This weekend is Pentecost, one of the major feasts in the life of the Church. It's when we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to the early followers of the risen Jesus fifty days (pentecost is Greek for fifty) after Passover. Acts tells the dramatic story, which we will once again read with extra flare, so come to church this weekend ready for excitement.

For many of us, Pentecost is one of the few times all year that we think much about the Spirit. Jesus is our focus the vast majority of the time, and through him we come to know what God the Father is like, too, but the Spirit remains somewhat off to the side, strange and mysterious. It need not be so.

A few weeks ago, I preached on the Paraclete, which is how Jesus refers to the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of John (14:15-18). Paraclete can be translated in lots of way, including comforter, advocate, and even ally. Perhaps thinking of the Spirit in this way can ease some of our hesitation, for don't we all know the power of companionship? There is something about having even a single person on your side that can be the difference between making it or not, enduring or not, maybe even surviving or not. If we know we have an ally we can keep going – someone who says, "I am with you. You can count on me. I have your back." And when that ally is not only sent from God but actually is God, then there is nothing we cannot face.

Allow me to offer one more way of comprehending the Third Person of God. I have heard the Spirit described as the presence of God in the "in between." That is, the Spirit seems to show up most often in the liminal spaces of life, places of change and transition, thresholds between has been and what will be.

Consider where the Spirit appears in Scripture. In Genesis 1, the Spirit hovers over the deep at the dawn of Creation (1:2). Light and life have not yet burst forth. The wheel of time has not yet been set in motion. But even then, before anything is, there is an intention in the mind of God to bring something out of nothing. Creation is coming, and in this in-between, the Spirit moves.

Then consider the story of Jesus. In all four gospels, the Spirit appears at the start of his ministry. It is the hinge of history, you might say, as Jesus prepares to leave behind the quiet and ordinary life of Nazareth and begin the work of saving the world. That's when the Spirit descends upon him and drives him forward, at this momentous threshold. In this in-between, the Spirit moves.

Then there is Pentecost. Acts tells of a band of anxious and uncertain apostles. They knew what they had witnessed, they knew what Jesus had told them, but they were not yet sure what to do. They couldn't go back to their old lives, but they didn't yet know how to begin their new lives. Christ was alive, but Christ was still not yet alive in them. This is the moment when the Spirit arrives in noise and fury. In their in-between, the Spirit moves.

The Spirit likes to dwell with us in the gaps, when we are in-between where we've been and where we're going. When we stand in one place but wonder what may be over the horizon. When we feel like where we are now is not where we will always be, but we haven't yet summoned the strength or courage to embark. In this I don't mean simply a physical transition of location or action, but also an inner transition of heart and mind. In all the holy liminal spaces of life, in our in-betweens, the Spirit moves.

So this weekend, and beyond, pray to the Spirit to come as your advocate and ally. Pray for the Spirit to be with you, at your side and on your side. And if you're at a threshold, a place of uncertainty, a time of transition, pray to the Spirit to do what she does best: to visit you in that in-between, and move.