September 5, 2021: Move the Needle
Philemon 1-25
Rev. Rhonda Blevins
Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother,
To Philemon our dear friend and co-worker, to Apphia our sister, to Archippus our fellow soldier, and to the church in your house:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
When I remember you in my prayers, I always thank my God because I hear of your love for all the saints and your faith toward the Lord Jesus. I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective when you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ. I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother.
For this reason, 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, 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. Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.
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.
One thing more—prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping through your prayers to be restored to you.
Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends greetings to you, and so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke, my fellow workers.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.
_____
It’s not often we read an entire book of the Bible together on a Sunday morning, but the book of Philemon is one of the shortest books of the Bible, weighing in at a mere 460 English words in our translation. As you likely know, many of the 27 books of the New Testament are letters, several of them attributed to the apostle Paul. Such is the case with this letter to Philemon.
In this letter, Paul and co-author Timothy are writing from prison to a man named Philemon who (like Lydia last week) was the likely leader of the church at Colossae—a house church that met at Philemon’s home. Philemon and his wife, Apphia, were people of means with a home large enough to host the gathered community. They also had slaves, which was common in the day—roughly a third of people in the Roman empire were slaves.
Apparently one of Philemon’s slaves ran away—his name, Onesimus. It is speculated that Onesimus was caught and thrown in prison where he met—you guessed it—Paul and Timothy. They won Onesimus to the faith, and in turn, Onesimus won their hearts.
Because Onesimus won their hearts, Paul writes a letter on his behalf—a letter Onesimus will carry with him as he returns to Colossae and Philemon’s house. We aren’t given too many details about how or why Onesimus is going back to Colossae. Some suggest that Paul sends Onesimus, but I don’t buy this take. Paul is in prison with zero authority to transport another prisoner. To me it makes far more sense that the authorities are returning this runaway slave to his master. Knowing that his beloved Onesimus is being returned to Philemon, Paul’s friend and Onesimus’ owner, Paul puts pen to paper and writes a letter that Onesimus will deliver to his master upon return.
Now, here’s what will normally happen upon a slave being returned to his master in the Roman empire: he will be punished, beaten, executed, or all three. It’s all perfectly legal for Philemon according to Roman law (written by slaveholders, naturally). So Philemon has the authority to beat Onesimus, to kill Onesimus, but he also has the authority to set Onesimus free. Paul is writing with one goal in mind: to persuade Philemon to accept Onesimus, not as a slave, but as a brother. Paul wants Philemon to set Onesimus free.
Paul goes to great lengths to make sure Philemon knows his letter is an appeal, not a command. Paul appeals to Philemon’s heart. It’s like a parent saying to a teenager: “I’m not going to tell you what to do here—I believe in you. I know you’ll do the right thing.” The parent trying not just to produce an obedient robot, but to instill character.
Here’s a chance for Philemon to grow in the way of discipleship. The cultural norms would have been for Philemon to save face and to make Onesimus suffer. But when has the Christian faith been about following cultural norms? The faith response is the countercultural way. “Philemon, the Christian thing to do here would be to set Onesimus free. I’m not telling you what to do here. I know you’ll do the right thing.” Paul hopes to “move the needle” in Philemon’s heart toward mercy, reconciliation, and redemption.
We have no idea what happened with Philemon and Onesimus after Onesimus delivered the letter. But we do know what has happened with this letter. It became part of the New Testament canon. It became a favorite letter of American slaveholders to defend the institution of slavery, suggesting that Paul sent the slave back to his master.
Those opposed to slavery wish that Paul had denounced the institution of chattel slavery, which he did not. But I wonder, how much good would that have done in the first century Roman empire? Paul’s expressed purpose was that Philemon set Onesimus free, to accept him not as a slave but as a brother. There is a strong chance that his request will be granted, that this one slave will be set free. There was zero chance that he could eradicate slavery with this one letter to Philemon.
So Paul did what he could do. He could not eradicate slavery with one letter, but believing he could move the needle for one slave with one letter, that’s what he set out to do. “Set Onesimus free, Philemon. He is a brother.”
When we think about problems so big, systems so entrenched that there’s nothing we can do, it’s good to remember the story of the starfish:
One day, an old man was walking along a beach that was littered with thousands of starfish that had been washed ashore by the high tide. As he walked he came upon a young boy who was eagerly throwing the starfish back into the ocean, one by one.
Puzzled, the man looked at the boy and asked what he was doing. Without looking up from his task, the boy simply replied, “I’m saving these starfish, Sir”.
The old man chuckled aloud, “Son, there are thousands of starfish and only one of you. What difference can you make?”
The boy picked up a starfish, gently tossed it into the water and turning to the man, said, “I made a difference to that one!”
Paul couldn’t free thousands of slaves, but he just might be able to free one . . . his friend, Onesimus.
In other letters Paul offers a broader take:
In Paul’s letter to the church in Galatia: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)
In Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth: “For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Corinthians 12:13)
In Paul’s letter to the church in Colossae—the very church that met in Philemon’s home: “There is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!” (Colossians 3:11)
Here’s the deal: Christ-followers in every age find themselves living in the midst of unjust systems—systems that oppress and marginalize—systems that prop up the strong on the backs of the weak. Sometimes it seems that the problem is so big, so complex, so ingrained—how could we ever make a difference? It can be tempting to throw resigned hands up in the air and hope our children or our children’s children can create a more just world. Realistically, changing unjust systems often takes decades, even centuries.
But my friends, God doesn’t expect that we break the gauge, only that we move the needle.
Paul couldn’t eradicate slavery in the Roman empire, but he might be able to set one slave free. So he did what he knew how to do: he knew how to write letters. “Set Onesimus free, Philemon. He is a brother. Oh, and by the way, prepare a guest room for me.” In other words, I’m going to come check out the situation when I get out of prison.
Now, we don’t know what happened with Philemon and Onesimus. That part of the story is lost to us. But I do know what happened next in the starfish story originally penned by Loren Eiseley in 1969—this part of the story is not often shared:
After seeing the young man throwing starfish in the sea, the older man moved along. Late for work, he smiled as he anticipated sharing this quirky story with colleagues. But the boy persisted. Hour after hour, in the hot sun, he gently tossed starfish into the water.
By late morning, more people had noticed the boy and several stopped to help him. First it was another child and her mother. Then a second family, and soon a small crowd was spreading across the beach, carefully picking up starfish and returning them to the sea.
By midday, the crowd was big enough to attract attention. Someone brought snacks and water for the volunteers. Someone called a friend at a news station, and a reporter arrived with a camera. A short “human interest” story aired that afternoon, and was seen by a local marine biologist and a member of the city council.
The two met at the beach. By then it was late in the day, and they saw dozens of people still saving starfish. The marine biologist had ideas for how they could prevent so many starfish being stranded on the beach in the future. The council member asked him to send a proposal. With elections coming up, something like this could help him. And thus the town’s “Save the Starfish” program was born, ultimately inspiring other towns to create similar programs across the country.[1]
This summer, we’ve taken a look at some of the faces of our faith—lesser-known characters and stories from the Bible. We created a mobile made of seashells, a beautiful mobile with names of your parents and pastors and grandparents and Sunday school teachers and friends and authors. As we think about all these individuals, they probably didn’t think much about their small acts of faithfulness . . . they were just throwing starfish into the sea one at a time. Maybe you were one of those starfish—their small act made a difference in your life.
So now it’s your turn.
All summer we’ve been thinking about faces of our faith “out there”—people from the Bible or special people in our lives who made an impact on us. Today that changes. Today we recognize that we are the faces of faith for the world. We can’t just walk down a beach filled with dying starfish and not join the boy working to make a difference. We must do what we can, where we are to help. And if enough of us do that, we can affect change. We must affect change!
Paul knew how to wield a quill, so he wrote a letter. The boy knew how to use his arm, so he threw starfish back in the ocean. The marine biologist knew how to prevent future starfish disasters and shared his knowledge with a city council representative who knew how to enact city-wide programs.
Many months ago, I asked you to reflect on two questions: 1) what’s breaking your heart? and 2) what are you going to do about it? You don’t have to break the gauge, all God expects is that you move the needle of justice.
And in so doing, you become the face of faith for others in need of inspiration. I close with a quote by Margaret Mead:
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
[1] https://workingoutloud.com/blog/the-starfish-on-the-beach-story-part-ii