You have a Holy Spirit anointing

God never anointed anybody twice. David was anointed of the Lord through Samuel; later Israel’s elders did anoint him a second time, but that was confirming their acceptance of his kingly authority. The anointing through Samuel was a divine anointing. Jesus was anointed by God. Afterwards, a woman poured ointment on Him, which He said was for His burial. Normally priests and kings had only one anointing, and that was at the beginning of their career.

Some sing “Oh, for a new anointing” and pray for “another Pentecost,” but the whole concept of another and new anointing, as if the original anointing had faded away, is strange to New Testament thought of the eternal Spirit. The anointing is self-renewing—it renews us, not we it. He is the Spirit of newness. 

First John 2:27 says, “The anointing which you have received from Him abides in you.” Exodus 40:15 says, “You shall anoint them … that they may minister to Me.” Second Samuel 1:21 speaks of the “shield of the mighty” being anointed for battle, and Leviticus 6 tells us of the anointing for sanctified service and holiness.

We can pray with our hands laid upon our friends to bring God’s strength and blessing, but we must not suppose we can “top up” a person with the Spirit each time, assuming the enduement has died away. 

The Holy Spirit does not evaporate! If we are doing the work to which God called us, the anointing rests upon us without ever becoming less. We receive it moment by moment, like a waterfall fed by a never-failing river. All that is usually necessary is that we release His energies by working in His name.

The anointing is not to make us as conspicuous as Joseph in his coat of many colours. In a TV commercial, a young lady with a very bad cold, who cannot smell, sprays herself with more and more perfume. When she opens the door to her admirer, her perfume overpowers him and knocks him down. It is human to want overwhelming power, to bring an impact that everybody can feel. 

John the Baptist wore conspicuous clothing, a rough garb, and ate peculiar food. This told everybody he was a holy prophet. Jesus did neither. He dressed inconspicuously and ate anything set before Him. 

Many were awed in the presence of Jesus, but it was not by that kind of magnetism. It came as concern and love for men and women—that is why they fell down and worshipped Him.

In ourselves, sinful and limited, we are utterly incapable, either by personal ability or holiness, of becoming the temples of the Spirit, but still we are His temples. 

We wonder and worship. When that mighty Spirit takes up His abode with us, then oil, hands, or anything else upon our outer flesh are tokens only of His indwelling greatness.

Along with anointing, as we said, there are other symbols of the Spirit, but we have especially looked at this one for a very good reason. What we are trying to teach in this book cannot be learned like studying for an examination, but it must enter the heart and flow out in life—it must “take root downward and bear fruit upward” (Isa. 37:31).

Paul wrote to the Philippians about the loveliness of Christ’s humility; then he went on to mention two women who were at odds with each other, Syntyche and Euodis. Then, with great tact, he first thanked the Philippians for their recent kindness and described it as “a sweet-smelling aroma”—in Greek, euodia, a gentle hint to Euodia herself (Phil. 4:18).

The inward Spirit is seen by outward effects, physical indications of an inward and spiritual cause. To hanker for mere power in order to show off is corrupting, odious, and not fragrant. The real power of God only comes with the Holy Spirit, who reveals the loveliness of the Christ life and His graciousness—“Love to the loveless shown, / That they might lovely be