The Burden And Blessing Of Forgiving Others

To be sure, these three brothers are very different. One is Jew by birth, trained as Pharisee, now an apostle of the risen Christ—and a prisoner of the emperor in Rome. Another brother is a Gentile by birth, a former pagan, wealthy, and now a leader in the Christian church. The third is also a Gentile, but the lowest of the low: a slave, a runaway, even a criminal. But he’s also a believer. These three men are very different from each other, but there’s a precious bond between them. Faith in Christ unites them. Redemption from sin gives them something amazing in common. The gospel makes these three “strangers” into brothers.

Paul makes that explicit in verses 15-16, “Perhaps the reason [Onesimus] was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back for good—no longer as a slave but better than a slave, as a dear brother.” Something fundamental has changed in his position. He’s no longer a slave, but a brother! When we look at Scripture, this is a core teaching, like in Galatians 3, where Paul writes, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” That’s the theory (in Galatians), now this is the practice (in Philemon): “You are all one in Christ Jesus.”

And the very same truth needs applying today. Today we might be very different from each other. Different personalities and varied opinions. Diverse gifts and positions on this earth. Different histories. Sometimes difficult histories, and sad tales to tell. But there’s a bond in Christ that we share. It’s not just the bond of attending the same church, and chatting afterwards over coffee. It’s a bond that transcends all other differences. We can receive each other, no longer as strangers, “but as dear brothers!” Not as rivals, but friends! Not as enemies, but as family.

It’s easy to say, but it doesn’t always go like this. We could greet one another on the parking lot outside, yet isn’t it true that there can be an undertone to our thoughts? “I’m glad that I’m better than this person—after all, he’s uneducated, or less well-off. She’s socially awkward and out of style.” Or we just remember the mistakes that a person made, and we’d rather steer clear: we’re not sure what to say. You might not see it, but there’s a wall between you.

But there’s no reason for it. A Christian ought to know he’s nothing but a sinner—so how can he look down on others, or exclude them? A Christian should know he’s received everything by grace—so how can he withhold kindness from anyone? We ought to be loving, having received love. We ought to be patient, having experienced God’s great patience.

That’s the gospel at work. When you believe in the gospel, it’s never just an individual experience, a private event. It’s something to be enjoyed in common with others, in the communion of the Spirit. That’s why Onesimus went to visit Paul in prison. And that’s why Paul expects Philemon to accept his runaway slave. Because the gospel’s able to bring people together, not only Jew and Gentile, but also slave and master. And those two brothers who’ve long had a disagreement. And that family that’s been divided. And that husband and wife who hardly know each other anymore. The gospel can bring them back as one.