November 4, 2025

Diana Niemeyer
“When Simon saw that the Spirit was given when the apostles laid their hands on people, he offered them money to buy this power. “Let me have this power, too,” he exclaimed, “so that when I lay my hands on people, they will receive the Holy Spirit!” But Peter replied, “May your money be destroyed with you for thinking God’s gift can be bought! You can have no part in this, for your heart is not right with God. Repent of your wickedness and pray to the Lord. Perhaps he will forgive your evil thoughts, for I can see that you are full of bitter jealousy and are held captive by sin.””
Acts 8:18-22

As I read about Simon the sorcerer, I feel as though I can understand his heart. Earlier in this chapter, we see that he found his worth and identity in his magic and in the title the people gave him—“The Great One—the Power of God.”

I can relate to that. I’ve fallen into the same trap of finding my value in my abilities, in how wise others think I am, or in how well I perform. So it doesn’t surprise me that when Simon saw attention shift to the apostles and their miraculous works, he longed to be part of it. He wanted to return to the center of admiration—to be “the great one” again.

He may not have even recognized those motives, just as I have often been blind to my own pride and selfishness. Yet what’s beautiful is that even when we stumble into these ugly patterns, God’s grace still covers us. Peter rebuked Simon sharply, but that correction was an act of mercy—an invitation to repentance. Scripture doesn’t tell us what happened next with Simon, but I know that when I’m called out, the Spirit gently humbles me and leads me back to the cross.

During worship on Sunday, something in this passage connected deeply with me while we sang “Gratitude.” The lyrics go:

All my words fall short

I’ve got nothing new

How could I express all my gratitude?

I could sing these songs

As I often do

But every song must end

And You never do.

So I’ll throw up my hands

And praise You again and again.

’Cause all that I have is a hallelujah—

And I know it’s not much,

But I’ve nothing else fit for a King.

All that I have is a hallelujah.

Those words reminded me: we cannot buy God’s love, His gifts, or His wisdom. Our worth doesn’t come from what we own, how much we know, or what we can do—it comes from being His children.

Our salvation is free for us, but it cost Jesus everything. He paid with His life on the cross. So we praise—not to earn anything, but out of gratitude, knowing we could never repay Him. And in that place of humble worship, everything else we need is added according to His good and perfect will.