Acts 8:5–40

Satan often outwits himself. No wonder: whatever his power, he is only a creature, and so he cannot see the end from the beginning. He brought about the murder of Stephen, and a general persecution of Christians followed. He no doubt imagined he had scored a great triumph. But an all-wise God ordered it otherwise. Among those who fled Jerusalem at that crisis was Philip. He was one of the seven whom the assembly had set apart to look after its poor. Going down to Samaria, he at once preached Christ to the people.

Philip had earlier been appointed to the work of a deacon in Jerusalem (see Acts 6:1-6)... but as soon as the assembly was broken up, his duties ended. He then started out to preach, using the spiritual gift the Lord (not the apostles) gave him... No apostle appointed him to that spiritual gift. No laying on of hands gave it, and no one else's intervention gave it. He got the office of deacon in that way. He received his gift as an evangelist from the ascended Head of the Church, the Lord Jesus. He went out and used it, and preached in Samaria — a city ripe for blessing.

CHRIST Himself is the good news. Philip preached Christ in Samaria (Acts 8:5), and there was great joy in that city (v. 8). He told the Ethiopian eunuch "the good news about Jesus" (Acts 8:35), and the eunuch went on his way rejoicing (v. 39). May God help us to remember that our business is to "announce Him as good news."... It is not a doctrine we preach. It is Christ Himself. He is the living, loving Saviour.

Christ is preached first. "Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed to them the Christ." (Acts 8:5.) And what wonderful effects that preaching produced!... Philip did the same with the eunuch. He "opened his mouth, and beginning with this Scripture he told him the good news about Jesus." He did not begin by preaching repentance as the price of salvation. So in Paul's conversion, Christ reveals Himself to him; repentance followed, no doubt.

Note, he preached Christ to them. Compare verse 35, where the same Philip deals with the eunuch: he "told him the good news about Jesus." Why the difference? Simply this. The Samaritans, though a foreign race, had for centuries taken Jewish ground. They had their own temple on Mount Gerizim. They had the Jewish scriptures. They spoke of "our father Jacob," and claimed the Jewish hope — the coming of the Messiah (John 4:12, 25). Philip therefore took them on their own ground, and announced the Christ to them.

He went to the city of Samaria and preached. The power of God was with him, and wonderful blessing followed. That is always what happens when a servant of God moves in the direct line of God's purpose. The Lord Himself had done the sowing among the Samaritans, as John 4 records. Then many had said not only that this might be the Christ, but that He truly was the Christ. Now Philip came to them and preached Christ as the One who had died, is risen, and is now in glory. And so a great time of reaping took place.

To what city in that province he went is not clearly stated. Some have supposed it was the capital. Others have suggested Sychar, the town of John 4. It is enough for us to know of the work that went on... What Jews refused, Samaritans gladly received. Malice filled hearts at Jerusalem. Much joy spread through the people of that city in Samaria. For Philip preached Christ to them.

A great work resulted in Samaria (Acts 8:1-13). This place had long been the religious rival of Jerusalem. Now the power of that grace which Jerusalem was driving away had won it over. "There was great joy in the city."

The enemy seemed now in possession like a flood. But the Spirit of the Lord raises His banner against him in the preaching of Philip, confirmed by the signs which he worked before their eyes... So the Spirit worked with power in Samaria through a free messenger of the gospel. Jerusalem had refused the testimony with hostility to the point of death.

Note, he preached Christ to them. Compare verse 34, where the same Philip deals with the eunuch: "he preached to him Jesus." Why the difference? Simply this. The Samaritans, though a foreign race, had for centuries taken Jewish ground. They had their temple on Mount Gerizim. They had the Jewish scriptures. They spoke of "our father Jacob," and claimed the Jewish hope — the coming of the Messiah (John 4:12, 25). Philip therefore took them on their own ground, and announced the Christ to them.

The Lord Himself had done the sowing among the Samaritans, as recorded in John 4... Now Philip came to them and "preached Christ," as the One who had died, had risen again, and was now in glory. As a consequence, a great time of reaping took place. There was great joy in that city.

How he attracted the interest of the people we are not told, except that he preached Christ to them. God had prepared hearts to respond to this blessed message. God also bore witness to his preaching with the miracles of casting out demons and healing the sick. Notice, it was not that Philip held a healing meeting; rather his speaking is first emphasized, then the miracles added.

But the testimony of miracles is apt to act upon the flesh. They are, indeed, a sign to unbelievers, and the Spirit of God shows us that very result in the chapter before us. The Lord gives them in grace, as a token to attract the careless minds of men. But they are dangerous when the mind rests on them and makes them its object. That was the fatal mistake made then — and not only there, but by many millions of souls from that day to this. Faith never rests on any other ground than God's word... It was the outward display of power, then so richly shown, that acted on the fleshly mind of Simon, who himself had the reputation of being someone great.

He is elsewhere called "Philip the evangelist" (Acts 21:8), but he was not an evangelist to begin with. His was a case of a man faithful to his trust, and then developing the gift God gave him. Philip was one of seven men set apart to look after the treasury and the poor (see Acts 6:1-6). That is what you would call a deacon.

The enemy seemed to hold the ground like a flood. But the Spirit of the Lord lifts up a standard against him in the preaching of Philip, confirmed by the signs Philip worked in front of their eyes. No miracle was needed there when the Lord visited the place and worked as the great and acknowledged Prophet... But now Satan had sought to wipe out the truth and set up a rival in sorcery. Sorcery is always ready to seduce, interest and alarm those who do not know the true God. And the time had also come for God to bear witness through men, the servants of Christ on earth. They were to witness to His victory over Satan and to His glory on high.

God also bore witness to his preaching with miracles: casting out demons and healing the sick. Notice, Philip did not hold a healing meeting. The account puts his speaking first and adds the miracles after.

The Greek word, παραλύω, means to loosen. It shows that the disease was paralysis. People with this illness came to the Lord carried on beds or couches. Matt. 9:2-6; Mark 2:3-10; Luke 5:18, 24; Acts 8:7; Acts 9:33. The paralysed were a picture of complete human helplessness. God alone can relieve it and raise it up.

Here, as at other times, the apostles clearly stood out above all others in doing many signs and wonders. But Acts 6:8 and Acts 8:6-7, 13 show plainly that the power was in no way limited to those whom God set first in the church. The martyr Stephen and the evangelist Philip were both remarkable in that way. Any believer who reads 1 Cor. 12 can have no real doubt about it. God might give such sign-gifts widely, and apart from all public office. Our Lord indicated the same in Mark 16:17-20: they were for "those that believed," not only for certain prominent officials.

Satan would not only use such deceiving spirits in the streets. He would also try to bring them into the very middle of the gathering of the saints... When the saints know what is being said, they can test the words by the word of God. Every spirit that does not confess Jesus Christ come in the flesh is not of God (1 John 4:1-3)... Let us not be deceived. Satan can send a lying spirit into the mouth of a man now, as he did long ago (1 Kings 22:22-23). And unclean spirits can cry out with a loud voice now as they did in Samaria (Acts 8:7).

Many believed Philip's testimony and were baptised, Simon among them. He was astonished at the miracles and signs. Sadly, it was these that struck him, not the word of God... Faith founded on miracles is worth little. The Lord, when He was here, would not trust Himself to such people (John 2:23-25). Miracles may arrest and convince the mind. They can confirm faith where it already exists. But the word of God alone can lay bare the heart and conscience. This the unhappy Simon never knew.

A great work resulted in Samaria (Acts 8:1-13). This place had long been the religious rival of Jerusalem. Now the very grace Jerusalem was driving away had subdued it. "There was great joy in the city."

The evangelist came down and preached Christ. Why Christ?... Because He was the ascended One. The Samaritans were to know that the One whom the Jew had refused was now the exalted One at the right hand of God. This was the Jesus they had once had among them. Philip preached Christ, and what was the result? "There was great joy in that city."

The enemy seemed now to be in possession like a flood. But the Spirit of the Lord lifts up a standard against him in the preaching of Philip, confirmed by the signs which he worked before their eyes... Satan had sought to wipe out the truth and set up a rival in sorcery. Sorcery is always ready to seduce, interest, and alarm those who do not know the true God... On the one hand, the crowds listened with one accord to what Philip said. On the other, unclean spirits cried out with a loud voice and came out of many people. Many who were paralysed or lame were healed. Can we wonder that "there was much joy in the city"?

The critical reading is polle chara ("much joy"), not megale ("great joy"). It seems to refer to the extent of the joy rather than its quality.

The "glad tidings" of salvation must gladden the believing soul. They cannot do anything else. There was great joy in Samaria when Philip preached Christ to them. The Ethiopian official went on his way rejoicing when he learned that Jesus had died for his sins. How could it be otherwise? How could anyone believe in the forgiveness of sins and not be made happy by the belief? Impossible.

I do not say that the first effect of the gospel is to make a man happy, but rather to make him wretched. And why? Because the gospel tells me what God is... and it tells me that I am a guilty, ruined, lost sinner... If I may put it this way, when the sinner gets miserable heaven gets happy.

With Luke 8:13 in view, I could not say as absolutely as Calvin that the joy must be the fruit of faith. At least the "faith" may not be of God, as we see in the glaring case which the Holy Spirit brings before us here.

This earnest man — not an apostle, but a simple evangelist — is empowered by the Holy Spirit to do what we read of here. But the Spirit of God had not taken up His home in that city as yet. So far He was only in the person of that one servant. There was "great joy in that city" because they received Christ, but as yet the Holy Spirit had fallen on none of them.

Who was that sorcerer? His name was Simon, and people usually call him Magus. That title points to his profession — a magician or sorcerer. By his magical arts he had bewitched the people, and had established himself in their eyes as a marvel. He gave himself out for some great one.

In the New Testament, besides the slave girl who had a spirit of divination, we read of others. Simon used sorcery and bewitched the people of Samaria for a long time (Acts 8:9-11). Elymas the sorcerer, a Jew met in Cyprus, perverted the right ways of the Lord (Acts 13:6, 8). Sorcery ranks with the grossest of sins.

He had dazzled them with wonder-working. He was content to drop a mysterious hint about its source: some greatness in himself beyond nature. That left their imaginations to go further than his cautious claim. For them he came to be "the power of God which is called great"; but before the true power of God all this collapsed.

The power over unclean spirits stands out here. In this and in other ways, Samaria appears to be largely under the power of the enemy, despite its professed worship of the true God. The truth had begun to work among them. That may well have stirred up special resistance from one who knew its power. Simon the sorcerer had been his special agent, sent to distract the Samaritans and turn their minds away from the truth.

To those captivated by Simon, Philip preached — not himself, however, but Christ. How different he must have appeared to them all from the sorcerer. Both did wonders. Simon exalted himself, and accepted the crowd's flattery. Philip preached Another, and enlisted the converts as disciples of Christ. He sank himself, his glory, his greatness, in the excellency of the One whom he preached.

Simon's sorcery and falsehoods did great damage, leading on to his own blasphemous claims. We are told here that he misled everyone around him, small and great. What use are rank or education to guard from error? Yet all of it vanished like smoke before the light of the gospel. "The kingdom of God" and "the name of Jesus" wiped out the Samaritan's empty tricks and shameless frauds.

Philip came with the gospel of Christ, and that broke this man's spell. Nothing else can deliver people from slavery to Satan, whatever form that slavery takes.

Alas! it was the miracles and signs that struck him, not the word of God. Faith founded on miracles is worth very little. The Lord, when He was here, would not entrust Himself to such faith (John 2:23-25). Miracles may arrest and convince the mind. They may confirm faith where it already exists. But the word of God alone can lay bare the heart and conscience. This the unhappy Simon never knew.

The oldest manuscripts keep the word "called"; the less reliable copies leave it out. The copyists probably did not see why it mattered and thought someone had simply added it. The word expresses the outrageous assumption of the impostor.

The enemy seemed to be in possession like a flood. But the Spirit of the Lord lifts up a standard against him in the preaching of Philip, backed by the signs Philip did in front of their eyes. … Satan had sought to blot out the truth and set up a rival in sorcery. Sorcery is always ready to seduce, interest, and alarm those who do not know the true God. … The energy of the Spirit was at work in Samaria through a free herald of the gospel. This came after Jerusalem had refused the testimony with hatred to the point of death.

Simon's sorcery and falsehoods did great damage, and they led to his own blasphemous claims about himself. We are told here that he misled everyone around him, small and great. What use are rank or education in guarding a person from error? Yet it all vanished like smoke before the light of the gospel. "The kingdom of God" and "the name of Jesus" destroyed the empty trickery and shameless frauds of the Samaritan.

Self-exaltation and personal gain were his objects, as with every other misleader, ancient and modern. … Philip's coming with the gospel of Christ broke this man's spell. There is indeed nothing else that can deliver people from slavery to Satan, whatever form that slavery may take.

Pride and self-exaltation have always been the marks of man. So people have become easy prey for Satan, whose thoughts and desires have always been set against God and His Christ. What a contrast we see in the blessed Man whom Philip preached! … Here was a blessed Man whose ways were exactly opposite to those of every other man.

The Lord hates pretension to power in a day such as the present. The display of merely human power which we see on all sides is nothing like the power of the Spirit. Those who make loud claims that the power of God is with them resemble the crowds who followed Simon Magus, saying, "This man is the power of God that is called Great." They also resemble Laodicea, which says, "I am rich," not knowing that she is "wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked."

The Samaritans, though a foreign race, had for centuries taken Jewish ground. They had their temple on Mount Gerizim, and they had the Jewish Scriptures. They spoke of "our father Jacob." They took the Jewish hope as their own — the coming of the Messiah (John 4:12, 25). Philip therefore took them on their own ground, and announced the Christ to them.

Simon's sorcery and lies did great damage, and they led to his own blasphemous claims. We are told here that he misled everyone around him, small and great. What use are rank or education to guard from error? All of it vanished like smoke before the light of the gospel. "The kingdom of God" and "the name of Jesus" wiped out the empty trickery and shameless frauds of the Samaritan.

The same strange confusion runs through this writer's remarks on Acts 8:12: "What did they believe? The things concerning the kingdom and the name of Jesus Christ. They were then baptized, and so brought into the kingdom and to the name of Jesus Christ. But whether they truly believed in Him is another thing." Did he not know that "the name" is used for the person? (John 1:12; 1 John 5:13.)

Philip preached the things concerning the kingdom of God in Samaria (Acts 8:12), as Paul did at Ephesus until everyone living in Asia heard the word of the Lord Jesus (Acts 19:8)… Apart from Paul, in fact, the kingdom forms no part of the recorded testimony of anyone in Acts, except Philip at Samaria. This does not mean it was not established in the most real way. But the great subject of everyone's testimony, as they went from province to province and city to city, was Christ — His death, resurrection and ascension. The power of the Holy Spirit gave that testimony effect in souls and brought them to confess His name, and so the kingdom was formed and spread.

When the Lord would start the work in Samaria, Philip went down and preached Christ to them (8:5). He worked miracles as well (6, 7). But we read, "when they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women" (8:12). So at Damascus (9); at Antioch in Syria (11:19-24)… it is the word of God, and not the display of power, that first caught the attention of both Jews and Gentiles. And it converted those who listened to it.

Verses 12 and 16 show us that the baptized person professes an entrance into the kingdom of God. He also professes to take on himself the name of the Lord Jesus, as his new Master. This is just as Israel of old were baptized to Moses — see 1 Corinthians 10:2.

Only the males among the Jews were circumcised; disciples, both men and women, were baptized (Acts 8:12).

He was amazed when he saw the great miracles. But more than that, he also believed, was baptized, and then stayed with Philip. But his faith was not through the word of God. God's word alone can produce faith in man, for faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God. Simon was captivated by the miracles he had seen. Philip was deceived by him, but not Peter, who uncovered his wickedness.

This man's spell was broken by the coming of Philip with the gospel of Christ. There is indeed nothing else that can deliver men from the grip of Satan, whatever form that grip may take.

This was what carried him away — not the love of God, not the truth of Christ, nor the grace of the gospel even to such a guilty, deceitful wretch as himself, but the astonishing power at work before his eyes… Others had their eyes drawn to the kingdom and its holy glories; others in spirit fell down and clasped the feet of their unseen Saviour and Lord Jesus Christ, lost in wonder, love, and praise. Simon was in ecstasy as he watched the signs and great deeds of power… Not a word suggests self-judgment before God, not a word of any gracious work on his heart.

It was the miracles that had this influence over his spirit, not the seed of God, the divine word entering his heart. Believing because of miracles alone is not the faith that works by the Holy Spirit. God may indeed work miracles and signs to confirm His word. The end of John 2 shows that Jesus did not trust those who had believed in this way. When the Spirit of God works, He produces needs in the soul that Jesus alone can satisfy.

It may not be in the least insincere, and those who believe this way may be the readiest to fight for their creed if it seems necessary. But there is no life, as there is no repentance, no link with Christ formed by the Holy Spirit through receiving the word.

When the Holy Spirit was given, the line was drawn between what was real and what was not. Not all who are baptized prove to be real, but the Spirit is given only to those who are… Simon submitted to all this; nevertheless, when the test came, reality was not found in him.

Simon confessed the Lord, and Philip baptized him. I have no doubt Philip thought he had caught a great fish, and would have brought him into the assembly of believers. But the Lord had His eye on His assembly, on His dear servant, and on this daring sinner. So through Peter He brings out Simon's real state.

Simon Magus is like a buoy fixed by the hand of God over a sunken rock, to keep passing ships away from it. He is a solemn warning to all false professors. Learn this lesson: neither baptism nor making a profession of Christ can save you. He was baptized, he professed to follow Christ, and he sought entrance into God's assembly. He was clearly not saved then, and whether he ever was saved is doubtful. Nothing will do but real possession of Christ.

"Samaria had received the word of God" — I think that is a beautiful phrase. The Jews had been trying hard to make them receive the law, but it had been a complete failure. That was the reason why "Jews have no dealings with Samaritans." What the law failed to do, the sovereign grace of God accomplished. The whole city received the word. "And there was great joy in that city." It was one of the triumphs of grace.

This shows that independence between congregations is as far as possible from the will of God. There was no holding aloof on the part of the leaders in Jerusalem, though we hear of no request for their intervention from the Samaritans. The apostles felt as members of the one body of Christ for the fresh objects of divine grace.

They did not give way to natural prejudice. They did not denounce Philip as irregular in what he was doing. They did not seize on the absence of the gift of the Spirit as a reason for discounting the whole work at Samaria, or even disowning it altogether. They bowed to the sovereign grace of God. From their own number they chose two who ranked among the very chief of the apostles — Peter and John.

Here, as it appears to me, is why divine wisdom led to this striking difference at Samaria. The need was to prevent that independence to which even Christians are so liable. Samaria was especially open to this evil, so it called for a much greater guard. How painful it must be to the Spirit of God if the old pride of Samaria were to rise up against Jerusalem! God would cut off the very appearance of this. His Spirit acted freely toward Samaria without the apostles, yet the Holy Spirit was given through the laying on of their hands. That solemn act was not only an old sign of divine blessing, but of identification too.

The Spirit did not fall on them at once, as on the company in Caesarea in Acts 10:44. Instead the Samaritans waited for this blessing until Jerusalem spoke through Peter and John. God openly showed that the Church, whether planted in this city or in that, is one. … The choice of instruments, too, was remarkable. Peter was the conservative Jew, who had always judged it unlawful to visit or keep company with a man of another nation (Acts 10:28). John was the son of thunder, who once asked his Lord whether he should command fire to come down from heaven and consume the Samaritans.

God so ordered it that the Holy Spirit should not at first be given to the disciples at Samaria. I do not mean only to men like Simon, or to false believers, but even to those who were true. They could not have believed the gospel without the quickening work of the Holy Spirit. But we must distinguish between the Holy Spirit giving life and God giving the Holy Spirit Himself.

To a thoughtful believer it will be plain that the reasons for this do not hold at the present time. I say this only in case anyone concludes that men commissioned by God must now lay on hands to give such a spiritual blessing.

Now, to receive the Holy Spirit is to be indwelt by Him (Rom. 8:9), and so such people are no longer in the flesh but in the Spirit, and their bodies become His temples (1 Cor. 6:19). Does the term "receiving the Holy Spirit" mean simply divine power coming on people? Old Testament saints had known that, but of none of them do we read that they received the Holy Spirit. Was it a supply of spiritual gifts, such as tongues, miracles, and so on? Some who had received the Spirit could share in these, and at times did. But in truth it was far more. What they received was the Holy Spirit.

From such a fact we gather the clear distinction between the gift of the Holy Spirit and His working. It is that working which enables a soul to repent and to believe the gospel. There is no question that most of the Samaritan converts were real believers. Simon was not. Even so, the Holy Spirit had not yet fallen on any of them.

How, then, were they to share in all the fullness of blessing, and the display of it, along with their brothers in Judea? They must receive the Holy Spirit before becoming instruments for the display of His power. The apostles therefore prayed, not that He should fall on them, but that they might receive the Holy Spirit.

With the Samaritans, things did not follow the order Peter set out in Acts 2:38. God arranged this, we believe, for a special reason. Jerusalem and Samaria had a religious rivalry, as John 4 shows. So there must have been a strong pull to carry this old prejudice into the new conditions. That would have meant a Samaritan church independent of a Jerusalem church, if not in rivalry with it. Any practical expression of the "one body" would then have been in danger, before God had even revealed the truth of it. As things were, they only received the Spirit when Peter and John came down and laid hands on them. That step linked the apostles and the church in Jerusalem with these new believers in Samaria. This preserved the oneness of the church.

Samaria was the last place a Jew would go to preach, so great was the jealousy about it. And there is no jealousy so bitter as religious jealousy… But God had not yet given the Holy Spirit. The reason was that He had determined to set His seal on the work in the most striking way. Those at Jerusalem might have said, We cannot vouch for this work. Who sent Philip there? … But Peter and John go down to Samaria in clear recognition of the work.

To a thoughtful believer it will be plain that the reasons for this do not hold at the present time. I say this only in case someone concludes from it that men commissioned by God must lay on hands now to give such a spiritual blessing.

In all other recorded cases, God gave the Spirit without laying on of hands. At the first preaching to the Gentiles, God gave the Spirit the moment they believed, but in every other case as a separate event after belief. The usage of the epistles shows that the first preaching to the Gentiles gave the pattern meant to be permanent. The rest were exceptional events, for special reasons tied to the start of the new faith. But here in Ephesians 1:13 is the most definite passage on the subject. They were sealed with the Holy Spirit "on believing".

It was not simply an absence of the signs that then followed those who believed. It was not only that the gifts failed, but the "Gift." Signs of the Spirit normally showed that the Spirit was present. Here they were missing. And God had not given the far greater Gift — the Spirit Himself.

Believers they were. Children of God they had become. Saved souls they certainly were. But they had not yet shared in belonging to Christ (Rom. 8:9), or in being members of His body (1 Cor. 12:13). These spiritual blessings depended on receiving the Holy Spirit. Peter and John prayed for that. Then they laid their hands on the disciples, and they received the Holy Spirit. So we see that people may be believers and yet not be what Scripture calls sealed (Eph. 1:13) — that is, not yet partakers of the gift of the Holy Spirit. But God does not want to leave anyone in that condition.

The Samaritan believers were saints then, and children of God, but God had not yet given them the Spirit. The Old Testament saints did not have it either. They were born of the Spirit, yet never received that great gift. It could not come until redemption. Then God sent out the Spirit of His Son into hearts already renewed, crying, Abba, Father.

His name is the expression of what He Himself is. He was called Jesus, because He would save His people from their sins. Philip preached "concerning the name of Jesus Christ" — that is, he preached Christ, the truth of what He is. The Samaritans believed, and were "baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus." They identified themselves with that truth he had declared.

There had been religious rivalry between Jerusalem and Samaria, as John 4 shows. So there must have been a strong pull to carry that old prejudice into the new conditions. It would have meant a Samaritan church independent of a Jerusalem church, if not in rivalry with it. Any practical expression of the "one body" would have been put at risk before the truth of it had even been revealed. As it was, they received the Spirit only when Peter and John had come down and laid hands on them. This formally identified the apostles and the church in Jerusalem with these new believers in Samaria. The oneness of the church was preserved.

The difference between the working of the Spirit and the sealing of the Spirit is very clear. The Samaritans had believed and been baptized, but had not received the Holy Spirit. He had worked by the word in their hearts. Men and women were converted, born again, and had confessed the name of Jesus. But they were not yet sealed. Then it belonged in a special way to the apostles to lay on hands and confer the gift of the Spirit.

The gift was given in three different ways in the early days. First, the Spirit was poured out on the whole company at Pentecost. Second, many saints, probably most, received the gift of the Spirit by the hearing of faith (Gal. 3:2), believing the gospel of their salvation (Eph. 1:13). Third, others — and these Samaritans were in this last group — received the Holy Spirit by the laying on of the hands of apostles.

Believers they were. Children of God they had become. Saved souls they certainly were. But in belonging to Christ (Rom. 8:9), and in being members of His body (1 Cor. 12:13), they had not yet shared. These spiritual blessings depended on receiving the Holy Spirit... So we see plainly that people may be believers and yet not be what Scripture calls sealed (Eph. 1:13) — that is, not partakers of the gift of the Holy Spirit. But God does not want to leave anyone in that condition.

And what could be more fitting in servants of Christ when they came down? They "prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit." God had so far withheld this, the great and characteristic privilege of the Christian. But the apostles in Jerusalem were moving in the current of His will and ways. Peter and John were there. They saw what was lacking and spread it out before God. They did not doubt. They counted on His faithfulness to make good the promise of the Spirit.

Jerusalem and Samaria had long been religious rivals, as John 4 shows. So there must have been a strong pull to carry that old prejudice into the new conditions. It would have meant a Samaritan church standing apart from the Jerusalem church, if not in rivalry with it. Any practical expression of the "one body" would then have been put at risk, even before God had revealed the truth of it. Instead, they received the Spirit only when Peter and John came down and laid hands on them. That act tied the apostles and the church in Jerusalem to these new believers in Samaria. So the church stayed one.

The person who laid hands on another declared by that act his oneness and sympathy with him... Peter and John acted for the Christians in Jerusalem. They expressed their oneness with the new group of believers that had sprung up in the city they had always hated and despised... In this way God showed openly that the Church is one, whether planted in this city or that... The choice of men was remarkable too. Peter was the strict, conservative Jew, who had always judged it unlawful to visit or keep company with a man of another nation (Acts 10:28). John was the son of thunder, who once asked his Lord if he should command fire to come down from heaven and burn up the Samaritans.

The Samaritans had not yet received the Holy Spirit. He came to them only after Peter and John arrived from Jerusalem and laid hands on them. This has puzzled many earnest students of the Word. It has also led to mistaken teachings, as if a person must receive the Holy Spirit in some special way after conversion... The letters to the churches unfold the great truths and blessings of salvation in Christ Jesus. Not one of them says a word about receiving the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands. Not one tells a person who has trusted Christ and is born again to seek the gift of the Spirit afterwards.

In all these cases, notice who lays on hands: the apostles, or Timothy. Timothy was an apostolic delegate, so he acted under Paul's direction and authority. That is why no one could practise it now, unless they claimed "apostolic succession." There is not even the shadow of a proof for that in the Scriptures, which in fact disprove it easily.

Something was passed on, and it was visible even to the eye of unconverted Simon. He could not see the inward communication of the Spirit of holiness, nor could Peter impart it. Simon had no wish to give sanctification to whomever he pleased. But he did want to hand on the gift of miracle, and he offered money to buy the power.

There was certainly something to be "seen." But that does not change the truth: the Spirit Himself was being given inwardly. It was not merely "gifts," still less only what men call the miraculous gifts of the Spirit… But why should God not give the Spirit this way if He pleased? It is for Him to judge His own best methods. At Pentecost God gave the Spirit without the laying on of hands. Now He was pleased to honour the apostles as the channel.

There had been religious rivalry between Jerusalem and Samaria… So the Samaritans received the Spirit only when Peter and John came down and laid hands on them. That formally tied the apostles and the church in Jerusalem to these new believers in Samaria. The oneness of the church was preserved.

When the Holy Spirit was given, the line was drawn between what was real and what was not. Not everyone baptized proves to be real, but the Spirit is only given to those who are. So at Samaria the baptized Simon was left without the Holy Spirit… He would never have said, "Give me also this power," if he already had it. Nor did he understand it, as his offer of money proves.

The sorcerer looked on in amazement, watching the apostles' power displayed in giving the Holy Spirit. He knew well how people regarded anyone who claimed supernatural powers. He knew, too, what profit he had made by dazzling the crowds with his sorceries. If only he could have the power Peter and John had shown, what money he would make! … The power to give the Spirit was what he wanted, not the blessing of receiving it. For that he did not care.

The unhappy man has given us a new word; but sadly, how many of those who call others guilty of "simony" have been openly guilty of the same sin themselves!

He betrayed his complete ignorance of God. God has revealed Himself as a giver, for it is more blessed to give than to receive. He has given His Son, and in Him eternal life to us. The Spirit too is His gift, resting on the work of Jesus. But of all this Simon knew nothing. It was power that had attracted him, and power was what he craved. He was after making himself great, not the glory of God.

As I see it, the Spirit of God here lays bare the source of Simon's faith: it was merely natural, unlike the faith of others. And so it is with all faith founded on "evidences," which the mind weighs and accepts on that basis. It may not be insincere at all. Those who believe this way may be the quickest to fight for their creed if needed. But there is no life, and no repentance, no link with Christ formed by the Holy Spirit through receiving the word.

This is the third recorded outbreak of evil inside the circle of those who had been baptized. First Ananias. Second, the complaint about the neglected widows. Third, Simon the sorcerer. In each case, notice, money was involved. In this third case we see Satan beginning to turn the pure faith of Christ into a money-making religion. In Samaria it was only a trickle, running through one man. It soon swelled into a flood.

It is a mistake to suppose that Simon wanted the gift for himself. He wished to buy the power of conferring the Holy Spirit upon others. It is very possible, however, that he may not have received the outward gift even for himself. He was certainly not sealed with the Holy Spirit, and that sealing, as we have seen, implies the new birth beforehand.

It must have been a great blow to Simon. He had once dominated the people of Samaria by his supernatural doings. Now he found a crowd holding a power that made his own dark acts look like nothing. They had the gift of the Holy Spirit, and he had been left out. He wanted to buy not only the Spirit for himself but also the power to pass Him on to others by the laying on of his hands. He no doubt felt that if such a power could be his, any money spent buying it would prove a very profitable investment.

Then we find Simon struck. What amazed him was not that one person had miraculous power, but that others received it when the apostles laid hands on them. At once, with the instinct of the flesh, he sees a good opportunity for himself. He judges other people's hearts by his own, and offers money as the way to get the power he wants. But this exposes the man. How often our words show where we are! How constantly, too, where we least think they do!

He betrayed his utter ignorance of God. God has revealed Himself as a giver, for it is more blessed to give than to receive. He has given His Son, and in Him eternal life to us. The Spirit too is His gift, founded on the work of Jesus. But of all this Simon knew nothing. It was power that had attracted him, and for power he craved. It was self-advancement he sought, not the divine glory.

Simon saw, in fact, a means of self-exaltation, and perhaps of gain as well. He certainly offered them money for it. What an insult to God! What is bought with money may naturally be sold for money. But this divine gift — was it to be a matter of trade among men?

But why should not God give the Spirit in this way if He pleased? It is for Him to judge His own best methods. God, who gave the Spirit at Pentecost without the laying on of hands, was pleased now to honour the apostles as the channel. It is a question of His wisdom as well as His sovereignty. For mere bishops to imitate the form without the power has no basis in truth, and is real presumption.

Baptism is an admirable sign where there is life and faith; without these, it is a most solemn aggravation of man's natural guilt and ruin. It is to perish with a Saviour in sight... But no heart visited by grace could have thought of offering money to get the power of giving the Holy Spirit. Simon stood self-convicted as a total stranger to God and His grace... Outward nearness to grace is of all things the most fatal to the man who is not subject to the truth of God.

This is the third time evil has risen up among those who had been baptised. First, Ananias. Second, the murmuring over the neglected widows. Third, Simon the sorcerer. In each case, notice, money was involved. In this third case we see the beginning of Satan's effort to turn the pure faith of Christ into a money-making religion. In Samaria it was only a trickling stream, flowing through one man. It soon grew into a flood.

If only he could possess that power which Peter and John had shown, what gains would he make! What a reputation he would have! So he offered them money: "Give me this power also, so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit." He wanted the power to give the Spirit, not the blessing of receiving Him. For that he did not care.

Simon saw a way to lift himself up, and perhaps to make money too. He certainly offered them money for this power. What an insult to God! What is bought with money may naturally be sold for money. But was this divine gift to become a matter of trade among men?

He showed his complete ignorance of God. God has revealed Himself as a giver, for it is more blessed to give than to receive. He has given His Son, and in Him eternal life to us. The Spirit too is His gift, founded on the work of Jesus. But Simon knew nothing of all this. It was power that had attracted him, and power was what he craved. He was after his own advancement, not the divine glory.

The great point of the passage is the personal coming of the Spirit. The power to speak in unknown tongues, the power to do miracles, and the power to preach, were only the signs and effects of the presence of the Holy Spirit. Receiving Him personally is the great thing in Acts 2. The gift itself is infinitely greater than any effect it could produce.

Simon's words betrayed his ruin. He was, as yet, a lost man. There was no real faith, and so no salvation in his case. Baptism is an excellent sign where there is life and faith; without these, it is a most solemn aggravation of man's natural guilt and ruin. It is to perish with a Saviour in sight, with sin and God's judgment slighted as well as the Saviour... Outward nearness to grace is of all things the most fatal to the man who is not subject to the truth of God.

Though he had been baptised, he had no spiritual life in his soul. He had never known conversion. He had never shared in the new birth. He was on the road to perishing, unless he was forgiven for that thought of his heart. Real believers will never perish. Simon was not yet in that group, and so not yet beyond that danger.

In this third case we see the beginning of the satanic attempt to turn the pure faith of Christ into a money-making religion. In Samaria it was only a trickling stream, flowing through one man. It soon grew into a flood, sweeping immense riches to Rome.

Money cannot secure the blessing; if it could, only the rich could claim it, and poor people would go without for ever. But God has made His salvation free; it is an absolute gift from Him to all who receive it... There are two reasons why God will not sell His blessing: first, men are far too poor to buy it; second, God is far too rich to sell it.

Simon's one desire is to have the power to give others the ability to work miracles and signs by laying his hands on them. He wanted to buy it with money, showing by that very wish that there was no work of God in his soul. He had "neither part nor lot in this matter." He was in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity. His heart was not right before God. His sin stirred Peter's indignation, not his pity.

Simon had no share or lot in this matter, for his heart was not right before God. In my judgment this does not mean he lacked a share in the sign-gifts, but in the Saviour: the gospel meant nothing to him. If the word of truth had reached him, faith would have purified his heart, for the grace of God is able to save the worst of sinners.

He wanted the power to give the Spirit, not the blessing of receiving it. For that he did not care. Peter's answer was instant, crushing and decided. It refused the request and defined Simon's true moral condition. Baptized though he had been, he had no spiritual life in his soul. He had never known conversion. He had never shared in the new birth.

Simon believed, as we have read. Clearly it was intellectual faith without any real work of conscience. His heart was still not right with God. Who that knew he shared in God's grace could have asked for what he did?

Simon the sorcerer believed and was baptized. I have no doubt Philip thought he had caught a big fish that day... But then Peter came down, bringing more spiritual power and perception. His judgment about Simon was, "You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God." Peter acted as a doorkeeper that day and kept Simon out. Be thankful if you see souls converted, but do not try to pitchfork them into the assembly.

Simon Magus is like a buoy, fixed over a sunken rock by the hand of God, to keep passing ships away from it. He is a solemn warning to every false professor. To all such I would say, learn this lesson — neither baptism nor making a profession of Christ can save you. He was baptized, he professed to follow Christ, and he sought entrance into God's assembly. That he was not saved then is clear; that he ever was saved is doubtful. Nothing will do but truly having Christ.

It is certain that there is grace in God and power in the blood of Christ to meet any wickedness of man. Peter would never have urged him this way if pardon had been impossible. But Simon's reply shows clearly that he was alarmed only for the moment. He had no sense in his soul of his shameless sin against God, and above all against the Holy Spirit.

When the Lord said, "Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish," it was not believing a free gospel, but judging themselves and their sins with a heart turned to God… In passages such as Acts 8:22, we have "repent of this wickedness of yours." This is clear proof that repentance does not mean believing. It is not a change of mind about God either, for he was to repent of something he had done. So in Revelation 2:21, "repent of her sexual immorality." So in 2 Corinthians 12:21, about the Corinthians' sins.

In verse 22 Peter held out a ray of hope for Simon. He might repent, and therefore forgiveness for him was still a possibility. Notice how Peter calls the very thought of his heart wickedness, without any reference to his words. This illustrates the statement that "the devising of folly is sin." He was still in bondage to money, so he was still in the bond of iniquity and bitterness.

There may be more wickedness in a sin of the heart than of the hand… Peter puts the stress of Simon's sin on the wicked thought. His words showed that this thought was in his heart: "pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you."

The passage becomes a call to repentance. That is the universal appeal in the testimony of John the Baptist, of Christ, and of His apostles. Here the appeal presses on one particular point. That point ought to weigh on the conscience of the man addressed, and it called him in a special way to look to God for forgiveness. When a conscience is truly touched and the soul brought to forgiveness, it will always judge itself clearly for its own particular sins.

That there is grace in God and power in the blood of Christ to meet any wickedness of man is certain. Peter would never have urged him like this if pardon had been impossible… Peter did not say "Beseech God" but "the Lord." In Him and by Him alone can God deliver a guilty soul. Now that He has sent His Son, the only sure and adequate way of honouring the Father is to honour the Son.

Possibly he might be forgiven if he bowed to God; it does not shut him out from hope; that is all.

But no sign of repentance appeared; only fear of the consequences of his sin… He was in no mood to pray for himself, but he wanted others to pray for him. No one can hold such a position. Knowing nothing of the Lord for himself, Simon would hang on Peter's intercession. But this could do nothing for him, nor can it do anything for us. Each soul must have to do with God for itself. The intervention of even an apostle is absolutely worthless as a substitute for this.

The Greek word for "gall" (chole) appears in Matthew 27:34, and the word for "bitterness" (pikria) in Romans 3:14; Ephesians 4:31; Hebrews 12:15. The translation in Acts 8:23 is literal, except that it should be "a gall of bitterness." Peter saw that Simon was still in the state of nature, which is only bitterness.

Acts 8:23 says Simon was "into a gall of bitterness" — the Greek word is eis, not en. "In" (en) would have been a mere state. Here there was will, and the bent of his own mind. "Given up to" would not express it. That would imply another possession by it, possibly a final one. But his mind was gone that way: "your heart is gone into the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity."

Baptism is an excellent sign where there is life and faith. Without these, it only makes man's natural guilt and ruin worse, in the most solemn way. It is to perish with a Saviour in sight, with sin and God's judgment slighted as well as the Saviour. Being outwardly near to grace is the most fatal thing of all for someone who is not subject to the truth of God.

Simon Magus is like a buoy, fixed to a sunken rock by the hand of God, to keep passing ships off it. He is a solemn warning to all false professors. To all such I would say: learn this lesson — that neither baptism nor making a profession of Christ can save you. He was baptized, professed to follow Christ, and sought a place among God's people. It is clear he was not saved then; whether he was ever saved is doubtful. Nothing will do but the real possession of Christ.

Being still in bondage to money, he was still in the bond of iniquity and bitterness. The love of money is "a root of all kinds of evils" — that is, of every kind of evil. So a large part of the bitterness that fills the earth springs from it.

Peter judged Simon the Samaritan by his own words — and this, though a baptized man — to be in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity. There was certainly no lack of love in that. It was the painful side, but in the circumstances absolutely necessary. It belongs to that judgment of love which the knowledge of God lays on His servants. Woe to those who give up so plain and undeniable a duty to their Master, just to please the world or for selfish ease and advantage.

That there is grace in God and efficacy in the blood of Christ to meet any wickedness of man is certain. Peter would never have urged him like this if pardon were impossible. But Simon's answer shows that he was only alarmed for the moment. He had no sense in his soul of his shameless sin against God, and above all against the Holy Spirit. He was not counting on grace in God at all.

Simon's answer to the apostle shows that, though alarmed, there is no repentance with him. He asks that they would pray to the Lord that nothing of the things they have spoken may come upon him. He is alarmed about what may come, and that is all. He shows no awareness of his great inward need, and no confession that we read of. Like the demons, he believes and trembles, but he does not turn to God on his own account. And so he passes out of the inspired history. There is a legend about him which says he went back to his old arts as a magician, but with a settled hatred of what he had turned from. Yet there is nothing certain beyond what is written here.

And when Simon hears these solemn words, what does he do? Fall on his knees and cry to God for mercy? No; he would have his praying done by proxy, like thousands in Christendom today. "Pray for me to the Lord," is his answer. You pray for me, Peter, he says. I do not hear that Peter did pray for him, and we hear no more of him. I fear he had a great opportunity of salvation, and missed it. Do not imitate him!

There was confidence, if we can put it that way, in the channels of power. The man who had no faith in Christ confesses his faith in Peter. Millions since have done the same with saints, angels, or the virgin Mary. This, however, is not really faith but credulity and superstition. It has no ground, either in the nature of the persons or in the word of God. Faith in the Lord Jesus alone has a divine resting-place… He dreaded what was coming. He did not feel his present state of ruin and guilt.

He was in no mood to pray for himself, but he would be prayed for. Such a position cannot be held by anyone. Knowing nothing of the Lord for himself, Simon would hang on Peter's intercession. But this could do nothing for him, nor can it do anything for us. Each soul must have to do with God for itself. The intervention of even an apostle is absolutely worthless as a substitute for this.

Our correspondent has left out a very important part of the verse. "Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you." The passage then becomes a call to repentance. This is the universal appeal found in the testimony of John the Baptist, of Christ, and of His apostles. It simply applies that appeal to one particular point, which ought to press on the conscience of the person addressed… When a conscience is truly affected and the soul brought to forgiveness, it will always judge itself distinctly for its own proper and peculiar sins.

"Pray for me," said Jeroboam in alarm. Sadly, the unhappy man had never learned to pray for himself. In this he reminds us of Pharaoh in Exodus 8:8, and Simon the sorcerer in Acts 8:24. He had felt the power of God at work, and it should have led Jeroboam to repentance. But flesh learns nothing. He felt the consequences of his sin, but not the evil of it.

In the third the delegates from the assembly in Jerusalem preach the word of the Lord to the young converts in Samaria. This is more specific. It points to the claims of the Lord over His people. It was more in the way of instruction and counsel, putting the believing soul more clearly under the authority of Christ as Lord — a most important ministry. So it is called the "word of the Lord."

It was not a passing act, as the common text has it, but a continuous work. Their hearts were toward the Lord. He had created in them a right and eager spirit, and they needed no urging to spread the good news of His redemption among small and great. The villages of the Samaritans, and many of them, were not beneath the detailed and repeated labours of the apostles.

In the fourth they preached the gospel in many villages of the Samaritans. There these delegates came face to face with the Samaritans. They met all their ignorance, their religious distance, and their glaring sins. What could they do? They had been eyewitnesses of the power of the gospel as preached in the city of Samaria, and what met the need of the city would surely meet the need of the villages.

How changed were the people of that province and that sect! Once the Lord was travelling toward Jerusalem and entered one of their villages. He had to leave it, because they would not receive Him: His face was set toward the mother-city, Jerusalem (Luke 9:53). Now Peter and John, who had been with Him that day, met no coldness. No one in the Samaritan villages turned them away, though they were going up to Jerusalem. Samaria was receiving the word of God. When the Spirit really works, prejudices of ages melt away.

John had grown so close to the Lord that the very people he was once willing to call down fire from heaven upon he now evangelized.

The apostles help the work along in Samaria with their own testimony, and they evangelize many other villages. But we have no record of how their labours succeeded. Their visit to Samaria confirms the work, and it establishes fellowship between Samaria and what has been the headquarters of the Jewish work. A great step forward has clearly been taken.

Their presence there was doubtless necessary. It would help and cheer the assembly in that city, which was still passing through great persecution. And further, God was about to bring a new kind of work, and a new kind of worker, into the scene of His operations.

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.