Persecution first broke out against the Greek-speaking Jewish Christians associated with Stephen, not primarily against the Hebrew-speaking believers or the apostles. This explains why the apostles remained in Jerusalem while others were scattered (Acts 8:1). The Hellenistic Jewish Christians became the chief targets of persecution. Among them was Philip—not Philip the apostle, but Philip the deacon, one of the seven appointed in Acts 6.
This persecution became the very means by which the gospel spread. As Acts 11:19 records, the outbreak of persecution became the occasion for missionary expansion. Philip left Judea and traveled to Samaria, fulfilling the Lord’s purpose that the gospel would go beyond Jerusalem.
Acts 8:5 introduces Philip as one of the seven servants of the church. His ministry was twofold: preaching Christ and performing miracles. Though he was not an apostle, he was remarkably gifted by God to perform signs and wonders. In this way, Philip continued the ministry of Christ Himself.
“Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed to them the Christ” (Acts 8:5).
Verses 6–7 describe unclean spirits being cast out, the paralyzed being healed, and great joy filling the city. Yet it is important to note that the Samaritans were ultimately captured more by the preaching of the gospel than by the miracles. The miracles supported the message, but the gospel itself was the supreme power. Signs and wonders were never the center—they confirmed the truth of Christ.
One man, however, was especially captivated by the miraculous displays: Simon the magician.
Simon Magus is introduced as a man full of pride and self-exaltation.
“He boasted that he was someone great” (Acts 8:9).
Pride and the craving for power often go together. A proud man desires control over others, and Simon exercised that control through sorcery. Through magical arts he amazed the people of Samaria, so much so that they said:
“This man is the power of God that is called Great” (Acts 8:10).
Verse 11 tells us that for a long time he had amazed them with his magic. The Latin Vulgate uses language from which we derive the idea of “magus,” a magician or sorcerer.
But when Simon saw Philip’s miracles and the greater power of the gospel, he himself professed belief and was baptized (v. 13). Yet Luke later reveals that something was deeply wrong in Simon’s heart.
He was astonished by the miracles, but not transformed by grace.
When Peter and John arrived and laid hands on the Samaritan believers so that they received the Holy Spirit, Simon saw something he wanted.
“Give me this power also, so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit” (Acts 8:19).
He even offered money to obtain this spiritual power.
This was Simon’s great sin: he wanted the power of the Holy Spirit so that he could continue in his magical influence and personal domination over the people. His interest was not repentance, holiness, or Christ—it was power, prestige, and control.
This became the source of the term simony, the medieval church practice of buying and selling ecclesiastical offices or spiritual privileges. To purchase spiritual authority with money is called simony because of Simon Magus.
Whether called white magic or black magic, all sorcery seeks power apart from God.
There is a striking contrast here between Simon Peter and Simon Magus.
Simon Magus sought power for self-glory.
Simon Peter exercised authority for Christ’s glory.
When the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent Peter and John (Acts 8:14). Their presence was crucial. The visible unity of the church required apostolic confirmation, especially since the Samaritans were historically separated from the Jews.
The Samaritans had believed and were baptized in water, but they had not yet received the Holy Spirit in this extraordinary apostolic manner. This was not a second baptism, nor were they re-baptized.
This event was unique in redemptive history and connected to the foundational apostolic ministry. Water baptism had already occurred. The later reception of the Spirit publicly demonstrated that Samaritans were now fully incorporated into the one church of Christ.
Acts 2 gives us the normative pattern—conversion, Spirit reception, and baptism closely joined together. In Acts 10, the Spirit falls before water baptism. Here in Acts 8, the order is reversed. These are not contradictions but sovereign variations serving God’s redemptive purpose.
As the Westminster Confession of Faith teaches (Chapter 28), the efficacy of baptism is not tied to the exact moment of administration.
Peter responds to Simon with one of the strongest rebukes in the New Testament:
“May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money!” (Acts 8:20)
This is severe language—but it is also grace.
The very word of judgment was itself a word of mercy. Peter’s goal was not destruction, but repentance. Like John the Baptist crying, “You brood of vipers,” strong warnings are often the most loving words a sinner can hear.
If a man in a burning building shouts, “Fire! Get out!” his urgency may sound harsh, but it is the best news possible.
Peter continues:
“Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord” (Acts 8:22)
Peter is not declaring final condemnation. He is calling Simon to repentance. God alone forgives, but Peter faithfully warns.
Verse 13 says Simon believed and was baptized. This raises the difficult question: was Simon ever truly converted?
The text does not tell us plainly. He may have tasted the grace of God outwardly without possessing true saving faith inwardly. His faith may have been temporary, superficial, and rooted in fascination rather than regeneration.
As Charles Spurgeon noted of Simon:
“He believed, it is said, and was baptized; but his heart was not right in the sight of God: His faith was not the faith of God’s elect.”
We are not told whether Simon truly repented. Scripture leaves the question open.
In every genuine revival, there are imposters like Simon Magus.
Even in the earliest church, when believers had all things in common and walked in their first love, hypocrisy entered through Ananias and Sapphira. They pretended devotion while secretly loving money, and Peter pronounced immediate judgment upon them.
So early were the liar and the hypocrite found within the gates of Zion.
Likewise in Samaria, Philip’s preaching stirred the city, and Simon the sorcerer made a profession of faith. He was baptized and outwardly joined the church, yet his heart was not right before God.
Judas walked with Christ.
Simon was baptized.
Ananias stood among believers.
External religion is no proof of true conversion.
A man may be received into the visible church and still remain spiritually dead.
Simon believed because of signs and wonders, not because he loved Christ. He sought fleshly gain, not forgiveness. He wanted the Holy Spirit as a tool for personal advancement.
That is not saving faith.
The sin of Simon Magus reappeared with devastating force in the medieval church.
Simony became the widespread practice of selling ecclesiastical offices. Men purchased bishoprics, priesthoods, and church authority with money rather than receiving them through calling and qualification.
Unqualified men bought spiritual office.
From the ninth to the eleventh century, simony infected nearly every level of church life—from local clergy to the papacy itself. At the time of the Reformation, corruption was especially visible in the sale of indulgences and relics.
Spiritual things were treated as merchandise.
But the Holy Spirit cannot be bought.
Grace cannot be purchased.
Salvation cannot be earned.
“The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23)
The Holy Spirit is not obtained by money, ceremonies, status, or religious manipulation. He is the free gift of God through Jesus Christ alone.
Simon Magus stands as a warning to the church.
A man may admire miracles, love religion, seek spiritual power, and even receive baptism—yet still remain lost.
The true test is not outward profession, but the condition of the heart before God.
Do we want Christ Himself—or merely what Christ can give us?
Do we seek repentance—or religious power?
Do we love the Savior—or only the benefits of salvation?
Simon wanted power.
Peter called him to repentance.
That same call remains today.
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