13th Sunday after Pentecost Sermon

This morning I’d like us to look at Paul’s letter to Philemon. I suspect for many of you, you’ve never even heard of it in your life, little lone read it. In fact, maybe you weren’t even listening while it was just being read. But what we heard was the entire epistle, beginning to end, just twenty-one verses.

Like all Paul’s letters, it was written to a specific community for a specific reason. And, like all Paul’s letters we still have, people thought the contents of this one-off letter were worth sharing. So it got copied and distributed so often that it ended up being included in what we now know as the Bible.

Presumably, Paul wrote other letters that never ended up in circulation. So what was it about this letter that made it noteworthy? Well, in a word: slavery! That’s what this letter’s dealing with.

So let’s start with a little history: the form of slavery we’re dealing with in the Roman empire didn’t look the same as what we experienced in US history. To begin with, it wasn’t racially based at all. And, although slavery could (and often did) involve menial labor, it was by no means restricted to that class of labor; a slave could hold an important role in a household or business as a manager or a highly skilled teacher or tradesperson. A slave could even own their own property, including other slaves. They could maintain a family. A person would often choose to sell themselves into slavery as an expedient means of securing financial stability. And slavery was almost never a permanent condition. Most slaves could expect to be freed by the age of thirty, whereupon they would often receive Roman citizenship.

So when we talk about slavery in the Roman Empire, it was a very different structure from what we typically imagine. But that being said, it was slavery. It was one human owning another human. And though Roman law regarded them as “human,” their rights were distinctly less than those of free people. And the economy of the empire was entirely dependent on this economy of slavery. In larger cities, as much as a third of the population were slaves. And, because it was such an entrenched part of the culture, it’s highly likely that in the early church, slave ownership was also quite common. When “households” are mentioned in the New Testament, it’s not just parents and children that are being referred to. Slaves were part of the household.

And within this cultural context comes Paul’s letter to Philemon. Philemon was a Christian of some significance. There was a church, after all, that met in his house. And Philemon was a slave owner. We don’t know how many slaves he had. One, anyway. And his name was Onesimus, which means, “Useful.” We can assume he’d been born into slavery. It was, after all, a common name for a slave: what is your worth? Your usefulness to me.

And from this letter a few facts are very clear:

• Paul is in prison. (We don’t know where.)
• Onesimus has been caring for Paul while he’s imprisoned. And during that time the two of them have become very close. Like father and son.
• And now Paul is sending Onesimus back to Philemon, his owner, with a letter (the letter we just hear) with its appeal to set Onesimus free.

Now, this may raise some questions for you: how is it that Onesimus came to be in Paul’s service if he was Philemon’s slave? There are a couple theories, but the most likely is that Philemon sent his slave to Paul for this very reason: “You’re in prison. You need caring for. You are the apostle Paul, after all. So as a faithful Christian, with the means to care for you, it would be my honor to be send Onesimus for this purpose.” He, or the church that met in his house, might even have sent him with a wad of money to help provide for Paul’s needs.

Now remember, even though it’s unsettling for us to imagine a Christian owning a slave and sending him off to do this, there was no stigma about owning a slave in that culture, even in the church. Everything was normal and respectable for Philemon, until…

…Onesimus reappears at Philemon’s house bearing this letter, not just to him privately, but to several people, including the entire church that met in his house. And in it, the apostle calls Philemon out, very publicly, to set Onesiums free.

Now, I’ve never lived in the Roman empire; I’m not conversant in social norms of how things like this were handled back then. But I am fairly conversant with the Bible, and I can tell you – as manipulative and arrogant and domineering as Paul can be – he’s at the top of his game in this letter. It’s dripping throughout, with scarcely concealed intent. Just listen to portions of this letter again. I’m not adding any language to the text, just emphasis:

Though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love– and I, Paul, do this as an old man, and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. Formerly he was useless to you, (remember, his name means “Useful), but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me. I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. I wanted to keep him with me, so that he might be of service to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel; but I preferred to do nothing without your consent, in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced….

So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has wronged you in any way, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it. I say nothing about your owing me even your own self. Yes, brother, let me have this benefit from you in the Lord! Refresh my heart in Christ. Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say.

In modern terminology, let’s just name this for what it is: Paul is being totally passive aggressive, like the worst caricature of some overbearing mother. Even though he’s giving Philemon the option to set him free or not, what option did he really have? Not only was the letter read in front of the whole church, we know from elsewhere that on his way home Onesimus made a stop at the church in Colossae; so most likely that whole community also knew what the Apostle Paul expected Philemon to do.

But you know what? Apart from the whole spectacle of Paul’s manipulative behavior here, the truly noteworthy part of the whole thing is that, in his way, Paul is challenging the whole social order of the Roman empire. But the way he’s doing it is within the church.

Paul clearly perceived the church to exist as a different reality within the world in which they lived. It was the place where the Kingdom of God was being made manifest in this world.

What Paul was doing was ground-shaking. But he wasn’t just laying down a new ethical code that had to be obeyed (as arm-twisting as his letter was). He was saying, “It is your choice whether you do this or not. But let me be clear what’s meant by this choice: Not only should you set him free (because it’s the right thing to do), you must then welcome him as a brother.”

This is the Kingdom of God Paul is preaching. This is the standard he’s pointing to: In Christ, all sense of privilege and social rank is over. As Christ is one with God the Father, so Christ is one with us, and we are one with one another. There is no other way. There is no status of privilege in the church, except the dignity of our mutuality as siblings with one another and Christ himself.

And this remains true. We, in the church now can live this new reality. We must.

It’s not to say we shouldn’t pursue justice in the world. Of course we should. But whereas we will know boundaries and limitations and endless frustrations in trying to change the whole social order (!) we actually can live and can experience this different Kingdom of God reality within the church.

After all, we do share the same aspirations to be like Jesus – to practice hospitality and generosity, forgiveness and reconciliation, love of neighbor and care for those suffering. And in a small little community like this, every act of grace can make a discernable difference to the whole.

Now, we don’t have slavery in the church. Thank God. And it’s a point of pride for me, that although there are some very wealthy people at St. John’s, and some very poor, on any given Sunday you’d be hard-pressed to see or the feel the distinction. But like any church, we can certainly grow in this deeper spirit of regarding one another as our sisters and brothers.

What appeals to me with this familial language is the recognition that – like in the families we were raised in – our sisters and brothers aren’t necessarily our best friends. It’s nice when that’s the case, but there’s no guarantee. Rather, they’re simply “my family.” I didn’t have a choice in who they would be, but they are mine, and I am theirs. And – even in estrangement – there remains a certain bond which makes us one for the whole of our lives. Which means for me, their well-being matters to me; their children’s well-being matters to me; and that seeing them and continuing to discover who they truly are, is my lifelong desire.

And so in the family of God, we don’t choose who our brothers and sisters will be. They are given us. And it is our choice to receive them as such. Now, the ease and the pleasurability of how these relationships develop will vary. Of course they will. And that’s okay. But what’s not okay, is to dismiss one another as “not our concern.”

We are one another’s concern. We are the body of Christ enfleshed for one another: believing in each other’s worthiness, meeting each other as we are, desiring one another’s good, and joined in purpose to be the Kingdom of God where love reigns, in and for this world.