When I published a spiritual memoir based on the teachings of a 16th-century saint named Teresa of Avila, my 13-year-old daughter suggested my next writing project should be something “more people would want to read.”
I am an Episcopal priest living in a West Coast city where my collar is often mistaken for a retro fashion statement, and the barista asks what day of the week people “meet up at the church.” So I was resigned to a life in the spiritual shadows as the world marched on, oblivious to the life-giving and transforming treasures of the saints. Sure, writing with an eye toward popularity might make my children proud and cocktail-party conversations easier, but I’m just not wired that way. What fool expects popular culture to give divine longing more than a surface-level skip, or passing blow?
Then I went to a Rosalía concert outside of Guadalajara, Mexico, and marveled as the passions of my heart and feminine mystics throughout history filled the sold-out arena. In a pop music landscape full of watered-down God references, I almost couldn’t believe the richness depicted: the complexities and resistance of the spiritual journey, the searing pain of social entanglements and expectations, the sweet ecstasy of full surrender to God, the thrilling power of forgiveness, and the joyful liberation of divine allegiance. This theological feast was creatively rendered by Rosalía in a way that over a million people in 57 sold-out shows around the globe have experienced. Last week, even Bono admitted that she inspires him and a song on U2’s latest album, too.
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