For decades, St. Irenaeus Catholic Church with its imposing spire always seemed to stand watch over the coming and goings of Park Forest. In years past, when the plaza was in operation in the heart of town, the church was a visible anchor for the shopping center. Sunday mornings the parking lot at Indianwood Boulevard and Orchard Drive, the south end of the plaza across from the church, was usually crammed with cars.
“Saint I’s,” as the church was called, was the site of numerous village events, including the Blue Mass honoring police officers, the annual interfaith Thanksgiving service and a large turnout in 2016 paying tribute to Park Forest police Officer Tim Jones after he was shot.
That was then. More recently and as part of a regional overhaul of Catholic churches in the south and southwest suburbs, “St. I” closed its doors in July 2022.
When it closed, I wrote that religious buildings are repositories of shared memories. When doors are permanently locked congregations can scatter like dandelion seeds on a windy day and pages of personal scrapbooks of life can fade.
Today the church, its buildings and classroom, rectory and convent lie empty with only a large “for sale” sign conveying what is left of its dust-covered presence in the community.
The state of this iconic building is one of the reasons former Mayor John Ostenburg recently sent a letter to Cardinal Blase Cupich of the Archdiocese of Chicago urging something be done to save the deteriorating building.
In a bold-faced portion of the two-page letter, Ostenburg wrote that “what was once a magnificent structure … today is an eyesore!”
He added all the structures “are not being properly maintained, regularly have had an overgrowth of grass and weeds, and are a blemish where once stood a beauty.”
Ostenburg’s letter comes on the heels of the end of Trinity Lutheran Church’s 76-year existence in the village. What was once a flourishing religious community of hundreds and a pillar of the village’s religious community. At the end, Trinity was down to 48 members, but it ended its congregational life on a note of charity, donating $228,000 to various religious and nonprofit groups in the area.
In the bustling first years of the village, the Holiday movie theater was the site for Jewish services Saturday mornings and United Protestant services on Sundays. Today, many old houses of worship have new tenants.
Example. Congregation Am Echad Synagogue and Temple Beth Sholom, the two Jewish houses of worship, have changed hands and denominations and where there were once four United Protestant churches, now only Grace and Calvary exist. Hope Lutheran Church with its large tower and gorgeous acoustics, is now home to Lilydale Baptist Church.
Time, that great shape shifter, changes everything.
Sad last words
During the funeral service Saturday for Tim Jones, I heard the words that he was shot “in the line of duty.” That is a standard response by both police and the military when something bad happens to those doing what we demand of them — to keep us safe.
Hopes and deeds
The new year always comes with fresh plans, renewed hopes and a promise of change, and although we have written these words each year at this time, it bears repeating now more than ever.
We live in challenging times and every so often we need to recall and grasp the words of a poem by Eugene Pickett, the former president of the Unitarian Church of America.
Pickett’s eight optimistic verses always seem appropriate at the dawn of each year. He begins with homage to the universe and moves from there to a celebration of our world, our lives and our beliefs, concluding with a plea that we live “not by our fears but our hopes, not by our words, but our deeds.”
The year 2026 might be the right time to start.
Happy New Year, dear readers.
Jerry Shnay, at jerryshnay@gmail.com, is a freelance columnist for the Daily Southtown.