During this season of heightened giving and concern for mankind, I’ve considered my own Chicago neighborhood of Streeterville and how it fosters a sense of community. I notice many people walking dogs and stopping to chat with each other, and people being nice to their doormen and retail clerks.
But we have no real epicenter of community in Streeterville. And related to that point, there are no permanent houses of worship in Streeterville, except for hospital chapels and the occasional satellite church service. Our sense of community revolves around high-rise living and commercial enterprise. Except for maybe one location: The Apple store.
Apple has become the new opiate of the people, in Streeterville and wherever its stores can be found. It is a beacon to visitors from far and wide who worship the “i” of the digital era. It’s not about community in a physical sense, it’s about the Community of the One. In a sense, it’s about Appletology.
Streeterville is the most densely populated area of the city. A community bordered by Michigan Avenue on the west, Lake Michigan on the east and north, and the Chicago River on the south, it is packed with high-rise buildings. As Brendan Reilly, our alderman, often mentions, Streeterville contributes a significant percentage of the city’s property taxes, plus sales taxes collected from retailers, hotels and restaurants.
Why no permanent churches in Streeterville? I’m not sure. Of course, there are plenty of churchgoers who live in Streeterville, but they need to go in other directions to commute to their churches, temples or mosques of preference. If you cross Michigan Avenue going west you can find houses of worship representing different faiths and denominations, including Christian churches, synagogues, a Hindu cultural center and an Islamic center in the Loop.
But in Streeterville we have only the Apple church-store, where you can sit on padded stairs and wooden crate-like seats to watch large-screen presentations, much as you can in modern church services. You can confer with the Apple “geniuses,” who like church deacons can help you navigate the complexities of life in a 5G world or nifty applications like Procreate. In the Apple church you can worship all the exciting new possibilities to animate your social platforms and entertain your friends.
Like most other houses of worship, you are welcome to just drop in, out of the winter cold and meditate on the mysteries of life while listening to piped-in music available on Apple Tunes. Or you can just sit alone and talk to the omniscient Siri, the iGoddess of minds growing ever so reliant on artificial intelligence. Unlike some other churches, there are no cash boxes for “the poor” in the Apple church. Apple is one of the richest organizations in the world, with more wealth than most sovereign nations. It can provide for the needy in its own specific ways.
The Apple store’s prime location underscores the trend of people fixated on their mobile devices, even while perilously crossing busy intersections. There they sit in the Apple store practicing Appletology: scanning headlines but not reading the stories behind the news; checking their social platform statuses; scrolling through their endless texts and emails while listening to podcasts or music — somewhat desensitized to the community outside with its real inhabitants and their real needs, spiritual or otherwise.
Before all the available vacant lots disappear to build more condos, office buildings and hotels, maybe some religious organization will squeeze in a little church on some sliver of land in Streeterville. Better yet, several denominations or faiths can share one location, as is done in resort communities or places where religious organizations cannot afford their own building.
This narrative may seem tongue-in-cheek, but something seems wrong about living in a historically famous part of Chicago that has no permanent houses of worship.
It’s true that the real spirit of a church is outside its walls in the collective behaviors and actions of its community. But it also is comforting to know that if you wish to walk into a building to express or refresh your faith, there’s a place very nearby to do so.
Jack Modzelewski is a business communications consultant and longtime resident of Streeterville.
