Simon the sorceror in Acts 8 has the distinction of having a particular sin named after him, “simony.” Note to self: There are things you don’t want to be remembered for. One of them would be messing up so badly that your name is associated with a type of sin from now on.
Simon’s sin was offering money in exchange for spiritual authority. In doing so, he was seeking to circumvent the order that Jesus Christ set down for his followers in the upper room. It was there that he clothed himself like a slave and served his people, by washing their feet. He told them that anyone who desired greatness in his kingdom had to become the servant of all.
The world sees power like a WWE ladder match. The prize hangs up there, high out of reach, and the winner is the one who can climb to the top first (crushing his opponents along the way) and snatch the trophy for himself.
You want power in this world? You’ve got to figure out how to climb the ladder, and maybe throw an elbow or two in the process. Simon hoped to simply purchase his place on the top rung.
Well, we’ve come a long way. We’d all recoil from the thought of trying to trade cash for power in the kingdom of God.
Or, maybe we’ve just devised more subtle ways of doing that. Our simony doesn’t involve the transfer of funds. (That’s so medieval.) In our sophistication we’ve got smoother means of short-circuiting Christ’s requirement, of a lifetime of humble service.
People who are not servants can obtain great power within God’s churches by capitalizing on the greatness of their gifts. Modern evangelicalism has a problem with celebrities. The best preachers get the best gigs. The best singers get the biggest stages, and the most attention. Great, natural story-tellers are routinely confused with being decent Bible teachers.
You can also get to the top by the persistent application of your stubborn ambition. Some people have such forceful personalities, or charismatic charm, that they become unstoppable juggernauts in pursuit of their goals. When they do this inside our churches, they find folks eager to get out of their way.
People also use their association with great servants to leap-frog everybody to the top. Wise men who build great things are forced, by death, to hand off the fruits of their labors to younger men who haven’t put in the time or the service the old guys did. So powerful, yet humble, servants wind up giving way to those who haven’t served, and have no humility.
We also find people advancing through plain ol’ politics, where it’s not what you know but who you know. Network marketing and rubbing elbows with the elites may be a great way to keep your business going strong, but it’s the opposite of Christ’s stated requirements for kingdom greatness.
The world sees power as a ladder with rungs leading up, and a prize to be seized by anyone audacious enough to take it. Authority in Christ’s kingdom is better pictured as a set of stairs going down, with each step representing a choice to humble oneself and be a servant. This is the way of the cross.
Gordan Runyan is the pastor of Immanuel Baptist Church in Tucumcari. Contact him at: