Amazed Ain't Saved

Acts 8:5-25

Good morning, church. If you have your Bible, go ahead and turn with me to Acts chapter 8.

One of the quickest ways to discover that you're not in control is to bring a puppy into your house. We brought Lady into the Chambers home this year. She's a mini cockapoo with two different colored eyes, which makes her look sweet and innocent. That look is propaganda. A puppy can weigh about as much as a large study Bible and still take over the house like her name is on the deed.

I can make a plan. Blair can bring assistant-principal-level organization to the plan. Lady is unimpressed by both of us. Dr. Ian Malcolm said in Jurassic Park, "Life finds a way." If you own a puppy, chaos finds a way too.

We like control. We want to know where we're going, how long it'll take, what it'll cost, and what happens when we arrive. That desire doesn't stay at home. We carry it into our relationship with God. We want a God we can schedule and manage. We want enough of him to help our plans, but not so much that he changes them. We want him to solve the problem, protect the family, and make life land where we intended. We want Jesus in the car, but we still want the steering wheel.

And that's bigger than a personality quirk. The first temptation in the Bible was an invitation to take what belonged to God and decide good and evil for ourselves. Ever since Genesis 3, the human heart has tried to move God out of the driver's seat. We may use nicer language than Adam and Eve did. We may even put church words around it. But beneath it is the same old desire: "I want God's help, but I want my rule."

Acts 8 is going to confront that in us. The people persecuting the church think they can control the gospel by scattering Christians. Simon thinks he can control people through magic. Then, after seeing the work of the Holy Spirit, he thinks he can control the power of God with money. Everybody in the passage is asking, in one form or another, "Who has the power?"

Luke's answer isn't subtle. The risen Jesus has the power. His gospel will go where he said it would go. His Spirit will be given to the people he chooses to save. Opposition can't stop his grace, prejudice can't fence it in, and money can't purchase it. Acts 8 will encourage us, but if we listen honestly, it'll examine us too.

Let us hear the Word of the Lord. Acts 8, beginning in verse 4.

Scripture Reading

"Now those who were scattered went about preaching the word. Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed to them the Christ. And the crowds with one accord paid attention to what was being said by Philip, when they heard him and saw the signs that he did. For unclean spirits, crying out with a loud voice, came out of many who had them, and many who were paralyzed or lame were healed. So there was much joy in that city.

"But there was a man named Simon, who had previously practiced magic in the city and amazed the people of Samaria, saying that he himself was somebody great. They all paid attention to him, from the least to the greatest, saying, 'This man is the power of God that is called Great.' And they paid attention to him because for a long time he had amazed them with his magic. But 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. Even Simon himself believed, and after being baptized he continued with Philip. And seeing signs and great miracles performed, he was amazed.

"Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent to them Peter and John, who came down and prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for he had not yet fallen on any of them, but they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit.

"Now when Simon saw that the Spirit was given through the laying on of the apostles' hands, he offered them money, saying, 'Give me this power also, so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit.' But Peter said to him, 'May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money! You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God. Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity.' And Simon answered, 'Pray for me to the Lord, that nothing of what you have said may come upon me.'

"Now when they had testified and spoken the word of the Lord, they returned to Jerusalem, preaching the gospel to many villages of the Samaritans."

This is the Word of the Lord. Let us pray.

Father, open our eyes to see Christ clearly. Expose whatever in us is false, selfish, fearful, or proud. Give us joy in your grace, courage in our witness, love for the people we have kept at a distance, and hearts fully surrendered to Jesus. Speak through your Word today. In Jesus' name, amen.

Before we walk through these verses, remember where we are. Stephen has just been murdered for preaching Christ. Acts 8:1 says that a great persecution arose against the church in Jerusalem. Saul was entering house after house, dragging off men and women, and putting them in prison. Families were separated. Homes were abandoned. Believers ran for their lives.

Then verse 4 says, "Now those who were scattered went about preaching the word."

Saul thinks he's putting out a fire, but all he does is scatter burning embers across the map. He wants fewer Christians preaching in Jerusalem. Instead, he gets Christians preaching all over Judea and Samaria. That brings us to the first truth.

Truth One The Gospel Turns Scattering into Sending

Look again at verse 4. Luke doesn't say the apostles went about preaching. In fact, verse 1 tells us they remained in Jerusalem. Luke says, "those who were scattered" preached the word. Ordinary believers carried the gospel wherever they went.

The word translated "preaching" here isn't limited to standing behind a pulpit. It means announcing good news. These believers talked about Jesus as they went. They carried the gospel that gave them hope into homes, conversations, and new communities.

Jesus had already told them this would happen. In Acts 1:8 he said, "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth." By Acts 8 they had done a fine job staying in Jerusalem. They had grown. They had organized ministry. They had cared for widows. Thousands had believed. Jerusalem had become familiar.

Then persecution came, and the church moved into the next line of Jesus' promise.

They didn't choose this road. They had to decide what faithfulness looked like on it. Gandalf says in The Fellowship of the Ring, "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." These believers used the road and the time they were given to speak about Jesus. They carried grief and uncertainty out of Jerusalem, but they also carried the gospel.

Please hear me carefully. Luke isn't calling persecution good. Stephen's murder was evil. Dragging mothers and fathers from their homes was evil. God doesn't ask us to pretend pain is pleasant or put a smiley face on suffering before we've even had time to grieve.

What Luke shows us is that evil doesn't get the final word. The enemies of Jesus made real choices for which they were responsible, but they weren't powerful enough to cancel God's plan. Joseph told the brothers who sold him, "You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (Genesis 50:20). Their intention was evil. God's purpose was saving. He overruled their sin without approving it.

Paul wrote Philippians from prison. He didn't call the chains comfortable, but he said they had "really served to advance the gospel" (Philippians 1:12). Tom Petty sang, "I won't back down." These believers didn't, but their confidence was bigger than stubborn courage. Rome could chain Paul, but "the word of God is not bound" (2 Timothy 2:9).

Some of you have lived through a scattering. A job ended. A relationship broke. A diagnosis rearranged the calendar. The future you pictured isn't the one sitting in front of you. I'm not going to insult your pain with a quick answer. I will tell you this: the Lord is present, the gospel is true, and wherever you are, you're still his witness.

The question is not only, "How do I get back to the life I had?" A faithful question is, "Who has God placed in front of me here?" Who is in this office, this waiting room, this neighborhood, this season, or this classroom who might never have crossed my path if my plans had worked exactly as I designed them?

Jesus used this pattern before Acts. In Mark 5, after he delivered a man who had lived among the tombs, that man wanted to get in the boat and travel with him. Jesus told him, "Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you." He didn't send the man to seminary first. He sent him home with a testimony about mercy. The people who knew his old story became the first people to hear what Jesus had done.

Verse 5 gives us one believer by name: Philip. This isn't Philip the apostle. He's the Philip introduced in Acts 6, one of the seven Spirit-filled men chosen to care for overlooked widows. He was faithful in a practical assignment, and now he's preaching Christ in Samaria. Acts 21:8 will call him "Philip the evangelist."

I love that progression. Philip didn't say, "I only handle the food ministry. Evangelism is somebody else's department." He didn't need a new title before he could tell somebody about Jesus. He served where he was needed, and wherever he went, he carried the gospel.

That's the mission of the whole church. I'm grateful for deacons, missionaries, teachers, and evangelists. But if Cedar Bay thinks gospel ministry belongs only to people holding microphones, we'll reach only those who sit within range of our sound system.

Most gospel conversations won't begin under stage lights. They'll begin across a kitchen table, beside a hospital bed, in a truck at lunch, or over the cup of coffee you forgot you made.

You don't need every answer before you speak about the Savior you know. Keep learning and handle Scripture carefully. Don't pretend certainty you don't have. But you can explain who Jesus is, what sin has done, what Christ accomplished on the cross, that he rose, and how he changed you.

I teach the Bible for a living, and I can turn one question into a forty-seven-minute class before I realize what happened. My students could testify to that. But a gospel conversation doesn't have to become a lecture. Listen to the person. Ask a real question. Open the Bible. Tell the truth plainly. You aren't responsible for changing the heart. The Holy Spirit does that. You're responsible to be faithful with the good news you've received.

Verse 5 says Philip "proclaimed to them the Christ." He didn't offer vague spiritual encouragement or five principles for becoming a more impressive Samaritan. He preached the Messiah, the crucified and risen King.

The signs in verses 6 and 7 served that message. Unclean spirits came out. The paralyzed and lame were healed. These were remarkable signs at a decisive moment in the church's expansion. They confirmed that Philip's message about Jesus carried God's authority. They also gave a preview of Christ's kingdom, where evil will be defeated and broken bodies will be made whole.

Acts records what God did through Philip. It doesn't give every church a technique for miracles on demand. God still heals, and we pray because he's able. But the signs are never the gospel. Verse 6 ties what the people saw to what Philip said. The miracles pointed beyond Philip to Christ.

Then verse 8 says, "So there was much joy in that city."

Not much excitement around Philip's brand. Not much buzz about the newest religious celebrity. Much joy in the city. Jesus was being proclaimed, spiritual bondage was being broken, suffering people were being helped, and Samaritans were discovering that the mercy of God had come near to them.

That's what I want for us. When we serve families through our partnerships with San Mateo Elementary and Harbour Point Preparatory, care for our neighbors, and pray for the hurting, I want our service to open honest doors for the reason we're here. We love people, and we tell them about Jesus.

But notice how that happens. It isn't one pastor doing everything. It's scattered believers preaching wherever they go. The church gathers on Sunday and is sent all week. When the benediction is given, ministry hasn't ended. It has spread out.

So where has God placed you? Who knows you're a Christian but has never heard you explain the gospel? Who have you prayed for but never spoken to? You don't need a spotlight. You need the gospel, a person in front of you, and enough love to open your mouth.

What looked like scattering was actually sending. Opposition may move the church, but it can't silence the Word.

Truth Two The Gospel Makes Outsiders Family

Verse 5 says Philip went to Samaria. We can read that too quickly because Samaria is simply a place on our Bible map. To the first Jewish believers, Samaria carried centuries of tension.

The Samaritans had a contested ancestry tied to the former northern kingdom of Israel and the peoples resettled there after the Assyrian conquest. They recognized their own form of the Pentateuch and worshiped at Mount Gerizim rather than Jerusalem. Jews and Samaritans disagreed about history, worship, and who truly belonged to God's people. John 4:9 puts the relationship plainly: "Jews have no dealings with Samaritans."

Samaria wasn't simply the town they preferred not to visit. It was more like a family feud that had lasted so long every new generation inherited the anger before it understood the argument. This hostility was ethnic, religious, historical, and often bitter.

Jesus had already crossed this line and prepared his disciples to do the same. In John 4 he spoke with a Samaritan woman, exposed her sin without treating her as disposable, and told her plainly he was the Messiah. He later made a Samaritan the faithful neighbor in one parable, and a Samaritan was the only healed leper who returned to give thanks.

Jesus kept putting grace where respectable people thought it didn't belong.

Now Philip follows his Lord into Samaria, and the Samaritans believe the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ. Men and women are baptized. Word reaches Jerusalem that Samaria has "received the word of God," and the apostles send Peter and John.

Now, watch John. In Luke 9, a Samaritan village refused to receive Jesus. James and John asked, "Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?" Jesus rebuked them.

The same John now walks back into Samaria. He isn't asking for fire to fall in judgment. He's praying for the Holy Spirit to fall upon Samaritan believers. Then he preaches the gospel in Samaritan villages on the way home.

That's what grace does. It changes the people being welcomed and the people doing the welcoming. The man who once wanted Samaritans consumed now wants Samaritan villages converted.

Don't hurry past what happened in John. He didn't become less serious about truth. He became more like Jesus. The gospel confronted his prejudice and changed the way he saw people he had been taught to distrust. That's a real test of spiritual growth. Are there people we once wanted God to straighten out from a distance whom we now love enough to approach with the gospel?

Some of us want God to save our enemies in theory, as long as he does it somewhere else and doesn't ask us to sit beside them at church. We love saying the gospel is for everyone. Then an actual "everyone" walks through the door, and suddenly we discover footnotes.

We draw lines around race, background, politics, addiction, and reputation. We may never say, "That person can't be saved." We just stop praying, stop inviting, and keep our distance.

But the gospel keeps crossing our lines.

Think about what we're seeing. A Jewish believer preaches Christ to Samaritans. Samaritan men and women confess the Jewish Messiah as King. Peter and John arrive from Jerusalem and find God building one people out of those who had spent generations distrusting one another.

Verses 14 through 17 raise an important question. The Samaritans have believed and been baptized, yet Luke says the Holy Spirit had not yet fallen on them. Peter and John pray, lay their hands on them, and they receive the Spirit. Why the delay?

The best explanation is that Acts is describing a unique moment in the history of redemption. The gospel is crossing the first major boundary beyond Jerusalem and Judea into Samaria, exactly as Jesus promised in Acts 1:8. Given the old hostility, God makes the apostles witnesses that Samaritan believers receive the same Holy Spirit and belong to the same church.

This isn't a normal two-step plan of salvation in which someone trusts Jesus, remains without the Spirit, and later becomes a higher-level Christian through the right person's hands. Romans 8:9 says, "Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him." Ephesians 1 says believers are "sealed with the promised Holy Spirit," and 1 Corinthians 12:13 says, "in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body."

Acts doesn't repeat one mechanical sequence at every frontier. Here the Samaritans receive the Spirit after baptism. In Acts 10, the Spirit falls on Gentiles before water baptism. In this pivotal Samaritan transition, God authenticates the gospel's advance through the apostles' witness. Peter and John don't own the Spirit. They pray, and God gives. There won't be a first-class Jewish church and a second-class Samaritan church. There is one Lord, one gospel, one Spirit, and one family.

The apostles can return to Jerusalem and say, "We were there. We saw God give the Samaritans the same Spirit. They are our brothers and sisters." God isn't starting a rival church across an old religious border. He's showing the original witnesses that the promise of Jesus is unfolding exactly as he said. Samaria isn't an embarrassing branch on the family tree.

Luke doesn't tell us what observable manifestation Simon saw. We should say what Scripture says and stop where it stops. The point is that God himself testified that Samaritan believers belonged to Christ.

Cedar Bay, if God has welcomed someone through faith in Jesus, we don't get to leave them standing at the edge of the family. The church isn't a country club for people with matching stories. It's a blood-bought family of sinners saved by the same grace.

That doesn't make truth optional. Philip preached Christ. The Samaritans received the Word. Gospel unity isn't built by pretending doctrine doesn't matter. It's built when people from different backgrounds believe the same gospel, confess the same Lord, receive the same Spirit, and learn to love one another as family.

We should ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions. Who would surprise us if they walked the aisle? Whose baptism would make us whisper, "Are we sure about that one?" What kind of person do we assume would never fit here? Who is our Samaria?

Maybe it's the neighbor whose political signs make your eye twitch, the family that doesn't know church language, the young person with more questions than you have patience for, the addict, the skeptic, or the person who wounded you.

The gospel doesn't say every relationship will become easy or every boundary is meaningless. Wisdom and safety still matter. Forgiveness doesn't erase every earthly consequence. But no category of person is outside Jesus' saving reach.

Don't give up praying for the person who seems beyond reach. The very next chapter will show Jesus stopping and saving Saul, the man currently dragging Christians to prison. Jesus was already on the road to meet him.

And don't forget that you were once the outsider. Ephesians 2 says we were separated from Christ, without hope and without God in the world. "But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ" (Ephesians 2:13). We came through the cross.

That's why pride makes no sense in the church. We're adopted children welcoming other adopted children. Jesus is Lord of the house, and he's already told us to take the gospel to Samaria and the ends of the earth.

The apostles didn't witness what happened and simply head home. Verse 25 says they preached the gospel to many Samaritan villages as they returned to Jerusalem. New believers aren't projects or trophies. They need family who'll teach the Word and walk with them.

The gospel makes outsiders family. When God tears down an old wall, the church shouldn't quietly rebuild it.

Truth Three The Gospel Exposes the Heart That Tries to Use God

Now Luke asks us to look closely at one man in Samaria. His name is Simon.

Before Philip arrived, Simon practiced magic and amazed the city. Luke doesn't pause to explain his techniques. He tells us what Simon's ministry produced: amazement, attention, and a reputation for greatness. Scripture condemns sorcery and attempts to manipulate spiritual powers. Whatever stood behind Simon's act, he used it to put himself at the center. Verse 9 says he was "saying that he himself was somebody great," and the crowds agreed.

Then Philip comes to town, and the contrast couldn't be sharper. Simon proclaims Simon. Philip proclaims Christ. Simon builds his name. Philip preaches "the name of Jesus Christ." Paul later writes, "What we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord" (2 Corinthians 4:5). If people leave impressed with us but unclear about Jesus, we've failed.

That question belongs in every ministry. Would I be satisfied if God used me greatly and nobody remembered my name? Would I still serve if somebody else got the credit? Would I keep preaching, singing, teaching, giving, or cleaning if it never made me look important? Philip isn't building a following for Philip. He wants Samaria to see Jesus.

Verse 12 says the Samaritans believe Philip's message and are baptized. Then verse 13 surprises us: "Even Simon himself believed." He's baptized. He continues with Philip. From the outside, everything looks right.

If Simon filled out a connection card, every box would be checked. Believed. Baptized. Attending. Following the recognized teacher. He's close to the action and fascinated by what he sees.

But Luke gives us a warning in the wording. The people had been "amazed" by Simon's magic. Now Simon is "amazed" by Philip's signs and miracles. The object changed, but the appetite may not have. He's still captivated by power.

We need to handle that carefully. The text says Simon believed, and we shouldn't pretend it doesn't. But the Bible sometimes uses belief language for a response that falls short of saving trust. John 2 says many believed when they saw Jesus' signs, "but Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them" because he knew what was in man. James 2:19 warns that demons have a kind of belief and shudder.

There is a kind of belief that recognizes facts without surrendering the heart. You can admire Jesus' teaching, be moved by worship, and be fascinated by miracles while still refusing to bow before Christ as Lord.

Being amazed by Jesus is not the same as being transformed by Jesus.

Two things are true. Nobody is beyond grace. Jesus can save a sorcerer, and in the next chapter he'll save a persecutor. Don't confuse "unlikely" with "unreachable." But an outward response doesn't remove the need for self-examination. Our assurance rests in Christ's finished work, not sinless performance. Still, we can't place our confidence in a ritual, a date written in a Bible, or words once repeated while our heart remains set against Jesus' rule.

Baptism matters. It publicly pictures our union with Christ in his death, burial, and resurrection. Earlier this year, I had the privilege of baptizing my son, Judah. But there was nothing magical in the water. His baptism confessed the grace of Jesus received by faith. Simon warns us that baptism by itself isn't proof of a changed heart. The question isn't merely, "Have I been baptized?" It's, "Have I repented and trusted the crucified and risen Jesus as Lord?"

The condition of Simon's heart becomes visible in verses 18 and 19. When he sees that the Spirit is given through the laying on of the apostles' hands, he offers them money and says, "Give me this power also."

Simon talks as though the Holy Spirit were a force to possess. But the Holy Spirit isn't spiritual electricity. He is God, the third person of the Trinity. In Acts 5, lying to the Holy Spirit is described as lying to God. Throughout Scripture the Spirit speaks, leads, gives gifts, convicts, comforts, and can be grieved. He isn't an impersonal power Simon can store in his hands. He is the sovereign Lord who gives according to his will.

Simon doesn't ask how to know God or serve these believers. He appears to treat the Holy Spirit like another power he can add to his old way of life. Peter makes the point plainly: you can't buy grace, the Holy Spirit, forgiveness, or a place in God's kingdom.

We may never offer an apostle cash, but we can still think like Simon. We turn obedience into an invoice: "Lord, I've done my part. Now secure my plans and give me the outcome I want." That's not surrender. It's a contract we wrote and expected God to sign. We can even try to use prayer to force our will on God, or baptize ambition by calling it ministry impact.

Simon wanted God's power without God's rule. He wanted the gift while keeping himself great. He wanted Jesus added to his act instead of Jesus ruling his life.

That's why Peter's response is so severe. Verse 20 says, "May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money!"

Peter isn't being harsh for the sake of being harsh. Simon's offer reveals a deadly misunderstanding of grace. He thinks God can be managed, the Spirit can be owned, and ministry power can be purchased.

Peter continues, "You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God." The deepest problem isn't the money in Simon's hand. It's his heart. We can learn the vocabulary, carry the right Bible, serve, and know when to say amen. God sees beneath all of it.

Peter says Simon is in "the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity." That's Old Testament language for poisonous idolatry and slavery to sin, not a grouchy mood. The man who wants power is himself bound. Sin advertises freedom and delivers chains.

Peter's rebuke is severe, but it's mercy. He tells Simon the truth while there's time to respond: "Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord." The phrase "if possible" doesn't deny God's willingness to forgive a truly repentant sinner. It refuses to presume upon grace and stresses Simon's danger. Repentance turns the whole person from sin to God. It gets down from the throne and confesses that Jesus belongs there.

Simon answers, "Pray for me to the Lord, that nothing of what you have said may come upon me." Notice what he says and doesn't say. Peter told him to pray. Simon asks Peter to pray. Peter confronted his heart. Simon speaks about avoiding the consequences.

I can pray for you, and I will. Your family can pray for you. This church can surround you and ask God to work in you. But nobody can repent in your place. Nobody can trust Christ in your place. Simon tries to hand Peter the response Peter told him to make. At some point, you have to stop hiding behind somebody else's faith and deal honestly with God.

Maybe this is the beginning of repentance. Maybe it's only fear. Luke doesn't tell us how Simon's story ends, and we shouldn't pretend we know. The unresolved ending turns the question toward us. What will we do when the Word exposes our heart?

There's a sorrow that wants consequences removed, and there's godly grief that produces repentance. David prayed, "Create in me a clean heart, O God" (Psalm 51:10). Do you want forgiveness, or only relief? Do you want Jesus, or only what he might give you? Do you want God's will, or only God's signature beneath yours? God knows the heart.

Now here is the good news. God's gift can't be bought because Jesus has already paid the price.

Peter tells Simon that silver can't obtain God's gift. Years later he writes, "You were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ" (1 Peter 1:18-19).

Money, morality, attendance, family name, influence, and service can't buy grace. But Jesus paid what we never could. He lived the righteous life we haven't lived, bore our judgment on the cross, was buried, and rose on the third day. Ephesians 2:8-9 says salvation is "the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast." We come with empty hands.

Simon wanted to control what only God could give. The gospel calls us to trust the God who gives it.

Using Jesus says, "Give me what I want." Trusting Jesus says, "You are what I need." One recruits God as an assistant. The other bows before the King.

Some of us need to repent of obvious sin today. Others need to repent of respectable religion that has kept Jesus near enough to be useful but never allowed him to rule. We've attended, served, sung, and perhaps even been baptized, but beneath it we're still saying, "Help me build my life my way."

Peter's words are hard because false assurance is cruel. Yet don't conclude there's no hope. Peter commands repentance because mercy is still offered. He tells us the truth so we'll run to Christ.

The Gospel Invitation

Acts 8 brings every one of us to a decision.

Maybe you've been scattered. Life hasn't gone where you thought it would. You're asking God to put everything back, and today he's reminding you that he hasn't stopped working where you are. Your pain is real, but so is your calling. Ask him for the next faithful step and the courage to speak the Word.

Maybe God has exposed a line you've drawn around somebody else. You've decided who might believe, who would fit, and who is too far gone. Remember Samaria. Remember John. Remember Saul. Remember yourself. Pray for the person you stopped praying for, and welcome everyone God welcomes through Christ.

Maybe you're closer to Simon than you'd like to admit. You're interested in Jesus, but you've never surrendered to Jesus. You like what Christianity might do for your family or your future. You may have been baptized and know every song, but the rule of your life still belongs to you.

Don't answer that conviction by trying harder to purchase what God gives freely. You don't need to bargain. You need to repent and believe.

The gospel is this: the holy God created you and has rightful authority over you. You've sinned against him, and so have I. We've loved lesser things, broken his commands, and tried to rule lives that belong to him. The wages of sin is death, and no religious activity can erase our guilt.

God sent his Son. Jesus Christ took on flesh, lived without sin, died in the place of sinners, and rose bodily from the grave. On the cross he received the judgment his people deserved. In the resurrection he conquered death. He offers forgiveness, righteousness, the Holy Spirit, adoption into God's family, and eternal life to everyone who turns from sin and trusts in him.

You can't buy that gift. You can't earn it. You can receive it.

Repentance doesn't mean you clean yourself up before you come. If you could do that, you wouldn't need a Savior. Come honestly. Confess your sin. Stop defending it and bargaining. Stop pointing to your baptism, attendance, or comparison with somebody else. Place your faith in Jesus Christ.

And let me be clear. A prayer doesn't save you. Walking an aisle doesn't save you. Baptism doesn't save you. Jesus saves. We call on him because we trust him. We confess him because he is Lord. We're baptized because we've been united to him by faith and want to obey him publicly.

If the Lord is drawing you today, don't settle for being amazed or nearby. Don't settle for looking Christian while your heart remains your own. Come to Christ.

For those who belong to Jesus, this passage still searches us. Christians can slide into Simon-like thinking when we use ministry to make ourselves great, treat obedience as leverage, or want the Spirit's power without the Spirit's holiness. The answer isn't to question Christ's grip every time we stumble. It's the regular Christian life of confession, repentance, faith, and obedience.

Bring your ambition into the light. Bring your prejudice into the light. Bring your disappointment, control, secret sin, and bitterness into the light. The grace that saved you is still teaching you to say no to ungodliness and to live under the good rule of Jesus.

Then get up and carry the gospel with you.

I love the way Luke ends. Simon's response is unresolved, but the mission isn't. Peter and John return toward Jerusalem "preaching the gospel to many villages of the Samaritans." One man's failure doesn't stop the work.

The gospel turns scattering into sending. It makes outsiders family. It exposes the heart that tries to use God and calls that heart to repent.

Cedar Bay, the risen Jesus is still Lord. The Word isn't bound. The Spirit isn't for sale. Grace is free to us because it was costly to Christ. Receive it with empty hands, welcome the people Jesus saves, and carry his gospel wherever he sends you.

Would you bow your heads with me?

Father, thank you that your gospel cannot be stopped and that the blood of Christ brings outsiders like us near. Forgive us for trying to use you or make ourselves great through what belongs to you. Give us hearts that are right before you.

Grant repentance and faith to the person who has never trusted Christ. Give courage to the believer who has been scattered, love for the person we treated as beyond hope, and faithfulness to this church wherever you send us.

We surrender the throne. We place our lives in your hands. Make much of Jesus through us. In his name we pray, amen.