Dodger Stadium rarely looks so empty.

Rarely has Dodger Stadium felt so full.

An hour before the Dodgers played the San Francisco Giants on Friday night, it was a very strange sight: no players in the dugout, no field, barely a few hundred fans in the stands.

Sister Unity and Sister Dominia didn’t care.

They stood in front of the third base line, hugging their Community Hero Award medals as if they were receiving an Oscar.

They waved at a few people who waved back. They were met with scattered cheers. They painted their faces and smiled, shaking off their blue-and-black habits and dramatically leaving the field.

Thousands protested its presence outside the gates. Thousands more showered them with rebuke prayers and calls to boycott across the Catholic community.

They didn’t listen. they didn’t run away. they didn’t give in. The Dodgers succumbed once, and he never succumbed.

Activist group Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence finally honored as highlights of Dodgers’ 10th annual LGBTQ+ Pride Night in four-minute ceremony culminating three weeks of controversy .

You may have heard the pin drop. You may have seen your heart lift.

“The stands were empty rather than full, but the atmosphere was warm and happy,” Sister Unity said after the ceremony, which took place earlier than most Dodgers pregame events. “People were happy, people were friendly, the sun was shining, the grass was green, and now there’s baseball and hot dogs. This is LA at its best.”

The ceremony was held much earlier than the Dodgers normally hold pregame events due to what the Dodgers insist on for safety reasons. Additional police lined the stands. It didn’t matter. I had no fear. The sisters didn’t go anywhere.

“Thousands of people are protesting and there are over a million people in my community in Los Angeles County,” Sister Unity said. “No matter what happens to me, I have to be there for them. It was a moral obligation to me.”

As you may already know, the formerly anonymous Sisters is a satirical performance and activist organization that uses humor, drugs, and religious imagery to call attention to sexual intolerance.

Sisters are particularly disliked by Catholics because they dress like strange nuns and use skits to desecrate sacred rituals and objects.

But their main purpose is not to mock, but to serve. In the 1980s, Sister was on the front lines of the AIDS pandemic, providing comfort and care to countless dying men whom many would not touch.

Now their mission has changed to organizing and supporting charitable events while spreading messages of inclusion, hope and love.

One minute they may be holding a candlelight rally to support AIDS treatment, the next they may be poised at a booth at Pride Festival giving blessings.

As a lifelong Catholic, I am disturbed by some of the grotesque images the Sisters have created. However, as a proud father of a gay daughter, I saw this through the eyes of the great host Prashke and it became clear that the sisters’ excellent work far outweighed their controversial performance. understand.

A silly costume is no substitute for genuine compassion. Sexuality vaudeville never trumps acts of mercy.

After announcing they would honor the Sisters, the Dodgers shamefully bowed to public pressure and did not invite the Sisters, but changed their minds five days later and did the right thing by recalling the Sisters.

The sisters bring too much light into the world to be strictly condemned as minions of darkness. But don’t listen to me. Listen to the stories of Catholic priests.

“Some people are judging by the content of the website, which is sometimes very disturbing and offensive to those who take their religion seriously,” said the priest. Mr. Chris Ponnet, Spiritual Director of Catholic Missions for Lesbian and Gay People in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. “But they are also the group that has historically worked with the sick and dying, beginning with the HIV and AIDS pandemic.”

Ponet said if vocal Catholics aren’t careful, the hatred they’re allegedly protesting may actually come from them.

“Part of our church’s position is not to bully, demonize, hate…and they have demonized and bullied,” he said.

Melody Meyer, second from left, holds up a “God Is Love” placard during a protest in the parking lot outside Dodger Stadium on Pride Night.

(Dania Maxwell/Los Angeles Times)

Ponet said there is room for compromise and he hopes Friday night will be the beginning of those discussions.

“I hope the current Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence sees the images on their website and understands that this is hurting people,” Ponnet said. “Likewise, I would like to at least respect the pain and frustration on the other side of the church, which is clearly not perfect and has been damaged.”

All in all, it was a compelling start to Pride Nights, an odd mix of power and vigilance.

There were rainbows all over the video boards and outfield ads. But the stands along the foul line were filled with a different color: the yellow coats of the extra guards.

Manager Dave Roberts’ words contained a message of unity and peace. However, it was sometimes drowned out by several police helicopters.

“My parents raised me to love everyone, respect everyone and treat people the way I would like to be treated,” Roberts said, later adding: . …anyone who wants to come here and cheer for the Dodgers is welcome. ”

Fans arrive at Dodger Stadium for the team’s 10th annual LGBTQ+ Pride Night.

(Dania Maxwell/Los Angeles Times)

Fans at Pride Night also seemed to be doing their best, overcoming their initial disgust at having their invitations revoked to stand by the Dodgers for making the right decision.

San Diego Padre fan Victoria Weinert, 35, said: “I think it’s really important to have nights like this because baseball isn’t just heteronormative, it’s something that the community supports. It shows that they will come to support the team that will do it.” I came here for pride.

“And I think it’s really important that they have an evening like this, paying tribute to those who have done so much to support and uplift our community.”

Dylan Reinhart, 28, said attending the match was like being at home.

“I feel very welcome,” she said. “I’m glad they host nights like this to celebrate people and have an open community where people can be themselves.”

There is still a long way to go before there is a true understanding between this conservative sport and the diverse community that supports it.

Earlier this week, in complete disbelief, Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred told reporters that he doesn’t support the rainbow logo that appears on team gear, the backbone of Pride Nights.

“We have told the team that in regards to the actual uniforms, hats and bases, we don’t think it is a good idea to put logos on them because we want to protect the players.” Manfred told reporters not to make them feel uncomfortable because of his personal views, according to Chelsea Janes.

The Dodgers and Giants didn’t listen. They have rainbows on their heads. Rainbows everywhere. Sister Unity was right. LA at its best.

Times staff writer Sara Valenzuela contributed to this article.