"Come Home – All is Forgiven!”

The Letter to Philemon

Labor Sunday + September 5, 2010

Pilgrim Congregational United Church of Christ

400 Glenwood Drive

Chattanooga, Tennessee 37404

Is there anyone here this morning who remembers penny postcards?! We just dated ourselves, didn’t we! For anyone younger than sixty who may not recall them, penny postcards were plain pre-stamped postcards that were great for sending a quick and inexpensive message. Of course, using them meant sacrificing the privacy of your message.

When I was a kid growing up on 333 Lincoln Street in Otsego we had a postman whom my father nicknamed “Lightning.” I think you can guess why! As “Lightning” moved slowly from house to house we could tell he was amusing himself by reading the messages on the penny postcards since he sometimes commented on the messages to the people to whom they were addressed. We also suspected he read the letters in the unsealed envelopes he delivered. Again, some of us are old enough to remember that for some unknown reason it was cheaper to send a letter unsealed than sealed.

But I guess we shouldn’t be too hard on “Lightning. Who hasn’t read a message intended for someone else? A few years ago I noticed this personal message on a theater marquee: “Karen, Will you marry me? Eric B.” First I smiled, and then I wondered: “Eric B.!” Either this fellow has one of the lowest cases of self-esteem on record – does he think Karen won’t recognize him by his first name?! – or maybe he knows something we don’t know – that he is in competition for this young lady’s hand with a whole host of Erics!

Have you ever pondered why some people send such public private messages? Sitting in a sports stadium a message is flashed on the scoreboard or trailed from a plane flying overhead: “Susan, will you marry me? John.” I suppose people send such messages because they think it is a cute way to “pop the question.” But I can’t help wondering if a few of them think a bit of peer pressure from several thousand folks might help their cause!

Of course, sometimes people want other people to know what they have written to someone. Politicians are masters at this. A politician writes a letter to someone explaining a position or criticizing an action and, at the same time, releases the text to the media. Sometimes the letter is on the front page before the person receiving it has even had a chance to read it. Such letters only seem to be private correspondence when in fact they are intended for public consumption.

This, by the way, is the conclusion of contemporary New Testament scholars about Paul’s Letter to Philemon, our scripture lesson this morning. Clearly, it is a highly personal message from Paul to Philemon. But why is it now a part of the New Testament? We believe it is because this wonderful letter was not only Paul’s personal appeal to Philemon but also was intended to be read in public in Philemon’s church, the church which, in fact, met in his own home.

As Paul begins his letter we learn that he is a prisoner, probably in Rome, and probably about A.D. 61. The tone of the letter is very optimistic. Paul hopes he will soon be released and be able to visit his friends – his Christian family – in Colossae, Ephesus, and other cities where he has founded churches. Sadly, we know something Paul does not know: within four years he will be executed by Nero. Part of the reason Paul’s spirits are high is that he is not alone in his imprisonment. A number of his “missionary team” are with him. Notice at the end of the letter that Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke are with Paul in that Roman prison. Timothy is also there. Timothy was the young man who was Paul’s disciple and also his secretary. For a variety of reasons we now believe Paul suffered from a severe sight disability, myopia or cataract – his famous “thorn in the flesh” – and that this caused him to dictate his letters to someone; in this case, Timothy.

But in addition to these (now) well-known Christian leaders, there is someone else in the cell with Paul. He is the reason this letter is being written to Philemon. He is a young man named Onesimus. And Onesimus is a slave.

To understand why Paul felt it was so important to write this letter on Onesimus’ behalf to his master. Philemon, we must know something about the world in which they lived. Society in the Roman Empire was divided into two classes – “slave and free.” (Cf. Colossians 3:11) Slaves made up from one-half to two-thirds of the Empire’s population; in many places, they far outnumbered their owners. We have records of wealthy folk who owned as many as eight thousand slaves apiece! These slaves had no civil rights; before the law they were not persons but property. Those who owned them had absolute authority over them in all matters of life and death. At court, a slave’s testimony could not be admitted as evidence unless it was extracted under torture. The Emperor Augustus crucified one of his slaves for the simple offense of eating a quail intended for the royal table! It was common practice to kill slaves for theft or attempted escape, even as it was common to mutilate or brand them for petty offenses.

Ironically, slaves in the Roman Empire were often more learned and cultured than their masters and mistresses. Among them were philosophers, teachers, and deposed aristocrats. Their only inferiority to those who were free citizens consisted in their bondage. Most slaves families were prisoners of Rome’s imperial wars. Others were debtors whom greedy creditors had sold in much the same way a banker forecloses a mortgage.

Everywhere throughout Roman society owners feared their slaves. They knew they were sitting on top of the lid of a potential explosion. Slave revolts such as the one led by Spartacus were a constant threat. Slave-owners knew it, and were driven by their knowledge to measures which became increasingly cruel and oppressive. While a limited number of slaves were allowed to buy their freedom or were given freedom for some extraordinary service the idea of universal emancipation was not even thought of. The idea was to “keep the slaves in their place” and to strike them down with an iron hand if they threatened to get out of hand.

Since Paul knew all this, we are not surprised that he is deeply concerned for the fate of the runaway slave, Onesimus. But what on earth is Onesimus doing there in Rome with Paul?

Here we need to read between the lines of the letter. Let us first remember that the earliest Christian churches did not meet in public buildings but in private homes. For good reason! It was never certain when a new outbreak of persecution would make it unsafe to be known as a Christian. Part of the greatness of the beginnings of the Christian Church was that it appealed to all parts of Greco-roman society – to the wise and wealthy and to the poor and powerless, to men and women, to old and young, to free and slave. All of them heard in the proclamation of the Christian faith that all the old barriers among people had been overcome. For a world then and now rent and torn from top to bottom by all kinds of national, economic, religious, racial, and sexual divisions, that is the best news anyone could ever hear.

It certainly must have been good news in Colossae when people first heard it through the preaching of Epaphras, one of those now in prison with Paul. Epaphras founded the church in the home of a wealthy man named Philemon. Worship services in the early church were nearly always held after dark when the day’s work was over and when it would be safe to gather together. We can imagine the scene as Epaphras and other evangelists shared their own faith that in Christ “there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all.” Like too much preaching, it was heard by those Colossian Christians as a fine sentiment and a high hope for the future. But one of those who heard these words took them with absolute seriousness. There in the shadows, one of Philemon’s young slaves named Onesimus, heard these words and dared to believe that Christ meant him to be free.

Acting on that conviction, Onesimus ran away from Philemon. He eventually found his way to Paul’s prison cell in Rome. Ironically enough, Paul had never visited Colossae or preached in the home of Philemon. Onesimus only knew of Paul by reputation but he staked his life on the belief that Paul would receive him and protect him.

His faith was justified. Paul kept him there in the Roman cell and Onesimus made himself useful in all kinds of ways to the imprisoned apostle. He became so useful that Paul even makes a pun on his name when he sends Onesimus back to Philemon with this letter. Onesimus in Greek means “useful.” Like many slave owners, Philemon had given his slaves names he hoped might inspire their labors on his behalf. But Onesimus was clearly not “useful” to Philemon. Like most slaves, he had found ways of doing as little as possible for the master. I recall an African-American comedian once commenting: “Why do you think we shuffled when we were slaves? So the food would get cold while we were bringing it to the table!”

But now Onesimus had a good reason to be “useful.” He loved and respected Paul and wanted to do anything he could to make his imprisonment more comfortable. And Paul appreciated it – deeply. As he notes in verse 13 he would have been glad to keep him with him. Nevertheless, Paul felt he had to send this runaway slave home to his master. Why? Some would say it was because Paul felt he had to obey the laws of Rome, no matter how unjust, cruel, and unchristian they might be.

In spite of the radical new faith he proclaimed with all its clear implications for fundamental changes in human society, Paul never completely freed himself from the cultural expectations of his time. Everyone has heard his words – still misused in parts of the Christian Church today – about the need for women to keep silent in church and to be subordinate to the leadership of men. And his words in the letter to the Church about the duty of all Christians to be subject to “the powers that be” bore terrible and bitter fruit in Nazi Germany.

But I want to offer two words in Paul’s defense. First, no matter how great Paul or any leader may be, they are never without their blind spots. To accept as “Gospel truth” whatever some religious leader may say is to abandon our own God-given freedom. Paul himself recognized this. On more than one occasion he cautioned his readers that in some matters he was only expressing his own opinion, not God’s truth. Let me say a second word in Paul’s defense. I am convinced he knew better than he spoke. And isn’t that true for all of us? If we can forgive our own hypocrisy, I hope we can find it in our hearts to forgive Paul’s.

Perhaps Paul did send Onesimus back to Philemon because the law said he had to do it. But I truly believe there was a more profound reason. Though Paul has never met Philemon, he had certainly heard of him by reputation. There in the prison cell I am sure Epaphras told Paul what kind of man Philemon was. I suspect that what Epaphras told Paul was the same thing my Dad said about certain people he respected: “He’s a real Christian.” What my Dad meant was that there are some church people who do not simply claim to be Christians but truly live as Christians should live. And the mark of real Christians is that they know how to forgive. In that critical sense, Paul believed that Philemon was a real Christian. And that is why he dared to send Onesimus back to Philemon carrying this letter – one of the most wonderful Christian letters ever written.

He appealed to Philemon to receive Onesimus home not as a returned runaway slave – grudgingly taken back into service – but as a Christian brother, a member with Paul and Philemon of the Christian family. Before he ran away, Onesimus was a useless and (even) rebellious slave. Now he is part of Christ’s family.

What a tremendous risk Paul was taking! By Roman Law Philemon would have been legally justified in having Onesimus tortured or killed. But Paul believes so much in the power of Christ to change human life that he is willing to take this risk. God knows I wish that faith were always justified. I think of the wry comment made by the tent evangelist, Billy Sunday, when he heard that a certain wealthy man had been converted. Asked Billy: “Was his wallet converted, too?”

Sad to say, many Christians then and now keep some important part of their lives from commitment to Christ. And the reasons and excuses we give!  How sad. But the good news is that sometimes, more often than you might suspect, people really do live up to the best of their Christian faith. When the going gets tough, they do get going and follow Christ – no matter what it may cost them.

Let’s take this matter of forgiveness, for example. Who among us hasn’t been hurt by someone needlessly, thoughtlessly, cruelly? Why should we extend forgiveness to them? There is really only one reason and it is caught up in a story from the life of the great founder of Methodism, John Wesley. After listening to one of Wesley’s sermons appealing to Christians to forgive those who had hurt them, someone said to Wesley: “I never forgive.” “Then,” said Wesley, “I hope you never sin.”

But that’s the point, isn’t it? We have all sinned. We are all less than perfect. We all need to be forgiven from time to time. And the good news – the best news – is that God in Christ does forgive us. God forgives us even before we ask to be forgiven. And the only thing God asks of us that we should extend that same forgiveness to others. And that’s what we pray every Sunday morning: “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.” Actually, the terrible implication of those words is that if we don’t forgive those who sin against us, God will not forgive us. All of us have heard about the (so-called) unpardonable sin. It’s very simple: God cannot forgive anyone who doesn’t think they need to be forgiven or who does not extend forgiveness to others.

So that we never forget that crucial part of our faith I have always thought that over the door to every Christian Church should be written the words of my sermon topic this morning: “Come Home – All is forgiven!” Thank God Philemon believed that and practiced that.

How do I know that? Now I am going to play Paul Harvey and tell you “the rest of the story.”

Fifty years after this Letter to Philemon was written, Ignatius, one of the greatest Christian martyrs, was being taken to execution from Antioch to Rome. As he goes, he writes farewell letters to the churches of Asia Minor which still survive. He stops at Smyrna and writes to the Church at Ephesus. In the first chapter of that letter, he has much to say about their wonderful bishop. And what is the bishop’s name? Onesimus! And Ignatius makes exactly the same pun as Paul had made in his letter – that he is Onesimus (“useful”) by name and Onesimus (“useful”) by nature. Surely, it is too great a coincidence that Ignatius would not know of Paul’s little joke. It may well be that the runaway slave had become with the passing years the great bishop of Ephesus.

Onesimus had found his own way home. Through his preaching and teaching he had helped others find their way home. And the same loving invitation still echoes down the ages: “Come Home – All is Forgiven!” Thank God! Thank God! (I am indebted in this message to William Barclay’s Daily Bible Study Series Westminster Press, 1975: “The Letter to Philemon.”