God In Chicago

Driving down 55th street from the west, I pass through blocks that alternate between the urban bustle of small business districts, and the residential quiet of stretches of single-story brick bungalows.This scene eventually gives way to Garfield Blvd. - one of Chicago’s Grand Boulevards - with its grassy, tree-lined median and blocks of brick two-flats and greystones.If this stretch of road was 5500 North instead of 5500 South, it would be a tourist destination. Rents and home values would be through the roof. In fact, this is the case in Hyde Park, the neighborhood surrounding The University of Chicago, where Garfield Blvd. terminates. But further back west, by Ashland Avenue, Garfield Blvd. simply serves as the northern border of Englewood.As I walk up to the brick structure, an elderly woman was taping a flyer for an upcoming community event on the front door. I said good morning and she asked me how I was doing. I said I was well, and I returned the question.“Blessed, as long as we keep fighting evil with

This section of the city borders neighborhoods with histories and legacies that reflect the parallel universes which exist in this city.To the west are the Dearborn Homes housing projects. To the north are the restaurants, condos, and offices of the rapidly expanding South Loop. To the south, the historic cultural mecca of Black Chicago life - Bronzeville. To the east are the hotels and convention centers of McCormick Place.This space blends in perfectly with the newly constructed condominiums and office spaces. A sandwich board sign has been placed at the corner of the sidewalk intersection to direct people towards the entrance.I could faintly hear the voices of a group practicing a song in a room nearby. There were only a handful of people when I arrived, but everyone seemed to know each other. A few minutes later, three women joined the band on stage and began to lead the audience in song. Although there were only around 30 people in the audience, the three singers sang with with a level of passion and ene

Taking the Independence Blvd. exit off the Eisenhower Expressway leads me me south down a well-paved, tree-lined stretch of road that connects two of the largest parks on the city’s west side - Douglas Park and Garfield Park.One right turn changes the scenery to the alternating vacant lots and strip malls along this stretch of Roosevelt Road. I pull up to the large structure which occupies an entire city block. The far side of this building is bordered by a mix of new and old two and three story brick flats on a quiet side street. Across the street, an industrial-sized lot lies vacant. My destination is easily the nicest building in this area.A group of three older women in long dresses joked with each other at the front door. The lobby had the feel of a banquet hall, and lead directly to the auditorium.As I found a seat on one of the padded benches a few rows from the back, and looked around, it was clear that the designers of this placed had been inspired by the phrase God’s House.From the vaulted ceilings

The streets were quiet when I arrived on the south side on this sunny, Spring morning: A few not-yet-opened soul food restaurants, a few gas stations, a few posters for a upcoming rap concert hanging from a few traffic light poles.As I walked up the block towards this massive cathedral, the sound of bells rang out over the neighborhood from the tower high above the street. This building reminded me of villages in western Europe where the cathedral was the largest structure in the village, and was constructed at such an impressive scale to both inspire awe and reverence for how big God is, and to remind humans how small we are in comparison.A large stone staircase at the side entrance lead me into the main hall - an open space with tall, vaulted arches that held up the ceiling about 75-100 feet above my head. Dimly-lit chandeliers hung from the arches. Sunlight shining through the stained glass windows balanced the dark wooden paneling along the base of the walls.A rectangular table on the center stage is cove

Nestled between several car repair shops, two-story brick flats, and some industrial-looking buildings; this is a low-key and relatively quiet set of blocks in the middle of the west side. So as I approached my destination and walked up the ramp that led to the front door, I wasn’t expecting what I saw next.I stood inside the open and sun-lit lobby and looked to my left. There was a small internet cafe with three computer monitors on a skinny table against the far wall, a few small tables, and a coffee barista booth. To my right, through the opened double doors, was a freshly-painted basketball half-court with a fiberglass backboard rim.I continued forward into the auditorium as a gospel song played through the speakers. A skylight in the center of the auditorium and allowed sunlight to pour in, and softened the concrete floor.Later on, the speaker asked the audience if anyone had any noteworthy events that the group could pray about or celebrate. And for the next five minutes, the speaker listened to announc

I first noticed this building while by on the Dan Ryan Expressway a month earlier. Surrounded by the White Sox baseball stadium, a high school, housing projects, and an eight-lane super highway; it feels like this building is a monument to a south side that existed decades ago.So when I walked into the building, having arrived early for the event, and took a seat in one of the padded benches toward the back of the auditorium; I was not surprised to see the crowd seated around me made up of mostly senior citizens who were concluding their early morning Bible study session.They ended their session by singing a hymn a capella. They all seemed to know the hymn’s lyrics, and they sang those lyrics with the kind of soul that only comes from having lived for many decades.As the seniors gathered their things and began their procession out of the auditorium, I felt like I was watching some sort of Benjamin Button-like time lapse video.Leaving the auditorium were the steady, slow steps of the elders in two-piece suits

On this morning in Logan Square, the main boulevard is busy with joggers, parents pushing strollers, and double-parked cars in front of two large Catholic churches.An upbeat gospel song plays softly over the loudspeakers as people enter the auditorium in groups of 2-4. Everyone seems like they have known each other for a while. They are comfortable with each other, and are in the middle of extended conversations as the event begins.A six-person band led the audience in a song with the chorus, “A mighty fortress is our God” as the main speaker came to the front stage and offered this commentary to the audience.“Back then, 400 years ago, when the [song’s] author wrote these lyrics, a town or village without a mighty fortress was in big trouble. And today, without a strong fortress, you and I are in big trouble.”The band then led the audience in another song, and about 10 people formed a line along the base of the stage and invited audience members to come forward if they wanted someone to pray with them.As some

After taking the 111th street exit off the southbound side of the Bishop Ford expressway, I notice the large Area 2 Chicago Police Department building - which takes up multiple blocks - on my left.On my right, there’s an industrial-sized vacant lot with a sign in front. The sign features an architect’s rendering of a new Whole Foods grocery store distribution facility.I turn onto Cottage Grove and drive past murals and street placards which commemorate the rich and proud history of the Pullman company for which this neighborhood is named. I pass by a mural of Harriet Tubman painted on the wall of a boarded-up corner store, which sat at the foot of the viaduct that carries the Metra South Shore train lines overhead.As I turn onto to Corliss Ave. and approach my destination, it feels like I am entering the parking lot of a football stadium or an amusement park. Traffic cones form lanes that guide cars into sections of this massive parking lot, where all the vehicles seemed to be parked facing this impressive st

This stretch of Washington Blvd. is lined with 3-story brick flats and large apartment buildings. As I crossed the street, I came upon a swooping, concave building with a wall of tinted glass windows. There are arrows chalked on to the sidewalk directing visitors to the double-door entrance.As I walked through the hallways and to the auditorium, at least five people shook my hand and greeted me with a smile. Two of the greeters introduced themselves by name, and asked me for my name as well. Another one of the greeters explained to me that the events usually take place in their gym. However, due to a recent flood in the gym, they were temporarily relocating to the space I was entering.And an impressive space it was. It the was the library which serves the high school that is run by this organization. This library had a loft layout: high ceilings, modern light fixtures, an exterior wall with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to a sunny courtyard containing a small playground for children.Later on in the eve

An uptempo jazz/afrobeat instrumental plays through the auditorium speakers as I enter. There’s a ship steering wheel with a face that appears etched on it in the middle of the stage.As the event was about to get underway, a woman walked up to a podium at the side of the front stage:“In keeping with our African tradition, may we have permission to proceed with our worship? To signify, wave your hankerchief.”With that, a procession of choir singers entered the auditorium accompanied by the syncopated beats of the African drum players on the front stage. Nearly every choir member was wearing a West African-inspired dashiki, dress, head wrap, or kufi.In the first 15 minutes, the people assembled in this space experienced a wider and more global expression of love for God than most people will see in a year. The opening song was performed with a reggae vibe. The opening meditation was offered in Spanish and English. The opening prayer was delivered in Jamaican Patois. The mime/dance performance that followed was

You can understand a lot about the history of Chicago over the past 50 years just by taking a ride down Lake Street from the gas stations and fast food restaurants in Maywood, through the tree canopied streets of River Forest, through the urbanized suburban bustle of Oak Park, and into the two-flats, corner stores, and 19th century mansions of the Austin neighborhood on the city’s west side.To ride down Lake Street into the city is to see the clear boundary lines between struggle and success, poverty and profit, comfort and carnage. Even the viaducts and walls of the Green Line tracks that run alongside Lake Street reflect the stark shift in economic realities at the Austin Blvd. border.As I enter the building, it has the feeling of a meeting hall. With the exception of the stained glass windows along the side walls, there are not any immediately visible decorations that indicate what the space is used for. There are around 150 people in this space, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels cozier and more intima

I did not have any preconceived ideas about what to expect as I pulled into the parking lot behind an elementary school and in the shadow of the Orange Line elevated tracks.Yet, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little surprised when I walked into the well-lit, open lobby and saw an information kiosk in the center, a merchandise booth in the corner to my right, and a 4-5 table coffee shop on my left.It was...professional. Like going to a hotel ballroom for a seminar or conference. But it was also familiar, and definitely had a come-as-you-are vibe. There was a signature book for first-time visitors placed at each aisle as you enter the auditorium. As I waited for the event to begin, I flipped through the brochure I’d been given, and watched the scattered small groups of people chatting in the auditorium. In the upper right hand corner of the informational brochure, I noticed a small box of text titled Weekly Budget. Listed underneath was the organization’s budget for the week, and the amount of money the

As I drive up Princeton Street, I couldn’t help but think about the cruel irony of the street’s name. A name it shares with one of America’s oldest institutions of privilege, power, and wealth.This street runs as a kind of middle track between the Dan Ryan Expressway and the Norfolk Southern freight train tracks. If you were doing one of those ESPN feature profiles of a young athlete from the “mean streets” of Chicago’s south side, the landscape of this street on this morning is the video footage you would see: gray skies, bordered up homes, vacant lots, few businesses.As I waited for the event to begin, I watched the comfortable conversation between pairs and small groups of people as they made their way to their preferred rows.Next to me, a 3-4 year old boy politely steps into a conversation between two women discussing pre-kindergarten registration:“Can you please top talking to my mommy?”Both women laugh. This child looks comfortable in this space. He has been here before many times. He recognizes faces,

I haven’t seen anything like this before. It’s like being on a mini-campus where all the buildings on the block leading up to the main building are owned and affiliated with this institution.There’s a building called Hope House. One called Perkins Center. There’s a learning center, a health center, an agape chapel, a fitness center. Even the indie coffee shop on the corner might also be part of this impressive collection of buildings. When I arrived, the building - an old-school gymnasium with wood beam rafters - has a comfortable and low-key vibe. This is a come-as-you-are kind of place. No one here is wearing a suit. There are no expensive cars parked in front of the entrance.As I watch more people enter the building, it’s obvious that these people know each other. They are not simply co-located in this space, they are communing with one another. Fittingly, today the speaker had chosen to talk about the concept of love. The journey continues in the Lawndale neighborhood on the west side, and the corner of O

I began my journey here because this was one of two places that shaped my understanding of God during my teens and early 20s. This has always been a place where I could get my head right. So when my life’s road brought me back to the Chicago area a few months ago, it only made sense to start my search for God in this place.This place is a cathedral to God. The way stadiums are cathedrals to sports. The way skyscrapers are cathedrals to capitalism. This places is designed to make a statement , about God and about the community that assembles here every week.And statements matter. Especially for this neighborhood, which borders the campus of an Ivy League level university that trains people to run the world; but also borders a community that is fighting to protect its youth from running the streets.I see the excellence of God in this building they’ve constructed. I see experience in their decoration of this space, and of themselves.So I am ready. Surrounded by people who present themselves with excellence, and