We are furnished, in Acts 8, with a very vivid and instructive contrast between the magician of Samaria and the eunuch of Ethiopia. Let us contemplate these two characters for a few moments and seek to bear away some wholesome instruction.
The passage opens with a record of Philip's preaching in Samaria. "Then Philip went down to the city of Samaria, and preached Christ unto them." Blessed theme!—the only one for the true preacher! "And the people with one accord gave heed unto those things which Philip spake, hearing and seeing the miracles which he did.... And there was great joy in that city." Thus it must ever be. When Christ is preached, and people give heed and receive the tidings, "great joy" must be the result. The business of the preacher is to preach Christ; the business of the people is to give heed and believe. Nothing can be simpler.
But alas! all this brightness was speedily overcast with the dark clouds which self-seeking is ever sure to produce. It was all simple and happy, fresh and bright, while Christ was exalted, and souls were blessed by the knowledge of salvation. "But there was a certain man, called Simon, which beforetime in the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the people of Samaria, giving out that himself was some great one." Here then was something quite different—something which the inspired historian might well introduce with a "But." In place of the herald of salvation exalting Christ, it was a poor worm exalting himself; and instead of people made happy by the truth, it was a people bewitched with sorcery.
Simon gave out that himself was some great one, and the popular voice was in favor of his pretensions. "To whom they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest, saying, This man is the great power of God." It generally happens that those who put forth the loftiest claims are sure to get a high place in the thoughts of men. It does not matter how slender the basis of such claims may be; the multitude never thinks much about foundations—about what is beneath the surface or behind the scenes. Their thoughts are superficial. They are easily deceived by a pretentious style. The swaggering and boastful make way in the crowd; whereas the humble, the unpretending, the modest and retiring, are consigned by the men of this world to obscurity and oblivion. Hence the Blessed One who emptied Himself, and made Himself of no reputation, had not where to lay His head, was deliberately given up for a robber and a murderer, and nailed to an ignominious cross between two thieves.
But Simon the magician gave out that himself was some great one, and the pompous claims of this self-important individual were readily admitted by a credulous multitude. "To him they had regard." Why? Was it because he sought to benefit them by the strenuous efforts of a large-hearted benevolence, or to elevate them by the resources of a commanding genius? Not at all. What then? "Because that of long time he had bewitched them with sorceries." Such is man—such is the world.
However, the tide was turned in Samaria by the introduction of the gospel. "But when they believed Philip preaching the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. Then Simon himself believed also: and when he was baptized, he continued with Philip, and wondered, beholding the miracles and signs which were done."
Now be it noted here that we do not raise the question as to whether Simon was really a converted man, or only a hypocritical professor. We can learn a most practical and seasonable lesson from his history without ever touching that question. Simon was a self-seeker from first to last. His object was to exalt Simon. At first he made use of magic for the attainment of his end; and when the tide of Christian profession rose and carried away the pedestal on which he had raised himself, he embraced the new thing. He placed himself on the bosom of the tide, not as one seeking rest for a broken heart and convicted conscience, but as one seeking to be something.
It is evident from the inspired narratives that Simon was more occupied with the wonders and signs by which the gospel was accompanied and confirmed, than by the consolations which the gospel was designed to impart. It was not in his case a heart filled with peace by the grace of the gospel, but a mind filled with wonder by the miracles that were done. He "wondered, beholding the miracles and signs which were done." It was on these he fixed his wondering gaze. The things which were designed to call the attention of the heart to Christ were looked at by Simon as things whereby self might be exalted. In this way Christianity might furnish materials for a more solid pedestal for self than even the magic and sorcery in which he had formerly traded.
All this comes out more clearly when the Holy Ghost appears upon the scene. "Now when the apostles which were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John: who, when they were come down, prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Ghost: (for as yet He was fallen upon none of them: only they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus.) Then laid they their hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost. And when Simon saw that through laying on of the apostles' hands the Holy Ghost was given, he offered them money, saying, Give me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands, he may receive the Holy Ghost. But Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money. Thou hast neither part nor lot in this matter: for thy heart is not right in the sight of God. Repent therefore of this thy wickedness, and pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee. For I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity."
What a deeply solemn picture! What a holy lesson! Self-seeking must ever lead to bitterness. It matters not whether it be exemplified in the case of a converted or an unconverted person. Everyone who seeks to exalt self—to be somebody—to figure before the eye of his fellow, must, sooner or later, reap bitterness and gall. It cannot be otherwise. We may set it down as a fixed principle that in proportion as self is our object will bitterness be the result. Had Simon found his object in the Christ whom Philip preached, he never would have been called to hearken to Peter's appalling words. His heart would then have been "right in the sight of God." It is only when Christ is really the object that the heart is right in the sight of God; but so thoroughly wrong was Simon—so completely away from God, and from Christ, and from the Holy Ghost—that when exhorted by the Apostle to pray to God if perhaps the thought of his heart might be forgiven, "Then answered Simon, and said, Pray ye to the Lord for me, that none of these things which ye have spoken come upon me." Instead of confessing his sin, he asks others to pray that he might not be called to suffer its consequences.
Here the curtain drops upon Simon. May the lesson conveyed in his history be engraved on our hearts! May the Lord, in His great mercy, give us full deliverance from self-seeking, and fill our hearts with the love of His name!
We shall now turn and gaze upon a totally different picture. "And the angel of the Lord spake unto Philip, saying, Arise, and go toward the south, unto the way that goeth down from Jerusalem unto Gaza, which is desert. And he arose and went: and, behold, a man of Ethiopia, a eunuch of great authority under Candace queen of the Ethiopians, who had the charge of all her treasure, and had come to Jerusalem for to worship, was returning, and sitting in his chariot read Esaias the prophet."
Here the contrast strikes us at once. Instead of a sorcerer, on the strength of his magic and witchcraft, giving out that himself was some great one, we have a man of real authority, rank, weight, and dignity, looking away from himself and his position, to find the object of his worship and adoration. He was one of the great ones and had no need to give himself out as such; but instead of being occupied with himself or his greatness, his soul was thirsting after something above and beyond himself and all around. He had gone from Ethiopia to Jerusalem to worship and was returning, still evidently unsatisfied.
All this is intensely interesting. We are glad to get away from the self-seeking Simon, to be in company with the Christ-seeking eunuch. It is truly refreshing to look at that earnest, solitary man, poring over the prophetic page in search of an object for his heart. We may feel assured it was a sight in which heaven was interested. An angel was dispatched to Samaria, in order to summon the evangelist from the stirring scenes of service there, and send him into the solitudes of the desert Gaza, to address himself to a single individual. How remarkable that two such men as Simon and the eunuch should be placed in juxtaposition by the inspired penman! They form a contrast throughout. Philip found the one bewitching the people with sorcery, and giving out that himself was some great one. He found the other earnestly engaged in the study of the Word of God. He found the one amid all the bustle and throng of the city, figuring before the world, and endeavoring to make capital for himself out of anything and everything. He found the other in the solitude of the desert, returning from worshiping at Jerusalem to his proper sphere of duty in. Ethiopia. Thus far, they were perfect opposites.
But let us pursue the narrative of this interesting and highly favored Ethiopian. It might seem strange to Philip to be called away from such a brilliant field of service in Samaria, where such crowds flocked to hear, into a desert where he could hardly expect to meet anyone. To whom was he to preach there? Nature might reason thus; but Philip did as he was told, and he was not left long in ignorance as to his work. "Then the Spirit said unto Philip, Go near, and join thyself to this chariot. And Philip ran thither." How simple! How sweetly servant-like! It is all the same to a right-minded servant whether he is sent to a city or to a desert, to a crowd or to a single individual. The Master's will settles everything. Would that we knew more of this! Would that we tasted more of the deep and real blessedness of doing our appointed work under the immediate eye of our Lord, totally regardless as to the sphere and character of that work. We may be called to stand before assembled thousands, or to make our way in obscurity from lane to lane, to deliver the message in crowded halls, or to drop a word into the ear of some poor dying creature in the ward of a hospital. It would be quite the same to us, were we only gifted with the true spirit of a servant. The Lord grant us more of this!
"Philip ran thither to him, and heard him read the prophet Esaias, and said, Understandest thou what thou readest? And he said, How can I, except some man should guide me? And he desired Philip that he would come up and sit with him." The Lord knows how and when to make the preacher and hearer cross each other's path, and when they meet, a link is formed which never can be broken. There were those in Jerusalem who could have poured the glad tidings into the eunuch's ear; but God so ordered it that Philip was to enjoy the privilege of conducting this stranger to the feet of Jesus, and by His gracious providence they met amid the solitude of the desert of Gaza.
And only note the passage of Scripture on which the eunuch's eye was resting when Philip accosted him. "The place of the Scripture which he read was this, He was led as a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb dumb before His shearer, so opened He not His mouth: in His humiliation His judgment was taken away: and who shall declare His generation? for His life is taken from the earth. And the eunuch answered Philip, and said, I pray thee, of whom speaketh the prophet this? of himself, or of some other man? Then Philip opened his mouth, and began at the same scripture, and preached unto him Jesus."
Here was the profoundly interesting question. Who was this mysterious "He"? Blessed inquiry! The eunuch did not ask Philip to expound the text. Ah! no; he longed for something far deeper than this. He wanted to know something about this wondrous Person who was led as a sheep to the slaughter. This was all he asked. Who could this Person be? It was Jesus. Happy eunuch! He had at length reached his object. He had gazed on the precious page of inspiration and found there the record of "the Lamb of God" led to the cursed tree, and bruised under the righteous hand of a sin-hating God. And for whom? Why, for him—for any poor burdened one who would only come and trust the shelter of His atoning blood. Such was the glorious object presented to the eye and the heart of this earnest Ethiopian. The grand foundation truth of the gospel—the doctrine of the blood, of a sin-bearing Christ broke with divine fullness and power upon his soul. There was no astounding miracle or sign—nothing outward to add authority to the truth proclaimed. There was no need. The word came with power. The ground was good and duly prepared for the precious seed. The eunuch's earnest seeking had issued in a joyful finding. The sinner and the Savior had met-faith linked them together, and all was settled.
"And as they went on their way, they came unto a certain water: and the eunuch said, See, here is water; what doth hinder me to be baptized?... And he commanded the chariot to stand still: and they went down both into the water, both Philip and the eunuch; and he baptized him. And when they were come up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip, that the eunuch saw him no more: and he went on his way rejoicing."
Thus then we see how that from first to last the eunuch of Ethiopia stands in most striking contrast with the magician of Samaria. And no doubt these two men represent two great classes; namely, those who are occupied with self, and those who are occupied with Christ. Simon's object was self, and his end "bitterness." The eunuch's object was Jesus, and his end "rejoicing."