Can you imagine, “The Star-Spangled Banner” at an interracial gay wedding in the heart of a Sanctuary City with attendees ranging from a World War II vet to the mayor’s black LGBTQ liaison to Martin, my cousin who did multiple tours of Afghanistan, to our nephew Michael, a mixed-race boy, then three years old, growing up in South Carolina? Child, that place would have looked like a game of whack-a-mole, with some people standing up and some people taking a knee and some people looking around like “Honey, what is happening in this place on this day?” Now, that’s church.
