Worship, mortality, and hope in Springsteen’s ‘Road Diary’

Bruce Springsteen is a global phenomenon. His 'Best of' Album, reached No. 1 in the UK and USA album charts at the end of 2024. Last year his tour was No. 5 in the world for gross income. Not bad for a 75-year-old!

Being a lifelong fan (who can’t quite justify live ticket prices nowadays), I have to content myself with recordings, so I especially enjoyed the tour documentary Road Diary on the streaming platform Disney Plus.

The documentary offers insights into the history of Springsteen’s band, 'the E Street Band,' and features clips of them practicing and performing. It’s not quite the same as attending a concert, or even watching a full-length concert video, as you only get song segments interspersed with interviews.

Yet, for those who appreciate his music and enjoy discovering more about the band members, it’s well worth a watch. I especially loved seeing the contrast between the single motorhome they once squeezed into on early tours and the complex logistics supporting their tours today.

Two themes struck me particularly as I watched:

Spiritual worship

The language surrounding the concert experience strongly resembled that of collective worship. Both musicians and audience members described it as a ‘spiritual experience’ - phrases like ‘this is our church... this is my community’ resonated throughout.

For Bruce and the band, there was something deeply validating, something that gave them a sense of worth and meaning. There was a palpable shared emotion among them, a sense of connection to something transcendent beyond themselves.

Bruce himself only speaks occasionally, serving mostly as a narrator. At one point, he remarks: ‘Playing live is a deep, lasting part of who I am.’ He ends the film with a quote from the late Doors singer, Jim Morrison: ‘O great creator of being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives.’

It saddened me to think that this experience was the height of their spiritual journey, rather than worshipping the true and living God. It prompted me to reflect on our own worship services - do we sometimes aim for emotional highs similar to those in a Springsteen concert?

At the same time, it challenged me to consider whether our gathered worship might feel comparatively mundane, less charged with emotion. Have we, in some way, made the extraordinary ordinary?

Unfounded hope

Most of the band members are now in their seventies, though the documentary has plenty of footage of then they were much younger. But it is truly remarkable how they take on the gruelling task of three hours of intense performance with enthusiasm and joy, looking much older but playing as well as ever.

But they really are much older than when they started out and will not be able to defy gravity forever. The film includes stories of band members and friends who have passed away, reflected in song choices and the overall setlist.

In these moments, they attempt to come to terms with mortality while searching for hope - hope that life somehow continues, that they will be reunited on ‘the other side.'

The song I’ll See You in My Dreams captures this yearning:

'I'll see you in my dreams

When all our summers have come to an end

I'll see you in my dreams

We'll meet and live and laugh again

I'll see you in my dreams

Yeah, up around the river bend

For death is not the end

And I'll see you in my dreams'

As moving as these lyrics are, I felt a deep lingering sadness. From what I can see, there’s no real foundation for that hope. One day, the stage will fall silent, and they will eventually be forgotten.

We might not be able to produce an event as charged as even the most understated Springsteen concert. But we have a hope that does not disappoint. The connection Springsteen longs for in these songs – that relationship with our Creator and the reunion with loved ones – is only found in Christ and in His church. We can celebrate this for free.