What can I say? I spent much of last week listening to an Indigo Girl up close and personal, and "eavesdropping" as she and her dad talked with one another about the spirituality of music and the power of song to transform the world, and it was wonderful; but two and a half hours of U2, even from a distance, left all that in the dust. Well, you might say that U2 embodied much of what they were talking about, and they did so with the energy of a, well, an Atomic Bomb, I guess.

The trip went very smoothly. After a lazy morning, we bummed around Philadelphia all day Saturday, mainly walking around the Reading Terminal Market, which is a huge warehouse with stalls crammed full of foodie delights—ziplock bags of fresh ground spices; refrigerator cases filled with seafood; bin after bin of sumptuous, exotic produce; candy, preserves, pastries. One of these days we will actually live in a city that has one of those public markets, but in the meantime, we will visit and covet.

After a quick dinner we arrived at the Wachovia Center ridiculously early. The opening band went on at 7:30, U2 went on around 9 and wrapped up by 11:30, and we were home by 3 a.m. I was bleary-eyed but happy at worship the next day, and regaled my Sunday School class with tales of the concert (smoke and mirrors for my not exactly knowing my lesson cold, having planned it days before).

There are and will be plenty of reviews of the concert. Here are my highlights:

I want to go back in time and figure out why, if I've liked this band since I was 12, I have never seen them in concert before this weekend. What, I had more important things to do and spend my money on? Stupid me.

80% of the songs blessedly came from four albums: Joshua Tree, Achtung Baby, and the most recent two. Number of songs from Pop and Zooropa: zero. Let us never speak of those again.

Opening songs: “City of Blinding Lights,” followed quickly by “Vertigo” and “Elevation.” Play list is here.

God-alicious songs I’m glad they did: the last two songs of the show: “Yahweh,” followed immediately by “40.”

Major songs they didn’t do: “Bad,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” “Gloria,” “New Year’s Day.” (Meh. I could take or leave those. My high school boyfriend’s band has the definitive version of “Bad” anyway.)

Politically correct moment: a tie, between the scrolling text of the U.N. Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and the plug for the One Campaign. The audience was encouraged to call a certain number and text message their names, then during the singing of “One” the names scrolled across the Jumbotron in a very artful way.

Coolest special effect: Hard to explain, but basically an image of Bono singing up on the Jumbotron that got more and more pixelated until the ‘camera’ zoomed in on a 4x4 grid of pixels which turned out to be people’s faces. Think about those big posters that are made up of tiny individual images, but as a real-time video, and you’ll get the idea.

Special effect, honorable mention: “Streets Have No Name” with curtains of lights hanging behind the stage, projecting flags from around the world.

Cigarette lighter moment, 21st century-style: Bono told everyone to lift up their cell phones. It was CRAZY the number of cell phones in the crowd!

Whimsical moment: lapsing into “Send in the Clowns” and the Beatles’ “Blackbird” in the middle of a song (can’t remember which).

Most personally emotional moment: Listening to Bono sing “Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own” in honor of his father, on my own late father’s 58th birthday. Dad, you’re the reason the poetry’s in me.

The opening act was Kings of Leon, and they were bad, and not like the U2 song of that name, which is to say, good. They were loud and monotonous. Opening acts have a thankless job, but still. At the end of their set, the lead singer knocked over his microphone stand and stalked off the stage. Wow, petulant and clichéd! Score!

By contrast, U2 closed their show with “40,” that is, psalm 40. As the audience sang the final line, “How long to sing this song?” again and again and again, Bono shined a hand-held spotlight on the crowd, and the light swept around the arena like a slow wave. Then he placed the spot on the stage next to his microphone, creating a beam of light that shined up to the rafters. Then he reached into his shirt, took off a set of black rosary beads, gently hung them on his microphone, and exited.

Now that’s how to end a concert.