The Fall and Rise of Simon Magus

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Simon Magus is arguably the worst of the bad guys in the history of the church.¹ One of the major sins, simony, the act of buying an ecclesiastical office, is named for this magician who clashed with the apostle Peter. It gets worse. In the early Christian apocrypha, he is the common enemy who inspires the feuding factions within the earliest church to unite in opposition. According to the church fathers of the second, third and fourth centuries, Simon Magus is 26the founder of all Christian heresies, including Gnosticism, and the champion of all wrong thinking and blasphemous worship. In the 14th century, Dante deposited him head first, in a pit, in the eighth circle of Hell. Surely, a villain of this magnitude deserves our attention.

Simon Magus enters the drama of the early church’s mission in Acts 8. This is the only mention of him in the New Testament; here, his story takes part in the theological and historical program that Luke-Acts^a presents for the foundation of the church through missions that spread out from Jerusalem.

In the beginning of Acts, the resurrected Jesus appears before his disciples, who ask, “Lord, will you now restore the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus responds, “It is not yours to know the times and the seasons which the Father has set by his own authority. You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:6–8).

The disciple Philip carries the church’s mission to Samaria, where Simon is already established as a powerful figure who, according to Acts, has drawn many people to him by practicing “magic.” A self-promoter, Simon has amazed the people by telling them he is “something great” (Acts 8:9). His followers, “from the least to the greatest,” agree: “This man is the power of God which is called Great” (Acts 8:10). When Philip arrives in Samaria, he, too, attracts a crowd. As Philip performs healings and other miracles and subsequently converts and baptizes many, “There was great joy in that city” (Acts 8:8).

When Simon sees that many of his followers have been drawn to Philip’s miraculous deeds and have even been baptized, he allies himself with Philip, and receives baptism from the apostle. Simon apparently hopes that by becoming a Christian he will increase his repertoire of tricks.

The trouble begins when the apostle Peter arrives in Samaria. Peter has been sent (with the apostle John) by the Jerusalem church to bestow the power of the Holy Spirit upon those whom Philip has baptized. (Peter’s appearance further enforces Luke’s program of mission: The Holy Spirit proceeds from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.) When Simon sees Peter and John giving the power of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands, he realizes that his being baptized is not enough to achieve his purpose. So he does what an alert practitioner in his profession should do to further his career: He attempts to buy Peter and John’s “spells,” in this case, the power of the Holy Spirit: “[Simon] offered them money, saying ‘Give me also this power so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit’” (Acts 8:18–19). Peter rebukes Simon strongly, with a curse: “May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain God’s gift with money!” (Acts 8:20). Simon answers in a reasonably contrite and respectful way: “Pray for me to the Lord, that none of what you have said to me may happen to me” (Acts 8:24).

In the New Testament, Simon’s story ends here. But in the Christian apocrypha, Simon’s story is greatly expanded to include a dramatic contest between Simon and Peter that involves a talking dog and a resurrected fish, among other wonders. In the writings of the church fathers, Simon became a convenient scapegoat—a symbol of everything a Christian should not be. Today, his strange tale offers insight into the struggles that faced the church as it tried to define itself in the first centuries of the common era.

The period in which Simon’s story began to develop, the mid-first century, was “an age of anxiety,” as classical historian E.R. Dodds once suggested, quoting W.H. Auden. The replacement of the traditional city-state with an imperial form of governance—a displacement that began with Alexander the Great and continued into the Roman Empire—left the mass of folk adrift. There was, in Dodds’s words, “a progressive devaluation of the cosmos … (in other words, the progressive withdrawal of divinity from the material world).”² The majority of men and women in the Roman Empire lived in a spiritual desert. Their sense of abandonment by the powers of the cosmos gave rise to religions, such as the Gnostic religions, which attempted to account for people’s sense of not being at home in this world. In addition, mystery cults, many from the eastern part of the empire, rushed in to fill this spiritual vacuum. Many of the leaders and practitioners of these groups “practiced magic”; some were charlatans, some honest healers. What we call Christianity was, in the middle of the first century, one of these sectarian movements. Simon would have seen in Philip and Peter men akin to himself; they were 27fellow practitioners of the sacred and magic arts.

The Acts of the Apostles states that Simon “practiced magic” (Acts 8:9). Later accounts label him magus,³ a Persian title that originally identified an honored caste devoted to astrology, science, divination and the healing arts. There is no consensus among modern historians about whether anyone who practices magic is actually a magus.⁴ In the Greek world, the term gradually became more and more popularized until it referred to virtually anyone from the East—that is, the ancient Persian empire—who practiced the arts of healing and divination. At the time of the early church, magus could be a positive appellation—consider the magi of Matthew’s infancy story—or it could refer to a false practitioner, a charlatan.

Within little more than a generation from the 28writing of Acts, however, the title magus assumed demonic characteristics in Christian circles (excepting, of course, Matthew’s magi). As Christianity tried to separate its miracle workers from mere magicians, Simon’s reputation began to fall rapidly. By the mid-second century, the church father Justin Martyr had labeled him a heretic (see box). In the Christian apocrypha, he became an extraordinary magician (he even flies above Rome) and Peter’s greatest rival.

Two apocryphal acts of apostles—the Acts of Peter and the Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul—offer a blow-by-blow description of the confrontation between the Magus and Peter only hinted at in the New Testament. The Acts of Peter is a middle- to late-second-century document. The Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul is a rewriting of sections of the Acts of Peter; scholars generally date it to the fourth through sixth century.

The Acts of Peter begins with Paul in Rome, “confirming many in the faith.”⁵ But Paul is called to go to Spain to continue his mission work there, and as soon as he sets sail, Simon Magus arrives on the scene with a flourish. He flies into the city in a cloud of dust. Not surprisingly, Simon causes a great stir among the Roman congregation: “He claims to be the great power of God, doing nothing without God,” they cry out. “Is he then the Christ?” As Simon’s power increases, many of Paul’s followers begin to suspect that the good apostle was actually a sorcerer and deceiver. “And all of the great multitude which had been confirmed in the faith were led astray.” There are exceptions, however, who pray for Paul’s return. But it is Peter, not Paul, whom God calls to Rome to set things straight.

Peter, having successfully thrown Simon Magus out of Judea, accepts the charge: “I must go up to Rome to subdue the enemy and opponent of the Lord and of our brethren.”

Almost immediately after Peter arrives, he engages in the first of a series of “miracle-confrontations” with Simon Magus. It begins with one of the most storied contests in rhetoric and image. Peter sends a messenger to Simon’s house to invite him to a debate, but Simon repeatedly pretends not to be at home. So Peter sends a talking dog 29(the apostle has given him the power of speech) to issue the summons. The Magus takes this as the severe insult it is intended to be, and tells the dog, “Tell Peter I am not home.” The dog calls the Magus a “coward and a deceiver” and then returns to Peter to report that there will be a great contest between the two.

There follows a number of healings and miraculous acts performed by both men. First, Peter sees a smoked fish hanging in a window, puts it in a bath and, in the name of Jesus Christ, commands it to swim. (The fish swims so long the gathered crowd begins to throw it crumbs to eat.) Then, before a gathering of the Roman prefect Agrippa, the senators and several other dignitaries, Peter and the Magus attempt to resurrect a dead man. The Magus gets the corpse’s head to move a bit; Peter brings the body fully to life.

More than one commentator has pointed out that the story reads almost as a contest between two magicians. The only thing that “Christianizes” Peter’s marvelous acts is his invocation of Jesus Christ as he performs the miracles.

The climax of the contest is by far the most famous episode in the struggle: Simon builds a tower from which he launches himself and begins to fly around “all Rome, and the temples there and the mountains.” He claims he is “ascending to the heavens” as did Jesus, but Peter downs the Magus with a prayer to Jesus: “If you allow him to do what he has undertaken, all who believed in you shall be overthrown, and the signs and wonders, which you have shown to them through me, will not be believed. Make haste, O Lord, show your mercy and let him fall down!” Simon Magus immediately falls to the ground—only to die later from the wounds.

Simon Magus’s fall is the most popular scene from the Acts of Peter among Christian artists. The paintings include an anomalous detail, however: Paul is virtually always present, although the text of the Acts of Peter clearly states that he is out of town. The later textual tradition, recorded in the Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul, also has Paul return to Rome so that he joins Peter in the contest against Simon Magus. This 30contradiction among the texts and artworks offers a glimpse into a somewhat shadowy yet real struggle that ensued in the church’s formative years.

The controversy involves a question that Peter and Paul resolved differently: Will the church be a sect of Judaism or will it include gentiles who have not first become Jews?

Paul’s view is reflected in his Epistle to the Galatians, where he addresses the question of whether a gentile has to become a Jew—that is, be circumcised—before becoming a Christian. Paul says no: “for freedom Christ has set you free” (Galatians 5:1, and see Galatians 2–3). The question clearly raises Paul’s ire. “You stupid Galatians,” he admonishes, “who has bewitched you?” (Galatians 3:1). Paul tells the Galatians that he has quarreled with Peter over the issue (Galatians 2:11), and that Barnabas, his own companion, had sided with Peter (Galatians 2:13). In the Acts of the Apostles, Luke offers another report on the same controversy (Acts 15:6–35). Here, the reader is led to believe that the issue was settled in favor of Paul. The Jerusalem church leaders convened and encouraged Paul to continue his mission to the gentiles; circumcision remained a requirement only for Jews.

Extrabiblical sources, however, indicate that the quarreling over this issue went on for some time, and the name of Simon Magus was bandied about during the debate.

The Pseudo-Clementine writings, known as the Homilies and the Recognitions, likely dating to the fourth century, claim (fictitiously) to be the work of a successor of Peter, Pope Clement. These works consist of a romance (novel) in which Clement is separated from and then reunited with loved ones. The story is a vehicle for many speeches, debates with Simon Magus and epistles that support the Petrine position in the tension between certain hard-core Jewish Christians and those who would follow Paul. As such, they side with the Acts of Peter. They demonstrate the continuing struggle between the Pauline mission to the gentiles and the Petrine mission to the Jews. In one of the sections of the Homilies, Peter gives a speech against Simon Magus in which Simon clearly 32aricature of Paul.⁶ Peter puts forth a “history of salvation” in which he begins with Adam and leads to Christ and then, in a kind of code that would be clear to his readers, he says:

He who follows this order can discern by whom Simon (Magus), who as he first came before me to the Gentiles, was sent forth and to whom I (Peter) belong who appeared later than he did and came in upon him as light upon darkness, as knowledge upon ignorance, as healing upon sickness.⁷

Of course, the apostle to the gentiles who proceeded Peter is Paul, not Simon. To compare Paul to the ignorant arch-heretic Simon is a great insult, intended to undermine Paul’s authority and validate Peter as leader of the church.

The Acts of Peter had a similar purpose. It is no coincidence that Paul is sent away to Spain, and Peter 33was called in to deal with Simon Magus. The authors want Paul out of the way so that Peter can be the one who saves the Roman congregation (and hence the center of the emerging church) from the danger of Simon Magus’s kind of “Christianity.” Further, the document is affirming that Peter is qualified to lead the mission to the pagans in Rome. The gentile mission was not reserved for Paul.

By the mid-fourth century, the rivalry between the followers of Paul and Peter had to stop. With the legitimizing of the Christian religion under the Emperor Constantine, the various factions of the church were forced to come together. To remain viable, the church needed an obvious head of the church and a clear succession of authority. In literature and art, Peter and Paul were no longer rivals, but partners (albeit somewhat unequal ones). A fourth-century ivory belt buckle (see photo) found at the Church of Castellammare di Stabia in Italy depicts the reunion of Peter and Paul at Rome. The same scene had a strong place in a series of wall decorations at the Church of St. Paul Outside the Walls in Rome (c. 400). The image also occurs in several medieval church decorations and manuscript illuminations.

As we stated above, sometime between the fourth and sixth century, the story of Simon was rewritten to reflect this shift in attitude.⁸ In the Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul, both Peter and Paul are present at the contest against the Magus and are united against their common enemy. But here Paul plays a supporting role to Peter. In the art inspired by the Passion, Peter is usually shown taking action against Simon while Paul kneels beside him, praying for his success (see photo at beginning of article).

The difference between Peter and Simon Magus—between good and evil—is more pronounced in the Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul. Simon badmouths his opponent, calling Peter a charlatan and Peter and Paul false apostles. Simon performs wonders: a brass snake moves, stone statues laugh and Simon runs and moves in the air. Peter does good: He heals the sick, makes the blind see and raises the dead.

In the Passion, Simon lies and cheats: He goes to Emperor Nero and proclaims, “I am the son of God come down from heaven.” He claims that he can duplicate Jesus’ “trick” of rising from the dead on the third day. The Magus then pulls a plain sham: He has a ram beheaded in secret, while Nero thinks that Simon is being beheaded. Simon hides for three days and then appears with the ram’s blood on him: “Behold, having been beheaded, as I promised, I have risen on the third day.”

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At the conclusion of the story, after Simon tries to fly but falls to his death, Peter and Paul are martyred together—a tradition that begins here (in earlier texts, the martyrdoms are described separately) and lasts to this day; in the church calendar, the martyrdom of Peter and Paul is remembered on the same day (June 29).

Throughout history, the church has made good use of Simon Magus as common enemy.⁹ For the church fathers, Simon Magus was the arch-heretic (see box). In England and Ireland, Simon Magus was connected to a malevolent Druid priest named Mog Ruith. The two of them conspired to bring about the beheading of John the Baptist. In a second legend, recorded in the Venerable Bede’s Historia Ecclesiastica, the Magus is involved in a quarrel over the styles of tonsure (ritual shaving of the head) between the Celtic-Irish monks and the Benedictine monks on the continent. According to the Venerable Bede, the Irish monks were “inspired or seduced by the spirit of Simon Magus [to] adopt an erroneous tonsure in a letter from Abbot Ceolfire to Nechtan, King of the Picts.”¹⁰ As tonsure is a solemn rite in one’s joining a clerical order, this was no light accusation.

In the Islamic period, too, Simon Magus provided a convenient scapegoat. As the growth of Islam began to threaten the medieval church’s holdings in the 36rn Mediterranean area, there grew up in the church a number of anti-Muslim tractates. Books such as a very popular Vita Mahumeti connected the Prophet with Simon Magus. Among other things, Mohammed is reported to have flown through the air by the power of the demonic (and crashed) and to have tried to emulate Christ’s Resurrection.¹¹ Alberto Ferreiro, professor at Seattle Pacific University and one of our foremost experts on Simon Magus, especially as the legend continued in the Middle Ages, writes: “There existed no doubt in the minds of medieval polemicists that Muhammad was clearly in line with the doctrinal and moral error of Simon.”¹²

Today, we are left with Simon Magus, the enigma. There are, as is the case with virtually any intriguing character or phenomenon from history, more mysteries than solutions to questions about him. What the character of Simon Magus does demonstrate, beyond doubt, is that even heretics are useful to the church: They provide the anvil upon which the shape of orthodoxy can be beaten out.

Simon Magus is arguably the worst of the bad guys in the history of the church.1 One of the major sins, simony, the act of buying an ecclesiastical office, is named for this magician who clashed with the apostle Peter. It gets worse. In the early Christian apocrypha, he is the common enemy who inspires the feuding factions within the earliest church to unite in opposition. According to the church fathers of the second, third and fourth centuries, Simon Magus is 26the founder of all Christian heresies, including Gnosticism, and the champion of all wrong thinking and blasphemous worship. […]