The way we choose to read this story, the origin story of the church, is that when the Holy Spirit shows up, or, rather, when people become attuned to the Holy Spirit that had been there all along, it seriously messes with prior categories of the holy and unholy. And, initially at least, it’s not those people out there who need to change and become like us, joining our group, speaking our language, but it’s we who are changed to learn new languages and cross boundaries.

For Youth Sunday we heard thoughtful reflections from three graduating seniors about how they are incorporating Paul’s advice to the Philippians into their life.

So, back to this question I asked, what is the faithful response to people who enter our sanctuary having already experienced harm? It’s both simple, and complicated. It’s to love them unconditionally, and to reassure them that even though you may not be walking in that dark valley with them – God is. Unconditional love looks like letting survivors feel their grief, anger, sadness and pain, not making your love conditional to a good mood, or a presentable public face. Unconditional love looks like giving survivors the agency to find their own meaning about what happened to them, not making your love conditional on listening to your good advice.

It’s like a creation reboot in miniature, starting behind those locked doors, moving out into the world.  Except the wounds of history don’t just go away.  They’re all still there.  The hands and the side and the fear and grief.  More like a reimagination of the human story mid-stride.  A daring proposal that homo sapien, clever human, could become homo pacificus, peaceful human.