Unchained 2 – The Audacious Ask
October 19, 2015 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
Through the story of Philemon, Onesimus, and Paul, this teaching shows that the forgiveness we receive from God in Christ is pure grace that must in turn make us gracious and forgiving toward others. Drawing on Philemon 1, it argues that forgiveness is the fitting response of the forgiven sinner, that grace makes us more useful to God, and that eternal outcomes outweigh temporal difficulties.
- The act of forgiveness is an act of pure grace, illustrated by the parable of the master who pardoned an insurmountable debt.
- Saving grace and forgiveness do not release us from repentance—Onesimus had to return and do the right thing.
- Forgiveness is the right response of the forgiven sinner; it is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners.
- The forgiving grace of God makes us better and more useful to God and His kingdom than we were before.
- Eternal outcomes are more important than temporal ones, which reframes the cost of granting forgiveness.
Readable is a lightly edited reading copy; Verbatim stays close to the spoken words. The audio and video are the record of what was said.
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 appeal to you for my son Onesimus, whom I have begotten while in my chains, who once was unprofitable to you, but now is profitable to you and to me. I am sending him back. You therefore receive him, that is, my own heart... no longer as a slave but more than a slave—a beloved brother. ()
When the forgiven sinner refuses to forgive, he forgets the immeasurable debt that was wiped clean for him.
A Debt That Could Not Be Paid
It was still dark, and he knew the sun wouldn't be up for an hour or more. The day he had long dreaded was now upon him. Over the last 72 hours he had reasoned through every possible option, and none of them had a workable solution. The venture he had been certain would produce so much, the one he had convinced others was a sure bet, simply didn't come about. The debt was now insurmountable.
He walked the few blocks to the office, his legs heavier than normal, the nagging thought returning: what's going to happen to my wife? What will happen to my kids? Sitting in the waiting room with eight others, he cracked his knuckles and shook his leg. Nobody said a word. When the door opened, the attendant's eyes met his with a brief nod. This is it.
Inside, the accountant read out the figures: "Account 274, the outstanding balance is $7.4 million. We've adjusted the terms before—this is the fourth time—but we're calling the loan. Do you have the payment?" From across the table came the master's voice: "Do you have my money? You told me this was a sure bet." He did not.
"I Pardon You"
Turning to his accountant, the master said, "He is to be sold. His wife, his sons, they are to be sold as well." The man's knees buckled. He fell to the floor weeping: "Master, please, I beg you, have mercy on me. I will pay everything I can." Something in the tone of the man's voice struck a chord in the creditor's heart. A tear came to his own eye, and before he could even register what he was saying, the words came out: "I pardon you. Erase the debt. I forgive it. You're free to go."
This brings us to our first point: the act of forgiveness is an act of pure grace. It is not earned. It is not deserved. It is given.
Philemon, Onesimus, and Paul
There was a wealthy man some 2,000 years ago who lived in an ancient city called Colossae, on the Lycus River in what is now Turkey—then Asia Minor, in the region of Phrygia. We don't know how he gained his wealth, but it likely came through mercantile trade. Business probably brought Philemon about a hundred miles west to the great city of Ephesus on the Aegean Sea.
It was most likely there, around AD 55 or 56, that Philemon came into contact with a former Jewish religious lawyer named Paul, a man whose life had been radically transformed by meeting Jesus, who had been crucified, buried, and raised from the dead. Maybe it was in the marketplace, where Paul plied his trade repairing tents and shared the gospel with everyone he met. Or maybe it was in the school of Tyrannus, where tells us Paul taught daily for two years. However it happened, Philemon heard the gospel of grace, received the forgiveness of God, and was transformed.
He returned to Colossae and began meeting with others who had put their faith in Christ—a church in his house, with his wife Apphia and his son Archippus, a leader there. Being wealthy, Philemon had slaves. One of them, a man named Onesimus, decided he no longer wanted to be there. Desiring his freedom, he ran—and on his way he stole from his master, fleeing a thousand miles west to Rome, hoping to start a new life as a free man.
The Right Thing to Do
In Rome, Onesimus ran into the same man Philemon had met years before: Paul. By now Paul was no longer in the open marketplace but detained under house arrest, accused of sedition though he was simply a preacher of the gospel. By God's sovereign direction, Onesimus came to sit before this apostle, and Paul shared the gospel. Onesimus's heart began to warm, and he too put his faith in the risen Lord Jesus Christ.
As their friendship grew, Paul finally said, "Onesimus, it's awesome that you've put your faith in Christ, but it's time to do the right thing—to go back to Philemon." Onesimus protested: "Paul, you don't understand. The severest consequence awaits me. He has the authority to kill me." Paul replied, "I know Philemon. He's a good man, changed by the gospel. But you need to do the right thing, whatever the outcome, because you're a Christian now. The grace you've received—this is the response."
That brings us to our second point: saving grace and forgiveness do not release us from repentance. God graciously forgives sinners like you and me, releasing us from the tyranny of death and slavery to sin. But that goodness of God should lead us to repentance. Paul wrote in that the goodness and forbearance of God leads us to repentance. Repentance is an inner change that transforms the outward—a change in the heart that changes how you act.
So Paul said, "Onesimus, I'm not going to leave you empty-handed. I'll write you a letter to take to Philemon on your behalf." That letter is the book we are studying.
Paul Appeals Rather Than Commands
Picking up in , Paul writes, "Therefore, though I might be very bold in Christ to command you what is fitting..." Philemon is a good man; his love toward God and His people is evident; he has refreshed the hearts of the saints. Because of that, Paul chooses to appeal rather than command. He has apostolic authority—he could say, "This is what you will do by the authority God gave me." But he refuses.
This is our third point: forgiveness is the right response of the forgiven sinner. It is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners. It is right for those who have received grace to be gracious to others. In fact, it is an indication that you have actually received the forgiving grace of God.
Paul wrote at the very same time, in :
Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.
The Struggle to Forgive
This is not to say forgiveness is easy. The struggle is real. If you've been a Christian, you've experienced how difficult, costly, and sacrificial it is to forgive. Every one of us has been wronged by someone. The mere utterance of that person's name brings it back to the surface. You're at the checkout stand and you spot them across the room, and you feel it—bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor. And evil speaking: someone mentions their name and you can't help but relay what they did, what they said.
Paul says let all that go, and in its place be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as Christ forgave you. You may say, "I understand that Jesus forgave me, but I can't forgive that person. You don't know what they did. It's too costly." But remember: God sacrificed to forgive you. The cost was immeasurable—someone had to die for your forgiveness. So when you say it's too hard, remember the words: forgive as God in Christ has forgiven you.
When Philemon opened the door and saw Onesimus standing there with a letter from Paul, forgiveness was surely not his first thought. And no doubt friends in his circle would say, "Philemon, you can't do this. He stole from you and ran. Your other servants will walk all over you." There are always people who will justify our unforgiveness. But it is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners.
My Son Onesimus
"Yet for love's sake I rather appeal to you, being such a one as Paul, the aged and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ. I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, whom I have begotten while in my chains." As far as we can tell, Paul never had biological children. Yet he considered those who came to faith through his preaching to be his spiritual sons and daughters. Onesimus, he says, is my son, come to faith just as you did, Philemon. And like any loving father with a wayward son who returns, Paul goes out on his behalf.
"He who once was unprofitable to you, but now is profitable to you and to me." Onesimus was once useless—an understatement. He had run away and stolen, two crimes punishable by death. But now he is profitable to both.
This is our fourth point: forgiving grace makes us better than we were. When we receive the forgiving grace of God, it should make us gracious and forgiving. Man, created in God's image, has all kinds of talents and abilities, but he does not reach his fullest potential until he receives the forgiving grace of God. God created every one of the 7.3 billion people on this planet to bring glory to Him through their gifts and lives—and you cannot do that until you receive His grace. So the gospel makes us more profitable to the King and His kingdom, more glorious and useful to God.
Receive Him as a Brother
"I am sending him back. You therefore receive him, that is, my own heart." Paul's desire is that Philemon receive Onesimus not as a slave, criminal, or servant, but as a brother. This reminds us of the story Jesus told of the prodigal son—the young man who demanded his inheritance, squandered it, and came to his senses, returning to a father who watched the horizon every day. The father ran to him, put a robe on his shoulders and a ring on his finger, and welcomed him home.
But that's not the whole story, because the prodigal had a brother who didn't squander anything, a faithful son who came in from the fields, heard the celebration, and grew angry and indignant. Here we have a father and two spiritual sons—one who failed and fell short, and one who did the right thing. Paul says, "I want you to receive him. That's my heart. I'm not going to command you. I want you to want to do the right thing." Have you ever said that to your kids? "I want you to want to do the right thing." Onesimus has come back because it is right; Philemon, do the right thing too.
Ministry by Proxy and Voluntary Goodness
"Onesimus, whom I wished to keep with me, that on your behalf he might minister to me in my chains for the gospel. But without your consent I wanted to do nothing, that your good deed might not be by compulsion, but as it were voluntarily." There is an interesting principle here—ministry by proxy. By supporting the minister, you support the ministry; many people's ministry is to support the minister so the ministry can go forward.
Paul knew that if he had simply said, "I'm keeping Onesimus to serve me," Philemon would have agreed—but out of obligation, unable to say no to the apostle. So Paul sent Onesimus back. He wanted nothing by compulsion. Yet forgiveness once received should compel our forgiveness of others.
Eternal Outcomes Over Temporal
"For perhaps he departed for a while for this purpose, that you might receive him 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." Someone might object: Onesimus made a free-will decision to steal and run, and you're saying that falls under the sovereignty of God? Paul doesn't explain the mechanics. He simply says, "Perhaps." Can a wrong action ultimately bring about a good outcome? Perhaps. Many of us in a scientific, modernist mindset struggle with the tension between free will and God's sovereignty. Paul didn't. He just said, "Perhaps. I'm good with that."
This is our fifth point: eternal outcomes are more important than temporal. This is hard to grasp because, before you become a follower of Jesus, there are only temporal outcomes. Everything is about this life—what you can acquire or attain. For the person who hasn't met Jesus, this life is all there is. But when you become a Christian, a revolutionary change takes place: you realize this life is not all there is. There is an eternity that lasts far longer, and now what you do in this life is changed.
I've talked with many brothers and sisters who went through devastating temporal things—a diagnosis, a pink slip, a collapse—that showed them this life is failing and falling apart. There they reached out for something more, found it, and ended up in a seat like this, realizing this life is not all there is. The New Testament describes rewards and responsibilities in eternity—crowns. We don't know every detail, but decisions made in this temporal life affect that eternal life.
So Paul could say, Philemon, think about eternity. The temporal difficulty of granting forgiveness is far surpassed by the eternal blessing of doing so. At the same time, Paul wrote to the Colossian church—where Philemon attended—"Set your mind on things above, not on the things of the earth, where Christ is." It is hard for us to make that transition, because everything in this life tells us it's all about today. But there is more than this.
Is There Someone You Need to Forgive?
Has the pure grace of God's forgiveness affected you so deeply that the eternal realities of what God says now direct you, more than what others will think? Has His saving grace made you more gracious and forgiving toward others? Let's bring it home: is there someone you need to forgive? For some of you, a name or a face just came to mind, along with the struggle: if I do this, what will people think?
In Jesus's day, the rabbis taught you only had to forgive someone three times. So Peter, talking with Jesus about forgiveness in , asked, "Should I forgive my brother up to seven times?"—expecting commendation. Jesus answered, "I say not seven, but seventy times seven." Forgive and forgive and forgive.
Then Jesus told a story—the same one I told at the beginning. A master called his servants to settle accounts, and one was brought before him owing 10,000 denarii, 10,000 days' wages, millions of dollars. He couldn't pay. The master ordered him, his wife, and his children sold, but the man fell down crying for mercy, and the master forgave him. Unfortunately, that's not the whole story—but to hear the rest, you'll have to come back next week.
Closing Prayer
Dear God, Your grace is good. We are completely undeserving of it. Every one of us has, or had, a debt we cannot pay—and Jesus, You paid it. You redeemed and ransomed us from the tyranny of death and the slavery to sin. You have wiped it clean and transformed our lives. May it transform us in a way that is evident to other people. We thank You for Your grace, we praise You for it, and we thank You for Your forgiveness. You have unchained us; now help us to be changed.
If you have not received the forgiving grace of God, it is a free gift. The Apostle Paul said Jesus Christ came into the world to forgive sinners, to pardon us, to set us free. If you would like to receive that gift this morning, pray this with me: Dear God, I know that I have failed. I know that my sin is great, and I cannot pay the debt. I thank You that You sent Jesus to die on the cross and pay it, and I pray that You would pardon my sin, make me new, and help me to walk in obedience to You. In Jesus' name. God is good.
It was still dark outside, and he knew that the sun wouldn't be up for another hour or more. But as he lay there, he thought to himself, I might as well just get up. He was sure that his tossing and turning and constant sighing were disturbing his wife. So, he proceeded to hesitantly get up, thinking that this was not the way it was supposed to end. This wasn't the outcome he had anticipated. The day he had long dreaded was now upon him.
Since he received the notice a few days before, he had hardly slept at all. Over the last 72 hours, he had reasoned through every possible option, but none of them had any sort of workable solution. The end was clear. He knew exactly what was ultimately going to come about, and the debt was now insurmountable. You could never fully prepare for those unforeseen options, those things around the next corner. The venture he thought for sure would produce so much, and that he had convinced others would be a sure bet, just didn't come about.
As he got up and left the house, walking the few blocks to the office where he would meet with him, his legs seemed heavier than normal. The cool, quiet air didn't produce the calming effect he had anticipated or hoped for. As he walked, that nagging thought returned to him again: What's going to happen with my wife? What will happen to my kids? Maybe they'd just be better off without me. But he stopped himself there; no, I can't put them through the shame of that.
Now, sitting in the waiting room, shaking his leg nervously, he cracked his knuckles.
For the hundredth time, he looked around the room. There were eight others doing exactly the same. Nobody said a word. Even though their minds were filled, there was just nothing to say. Just then, the door opened. All the eyes in the room turned to the door as the attendant came out, everybody wondering the same thing: Is it my turn? But the attendant's eyes met his, and with a brief nod, he knew this was it.
Standing up, he straightened his clothes as he walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, he realized just how dry his throat was. Clearing it and swallowing, he started to recognize that his heart was beating faster. In fact, he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Have you been there? He wondered, does anybody else hear that? Then there was a taste in his mouth, like the taste of rust. What is that?
As he walked through the door, the room was bigger than he remembered. There, at the other end of the room, was a large table with a man seated there in very rich clothing. To that man's left was another man seated at a table about eight feet away; it was his accountant. The attendant showed him where to stand and then went to sit at his own chair. The accountant began, "Account 274, the outstanding balance is $7.4 million."
"Is it really that much?" he asked. "I guess with interest it is." Just then, he wobbled, feeling a little dizzy. The accountant continued, "Sir, we've adjusted the terms before. This is actually the fourth time, but we're calling the loan. It's time. Do you have the payment?"
"I, well, you see—"
"Stop," came the voice from across the table. "Do you have my money? You told me this was a sure bet. You told me we could not lose. You have the largest loan by far of anything I've ever given. Do you realize why that is? That's because you said this was a sure bet. Do you have my money?"
"I don't."
"Clearly, you don't." Turning to his accountant, the man said, "He is to be sold."
His wife and his sons were to be sold as well. The attendant was instructed to survey his household and his goods; everything was to be sold. Perhaps they could recover some of what they had given to him. His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor. "Master, please, I beg you," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "I beg you, have mercy on me. I will pay everything I can. Please don't do this. Have mercy on me."
The creditor looked at him; this had never happened before. Dozens, if not hundreds, of meetings just like this one had occurred, but this was different. There, lying before him in a crumpled mess, was a man weeping and begging for mercy. For some reason, something about the tone of the man's voice struck a chord with his heart. A tear actually came to his own eye. Before he could even register what he was saying, he declared, "I pardon you."
"What?" cried the accountant incredulously. "You heard me. Erase the debt; I forgive it. I pardon you." Turning to the attendant, he said, "Go tell the others that we're done for today. We're done for today. We'll have them back another day."
There on the floor, the man could hardly understand what was going on. He could still hear the beating of his heart in his own ears, trying to register what it was that he had just heard. Once again, the creditor looked at him and said, "You're free to go. Go, I pardon you. You're free to go."
Verse number one on your outline: the act of forgiveness is an act of pure grace. There was a wealthy man 2,000 years ago who lived in an ancient city called Colossi. Colossi was not a large city; it was situated on the Lycus River in what is now called the country of Turkey. At that time, it was known as Asia Minor, and the region was called Phrygia.
Though we don't know how Philemon gained his wealth, it probably came about through some sort of mercantile trade. That was typically how wealthy men acquired their riches in a city like Colossae. Because he was likely involved in that type of business, he often found himself traveling about a hundred miles directly west to the largest city in the region, a city on the Aegean Sea called Ephesus. Perhaps it was during one of these business trips that Philemon came into contact with another man, a Jewish religious lawyer named Paul.
Paul's life had been radically transformed, at least as he described it, by meeting a man who had been crucified and buried dead but who had raised from the dead—a man named Jesus. It was probably around the year 55 or 56 AD that Philemon encountered Paul in Ephesus. Maybe it was in the marketplace. We know that Paul the Apostle, although he was a preacher of the gospel, was also a tradesman. He plied his trade in the open marketplace, repairing tents and anything made of canvas. Perhaps it was there that Philemon met him, as Paul always shared the gospel with everyone he encountered.
Alternatively, it could have been during Philemon's business journey that one of his associates said, "Hey, listen, Philemon, you have to meet this guy. There's someone in town who teaches every single day at the school down the road called the School of Tyrannus. Come listen to what he has to say; he has some amazing things to share." tells us that for two years, the Apostle Paul taught at the School of Tyrannus in Ephesus. Philemon heard the message of the gospel there.
Whatever the case, he received the gospel of grace and the forgiveness of God through the mouth of the Apostle Paul, and his life was radically transformed. He returned to his hometown of Colossae and began to meet with others like him—others who had put their faith in Christ. As the years passed, about eight or nine years later, he had a group of Christians meeting in his house, forming a connect group and a church.
His wife, Athia, was there with him, along with his son, Archippus, a leader in the church in the city of Colossae. Philemon was a wealthy man, meaning he had servants; well, he had slaves. Somewhere along the line, one of his slaves, a man by the name of Onesimus, decided he didn't want to be there anymore. Desiring his freedom, he decided to run. On top of running, he stole from his master, Philemon, on his way out. He ran as far as he could, having stolen from Philemon, a thousand miles to the west, to the largest city of the day, the capital of the empire, Rome. He hoped that perhaps with his stolen goods and his newfound freedom, even if it was by a crime, he could start a new life as a free man.
Little did he know he would run into someone—the same guy that Philemon had met about eight years before: Paul. No longer in the open marketplace, Paul the Apostle was by that time in prison or under house arrest. One way or another, he was detained by the Roman Empire. There were accusations against him that he had been seditious against the Roman Empire. Although he wasn't, he was just a simple preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which happens to be revolutionary. So there he was, awaiting the day of his trial, which makes it even more interesting that Onesimus would come in contact with Paul by God's sovereign direction and grace.
Onesimus came to sit before this apostle. As Paul always did, he shared the gospel. As he did, Onesimus' heart began to warm. At some point, he too put his faith in the risen Lord Jesus Christ, and his life was radically transformed. Daily, he would go and meet with Paul and listen to the words that he had. As they built up a friendship, Paul finally came to a point where he said to Onesimus, "Listen, Onesimus, I think it's awesome that you've put your faith in Christ, but it's time to do the right thing."
Onesimus' heart kind of skipped a beat. He knew exactly what Paul was saying. "Onesimus, you've been forgiven, you've received the grace of Christ, but now it's time to do the right thing and go back to Philemon." Onesimus replied, "Paul, you don't understand; the severest consequence awaits me."
If I go back, I'm a dead man. He has the authority to kill me. I know Philemon; he's a good man. He too has been changed by the gospel. I think he'll act differently than you might expect. But you need to do the right thing, whatever the outcome, because you're a Christian now. The forgiveness and the grace that you've received—this is your response.
Point number two on your outline: saving grace and forgiveness do not release us from repentance. God in Christ Jesus graciously forgives sinners like you and me. He extends a pardon to us, releasing us from the tyranny of death and the slavery to sin. He gives us that grace, but the goodness of God, that grace of God, should lead us to repentance. Paul wrote that in : the goodness and forbearance of God lead us to repentance.
Now, I know every one of us, whether you've been in church for a long time or not, has heard the word "repent" or "repentance." There are many different ways to describe it, but most simply, it's this: repentance is an inner change that transforms your outward behavior. It's a change that takes place inside your heart, but then changes the way you act.
And so there Paul sat with Onesimus. In Romans, he says, "Listen, you've got to do the right thing. You need to go back to Philemon. That's the right thing to do." Even if the consequence might be severe, even if it's a difficult thing to do, you need to repent. But Onesimus, I'm not going to leave you empty-handed. I'm going to write you a letter. I know Philemon; I'll write you this letter, and you take it with you to him. I'll write it to him on your behalf.
And that's the letter that we're studying through in this series called "Unchained." If you would open your Bibles to the book of Philemon, it's right near the end. It's a very small book; it's only one chapter, right before a big book called Hebrews. If you don't have a Bible, you can raise your hand, and one of the ushers will bring you one.
Philemon, verse one. Would you stand with me, please?
Philemon, verse one: Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy, our brother, to Philemon, our beloved friend and fellow laborer. To the beloved Aphia and 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 your 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.
Therefore, because of all this, though I might be very bold in Christ to command you what is fitting, yet for love's sake, I rather appeal to you. Being such a one as Paul, the aged, and now also a prisoner of Jesus Christ, I appeal to you for my son, Onesimus, whom I have begotten while in my chains. He once was unprofitable to you, but now is profitable to you and to me.
I'm sending him back. You therefore receive him, that is my own heart, whom I wish to keep with me, that on your behalf he might minister to me in my chains for the gospel. But without your consent, I wanted to do nothing, that your good deed might not be by compulsion, but voluntarily. For perhaps he departed for a while for this purpose, that you might receive him forever, no longer 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.
Father, we need your wisdom as we consider these words and as we walk through this text. Lord, we pray that you, by the direction of your Holy Spirit, would give us wisdom and that you would open your word to us. Use the text before us to transform us by the renewing of our minds. Lord, that we would see your goodness, your grace, and your forgiveness, and that we would see it not only in the life of Onesimus, Paul, or Philemon, but in our own lives, and that it would transform us for the better.
Make us better people because of Your grace. We ask this in Jesus' name, and all those that agreed said, "Amen." You can be seated.
Picking up the story in verse eight, Paul writes to Philemon and says, "Therefore, though I might be very bold in Christ to command you what is fitting." Philemon, you're a good man. He said in the previous verses that your love towards God and your faithfulness to Him, as well as your love and faith towards His people, is evident. You have refreshed the hearts of the saints. You're a good man, and because you're a good man, I want to appeal to you.
I'm not going to be bold to command you, even though I could. Paul has apostolic authority. He could say, "Philemon, this is what you are to do. This is what you are going to do. This is what I command you to do by the authority given to me by God." But he says, "I'm not going to do that." Though I could be very bold in Christ to command you, I'm not going to do that, even though I could.
As point number three on your outline, forgiveness is the right response of the forgiven sinner. Forgiveness is the right response of the forgiven sinner. It is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners. It is right for those who have been the recipients of grace to be gracious to others. In fact, it's an indication that you actually have received the forgiving grace of God, that you are also forgiving and gracious to others.
In another one of Paul's letters, which he wrote at the very same time that he wrote this letter to Philemon, he says this. You can turn there if you'd like; it's just to the left a few books. In the book of Ephesians, , beginning at , he says, "Let all bitterness and wrath, anger and clamor, evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you."
Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, and clamor be put away from you. Forgive as you've been forgiven. It is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners. That's not to say it's not difficult; it's a struggle. As the saying goes, the struggle is real. If you've been a Christian, you've experienced that struggle. It is difficult to forgive. It's hard. It's costly. It requires sacrifice to forgive.
Paul says in to let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you. If you're a Christian today, you've experienced this before. There are people who have wronged us. Every one of us has been wronged by someone at some point, right? Have you ever been wronged by someone? You know how it is. Just the mere utterance of that person's name brings it back to the surface.
Or you're at the checkout stand over at Vaughn's, and you look across the room, and there they are. You feel it—bitterness. Not just bitterness, but wrath. If you weren't such a good Christian, if you didn't have that stinking cross-connection sticker on your car, you might feel that bitterness, wrath, and anger. What's that? Oh, you know how it is. Someone says, "Hey, I bumped into Joe." And you think, "Oh, Joe, let me tell you about that guy." This is evil speaking. It can't help but relay what so-and-so did or what so-and-so said to others.
Paul says to let all that go. In its place, be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as Christ forgave you. You might say, "Listen, I understand that Jesus forgave me, but I can't forgive that person. You don't know what they did. You don't get it. It's too hard. It's too costly. It's too much of a sacrifice. I can't do that."
You know what? God sacrificed to forgive me, and He sacrificed for you too. A sacrifice so immeasurable that we can't even begin to scratch the surface of how costly that was. Someone had to die for my forgiveness. So when I say, or when you say, "It's just too hard," remember, it's a sacrifice.
I can't do that. It's important to remember those words: forgive as God and Christ have forgiven you. Paul writes to Philemon and says, "Listen, I could command you what is fitting. I could tell you this is what you have to do, but I don't need to do that because forgiveness is the right response of forgiven sinners. You've been forgiven, and you know that. So I trust that you're going to do the right thing."
Even though I know, and you know, that when Philemon opened the door that day and saw Onesimus standing in front of him with a letter from the Apostle Paul, it was not the first thing that went through his mind. "I'm going to forgive this guy." No doubt, when he started to proceed to do that very thing that Paul asked him to do, you can be certain there were people in his circle of friends who said, "Philemon, you can't do this. You can't just let a slave who stole from you and ran away from you go. You don't understand. Your other servants are going to walk all over you. You don't get what this is going to say to everybody else in the community. Other slaves are going to start..."
You know, there are people who will justify our unforgiveness constantly. They say, "No, you can't do that. You don't have to do that. Remember what that person did to you?" But it is fitting for forgiven sinners to forgive sinners, to forgive even as God in Christ Jesus has forgiven you.
So Paul says, "Though I might be very bold in Christ to command you what is fitting" (verse nine), "yet for love's sake, I'd rather appeal to you, being such a one as Paul, the aged and now the prisoner of Jesus Christ. I appeal to you for my son, Onesimus, whom I have begotten while in prison, while in chains. My son, whom I have begotten."
These are powerful words. As far as we can tell, Paul never had any biological children. In fact, there is debate on whether or not he was even married; most people say he was not. But Paul considered those who came to faith in Jesus Christ through his preaching of the gospel to be his spiritual sons and daughters. And here he says, "Hey, Philemon, Onesimus is my son, whom I've begotten while in my chains."
He's come to faith just like you. You remember back there in Ephesus when I shared the gospel with you, and you became a follower of Jesus Christ. You're my son in the faith also. Now, Onesimus, I've preached the gospel to him. Like any loving father, when you have a wayward son, when you have a prodigal, and he returns, you're going to go out on his behalf. Philemon, you know how it is. You have a son, Archippus. You would do the same if you were in my position. Onesimus is my son, and I want you to receive him.
Philemon, Onesimus was once unprofitable to you, but now he is profitable to you and to me. He was once useless—an understatement. He was once unprofitable. No, no, no, you don't get it, Paul. He wasn't just unprofitable; he ran away and stole from me. Those are two crimes punishable by death if I choose to do that. He once was unprofitable, but now he is profitable both to you and to me.
This brings me to point number four on your outline: forgiving grace makes us better than we were. The forgiving grace of God should transform us. When we receive the forgiving grace of God, it should make us gracious and forgiving. Sure, man, created in God's image, has all kinds of talents, abilities, and gifts to do amazing things. We see the awesome capacity with which God has created humanity. However, man does not meet his fullest potential. He does not come to the place of fulfilling what it is that God actually made him for until he receives the forgiving grace of God.
How is that? God created every one of the seven point three billion people on the face of this planet today for the purpose of bringing glory to Him through their gifts, abilities, talents, and uniqueness. Whatever they do with their lives is meant to bring glory to Him. You cannot do that until you receive the forgiving grace of God. Therefore, the forgiving grace of God makes us more profitable to the King and His kingdom.
And so Paul says Onesimus was unprofitable, but now he's profitable. He's useful both for you, Philemon, and for me, and for the King and His kingdom, for God in heaven. The gospel of grace makes us more glorious and useful to God and His kingdom.
Paul continues in , "I'm sending him back. You therefore receive him. That is my own heart." That's my desire. My heart's desire as I send him back is that you would receive him not as a slave, not as a criminal, not as a servant, but as a brother. Receive your brother. That is the request of your spiritual father.
This reminds us, doesn't it, of a story that Jesus told in the gospels? We commonly refer to it as the story of the prodigal son. There was a father who had a son who, in his younger days, probably a teenager, came to his dad and said, "I'm out of here. I want what is mine. I want my inheritance. I'm gone. I refuse to live under this house and these rules and do what you tell me to do. I want my inheritance."
Somehow, in some way, that father, being gracious, gave it to him. He went, and Jesus tells the story that he used it and squandered it away until it was completely gone. Finally, he came to his senses and realized that the slaves in his father's house were taken care of better than he was being taken care of now. He thought, "If I could just go and return and be a slave, I'd be better off than I am."
With contrition and brokenness, he went back to his father, who every single day would wait, looking on the horizon for the day that his son would come back. When he came, he said, "Father, I know I've screwed up. If I could just be a servant in your household."
But the father said no. He took off his robe and put it on him, took off his ring and put it on him—the signet ring—and welcomed his son back into the house.
However, if you've ever read that story, you know that's not the whole story. That son had a brother, a brother who didn't screw up like that, a brother who didn't squander his inheritance. When he came in from the fields that he worked in every single day as a faithful son, he saw a party getting ready to go on and asked one of the servants.
What's going on? He says, "Your brother's come back. Your dad's throwing a party." And he goes, "What in the world? Has he lost his gourd?" He goes back to his father and asks, "What are you doing?" The father replies, "Listen, son, your brother's returned. He was lost, and now he's been found. He's returned."
That brother was angry. He went away, indignant and angry. Here we have the story of a father and two spiritual sons: one who had squandered his inheritance, lived it up, failed, and fallen short, and one who had done the right thing. Paul says, "I want you to receive him." That's my heart. I'm not going to command you to do it; I want you to want to do the right thing.
Any parents ever said that to your kids? "I want you to want to do the right thing." I've sent him back to you because it's the right thing to do. It's the right thing for me to say to Philemon, "Go back, make it right. What you did wrong, go back." So I've sent him back to you because it's the right thing to do. He's come back to you because it's the right thing to do. Even though he could have protested and said, "Paul, you're absurd. I'm not going back. You're going to kill me," he's come back.
So, Philemon, I appeal to you. I appeal to you: do the right thing. In , Paul writes about Onesimus, whom he wished to keep with him so that, on Philemon's behalf, he might minister to him in his chains for the gospel. But without Philemon's consent, Paul wanted to do nothing, so that Philemon's good deed might not be by compulsion, but voluntarily.
Paul wanted to keep Onesimus with him because he was profitable and helpful. If Paul had kept him there, he could have ministered to him on behalf of Philemon. On a side note, we have a very interesting concept here called ministry by proxy. It's the ministry that many of us are involved with: by supporting the minister, you're supporting the ministry. Many people's ministry is to support the minister to support the ministry.
Paul says, "Listen, Philemon, if I had just merely said, 'Hey, I want to keep this guy here, and he's going to serve,' you would have done it, but you might have done it out of obligation. You might have felt, 'Man, I can't really say no. It's the Apostle Paul; I can't really say no.'"
And so Paul says that he didn't want to do that. He sent him back to you because it's the right thing to do. He wants you to receive him and wipe away the sin, clearing the guilt. He doesn't want to do anything that might be by your compulsion, but forgiveness, once received, should compel our forgiveness of others.
Paul continues in and 16. For perhaps Onesimus ran away for a while for this purpose: that you might receive him forever. You might receive him no longer as a slave, but more than a slave, as a brother—a beloved brother, especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.
Now, no doubt someone would object, saying, "Paul, that's convoluted thinking, really? Perhaps Onesimus made a willful decision, a freewill decision to steal from his master and run away. And you're saying perhaps that's somewhere under the sovereignty of God?" Yes. How does that work? I don't know. That's why Paul doesn't say, "This is why it happened." He says, "Perhaps." He says, "Look at the outcome."
Can someone's wrong action that results in wrong things ultimately bring about a good outcome? Paul says, "Perhaps." There are many of us, especially in a scientific modernist mindset, who have a really hard time with that tension between freewill and God's sovereignty. Paul didn't have that problem. He just said, "Perhaps." I'm good with that.
Perhaps Philemon, Onesimus departed for a while for this very purpose: that you might receive him forever. How could Paul say that? Point number five: eternal outcomes are more important than temporal. Eternal outcomes are more important than temporal.
And this is sometimes a hard thing for us to wrestle with: that eternal outcomes are more important than temporal ones. It's a challenging concept because, before you become a follower of Jesus, before you become a Christian, there are only temporal outcomes. Everything in life revolves around this life. All you think about is how a decision today affects an outcome tomorrow. You are immersed in this life, and the aim, the ambition, becomes a focus solely on what you can acquire or attain.
For the person who has not come into contact with Jesus, who has not become a follower of Jesus, this life is all there is. However, when you become a Christian, a revolutionary change takes place in your life. You realize that this life is not all there is, and you become aware of an eternity that will last much longer than this life. Consequently, the things you do in this life are transformed because you understand that this is not the end. Eternal outcomes become more important than temporal ones.
Paul may have run away for a while for this very purpose: that in the sovereign direction of God, he would come into contact with a prisoner in the city of Rome, a thousand miles to the west of the city where he was a slave, and ultimately become a follower of Jesus. Many times, I have talked with brothers and sisters in the church who have gone through devastating and difficult situations. They faced a diagnosis, received a pink slip, or encountered some other challenging circumstance that revealed the fragility of this temporal life. In those moments, they began to reach out for something more and discovered that there is indeed something more.
They ended up in a seat like this, in a church like this, and realized that this life is not all there is. The events that take place in this life have a bearing on the next. While we may not know every little detail of how it all works out, especially...
In the New Testament, the last third of the Bible, it is described that in eternity there are rewards and responsibilities. Sometimes these are referred to as crowns, though we don't know exactly what they are for or how you get them. However, decisions made in this temporal life affect that eternal life. Paul could say to Philemon, "I want you to think about eternity." The temporal decision and difficulty of granting forgiveness are far surpassed by the eternal blessing of doing so. The challenge of pardoning the person who wronged you is overshadowed by the benefit and blessing of eternity.
Have you experienced the pure grace of God's forgiveness? Has this grace affected you in such a way that it transformed your life? Now, is it not only the temporal things that direct how you do things, how other people will think about it, or what they will say, but also the eternal realities of what God says?
At the very same time that Paul wrote this letter to Philemon, who lived in the city of Colossae, he also wrote a letter to the church in Colossae, known as the book of Colossians. We will study it next. In that book, he says to the church at Colossae—where Philemon was no doubt present, perhaps even reading it to the church or having his son Archippus read it—"Set your mind on things above, not on the things of the earth, but where Christ is." Here, Paul emphasizes that the eternal is more important than the temporal.
It is so hard for us to make that transition, to recognize that the eternal is more important than the temporal, because everything in this life tells us otherwise. It all seems to be about today—what you can attain and acquire today. But I am here to tell you that there is more than just this.
So, has the forgiving grace of God affected you in such a way that you are moving toward that place, even if it is difficult and a struggle? Is it no longer just about today and what other people will think, but about the things of God and eternity? Has the saving grace of God's forgiveness transformed you to be more gracious and forgiving?
To others? Let's bring it home a little bit more. Is there someone you need to forgive? For some of you right now, a name or a face just came to mind. I know there's the struggle: if I do this, what will people think?
In Jesus's day, the rabbis, the Jewish teachers of the law, would say you only have to forgive someone three times. Sounds good, doesn't it? Three strikes, you're out. It's like saying, "Sorry, dude, I'm done with you." Jesus is talking with his disciples about forgiveness, and it's recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 18. One of his disciples, a loudmouth named Peter, asks, "Jesus, should I forgive my brother seven times?" He's thinking that's twice plus one, out of the park. Should I forgive my brother up to seven times? No doubt he's expecting from Jesus a commendation like, "Yay, Peter, you got it, man. That's right, sinner, over the fence."
But Jesus replies, "I say not seven, but seventy times seven." No doubt Levi, one of his other disciples, a tax collector, is doing the math: 490. 490. Should I keep a record? That's what I do; I keep records. But that's not what he's saying, right? Forgive and forgive and forgive.
Then Jesus tells a story. It's the same story I told at the beginning of this message, although I kind of amplified it a little bit. There was a man, a master, a wealthy man who had servants to whom he extended money. One day, that man wanted to clear his account, so he called all of his servants before him. One of them was brought before him who owed him 10,000 denarii. That's 10,000 days' wages. Just take your day's wage and multiply it by 10,000. In modern terms, it was millions of dollars.
He brings the servant before him and says, "Pay me what you owe me." The servant replies, "I don't have any of it. I can't pay it back." The master then says, "You are to be sold, your wives and your children, and everything that you own is to be sold." The servant falls down and cries out, "Please have mercy on me and forgive me," and the master forgave him.
Now, unfortunately, that's not the whole story. If you want to hear the rest of the story, you have to come back next week.
Would you stand with me as we close in prayer?
Dear God, your grace is good. We are completely undeserving of your grace. Every one of us has or had a debt we cannot pay, and Jesus, you paid the debt. You redeemed and ransomed us from the tyranny of death and the slavery to sin. You have wiped it clean, and you have transformed our lives. Lord, may it transform our lives in such a way that is evident to other people. We thank you for your grace. We praise you for your grace. Thank you for your forgiveness. You have unchained us, and Lord, help us now to be changed.
It may be that as we stand here right now, you have not received the forgiving grace of God. It is a free gift. Jesus Christ, the Apostle Paul said, came into the world to forgive sinners, to pardon us, to set us free. If you would like to receive that forgiving grace of God this morning, that free gift, would you just lift your hand up high so I can see it?
I see someone in the back. Anyone else? God bless you over here to the right. God sees that hand, and He also has an open ear to hear you pray. I encourage you right now to pray this prayer out loud to the Lord.
Dear God, I know that I have failed. I know that my sin is great, and I cannot pay the debt. I thank you that you sent Jesus to die on the cross and to pay the debt. I pray that you would pardon my sin, that you would make me new, and that you'd help me to walk in obedience to you. In Jesus' name, and all those that agreed said, God is good.
Let's worship the Lord.
Scripture in this teaching
5Passages opened in this message
Related teachings
12Other messages that open the same passages