God In Chicago

It is a hot and humid mid-July morning as I walk east through the neighborhood of Lincoln Park. The main streets are home to clothing boutiques and specialty pastry shops. The quiet, tree-lined side streets are populated with brick townhomes.The neighborhood ends at the entrance of Lincoln Park, the 1,200-acre expanse along the northern section of the city’s 26 miles of lakefront parkland. At this intersection, the city skyline appears like a picturesque mountain range behind the massive brick structure which is my destination. Several sets of dark wood double doors with carved mouldings line the street-level entrance. Inside, I can hear the hum of voices as I walk through the chandelier-lit side corridor which wraps around the main auditorium. The corridor’s stately brick arches open into a cavernous hall.On the main level of this large hall, there are four sections of pull-down wooden seats that remind you of a school auditorium. Overhead, the tiled stone ceiling reminds you of an old European cathedral.A c