Madonna played the snake in the MGM Grand Garden Arena, offering up enough forbidden fruit to feed a league of nations. Leave it to Madge to give the tree of (carnal) knowledge a good shaking, sharing its wares with an eager, sold-out crowd.

Excuse the biblical analogies, but the Material Mom brought it upon herself the minute she appeared on that glimmering cross, arms outstretched, playing the role of 21st-century savior in patent leather boots.

"I know where beauty lives," she sang during her mock crucifixion, a bright white light shining behind her. "I've seen it once, I know the warm she gives."

Gather around the prostrated pop star boys and girls, time for some disco for the soul.

And man, does salvation look good in hot pants.

Tonight, the secular and the spiritual would share center stage, and to be honest, it was the former that had the better dance moves.

After all, Madonna's more skilled at delivering big productions than Big Messages, and the most preposterous moments of her two-hour set doubled as the best.

Entering the arena by emerging from a giant disco ball that descended from the rafters, Madonna waved a glittery whip at the crowd, asserting her dominance early. She climbed onto the back of a dancer on all fours, grabbing the reins of the horse harness smothering his face.

Secretariat never had it so good.

The equestrian theme continued during "Like A Virgin," when Madonna climbed onto a black leather saddle affixed to a rotating stripper's pole and proceeded to amaze with some tawdry gymnastics befitting an S&M rodeo.

It was all so deliciously ridiculous and extravagant, like eating whipped cream for dinner.

But the sugar buzz faded a bit when Madonna couldn't resist the urge to try to instill a deeper meaning into her pelvic thrusts. During "Live To Tell," footage of downtrodden children was used to highlight the plight of African orphans, and later, images of President Bush and Donald Rumsfeld were contrasted with shots of Ku Klux Klan members.

It was like getting a social studies lesson in the middle of gym class and felt like a quick and easy way to try to instill some gravitas into a show that was all about putting the art in artifice to an often thrilling degree.

With the possible exception of her 2003 "American Life" disc, Madonna's music has never been overtly political. Her cloudy commentary on this night seemed to lack context and felt a little incongruous with the tunes she was playing.

But hey, who really cares if Madonna's blond ambition occasionally exceeds her grasp? Even when she comes up a little short, she's still a tall order to top.

Besides, soon Madonna was back at it, strutting down the catwalk John Travolta-style in a "Saturday Night Fever"-worthy white suit, romping through a disco version of "Music."

Throughout the night, Madonna continually recast her back catalog, tweaking the old into something new. We've come to expect our pop to be canned, but Madonna tinkers with her tunes like a jam band exploring every nook and cranny of its songs.

She shimmied along to decidedly more beat-heavy versions of "Erotica" and "Lucky Star," added some guitar skronk to "Ray of Light" and stepped aside for an extended percussive breakdown in "La Isla Bonita."

And it wasn't just the songs that got reinvented. Madonna imagined herself in a new role as well.

"You may all stand and salute your future president," she announced at one point.

Hey, why not? She's already proven that she can separate church and state with a well-timed shake of the booty.