“When one that holds communion with the skies
  Has filled his urn where those pure waters rise,
  And once more mingles with us meaner things,
  ’Tis even as if an angel shook his wings;
  Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide,
  That tells us whence his treasures are supplied.”

God calls us to Himself before He calls us to His service.  The same Divine Spirit who qualifies for religious work, creates men anew.  Of every one so created, it may be said he was “born of the Spirit.”

In this, also, neither place nor circumstance is essential.  Eldad and Medad were both away from the Tabernacle, somewhere in the unconsecrated camp; yet they received the same blessing which their brethren were enjoying at the door of the Tabernacle.  And we rejoice that some who are now outside a place of worship—­outside this or that denomination—­outside Christendom, do receive the Spirit who transforms them into the likeness of Christ.

In confirmation of this, we recall the fact that our Lord spoke more often in houses, and fields, and boats, and streets, than in the Temple.  And the apostles who were called to follow Him were engaged at the time of their calling in their ordinary occupations, at the toll-office or in the fishing-boat.  Saul was converted on the road to Damascus, the jailor of Philippi in prison, Lydia by the river side.  All this reminds us that though our power may be limited by time and place, God’s power is not; though our work is contracted, His is broad.  The Holy Spirit is no more confined to a place than the wind is, which bloweth as it listeth over land and sea, over desert and garden.

It is a comfort to remember this when we grieve over some prodigal, who has gone beyond the reach of religious observances; who never attends worship, or reads the Bible.  We may hope about him, believe in him, and pray for him still, because the Spirit of God can reach him as He reached Eldad and Medad, “who went not up to the Tabernacle.”  The old promise is not exhausted yet:  “I will pour out of My Spirit upon all flesh:  and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.”

It is this divine afflatus, this outpouring of the Spirit, which is the great need of the age we live in.  The Church seems to be lying listless as a sailing ship, due to leave harbour, but still waiting for a breeze.  Her masts are firm, the canvas ready to be stretched, and her equipment complete.  The helmsman stands impatient at the wheel, and all the sailors are alert, but not a ripple runs along the vessel’s side.  She waits, and must wait, for a heavenly breeze to fill her sails, and till it comes she cannot stir.  Like that ship the Church is wanting impulse, and we ought to be waiting for it, and praying for it.  The power we need can only come from heaven, the breath of God must be our real moving force, and we should be wiser, stronger, and more hopeful if we entered into the meaning of the old, oft-repeated verse: