The dramatic events of that first Pentecost are known to all of us. The tongues of fire, the driving wind, the amazing gift of tongues, the empowerment of the disciples is a scene that fills the imagination and has inspired artists and poets down the ages.

In our own day many have been caught up in enthusiasm for the Spirit, some having the gift of tongues, some the gift of healing or one or other of the many gifts the Spirit brings.

But when that first flush of enthusiasm passes, what then? When prayer meetings no longer attract us and the `buzz' of the Spirit seems to fade, what is left? Do we look back wistfully at a time when we seemed to be full of the Spirit? Do we feel let down as we plod along familiar tracks, a bit like the two men on the road to Emmaus, (Luke 24) who were full of discouragement as their hopes died.

Or, maybe not. Maybe we have learnt the truth of what Jesus said `The Spirit blows where he wills.' The Spirit is not a jack-in-the-box that pops up whenever we release the catch. And if we have been listening to God's Word, we believe, and live out of this belief, that God comes to those who love him.

An error many of us make is to look for the Spirit only in signs and wonders and fail to recognise his presence in the common things of life. The Pentecosts of the present moment, of the basements, elude us if we are focused only on the upper room. The Spirit moves in the strangest places, as happened, for example, in the lives of a group of former pimps, prostitutes, drug addicts and homeless people who were the regulars of a small Christian church in an American city. The pastor of this congregation used to get his little flock to recite the Apostles' Creed every Sunday. Finally one day one of them told him it was a waste of time because none of them understood it. The theology was away over their heads! The pastor, a wise man, suggested that they write their own creed, one that would reflect their personal experience of God. And they did. It was short and simple and from the heart; this is what they came up with: "We'll never be kicked out again. We're home, baby!"

No high theology here, but how the Spirit moved among this group of `failures.' Against all odds they realised that they were accepted and loved by God. They belonged.

Writing to the Galatians, St Paul says, "The harvest of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness and self-control." For all the violence in the world, for all the terrible stories we hear of or read daily, we are nonetheless surrounded by people of the Spirit. Go through that list of St Paul and think of people you meet, even daily, who radiate one or more of these qualities. Ordinary people who may never make the headlines but who, because they try to be open to the Spirit, are the leaven in our society. Give thanks for them and give thanks too for the Spirit in whose love we find our true and lasting home.

Then go sing a loud and joyous `Alleluia!'

Sr Redempta Twomey is Assistant Editor of the Far East at St Columban’s, Navan, Ireland