When Concerts are Your Congregation
For those of us who did not grow up going to a church or temple congregation, and for those of us who did and no longer feel at home in those spaces, the longing for connection and community can be overwhelming. How does a person find those with common interests? Those we feel comfortable enough to sing with, dance with, and cry with? As a Jewish person who did not grow up going to synagogue, a queer person who feels out of place in most religious environments, and a highly emotional and sensitive person, I feel like my place of worship is at a concert.
On August 9th, I made my way over to SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, California for the long-awaited Era’s Tour with 70,000 strangers. As someone who had never gone to a concert alone, I was understandably anxious and afraid of getting lost, being surrounded by strangers in an otherwise overwhelming and loud environment. From the moment I got on the Metro to the station, my fellow Swifties and I started trading friendship bracelets made in advance to share our excitement and willingness to connect with these strangers all here for the same thing- to experience the joy and pain of Taylor Swift’s music through the last 17 years. During the 3 ½ hour show Swift put on, I screamed, sang, danced, and cried along with these 70,000 new best friends who sang, danced, and cried along with me. The emotional and adrenaline high lasted long before the concert began and almost a week later, I feel it still within me now looking at my pile of bracelets traded and listening to the songs performed.
Like a place of worship, members of the “congregation” at a concert look up to the heavens/stage to watch someone deliver a service. Whether that service is playing music or giving a touching sermon, we may feel moved by those words and sounds. For myself, I feel chills when hearing certain songs or lyrics. It sometimes feels like the music touches my bones or the deepest reaches of my brain and the music lives and breathes within me. I remember many years ago, in high school, listening to the song “Carry On” by fun. and bursting into tears. I cannot recall what was happening at that time in my life, but I remember the feeling the music elicited in me- catharsis.
While the Era’s Tour was a moment for my inner child and emotional adult self to feel and be seen, some other concert experiences are just as powerful and important. In 2017, I saw the band The Staves at the Troubadour in Los Angeles, which is a small, historic, standing-room-only venue. The Staves are a folk singer trio of sisters who I regularly describe as angels who come down to sing their haunting melodies to us common folk. Never in my life have I had a concert experience like that one. The crowd did not sing along. We stood. We listened. During one of their songs, Damn It All, there is a bass line throughout the song that feels hypnotic in the tight-knit space of the venue. I remember feeling like we were caught in a trance as the sisters played and the state only broke in the seconds after the songs’ conclusion as we all collectively went back into ourselves.
While the love and reverence between an audience and performer cannot be understated, it is the connection between audience members that really make the experience feel holy. We stand together, sometimes for hours before a show. We experience the same performance, sometimes also for hours at a time. What makes us close is the intention of being in this shared space for a shared purpose- to enjoy; to feel; to love. The music might make us feel different things, but we all listen to the same songs and in a way, leave feeling more connected to ourselves and fellow concertgoers past the encore.
We cannot understate the importance of community in our own healing. Connection is a cornerstone of mental health. If you're feeling alone, please reach out to find connection with myself or any of our other mental health professionals at Gather and Grow OC for support.
