Years ago, I was a big U2 fan. I first heard them in high school when the album “War” came out, but true fandom didn’t start until college. I remember going to Florida in 1986 (difficult to believe that was 40 years ago) for a week of beach evangelism (not sure they still do that?). I spent a great week engaging others lying in the sun with a variety of questions that led to spiritual discussions about Jesus. At the same time, U2 released a new album, “Joshua Tree.” I knew the release date, so I got in my car and drove to the nearest mall in Fort Lauderdale to buy a cassette tape of the new album. I slid it into the cassette player, and I remember my first listen to this album was euphoric. Previous U2 songs like “I Will Follow,” and interviews hinting at some Christian commitment, got me intrigued and hopeful. I was maybe too hyper-focused on any Christian content as I dissected the lyrics of every song. Then I listened to “I Still Haven’t Found What I Am Looking For”
I have spoken with the tongue of angels; I have held the hand of a devil.
It was warm in the night; I was cold as a stone.
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for. But yes, I’m still running.
You broke the bonds, and you loosed the chains.
Carried the cross of my shame. You know I believe it.
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.
They mentioned the cross breaking the bonds, loosing the chains of shame (sin). He believes it, but why does he say, “I still haven’t found what I am looking for?” The brutal honesty about one’s own spiritual state was refreshing for some. He wasn’t deconstructing. Yet I was so sure of the truth of the gospel as my 21-year-old self shared it boldly with strangers. I had found what I was looking for, and I wanted to tell others. As a zealous evangelist, I was concerned about the state of U2’s soul; they were hedging their bets.
Yet, listening to the song 40 years later, I wonder why I often live like I haven’t found what I’m looking for. I always felt there was something beyond my reach that could make my life make sense — something that would help it work, give me clarity, and offer more than what I already had. Yes, I had Jesus, but I needed more. Jesus plus something. This something wouldn’t ultimately save me, I know, and it wouldn’t be more important than Jesus; it would be something Jesus gives me as a gift. A steady restlessness has lingered in me, a desire to get more out of life than it could deliver — a longing only Jesus could fulfill.
Why had I been looking for something else when the something more is more of Jesus? Why was that not enough for me? I think I failed to see what I had “In Christ.” In Colossians 2:9-10 the Apostle Paul states that Christ has the fullness of deity dwelling in him and we have been filled in him. It does not mean we become God, but we already possess all we need for a godly life. We have all we need to respond to all circumstances in life with grace, patience and wisdom. Why trade that for something else so paltry?
