The Changed Man of Influence (Changed #1)

Back in the early 2000s I was told that Christianity was growing fastest in two places in the world. One was South America — which excited me, because my wife and I had spent a couple of years working in Venezuela. The other was China.

I sat in on a missions class where the figure given was that a hundred and fifty thousand Chinese people were putting their faith in Jesus every single day. Think about that. Two Kinnick Stadiums full of people, every day, coming to believe that Jesus died on a cross for their sins and rose again. Absolutely staggering.

Over the last decade or so that map has shifted. South America is still growing, though not at the rate it once was; that kind of explosive growth has moved to Africa. China continues to grow, but the surge has spread across the rest of Asia — particularly India and Indonesia. In some places Christianity is growing at double the rate of general population growth.

Whenever those numbers come up, there are naysayers who say, “Of course it’s growing there. Religion always grows among the poor and uneducated.”

Let’s set aside for a moment how offensive that sentence is, and look at what they roll out as evidence: the educated West. America and Europe, once the powerhouses of Christendom, now post remarkably low rates of religious adherence and attendance.

And the data on that part is real. Average religious attendance — and this counts everything, churches, mosques, synagogues — runs about 25 percent in America and about 14 percent across Europe. Iowa sits right in the middle of the American range at 23 percent. Interestingly, the highest rate anywhere in that whole comparison is Poland, at 44 percent.

Which means roughly 75 percent of our fellow Iowans aren’t participating in any religious observance today. That doesn’t mean none of them hold private beliefs. It means they don’t see enough value in it to show up.

Growth rates tell the same story. Christianity is growing at about 0.27 percent in America and 0.06 percent in Europe. Anything under one percent isn’t even keeping pace with population growth — so even though people are coming to faith, and children are being born into Christian homes and counted, the church is losing ground relative to the population. Meanwhile Asia is at roughly 1.5 percent and Africa at 2.77 percent. Those are revival numbers.

So there it is, the argument goes: religion is for the poor and uneducated. Once you learn some science, some philosophy, some logic, the whole concept of God becomes untenable, and you withdraw. This stuff is for the simple of mind and the small of wallet.

Except the Data Says the Opposite

Just ten days ago, the religion researcher Ryan Burge published findings that break that narrative completely.

For the last fifteen years running, the higher your level of education, the more likely you are to attend church. The lowest attendance rates are among people with no high school diploma. Rates of atheism are highest among those without a diploma. The more educated you are, the more likely you are to participate in religious life.

And if you shift the lens from education to income, it isn’t the poor who attend most. It’s the middle class. Both ends of the income scale are the thinnest; the middle is the most active.

The narrative simply doesn’t hold.

Now, if you’re into statistics and cultural trends, you’re fascinated. If you’re a normal person, you’re wondering why I brought charts to a Bible study.

Here’s why. We’re returning to the book of Acts, and picking up at chapter 8, where we’re going to meet three people whose lives were changed by the gospel. And what we’re going to discover is that they don’t fit the narrative either.

This gospel is not just for poor people — it’s for the rich. It’s not just for the marginalized — it’s for the influential. It’s not just for the uneducated — it’s for those who have studied deeply and grown in mind.

In other words, this gospel is for anyone, and it can change anyone.

And I won’t pretend I don’t have an agenda. My agenda is that you would realize this gospel can change you, and it can change the people around you. So we’re doing a short series inside Acts called Changed.

Meet Philip

Today’s main character is a very rich, very influential man. But to understand his story, we need to understand one of the other people in it.

Acts 8:4:

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.

When we paused this series back in June, we had just finished chapter 7 with Stephen’s story.

We first met Stephen in chapter 6. There was a problem in the young church: certain widows weren’t being included in the food distribution. People had been giving generously so the church could care for widows who had no one else to provide for them — and racial discrimination crept in. Widows of Hebrew descent were being fed; widows of Greek descent were not.

The apostles said this was intolerable — all people matter to God — and asked the church to nominate men to oversee it. The first one named was Stephen.

And Stephen turned out to be far more than an excellent administrator. He was powerful in the Spirit, out in the community proclaiming the resurrection of Jesus, with signs and wonders confirming what he taught. Up to that point, that phrase had been attached only to the apostles. Stephen is the first non-apostle we see performing miracles that back up his teaching about the resurrection.

You can trace the escalation through Acts. In chapter 3, the religious leaders verbally threaten Peter and John and let them go. In chapter 5, apostles are arrested and physically beaten — and they still won’t stop. Now Stephen is out preaching to everyone, and the leaders’ frustration boils over. They fabricate charges, arrest him, and put him on trial.

His defense, which fills chapter 7, is essentially a retelling of the history of the Jewish people. And by doing that he’s saying: I am one of you. I’m a fellow Jew. So if I can see that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah, why can’t you — the religious leaders who know these Scriptures?

He’s the one on trial, and he has the audacity to put the questions to them. And he will not drop this outrageous claim that a man rose from the dead.

So they don’t merely threaten him as in chapter 4, or beat him as in chapter 5. They drag him outside, pick up stones, and execute him.

And the dam bursts. All that pent-up rage crashes down on the church, and chapter 8 verse 1 tells us the believers were scattered.

What Scattered People Do

So as we come back to Acts, we get to find out what those scattered people did. Did they hide in caves? Enter some first-century witness protection program?

Verse 4: “Now those who were scattered went about preaching the word.”

Consider how insane that is. Talking about the resurrection of Jesus is what got them into this in the first place. And they cannot keep quiet. They’re fleeing for their lives, and as they arrive in new communities the conversation goes: I’m running from Jerusalem because people tried to kill me for believing Jesus rose from the dead. Have you heard about this?

But Luke doesn’t want that to stay abstract. So he takes us along with one specific man.

We met Philip alongside Stephen — the next man named among those deacons. And like Stephen, he was far more than a warehouse manager. He was out in the community preaching this gospel. So when persecution broke out, he fled too.

Notice where he went: a city in the region of Samaria.

Samaria was the region of outcasts — half Jewish, half Gentile. Most Jewish people excluded them entirely, so they developed their own culture, taking some of the Jewish Scriptures and reshaping them. The Jews didn’t like them.

And yet that’s precisely where God wanted Philip.

Back in week two of this series we heard Jesus give the mandate in Acts 1:8: “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.”

Chapter 2 fulfilled the first part. But by the time we reach Stephen’s martyrdom, the witness has only really reached Jerusalem and a bit of Judea. We shouldn’t be too hard on them — all of this is happening within weeks or months of the resurrection. They aren’t being unfaithful. But the mandate was clear: this news is not meant to stay here. It was done for all people. It has to go, even to Samaria.

And look at what actually moves it there.

Throughout Acts we’ve watched pressure come at the church from outside — the religious leadership — and from inside, when a couple tried to lie to the apostles to buy influence, or when discrimination crept into the widows’ food. Satan has been using every one of those to kill and thwart and stop the church. And now he tries again, through the murder of Stephen.

And the very thing intended to destroy the church is exactly what God uses to expand it. People flee for their lives, Philip among them, and the gospel travels with them. God gives him the ability to cast out demons and heal, so people can see there’s truth in what he’s saying.

And verse 8 says there was much joy in that city.

To the Desert

Now an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Rise and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” This is a desert place. And he rose and went. And there was an Ethiopian, a eunuch, a court official of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who was in charge of all her treasure. He had come to Jerusalem to worship and was returning, seated in his chariot, and he was reading the prophet Isaiah.

And the Spirit said to Philip, “Go over and join this chariot.” So Philip ran to him and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet and asked, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And he said, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.

Sit with what this moment must have felt like for Philip.

He’s been ministering in Samaria — we don’t know if it’s been days, weeks, or months — and extraordinary things are happening. Demons cast out. People healed. People believing. A church is forming. This is revival, the same thing he experienced with the early church in Jerusalem, now spreading to people the Jews had written off, proving that God loves them and is for them.

And God says: go to the desert.

Maybe Philip simply said, “All right, I’ll go.” But I wouldn’t be surprised if he stopped and said, Wait — where? God, there are people here. Surely I could keep working. Or send me to another Samaritan city. Or somewhere impressive, like Rome or Greece. But the desert? There’s nobody in the desert. This makes no sense.

He goes anyway. And out there he sees a chariot approaching, and senses God saying: run.

Three Clues About the Man

We never learn this man’s name, but Luke gives us several critical details.

First, he’s called an Ethiopian. He’s almost certainly not from modern-day Ethiopia. The text says he served the court of Candace — and Candace isn’t a personal name. It’s an honorific title, like Pharaoh. This is the Nubian kingdom, located south of Egypt, which today would be Sudan. He has traveled an enormous distance. By calling him an Ethiopian, Luke is signaling to his readers that this is a Black man who has come a very long way.

Second, he’s a eunuch. Kids, if you don’t know what that means, ask your parents afterward. Men were castrated for various reasons in the ancient world — some so they’d have no family and could give undivided service, some so they could be soldiers no one would miss, some because they worked in close proximity to a king’s household and women.

But this man isn’t a household attendant. He is the queen’s treasurer. This is not a second-class citizen. This is the top of the org chart — a man of influence, power, and money.

And if you want proof, look at the chariot. In that world, the primary mode of transportation was your feet. Upper-middle-class people might own a donkey. Only the Bill Gates of the ancient world had a chariot. And notice he isn’t even driving it — someone does that for him. This is a limousine.

Third, he’s highly educated. We know because he’s reading. And he has a native language back home, but what he’s reading is the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. He’s fluent enough in Greek to read it comfortably.

You might wonder why he’s reading aloud. It isn’t that he’s sounding out words. In the ancient world nobody was trained to read silently — reading meant reading aloud.

Which is exactly what God used, so that Philip could come alongside and hear him.

The Passage He Was Reading

Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb before its shearer is silent, so he opens not his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth.

In Philip’s day there were no chapter divisions. You and I have Bibles where someone has helpfully added chapters and verses so we can find things. So we can say this comes from Isaiah 53:7–8.

If you aren’t familiar with the Old Testament, make a note on your phone to go read Isaiah 53 today. Read it thinking about Jesus dying on a cross, and notice how frighteningly precise it is about the crucifixion. Then realize it was written something like six hundred years before those events happened.

This highly educated man can read it. He just doesn’t understand it.

Verse 34: “About whom, I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?”

And Philip takes that opening and explains that the lamb in that passage is Jesus — the Lamb of God who stood silent before His accusers and was slaughtered on a cross. He almost certainly walked him through the rest of Isaiah 53 too: that this man died for the transgressions of the people, that He was pierced for our sins.

And if you read to the end of Isaiah 53, you find that the one who died for the people’s sins is somehow alive at the end of the chapter.

Which is exactly what had happened in Jerusalem a few months before this conversation.

Now put yourself in the chariot. You have traveled for weeks to Jerusalem to worship God. On the way home, a man runs up alongside you. You happen to be reading the exact prophecy of events that just occurred — events you very possibly heard about while you were in the city. He may even have been there during the uproar over Stephen days earlier. And now he’s being told: this is about Jesus.

He believes.

And as they were going along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?” And he commanded the chariot to stop, and they both went down into the water, Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him.

Baptism ties you to the gospel. It is you saying, “I identify with the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. Just as Jesus gave His life for me, I now publicly give my life to Him.” It is preaching the gospel with your body — declaring that you are not your own, that you were bought with a price, that you will die a death like His. The outward washing testifies to the inward washing the Holy Spirit has already done.

And remember where they are. A desert. What makes a desert a desert? No water. And they just happen upon a wadi.

Tradition holds that this man went home, kept following Jesus, and shared his faith. Others believed. A church formed. That church grew.

Which starts to explain why God would send Philip into the desert where there was no one. This wasn’t one man changed. It was hundreds, and eventually thousands.

Two Things to Take With You

1. The sovereignty of God.

God is in control of all of this. It isn’t coincidence. It’s a setup.

God knew this man and wanted this man, so He orchestrated every piece: Philip in the desert at that hour, the chariot arriving at that moment, the scroll open to that passage, so the questions could be answered, so he could see this was about Jesus, so he could learn those events had just occurred. I love you. I want you. Follow Me. Here’s some water — let’s be baptized.

But an hour before any of that, both men had questions. Philip: Why are You sending me to the desert? The Ethiopian: Why did I travel all that way to Jerusalem and not feel like I met You? Why am I out here in the middle of nowhere?

And it’s right in the middle of their confusion that God meets them both.

You may be in a place right now where you have no idea what’s happening. Why has God got you in that job? Why did He bring you to this town at this time? Why are you out for that sport, or not on that team? You don’t understand — and God may be orchestrating something beautiful.

Which means you have to trust Him and hold on. You don’t know when the answer comes. It may be a long while.

And notice: exactly as Satan tried to stop the church and God used it to expand the church, this may be the enemy trying to wreck your life while God turns it into something good. So hold on. This God is sovereign and He knows what is happening.

2. The draw of God.

On the surface it looks like this man is seeking God. He made the long journey to Jerusalem. Maybe he was already a proselyte; maybe he was investigating, sensing that the religion of his kingdom was missing something. He heard about Judaism and one God, and went to learn.

And on the way home he discovers that this one God is three persons, that God the Son came to earth, lived a sinless life, died a sinner’s death, and rose again to prove His love and His power.

And in that moment he realizes: this was never me seeking God. God has been drawing me.

So if you already follow Jesus, ask yourself: who around you might be open? Who’s asking questions? Who seems soft-hearted? Who does God seem to be drawing?

When you spot them, pray that God would make you their Philip. Pray that He would arrange for you to come alongside.

You may feel unqualified. Philip had no idea what that man was doing or reading. This was a powerful, wealthy, influential official who could have simply ordered him away and had it enforced. And he ran up anyway, and God did the rest.

Who might God be placing you next to — because He’s drawing them, because He loves them, because Jesus died for them?

And if you’re here and you don’t follow Jesus, then I hope today I’m your Philip. Something brought you here. God is saying: I wanted you to hear this. I love you. My Son died for you. I want you to be Mine.

Follow the lead of that man in the chariot and give Him your life. Because God wants to change you into the image of Jesus, so that you love like Jesus loved and live like Jesus lived.

The first step is to give Him everything — all your faith, all your identity, placed in Christ.