TOMORROW is the feast of Pentecost. It is the birthday of the Christian Church, the day, described in the Acts of the Apostles, on which the Holy Spirit came down on those who were gathered in the upper room.

On that day, there was the sound of a rushing wind, flames of fire are said to have appeared among them, and, when the Apostles spoke, we are told that the different people who were living in Jerusalem at that time heard them speaking, each in his own native language.

We do not need to know precisely what took place. It was evidently something powerful, a profound mystical experience.

Almost forty years ago I was lucky enough to hear the Canadian Jesuit, David Stanley, reflecting on this event. One point made a particular impression on me.

I remember Stanley remarking in relation to Pentecost that there was no nostalgia in the New Testament. He referred to the way people, nowadays, will sometimes say how much they would like to have seen Jesus during His public ministry. They believe that it would have strengthened their faith if they knew what He had looked like, if they had heard the sound of His voice, if they had seen how He walked. They look back to the public ministry of the Christ as to a golden age. How unlucky are we to have missed it?

At first, the point may seem obvious, but, Stanley observed, it is a view which is utterly foreign to the New Testament. There is no trace of it there. Nobody is looking back. Thomas, it is true, wanted to be able to put his finger into the wounded hands and his hand into Jesus’s side, but that was not nostalgia. He wanted proof to conquer his doubt. So why was there no nostalgia?

It is because, Stanley explained, the public ministry of Jesus for the writers of the New Testament was not the golden age. For them that began with this outpouring of the Holy Spirit. That was the start of the golden age. It runs from Pentecost to the Second Coming of Jesus. Why look back? This is the golden age. We are living in it now.

The very idea may seem laughable. We look around and what do we see? It seems an age more of greed than of gold, of hatred and conflict, of violence and terror, of atrocity and abuse. But perhaps the expression “age” needs to be defined more precisely.

It may appear to suggest a time marked by particular actions, so a golden age would be one when we may assume that all our problems are solved and our desires are satisfied. And our age plainly is not like that. But an age is not in fact defined by events. It is defined by its spirit. There is, however, more than one spirit abroad.

The images from Iraq reveal a dark spirit: a man beheaded and many others stripped naked, compelled to perform degrading sexual acts, and tortured into denying their religious faith. And the tormentors have something in common: they are enjoying themselves. What was delighting them was revealing their spirit.

We may be appalled, but we must take care not to hide behind extreme images. Extremes have ordinary origins. The question remains the same. What delights us? What reveals our spirit?

Pentecost reminds us of another Spirit. Here is the Spirit of the golden age, a Spirit of forgiveness and reconciliation, inspired by love. It is easy to write the words. Hard questions are needed to make them real.

So, when did I last forgive someone for an injury done to me? I don't mean a misunderstanding or something trivial; I mean some serious hurt. When did I last admit I was wrong? Or must I always save face? And have I been grudging or have I delighted in that forgiveness and reconciliation? We discover our spirit when we come to know what delights us.

The Holy Spirit has been called the delight of God. That is the Spirit poured out at Pentecost and offered to us still. In these dark days, if we will receive this Spirit, we can overcome the darkness. It is not automatic. The choice is ours. Which spirit are we welcoming?

Monsignor Roderick Strange is the Rector of the Pontifical Beda College, Rome