That Word Above All Earthly Powers: The Book of ActsGrace Community Church Sunday SchoolActs 8

Severe persecution afflicts the church, but serves to spread the Gospel (8:1-4).

Acts 7 ends with the death of Stephen and the introduction to Saul of Tarsus in Luke’s typically understated way. Saul was apparently not an active participant in Stephen’s murder, but he was in hearty agreement with it. By laying their coats at his feet, he stood as witness or validation perhaps to what was happening. Here is a man whose evil is terrifying, and who has the means and motive to act on his bloodthirsty zeal against Jesus.1

The Sanhedrin and its disciples (those like Saul) took courage from killing one Christian and decided to pursue other Hellenistic Jewish Christians like Stephen, thus prompting many of the saints in Jerusalem to flee. The apostles remained in Jerusalem, possibly because the immediate threat was directed at Hellenists and not Hebrews.2

Some of those who remained in Jerusalem honored Stephen (and bravely defied the Sanhedrin) by burying his body and grieving for him. This is reminiscent of Nicodemus’ and Joseph of Arimathea’s courage in asking Pilate for the body of Jesus to be cared for and buried in Joseph’s tomb. This seemingly small act of faith on the part of these unnamed, unknown saints testifies to their continued devotion to both Jesus and His Church.

Luke contrasts the tenderness of Stephen’s pallbearers with the rabid fury of Saul. Luke uses a word with the sense of “brutal, sadistic cruelty” to describe how Saul is persecuting the Church.3 Saul was not reluctant or hesitant in storming the homes of saints and dragging them off to prison, beatings, death, or any combination of the three.

There’s a detail in verse 3 that is incredibly important in multiple ways. Luke notes that Saul’s aggression was directed at both men and women.4 Tom Wright explains, “When you’re doing that kind of thing, you only arrest people who are likely to be a problem, people who are full members of, and possibly also potential leaders in, the movement. It is striking, here and elsewhere, that this number regularly, from the very beginning of the movement, included not only men but also women” (Wright, 124).

Unfortunately, the discussion about women leadership in the early church can obscure the larger and more important point he makes: Saul’s zeal was to eradicate this movement, possibly starting with the Hellenists in Stephen’s circles. He would likely have targeted those he deemed to be a threat, and among those threats were both men and women.

It seems that the Church, particularly today (and particularly me!), has forgotten that “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment” (2 Timothy 1:7 CSB). We live in fear of

1 It would be no easy task to convert such a man [i.e., Saul of Tarsus]; Luke is hinting at the remarkable character of Saul’s subsequent transformation (Marshall, 150). At all events, they laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul (58b), an experience he never forgot (22:20). Thus discreetly does Luke introduce into his narrative the man who is soon to dominate it (Stott, KL 2493-2494).2 The successful attack on Stephen was the signal for a wider attack on the church in Jerusalem, no doubt instigated by the same group that had attacked him (Marshall, 151). It can be presumed that the opposition in Jerusalem came principally from Stephen’s opponents and that it was directed mostly against his associates in the church. The apostles were presumably left alone; the fact that they could stay on in Jerusalem (no doubt along with other Christians) confirms the suspicion that it was mainly Stephen’s group which was being attacked (Marshall, 151).3 The verb lumaino expresses ‘a brutal and sadistic cruelty’ (Stott, KL 2546-2547).4 Not only did he not spare the women, but he did not stop short of seeking— and securing— his victims’ death (9:1; 22:4; 26:10). Saul of Tarsus had blood on his hands, for several others followed Stephen into martyrdom (Stott, KL 2548-2550).

what the culture, empowered by sin and Satan’s machinations, will do to us next. We live on the defensive, hoping to survive the next barrage of fiery darts. The reality, however, is that it should be exactly the opposite.

Recently, Secretary of Defense Mattis was interviewed, and the interviewer posed the question to him: “What scares you? What keeps you up at night?” Secretary Mattis’ answer has to rank as one of the top-five all-time greatest answers to an interview question; he said, “Nothing. I sleep like a baby. I keep other people awake at night.”

As Christians, we are not the ones who are to live in fear; we have been given power, love, and sound judgment because we have been given the Holy Spirit. In fact, it is the devil and his minions who are fearful of us, because of the Greater One within us!

What a tremendously powerful change of perspective this gives us! We are under attack, not because we are weak or incompetent or easy pickin’s (even though all three are certainly true); we are under attack because we are threats! With full hearts we can join our brother Martin Luther and sing, “The Prince of darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.” One little word—the word of the gospel—from any and every one of Jesus’ saints lays the evil one low.

We must think, speak, and act as though this is true of every Christian, including (perhaps especially) women who believe. To every born-again woman and girl at Grace, we can say to you and of you, “You are a powerful warrior in the cause of Christ. The Evil One attacks you because you are a threat. You are critical to the mission the Lord has given us, and we would be so much less without you.”

For me, this drastically changes the discussion about women’s roles in Church and leadership. The question shifts from, “Can women be preachers or pastors?” to “In what ways can you strengthen the Lord’s army and terrify His foes? How are you already doing that?”

Luke, in both the Third Gospel and Acts, has a particular gift for highlighting the forgotten, neglected people whom the Lord has neither forgotten nor neglected. In Acts, we will see him highlight the service of several women (Rhoda the servant girl, Lydia, and Priscilla join the ranks of these unnamed women saints).

As the Christians scattered to flee Saul, they kept walking with Jesus, just as they had done in Jerusalem. They “went on their way preaching the word” (8:4 CSB). Wherever they went in Judea and Samaria, they took the Good News of Jesus and the radical love He had wrought in their hearts with them.

Once again, the important point arises: these are not the apostles. These are everyday, regular believers. There’s no expectation of a professional class of preachers (although there were likely many in the thousands who fled); Luke’s point is that regular people just spoke about Jesus wherever they went.5

Those who were driven from their homes or felt it wise to leave them preached the Word as good news as they went about from place to place. It is interesting that this particular movement is not attributed to any specific guidance from the Spirit, such as occurred at other crucial stages in the expansion of the church. It seems rather to have been regarded as the natural thing for wandering Christians to spread

5 Up to this point it was the apostles who had given the lead in evangelism, in defiance of the Sanhedrin’s ban, violence and threats; now, however, as the apostles stayed in Jerusalem, it was the generality of believers who took up the evangelistic task. Not that they all became ‘preachers’ or ‘missionaries’ as a full-time vocation. The statement that they ‘preached the word’ is misleading; the Greek expression does not necessarily mean more than ‘shared the good news’. Philip was soon to preach to the Samaritan crowds (6); it is better to think of the other refugees as lay witnesses (‘ nameless amateur missionaries’) (Stott, KL 2561-2566).

the gospel; perhaps opportunities for doing so arose naturally, as the people into whose midst they came asked them why they had left their homes (Marshall, 153-154).

And in so doing, what Saul meant for evil (and what was evil), God intended for good (and worked for true good). The Good News went from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria, just like Jesus said it would (1:8).6

What is plain is that the devil (who lurks behind all persecution of the church) over-reached himself. His attack had the opposite effect to what he intended. Instead of smothering the gospel, persecution succeeded only in spreading it (Stott, KL 2566-2567).

Philip preaches the Good News to the Samaritans (8:5-25).

Luke turns from Stephen to the second of the Seven that he highlights: Philip. Chapter 8 is an important chapter in Acts because of how it highlights the second phase of the Acts Commisssion: the conversion of the Samaritans. The statement at the end of verse 1 seems to be more summary in nature; here in this section, we see the particulars of how the Gospel advanced through Samaria, and the end of the chapter will begin the story of the Gospel’s move beyond Judaism to the Gentiles.7

What’s interesting is that Philip himself may have been the source of this part of Acts; Luke and Paul stayed with Philip and his family in Caesarea, according to Acts 21:8.8

Philip goes down (Samaria is actually north of Jerusalem, but because Jerusalem is in the mountains, you always go “down” from and “up” to Jerusalem) to “a city in Samaria.” Some early copies of Acts have “the” city in Samaria; the region and its capital are named alike. The significance of going to Samaria is that Jews and Samaritans mutually hated one another.9

When the Jews were exiled by Assyria and Babylon, Gentile peoples moved into the land in their absence. Some of the returning exiles intermarried with the Samaritans and developed their own competing version of Judaism with that of Jerusalem; they only held the Pentateuch to be Scripture, and set up their own temple worship on Mount Gerizim (hence the question from the woman at the well in John 4).10

6 The church was shocked, even stunned, by the martyrdom of Stephen and by the violent opposition which followed. But, with the benefit of hindsight, we can see how God’s providence used Stephen’s testimony, in word and deed, through life and death, to promote the church’s mission…Luke remembers how the risen Lord commanded his followers to be his witnesses ‘in all Judea and Samaria’ (1:8), as well as in Jerusalem; now he shows how the commission was fulfilled as a result of persecution…[I]f Stephen’s martyrdom led to persecution, and the persecution to the dispersion, the dispersion now resulted is widespread evangelism. The scattering of the Christians was followed by the scattering of the good seed of the gospel (Stott, KL 2522-2524, 2551-2552, 2558-2560).7 Luke saw the ministry of both men as helping to pave the way for the Gentile mission. Stephen’s contribution lay in his teaching about the temple, the law and the Christ, and in the effects of his martyrdom, while Philip’s lay in his bold evangelization of the Samaritans and of an Ethiopian leader. For the Jews regarded the Samaritans as heretical outsiders and Ethiopia as ‘the extreme boundary of the habitable world in the hot south’ (Stott, KL 2527-2530).8 He may have obtained the facts from the lips of Philip himself, for about twenty years later he stayed in his home in Caesarea (21:8) (Stott, KL 2573-2574).9 The story … records the reception of the gospel by the Samaritans, a people whom the Jews cordially hated and regarded as heretical; the feeling of hostility was, however, mutual (Marshall, 152).10 Samaria, the hilly part of the country in between Judaea in the south and Galilee in the north, had for centuries been home to people whom the Jews on either side regarded with deep suspicion and hostility. They were the people who had been in the land while the Jews had been in Babylon, and when they returned from Babylon they found themselves alongside one another. The Samaritans (who are still there, by the way, in small numbers and often, alas, treated as a mere tourist attraction) kept to a form of Judaism but with significant elements changed. There was no love lost between them and the Jews, and there had been several incidents of mutual violence (Wright, 127-128).

Thus, Samaritans were half-breeds and heretics; schismatics who separated from true Israel to pollute themselves and their worship with Gentiles.11

For the hostility between Jews and Samaritans had lasted a thousand years. It began with the break-up of the monarchy in the tenth century BC when ten tribes defected, making Samaria their capital, and only two tribes remained loyal to Jerusalem. It became steadily worse when Samaria was captured by Assyria in 722 BC, thousands of its inhabitants were deported, and the country was re-populated by foreigners. In the sixth century BC, when the Jews returned to their land, they refused the help of the Samaritans in the rebuilding of the temple. Not till the fourth century BC, however, did the Samaritan schism harden, with the building of their rival temple on Mount Gerizim and their repudiation of all Old Testament Scripture except the Pentateuch. The Samaritans were despised by the Jews as hybrids in both race and religion, as both heretics and schismatics (Stott, KL 2576-2582).

Philip, being full of the Spirit, completely ignored the centuries-old taboos and preached the Good News of Jesus to them in love and obedience. His message to them is authenticated by “the signs he was performing” (8:6 CSB), including healing paralytics and exorcising those possessed with demons. They received spiritual and physical healing from Jesus through Philip, and there was “great joy” in it all.12

We see in Philip’s ministry obvious parallels with both Jesus and the apostles: the same kinds of healings happen, and the same kinds of responses follow them.13

In each of these three ministries, the miracles were a support to the preaching. The miracles themselves were demonstrations of the divine authority with which each spoke and also of the kindness and compassion of God. Miracles show what it looks like when the Kingdom these men preach breaks into this present Age; therefore, to have eternal life, to live in that Kingdom, one must listen to the message of these men.

We must not say that the miracles are unimportant; clearly, they are. God is not stingy with His compassion and kindness, and His delight is in saving sinners and showing grace. (This is an important reminder for us, too!) They’re also a glimpse of the perfection that is to come when Jesus has made all things new.

But we have to also remember that this is frontier missions, not the established Church. That helps temper our expectations for whether this should be normal within the experience of the Church.

It’s also a reminder to us to pursue joy in God’s individually and corporately in us. Joy, being a fruit of the Spirit, is something He springs up within us, and something that we cultivate in Him.

Luke then tells of Simon Magus, a (former?) sorcerer in town who was held in high esteem by the people because of his personal charisma (pun intended) and the effect of his power. He even gained the nickname “Great Power of God,” and all the people “paid attention to him…because he had amazed them with his sorceries for a long time” (8:10-11 CSB). But then Philip arrived, and the true Great Power of God with him.

Philip’s preaching by the power of the Holy Spirit broke the spell Simon held over the people; the One in Philip was indeed greater than the one in the world (and Simon). Only the mighty power of the Holy

11 To the Jews the Samaritans were not Gentiles but schismatics, part of the ‘lost sheep of the house of Israel’ (Marshall, 153).12 At any rate, hearing Philip’s message and seeing his signs, the crowds … all paid close attention to what he said (6), and the combination of salvation and healing brought great joy to the city (8) (Stott, KL 2597-2598). And so Philip cheerfully breaks a centuries-old taboo (as, of course, Jesus himself had done, for instance in John 4 and Luke 17.11– 19), and the Samaritans, equally cheerfully, accept his news about the Jewish Messiah – not least, it appears, because of the remarkable healings that Philip performed at the same time (Wright, 128).13 Like Peter (5:16) he could exorcise evil spirits, and the people could hear the cries that came from the possessed victims when the demonic powers left them (cf. Luke 4:33; 9:39; Mark 1:26). The people could also see for themselves how people who had been paralysed or lame were now able to walk; again Philip’s activity matches that of Peter (3:1–10) and Jesus (Marshall, 154).

Spirit can break our attentions and longings to sin and the deception of the evil one to see truly. Luke narrates what Paul theologizes:

But if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case, the god of this age has blinded the minds of the unbelievers to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we are not proclaiming ourselves but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’s sake. For God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of God’s glory in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 4:3-7 CSB).

The Samaritans’ eyes were opened to that very glory, and they joyfully received the gift of eternal life at Philip’s preaching. They demonstrated their repentance, faith, and allegiance to Jesus by being baptized—the very thing that Peter had preached in Jerusalem. (There’s a problem that the apostles will address next). Instead of being enthralled with Simon, they’re now enthralled with Jesus.14 Even Simon seemed to join the crowd in receiving Philip’s preaching of Jesus, being baptized and following Philip everywhere:

It is not just that Philip’s miracles rivalled Simon’s magic. It is rather that, whereas Simon boasted of himself, Philip preached the good news of the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ (12). The people first ‘paid close attention to what he said’ (6a), and then believed Philip. Luke seems to mean that they believed Philip’s gospel, in other words were converted, for they then were baptised, both men and women (12b). It is less clear what Luke intends us to understand by his next statement that Simon himself believed and was baptised and followed Philip everywhere, astonished by the great signs and miracles he saw (13). He who had amazed others was himself now amazed (Stott, KL 2613-2618).

The apostles in Jerusalem hear of the conversion of the Samaritans, and Peter and John set out to Samaria themselves. Luke tells us what motivated them to go: they “heard that Samaria had received the word of God” (8:14 CSB) and because “the Holy Spirit…had not yet come down on any of them” (8:15 CSB).

Luke never conveys any deficiency in Philip’s preaching or in the genuineness of the Samaritans reception of it. It was not suspicion but wonder and joy that sent Peter and John north; and Luke records the two praying for the Samaritans and laying hands on them15, but never a word of correction or rebuke of Philip’s message or their response to it.

Why did the Samaritans not receive the Holy Spirit? Peter had preached that those who believe would receive the Spirit along with forgiveness of sins. Why not the Samaritans? Why only when Peter and John pray for them?

Again, it wasn’t because somebody did something wrong. Philip preached faithfully, and they repented and believed.16 In this case, there was a unique delay in the receiving of the Spirit because this was a major milestone in the life of the Church and the spread of the Gospel.

14 The effect of Philip’s preaching was that the people paid attention to him (verse 6) instead of to Simon (verse 11) (Marshall, 155).15 Peter and John didn’t preach to them, but rather prayed for the Spirit to be given to them (Marshall, 158).16 The people proceeded to be baptized, and one would expect that Philip was satisfied of their sincerity in so doing; nothing in the story suggests that he was inadequate as an evangelist. On the whole, there is no clear evidence that the people were merely superficial in their belief (Marshall, 156). Luke gives no hint that he considers the Samaritans’ original response inadequate, although he is clear that Simon Magus’ profession was bogus. No, Luke writes that outstanding blessing attended Philip’s ministry (4–8); that the Samaritans ‘believed Philip as he preached the good news of … Jesus Christ’ (12), so that it is inadmissible to divorce believing Philip from believing the Christ Philip preached; that they ‘had accepted the word of God’ (14) in the believing sense in which he uses this phrase elsewhere (e.g. 2:41 and 11:1); and that the apostles gave no indication that they thought Philip’s ministry or the Samaritans’ faith to be defective (Stott, KL 2727-2731).

John Stott notes that it was quite fitting for John to come and pray for the Samaritans and rejoice in their new faith, since he and brother James were the ones in Luke’s Gospel who wanted to call down fire from heaven and destroy a Samaritan town. The Son of Thunder has become the Apostle of Love.17

The Holy Spirit wanted it to be absolutely clear to everyone that the Samaritans were equal recipients of grace with the Jews who had believed, and He sent Peter and John ahead of Him so that they would receive the Spirit through them. The Church was not to be a Jewish sect or denomination but a global Kingdom, and there is no caste system in Jesus’ reign.18

This seems to have been interpreted in terms of the significant move that was taking place across the traditional boundary of culture and suspicion. It was important, they appear to have concluded, that what was happening in Samaria would not be dismissed by suspicious people in Jerusalem or elsewhere as merely some eccentric occurrence which could be waved away and discounted, leaving the new movement belonging only to bona fide Jews (Wright, 128).

By Peter and John laying hands on the Samaritan believers and the Spirit coming upon them then, it was clear that there would be “one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope at your calling—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all “ (Ephesians 4:4-6 CSB).19

This was a unique moment in salvation history, not a model to be repeated in the life of the Church. Peter preached in Acts 2 that the promise of the Holy Spirit is received upon repentance-faith-baptism; Luke points out the Samaritans because they deviate from the normal for this particular occasion—the crossing of the Jew-Samaritan barrier.20

By Acts 9:31, the presence of Samaritan believers in the Church was an accepted truth, “taken for granted” by Luke and the Church at that time.21

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end here. Simon sees the Holy Spirit come upon the Samaritan believers when Peter and John laid hands on them, and he offers them money to have the same “power” himself. This is our first indication that Simon’s profession of faith and baptism are suspect; he’s trying to bribe the apostles into bestowing their control over the Holy Spirit to him!

17 It was particularly appropriate that one of them was John, since Luke describes him in his gospel as wanting on one occasion to call fire down from heaven to consume a Samaritan city. Now his desire is to see the Samaritans saved, not destroyed (Stott, KL 2631-2633).18 God withheld the Spirit until the coming of Peter and John in order that the Samaritans might be seen to be fully incorporated into the community of Jerusalem Christians who had received the Spirit at Pentecost. This view is confirmed by the way in which, when Cornelius received the Spirit, Peter explicitly testifies that the Holy Spirit fell on him and his family just as he had fallen on the first Christians; it was the same experience (11:15–17) (Marshall, 157). The most natural explanation of the delayed gift of the Spirit is that this was the first occasion on which the gospel had been proclaimed not only outside Jerusalem but inside Samaria (Stott, KL 2770-2772).19 They were thus brought into fellowship with the whole church, and not merely with the Hellenist section of it (Marshall, 153). Is it not reasonable to suggest (in view of this historical background) that, in order to avoid just such a disaster, God deliberately withheld the Spirit from these Samaritan converts? The delay was only temporary, however, until the apostles had come down to investigate, had endorsed Philip’s bold policy of Samaritan evangelism, had prayed for the converts, had laid hands on them as ‘a token of fellowship and solidarity’, and had thus given a public sign to the whole church, as well as to the Samaritan converts themselves, that they were bona fide Christians, to be incorporated into the redeemed community on precisely the same terms as Jewish converts (Stott, KL 2781-2786).20 [W]hat happened in Samaria diverged from the plain and general teaching of the apostles. Initiation into Christ, according to the New Testament, is a single-stage experience, in which we repent, believe, are baptized, and receive both the forgiveness of sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit, after which by the indwelling power of the Spirit we grow into Christian maturity (Stott, KL 2707-2709).21 The reception of the Samaritans into the church was thus firmly endorsed, and in 9:31 the presence of Samaritans in the one church is taken for granted by the narrator (Marshall, 160).

What he wanted was not simply that he might have the gift of the Spirit himself but rather that he might have the power to bestow it on other people (Marshall, 158).Simon is treating the Holy Spirit like the Force in Star Wars—a power to be wielded and manipulated for his own purposes rather than a Person bringing an unworthy sinner into fellowship with the Triune God. He’s grown accustomed to being “The Great Power of God,” and Peter and John appear to have power beyond even what he’s used to!

This story coined the word “simony”—“the attempt to turn the spiritual into the commercial, to traffic in the things of God, and especially to purchase ecclesiastical office, has been termed ‘simony’ (Stott, KL 2652-2654).22 It’s not a word frequently used anymore; it seems you only encounter it in commentaries on Acts 8 and in Dante’s Inferno.

Not only the term but the concept seems rather medieval to us: this is precisely the sort of thing that sparked the Reformation. Priests and bishops and popes all corrupted by filthy lucre are the ones guilty of simony.

I have never offered anyone money in exchange for the Holy Spirit, and no one has ever tried to bribe me for the same. Simony in its original, “pure” sense just isn’t that much of our experience.

But it is a part of our experience in more subtle ways. If the issue is trying to barter with or bribe the Holy Spirit into submission, that’s an all-too-real part of a sinner’s mindset—at least for this sinner. It looks something like this:

I didn’t get ____________ that I wanted because I sinned too much last week.

or

I need to do ________________ more/better so God can bless me with ____________.

We who would be first and loudest to confess that salvation is by grace through faith and not by works are still susceptible to thinking that we have something to barter with God for His blessings! We operate on the assumption that our worthiness to receive good is proportional to our performance, so that blessings are rewards and not getting blessings are punishments.

This is foolishness, and it is dishonoring to God. If we received in proportion to our worthiness or performance, we would get nothing. God blesses because He is love and goodness and mercy and kindness; He does not punish us, for there is nothing in Jesus to punish.

Peter doesn’t waste time; he rejects Simon outright. “To hell with you and your money” is a more literal translation of Peter’s response, and the force of it demonstrates the seriousness of the matter at hand.23 Simon clearly hasn’t truly repented and believed, since he thinks God is someone (or something, it seems) to domesticate and control.

The very thought of obtaining a divine gift by some kind of payment betrays a total misunderstanding of the nature of God and his gifts (Marshall, 159).

22 When the evil practice of obtaining positions in the church by paying a price or offering a bribe developed, the sin gained the name of ‘simony’ as a result of this incident (Marshall, 158-159).23 J. B. Phillips boldly translated the opening phrase as ‘To hell with you and your money!’, which may sound like profanity, but is precisely what the Greek says (Marshall, 159).

Peter tells Simon to pray for repentance and restoration, because his “heart is not right before God” (8:21 CSB). Instead of the fruit of the Spirit, Peter sees he is “poisoned by bitterness and bound by wickedness” (8:23 CSB).24 Simon asks Peter instead to pray on his behalf, and Luke ends the story there.

Simon doesn’t appear to be repentant, merely afraid of punishment. He wants to avoid the consequences of his actions and attitudes without desiring real reconciliation and peace with God. Unfortunately, later history indicates that Simon moved to Rome and continued troubling the Church as a Gnostic heretic.25

As will be the case with Paul at the end of Acts (and Peter in the middle), Luke has no qualms about not resolving the stories of the apostles to our satisfaction. Luke never loses focus on the true main character of the history he is writing: the Holy Spirit’s advance of the Gospel to the ends of the earth. The Holy Spirit is not one to be bought or bribed or mastered; He is very God of very God, and we submit to His leading, not vice versa.

Peter and John encourage the Samaritan believers with their testimony and preaching of the truth, and they preach and evangelize the Samaritan villages on their route back to Jerusalem. Once again, we see the Gospel marching victoriously to the ends of the earth, and not even the centuries-long blood feud between Jew and Samaritan can stop the Holy Spirit’s life-giving work.

Philip leads the Ethiopian eunuch to Jesus (8:26-40).

As with the mission to Samaria, Luke most likely got this story straight from Philip himself when he and Paul stayed with Philip in Caesarea (8:40; 21:8).26 One particular emphasis in this story is the providential leading of the Holy Spirit and Philip’s submission to it, perhaps in contrast to Simon Magus.27

The “angel of the LORD” in 8:26 is the Holy Spirit, who continues to direct Philip in 8:29 (and who is identified specifically as the Spirit there). Old Testament readers will immediately recognize the reference as the powerful presence seen often as fighting for Israel and appearing at key points in history.

It’s hard for us to feel it as we read, but everything about the beginning of this story is strange. The Gospel of the King has come to Samaria and the villages of the Samaritans with great response, and joy is as contagious as a yawn wherever you turn. And yet, the Spirit tells Philip to leave this place of successful ministry and go to the middle of the desert. This is much like what we saw in Mark 1, where Jesus’ initial ministry in Capernaum was booming with success, and yet Jesus tells the disciples, “Let’s go on to the neighboring villages so that I may preach there too. This is why I have come” (Mark 1:38 CSB).

The story is set in motion by an angelic command to Philip which took him away from the scene of successful evangelism and led him to a place which must have seemed wholly inappropriate for further Christian work…What is important is that in this way Philip’s journey and the subsequent action are seen to have been instigated by God and thus to have been part of his intention. The church did not simply ‘stumble upon’ the idea of evangelizing the Gentiles; it did so in accordance with God’s deliberate purpose (Marshall, 161, italics original).

The Lord will direct us, but we must be willing to obey. Understand, Philip could have used the common excuse, “Not now!” to release himself from following God’s prompting in his heart. After all, Christian ministry was exploding in Samaria. Why would he want to leave that to head down a desert road? Conventional wisdom, in fact, would lead him to think he was already doing what he was supposed to do. Yet Philip went as directed (Merida, KL 2999-3002).

24 Commentators have argued whether the if possible implies that God was likely or unlikely to forgive Simon; probably the point is simply that Simon cannot presume upon the mercy of God and take it for granted (Marshall, 159).25 We have reliable information from Justin Martyr, himself a native of Samaria, that Simon lived there and later moved to Rome where he continued his mischief (Marshall, 155).26 On the assumption that the story is historical, it must rest on the reminiscences of Philip himself (Marshall, 161).27 [H]ere at every stage the Spirit can be seen overruling what happens (Marshall, 160).

Philip overcame by the Spirit within him the natural tendency to chicken out, second-guess, or act on worldly “wisdom” and “sense.” The same Spirit who led him to the Samaritans and worked powerfully could be trusted now on the way to the middle of nowhere.

This story makes no sense from a purely human perspective; in fact, much of Acts doesn’t. But this conversion story didn’t happen because of conventional wisdom or human planning. The Ethiopian was led to Jesus by Philip as a result of divine leading (Merida, KL 3003-3005).

The road south out of Jerusalem toward Gaza was “the desert road” or “a desert place.” 28 This road bore south-southwest toward the Mediterranean coast and the southernmost of the five major Philistine cities.29 Encountering someone along this road in the middle of the day—the heat making it the worst time to travel—was about as unlikely an event as you could imagine, and yet, Philip did encounter someone. He met the very man the Spirit wanted him to.

John Flavel said, “Providence is like Hebrew: it can only be read backwards.” At first, Philip had no way of knowing why the Spirit was sending him south to the desert, but once he got there, it all made sense. The Spirit was still leading Philip to walk by faith and not sight, and this is His ministry in us still today. The old hymn rings true: “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus.”

The man Philip met was an Ethiopian eunuch in the court of Candace, the Ethiopian queen. “Candace” is actually a title, not the name (as we think of it today); she would have been the Queen Mother who acted with the authority of the king. He would have been her Secretary of the Treasury or Finance Minister, a very high and powerful position indeed.30 “Ethiopia” would have been the Upper Nile region of southern Egypt (not the country of the same name today)31; it would have corresponded to the Old Testament kingdom of Cush.32

This story complements the mission to Samaria well, in that they both show the way the Gospel overcomes social and racial barriers. This story helps us to remember that the people we encounter in the New Testament are not white Europeans speaking King James English; here, we have a Greek-speaking Jewish Christian meeting a black African royal official.

As a eunuch, this man would not have been qualified to enter the Temple as a worshiper, yet he “had come to worship in Jerusalem” (8:27) and owned a scroll of Isaiah (8:28). It seems that he was a God-fearer like Cornelius who worshiped as much of the God of Israel as he could, given his situation as a Gentile eunuch. More emphasis is placed on Cornelius, since he was a more visible (and therefore potentially controversial) convert than this man who would likely never be seen in Jerusalem again.33

28 This is a desert road is Luke’s comment that underlines the strangeness of the command (Marshall, 162, italics original).29 Philip was sent to (and along) the desert road that goes down about sixty miles from Jerusalem to Gaza, which was the most southerly of the five Philistine cities, and near the Mediterranean coast (Stott, KL 2807-2809).30 ‘Candace’ is known to have been not a personal name but a dynastic title for the Queen Mother who performed certain functions on behalf of the king. The Ethiopian official to whom Philip was sent was her treasurer or chancellor of the exchequer, presumably a black African (Stott, KL 2814-2816). So Philip did what he was told; he obeyed instantly— and, strange to relate, he met another traveller. The man came from the country now known as Sudan (rather than modern Ethiopia) where he was a eunuch employed in the court service of the queen mother, who was known by the hereditary title of Candace and was the effective ruler of the country (Marshall, 162).31 The ‘Ethiopia’ of those days corresponded to what we call ‘the Upper Nile’, reaching approximately from Aswan to Khartoum (Stott, KL 2812-2813).32 John Polhill points out that in the Old Testament the same area is called the kingdom of Cush (Acts, 223; cf. Ps 68:31; Isa 18:7; Zeph 3:10). We’re talking about Africa here. And the fact that Philip would minister to an African man is striking indeed. It’s evidence of the spread of God’s global mission (Merida, KL 2962-2965).33 Since, however, the man returned to his own, distant country, the episode evidently aroused no immediate problems for a church that had not yet clarified its attitude to Gentile converts. The issues raised came to a head only at a later stage as a series of events forced the church to recognize and come to terms with what was going on. The story is included here both because it is about Philip and because it forms part of the gradual progress of the church towards the Gentiles. Historically it shows that the Hellenists, rather than Peter, took the lead in bringing the gospel to the Gentiles. The actual conversion is interesting, since the Ethiopian is led to faith

It was fitting that the eunuch was reading the book of Isaiah, not only because of Isaiah 53 (which he “just so happens” to be reading when Philip approaches), but also because of the promise of Isaiah 56:3-7:

No foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD should say, “The LORD will exclude me from his people,” and the eunuch should not say, “Look, I am a dried-up tree.” For the LORD says this: “For the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, and choose what pleases me, and hold firmly to my covenant, I will give them, in my house and within my walls, a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters. I will give each of them an everlasting name that will never be cut off. As for the foreigners who join themselves to the LORD to minister to him, to love the name of the LORD, and to become his servants—all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and who hold firmly to my covenant—I will bring them to my holy mountain and let them rejoice in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations” (CSB).

Having met the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53, the Ethiopian eunuch was able to receive and rejoice in the promises of Isaiah 56. The New Covenant gave him access to worship in God’s presence and gave him an inheritance better than the children he’d never have.34

The Spirit tells Philip to catch up to the eunuch’s chariot, and Philip does. The “chariot” was a horse-drawn carriage of some kind and would have traveled at a pace easily matched by someone walking alongside. The Spirit isn’t asking Philip to be Usain Bolt and have a conversation at full sprint, trying to keep up with horses at full gallop! (Yes, I used to think this.)35

Since everyone read aloud at this time (reading silently to oneself is a relatively recent historical development), Philip recognized what the man was reading. Knowing the Spirit had led him thus far, he clearly sensed the opportunity at hand and asked, “Do you understand what you’re reading?”

The Ethiopian may have been praying for understanding and recognized an opportunity himself: “How can I, unless someone guides me?” This man who worshiped God as much as he could still lacked, and yet here in the middle of the desert appears a man asking about the scroll he’s reading. It’s too much to be a coincidence, he

by the realization that the prophetic Scriptures are fulfilled in Jesus. Philip is able to act without any need for his efforts to be supplemented by the apostles (Marshall, 160-161). If the man was a eunuch in this sense, he could not have been a proselyte. The term could also be used, however, to refer simply to a court official. This may be the sense here, but the piling up of terms in the sentence suggests that the word is meant to have some independent meaning alongside minister, and Luke’s use of Old Testament language suggests that he may well have intended his readers to see a fulfilment of Isaiah 56:3–8 (Marshall, 162). It seems unlikely that he was a Gentile, since Luke does not present him as the first Gentile convert; that distinction he reserves for Cornelius. He regards the Ethiopian’s conversion rather as another example of the loosening of bonds with Jerusalem (foreseen by Stephen in his speech) and of the liberation of the word of God to be the gospel for the world. It is especially significant that this African, who had gone to Jerusalem to worship, was now leaving it and would not return there. The story ends with Luke’s statement that ‘he went on his way rejoicing’ (39), distanced from Jerusalem although accompanied by Christ (Stott, KL 2819-2824). He had come to Jerusalem in order to worship there; he was, therefore, at least a ‘God-fearer’ (Marshall, 162, italics original). It is very unlikely, virtually impossible, that he would himself have been Jewish; and, being a eunuch, he could not have been a proselyte to Judaism. He was thus an outsider, forever to remain so within the Jewish system. But there was something about the Jewish God and the Jewish way of life which had attracted him, as it did with many in the ancient world (if you think of the kind of gods that were worshipped by other nations, and of the kind of practices that were often associated with them, you might well see Judaism as a wonderful oasis of clean, calm wisdom) (Wright, 133).34 Isaiah was particularly important for eunuchs because in his work the prophet describes the future, which promises eunuchs “a name better than sons and daughters” and “an everlasting name that will never be cut off” (Isa 56:3-8). Little did this eunuch know when he began his morning that he would soon personally experience the fulfillment of such promises! And Philip had the privilege of displaying the gospel of grace to him (Merida, KL 2971-2974).35 We may presume that in normal circumstances an ordinary person would not accost a traveller of higher social rank, and therefore Philip needed the inward assurance that this was what he must do. The chariot would have been in fact an ox-drawn wagon and would not have moved at much more than walking pace, so that it would cause no difficulty for Philip to run alongside it and call out to the occupant (Marshall, 162).

must have thought, so he invites Philip to join him in the chariot (I used to think this must have been a great relief to Philip’s poor legs and breath!).

There in the chariot, Philip begins from Isaiah 53 and “proceeded to tell him the good news about Jesus, beginning with that Scripture” (8:35 CSB).

What’s missing from this encounter as compared to that with the Samaritans? There are no miracles performed here. No pyrotechnics, nothing flashy, nothing showy (again in contrast to Simon Magus). What you have is the simple power of the Spirit working through the Word.

Chrysostom contrasts the conversion of the Ethiopian with that of Saul of Tarsus, recorded in Acts 9. ‘Verily’, he says, ‘one has reason to admire this eunuch.’ For, unlike Saul, he had no supernatural vision of Christ. Yet he believed, ‘so great a thing is the careful reading of the Scriptures!’ (Stott, KL 2844-2846).

We also see an essential dynamic in how the Spirit uses the Word: he sends both the Word and a speaker. The Spirit gives to the Church not only His inspired Scriptures, but pastor-teachers to teach them. The Spirit not only inspires the Scriptures, but sends out those He has made to be born again with those Scriptures to speak and explain them.36

I Howard Marshall points out that this story parallels the post-resurrection appearance of Jesus to Clopas and his companion on the road to Emmaus: “The way in which the story is told bears some structural resemblances to another story in which a Stranger joined two travellers and opened up the Scriptures to them, took part in a sacramental act, and then disappeared from view (Luke 24:13–35)” (Marshall, 161).37

The Old Testament (and indeed, all the Scriptures) must be read by the light of the Spirit who inspired them. We cannot and must not come to the Bible as though we will master it; we come to it as those indwelt by the Spirit who carried its authors along, as those who have “the mind of Christ.”38

Having explained the Good News from the Scriptures, the eunuch is born again. They passed a wadi with a pool of water in it, and the eunuch asked for baptism. This means that Philip’s explanation of the Gospel was likely to have followed Peter’s general outline from Acts 2.39

36 Like many then and now, the Ethiopian was benefiting from a simple truth. When you find yourself attracted towards the faith, the scriptures provide, marvellously, something you can have and hold and take away and which, however far you are geographically from a place of worship, can become the source of living water from which you can drink at your own pace and in your own way. But of course, sooner or later, you find yourself faced with a passage which sounds powerful and important – but you don’t know what it means. And then you need help. Fortunately, help is often available, as it was in this case (Wright, 134). Though the Ethiopian man probably felt rejected because of his condition, Philip was able to tell him that he was loved and welcomed by the Messiah! Throughout Luke-Acts we see a recurring need for people to explain the Messiah from the Scriptures. The disciples themselves had needed such guidance (e.g., Luke 24). And after receiving this instruction from Jesus, they in turn explained the Scriptures in light of Christ’s work to the Jews in Jerusalem, as illustrated in Acts 2–7. Here this pilgrim from a distant land needed to understand the meaning of Isaiah, and the Lord sent him a wonderful guide in Philip. All of this magnifies the need for Jesus’s witnesses to understand the story line of the Bible (Merida, KL 3032-3038).37 The fact is that God has given us two gifts, first the Scriptures and secondly teachers to open up, explain, expound and apply the Scriptures. It is wonderful to note God’s providence in the Ethiopian’s life, first enabling him to obtain a copy of the Isaiah scroll and then sending Philip to teach him our of it. As Professor Howard Marshall writes, ‘The way in which the story is told bears some structural resemblances to another story in which a Stranger joined two travellers and opened up the Scriptures to them, took part in a sacramental act, and then disappeared from view (Lk. 24:13–35)’ (Stott, KL 2831-2835).38 But the general principle which he annunciates is significant. The Old Testament cannot be fully understood without interpretation. It needs a key to unlock the doors of its mysterious sayings. Jesus had provided such a key for the disciples (Luke 24:25– 27, 44–47). Now Philip was being called upon to help the eunuch in the same way (Marshall, 163).39 The fact that Philip said much more to the eunuch than is briefly hinted at in verse 35 is apparent from the fact that when the travellers reached a stream, the eunuch’s reaction was to ask for baptism. Obviously, then, Philip must have spoken to him along the lines of Peter’s sermon in Acts 2, especially verse 38, regarding the appropriate response to the Christian message (Marshall, 164-165).

Unless you’re reading from the King James Version, you’ll notice that there’s no verse 37 (it’s probably in a footnote at the bottom of the page). This verse is not originally part of what Luke wrote in Acts; a later scribe copying the book felt like something was missing or that there needed to be some explanation for why Philip agreed to baptize the eunuch. The additional verse doesn’t tell us anything about the historical encounter (since Luke never included it to start with), but it does shed light on how early Christians thought and how they were being taught by their leaders. Clearly, believers’ baptism was an integral part of the early Church’s teaching and practice, because the early scribe(s) felt it necessary to clarify that the Ethiopian eunuch did, in fact, confess to faith in Jesus before he was baptized.40

Further, we see that there is no other indication of the Spirit’s presence in the newly born-again Ethiopian than the joy that filled him as he continued home. Luke never tells us that he spoke in tongues or had any other special manifestation of the Spirit than the joy that filled his heart.41

Luke doesn’t tell us, but there is a strong tradition in early Church history that this man became a powerful missionary to his own country. Thus, both men parted ways in a newfound fellowship and unity in the Spirit, and both men went on their way to preach the Gospel. Philip moved back north through the Philistine towns starting with Azotus, working his way to his home in Caesarea; the Ethiopian moved south back to his home.42

Acts 8 shows how evangelism is tied to a single message, not a single method. Philip preached publicly to large crowds in Samaria; he had a personal conversation on the Gaza Road. Luke gives no impression that the Samaritans were looking for anyone; they were content with Simon. The Ethiopian desperately wanted an interpreter of the Scriptures.

In both cases, the Good News of Jesus was preached, that message was heard and believed, those who were born again were baptized, and they all received the Holy Spirit—and with Him, joy.43

40 The following verse (37), found in the text of AV and NIV margin, is a Western addition, not found in the earlier manuscripts: ‘Philip said, “If you believe with all your heart, you may.” The eunuch answered, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” ’ The two sentences seem to have belonged to an early baptismal liturgy. They were probably inserted into the text by a scribe who felt certain that Philip, before baptizing the Ethiopian, would have made sure that he had believed in his heart, in contrast to Simon Magus, whose heart was ‘not right before God’ (21) (Stott, KL 2849-2853).41 In any case, the fact that the eunuch went on his homeward journey rejoicing allows us to infer that he had received the Spirit (Marshall, 165-166).42 [T]he Greek verb for ‘took away’ (harpazo) normally means to ‘snatch’ (NEB) or ‘seize’, as at the rapture. But I think Campbell Morgan was right: ‘It is not at all necessary that this should be accounted a miracle. I am never anxious to read miracles in, where they are not; any more than I am anxious to rule out miracles, where they are in.’ At any rate, the eunuch did not see him (Philip) again, but went on his way rejoicing (39b), without the evangelist but with evangel, without human aid but with the divine Spirit who not only gave him joy but also, according to Irenaeus, gave him courage and power in his own country ‘to preach what he had himself believed’. Philip also went on evangelizing, working his way north along the coast, preaching the gospel in all the towns until he reached Caesarea (40b), where, later if not already, he made his home (21:8) (Stott, KL 2865-2873). Church fathers, however, claim that he became a missionary to Ethiopia. And while their accounts can’t be proven, he surely went home and told the good news to others (cf. Ps 68:31) (Merida, KL 3085-3086).43 In both instances the same pioneer spirit was shown by Philip, who won the first Samaritans and the first African to Christ. To both audiences the same message was proclaimed, namely the good news of Jesus Christ (12, 35), for there is only one gospel. In both situations the same response was given, for the hearers believed and were baptized (12, 36–38). And in both cases, the same result is recorded, namely joy (8, 39) (Stott, KL 2875-2878). So the Samaritans were unstable and credulous, while the Ethiopian was a thoughtful seeker after the truth. Yet despite their differences in racial origin, social class and predisposing religious condition, Philip presented them both with the same good news of Jesus. Consider next the methods Philip employed. His mission to the Samaritans was an early example of ‘mass evangelism’, for ‘the crowds’ heard his message, saw his signs, paid attention to him, believed and were baptized (6, 12). Philip’s conversation with the Ethiopian, however, was a conspicuous example of ‘personal evangelism’, for here was one man sitting alongside another man, and talking to him out of the Scriptures, privately and patiently, about Jesus. It is also noteworthy that the same evangelist was adaptable enough to use both methods, namely public proclamation and private testimony. But, although he could alter his method, he did not alter his basic message. It is this combination of change (in relation to contexts and methods) and changelessness (in relation to the gospel itself), together with the ability to discern between them, which is one of Philip’s abiding legacies to the church (Stott, KL 2886-2984).