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Something
struck me during the Confessions Tour this
summer: In employing and then refashioning religion, Madonna’s
body of work has become one of the most influential spiritual
forces in my life. Not in a hokey, she-is-the-second-coming
sense, but in a very real, evolutionary way.
Over the years, Madonna’s been a pioneer on many fronts.
With respect to feminism, self-empowerment, diversity sensitivity,
and pop music itself, she is perhaps unequaled among her
contemporaries for blazing trails. Madonna is the definition
of a post-modern performer, always self-referential and
deconstructing. And with no other tool moreso than religion
– not with sexuality, not with sheer talent –
has she successfully turned tradition on its ear and celebrated
the moral upshots all the while denigrating the hypocrisies
of what she sees.
In doing so, she has perhaps unwittingly forged an accessibly
secular, almost agnostic belief system that has become vastly
appealing to many fans. Not exactly a prayer, but, yes,
Like a Prayer.
Watching Madonna develop from a rebellious Catholic girl
pissing off the Pope and dancing with Jesus out of her contract
with Pepsi to a more cerebral, obviously well-intentioned
and yet still highly-conflicted middle-aged woman has provided
me with a portal with which to reconcile my (and our) complex
real world with the need to see the “bigger picture.”
Listening to Madonna prattle on about “the Light”
in I’m Going To Tell You a Secret
is so fascinating if only because it’s coming from
the same ridiculously successful woman who devilishly had
tongues wagging about abortion rights twenty years ago with
Papa Don’t Preach. Her heart is –
and perhaps always was - certainly in the right place, even
if the message gets muddled amid all the flash and glitz
of a pop star’s life. She wants to do the right thing.
Shouldn’t we all?
The controversial “discofied” crucifix that
everyone is talking about this summer demonstrates how Madonna
has absolutely transcended religion. I became a convert
to the message: we’re all carrying the weight of the
world on our shoulders. No baptism, sacrifices, or circumcision
necessary.
Madonna’s awakening became apparent during the Ray
of Light era. Her pursuit of Kabbalah doesn’t
necessitate that we all follow her in lockstep to claim
our red bracelets, however. Kabbalah was the means to an
end of recapturing her spirituality and break free of the
dogmatic teachings she had so famously taken issue with.
But it wasn’t Catholicism alone that Madonna had to
overcome, just as Protestants and Mormons or Muslims and
Hindis looking to shed their indoctrinated selves seek answers
perhaps in other belief systems or focus on more humanistic,
pragmatic thinking.
This brand of spirituality, lightweight and fluffy as it
may be, is not constrained by organized religion, a relief
that makes it all the more palatable to me. We’ve
all seen how divisive religion can be. Worshiping whichever
god and practicing whatever rites are all fine and good
… until others’ lives are adversely judged or
affected.
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Madonna’s
manipulation of religious iconography in various stages
of her career - whether it be the recurring The
Beast Within passage, the Sanskrit chanting and
henna decoration she sampled in the late ‘90s, or
Hebrew messages throughout her American Life
work – reflect her desperation in wanting to know
everything (to paraphrase Easy Ride). Such
manipulation is not merely to stoke controversy.
The most telling segment of I’m Going To Tell
You a Secret in this regard is not, in fact, the
scene of Madonna reading the Zohar or any of the preachy
voiceover but a quick scene in which she describes how the
portion of the Re-Invention Tour involving
the various religious garbs will take form: the dancers
will strip off their burkas and yarmulkes until their clothes
do not differentiate them. It’s a political, religious,
and moral convergence that is so basic that a pop star can
entertainingly remind us of its urgency even as she later
sings about puppy love (Crazy For You)
and letting loose on the dancefloor, no matter the race,
color, gender, or creed (Vogue).
Madonna’s performances of Imagine
at last January’s tsunami benefit telethon and Like
a Prayer at last summer’s Live 8, doleful
and sublime, respectively, don’t exactly make Madonna
the female Bono, but drive home the “imagine no religion”
/ “you are a muse to me” message that has of
late informed her work.
In ankling the restraints of organized religion, Madonna
also reassures that there will always be a place for fun
and confection, as the rest of the Confessions Tour
vividly captures.
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No one is pretending Madonna is the messiah, of course,
so it’s easy to take potshots at those cheeky “What
Would Madonna Do?” shirts, which, I believe, have
touched upon something greater than the wearer’s senses
of humor and irony. Likewise, calling Madonna “the
goddess” acknowledges the near-mythic stature she
has attained in the industry but also smacks of a higher,
ethereal undertone.
Even I should have had this revelation, so to speak, earlier.
When I refer to Madonna on my blog, I use the capitalized
She and Her. It’s gotten to be such a habit that it
almost pains me to use lower-case in this column, and I
find myself slipping into capitals when I mention Her (er,
her) in e-mails to friends. In self-analysis over the past
few years, I’ve discovered that my well-documented
obsession with Madonna is the product of a confluence of
factors (from sobriety to the death of a loved one) that
quite often lead people to religion. So Madonna, I suppose,
IS my “religion,” in a bizarre way.
That ongoing obsession and rediscovery – my catechism
of the Church of Madonna, if you will - is only strengthened
by the knowledge that, underneath that leotard and all that
lovely hair and make-up, there is a thinking, searching
human being who wants us all to get along. She calls upon
us to reinvent ourselves, confess, and find our spirituality.
For whatever reason, she’s one of the few people in
the entire world that makes me want to be a better person.
Okay, maybe it is hokey after all. But what fun I’ll
have under that great disco ball in the sky.
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