Ethnic parishes have a long history in Chicago. Lithuanians, Bohemians, Italians, Germans, Koreans, blacks, Hispanics — all these and more have come to the shores of Lake Michigan, formed communities and built churches with their own pennies and sweat.

Some came to gratefully inherit stewardship from those who arrived before them.

Regardless of how or when they came, these groups have made the body of Christ in the City of Big Shoulders a much broader and stronger presence than it would otherwise have been if not for their culture, passion and sacrifice.

In the midst of this cultural smorgasbord, it's Chicago's Polish-Americans who lay claim to special pride of place — if only for their sheer numbers and long presence. And, for many of them, St. Hyacinth Parish is the community's spiritual hub.

St. Hyacinth is a church where “Old Europe” has met the American dream, and each one has enriched the other. It's home to a parish community that has not forgotten its history, nor has it lost sight of why memories matter.

The parish is 109 years old, although the current sanctuary opened in 1921. The man who would be Pope John Paul II, that most famous of all Poles, visited when he was a cardinal. If you walk around the church, you will find echoes of these and other events from the recent and distant past.

For example, a large monument outside honors the many parishioners who fought and died in World War I. Nearby is the tombstone of one Father Jerzy Popieluszko. The epitaph states that he died at the hands of the communists in Poland in 1984.

But while the contributions of the past are cherished and preserved here, it is viewing such sights in the context of the unfolding present and future that the deeper meaning becomes clear. A new banner on the outside of the old church, for example, declares 2004 to be a year of Divine Mercy — and so it is.

A Piece of Poland

Not many parishes have cause to change the cornerstone of their church. Yet St. Hyacinth has made two such moves in the last few years. The first development to occasion such a change was a major renovation to prepare the church for the Jubilee Year 2000. The second was the designation last November of St. Hyacinth as a minor basilica — which called for an additional cornerstone to be laid directly above the original one.

The title of basilica brings significant value to parishioners and visitors alike. For one thing, those worshipping at the church on Aug. 17, the feast of St. Hyacinth, can gain a plenary indulgence, assuming the normal requirements are fulfilled. (These include Mass, confession, Communion and prayer for the Holy Father, as well as complete detachment from sin.) A basilica may also bear the papal insignia on its exterior and on banners and furnishings inside the church.

Impressive as the recent elevation to basilica is, though, I found other aspects of the church even more memorable on a visit for Mass one frigid Sunday this past winter. Outside, the mercury showed 9 degrees while the wind-chill factor was well below zero. Inside, heat was pouring out of the radiators.

I had to find my way to a standing spot along the outer wall because this church that was built to hold 2,000 people was packed with at least 500 more than capacity. Every pew was filled and the aisles were swollen with standing-room-only believers.

One amazing aspect of the Mass was the participation of the attendees. In typical Polish style, there was no announcement of the well-known hymns. Instead, everyone joined in after the first two or three notes, singing lovingly and respectfully in their mother tongue. The Mass itself was warm and beautiful. At the close, all 2,500 in attendance turned west and sang a Polish hymn to the Blessed Mother, remembered in an image of Our Lady of Czestochowa. After the final blessing, all fell to their knees, praying “O Sacrament most holy …”

From what I hear, this is the norm here.

Exceptional Artworks

I saw little evidence that the majority of adults could speak English, although some of the children were clearly bilingual when asked a few questions. Chicago has the largest Polish-Catholic population in the world outside of Warsaw, and St. Hyacinth remains a magnet for émigrés who heard about it before even coming to the United States. It's not uncommon for new arrivals to show up on the doorstep of the rectory.

Other Polish parishes in Chicago are older, but most have changed and have a more varied ethnic makeup. St. Hyacinth continues to attract a predominantly Polish congregation.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church draws a contrast between patriotism and the love of a motherland vs. nationalism, the latter of which is condemned. The members of this parish clearly love their Polish heritage. They use it to enrich and strengthen each other and grow in their faith.

The church building and architecture complement the rich beauty of the parish's humanity: Physically, St. Hyacinth is simply stunning. The church was impeccably restored for the new millennium so that, today, it's surely a living model of what old Europe's churches must have looked like when they were new.

High above the altar is an image of the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance surrounded by angels on a field of gold-painted tiles. The Latin inscription Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy) reminds us to adore our Eucharistic Lord constantly when we are before him.

The art of the parish is exceptional as well. The domed ceiling presents images of more than 150 souls, earthly as well as heavenly, circling the glass of the dome. I can only imagine that, in the style of that era, many of the faces were likened to those of prominent figures in the community when the images were created.

A gaunt and agonized Christ looks out from a large crucifix that recalls a painting by El Greco. Meanwhile, at the left side altar, a shrine to Our Lady of Sorrows is adorned with an unusual depiction of Veronica. She shows her veil to the Blessed Mother, who is reaching out to the only remaining image of her son. One woman prostrates herself while others weep and kneel: The Resurrection had not yet occurred.

At Chicago's St. Hyacinth Basilica, one gets the impression that spiritual resurrections are an everyday occurrence.

Len Pacek writes from Orland Park, Illinois.