-variety Evangelicalism (in the North American sense of the word) found in the members of the band. They drink, smoke, swear, and wear leather pants. But there is a hefty and poetic theological substance that I think would startle St. Paul and would bring a smile to the Psalmist. This rock ‘n’ roll band is committed to social justice and eternal truth. In this day and age, that is no small luxury.

For those willing to take the time to look, popular music is brimming with songs of spiritually energized quests; some worth avoiding but many worth engaging. Artists and fans alike have seen what is on the world’s buffet table and are still growling with hunger pangs.

Steve Stockman, the author of Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2, does a tremendous service to those who follow Jesus and to those who aren’t travelling that path. To those who count themselves among the faithful, Stockman will help you to open the eyes of your soul to intellectually and spiritually engage the music that touches the deepest part of what it means to be a human. To those who do not consider themselves active believers, this book will perhaps go a long way in helping explain why U2’s music seems to scratch an unidentifiable itch.

When I saw U2 during their most recent tour, I was amazed at how often I felt the presence of God in the arena. Granted, I am a U2 fan and not a terribly objective rock critic. Nevertheless, God used the opportunity to speak to me throughout the night. Not being a well-attuned mystic, I was rather surprised. The culmination of the evening was the final encore. After thanking “The Almighty” numerous times, Bono began singing the word hallelujah over and over and over again. This rather contagious melody and message rang throughout the audience’s soul. Soon, it seemed as though all 16,000 fans in the arena were singing the song with Bono. This one word, hallelujah—Praise ye the Lord. With that, they walked off the stage.

The great theologian George Eldon Ladd used to press the point that the Kingdom of God was both already and not yet—some of the ramifications of the Kingdom are realized now, while some will not be manifest until the Second Coming. As I sang the word hallelujah over and over with the audience, I felt as though—just for a moment—I had been caught up in the rapturous not yet.

As the band was just starting off many years ago, Bono wrote the following words to his father, who just recently passed away. “[God] gives us our strength and a joy that does not depend on drink or drugs. This strength will, I believe, be the quality that will take us to the top of the music business,” he prophesied. “I hope our lives will be a testament to the people who follow us, and to the music business where never before have so many lost and sorrowful people gathered in one place pretending they’re having a good time. It is our ambition to make more than good music.”

It seems as though that ambition continues to be fulfilled.