It was an amazing sight. People waiting in line for hours. Strangers talking to strangers, sharing their stories. Everyone was waiting for one man.

They had set up a stage up for this man, and groupies had packed in tightly, hoping they could touch him. As he walked out on the catwalk, a guitar slung around his neck, they stretched out their arms, desperately trying to touch him. Young, old, it made no difference. For the next three hours straight, he had everyone in the palm of his hands. They had all come to see one man: Bruce Springsteen.

One young lady caught my attention. She was the closest to the famous singer, fitting into the right angle where the catwalk and stage joined. She danced her heart out, singing every song and knowing the motions that went with them. (I never knew you had to make certain motions to certain songs at a Bruce Springsteen concert.)

For three hours, she contorted her body in every shape you could think of. This girl had more joints in her body than humanly possible. She didn’t care what anyone thought, she was caught up into the moment and was one with the “Boss,” which his die hard followers call him. But she wasn’t the only one with moves, you ought to see the elderly lady beside me.

In the end, everyone walked away talking about how Springsteen had blessed them. What I took away is the intensity these people manifested.

I can count on one hand the number of concerts I have attended. My first was the Mamas and the Papas in the ’60s. The other night, 55 years later, I went to my third concert. Each one was filled with people who had intensity.

In Mark 5, we read the story of Jesus coming to the village of Magdala. A large crowd gathered to see what they could make of this man whom they had heard so much about. In the crowd that day was a woman who had been hemorrhaging for 12 years. She believed if she only could touch the hem of Jesus’ garment, she would be healed.

I wonder what level of intensity she possessed to reach out to Jesus? One of my favorite pictures is painted on the wall of the Magdala Visitor’s Center. It portrays the feet of a crowd, and near the ankles, a woman’s hand is stretching out to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. She touched, and she was healed.

Have we lost that intensity, that desire to reach out to Jesus? Maybe that is what is wrong with our country. Those who hold the name of Jesus have lost their passion, their intensity to find Jesus in their daily lives.  If we seek, He will heal.

“If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land” (2 Chron. 7:14).