Ephesus was reputed as a center for magic. The famous statue of Artemis, the centerpiece of her temple, was noted for the mysterious terms engraved on the crown, girdle, and feet of the image. Referred to as the “Ephesian scripts,” this magical gibberish was considered to have great power.

This was Ephesus after all, where the bizarre seems normal.

Luke himself is not content to describe these events as mere ‘miracles’, dynameis, demonstrations of divine power; he adds the adjective tychousas, which is variously translated ‘special’ (AV), ‘singular’ (NEB), ‘remarkable’ (JB) and ‘extraordinary’ (RSV, NIV). He does not regard them as typical, even for ‘miracles’.

Thirdly, the wisest attitude to the sweat-rag miracles is neither that of the sceptics who declare them spurious, nor that of the mimics, who try to copy them, like those American televangelists who offer to send to the sick handkerchiefs which they have blessed, but rather that of Bible students who remember both that Paul regarded his miracles as his apostolic credentials and that Jesus himself condescended to the timorous faith of a woman by healing her when she touched the edge of his cloak.

Fourthly, as in the Gospels so in the Acts, demon-possession is distinguished from illness, and therefore exorcism from healing.

Ancient magicians were syncretists and would borrow terms from any religion that sounded sufficiently strange to be deemed effective. These Jewish exorcists of Ephesus were only plying their trade. Paul’s “spell” in Jesus’ name seemed effective for him, so they gave it a try. (The New American Commentary: Acts [Nashville: Broadman, 1992], 403)

Exorkistōn (exorcists) appears only here in the New Testament. It derives from a root word meaning “to bind with an oath”; ancient exorcists attempted to expel demons by invoking the name of a more powerful spirit being. Exorcists were common in the ancient world, even among the Jews (Matt. 12:27; Acts 13:6). Their fanciful spells and ritual formulas were very different from the absolute authority delegated by Christ and exercised by the apostles.

They addressed the demon with the incantation “I adjure you by Jesus whom Paul preaches.” Unlike Paul, however, they did not know the Person they named nor have His power delegated to them.

seven sons of one Sceva, a Jewish chief priest, were doing this. Nothing further is known of Sceva, and there was never a Jewish high priest by that name. Either he was a member of one of the high priestly families, or, more likely, he appropriated the title to impress his clients. That is not unlike those charlatans in our own day who falsely claim to be doctors or professors.

This story vividly illustrates the danger for any who assume messianic or apostolic power over demons and Satan and thus carelessly meddle in the supernatural realm.

Secondly, he does not regard them as magic either, for he sets them apart from the magical practices which Ephesian believers were soon to confess and renounce as evil (18–19).

To be sure, there is power—saving and healing power—in the name of Jesus, as Luke has been at pains to illustrate (e.g. 3:6, 16; 4:10–12). But its efficacy is not mechanical, nor can people use it second-hand.

We have already noted that Ephesus was famous for its ‘Ephesian letters’ (grammata), which were ‘written charms, amulets and talismans’.

In the Greco-Roman world, Jewish exorcists were held in high esteem for the venerability of their religion and the strangeness of their Hebrew incantations. Magicians and charlatans were omnipresent in the culture, offering various cures and blessings by their spells and incantations, all for a financial consideration. The more exotic the incantation, the more effective it was deemed to be.

A number of magical papyri from the ancient world have been discovered. These consist of various spells that often invoke the names of foreign gods and employ various kinds of gibberish. In the Paris collection of magical papyri, various Old Testament terms are found, such as Iao (for Yahweh), Abraham, and Sabaoth, terms which would have sounded exotic to Greeks and Romans. One spell reads, “I abjure thee by Jesus, the God of the Hebrews.” Another from the same papyrus reads, “Hail, God of Abraham, hail, God of Isaac, hail, God of Jacob, Jesus Chrestus, Holy Spirit, Son of the Father.”

Josephus lists all the names of the Jewish high priests up to the fall of the temple, and none is named Sceva.

With the extreme sense of modesty characteristic of Judaism, the nakedness of the Jewish exorcists was almost symbolic of their total humiliation in the incident.

Two lessons emerge from the story. For one, Christianity has nothing to do with magic. The name of Jesus is no magical incantation. The power of Jesus drives out the demonic, and his Spirit only works through those who, like Paul, confess him and are committed to him. Second, the demon did confess the power of Jesus over him, “Jesus I know.” Compare Jas 2:19, “Even the demons believe and shudder.” The people of Ephesus recognized this and extolled the powerful name of Jesus as a result (v. 17). What was true for them is still true. In the name of Jesus is all the power needed to drive out the demonic forces in every age.

Apparently the exorcism business can be rather dangerous, especially when one starts using Jesus’ name without being controlled by his Spirit.

Praxeis (practices) here refers to their secret magic spells, which were generally believed to be rendered useless if they were divulged.

They turned from their magic as the Thessalonians turned from their idols (1 Thess. 1:9).

When they calculated the value of the scrolls, the total came to fifty thousand drachmas (19), the drachma being a silver coin representing about a day’s wage.

That these young believers, instead of realizing the monetary value of their magic spells by selling them, were willing to throw them on a bonfire, was signal evidence of the genuineness of their conversion.

If the piece of silver concerned is the drachma, the most common Greek silver coin, that would come to about $35,000 in current silver value.

Luke, who loved this kind of detail, tells us that they burned 137 years worth of salary in collective sorcery scrolls!

One of my colleagues for the past fifteen years of ministry has been Walt Baker, former missionary to Haiti and for over twenty years an associate professor of missions at Dallas Seminary. Almost every summer, Walt and his wife Dottie take a group of students back to Haiti for intensive, short-term missionary activity.

While the team ministered in that country during the summer of 1987, a witch doctor trusted Christ and agreed to set a date for the burning of his devil house and all the implements of his craft. Walt arrived on the appointed day only to find the man drugged by his wife and sister who refused to surrender his body since they wanted to use it for further demon worship.

For nearly two hours Walt debated with the women outside the house, but to no avail. Legal right to the body was theirs of course; and failing to convince them otherwise, he had no choice but to leave. At the time of his departure, he literally banged his sandals against the house in the manner of the prophets and apostles and committed it to the curse of God, never to have contact with it again.

Christians tend to be too soft on issues of spiritism and demon worship. True, we don’t encounter the overt practices common to first-century life in Ephesus, but our culture is full of movies, video games, board games, astrology, ouija boards, and other paraphernalia which have distinctive connection with ancient demonism.

When we belong to Christ, he indwells us by his Spirit; and we go to war with Satan’s demon forces. Any yielding to their power sets up a dangerous point of vulnerability for those who want to live victoriously in Christ. Perhaps, like the godly Ephesian Christians, we should “burn our scrolls,” at least symbolically, and draw a very sharp line between God and Satan in our lives, our homes, our churches, and our society.