Philemon

¹³ I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel, ¹⁴ but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord. ¹⁵ For this perhaps is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, ¹⁶ no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.

“Pastor, that was a good sermon this morning…”

I began to open my mouth to thank him for the kind word when he finished his statement.

“…until you got into social experimentation.”

I once preached a sermon in an environment that had a kind of simmering subterranean racial tension. The town was divided both racially and socio-economically. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was not really divided in terms of active hostilities but rather in terms of the existence of two largely distinct social spheres. By and large, things operated as they always did in this town, but the question of people of different races worshiping together in church was still, for some, a sticking point.

I had made the point in the sermon that Jesus levels the field, that the blood of Christ means that there are no more categories of people, that there are now just people. We are now freed to view people as people without the baggage of either explicit or implicit caste systems. The Church therefore becomes the sphere of reality in the midst of the world that models other-worldly values, not the least of which is the value of equality, non-partiality, and love among all people as equals.

The man who made this comment to me was actually saying something quite interesting. “Pastor, that was a good sermon this morning…until you got into social experimentation” is a statement about the limits of theological truth. In essence, the gentleman was telling me that he enjoyed hearing about Jesus and the cross, but any attempt actually and literally to extend those teachings to real social transformation in a culture that was racially divided was “social experimentation.”

While the man no-doubt would deny that this was what he meant, it seemed clear enough to me at the time and seems no less clear to me today that he viewed Christianity primarily through privatized and isolated lenses. In such cases, the gospel is about “getting me to heaven” and the social implications of it are, at best, secondary but should probably viewed as harmful digressions.

I reject this idea completely.

A good bit of the scriptures consist of divine instructions on how God’s people are to live out the clear societal and communal implications of divine truth. In the New Testament, this manifests itself most clearly in the reality of the Church. In point of fact, the Church is a social experiment. In the Church, God is establishing a people who will model the values of the Kingdom that is not of this world. Of course “social experiment” really is not the right word, for God is behind this experiment and knows exactly what He is doing.

The gospel shatters the old social categories and establishes Kingdom realities in their place.

One of the aspects of the book of Philemon that becomes extremely clear upon reading it (and one of the major points of the book, we might say) is that the gospel shatters the old social categories and establishes Kingdom realities in their place. The book is, in large measure, about precisely this: what happens to the old categories that the world has established and defined once Christ and His gospel has been dropped right in the middle of them.

¹³ I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel, ¹⁴ but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord.

In essence, what Paul is saying in verses 13 and 14 is that Onesimus, the runaway slave, came to him, was converted, and Paul actually wanted to keep him with him “on [Philemon’s] behalf” since Onesimus was such a dear and helpful brother in Christ. However, Paul did not want to assume that this was Philemon’s wish and, knowing that Onesimus needed to be rightfully restored to Philemon, he was sending him back.

Interestingly, when Paul says he “would have been glad to keep him with me,” the word he uses for “keep him” can be translated “to hold back, prevent from leaving…implying in turn that it was Onesimus who was anxious to return to make amends to and peace with his master.”[1] This was perhaps strategic wording on Paul’s part, but that does not mean that it was not actually the case that Onesimus was eager to return to Philemon in order to make things right. Having come to know Christ, Onesimus undoubtedly felt like he should do what was right in this case. Since Philemon knew Christ already, Paul leaned heavily on that fact in returning Onesimus and in attempting to help Philemon prepare for a proper response.

There is something else here. Paul says that he would have been happy to keep Onesimus “so that he might serve me.” Richard Melick points out that Paul is essentially referring to Onesimus as a “deacon” here, though he does not mean that word in the formal ecclesiastical sense.

The term “service” is [diakono], a term with overwhelmingly strong Christian connotations. It seems fair to assume that Onesimus had gifts in the work of the gospel, and that caught Paul’s imagination. To interpret this as some mundane or menial task to assist Paul in practical matters misses the New Testament associations of the word.[2]

Paul was certainly not wanting to enslave Onesimus for himself. Rather, Paul meant that Onesimus was now a useful and effective servant not because of his legal status as a slave but because of his new Kingdom status as a child of God. We are now able to see how the old social categories and labels are shattered and then redefined by Christ.

¹³ I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel, ¹⁴ but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord.

The phrase “that he might serve me on your behalf” is intriguing. We see that Philemon, the master, is likewise a servant in Christ and Onesimus, the slave, is now free in Christ. Even as they operate within existing legal realities, the gospel has redefined who they are and how they are to view themselves. In the Kingdom of God, masters also serve and slaves are set free. The mighty are lowered and the lowly are exalted to a precisely equal level.

One should keep Mary’s “Magnificat” from Luke 1 in mind when reading Philemon, for her prophetic words about the coming Jesus are seen in operation in Philemon.

⁴⁶ And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, ⁴⁸ for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; ⁴⁹ for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. ⁵⁰ And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. ⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; ⁵² he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; ⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. ⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, ⁵⁵ as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

Like Mary prophesied in her beautiful song, Paul is calling upon Philemon to understand exactly what it means that this Jesus has come onto the scene. Things are different now. To Paul, Onesimus, the runaway slave, now serves him on his master’s behalf. To Philemon, Paul, an apostle, sets aside his authority and entreats him as a brother in Christ. To Philemon, Onesimus, his offending slave, is returning a brother in Christ. The old slave-master construct has been obliterated by Kingdom redefinition. It would take a long time for Kingdom reality to become legal reality in the world, but, in time, it would happen.

The challenge for Christians becomes one of learning to view reality through Kingdom eyes instead of through the eyes of the world.

Of course, this whole dynamic presents those who are in Christ with a challenge. The challenge for Christians becomes one of learning to view reality through Kingdom eyes instead of through the eyes of the world.

¹⁵ For this perhaps is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, ¹⁶ no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.

Philemon is now challenged to view this situation in a new light because of what Christ has done. First, he can no longer view this situation through merely temporal lenses. Now, Philemon can receive Onesimus “back forever.” What an unbelievable thought! Before Onesimus came to know Christ, Philemon’s relationship with Onesimus was merely temporary. It would end at death or if Philemon sold Onesimus. But now, because of Christ, their relationship was eternal. They will never be parted. Right now, at this very moment, Philemon and Onesimus are friends in Heaven.

Consider how the knowledge of eternal life together changes our relationships. That person you are tempted to respond to in a harsh manner, that person you are tempted to dismiss, that person to whom you are tempted to act cruelly, the person you are wondering if you should forgive, that person is either (a) a fellow citizen of the Kingdom of God or (b) a potential fellow citizen of the Kingdom of God. You either will spend an eternity with that person or you might spend an eternity with that person. The simple truth is we can no longer act towards one another or respond to one another or view one another as merely temporal travel companions. We have each other “forever.”

What is more, Onesimus, because of Jesus, is no longer just a slave, he is returning to Philemon “no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother.” Here is where we begin to see the ways in which the letter of Philemon carried with it the seeds of abolition. This is a truly unbelievable statement. Paul tells Philemon, a first century slave owner, that because of Jesus he is to view Onesimus “as a beloved brother.” Philemon, then, is not to hate Onesimus as a runaway slave. He is to love Onesimus as a brother, and not merely a brother, “a beloved brother.”

Behold the power of the gospel of Christ. It makes outsiders insiders. It makes runaway slaves beloved brothers. It brings low the might and lifts up the lowly. The gospel is the great ground leveler, the great chain breaker, great emancipation proclamation.

I once attended a prayer meeting in North Little Rock, Arkansas, in which men from various churches and various walks of life gathered for prayer and for breakfast. While there, a poor man shared his testimony. He told how he had come to know Christ. He told how he had made a lot of mistakes in life but was now changed and being changed by Christ. We all had a good laugh when the brother pointed to a well-dressed man in the room, a local judge, and pointed out that he had had to stand before that judge in the past because of his crimes. He told the room that they had had previous dealings. The man laughed. The judge laughed. We all laughed. And then we prayed together – judge, poor man, all of us – together. Then we broke bread.

The scene struck me as fantastic, but in terms of it unbelievability and its awesomeness. A judge and a criminal chuckling together over their former relationship and then rejoicing together in their new relationship. In Christ, the judge was not a judge but a brother. They stand together before the supreme Judge of all heaven and earth. In Christ, the poor brother was no criminal but a beloved brother indeed. The gospel put the earthly judge and the earthly judged on the exact same level. The judge is not honored more and the judged is not honored less. In the Kingdom, they are one, united, standing on level ground at the foot of the cross, for the cross reminds us of our solidarity both as fallen human beings in need of grace and, in Christ, as redeemed brothers and sisters in Christ.

We simply must begin here and now to live out Kingdom realities that must exist in the Church whether they exist in the world or not. We must not – we dare not – import the old categories into the Church again.

In Christ, we are one and we are free. In Christ, there is a true and righteous affection that need not be distorted or corrupted by the corrosive categories and assumptions and power structures of the fallen world.

In Christ, lions lay down with lambs, judges break bread with the judged, and “red and yellow, black and white” all join together at the table of the Lamb in order to break common bread and remember that it was for this that Christ came. Christ did not come only to get us to Heaven, to get us ready to die. He came also to show us how to live. He came to model a new way of living, a new life altogether. It is a life that makes little sense to the lost world. Indeed, it oftentimes makes little sense even to followers of Christ who are daily striving to grow in their understanding of just what it is Christ has done and just what it is that Christ is doing. But for the Church, our faith overrides our questions about this path that has been place before us and we trust and know that the way of Christ, though oftentimes difficult and even frightening, is the path of peace, of joy, and of life now and forevermore.

 

[1] James D.G. Dunn, The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon. The New International Greek Testament Commentary. Gen. Eds., I. Howard Marshall, W. Ward Gasque, Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), p.330.

[2] Richard R. Melick, Jr. Philippians, Colossians, Philemon. The New American Commentary. Vol. 32 (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 1991), p.362, n.17.