How lovely God is Pt 8: Deception is worse than the sin
Acts 5:1-5, 7-10 1Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. 2With his wife’s full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet. 3Then Peter said, “Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit and have kept for yourself some of the money you received for the land? 4Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal? What made you think of doing such a thing? You have not lied just to human beings but to God.” 5When Ananias heard this, he fell down and died. And great fear seized all who heard what had happened…. 7About three hours later his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. 8Peter asked her, “Tell me, is this the price you and Ananias got for the land?” “Yes,” she said, “that is the price.” 9Peter said to her, “How could you conspire to test the Spirit of the Lord? Listen! The feet of the men who buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out also.” 10At that moment she fell down at his feet and died.
Context
In the early days of the church, when “all the believers were one in heart and mind” (Acts 4:32,) an extraordinary purity marked the fellowship of those who followed Christ. They shared their possessions, broke bread together, and devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and prayer (Acts 2:42-47). Yet, even within this atmosphere of spiritual unity and generosity, sin found an entry point. Acts 5:1–10 tells the sobering story of Ananias and Sapphira—a husband and wife who conspired to deceive the Holy Spirit. Their tale stands as both a warning and a mirror: a warning against hypocrisy and deceit, and a mirror revealing the human heart’s capacity to mask pride and self-interest under the guise of devotion.
This passage follows the account of Barnabas, who had sold a field he owned and brought the money and given it to the Apostles for common use. In stark contrast, Ananias and Sapphira also sold property, but secretly kept back part of the proceeds while pretending to donate the full amount. Basically, they lied. Their deceit led to immediate and divine judgment. Peter’s confrontation exposes not just their dishonesty but a deeper offense: they had lied not to men, but to God Himself.
Guilty knowledge
The phrase “with his wife’s full knowledge” immediately introduces the moral gravity of the act. This was not a careless mistake or a momentary lapse—it was premeditated, deliberate, and shared. In Greek, the word used for ‘kept back’ carries connotations of embezzlement or misuse. Such things still happen a lot and there is no justification for such activity. The key issue is not that Ananias and Sapphira failed to give all the proceeds, but that they pretended to and lied about it. Peter later clarifies, “Didn’t it belong to you before it was sold? And after it was sold, wasn’t the money at your disposal?” Their sin was not greed in isolation but hypocrisy—pretending a greater generosity than they possessed.
The “guilty knowledge” of Sapphira reveals that both shared complicity in the deception. They knowingly cooperated in deceit, planning to appear more pious than they were. Such collusion demonstrates how easily pride and the desire for reputation can infiltrate even spiritual acts. As Jesus warned, “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them” (Matthew 6:1). Guilty knowledge is not merely an intellectual awareness of wrongdoing; it involves an inward agreement to suppress truth. The conscience, designed by God to bear witness to truth, is silenced when pride takes precedence. As Paul wrote, “Their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened” (Romans 1:21).
The tragedy of Ananias and Sapphira thus begins not with the act of withholding but with the decision to misrepresent—a silent conversation between husband and wife where truth was sacrificed on the altar of image.
A spirit of deceit
Peter’s confrontation exposes the true nature of their sin: “Ananias, how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit?” This language reveals that deceit is not merely a human flaw but a spiritual condition—a partnership with the enemy of truth. Satan, is called the father of lies because he has always sought to corrupt what is holy through deception. Just as he filled Judas’s heart to betray Jesus, he now fills Ananias’s heart to deceive the Spirit of Christ within the Church.
This is not demonic possession in the sensational sense, but spiritual influence born of consent. The heart that entertains deceit invites the enemy’s participation. The phrase “Satan filled your heart” indicates that Ananias allowed his desires—perhaps envy of Barnabas’s praise or the allure of public esteem—to create a foothold for deceit. Deceit is subtle. It often disguises itself as prudence or harmless pretense. The sin of Ananias and Sapphira looked, from the outside, like generosity. Only divine discernment could expose its falseness. This is the danger Peter warns against in his first letter: “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). The most vulnerable hearts are those who believe their intentions are pure when they are not.
In Ephesians 4:27, believers are exhorted, “Do not give the devil a foothold.” The Greek term suggests even a small space of opportunity. When deceit enters the heart, it becomes the devil’s territory. Jesus, in contrast, described the Spirit as the Spirit of truth who leads believers into all truth. To deceive the Spirit, then, is to rebel against His very nature.
Ananias and Sapphira’s deceit represents a collision of two spiritual realms—the truth-bearing work of the Holy Spirit and the lie-sowing work of Satan. Their story reminds us that deceit cannot coexist with divine presence. In every generation, the Church faces this same battle. When believers misrepresent their devotion, inflate their sacrifices, or conceal sin under spiritual language, they participate in the same spirit of deceit that filled Ananias. The Holy Spirit is not deceived, but the witness of the Church is weakened. The true danger lies not in the act of deception itself, but in the heart posture that believes God will overlook it.
Lying to God
The Holy Spirit is not an impersonal force, but the living presence of God Himself. Lying to God is an absurdity, for He “searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought” (1 Chronicles 28:9). Yet this is precisely what sin does—it blinds the sinner to reality. Ananias may have convinced himself that his deception was harmless or undetectable, but Peter’s revelation exposes how self-deception precedes every lie against God.
David’s confession in Psalm 139 captures the truth Ananias ignored: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” The omniscient Spirit cannot be fooled by appearances. Every pretense is seen through, every hidden motive laid bare. To lie to God is to act as though He were not God—as though His holiness were negotiable and His knowledge limited. This makes deceit not only immoral but idolatrous. It replaces the true God with a mental image of one who can be manipulated or ignored.
The result of this lie was immediate judgment: “When Ananias heard this, he fell down and died.” The suddenness of divine response underscores the seriousness of his offense. Some readers struggle with the severity of this punishment, but the early church was at a critical moment of formation. God’s holiness had to be unmistakable. This act reaffirmed that God’s presence among His people is not to be trifled with.
Paul would later write, “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows” (Galatians 6:9). Deceit against God’s Spirit is, in essence, mockery—treating the sacred as ordinary. The wages of such sin are immediate in this story, but the principle remains eternal: truth and holiness are inseparable from the Spirit’s presence. The tragic irony is that Ananias and Sapphira’s lie achieved the opposite of their desire. They sought human admiration, but their deceit brought divine condemnation. They wished to appear righteous, but ended as examples of hypocrisy. In lying to God, they lost both integrity and life.
Testing the Holy Spirit
To “test” the Spirit means to provoke Him—to see how far one can go without consequence. It is a challenge to divine authority, an experiment in presumption. Israel did this in the wilderness when they doubted God’s provision, saying, “Is the LORD among us or not” (Exodus 17:7)? Similarly, Sapphira tested whether God would truly know or care about their deception.
Testing the Spirit reveals a heart hardened by self-deception. When truth no longer convicts and conscience grows numb, people begin to “test” God’s patience. The principle is consistent: divine grace is not license for dishonesty. In testing the Spirit, Sapphira demonstrated a tragic lack of reverence. The fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom, had been replaced with the fear of exposure. She chose consistency with her husband’s lie over repentance. The moment invited confession, yet she doubled down on deceit. Her death followed instantly, mirroring her husband’s fate. The fear felt by the onlookers was not terror but reverence—a renewed awareness of God’s holiness. The incident established a boundary between the sacred and the profane, reminding the Church that the Spirit’s presence is not compatible with deceit.
Testing the Spirit is not confined to this historical episode. It remains a cautionary truth. Every time believers rationalize sin, justify hypocrisy, or manipulate spiritual appearances, they flirt with the same presumption. Yet, the lesson is not only punitive—it is redemptive. God’s holiness exposes sin not to condemn, but to preserve the integrity of His dwelling among His people. The Spirit cannot be deceived, but He can be grieved. The wise response, therefore, is continual repentance and truthfulness before Him.
What about me?
The story of Ananias and Sapphira is one of the most sobering in the New Testament. It reminds us that deceit within the Church is not a trivial matter—it is a direct affront to the Holy Spirit who dwells among believers. Their sin was not stinginess, but hypocrisy; not a lack of generosity, but a lack of truth.
For believers today, the call is to cultivate transparency before God and one another. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth, and to live by Him is to walk in truth. John writes, “If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another” (1 John 1:7). The antidote to deceit is confession, humility, and a fear of the Lord that leads to holiness.
The early Church’s purity was not preserved by leniency but by reverence. In a world that often treats authenticity as optional, Acts 5 reminds us that the Spirit still demands sincerity of heart. To deceive the Holy Spirit is to reject the very One who gives life; to walk in truth is to honor the One who sanctifies and sustains the Church.
Believer, the human heart is sinful. Yours, mine—all of us. The temptation is strong to cover up mistakes or embarrassment through deception. We have seen the fall of several men of God lately and their great sin always and every time began with a simple deception. They think, “I got away with that, so why not?” Well, they didn’t get away with it—God noticed and eventually brought their downfall.
When you lie or mislead or cover-up, the solution is to repent. Repent to both God and man. Yes, it is embarrassing, but the consequence of not repenting is more substantial than the repentance.