Acts 8:26–40

In the New Testament the word for "south" is νότος. Acts 8:26 is the exception. There the word is μεσημβρία, "mid-day," because the sun is in the south at mid-day — just as the Latin meridies, "mid-day," also means "south."

Acts 8:26 means that the way from Jerusalem to Gaza was desert. Many think this refers to the road through Hebron, because after leaving that city the country is mostly desert.

God, in His providence, takes care of His servant; He sends an angel to direct him as to the road he is to take. But when it is a question of the gospel and dealing with souls, the Spirit takes the direction. "And the Spirit said to Philip, 'Go over and join this chariot.'" The angel and the Spirit of God go with the evangelist. The first stands for the providence of God, marking out the very road he is to take. The second stands for spiritual power in direct dealing with souls.

The angel said not a word about the soul of the Ethiopian. I do not know that the angel knew anything about it. The angel had to do what God told him: "Tell that man to go by the road that is a desert." And then comes the spiritual part, and here the Holy Spirit steps in.

There were two roads, it appears. One was through a populous part of the land, and the other was desert. Well, a desert is not the place an evangelist would choose. So the angel, acting in the providence of God, says to Philip: "You go that desert road." And one of the beautiful things about Philip is that he was not one to reason it out.

Philip shows the character of prompt, unquestioning obedience from a simple heart. He is called to leave his prosperous work. All his personal importance was tied to that work (if he had been seeking importance), and there people surrounded him with respect and affection. The place he was sent to was a desert. Philip's ready obedience does not think of the difference between Samaria and Gaza, but of the Lord's will: and he goes.

He at once obeyed, and went. But why he was taken from the fruitful field of his labours was as yet a secret unknown to him. In the path of obedience he got light cast on his way. Though the place he reached was called a desert, he did not find himself alone there.

He does not say, "Ah, I won't be able to get a congregation, and I don't like a small one anyway; I want a big one." He has not a word about small or big. In fact, he was not going to have a congregation at all. He must be content with one single soul. That soul is precious beyond all calculation to God.

But how is one to know now, seeing that angels and the Spirit do not speak to him as they did to Philip? Though not spoken to in this way, he ought to look for and expect divine guidance. Faith must be his guide. Circumstances are unsafe as a guide; they may rebuke and correct us in our path, but the eye of God must be our guide. "I will counsel you with My eye upon you" is the promise, "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go."

Is it not remarkable that Philip, the only man the New Testament plainly calls an evangelist, was sent away from public service to one man in the desert? (Acts 8).

He does not say, "Ah, I will not be able to get a congregation. And anyway I don't like a small one; I want a big one." He has not a word about small or big. In fact, he was not going to have a congregation. He must be content with one single soul. That soul is precious beyond all calculation to God, if not even to himself.

He was a man thoroughly trusted, with an immense amount of money going through his hands. He clearly had a high place in the trust of his royal mistress. But despite all that, there was a want in his heart. This man, we find, had gone up to Jerusalem to worship. No doubt he was a convert to the Jewish faith... Seeking after God, he had taken this thousand-mile journey from beyond the southernmost edge of Egypt.

Yet, whatever his greatness, his heart was not satisfied within that circle, and he had come as a worshipper to Jerusalem... Yet it was the very house of which the Lord had testified, "You have made it a den of robbers." God's own thought was that it should be a house of prayer for all nations, where even the Ethiopian might stretch out his hands to God. But in the hands of His people it had become a place of robbery and spoil. How then could the heart that truly sought Jehovah be satisfied there?

The Queen of Sheba and the Ethiopian eunuch are both examples of this, but with a difference. The Queen got the blessing in Jerusalem, for everything was in divine order in her day. The eunuch got the blessing as he travelled away from Jerusalem. By then the Temple was an empty shell, and the Christ of God had been rejected.

He was also an outcast in religious terms, despite his high position and his heart for God. As a eunuch — and I have no doubt the word is meant literally — he could not come into the congregation of the Lord (Deut. 23:1). That held true whatever precious assurances of future blessing there might be for him (Isa. 56:3-5).

We find him in his chariot, reading the prophet Isaiah. And you can depend on it, now as then. If you find a man who has got hold of the Scriptures and is reading them, you will notice that God sends some Philip to that man's side, sooner or later. Yes, if you are in downright earnest to get the truth, you will get it.

The Ethiopian was a son of Ham. Saul, the Jew, was a son of Shem. Cornelius, the Roman, was a son of Japheth. That is one man from each of the three families of mankind after the flood. It shows the universal reach of the gospel of the grace of God, and its power. We would have put the centurion first and the African last. But God's ways are not our ways. He knows how to rebuke our pride, and with Him the last shall be first.

He was a man thoroughly trusted, with an immense amount of money going through his hands. He clearly held a high place in the trust of the queen he served. But despite all that, there was something missing in his heart. This man, we find, had gone up to Jerusalem to worship. No doubt he was a Jewish proselyte... He was seeking God, so he had made this thousand-mile journey from a land beyond the southern edge of Egypt.

He was going back without the blessing that his earnest heart yearned after. He had gone up to the great city of solemn feasts, but the blessing was no longer to be found there... Jerusalem had this added to her other sins, that when the blessing had come down from heaven, she would not have it. She despised the Holy Spirit just as she had despised the Messiah. No wonder, then, that this man who had gone up to Jerusalem to worship was heading home with the longings of his heart still unmet.

He was also an outcast in religion, despite his high position and his heart for God. As a eunuch he could not come into the congregation of the Lord (Deut. 23:1), whatever precious assurances of future blessing there might be for him (Isa. 56:3-5). He sits in his chariot on his way back from the city of hollow forms and empty ceremonies. He turns to the pages of the prophets, and to Isaiah most of all, to find comfort. But sorrow met him here too, and a sorrow he could not see into: the sorrows of One from whom Israel, it seemed, had turned, One led as a sheep to the slaughter, silent as a lamb before its shearers, His judgment taken away, His life taken from the earth. The cloud lies over it hopelessly, as it seems to him, unless someone guides him; and he has no one.

The Word of God was addressing his soul. The Prophet Isaiah was taking him out of himself. He was not startled by the stranger's voice in that desert place. All he cared for, all he thought of, was the secret of the Book... And Philip let him into the secret that he was searching.

He is also a beautiful example of an anxious soul. When alone and with nothing to do, he reads the prophet Isaiah. He thinks over the prophecy of the suffering, unresisting Lamb of God. But the moment of light and deliverance had come.

We find him in his chariot, reading the prophet Isaiah. And you can count on this, now as then: find a man who has got hold of the Scriptures and is reading them, and you will see God send some Philip to that man's side, sooner or later. Yes, if you are in downright earnest to get the truth, you will get it. This man was in earnest in seeking for light, and the knowledge of God. God saw this, and prepared the way for his receiving what he sought.

The angel of the Lord directs him. There were two roads, and an evangelist would not have chosen the desert one. But the object of God's grace was travelling by this one; and God uses an angel here, as He always does in His providence... But here it is not an angel but "the Spirit" that said to Philip, "Go over and join this chariot." Angels have to do with circumstances, the Spirit leads as to souls.

As it was then, so it is now. Yet we think more readily of the guidance of the Spirit than of the direction of providence. May we trust God for everything! He changes not!

Philip shows the character of prompt, unquestioning obedience with a simple heart. He is called to leave his prosperous work. That work carried all his personal importance (if he had been seeking it), and there people surrounded him with respect and affection... Philip's ready obedience does not weigh the difference between Samaria and Gaza. It looks at the Lord's will, and he goes. The gospel now spreads to Gentiles who had joined the Jewish faith, and makes its way to the heart of Ethiopia.

Circumstances do not guide him; the Lord does... Because he is in the path of obedience, the Spirit is free to use him. The power of the Spirit is the only power for the Lord's work, and only in the path of obedience can a servant know that power. Being in that path, Philip hears the Spirit say, "Go over and join this chariot." He is in the path of obedience and in the power of the Holy Spirit, and he is also in the energy of divine affection. Another writer has linked this with Luke 15, where the father ran to meet his lost son. Here the servant, in tune with the heart of God, runs to carry the good news of salvation to the thirsty soul.

He always directs us to the right person, if only we are willing and ready, like Philip, to go at the Lord's bidding... "Go near." God does not say, Go into the chariot. Oh no! God says, "Go near, and join yourself to this chariot."

A stranger to that eunuch made bold to address him. Naturally he might have pushed him away. Why should that plain man dare to intrude on such a high official? He had no following, not even one servant to mark his rank... But when the Spirit prepares hearts, they are ready to welcome help. The outward appearance of the person, or the strangeness of such a meeting, raises no objection in the mind of a true inquirer.

It was not an angel, but the Spirit whose voice told him to draw near to the anxious Ethiopian official. We may not hear Him as Philip did, but He still gives us guidance of the same kind in dealing with souls. The Spirit knows their need. In love He works through Christ's members and servants, who often have no idea what He is going to do. The love of the Spirit is a real thing, as well as the love of Christ.

It was an admission that he could not understand without a teacher. It was almost a confession of the great fact: whatever human learning may boast, the unaided mind of man cannot grasp the truth of God at all.

As a eunuch — if we take that literally, as I do not doubt we should — he could not enter the assembly of the Lord (Deuteronomy 23:1), whatever precious promises of future blessing there were for him (Isaiah 56:3-5). Sitting in his chariot, returning from the city of empty forms and barren ceremonies, he turns naturally to the prophets, and to Isaiah most of all, to find comfort. But here too he met sorrow, of a kind he could not penetrate: the sorrows of One from whom Israel seemed to have turned, One led as a sheep to the slaughter... He is reading this aloud as he overtakes Philip on the road. It is as if he wanted to press on himself something that ought to have meaning for him, but has none. The cloud hangs over it, and to him it looks hopeless without some guide. He has none.

Sadly, it was then as it is now in Christendom. The vision of Him who came to make God known, who otherwise cannot be known, passes from the learned to the unlearned. It is as if the divine answer to every riddle were itself the one riddle nobody can solve. Ask the learned man to read, and he says, I cannot, for it is sealed. Ask the unlearned man, and he excuses himself, I am not learned. Faith alone can understand: so it is, and so it ought to be.

But no one can understand these divine things unless the great and only teacher guides him — the Holy Spirit. This was the eunuch's difficulty; Philip was the Spirit's chosen instrument for teaching him.

How well it will be to ask ourselves how far we realise in practice that a Divine Person lives in us. He is the perfect Judge of all doctrine, the Teacher of all teachers. It can never be humility to forget that He is with us. If we listen to Him, we shall never be deceived or led astray... This brings the conscience into exercise before God. It frees us from all indifference about teachers — for the Spirit uses His instruments with us as He pleases — and at the same time from all exaggerated deference to them.

Why should that plain man, with no escort, not even one attendant to mark his rank, presume to intrude on such a high official?... But when the Spirit prepares hearts, they are ready to welcome help; and the outward appearance of the person, or the strangeness of such a meeting, raises no objection in the mind of a true inquirer... He needed help. He confessed it. And believing Philip could give it, he begged him to come up and sit with him. The servant of Candace and the servant of the Lord were now together. The eunuch was probably used to people listening to him with respect. Now he sat as a pupil at the feet of the evangelist.

One great charm of the passage before us is this — I see that God has His eye on an anxious man. He will, in a sense, interrupt the blessed work of His grace elsewhere, at least through one particular channel, to meet that anxious man... See what He does. He calls Philip away from his remarkable evangelistic work in Samaria and sends him down into the desert to meet one man. That is God.

These verses emphasise the unjust and twisted judgement passed on the Lord Jesus. They also show how He received everything from God. He did not protest His innocence or argue against the sentence. He quietly accepted the injustice, knowing that a deeper purpose was in view.

Verse 7 emphasises His silence before His accusers. When men are treated harshly and unjustly, they protest. That is natural and normal. So His silence went against all experience, and the Gospels record it — Matthew 27:11-14; Mark 15:3-4; Luke 23:9; John 19:9. A sheep really is silent before the shearers, as anyone can see today by watching shearers at work. But He was not like a sheep being sheared. He was like a lamb led to the slaughter. He was indeed "the Lamb of God," as John the Baptist announced, and yet no word of protest left His lips.

He could have thrown back every charge and cleared Himself against each accuser. But self-defence was not His aim. Full and unmistakable self-surrender was the business of His blessed life here on earth.

He sits in his chariot, on his way back from the city of empty forms and lifeless ceremonies. He turns to the prophets, and most of all to Isaiah, to find comfort. But sorrow met him here too, and a sorrow he could not get to the bottom of — the sorrows of One from whom Israel, it seemed, had turned away, One led as a sheep to the slaughter, silent as a lamb before its shearers. He is reading this aloud as he catches up with Philip on the road. He reads as if to press on himself something that ought to mean much to him, but does not. The cloud hangs over it hopelessly, as it seems to him, without a guide; and he has none.

The first verse foretold the Lord's rejection during His life (John 12:38). The fourth verse predicted His ways in grace and healing (Matthew 8:17). The fifth verse stated His bearing of our sins, and the blessed result of that for us (1 Peter 2:24). The ninth verse declared His spotless innocence (1 Peter 2:22). That same verse announced His burial in Joseph's tomb (Matthew 27:57-60). The last verse sets out God's appreciation of Him.

The meekness and gentleness of the Lord, His humiliation, His suffering and His death won the heart of the eunuch. They bound him with everlasting bonds to our great Saviour. He did not delay. He had to become His disciple at once and be identified with Him in His death.

The eunuch finds that he too can have his place in the congregation of the Lord. He finds One who can do for him what Jerusalem and the law could not do.

The first clause of verse 33 seems to express how His trial made a mockery of all righteousness. The second expresses the unspeakable wickedness of that generation. The third expresses the violent end of His life on earth, which He bowed to — and that end proves their wickedness.

He was doubtless reading from the Septuagint version in Greek, which renders it, "In his humiliation justice was denied him." And so it was. The trial of our Lord ended in His condemnation and crucifixion, and it was the most shocking miscarriage of justice the world has ever seen. A legal expert has gone through the evidence of the Gospels. He states that every step taken by His accusers and judges, Jews and Gentiles alike, was irregular and unjust.

In condemning Him, men violated every principle of right judgment. But He was content to keep silent before His judges and to move His case to the highest Court in the universe. He knew that His vindication in the presence of Jehovah was sure.

To understand "posterity" here (even in a spiritual sense) seems to go against normal usage, and against this context too. The meaning is His contemporaries instead. How blind they were to His glory! And how blind to the wonderful work His humiliation was about to achieve by His atoning death on the cross! In their murderous hatred they were only hurrying on the very thing that would take away, in the grace of God, the transgression of His people.

And the prophetic declaration of the result is, "He was cut off out of the land of the living," or as the Ethiopian read it, "His life is taken from the earth." So the prophet asks, "Who shall declare His generation?" and to this question men would all reply that, His life being taken, no generation was possible. When we reach verse 10 of our chapter we shall find the answer Jehovah gives to this question, and it is a very different one, since He was cut off and stricken not for Himself but for the transgression of those whom Jehovah calls "My people."

Some old interpreters used this to prove the eternal generation of the Word. They were not justified in it, any more than others who took it of His miraculous Incarnation. But no distortion seems worse than the conclusion that words like these promise Christ's life will last for ever. The whole passage refers only to His humiliation.

In the burnt offering it is not a question of sin-bearing, or of enduring the wrath of God. It is wholly one of voluntary devotedness, shown in the death of the cross… "For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again" (John 10:17). Here we have the burnt offering side of the death of Christ. On the other hand, the prophet sees Him as the sin offering and says, "his life is taken away from the earth" (Acts 8:33, which is the Septuagint version of Isaiah 53:8).

The wording differs from the Old Testament we have because of the Septuagint, the Greek version in common use then… The sense stays much the same. But we should not conclude that Philip kept to this scripture alone. He "began" from it, and that word rather implies — and warrants — that he did not end there, but explained other scriptures too.

Philip put an important question to the eunuch: "Do you understand what you are reading?" The eunuch's answer was just as solemn: "How can I, unless someone guides me?" He was admitting that he could not understand without a teacher. It was almost a confession of a great fact. Whatever the empty boasting of human learning, the mind of man on its own cannot grasp the truth of God at all.

A stranger made bold to speak to that eunuch. It would have been natural for him to brush the man off. Why should this plain man dare to intrude on such a high official? He had no attendants, nothing to mark his rank. … But when the Spirit prepares hearts, they are ready to welcome help. The look of the person, or the strangeness of the meeting, raises no objection in the mind of a real inquirer.

When Philip was sent to the eunuch, the question was mainly about the person. "About whom," asked the eunuch (not "about what"), "does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?" And Philip "began at that same scripture and preached to him Jesus."

It is true, as we have often noticed in this prophet, that "my servant" sometimes applies to Israel. But the context always gives clear marks that make the decision neither difficult nor doubtful. Chapter 53 makes it plain and certain. There the Individual in question stands out clearly from the people who did not value Him. He bore their griefs and carried their sorrows. He was wounded for their transgressions, and His wounds brought them healing when He was crushed for their iniquities. He suffered from them and for them, and afterwards brings them remarkable blessing. To make this suffering One the same as those people is the grossest confusion.

It was not by chance but from God that the passage of Isaiah in front of him set out the holy suffering Messiah. Other parts of this same prophecy, before and after, testify to His exaltation. But here it is sufferings only. That was the main difficulty to a Jew, who thought only of His glorious kingdom. So the name "Jesus" fits Philip's use of the prophecy. It is all the more striking because the Spirit had said that Philip proclaimed "the Christ," the Messiah, to the Samaritans. … The Samaritans needed to hear that the Christ had come. The Ethiopian needed to know that the despised and suffering Jesus was beyond doubt the Messiah. … "Jesus" was the right word for this. It says what He became in manhood, so that rebellious creatures could despise Him. It also tells out His own glory — He who stooped so low for us. He was Jehovah the Saviour.

To the eunuch. He explained Isaiah 53. Philip began at that scripture; it goes on even to the glory, for you get "he shall divide the spoil with the strong."

The meekness and gentleness of the Lord, His humiliation and suffering and death — these won the heart of the eunuch. They bound him with everlasting bonds to our great Saviour. He did not delay; he had to become His disciple at once and be identified with Him in His death. So he said, "See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?"

He had come all the way from Ethiopia, a poor hungry man. He went to Jerusalem to find something, for that was where people learned to know the true God. Yet he was going back with an empty heart. Would the Lord let that be? Would He let a man who is seeking Him in that way go back empty? He takes Philip from the middle of the revival at Samaria and sends him into the desert. There He brings Philip and the eunuch together. The eunuch is holding the Bible, open at the very place where He wants Philip to preach from. Out of Isaiah 53, Philip preaches Jesus to him.

"He opened his mouth." This may seem a small matter, yet I think it has a practical lesson for us... Eloquence is certainly not needed, and neither are finely-polished sentences. But two other passages of Scripture show that the servant has a duty to speak clearly and simply. The truth he teaches may be precious. It still builds no one up if his hearers cannot hear or understand what he says.

He "preached to him Jesus" — not doctrines or theories, but a living, loving, personal Saviour. Philip has no difficulty about his text. He has learned that Christ is the spirit of Scripture. So from the passage the eunuch was reading he preaches Jesus, the theme of the good news of God.

So the name "Jesus" fits exactly where Philip applies the prophecy (v. 35). It is all the more striking because the Spirit who inspired the record had said in verse 5 that Philip proclaimed "the Christ," the Messiah, to the Samaritans... The Samaritans needed to hear that the Christ had come. The Ethiopian needed to know that the despised and suffering Jesus was beyond doubt the Messiah... Now "Jesus" was the right word for this. On one side, the name says what He became as a man — someone rebellious creatures could treat with contempt. On the other, it tells out the glory that belongs to the One who stooped so low for us.

We are not to conclude that Philip limited himself to this scripture. The word "began" points the other way: he did not end there, but explained other scriptures too.

Philip began at that scripture, and it goes on even to the glory, for you get "he shall divide the spoil with the strong."

The Shepherd's eye was on him, and the Spirit directed Philip to speak to him. Then it became clear that he was one of the sheep for whom the Good Shepherd had given His life. In earlier days the law never let a eunuch enter the congregation of the Lord (Deut. 23:1). Now he could enter the assembly of God and of Christ — and he did.

It is sweet to see the effect on the man listening to that wonderful story. The story started at the point that seems to have impressed his soul most deeply: "His life is taken away from the earth." So he exclaimed, "See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?" If the One who had won his heart was gone from the earth, then from now on he would live under the shadow of His death in this world.

I do not read that Philip said anything about baptism, but the eunuch says, "See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?" Now, what did he mean by this? He had heard of the life and death of the Lord, and he learned that Jesus had gone into the grave and risen again. He seems to say, "He came into this scene for me, and He has died out of it. Now I would like to identify myself with Him, even if only in the figure of baptism. In this water I would like to put on His name."

So the eunuch says, Here is water, why not let me own the judgment of God? Let me be buried here at once, on the spot. In this he justified God. He owned the full redemption in the precious death of Jesus for him. Then he gave himself up as entirely dead with Him. Think of all that he was: an Ethiopian, a religious man who had been to Jerusalem to worship, a child of the first Adam. He committed all of it to the grave, buried with Christ.

Where is His command to the person to be baptised or to take the Lord's Supper? A command puts things in an altogether wrong light. Christian baptism is a favour conferred on the soul on the authority of the Lord Jesus. The Ethiopian asks, "What prevents me from being baptized?" And Peter, in the case of Cornelius, says, "Can anyone withhold water?" It would be strange to talk this way if it were a command. Who would think of hindering or forbidding a command of the Lord?

Baptism follows the hearing of faith. So when they come upon some water, the stranger asks what prevents his being baptized, and receives the privilege on the spot… Without the heart's subjection to the Lord and His grace, the outward mark is worse than worthless. Yet its importance is neither small nor slight. Those who despise it lose the truth it stands for as plainly as those who make an idol of it. They fail to see that life is never attributed to baptism. Salvation is what baptism sets forth — the washing away of sins, and death to sin, the blessed portion the gospel bears witness to in Christ dead and risen for the believer.

The next passage omitted of any importance is Acts 8:37: "And Philip said, If you believe with all your heart, you may. And he answered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God." The context shows that this verse is in no way needed for the story. For many years, people on all sides have agreed that it is an addition with no warrant. To believe with the heart is a divine condition (Rom. 10:9-10), but let us thank God — for who could stand the test? — that we are not required to work out whether we believe with our whole heart.

From that Scripture Philip preached Jesus to him. As he listened to the story of the utter humiliation, the rejection and crucifixion of Jesus, the glory of this world lost its shine and faded from his eyes. Another Object filled his vision — Jesus, whose life was taken from the earth. He cried, "See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?" He would follow Him. He would turn his back on the world that had rejected Him. He would be identified with Him in His death as far as this world was concerned. Even self and all its former hopes must go in death. He was eager for it, nothing must stand in his way.

He had learnt he was a dead sinner, and what should hinder his burial? This is how it was done: "they both went down into the water, Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him." That is, he buried him in water as a dead sinner. It was a figure of the death and burial of Christ the adorable Substitute. And then he was raised out of the water, and went on his way rejoicing. He did not go down into the water to wash the man clean; no, it was to bury him. The water of baptism does not pour some virtue or grace into the dead sinner. And do not for a moment suppose it can wash away his sins and their stain. It is simply the figure or expression of the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ.

Baptism follows the hearing of faith. And so, when they come upon a certain water, the stranger asks what hinders his being baptized, and receives the privilege on the spot… The outer mark is worse than worthless without the heart's subjection to the Lord and His grace. Yet it has its importance in ways neither few nor small. The loss of the truth it represents is as clear in those who despise it as in those who idolise it. They fail to see that life is never attributed to baptism. Salvation is set forth in it: the washing away of sins, and death to sin. This is the blessed portion the gospel testifies to in Christ dead and risen for the believer.

With the Ethiopian all was simple and assured. There was no thought of going before the assembly in Samaria. Baptism is individual, no matter how many souls are baptized. The church has nothing to do with it. The Lord directed His servants — not the church as such — to baptize. They are responsible to Him for this, as they are for the preaching of the word. The church does not baptize, any more than it preaches and teaches; the evangelist does, though he may ask another to do it for him.

He saw the conclusion. If the only One who had a perfect title to live here had His life taken from the earth, then it was time for him to be associated with that One in the place of death and burial. Baptism sets that out in figure. That would close the record of his life as a man of the world. The eunuch was also a man of marked distinction in the world's affairs. Baptism for him would mean that he could never again be recognised as one of the world's great men.

That man was not driving his own chariot that day; somebody else was driving it. He had a fine carriage, and I expect there were a good many servants looking on. It is a fine thing when the master takes a stand for Christ; you will generally find that a blessing then comes to the servants as well.

Verse 39 calls for special notice. And here I have no doubt the wording is deliberate. Its speed and abruptness are meant to drop the idea of the person. It is not as if the Holy Spirit as a person came and took him. He was caught away, not by man, nor by human means, but by the sovereign power of the Holy Spirit. The definite article is left out of the phrase on purpose.

The miracle only established the new convert's faith, which is no doubt what God worked it to do. There is not a hint that Philip wished it, still less that he asked for it in prayer. It was God acting for the honour of His Son, by that Spirit's power at work on earth. And surely there was a wise and gracious purpose in the witness of it — and he was not alone — for the man returning to his native land with the gospel of salvation.

Philip's mission to him had now ended. He had preached Jesus to him. He had baptised him at his own request. Then "the Spirit of the Lord carried Philip away." He disappeared as suddenly as he had come, or even more so. The two who had met in the desert never met again on earth. The eunuch continued his homeward journey without turning aside to try to find Philip. "He saw him no more" is the writer's statement, and he gives the reason. The word should be read "for," not "and": "he went on his way rejoicing."

Philip is caught away; the mere human teacher is not to take the place of the Divine. His coming and his going are both well suited to assure the new disciple. He may safely rest in the all-sufficiency that has now met him and ministered to him.

"He went on his way rejoicing." The Spirit of the Lord catches Philip away. Yet the eunuch's heart is so full of the truth that we may be sure everything that happened confirmed it in his eyes. How could anything seem too great and good to him whose heart had just made the acquaintance of Jesus? Did he not feel all the more settled in Jesus because there was now no other object before his soul? It was the Lord who had brought Philip, and it was His Spirit that had taken him away; but it was He too who had given him, and left him, Jesus for ever.

The Queen's treasurer is received among the disciples of the Lord by baptism, which sealed his faith in the testimony of the prophet Isaiah. He had made a hard journey from a far country to Jerusalem, to seek salvation in legal duties and ceremonies, but with faith in God's word. Now he goes on his way, rejoicing in that salvation. A beautiful picture of the grace of the gospel! He carries home with him what grace had given him in the wilderness — what his tiring journey to Jerusalem had not obtained for him.

As they came up out of the water, we read that "the Spirit of the Lord carried Philip away." No doubt God stepped in here with a miracle. And notice: the eunuch was not the only one who saw it. That man was not driving his own chariot that day; someone else was driving it. He had a fine carriage, and I expect there were a good many servants looking on. It is a fine thing when the master takes a stand for Christ; you will generally find that a blessing then comes to the servants as well.

He was found at Azotus, the ancient Ashdod, situated north of Gaza. From there Philip worked his way north. He preached the Gospel in all the cities until he reached Caesarea. The Gospel had now reached Samaria and Judea, though some places in each province may still have been unvisited. It had been planted in both. So the commission given to the disciples (Luke 24:47), and repeated in more detail to the Eleven (Acts 1:8), was being carried out.

Philip is carried away. The merely human teacher is not to take the place of the Divine One. Both his coming and his going are well suited to assure the new disciple of one thing: he can rest safely in the all-sufficiency that has met his need and ministered to him.

There is not a hint that Philip wished it, still less sought it in prayer. It was God acting for the honour of His Son, by the power of the Spirit at work on earth. Carried to Azotus (or Ashdod), Philip stays the same simple-hearted, tireless preacher of divine grace.

Philip was caught away and was found about twenty miles north of Gaza, at Azotus. From there he started out again, preaching the Gospel. Many cities heard his voice. Many Gentiles lived in these coast towns, which included larger places like Jamnia, Lydda, Joppa and Antipatris. The day of Christ will make known the labours and also the reward of this great Evangelist.

Philip was a true evangelist. What is more, he had not lost his place as an evangelist when we find him very late in the book of Acts. That is an important hint. Those who begin as evangelists should not lose that place later. They should not grow weary of the work, or give it up for another. Philip is still called an evangelist later on. In fact, that is just when he is given the name... Yet Philip had been set apart by the laying on of hands only to take care of the tables and to look after the poor in Jerusalem. But God called him to another work, and this was his work.

So this evangelist reached Caesarea before Peter came there on his remarkable mission to Cornelius. I venture to think he had a part in that beautiful work in Caesarea, recorded in Acts 10. In chapter twenty-one you will find that he lived there. When Paul came, he stayed with the fully trained gospel worker, "Philip the evangelist"... The apostles had a greater idea of the evangelist than many people have nowadays.

The first Gentile to receive the call was Cornelius, an officer in the Roman garrison at Caesarea... Remarkably, both Philip and Saul had already visited Caesarea, yet neither seems to have preached the Gospel there (Acts 8:40; Acts 9:30). In this we see the sovereignty of God. He has His own time and His own instruments to carry out His work in every place.