Last Independence Day happened to fall on Sunday, a day of worship for many Americans and, as usual, I was at ushering at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral that morning. Because of our country’s deep tension between worship and patriotism, I felt sorry for our dean who, in her sermon that day, had to find the balance between celebrating the gospel and nationalism. She found the common ground in the word “Freedom.”

It is that time of year again: when you find me hot, dirty and breaking my nails in our shipping department.

At the start of a new year, I revive the habit of listing my blessings each night before bed. This year is no different. Appearing at the top of my list remains ‘being born in America.’

I so wish the whole country could see Hamilton or hear the eulogy of George HW Bush so they too could be broadened and inspired by the telling of another person’s life.