Unchained 1 - Unchained Character

Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother, to Philemon our beloved friend and fellow laborer, to the beloved Apphia, 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. I thank my God, making mention of you always in my prayers, hearing of your love and faith which you have toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints, that the sharing of your faith may become effective by the acknowledgment of every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus. For we have great joy and consolation in your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed by you, brother. — Philemon 1–7

All of humanity is under the tyranny of death because of slavery to sin—but the gospel of grace unchains us.

A Seven-Year-Old's Fire

It was the kind of thing seven- and eight-year-old boys do—at least it was the kind of thing my friend Nathan and I did. Who knew a pile of greasy rags would burn so quickly? We thought we had it under control: the field behind my parents' house, old orange groves, a nice little clearing, a pile of rags, and a lighter. Just what a seven-year-old boy needs. My son will be seven soon, and I'm a little frightened.

Dried grass burns faster than a seven-year-old brain can process what to do. To this day, I don't know how—it had to have been a miracle of God's grace—that we got that fire out. As we stood there in the middle of that newly blackened ground, two thoughts ran through my mind: first, my short life is over; and second, it's over because I have to go tell my parents.

Don't misunderstand—the impulse to tell my parents wasn't some admirable desire to do right. It was a compulsion driven by fear that the fire might start back up. So I went to find my dad to make sure it was out. The thing that shocked me more than anything was that I didn't get punished. That fast confession led to a complete pardon.

The ironic end to the story came about three years ago. I was standing in full uniform with a badge, behind a podium, representing the Escondido Fire Department as a chaplain, opening a newly rebuilt station—Station 4 by Kit Carson Park—the very station that services my parents' house. Not ten feet to my right stood the project manager of the construction company that rebuilt the station, and who was it? None other than my friend Nathan, who had helped me light that fire. That's a true story. Forgiveness is a great thing.

Introducing the Book of Philemon

We're starting a new series called Unchained on the book of Philemon, a small book near the end of your Bibles, right before Hebrews. The reason for the title will become clear over the next few weeks. Philemon is actually a letter—no more than 439 words—written nearly 2,000 years ago by a Christian pastor, the Apostle Paul. Paul wrote 13 letters in the New Testament; most were written to churches, but three were written to individuals. This is one of those.

It was written to a man named Philemon, who lived in the city of Colossae in modern-day Turkey. He was a wealthy, free man who owned slaves. As soon as we mention slavery in the 21st century, we picture the slavery that arose in our own nation and was thankfully done away with in the 19th century. But first-century slavery was quite different.

The Roman Empire was made up predominantly of slaves—it's believed there were in excess of 60 million. Slavery was the workforce of the nation. These were not, for the most part, individuals kidnapped or enslaved because of their race. Most were in slavery because of a debt they owed—an indentured servitude. They had rights: rights to property, to marry, to their own personal possessions. They served to pay off their debt, usually about ten years. Because the conditions were often good, many slaves chose to remain under their master after their term, since being a poor free man was often a harder life.

The Story Behind the Letter

The purpose of the book is clear. Paul is writing to his friend Philemon on behalf of a slave named Onesimus, who had been in Philemon's household but ran away. He fled Colossae and traveled about a thousand miles west, ultimately ending up in Rome. By the sovereignty of God, he came into the presence of the Apostle Paul, who was there as a prisoner, and through Paul's ministry Onesimus became a Christian.

At this time Paul was writing several letters: Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians—and this one personal letter to Philemon. He sent it with a group of men, and Onesimus was among them, carrying the letter back to Colossae. It is highly likely that the runaway slave himself placed this letter into Philemon's hand. Compounding the problem, it seems Onesimus not only ran away but stole from Philemon, which meant Philemon had full authority to punish him—up to capital punishment. So Paul sends a runaway, thieving slave back to his master with a letter of liberty and forgiveness.

Many have used these verses to call this a New Testament treatise against slavery, or the abolitionist manifesto. It isn't quite either of those. But it is a letter about liberty and forgiveness.

Forgiveness Is the Key to Liberty

The first point: forgiveness is the key to liberty, and the gospel is the key to forgiveness. This is incredibly important. Where the Bible, the gospel, and Christians have gone over the last 2,000 years, liberty has followed—liberty through better forms of justice, liberty from tyranny, liberty for women, liberty for slaves, liberty for all.

As we sit in 21st-century America, where our children learn the Pledge of Allegiance—"with liberty and justice for all"—we need to understand that there would be no such nation had it not been one nation under a God who is gracious and forgives. That liberty and justice for all is possible only because of the saving grace of God, and because this nation at its founding understood that God brings forgiveness and liberty—and that liberty is not just for certain races, classes, or peoples.

This point also matters because what was once branded slavery is now called human trafficking, and sadly it remains a major problem worldwide and even in our own nation. We've softened the word, but it's the same thing. In the Western world it has become trendy to call oneself a modern-day abolitionist, especially among Millennials. But let me clue you in: you're not an abolitionist merely by wearing a shirt, liking a post, or using a hashtag. The best way to be a promoter of liberty and justice for all is to be a minister of the gospel, because there is no liberty without the good news of forgiving grace in Christ. This evil institution of slavery has been normative to every culture throughout human history—until the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The Tyranny of Death and Slavery to Sin

Why is this so urgent? Because the greatest tyranny and the worst form of slavery in the world is not for one small group in one small area. The second point: all of humanity is subject to the tyranny of death because of the slavery to sin. There are over 7.3 billion people on this planet, and every single one—including us—was born under the tyranny of death in slavery to sin.

But God—we love the "buts" of the Bible—but God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses and sins, sent forth His Son, born of a virgin, to die in our place on the cross, to redeem us by His blood from slavery to sin, to make us those who have been unchained. If you're a Christian today, you've been unchained from slavery to sin; you are no longer under the tyranny of death because the Redeemer Jesus has bought you back. That's good news. And where that message goes, it transforms people, and people who are part of cultures transform the culture.

The Greatest Good in the World

I recognize that over 2,000 years of church history you can find problems. People who called themselves Christians have done wrong in the name of the Bible and of Christ—even promoting slavery using Scripture, which is wrong. Christians and non-Christians alike should be ardently opposed to human trafficking. But predominantly, where the gospel and the church have gone, the influence has been positive—in science, technology, education, medicine, exploration, the arts and music, and in the emancipation of oppressed peoples.

That brings us to the third point: the greatest good in the world, in any age, is the grace of God through the gospel. If you're a Christian, grasp this, because a vocal mindset in our culture constantly tells us the church is a negative impact and that God is bad for the world. Christopher Hitchens, who died a few years ago of throat cancer, wrote a book called God Is Not Great arguing exactly that. But it's simply not true.

Most people who write such things just don't like God, and if you go back a little further you usually find a reason. I was once talking with an atheist on the treadmill next to me. He knew I was a pastor and quickly told me he was an atheist, hoping for some shock value. I wasn't shocked—I've met plenty over the years. As we talked, it came down to this: his father had died of lung cancer, and he had prayed that his lifelong-smoking father would be healed, and he wasn't. His atheism came from his anger at God, not from a reasonable discovery as he examined the evidence. The gospel is the greatest good in the world, and we need to stand on it.

A Prisoner of Christ Jesus

"Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus." At the time he wrote this, Paul was under house arrest in Rome. The story is in Acts 22 through 28. Paul had taken a financial gift from Christians in Asia down to the Christians in Jerusalem, and there a group opposed to his ministry beat him and threw him in jail. He found himself protected, oddly enough, in a Roman jail cell. His accusers said he was seditious against Rome—he was simply a preacher of the gospel. After two and a half years of trials, Paul, as a Roman citizen, appealed to Caesar—the Supreme Court of the day. So on Rome's dime he was taken to the city to await trial before Nero, one of the craziest Caesars of Rome.

This is called Paul's first imprisonment. It's believed he was jailed, released, then later imprisoned again and ultimately martyred. During this first imprisonment he wrote Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and this letter to Philemon.

Every time I read "Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus," I'm reminded that many people feel stuck—incarcerated in a bad job, a bad class, a bad marriage. But Paul understood that the difficult situation he was in, he was in for the glory of God. There are times we cry, "God, just get me out of this," and He says, "My grace is sufficient for you, and my strength is made perfect in your weakness." That was Paul's experience, and yet with joy he wrote these letters.

Philemon's Beloved Character

"And Timothy our brother." Paul met Timothy on his first missionary journey in the region of Galatia. Timothy became Paul's student and disciple, and ultimately the mantle of Paul's ministry would rest on him—he would go on to pastor the church at Ephesus. Paul wrote two letters to him, which we'll study next year.

"To Philemon our beloved friend and fellow laborer." Paul is eventually going to get to what salespeople call "the ask"—an audacious one: Philemon, your runaway slave Onesimus stole from you, but he's a believer now, and so are you. Forgive him and free him, even though you have the authority to kill him. But you don't jump straight into the ask. So Paul, a good pitchman, begins by calling Philemon his beloved friend. Philemon wasn't your average Roman citizen—he had special, beloved character, because the gospel had transformed his life. Paul later alludes to the fact that he himself preached the gospel to Philemon, and Philemon was a changed man.

"To the beloved Apphia, Archippus our fellow soldier, and to the church in your house." Though written personally to Philemon, this letter was to be read aloud to the Christians who gathered in his household. For all intents and purposes, Philemon was a connect-group host. Apphia, most Bible teachers believe, was Philemon's wife, and Archippus—mentioned in Colossians 4:17, where Paul urges him to fulfill his ministry—was likely Philemon's adult son and an elder in the church. Philemon was a leader, hospitable, a minister, and clearly wealthy, with a home large enough for the church and with slaves like Onesimus.

Grace and Peace

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." Nearly all of Paul's 13 letters begin this way. Some teach that "grace" was the common Greek greeting and "peace" (Shalom) the common Hebrew greeting—so Paul greets both Gentiles and Hebrews. More importantly, these twins of the New Testament always appear in the same order: grace first, then peace. For us to have peace with God, we must first be recipients of the grace of God. And it's always "from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ"—this grace that brings peace is given to us through Jesus, who knew no sin but became sin for us, taking our sin upon Himself on the cross so we could come into relationship with God.

This brings the fourth point: grace is the means of forgiveness, and peace is the result. Forgiveness is an act of pure grace. There I was at seven, anticipating the rod of correction—foolishness is bound up in the pyro heart of a seven-year-old—but I didn't receive it. Almost thirty years later, that act of pardoning grace still lingers in my mind. I didn't deserve it; I was at fault; I should have been punished, and I wasn't. Forgiveness is always an act of pure grace.

Paul says it in Ephesians 1:7: "In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace." He purchased us back—not with corruptible things like silver and gold, but with His precious blood. Forgiveness is an act of pure grace.

A Praiseworthy Friend

"I thank my God, making mention of you always in my prayers." Philemon was a praiseworthy individual for whom Paul gave thanks to God. Every time you come to my mind, Philemon, I praise the Lord for you. Do you have friends like that? Are you a friend like that—one for whom people thank God when they think of you?

Why was Philemon so praiseworthy? "Hearing of your love and faith which you have toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints." Philemon had the marks of Christian maturity—faith and love. For Paul to acknowledge this from a thousand miles away in a prison cell, Philemon's faith and love must have been tangibly expressed. We all know someone can give mental assent to truth or speak empty words of love that never affect how they live. But not Philemon. He had an active, vibrant faith that overflowed into tangible expressions of love. James says faith without works is dead—but not this man's faith.

Forgiving Grace Produces Sweet Fruit

Paul also prays for him: "that the sharing of your faith may become effective by the acknowledgment of every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus." Paul prays that Philemon's faith and love would increase and abound, becoming ever more effective. And Paul could pray this with absolute confidence, because of the fifth point: forgiving grace is a seed that produces sweet fruit.

When God's grace and forgiveness come into the heart of a person who has suffered under the tyranny of death, the cross of Christ destroys that bondage. That grace takes root and imparts the DNA of God's goodness into your life, transforming you from the inside out. Many people think, "I can't come to God or to church until I clean up my life." But you'll never be able to clean it up on your own, so if you wait, you'll never come. The Scriptures reveal that we come to God totally broken—"God, I set a fire and everything's charred and black, help me"—and He forgives us, and His grace transforms us from the inside out.

That was certainly the case with Philemon. So Paul writes, "We have great joy and consolation in your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed by you, brother." The reports of Philemon's tangible love made Paul happy and comforted him. Interestingly, Paul writes in Philippians 1 that while he was in prison, some who called themselves Christians acted spitefully, trying to make his suffering worse. Yet Philemon was one who brought him joy, living in such a way that it refreshed the hearts of God's people.

Questions to Ponder

As we close, consider a few questions. First, what is the effect of your life upon the lives of others? Philemon's beloved character, formed by God's grace, so transformed him that people were refreshed by him. Are people refreshed by your beloved character, or repulsed?

Finally, has God's forgiving grace influenced you to be gracious, forgiving, faithful, and loving toward others? I ask because if it hasn't, you're not a Christian. That's not me saying it—Jesus said it: "If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

Now, this does not mean forgiveness is easy or without struggle. We've all felt the struggle when someone wrongs us. That struggle is real, and it is the struggle of a Christian. I guarantee Philemon felt it when Onesimus stood at his door handing him this letter. And God will give you and me a chance to practice this very soon—probably before this day is over. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, plenty of people are going to tick you off, especially if you're driving south on the 15 like I will be taking my kids to school. We'll have an opportunity to see if this works. It may be a struggle, but His grace should transform us.

Closing Prayer

God, I thank You that You have given us liberty through the gospel. I pray this morning for any who have yet to experience being unchained from the tyranny of death and slavery to sin. Lord Jesus, draw them to Yourself, because You are the one who made it possible on the cross—the cross destroys the binding chains of sin and death. Use us to carry that good news to others, because in our workplaces and on school campuses tomorrow we will come into contact with loads of people still under the tyranny of death, shackled in slavery to sin. God, give us a passion for sharing that good news. We praise You and thank You in Jesus' name. Amen.