Postcards from the Past:
Finding Freedom in Grace
Scripture Reading: Philemon 1-25
The aging rabbi stood,
his loose-fitting Jewish garb
flapping lightly in the breeze that blew
through his spacious, Roman-style living quarters.
His back was turned toward the dark-haired man
who sat at the desk,
reed pen in hand,
poised, ready to write.
Several feet from the silent rabbi
stood a Roman soldier,
joined to him by the length of a long chain . . .
And, on the edge of a rectangular Roman couch opposite the desk,
sat the youngest in the quartet of men,
a runaway slave named Onesimus,
who months ago had used money stolen
from his master Philemon
to escape to Rome,
putting half the civilized world between them
in his quest for freedom.
Finally, after a lengthy silence,
the rabbi turned,
nodded to the man at the desk and,
as he saw the scribe dip his pen in the ink,
began the letter he’d been pondering.
[Clear throat]
“Paul, an apostle---”
He stopped suddenly, shook his head.
“No,” he said, waving his hand at his young scribe.
“Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and,”
he continued, smiling at the scribe,
“Timothy our brother,
To Philemon our dear friend and fellow worker, to Apphia our sister, to Archippus our fellow soldier and to the church that meets in your home.”
The man sitting on the couch stared at the floor, his thoughts going back to that home,
half a world away in Colosse . . .
To Philemon, the gray-haired man of means
whose slave Onesimus had been . . .
a fair man,
a good man, even . . .
though Onesimus had never had time to notice his master’s good qualities--
he had been too filled with hatred,
too busy cursing his fate in life,
unable to accept being any man’s slave.
And there was Apphia,
the lovely lady of the house,
and Archippus, Philemon’s son, who had become a sort of pastor of the Colossian church.
The young man’s reminiscing had occupied only a few moments, long enough for Paul to dictate his customary greeting:
“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”
And then, Onesimus watched as Paul, fixing his eyes at a point in the ceiling, began speaking again:
“I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, because I hear about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints,”
he said, quickly glancing at Onesimus as he emphasized the word “all.”
“I pray,” Paul continued, “that you may be active in sharing your faith, so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ.”
As he spoke the words to the distant man of Colosse, Paul’s mind went back to his first meeting with Philemon, thousands of miles from where he stood now.
He remembered their encounter in--oh, now, where was it? He couldn’t remember, but it was not in Colosse, Paul knew that; he’d never been to that city, and he remembered that Philemon had been traveling away from home.
But the Apostle recalled that
Philemon had grasped the Gospel
like a drowning man grips a rope.
And he warmly recalled having heard that Philemon had returned to his home and quickly introduced his wife and son to the living Christ.
It was on a later journey when Paul finally met Apphia and Archippus, when Philemon had dragged them away from home just to meet the tentmaker who’d told him of Christ.
With a half-smile prompted by these thoughts,
Paul turned his head toward the man at the desk
and resumed dictating:
“Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.”
Then, having prepared the soil
for the seed about to be sown,
the pacing Apostle
gave a confident nod to the listening Onesimus,
filled his lungs with air,
and raised his voice slightly to say,
“Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I appeal to you on the basis of love. I then, as Paul-- an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus--”
Onesimus watched, fascinated,
thinking he detected a little melodrama in Paul’s voice, but that wouldn’t come across in the letter...
“I appeal to you,” Paul said, “for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains.”
Onesimus noticed that the Apostle moved his foot slightly as he referred to his chains.
They really weren’t that noticeable most of the time. Paul seemed to be used to them, having been under house arrest now for some time, as he moved about the simple house with ease, though always with a Roman soldier a few steps away.
Onesimus thought about how HE would have fought those chains a short time ago.
He remembered how, the night of his escape,
he expected that the moment he made it out of the Lycus Valley,
the moment he got a safe distance from Colosse, he’d feel a rush of relief,
a sudden peace,
the kind that he thought must belong to freemen.
But he’d quickly discovered
that he wasn’t really free.
All the way from Colosse to Rome,
he waited to be arrested,
he searched every face for a sign of recognition,
a hint of danger.
He learned to walk in the shadows,
he learned how to melt into the crowds that thronged the streets of Rome,
how to live as a slave
to the fear of getting caught.
The young man continued to reminisce
as Paul employed a play on words,
referring to Onesimus,
whose Greek name meant “useful,” saying,
“Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.”
It was in Rome that Onesimus met Paul,
and soon afterward, met Christ.
From that point on,
all the energy the young slave had previously spent on resisting, rebelling, and running,
had been turned to serving God
and helping Paul in his ministry.
And, as the new convert learned,
and grew in grace,
he knew that, to fully repent of his sin,
he had to return to his master
and seek his forgiveness.
And so Paul was helping him do just that,
as he dictated to Timothy,
“I am sending him--who is my very heart- back to you.”
Of course, Onesimus and Paul both knew what that might mean.
They knew that a slave was not a person in that
day and age; he was a living tool.
They knew that,
according to law and custom,
a runaway slave could be beaten with a rod
or whipped until his back was like raw meat;
he could be branded on the forehead with a hot iron,
or even crucified.
Every man in that room
knew the stakes,
the danger.
So, with a diplomacy that had been polished with years of practice,
in Jerusalem,
in Philippi,
in Ephesus,
Paul continued,
“I would have liked to keep him with me so that he could take your place in helping me while I am in chains for the gospel. But I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that any favor you do will be spontaneous and not forced. Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while--”
Paul felt he had to choose his words carefully
while referring to Onesimus’s escape--
“was that you might have him back for good-- no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother. He is very dear to me but even dearer to you, both as a man and as a brother in the Lord.”
Paul paused for a moment and cleared his throat.
After gazing at Onesimus for some time,
he raised his eyebrows,
and with one hand stroking his beard, asked,
“What do you think?”
Onesimus smiled weakly,
but his fear was evident in his eyes.
Paul smiled back,
then whirled,
pointed at the parchment
over Timothy’s shoulder,
and continued, a little louder still:
“So,” he said, “if you consider me a partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me.”
And then, as Timothy finished writing Paul’s words in careful Greek,
the Apostle shouldered the young scribe aside and,
with emphatic strokes,
wrote as he spoke aloud,
“I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand. I will pay it back--not to mention that you owe me your very self.”
He stopped writing as abruptly as he had begun as,
with tears in his eyes,
he surrendered the pen to Timothy and said,
softly,
“I do wish, brother, that I may have some . . . benefit--” he said, employing the root of the word from which Onesimus’s name was formed-- “some benefit from you in the Lord; refresh my heart in Christ. Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask.”
Paul turned his gaze toward the ceiling again,
and stroked his mustache and beard for a long, silent pause.
Finally, he turned to Timothy
and asked what his last words had been.
Timothy read them and Paul,
apparently satisfied,
spoke so rapidly
that Timothy had to
race to keep up.
“And one thing more: Prepare a guest room for me, because I hope to be restored to you in answer to your prayers.
Epaphras, my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends you greetings. And so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas and Luke, my fellow workers.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.”
Paul looked at Onesimus when he finished. . .
Onesimus looked at Paul.
And Paul, as if reading the slave’s mind, said,
“He will forgive.
He will forgive.”
Paul embraced his young disciple,
and, after the custom of that time and place,
kissed him.
When he released his embrace,
there were tears in his eyes again,
and his voice quivered slightly when he said,
“Greet Philemon, your brother in Christ, for me.”
Onesimus made the journey to Colosse
with another companion of Paul named Tychicus,
and they carried with them not only this one-page letter to Philemon but also the letter to the church that met in Philemon’s home,
which you’ll find in your Bible under the title,
“Colossians.”
That, my friends,
is how I picture the writing of the tiny
New Testament book of Philemon,
the “postcard from the past”
which we study today.
I call it a postcard
because--like the other two books we’ll study
the next two weeks--
it’s just the right length to fit
on a single sheet of parchment.
Good morning. My name is Bob Hostetler,
and I want to welcome you all
to Cobblestone Community Church,
a new church that’s been created with you in mind, a place where you can sip coffee among friends,
kick your shoes off if you feel like it,
and encounter God and his Word, the Bible,
in a way that’s enjoyable,
non-threatening,
and relevant to your life.
So, please, make yourselves at home . . .
because you are.
Now, if you haven’t already opened your Bible,
let me ask you to do that
as we spend just a few final moments
in this tiny letter to a man named Philemon.
If you didn’t happen to bring a Bible with you this morning, that’s okay, we’ve provided some for you either under every few chairs
or by the railing on your way in . . .
You’ll find it on p. 828 in the free Bibles we supply, and which we intend for you to take home with you if you don’t already have a Bible of your own you can understand and maybe even mark up a little bit.
Now, I know that time is quickly passing,
but don’t worry, I planned for that.
I wanted to use the majority of my time before you
this morning to more or less “paint the picture”
of this fascinating story that too often gets passed over as we turn the pages of our Bibles.
I just want to take a few minutes
to point out a few things
which I believe God wants to impress upon us
this morning from this “Postcard from the Past.”
So, let me point out to you, first:
1. Paul’s Emphasis
There’s something that I think is very cool
going on in this little postcard from Rome.
After the greeting,
which we split up in our letters today, putting
“Dear Aunt Esmerelda”
at the beginning and,
“Hugs and kisses, your snuggle-bunny, Bob,”
at the end,
letter writers in Paul’s day put ‘em both together at the beginning of a letter, which is what Paul does, as you’ll see in verses 1 and 2.
But after that,
I want you to notice what he does. . .
BUT FIRST, let me point out that in ancient Greek,
as in many languages today,
the order of a sentence didn’t have to be
subject-verb-object,
as in “Henry smells funny.”
Instead, you could emphasize an important word or thought by placing it first in a sentence. . . .
which I believe Paul could be doing at both
the beginning and end of this letter.
Look at verse 3. Paul writes to Philemon,
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (Philemon 3, NIV).
And then look at the last verse of this letter, verse 25:
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit (Philemon 25, NIV).
Now, Paul did that in many of his letters,
not just Philemon,
but in this case,
it just happens to be incredibly appropriate, because THAT is Paul’s theme, his emphasis:
GRACE.
The whole purpose of his letter to Philemon
is to encourage an attitude of grace,
which, by the way, is the exact attitude
that ought to characterize and dominate
our relationships with each other.
And, in writing this letter, Paul provides us not only with the right emphasis for us
--as individuals,
as a church,
as parents,
as bosses--
but also with a gracious example.
2. Paul’s Example
If you look closely at this letter, you’ll see that Paul spends roughly 16 verses preparing the soil,
laying the groundwork for what he really wants to say. But when he finally does, I want you to notice how he does it.
Look at verses 17-19:
So if you consider me a partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand. I will pay it back--not to mention that you owe me your very self (Philemon 17-19, NIV).
Paul appeals to Philemon on the basis of their partnership, their friendship. But the thing I want to stress most to you is his Christlike attitude: “If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me.”
In the movie, The Last Emperor, there’s a scene in which the young child who has been anointed as the last emperor is asked,
“What happens when you do wrong?”
“When I do wrong,” the boy emperor replies, “someone else is punished.”
You know what? Men and women, that’s you.
That’s me.
That’s Paul.
That’s Philemon.
Someone ELSE was punished for our wrongs . . .
That’s grace.
And yet we so often insist that other people pay--
and pay dearly-- for the wrongs they’ve done us.
We ought instead to follow Paul’s example--
which is Jesus’ example--
and be willing to model the kind of grace
that we ourselves have received.
So, we can learn from Paul’s emphasis,
we can follow Paul’s example,
and finally, I would suggest
that, as individuals and as a group, as a church,
we strive to fulfill . . .
3. Paul’s Entreaty
Look with me, finally, to verses 20 and 21. Paul writes,
I do wish, brother, that I may have some benefit from you in the Lord; refresh my heart in Christ. Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask (Philemon 20-21, NIV).
Men and women,
brothers and sisters,
I can’t emphasize enough
that this is what grace does:
it refreshes the heart.
We don’t know whether Philemon granted Paul’s request or not.
If he wrote a letter in response, it’s gone now.
There’s no official record.
But I tend to think that Philemon,
who had received grace from God,
extended that same grace to his former slave,
accepting him as a brother in Christ.
And guess what?
It just so happens that we do know,
through the writings of a man named Ignatius,
that about 45 years after Paul wrote Philemon,
the leader of the church at Ephesus
was a man named . . . Onesimus.
We don’t know for sure,
but many scholars think it was the former slave.
But if he did--
if Philemon did receive Onesimus
and forgive him
and maybe employ him
in some capacity,
he not only would have refreshed Paul’s heart,
but God’s--
and his own, as a matter of fact.
Because that’s what grace does.
it refreshes the heart.
So . . .
Would you like to refresh your heart this morning?
Would you like to experience a “time of refreshing” in your spirit?
Let me suggest very briefly just a few ways that you can invite that kind of refreshment,
and they’re right outta the words of Paul’s little postcard from the past. First,
• experience the grace of God
Paul began and ended this letter with reference to the grace of God, and I would say to you, if you haven’t yet tasted the loving, forgiving, sin-removing grace of God in your life, you can do that before you leave here this morning, and I urge you to do it by simply calling out to God in prayer, and if you need help with that, there will be prayer counselors available here at the front and throughout the auditeria wearing bright green name tags to pray with you and offer any spiritual guidance you may need today.
Secondly,
• extend grace to others
Paul urged Philemon to accept Onesimus as “no longer a slave, but . . . as a dear brother.” I want all of us here, as individuals and as a church, to treat each other with grace, and not judgment or condemnation.
Oh, please, brothers and sisters, let’s extend grace to each other. If your sister has hurt you, forgive. If your brother does things differently from you, forbear. If someone isn’t quite meeting your expectations, forget your expectations, and extend grace.
Now, I’m not talking about enabling unhealthy habits or encouraging sinful behavior; I’m talking about giving people grace instead of the grief we usually dole out -and that’s especially true of us “church people”--and you know who you are!
So, experience God’s grace, extend grace to others, and finally,
• expect the refreshing that grace brings
Just as Paul said to Philemon, “I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask” so you and I, when we begin to walk in the grace of God, and grace toward other people, we should keep our eyes wide open, because our hearts will be refreshed. Our relationships will change, our spiritual, physical, and emotional health will be restored, and we’ll get so hooked on grace we won’t be able to get--or give--enough of it.
Let’s pray:
