Living a stone's throw from Chicago makes it easy to hear a lot of great live music. All kinds of live music. Over the past month I watched a raucous Decemberists show at the Riviera and an Arcade Fire show at the Chicago Theatre that left me buzzing for a couple of days. Later this summer I hope to be surprised by some bands I've never heard of at the Pitchfork Music Festival . On Saturday I drove into the city to hear some live music of a different variety.

 I suppose the case could be made that the Gospel Festival is the showcase for the musical history that has led to the indie rock shows I so enjoy. Walking with my wife through the crowd to stake out our piece of lawn at the striking Pritzker Pavillion it became clear that this was not a typical concert. The bands were rocking, the singers wailing, and the crowd... well that's where it was different. The crowds I was a part of at the recent Decemberists and Arcade Fire shows were most interested in what was taking place on stage. That is where the action, as it were, took place. At the Gospel Festival though it seemed that the very enthusiastic crowd was less interested in what they could see on stage and more interested in what was being sung. Occasionally the woman to my left would call out, "Hallelujah" to a lyric she was familiar with. The man to my right stood much of the time in quiet devotion, eyes closed.

Often times the best music can do is make us aware of what is happening all around us. Quality music and songwriting make us aware of our reality. But occasionally music does more, it points beyond the immediate to something greater. Between sets at the Gospel Festival the DJ asked performers and choir directors what gospel music meant to them. It quickly became apparent that this music was more than a description of how things are. For the preformers the music told a story of how things are meant to be. Whether or not they are always experienced, themes of justice, equality, love, and redemption are proclaimed in the face of an often disheartening reality.

Walking away from the festival, the sounds of the next choir clear for blocks, it was apparent that we'd experienced more than a good concert with amazing musicians. We'd been invited into a reality that is easy to miss. A reality that sings in the face of oppression. That dances in spite of war. A reality that holds the final note, voice straining, sweat dripping, and proclaims that there is still good news- gospel- to be found.

And the crowd jumps to its feet and shouts, "Amen."