

“Free to Love”
Robert M. Thompson, Pastor
Corinth Reformed Church
150 Sixteenth Avenue NW
Hickory, North Carolina 28601
828.328.6196 corinthtoday.org
(© 2011 by Robert M. Thompson. Unless otherwise indicated, Scriptures quoted are from The Holy Bible, New International Version, Copyright 2011 by New York International Bible Society.)
Philemon 1-25
September 4, 2011
Prequel
This month at Corinth, we will read the four shortest “books” in the New Testament, each only one chapter. We will listen for what God might say to us through these letters written by early Christians.
The first of the four was written by the same Paul to whom is credited most of the letters in the New Testament. He wrote about half of the writings that Christians claim as our post-Jesus Scripture.
Only one of those letters was a personal letter, man to man, about a private appeal. It was written by Paul to Philemon, whom we presume to be a Roman businessman living in Colossae, a town in Asia Minor (modern day Turkey). Philemon had become a Christian through Paul’s witness, and the two of them had a very warm and deep personal and spiritual bond. Philemon’s church met in his home.
Philemon was also the owner of at least one slave. We don’t know how Onesimus became a slave, or what kind of work he did for Philemon. But we know his name means “useful,” a common name given to slaves that implies the master thought him worthy – but also, as with any slave, his identity and value lay in what he did.
It seems that Philemon had been especially fond of Onesimus, perhaps greatly trusted him, so it must have been a shock when Onesimus ran away. He seems also to have stolen from Philemon on the way out, probably a necessity to finance his travel.
He ran away to a city where he could be anonymous and try to start over – the capital city, Rome. Through circumstances we cannot know, there he encountered the Apostle Paul, under house arrest, awaiting trial on trumped up charges from Palestine. Onesimus also was converted to Christ through Paul. The two forged a deep bond.
Can you imagine the day that Paul said to Onesimus, “I think you need to go back to Colossae, back to Philemon; I’ve written him a letter, and I want you to deliver it”? Slave owners under Roman law had absolute power over their slaves, and running away was a capital offense. Had Onesimus been recognized before he got to Philemon’s house, he may have been beaten or jailed. If he made it to Philemon’s home, Onesimus had no idea how the master would react to his return.
(Reading of Philemon)
I gained a fresh appreciation for the letter from Paul to Philemon earlier this summer when I read a book by Sarah Ruden, Paul Among the People.” Ruden is a scholar in Greek and Roman classical literature, and the subtitle of her book is “The Apostle Reinterpreted and Reimagined in His Own Time.”
Ruden says Christian preachers and writers have often completely missed the point of Paul’s letter to Philemon, instead using it to argue about slavery. Christians are infamous for debating diversions and missing the main point.
In the mid-nineteenth century, for example, pro-slavery preachers in the American South used Philemon to argue that Paul wanted Onesimus to go back home and be a good slave for Jesus. Paul obviously condoned slavery, they said, so we should as well.
Other writers use Philemon as an argument for emancipation. Paul is arguing for the equality of this former slave, “both as a man and as a brother in the Lord” (v. 16). It’s an implicit argument that a Christian master must not enslave his brother. Paul wants Onesimus to go free.
What neither position understands, Ruden tells us, is what slavery was like in Paul’s “own time.” “Slaves were like pets” (154), she says. You might care for a pet, might feed it well and treat it as a member of the family. But you still own it, and it is never equal in rank to you. It is in your absolute power. In general, slaves were seen to the Roman mind as “basically naughty, needing, like women, a lot of control” (155).
“The most subhuman slave was the runaway,” Ruden goes on to say. “His only ties to society had been the uses that real people could make of him, and he now forfeited those ties.” She relates the story of runaway slaves caught on board a ship who were flogged forty times to appease the gods.
Here’s the key point Ruden makes. Philemon is not about “manumission” (freeing Onesimus), because that was irrelevant to Paul’s appeal, something you have to understand within “his own time.” Had Onesimus been freed, he would not have become a citizen, would not have gained any rights, would not have been seen as an equal of any kind. Emancipation would have condemned him to one of three fates – permanent subordination in Philemon’s home, always with the tag of “runaway,” some sort of beggarly or slum existence, or exile.
Paul didn’t want “freedom from slavery” for Onesimus. He wanted something far more valuable. What Paul wanted from Philemon was so counterintuitive that Sarah Ruden uses words like “farce,” “joke, and “absurd” to describe the letter.
Let’s think about the areas of life where Philemon intersects with us. I’ll make my list; you make yours.
I know what it’s like to have a trusted employee steal tens of thousands of dollars from underneath my nose. I know what it’s like to have someone who works from me run rather than facing a difficult situation. I know what it’s like to have two people I dearly love estranged from each other. I know what it’s like to feel like I am under the control of others, and hold a position of power, even though I’ve never been either slave or master. I know what it’s like to have circumstances beyond my control give another opportunity to cross paths with someone someone from my past who doesn’t understand how much my life has changed.
What about you? Is there anything in the letter or story of Philemon that rings true to your own experience? Friendship, family, distance, business, injustice, power, hierarchy, betrayal, forgiveness – does any of that sound familiar?
Some Christian leaders in the fourth and fifth centuries thought Philemon didn’t belong in the Bible. Almost everyone agreed Paul wrote the letter, but some thought it was too short, or didn’t offer enough substance.
Really? To me, this letter is a marvelous example of how the gospel changes everything. Paul may not overtly review theology – but who Christ is and how he transforms life gives foundation to how he relates to Onesimus, how he addresses Philemon, and how he thinks Philemon should receive Onesimus.
Paul’s approach is countercultural – in first century Asia Minor and in twenty-first century America. Let’s look at those three relationships.
Paul and Onesimus – the gospel reinterprets slavery. When Paul and Onesimus meet in Rome, neither of them is wealthy, influential, or powerful. One is a runaway slave; the other a prisoner. The paths of two nobodies collide. But we’re still talking about it two millennia later.
We all have times and places in our lives where we feel like nobodies. We cannot get noticed; we are not valued. On the ladder of success, we’re lower than the bottom rung; we’re crushed under the legs.
Many people have struggled with why Paul – or Jesus, for that matter – didn’t directly challenge slavery. This is but one of many places in Scripture where God could have spoken directly and authoritatively to destroy one of the most destructive institutions in human history. Why does the Bible seem to be indifferent, silent?
Because Paul understood – by reflecting on the life and teachings of Jesus, I’m sure, that our true bondage is never what we think it is. We look at where slavery is visible – to people, to institutions, to schedules, to tasks. We think, “If I could just get out of this job, out of this relationship, out of this town, I would be free.
Paul met a runaway slave, doubtless one who had learned that “freedom” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Running around Rome looking for legitimate employment or someone to hustle, all the while covering up your past, is hardly the stuff of freedom. Who knows, maybe Onesimus ran into Paul because he, too, became part of the penal system? However it happened, it was a God-thing.
At any rate, Paul knew that Onesimus’ true slavery was his lack of identity. Let’s call it lack of family. Paul calls him a “son” in verse 10, and a “brother” in verse 16. Sarah Ruden says a slave in Paul’s day was “filius nominis, a son of no one.” A slave often didn’t know who is father was, or who his siblings were. Onesimus didn’t have anyone he could call family. It was in part that brokenness that caused him to take the risk of running to see if he could find something more meaningful.
Paul, who called himself in verse 9 “and old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus,” showed Onesimus he had family. What a difference it made to Onesimus when Paul said, “You are my son.” We are all slaves until we are sons.
The book of Philemon did transform and eventually eradicate the institution of slavery. The early church didn’t wage a war against the institution; it just weakened it by seeing people as….well, people. The gospel gives dignity to every human being whether or not they have power or privilege as the world defines it. When slavery reared again its ugly head in the 18th and 19th centuries, it was again the gospel of Jesus that gave the motivation and staying power to eradicate it.
Paul and Philemon – the gospel transforms friendship. The letter of Philemon is based on the relationship Paul had with Philemon, and now wished to renew and take to the next level.
We tend to think of our friends as acquaintances, then people we can enjoy (and maybe use), and then people who can affirm and encourage us. We rarely think of friends as tools God can use for transformation.
I don’t know how Paul met Philemon. Remember, he was very different from Onesimus. Philemon was money, he was power, he was stature. Paul loved the outcast and the nobody. But he also invested himself in the nobility and the somebody. Philemon was worth his time.
How Paul expresses their friendship is remarkable. There’s a progression in this letter. Some see Paul flattering Philemon in the beginning of the letter (4-7), then making a gentle appeal based on reason and love (8-10), and finally demanding his obedience (19-21) as an obligation.
I just think Paul understands how Philemon thinks and what will work. He would have changed his approach if he were writing someone else. Paul knew his friend well, and he knew that their friendship was rooted in the gospel and could have gospel results.
That’s why right from the beginning he reminds Philemon of their friendship and partnership (1), of the hospitality shown by Philemon and his family (2), of Philemon’s faith and love (7) and how he has “refreshed the hearts of the saints” (7). He talks about “every good thing we have in Christ,” because Philemon has come to know just as much as Onesimus that his identity is not in money (or lack thereof).
Paul, I’m sure, befriended Philemon before he shared the gospel with him. He just treated him like a person. They hung out, went to the arena, talked about places they had visited and people they knew. Paul probably knew early on that Philemon had slaves, and it probably made him uncomfortable. But Philemon didn’t have to be fully sanctified to be a friend. He started where they both were.
Paul had no idea if or how Philemon would come to know the freedom that is in Christ or how being loved unconditionally would then extend to hospitality, generosity, and encouragement. He just let the friendship develop and then, at the right time, shared with Philemon how life could be so much more meaningful in the Lord.
I don’t think Paul was “buttering him up” at the beginning of the letter so he could make demands at the end. He was just doing what friends do – starting with the warmth and depth of where they had been so he could appeal for something more (21).
Philemon and Onesimus – the gospel redeems betrayal. The most powerful lesson in this letter from Paul to Philemon comes in what Paul asks of both Philemon and Onesimus. Remember there had been betrayal of trust. Now Paul asks Philemon to receive him “no longer as a slave, but better than a slave as a dear brother” (16). And he asks Onesimus to risk his very life on the rather remarkable possibility that Philemon will agree. My favorite verse in Philemon is verse 15: “perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back for good.”
Betrayal is horrible. Relationships build trust over time, and when that trust is broken, it is human nature to be done with it. “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” It’s a rather interesting way to describe theft, betrayal, and flight, isn’t it? “He was separated from you.” Most of us would answer back angrily, “He wasn’t ‘separated’ from me – he stole my stuff and ran!”
Can you see the possibility that the worst of your present circumstances could be redemptive by the grace of God? Can you see even the pain as a God-thing?
We’re so afraid to give freedom. So intent on holding on. Yet God frees us to choose, even when we choose to shun him. He never forces us.
Sometimes it’s in giving us exactly what we thought we wanted that God is simply allowing us to reach the logical end. This betrayal resulted in the transformation of Onesimus into a son who fulfilled his name in his “usefulness” – first to Paul and then, Paul hoped, to Philemon.
Paul, then Philemon, then Onesimus, had all grasped and responded to the Story of God’s risk in creating humans with freedom, his patience in letting them do their own thing, and his pursuit of them that ultimately cost him betrayal when we killed his own Son. This is what Paul means in verse 6 when he prays that Philemon “will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ.”
The more they grasped that story, the more these three men had to entrust that, as Sarah Ruden phrases it, “God alone has the power to make a runaway slave a son and brother, and in fact to make any mess work out for the good.”
That’s faith. It’s not up to me to straighten out the mess. It’s up to me to open the door of my heart to use my past, my friendships, and even my betrayals for good.
If Philemon were a movie, you would want to see the sequel. What happened? Did Philemon restore Onesimus? As a slave, as a brother, as what? One tradition says that Onesimus became a bishop. Certainly someone by the same name did. It’s possible.
But maybe we’re not supposed to know “the rest of the story.” Maybe we’re supposed to live it. Five words might be helpful as we live out the sequel –
Amen.