More Than Just Useful

It was probably as a result of it being the fiftieth anniversary of Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech just recently, that I’ve spent some time this summer going over and reading and re-reading some of the great speeches that have been given throughout history. I’ve been fascinated by them. Just like the great, ”I Have a Dream” speech. Great oratory can speak to power. Great oratory can change peoples’ emotions, change the direction of a nation, start a movement, instill good. And when I analyze that speech, not from a literary point of view but from the point of view of oratory, it’s fascinating to realize that in total, from beginning to end, it was only 17 minutes long, a paltry piece of time in the history of the world. Yet in fact it’s not alone, either for its power or for its brevity. It is well known that the Gettysburg Address, when read out loud, takes about two minutes to read and there is 268 words on a word processor; that’s it, a speech that tilted a nation and set a course.

I’ve even been looking at one of the great speeches of Sir Winston Churchill in 1941, when he went back to his old school at Harrow and gave a speech. “Never give in,” he said.  That famous speech; it was three minutes long, that’s all: Such power. You’re probably thinking, “Andrew, if such powerful messages can be three minutes long, maybe your time is up right now.” But lest you think that, let me remind you that Winston Churchill’s great speech to the House of Commons in 1941 during the darkest days of the war, when he said those famous lines, “we will fight them on the beaches,” that speech was 37 minutes long and over 4,000 words. So I’ve got a little bit of leeway this morning, don’t I? Nonetheless, the truth is there, sometimes the shortest things are the most powerful. Sometimes those things that we seem to think are unimportant are in fact magnificent, because it is the spirit behind them and the power with them that make them great.

The same is true for our passage this morning from the Book of Philemon. It’s short, 20-odd verses, the shortest book in the New Testament. It is pithy, it is to the point, it only has one chapter, and that is the book. Yet for all its brevity, and for all its simplicity, it is powerful because it is a very direct book. It was written to a man called Philemon, who was a slave owner and a Christian. It was direct because Paul couldn’t speak to him in person, he could only speak to him through the written word, and so in a sense it’s a speech in many ways. It sounds like a sermon and yet it is a letter, a personal letter, directly for Philemon himself. Yet there’s a sense in which it’s a universal letter. He writes it and includes others in it. He knows that it is going to be a very publicly-distributed letter no doubt. He knew that in writing someone as powerful and as well known as Philemon, word would get out that he had written these words, and so even in their simplicity they’re going to have a great reach, and they’re going to touch many peoples’ lives. It was also profoundly theological. There are themes in this incredible little book that resonate with the Christian gospel and how one lives the Christian life, unlike anything else that Paul wrote, the shadow of the cross of Christ hovers over the Book of Philemon. Yet Philemon has had its detractors. There are those who have said that he really shouldn’t be in the Bible, because it doesn’t seem to address one of the key issues, namely slavery. Paul doesn’t go on about the problems and the social evils of slavery. He doesn’t try to change peoples’ opinions of slavery. If there is not a political manifesto in this book, and some people look to it and are disappointed that Paul didn’t use this opportunity to criticize slavery. Others have looked at it and said “there’s nothing new in here.” Unlike Romans and Galatians and Ephesians, it’s just a personal letter from one guy in prison to another guy who owns slaves, and there’s nothing really profound or new or deep within it. How misguided the critics are. They are misguided precisely because this book is radical and revolutionary. It is profound in its simplicity. It doesn’t need to say anything new. It is speaking about the truth of the Gospel. It doesn’t need to re-invent theology. It’s expressing the heart of the ministry of the Church of Jesus Christ. It is a book that has been written for all time. It is a book that has been written for you.

In the fourth century, the great Saint John Chrysostom, who was the Bishop of Constantinople, of Istanbul, said the following: “The Book of Philemon is the New Testament version of the story of Joseph in the Old Testament, and is worthy to be read.” In other words, Chrysostom had gone right to the heart of this. This, like the story of Joseph in the Book of Genesis, is a story of the power of God to bring people together and change them. It echoes with the same sentiment as the Prodigal Son, and the wonderful story told by Jesus. So, this book written by Paul, even if it’s short, even if it’s succinct, is powerful, revolutionary, radical. It goes right to the heart of what it means to be a Christian, and I can’t think of any book in all the canon of scripture that would encourage us as we come back to a new church year, to form us and to mould us and to shape us, as a Christian community, like the Book of Philemon. He’s writing it to you, and I want you to hear what it has to say, because I think it is one of the most powerful messages of all time. It is powerful because it says something profound about forgiveness.

The background to this story is very simple. The story is about a man called Onesimus, and Onesimus is a slave. Onesimus is probably in prison with Paul, but we’re not actually told that he was incarcerated with him. But during the time that Paul and Onesimus have met, Onesimus becomes a Christian. Paul is now writing a letter to Philemon. Philemon is also a Christian. But Philemon was a slave owner and a wealthy person, but a new member of the new movement of the Church of Jesus Christ. What Paul finds out is that Philemon, who he knew from his ministry, was the owner of Onesimus the Slave. And Onesimus is now in prison with him, and Paul writes a letter to Philemon imploring him to take back his slave. But not to take him back in an ordinary sense, but to receive him back in a revolutionary sense. Paul describes Onesimus as his son. Paul has built up a close relationship with Onesimus. He knows him and he loves him and he cares for him. And in writing to Philemon and calling him his son, he’s putting Onesimus on the same level as the Apostle Paul, and it was the Apostle Paul who brought Philemon to Christ. So, with all the weight behind the name Paul, he writes to Philemon and asks him to receive Onesimus. Then there’s a wonderful sort of twist of language. He says “he was once useless for you; now is he useful.” This is a play on words, because Onesimus means “useful.” Paul is playing with the language. He’s trying to engage Philemon. He’s trying to get him to see that in fact this slave, who he once owned and has now lost, can be in fact useful to him again if he will receive him back. But he is not to receive him back in the same way that he had treated him before. Things had changed. He was to receive him, as Paul says, “as someone from my own heart.” This is radical. Oh, those who say this is not a manifesto against slavery haven’t read the story. It was revolutionary: Paul, at a time when slaves were ubiquitous, when the vast majority of the citizens of the Roman Empire were incarcerated in the bounds and the bonds of slavery. It’s talk about setting Onesimus free, and reuniting him with the one who had formerly owned him. The great philosopher Aristotle had often said and written that God created slaves. Those slaves were meant to serve the enlightened and the rational, the sensible and the powerful and wealthy. It was part of the natural order that there would be slavery. Even a great intellect like Aristotle was cold-hearted enough to see slaves as being created by God to help other people. Even in the Mosaic Law, even in the Old Testament, slavery was endorsed. At times it was encouraged and glorified. Slavery was a big part of life and in Rome, at the time of Paul, slaves were chattel. They were put on blocks and they were bought and they were sold. They couldn’t be traded. If you bought a slave, you owned a slave for life. That slave was yours, to do with that slave as you pleased. You could treat them with impunity, you could beat them in punishment, you even had the right to kill them because they lived under your control as a slave owner. Paul writes to Philemon, and he says, “I want you now to receive this man back to you.” Paul was a revolutionary before there was a revolution. Paul was talking in personal terms about the power of what happens when someone becomes a Christian, and how having received them as a Christian, everything changes. Paul invested his heart in a slave, and put his own reputation on the line to convince Philemon, the owner, to receive him back.

This is a revolutionary concept today. When still throughout the world, men and women are bought and sold and traded when they’re moved around the world in ships, from one country to another. When people are still treated as chattel, where wives are owned, where people have a cold attitude towards those who they think are there to serve, a world that dehumanizes to the point that you can use chemical weapons against dear children and sit at a dining room table the next day with a smile on your face. In a world that is cold and brutal, and chillingly rational, Paul’s words about Onesimus are revolutionary.

The power of the Christian faith and the power of the Christian message of forgiveness is a power unlike the powers of this earth, and of this world. Philemon shows it to us. In a world that is sometimes very cruel, where young people are bullied in a cyber-world, where young women are raped in the streets of some countries, where people are dismissed as if they were chattel rather than embraced. Paul’s words in Philemon are revolutionary.

If the Church of Jesus Christ in this cold world stands for anything, it stands for Onesimus. It writes its letter to the world, dominated by Philemons, and says “with our heart, forgive and to take back.” Even in the water coolers in our corporations, even in the lineups of our Starbucks, I’ve heard people enjoying, delighting in the fall of other people and their mistakes. Joyfully, almost gleefully delighting, in people having been caught making mistakes. Oh, what a cruel, cruel world we sometimes live in. The words of Paul to Onesimus, “I want you to take him back as a brother” are revolutionary. This book might be short, but it says something powerful about the paying of debts. Paul lived his whole life, once he became a Christian, knowing that he was someone who had been forgiven and a debt had been paid. He wrote in the Book of Romans these incredible worlds, “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” The debt was paid, the forgiveness was given. The shadow of the cross hung over Paul’s life.

He writes to Philemon and he says “look, if Onesimus has taken money from you, if he has done anything wrong, charge it to my account. Let me pay for it; you don’t have to pay for it. I’ll take care of the debt.” We’re not told what the problem was. We don’t know what Onesimus did wrong. We’re not given an insight into the transactions between Philemon and Onesimus. All we know is that Paul says “charge it to my account; let me pay the price for the freedom of Onesimus.” And Paul also knew that sitting in prison, he was hardly going to be able to pay up. He knew that Philemon would have to accept the plea as a Brother in Christ. He appeals to Philemon as a man of good repute, as a Christian. Let the debt be paid. Let Onesimus come to you as a brother.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a farewell gathering for someone who has led one of the best shelters for the homeless in Toronto over the last few years. He’s spoken at this church and he’s a wonderful friend of mine. I went down to this farewell I think expecting to see some of the leaders of the city, some of the scholars, some of the academics, some of the leading pastors, and I went to the reception, and I was astonished with what I saw. Because yes indeed, some of those people were at this gathering, but so were some of those that were homeless and still living in the shelter at night. Then I came upon one particularly impressive young man. We entered into a conversation, and I asked him what he was doing there and how he knew the person that we were recognizing. He said, “Well actually, I am a volunteer here now.” And his face lit up. He said “in fact I think I might just become the head of the volunteers around here.” His chest sort of puffed up. Then he told me that for ten years he’d been one of the homeless who had gone there to have a meal and a bed. I asked him what changed. How do you get from there to here? He didn’t say much. He actually didn’t know quite what to say. But he just turned towards a little area in the room where they have their Wednesday services and he looked at the communion table, and he looked at the cross on the communion table, and he pointed to the cross. He says “that’s why, that’s why.” This man had understood in his soul, you see, that he wanted to give something back for what had been given to him. What had been given him was a debt that had been paid and he knew it. What he wanted to give back was to the Lord who had accepted him, probably when many others didn’t. What he wanted was to use the freedom that he had now been given as a Christian to help others find that same freedom. What he was doing was re-paying the grace and the kindness that he had received. Is that not what Paul did with Onesimus and Philemon? He was willing to pay the price for Onesimus to be free and asks Philemon to receive him as a brother. My, does this say something about fellowship. You know you can talk all you want about fellowship and what a nice idea it is. It’s not an idea. Fellowship’s never been an idea. Fellowship is something that is real. It is concrete. It is profound and it is revolutionary.

Paul brought these two characters, Philemon and Onesimus, together, and he put himself in the middle. He wanted them to receive one another as brothers in Christ. No longer as owner and slave, no longer as those who are free and those who are imprisoned, but rather as those who are in Christ. Now they are in Christ. They are new people. Because they’re new people, they related to one another differently. Fellowship is the relating to one another as Christ would have us relate to one another. There is the revolutionary power of the fellowship of the Christian faith. There is the power of the Book of Philemon.

It is fair enough to say that there are two ways in which a person can be moved to do good. They can be moved to do good out of a sense of duty, or a sense of honour, or sense of obligation, out of a sense of just right and wrong. There’s nothing wrong with duty. Duty is a high good. Duty is a noble thing. Duty is our responsibility for the other. But Paul knew that he wanted Philemon to reach beyond duty, to love. He wanted him to love Onesimus. He wanted him to love with his whole heart, to receive him overwhelmingly and generously, beyond the give and take of what had been owed or not. He wanted to receive him in such a way that he was receiving a child of God.

Some years ago I taught a course on preaching, and there was dear student in my class who had a tendency to get carried away, and she was asked to preach a sermon on the Book of Philemon. I’ve never forgotten it. When she got carried away in this preaching about Philemon, she said, “You know,” I think that the Apostle Paul had Huckleberry Finn and Jim in mind when he wrote this.” Umm, really? I’m sure Mark Twain would be delighted to know he existed before Paul, but I know what she was getting at. She was getting at that there was something in even a book like Huckleberry Finn that sounds like Philemon. I’ve been reading Huck Finn again, particularly with all these movies about slavery right now, and subservience and so on, that are very popular. What an incredible book it is, isn’t it? I mean, how Huck sort of adopts Jim and Jim becomes his friend and Huck is the one white person that Jim trusts. It’s an incredible story of ebb and flow and up and down and adventure and misadventure and mistakes. It’s classic Mark Twain. But there’s a moment when Jim understands and realizes what Huck has done for him, and please excuse my complete debauching of an American Southern accent. But this is what Jim said. “Pretty soon, I’ll be-a shoutin’ for joy, and I’ll say it’s all on account-a Huck. I’se a free man! And I couldn’t-a been free if it hadn’t been for Huck. Huck done it. Jim won’t ever forget it. Huck, you’s the best friend Jim ever had, and you’s the only friend ol’ Jim’s got now.” Here was a moment of real love. Of real recognition that Huck had set him free. No matter his status, no matter where he was in this life, no matter who owned him or if he’d been set free, it was that relationship which changed him. And it was that relationship that Paul wanted Philemon to have with Onesimus. He wanted him to come back to him with his heart, with his heart.

May this sometimes rational and cold world be softened with the gospel of Jesus Christ. And may the church speak with power and conviction these short and simple words from Philemon, for indeed, they are the message of the Gospel. They are the hope of forgiveness. They are the debt that has been paid. They are the fellowships that are real. They are of Christ.
Amen.