Review
Addiction
Culture
Feminism
Music
5 min read

The idolatry of Beyoncé: her tour hits town with eight golden calves in tow

We all desire to be perceived as more talented, confident and beautiful.

Lauren Windle is an author, journalist, presenter and public speaker.

Beyonce marches along a stage catwalk as photographers stare from below.
Taking to the stage.
Beyoncé.com.

I suspect if you asked British millennial women to name their queen, more would say Beyoncé than Camilla Parker Bowles. Such is the allure and popularity of the woman who commands legions of fans, ‘the BeyHive’, and has been dubbed ‘Queen B’. Now this pop monarch is on the move and she’s brought her royal tour to London.  

Last night the Cowboy Carter tour lit up Tottenham Hotspur Stadium in an ostentatious display of stars, stripes and glitter. I joined the throngs of fans who packed out the arena to hear the hits from Beyoncé’s first country album, protected from the rain by only their sequin-lined cowboy hats. 

A massive screen provided video entertainment during costume changes. It depicted her two settings; siren and saviour. In some of the imagery Beyoncé was veiled or illuminated by bright white lights, in modern iconography that would previously have been reserved for the Blessed Virgin Mary. During her song Daughter, with lyrics: ‘Cleanse me, Holy Trinity’, she was backdropped by stained-glass church windows. 

Beyoncé is hardly the first to draw from the style of religion in her work (see: Madonna). But, when I came back from the bathroom, the performer was midway through her song Tyrant, riding a gold mechanical bull while surrounded by eight double-headed golden calves. That’s when I realised, we’re not even pretending this isn’t idolatry anymore. 

As a recovering addict (arguably the most extreme expression of idolatry), I am interested in the processes behind idol worship. I have spent weeks studying Aaron’s ill-fated decision to melt down gold jewellery into a calf at the request of the Israelites who thought Moses, and God, were taking too long up Mount Sinai. 

 Followed by the disastrous repetition of history under King Jeroboam I. We take these cautionary tales and usually apply them to the metaphorical calves in our own lives, but still the golden calf endures as the ultimate symbol of idol worship. Would Beyoncé have known this? Almost certainly given the other Christian imagery sprinkled throughout the show. 

The Queen 

For those of you who are only vaguely aware of Beyoncé, I’ll explain how the global obsession came about. She was raised by parents who were committed to her success. Her mum made all her costumes while her dad formed and managed the girl band Destiny’s Child, of which Beyoncé was the lead singer. She famously grew up honing her singing talent while on a treadmill to ensure that she would maintain her voice during energetic dances on stage.  

Destiny’s Child enjoyed a huge amount of success, even if their message of female empowerment was slightly confused. They started with the expectation that a partner would pay their ‘bills, bills, bills’, then sung of their desire to ‘cater’ to their men, before a violent U-turn declaring themselves to be ‘independent women’. The mixed messaging didn’t put off their fans, but it was when Beyoncé teamed up with her now husband, Jay-Z, that she experienced a meteoric rise to fame and became the breakout solo artist from the band. 

She has experienced some scandal over her career, most notably in 2014 when CCTV footage was leaked of her sister Solange attacking her husband Jay-Z in a lift. It was rumoured that this was in response to his infidelity but no formal statement was made. Beyoncé, like our former Queen, lives by the mantra ‘never complain, never explain’. 

Over the years, as the record sales have grown, so has her cult-like status. ‘You have the same number of hours in the day as Beyoncé’ is used as a motivational tool (although I can’t say it’s ever worked on me). Some have even highjacked and modified the French national motto to: Liberté, Égalité, Beyoncé. Her allure is increasingly less about her music and more about what she embodies; the ability to seemingly have everything – motherhood, a stratospheric career and the dream face and body. 

The problem 

To be clear; I don’t think admiring Beyoncé or enjoying her music is a bad thing. I am the one who paid more than £200 to go and do just that. But, with a few notable exceptions, almost everything we idolise fundamentally has the capacity to be a force for good in our lives, if it’s kept in its right place. It’s the classic Christian cliché; don’t let a good thing become a God thing. Take food, exercise and your phone, these can all do immeasurable good in enhancing your quality of life, but when they become our idol, they can also do immeasurable harm. 

It is often said in the Christian faith that we become what we worship. Well in the context of idolising Beyoncé many people would say that’s a fate they would happily welcome. But the reality is darker than that. 

What are we really saying when we idolise Beyoncé and bow down to her golden calves? I would suggest on the surface it’s a desire to be perceived as more talented, confident and beautiful. It’s the panic that we should be perfect, especially given that Beyoncé achieves that perfection in the same twenty-four daily hours that we have access to. It’s a deep longing to be desired as she is, to be popular as she is, to be regularly affirmed as she is. 

Let’s go deeper. Does God say that we need to have visible talent in order to be valuable? No. He says we are all a part of a body with our own unique skills that contribute to the entire organism. Some of those skills will be discrete and often overlooked by people, but that makes them no less valuable to God. Does God say we should be beautiful? No. Jesus wasn’t exceptionally physically attractive, if anything the Bible warns against putting stock in such a fleeting resource. Are we called to be confident in ourselves? No. But we are told that flourishing comes from a confidence in God. 

My fear is that if we chase visible talent, we will always feel that we are lacking and unrecognised. If we chase beauty, we will always feel ugly and if we chase Beyoncé-level confidence, we will always feel small. The idol that should theoretically inspire us to greater things, ends up leaving us feeling boxed in by unhelpful and unachievable goals. It leaves us caged by the comparison and always a step behind. 

Adding to the heartbreak, the thing that we’re emulating and idolising, is never as satiating as we believe it to be. Had I stormed the stage, I would have found those calves to be moulded from plastic and sprayed gold. Just as I would find the performer to be a bit tired and flawed like the rest of us. The reality is, even Beyoncé won’t live up to the idol of Beyoncé. While in contrast, the correct focus for our worship, Jesus, will only ever get better with closer inspection. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Holidays/vacations
5 min read

Race across the world: you can go fast and go far

Forget the tight travel connections; it’s the human ones that enthral us.

Lauren writes on faith, community, and anything else that compels her to open the Notes app. 

Contestants in Race Across the world stand in front of neon-lit Chinese street scene
Ready to race.
BBC.

After years of peer pressure, my husband and I have joined the bandwagon and become Race Across the World evangelists. The BBC series, currently in its fifth season, follows five competing duos on an expedition between far-flung locations with limited resources and no forward planning.  

Viewers love the show wherever they are in the world. In America, The Amazing Race, which has a similar format, is now on its 38th series. 

‘No flights, no phones,’ boast the rules – but Race Across the World is a far cry from retreating to simpler times before smart devices and online banking, nor does it shy away from the complexities of modern life. Though there is a cash prize, the format of Race Across the World prioritises connection over competition. Each episode is a picture of messy, frantic humanity and examines how we cope in an environment where all we really have is each other.  

The challenge is real. In the current series, the couples trek across China, Nepal and India, the start and end checkpoints spanning more than 14,000km. This cohort is an eclectic mix: two sets of slightly estranged siblings, teenage sweethearts from Wales, former spouses and a mother and son. Their vulnerabilities, as well as their triumphs, take prominence. In their conversation and in confessional, each person demonstrates a remarkable willingness to face the hard stuff of life with resilience, tenacity and enough convivial spirit to please the production team. 

This emotional depth maps the physical and logistical demands of the race, as the viewer follows the pairs’ fast-paced journeys, stopping occasionally to enjoy some wonderful view amid countless train stations and overnight busses. 

My sympathy derives from a belief that I would fare horrendously as a contestant – I think my excellently organised, exceedingly patient husband would flat-out refuse to compete with me. But the wider response to Race Across the World is one of empathy. Unlike similar shows, we are not called to blindly favour for the frontrunner, but to enjoy spending time with and bearing the burdens of all. We feel every frustration of the missed shuttle that just departed. When the ferry disembarks late due to poor weather, our response is not to scoff, but to share, in some small way, their lament. As their successes and failures are magnified, so is our compassion, willing them not to get lost in comparison’s snare but to keep moving forward. 

Race Across the World exhibits the reality of community, speaks to the ache of life’s unpredictable nature, and extends grace for struggling humanity. We learn, alongside those racing, that the point is not always to fix our frustrations, but in being able to sit with them, to acknowledge disappointment rather than dismiss it, and to allow setbacks to spur us onto the next step. Sometimes, things get hard and we acutely feel that a situation is beyond our control. What have we then? Still, each other. Still, communion. Still, God. 

Most of the time, the competitors’ issue does not disappear; they arrive at the checkpoint 24 hours late, they board the wrong train, the persistent typhoon ruins their chance of first place. But this hardship renews their strength and determination, promoting the notion that while suffering is never easy, it somehow shapes us. We endure and, in that endurance, we are refined and strengthened in ways we never thought possible. In the testing of our own endurance (or lack of), it turns out that some things actually are immovable. 

This resilience permeates to the heart of who we are, forming us into people who can carry disappointment and hope simultaneously. It is an unwavering, defiant hope that finds us and never leaves us stranded. From this new position, fresh possibilities arise out of a deeper satisfaction, a greater victory, than found in being first place. This hope is rooted in something deeper, and it cries from the other side of difficulty: ‘Here I am, not lost.’ 

In his poem, Vow, Roger McGough reminds us that when, 

Things seem to go from bad to worse,  

They also go from bad to better …  

Trains run on time,   

Hurricanes run out of breath, floods subside,   

And toast lands jam-side-up.’ 

It speaks to how the relatively small disappointments help us cope with the bigger stuff of life, the stuff we feel we will not emerge from. In the gritty, heavy, unfair stuff of life, we appreciate the weight of the enduring hope we possess, manifested in the belief that things not only can, but will go from bad to better. This is not a fragile optimism, but a fortitude and faith that sees the world as it is yet maintains that good and better is possible. 

In the same way, Race Across the World urges us to consider what we can handle – not in our own strength, but in community, in reliance on another. Though our complex, strained humanity may attempt to deter us, life’s hardships are eased when shared, whether on a televised journey or from our sofas. We are strengthened in, by and through devoted community. In keeping pace with another – slowing down or rushing to keep up – we are mutually inconvenienced, and that is a source of beautiful fellowship. In letting go of the things that enslave us to self – ambition, insecurity, pride – we encounter the gift of each other, and give life to love that serves. We commit to community; we choose connection over competition. 

The saying goes, ‘If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’  In Race Across the World, significant effort is understandably made by competitors to go fast and to go far, to place first and take home the cash prize. But the viewer’s delight is not so much in seeing the winning duo cross the finish line, as in witnessing the journey of two muddling through, sharing the load, bearing burdens and multiplying joys. 

In our lives, too, the road can be unpredictable, full of detours, missed buses and, yes, a few painfully overpriced cabs. Yet it is in the community of fellow travellers we learn the worth of endurance, the refining possibility of suffering, and the hope that is cultivated in its place. 

Join us behind the seen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief