Unchained 3 – Motivating Forgiveness
October 19, 2015 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
Drawing on Paul's appeal to Philemon to receive his runaway slave Onesimus, this teaching shows that forgiveness is the personal responsibility of every Christian, made possible because Christ bore the just punishment for our sin and absorbed a debt we could never pay. Because we have been forgiven much, we should be compelled to extend forgiveness freely, unchaining us from the bitterness that destroys.
- Forgiveness is the personal responsibility of every Christian—no one can forgive on your behalf, not even Jesus.
- The struggle to forgive arises from the tension between love and justice, both of which God has placed in us as His image-bearers.
- Christ in us amplifies this tension because He both commands and compels us to love one another as He has loved us.
- In Christ, justice yields to love because Jesus bore the just punishment for our sin through substitutionary atonement.
- Our forgiven debt should compel us to forgive our debtors; he who is forgiven much loves much.
- Extending forgiveness unchains us from the bitterness that destroys the one who holds it.
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... 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 both to you and to me. I am sending him back... no longer as a slave but more than a slave—a brother... if then you count me as a partner, receive him as you would me. But if he has wronged you or owes you anything, put that on my account. I, Paul, am writing with my own hand. I will repay—not to mention that you owe me even your own self besides... The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.
How the forgiving grace we have received should compel us to forgive even those who have deeply wronged us.
A Story of Forgiveness Squandered
Word spread quickly about how he had pardoned such a massive debt. The number grew with every telling, and his reputation was forever changed. For years he had been known as hard, cold, even callous. Now people looked him in the eye and smiled. The change was bad for business, but it was nice—he had gotten used to things being a little different.
Then new news overshadowed it. The very man he had pardoned was now the talk of the town, and the creditor stood before him again. "Is it true what I hear? After I forgave you a debt you could never pay—is it true what you did?"
"Sir, let me explain. I could never repay the grace you showed me. But I have nothing—"
"Stop. You owed me 7.4 million dollars, and he owed you what—a few thousand? Thirty-five hundred, to be exact. I forgave you 7.4 million. I let you go a free man, and you threw this man into prison over so little? You're wicked. That's the only way to describe it. You don't grasp what I've done for you. I had compassion on you, I showed you pity, and you have shown this man no mercy. You will also be taken and thrown into prison."
The Background of Philemon
It was the early 60s AD. The Apostle Paul was in Rome, a prisoner of the Empire, facing trial on trumped-up charges of sedition. Because of his Roman citizenship, he had appealed to the highest court of the land and awaited the day he would stand before Caesar Nero.
While he was there, a runaway slave named Onesimus came to him. Onesimus had stolen from his master, Philemon, and fled roughly a thousand miles west to Rome. In God's sovereign direction, he ended up before Paul, who preached the gospel to him. Onesimus became a Christian. Now Paul was telling him, "You need to go back to your master and repent. Philemon is a good man—I'm certain he will receive you, even though he has the authority to throw you into prison or even have you put to death. I don't think he'll do that."
Philemon had come to faith under Paul's ministry some eight or nine years earlier. A wealthy businessman from Colossae, his life was completely transformed. He served Jesus with all he had, gave to those in need, and the church met in his home. So Paul said, "I'll send you back with a letter."
Paul's Appeal to Love
Paul tells Philemon, in effect: "I know you are a faithful follower of Jesus and a good man. You love your wife Apphia, you've raised a good son in Archippus, and you minister to the people of God. Even a thousand miles away, I hear reports from those who've stayed in your home and been blessed by your hospitality."
"I understand Onesimus has wronged you. He stole from you and ran away, and absorbing that cost has been a great burden. I get it. But he has become a follower of Jesus. It may be that he ran away for the very purpose of putting his faith in Christ. Can you imagine? Here I am a prisoner in Rome, and your runaway slave in a city of 800,000 people just happens to cross my path. How does that even happen? God does that. So I'm sending him back, and I want you to receive him no longer as a criminal, but as a brother in the faith."
Why should Philemon receive him? Shouldn't there be justice, punishment, restitution? Paul answers in : "If then you count me as a partner, receive him as you would me." Circle that word if. If you count me as your brother in Christ, then receive Onesimus as you would receive me.
Forgiveness Is the Christian's Personal Responsibility
Forgiveness is the personal responsibility of every Christian to receive and pardon one who has wronged him. Every one of us has been wronged by somebody, and every one of us has wronged somebody else. It is in our fallen nature. I can almost guarantee that I will offend you—if I haven't yet, you haven't been here long enough.
But it is your responsibility to forgive, and it is something you must choose to do personally. No friend, brother, or sister can offer forgiveness on your behalf. Jesus can't even do it for you. That word receive is pregnant with meaning—it means to receive without any strings attached, and that receiving is forgiveness.
One Bible teacher gives a simple definition: think of forgiveness as a promise never to take revenge. It is a verbally declared promise, a statement of love that affirms: I hold no anger, no hatred, no bitterness against you. It is threefold—I won't ever bring it up to you again, I won't bring it up to anyone else, and I won't bring it up to myself. I am completely releasing you. As John MacArthur said, "You are never more like God than when you forgive."
The Tension Between Love and Justice
Why is forgiveness so difficult? Because of the tension we experience between love and justice. By justice, I mean vindication—I want that person to acknowledge it, pay it back, and make clear they're sorry.
Evolutionary science has a hard time accounting for these two traits—love and justice. If we are merely a biological sequencing of mutations over billions of years, where did love and justice come from? Science can't answer that. The Christian can: we were created in the image of God, who is love and who is just, and He has imparted both to us.
Love and justice are linked. When someone wrongs you, because you love yourself, you want justice. When someone wrongs someone you love, you want justice. Vindication is easy when you have no relationship with the offender. You love justice—I can prove it. Driving the speed limit, when someone flies past and cuts you off, your first thought is, "Where's the CHP?" But when you're the one driving too fast and someone honks, your first thought is, "I hope that's not a cop." We want justice for others and mercy for ourselves, because we always love ourselves first.
Paul masterfully brings Philemon back to love. "If you count me as a companion, if you love me, then love Onesimus, because he is now your brother in Christ." Yes, Philemon had every legal right to enact justice—everyone would have said so. But Paul throws love into the equation. "Receive and pardon him just as you would receive and pardon me."
Christ in Us Amplifies the Tension
More than any person, the Christian struggles with the tension between love and justice, because Christ in us both commands and compels us to love. The Bible describes God as love by His very nature. When you become a follower of Jesus, the Spirit of Christ dwells in you—we are the temple of the Holy Spirit, and "Christ in you, the hope of glory."
Jesus gives the new commandment: love one another as I have loved you. "Love your neighbor as yourself" is in the Old Testament, but the newness is that we are to love each other the way Christ loved us. That's bigger. So because Christ dwells in us, commanding and compelling us to love, we feel this tension more than anyone. If we could just escape that commandment, vindication would be easy and plenty of people would justify it.
In Christ, Justice Yields to Love
In Christ, justice yields to love. First Corinthians 13 tells us love keeps no record of wrongs. It doesn't keep an accounting of every offense. Forgiveness—releasing someone, letting it go, refusing to hold anger, bitterness, malice, and wrath—is costly.
Look at : "But if he has wronged you or owes you anything, put that on my account." There's that word if again. Philemon had absorbed real cost—Onesimus's theft, his absence, his flight. Paul says, "Take what he owes you in that accounting sheet we all carry mentally, and move it from Onesimus's column to mine. Control-X, control-V. Cut and paste."
Then, at the start of , Paul says, "I, Paul, am writing with my own hand. I will repay." Most of Paul's letters were dictated—it's plausible Timothy was his secretary here—but now Paul takes the quill himself. "I owe you. I will repay it. I claim his debt as my own."
I don't know what debt is owed to you—emotionally, physically, spiritually—but you do. It's there in your accounting, and every time you see that person or hear their name, it surfaces instantly. Paul says, "Move it over to mine."
Jesus Bore the Just Punishment for Our Sin
On account of love, Jesus bore the just punishment for our sin. That is why justice yields to love in Christ. He took the debt you and I could never pay, bore it upon Himself, and on the cross said tetelestai—an accounting term meaning "it is finished," "paid in full." That is what it means to be a forgiven sinner. Jesus took all my failings—everything I ever did, said, or thought against God and against others—and absorbed it into Himself.
The entire Christian faith is built on this idea of substitutionary payment, what theologians call vicarious atonement. : "But God demonstrates His love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." This is love over justice. In His justice God had every reason to obliterate every one of us, yet He exalts His love and mercy over His judgment. Second Corinthians 5:21: "He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us." First Peter: Jesus suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust.
So Paul says, "Onesimus owes you a great debt. I claim it as my own. Move it to my account."
You Owe Me Even Your Own Self
Then the masterful turn at the end of : "Not to mention that you owe me even your own self besides." Onesimus owes you; now I owe you—but don't forget, you owe me far more.
Our forgiven debt should compel our forgiveness of debtors. It was Paul who shared the gospel with Philemon and led him to become a forgiven sinner. So Paul says, "Here's a way to pay your debt to me—by forgiving Onesimus. Just move it over to my account and let it be gone."
Every one of us has debtors. They may not owe you money, but they owe you respect, an apology, some form of restitution. If you have received the forgiving grace of God, that should stir and compel you to forgive. Jesus taught this in the Sermon on the Mount: "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." And immediately after the prayer, in , "If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."
The Unforgiving Servant
In , Peter asked Jesus, "How many times should I forgive my brother—up to seven?" The religious teachers said three was enough, so Peter thought seven was generous. Jesus said, "Up to seventy times seven"—490, but really there's no accounting of it; you just keep forgiving.
Then Jesus told the story of a king who forgave a man an enormous debt, but that same man seized someone who owed him a small debt and threw him into prison. When the master heard, he was angry and delivered the man to the torturers until he should pay all. Jesus concludes in : "So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses."
When we comprehend the forgiving grace of God toward us, it compels us to love more.
He Who Is Forgiven Much Loves Much
In , Jesus is invited to dinner at the house of Simon the Pharisee. A woman of the city, a sinner, comes weeping, washing His feet with her tears, wiping them with her hair, and anointing them with fragrant oil. Simon thinks, "If this man were a prophet, He would know what kind of woman this is." Jesus answers with a parable: a creditor forgave two debtors, one who owed five hundred denarii and one who owed fifty. "Which will love him more?" Simon answers, "The one he forgave more." Jesus explains that he who is forgiven much loves much.
When you grasp how much Christ has cleared from your account, it compels love. And when we are compelled by love, we are no longer compelled by vindication. We can rightly say, "Vengeance is God's; He will deal with it. I will no longer hold bitterness, anger, or malice. I won't bring it up to you, to others, or to myself."
The most awesome thing about God is that when He forgives us, He wipes it away—He removes our sin as far as the east is from the west and doesn't bring it back up. So when you fail tomorrow, doing the same thing you've done a million times, and come before Him saying, "Father, I'm sorry, I keep doing this," He says, "I don't even know what you're talking about, because I've cleared it away." That is forgiving grace.
Walk Humbly, Love Mercy
says, "He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you but to do justly"—not "love justice," but do justly, do what is right as much as it depends on you—"to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Walking humbly means recognizing the debt Jesus has paid on your behalf.
When we grasp the greatness of that debt, it produces greater love for Him and greater love for others, and that love compels us to compassion and mercy even toward those who have wronged us. Receiving the forgiving grace of God unchains us from the bondage of sin and death. But extending forgiving grace to others unchains us from the bitterness that builds up and destroys us. There are many people whose bitterness is killing only the one who holds it. So my encouragement is not only to receive the forgiving grace of God, but to freely extend it to others, that you would be unchained from the burden of bitterness, anger, wrath, and malice.
Closing Prayer
Father, I pray that our lives would be like the life of Philemon, who refreshed the hearts of other people, who brought joy and comfort and consolation to others as we walk as You walk, forgive as You have forgiven, and extend grace as You have graced us. Lord, may our lives be refreshing to people, because we live in a world that wants vindication and justice, with very little forgiveness, grace, and love. God, I pray that we who have Your love and grace in us would be those who extend it to others. Help us to be forgiving; help us to be gracious. We ask this in Jesus' name, and all those who agree said, Amen.
Word spread quickly on the street about how he had pardoned such a massive debt. Of course, the number seemed to increase with every telling of the story, and his reputation was forever changed. For many years, he was known as hard; some people referred to him as cold. In fact, the word "callous" often came up when they would describe him. Yet now, when he walked around, people would actually look him in the eye and smile at him. Although the reputation change was really bad for business, it was kind of nice. He had gotten used to things being a little bit different.
But be that as it may, the news was now overshadowed by some new news. In fact, the name of the one he had pardoned that great debt was now the talking point of the town. Everybody was speaking about this forgiving debtor, and now he stood before the creditor once again.
"Is it true what I hear? Is it true what you did? That after I forgave you and pardoned you a debt that you could never pay, is it true what's being told to me?"
"Sir, let me explain. You don't understand. I could never repay the grace that you've shown to me. I just could never repay it. But truly, I have nothing. I just had to stop."
"You owed me 7.4 million dollars, and he owed you what? A few thousand?"
"Well, it was 3,500 to be exact, but you don't understand."
"I know. Stop. I forgave you 7.4 million. I pardoned you. I let you go away a free man, and you did what to this man? He owed you so little, and you took him and you... you did what? You threw him into prison?"
"You don't understand. You really... yeah, it's just... no, it's nothing. You're wicked."
The scenario can be described as follows: you are wicked, and you do not understand or grasp in any way what it is that I have done for you. This is how you repay it? I had compassion on you; I showed you pity, and you have shown this man no mercy whatsoever. I cannot stand to have someone like you even in my territory. Therefore, you also will be taken and thrown into prison.
It was the early 60s AD, and the Apostle Paul was in the city of Rome, a prisoner of the Empire, facing a trial on charges of sedition against the Roman Empire. Of course, those charges were trumped up by enemies of the Ministry of the Apostle Paul, who were trying to do away with him. Because of his Roman citizenship, he had appealed to the highest court of the land, and now he was awaiting the day when he would stand before Caesar Nero.
While he was in that situation, a man came to him. This man had a mutual acquaintance or friend with the Apostle Paul. He was a runaway slave named Onesimus. Having run away from his master, Philemon, whom Paul knew very well, he had stolen from him and traveled some thousand miles to the west, arriving in Rome. Somehow, in God's sovereign direction, he was brought before Paul. Paul preached the gospel to Onesimus, and he became a Christian.
Now, Paul was telling him, "You need to go back. You need to go back to your master, Philemon, and repent." Paul expressed confidence in Philemon, saying, "I know he is a good man; he will receive you. I am certain he will receive you, even though he has the authority to throw you into prison. He could even have you put to death for stealing from him and running away."
When asked what he meant by that, Paul reiterated, "I don't think he will do that. He is a good man." Philemon had also come to faith under the Ministry of Paul some eight or nine years prior to the events we are studying in this book.
The Gospel of Philemon tells the story of a wealthy businessman from the city of Colossae who became a follower of Jesus. His life was completely transformed; he began to serve Jesus with all that he had. He started to give to those in need and support those within the church who had nothing. The church met in his home.
Paul said to Onesimus, "Listen, I know this man Philemon. I'm certain he will receive you. But here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to send you back with a letter, the letter that we're studying through called the Book of Philemon in the New Testament." If you would open your Bibles to Philemon, it is a short little book right before the big book of Hebrews, near the very end of your Bibles. If you don't have a Bible, you can raise your hand, and one of our ushers will bring you one.
Would you stand with me as we close out the letter to Philemon today? We will begin reading at .
"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 and toward all the saints. I pray 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, 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 the 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 he is profitable both to you and to me. I am sending Onesimus back to you; therefore, receive him, that is, my own heart, 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."
It were but voluntary, for perhaps he departed for a while for this purpose, that you might receive him forever. No longer is he a slave, but more than a slave, a brother, especially to you. And how much more, or especially to me, and how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.
If then you count me as a partner, receive him as you would me. But if he has wronged you or owes you anything, put it on my account. I, Paul, am writing with my own hand; I will repay. Not to mention that you owe to me even your own self besides. Yes, brother, let me have joy from you in the Lord; refresh my heart in the Lord.
Having confidence in your obedience, I write to you knowing that you will do even more than I say. But meanwhile, also prepare a guest room for me, for I trust that through your prayers I shall be granted to you.
Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, greets you, as do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, Luke, and my fellow laborers. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.
As we open to these last words from Paul's letter to Philemon, I pray that you would give insight and understanding. I pray that you would continue to transform us by the renewing of our minds, that we would see in our lives the effect of grace and forgiveness, and that it would be the effect that causes us to also be gracious and forgiving.
So, God, thank you for setting us free, Lord, that we would be unchained from the bondage to sin and death, and that we would be able to serve you in righteousness. I pray that this is the way that we would live our lives. We ask this in Jesus' name, and all those that agreed said, "Amen."
You can be seated.
Paul says to Philemon, "I know that you are a faithful follower of Jesus. You're not only a faithful follower of Jesus, but you're a good man. You love your wife, Apphia. You have raised a good son, Archippus, and he's a servant there in the church in Colossae. You minister to the people of God; you are faithful to the Lord in the way that you follow Him. You're an encouragement to me, even though I'm a thousand miles away."
News reports from people who come from Colossae, who stayed in your home and have been blessed by your hospitality, have reached me here in Rome. They have said that Philemon is a great man, a servant of the Lord. I understand that Onesimus has wronged you; I know that he has taken from you and has run away. The cost of him running away and you having to absorb that cost has been great for you. I get it; I know that this has been a big deal.
However, he has become a follower of Jesus. It might even be that he ran away for the very purpose of putting his faith in Christ. By the providence of God, he ended up before me. Can you imagine how awesome that is, Philemon? Here I am, a prisoner in Rome, and your runaway slave, in a city of 800,000 people, just happens to cross my path. How does that even happen? But God does that.
Onesimus has put his faith in Christ, and there has been a transformation in his life, just as you have been transformed by the gospel of grace. He wants to do the right thing, so he is going back. I am sending him back to you, and I want you to receive him no longer as someone who has committed a crime against you, no longer as someone who has run away or stolen from you, but as someone who is now a brother. Yes, he is still a servant, but he is your brother in the faith. I am asking you to receive him and welcome him back home to yourself.
That's a good sound, isn't it? Praise the Lord for rain! You pay a lot of money for rain sticks that make that kind of noise, but I don't need that today; that is good sound. We never thought about what it might sound like when we put a tin roof on top, but then again, it only rains like once every ten years, so it's all good.
I want you to receive him, Philemon. Why should I receive him, Paul? Why should I accept him back just because he is coming back? I get it that he is doing the right thing, but he is only doing the right thing because before he did the wrong thing. Why should I send him back just because it is your desire that he comes back to me? Of course, you would desire that he would do that, just because you wish that I would forgive him. That's why I should receive him—just because he has become a Christian.
Why should I receive him? Shouldn't there be a punishment? Shouldn't there be justice and restitution in this whole situation? Paul, why should I receive him?
Paul answers that simple question in of Philemon. "If then you count me as a partner, receive him as you would me." Circle that word "if" in your Bible. If you count me as a partner, a companion, a friend, a co-laborer, someone you're joined to, a brother in Christ, then I want you to receive him as you would receive me. But it's on you, Philemon. It's a choice.
Point number one on your outline, if you have your sermon guide there, is that forgiveness is the personal responsibility of every Christian. Forgiveness is the personal responsibility of every Christian to receive and pardon one who has wronged you.
I get it; every single one of us has been wronged by somebody, if not many people. It is because of our fallen nature. It is in our capacity, and not just in our capacity, but it is something we do on a regular basis where we offend and upset people. I can pretty much guarantee that I will offend and upset you. If I haven't yet, you haven't been here long enough. But I guarantee there will be something that I say from the Scriptures or something that I teach that you will be offended by, and you'll be walking away thinking, "I didn't care for that," or "I didn't like that."
I get it. Sometimes I'll even get notes from people who let me know, most of the time anonymously, that they've been offended. We offend people, and so every one of us has been wronged. The fact is, every one of us has wronged somebody before. But it is the personal responsibility of the Christian to forgive, and it is something that you must choose to do personally. I can't make you forgive, and I can't forgive for you. Your friend, your brother, your sister—they can't offer forgiveness on your behalf. It's something you have to do. It's a personal responsibility.
Paul writes to Philemon, saying that if he considers him to be a partner, a companion in Christ, then he needs to receive Onesimus. The word "receive" carries the idea that Philemon needs to forgive him and pardon him for the injustice he has done by running away and stealing from him. This word is pregnant with meaning; it means to receive without any attachments—no strings attached. Ultimately, it is up to Philemon to choose whether or not he is going to do that. This act of receiving is forgiveness.
I had someone ask me last week for a good definition of forgiveness. To pardon and to release someone is one way to describe it. However, as I was reading through some materials this week, I came across a definition from a Bible teacher I really like. He said that if you want a simple definition of forgiveness, think of it as a promise to never take revenge. He elaborated that it is a verbally declared promise, a statement of love that affirms, "I hold no anger, I hold no hatred, I hold no bitterness against you."
Forgiveness has a three-fold perspective: I won't ever bring it up to you again, I won't ever bring it up to anyone else, and I won't ever bring it up to myself. I am completely releasing you from it; I won't dwell on it any longer. The same teacher, John MacArthur, made a striking statement: "You are never more like God than when you forgive."
I don't know if you all remember, but about 15 to 20 years ago, people wore little bracelets with the letters WWJD on them. Does anyone remember those? They stood for "What Would Jesus Do?" The whole point was that we, as Christians, wanted to live and follow Jesus; we wanted to be like Jesus. If you want to be like Jesus and you want to be like God, then remember that you are never more like God than when you forgive. To completely release someone, to no longer dwell on it, and to no longer bring it up to them or to someone else—that's hard, isn't it?
It's very hard, especially for those who are married. I've been married for ten years this next year, and we always get along. We never have any arguments; everything's perfect all the time. Your pastor just totally straight-faced lied to you. There’s never a time when it comes back to my mind, "Well, you did this and you said that," and there's never a time that I ever want to bring that back up. We'll just leave that there.
This responsibility to forgive is the responsibility of the Christian, and it is difficult. Why is it difficult? What makes the choice to forgive or not forgive difficult is the tension that we experience between love and justice. When I say justice, I mean vindication. I want vindication. I want that person to accept it, pay it back, and make it clear that they're sorry. I want vindication, and that's a desire within us.
It's really interesting; evolutionary science has a hard time with these two characteristics of humanity: love and justice. The question is, where did this come from? If we are just a biological sequencing of mutations over millions and billions of years, then how is it that there came to be humanity that has this propensity for love and for justice? Science can't answer that, but the Christian can answer that because we were created in the image and likeness of God. God is love, and God is just, and so He has imparted love and justice into us as well.
We are creatures that have the capacity for love and are also strange creatures that want justice. We want vindication; we want something to be done to make it right. Love and justice are linked together in that we all have this desire for justice, and we are all created to love. When someone does something wrong to you or someone does something wrong to me, because we love ourselves, we want...
Justice is a concept that is deeply linked to our sense of self and our relationships. When someone does something wrong to us, our love for ourselves drives us to seek vindication and justice. Similarly, when someone wrongs a person we care about, we also desire justice on their behalf. It is easy to advocate for justice when we have no personal connection to the individual involved. In such cases, we can readily declare that they deserve justice.
We can see this in our everyday experiences. Most of us are drivers, and when we are on the freeway, we often find ourselves adhering to the speed limit. Imagine you are driving at 65 miles per hour, and suddenly, another driver speeds past you, cutting you off and nearly causing an accident. What is the first thought that crosses your mind? You might think, "I wish I were a cop," or "Where is the California Highway Patrol?" This reaction illustrates our inherent desire for justice; we want to see that driver held accountable for breaking the law.
However, the situation changes when we are the ones who have made a mistake. If we are driving slightly over the speed limit and cut someone off, only to be met with a honk or an angry gesture, our thoughts shift. We might glance in the rearview mirror, hoping that the person we cut off is not a police officer. In that moment, we desire mercy for ourselves rather than justice.
This connection between love and justice becomes more complex when relationships are involved. When someone we love has done something wrong, it is often easier for us to overlook their faults. We may find ourselves urging others to give them the benefit of the doubt or to extend mercy. Our love for that person influences our perspective, leading us to prioritize compassion over justice.
Ultimately, we tend to seek mercy for ourselves and those we love, while advocating for justice for those we do not have a personal connection with. This reflects a fundamental truth: we inherently love ourselves. It is a default state of being, and this self-love shapes our views on justice and mercy in our interactions with others.
You're the first person on your mind when you wake up in the morning. You're the first person you look for in a picture. In fact, a picture is determined to be good or bad based on how you look. Everybody else could look perfect in the picture, but if you don't look so good, you think, "Well, that's a bad picture." That's why we love Photoshop; we can tweak and alter those sorts of things and take out that funny look. You know, the half-smile when you're getting ready to smile, and they snap too quick. They go one, two instead of one, two, three. We all know that's terrible.
But Paul, here in this passage, masterfully brings Philemon back to love. In , he says, "If you count me as a companion, if you consider me your brother, your friend." You see how he does that? He brings the picture back to love instead of justice. Yes, Philemon had the authority to enact justice. He had all the wherewithal to do that, and everybody would have said he was perfectly legitimate in bringing justice. But Paul switches things up and introduces the idea of love into this whole discussion of justice.
He says, "If you count me as your brother in Christ, if you love me, then you need to love Onesimus, even though he has wronged you, because he is also now your brother in Christ." This is mastery. So, receive and pardon him just in the same way that you'd receive and pardon me. If it was me, Paul says to Philemon, who owed you this debt, you'd say, "What is that between brothers?" Therefore, I want you to receive and pardon Onesimus in the same way that you would receive and pardon me.
More than anyone, the Christian struggles with the tension between love and justice. Why? Because Christ in you amplifies this tension. He both commands and compels us to love. The Bible describes God as being, by His very nature, love.
Is love. Jesus is love incarnate, and when you become a follower of Jesus, the Spirit of Christ dwells in you. Paul writes in one of his letters that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit of God. So, Christ is in us. At the very same time, Paul would write to Philemon, addressing the church at Colossae, which we will study in a couple of weeks. In Colossians, he says, "Christ in you, the hope of glory." We have Christ in us, and since Christ is in us as Christians, if you're a Christian today, then He dwells in us and compels us to love. He commands us to love one another. That's the new commandment that He gives: "I command you to love one another."
Now, that's not new; it's something we find in the Old Testament: "Love your neighbor as yourself." However, the newness of the law that Jesus gives in the Gospel of John, which is reiterated a number of times throughout the New Testament, is that the new commandment is to love one another as I have loved you. That's a bit bigger, isn't it? If you're a Christian today, Jesus says, "I want you to love each other as I have loved you."
So, He commands us to love. Since we have Christ dwelling in us and this command from Him to love one another as He has loved us, He compels us by His love for us to love other people. We struggle with this tension between love and justice more than any other people. If I could just get away from this commandment to love, it would be easy to want vindication. There will be all kinds of people who would justify my desire for justice and vindication.
But what about what's right? What about restitution? What about the payment? Point number three: in Christ, justice yields to love. In Christ, justice yields to love because there is a passage in the Bible that defines and describes love for us: . There, we are told that love keeps no record of wrongs. Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Doesn't have an accounting of every time that person said something or did something. This is the 417th time that you've done the same thing that makes me mad every single time you do it. But love keeps no record of that.
We struggle with this tension between love and justice because we desire vindication. Yet Christ dwells in us, and He has commanded and compelled us to love. That forgiveness, the releasing of someone and letting it go, means I'm not going to bring it up to you. I'm not going to bring it up to other people. I'm not going to dwell on it anymore. I'm completely releasing you. I will not hold anger, bitterness, malice, or wrath. I'm not going to hold on to that anymore. I'm letting it go. That's costly.
Look at what Paul says in of Philemon. "But if," there's that word "if" again, "he Onesimus has wronged you, he owes you anything." Well, yes, Paul, he does owe me some money. I’ve had to absorb the cost of him leaving. I've had to absorb the cost of him stealing from me. I've had to absorb the cost of him not being here. So, yes, it has been costly to me.
"If he has wronged you and owes you anything, put that on my account, Philemon." If he owes you anything, I want you to take what he owes you in that record book that you have, in that accounting sheet that we all have mentally, and some people even have it written down. I want you to take that and move it from Onesimus's column to my column. Just swap it over there. You know, control X, control V, cut, paste. No longer there; it's now under the account of Paul. Move that to my account.
If you count me as a co-laborer, a brother in Christ, if you love me and you would receive me to yourself, then receive Onesimus. If he owes you anything, put it on my account.
Now notice what Paul says here at the beginning of : "I, Paul, am writing with my own hand. I will repay." Now, we know most of Paul's letters were written by dictation. That is, he would sit down and speak what he wanted written, and someone would write it.
It’s very plausible that Timothy is the one writing this down as Paul mentions him at the very beginning of this book. Timothy serves as Paul's secretary. However, at the end of this letter, Paul says, "Give me that quill; I want to write something with my own hand." He expresses his desire to take what was accounted to Onesimus and put it on his own account. Paul writes, "I owe you; I will repay it."
We don't know exactly how much Onesimus owed to Philemon, but I'm sure it was substantial. I don't know what it is that is owed to you from the person who has wronged you—emotionally, physically, or spiritually. Whatever the debt is, you know it’s there; it’s in the accounting of things. We are really good at filing those things away, and every time we see that person, or every time that person's name is mentioned, or every time we hear about them, it comes to the surface instantly. There it is, and there's the filing, there's the accounting.
Paul says to Philemon, "I want you to take what is on Onesimus's account and move it over to mine. I claim his debt as my own; I will repay it." In Christ, justice yields to love.
Point number four on your outline is: on account of love, Jesus bore the just punishment for our sin. Why does justice yield to love in Christ? That’s what the description is for the Christian. If you are a Christian, Christ dwells in you, and you are in Christ. Justice yields to love because He took the debt that you and I could never pay. He took it upon Himself and paid that debt.
There on the cross, He said those wonderful words, the last words of Christ: "Tetelestai" in Greek, which means "It is finished" or "Paid in full." That’s what it means to be a forgiven sinner. Jesus bore my sin, all my failings, everything I ever did, said, or thought against God, against His nature, and against other people. He took all of that.
On Himself, He bore the punishment to pay for that debt—a debt that I could never pay, a debt that you could never pay. He completely absorbed it in Himself and moved it all over to His account. The entirety of the Christian faith is based upon this idea of a substitutionary payment. It is referred to as vicarious redemption or substitutionary atonement by theologians. The entire basis of the Christian faith is built upon that concept: that He bore my sin and your sin in Himself. We put our trust in Him, and because we put our faith in Him, He forgives us.
states, "But God demonstrates His love towards us, that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." This is love over justice. God had every reason in His justice to completely obliterate every single one of us, yet He exalts His love and His mercy alongside His justice. Christ demonstrates the love of God; while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
Second Corinthians 5:21 tells us, "For He made Him, Jesus, who knew no sin, to become sin for us." Peter says in that Jesus suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust. He took it upon Himself. Paul says in Philemon that Onesimus owes you a great debt, and he claims that debt as his own, moving it over to his account. This is substitutionary payment, vicarious redemption.
I am going to stand in and pay the debt. I love this; this is incredible. At the end of , Paul reminds Philemon, "not to mention to you that you owe me even your own self besides." This is perfect and masterful. Onesimus owes you, but now I owe you what he owed you. But don't forget, you owe me a lot more.
Point number five: our forgiven debt should compel our forgiveness of debtors. Our forgiven debt should compel our...
Forgiveness of debtors is a significant theme in the teachings of Paul. He reminds Philemon, and I'm sure that Philemon didn't even need a major reminder of this, that it was Paul who shared the gospel with him. It was Paul who led him to be a forgiven sinner. Paul says, "Listen, I shared the gospel with you, and so you're indebted to me for sharing the gospel with you. Here's a way that you can pay that debt: by forgiving Onesimus. Just move it over to my account and let it be gone."
Our forgiven debt should compel us; it should stir us and move us to forgive debtors. Every single one of us has debtors. They may not owe you money, but they owe you respect, an apology, or some form of restitution. If you've been forgiven by Christ and have received the forgiving grace of God, then that should stir and compel you to also forgive.
This was the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. In , He commands or teaches His disciples how to pray: "Our Father which art in heaven." You've probably heard that prayer before. At the end of the prayer, it says, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Then Jesus goes on in the very next words after that prayer. In , He says, "For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you your trespasses. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses."
The teaching of Jesus was heavy. It is this: you will not receive further forgiveness if you cannot be one who also forgives. I told the story at the beginning of this service, and I began the story at the beginning of the last service as well. It's a story from . Peter, one of Jesus's disciples, says to Jesus, "How many times should I forgive my brother? Up to seven times?" This was apparently a big deal because the religious teachers of the day said you only had to forgive someone three times. So Peter asks, "Should I forgive him seven times?" Jesus replies, "No, I say up to seventy times seven," which is 490 times. But even greater, there's no accounting of it; you just forgive and forgive.
Then He tells the story about a king, a creditor, who called all of those who...
He owed him debts, and one came before him that owed a huge debt. He extended forgiveness to the man as he cried out for mercy. However, that man, who had been forgiven this great debt of five hundred denarii, went and found someone who owed him a very small debt. He said, "You owe me this thousand dollars," or whatever it was, a few thousand dollars. When the man pleaded, "I can't pay; would you have pity on me?" he responded with no compassion. Instead, he said, "No, I'm going to take you," and threw him in prison.
His master brought him before him once again, as recorded in . The master was angry and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay every last bit. Then Jesus finished the teaching with the very last verse of . He said, "So my heavenly Father also will do to you if each one of you from his own heart does not forgive his brother's trespass."
Every one of us feels the tension between love and justice. We love ourselves and want justice for ourselves. We love those who are near to us and desire justice and vindication when someone has wronged them. But when we find Christ, we realize that we, who should have received justice, have been given forgiveness and grace. When we begin to comprehend the forgiving grace of God and what He has given to us, it should compel us to love more.
Turn in your Bibles, if you would, to the Gospel of Luke, chapter 7. If you are in the book of Philemon, just turn to the left. You will pass a whole bunch of books, and ultimately, you will pass a big book called Acts, then John, and then you will get to Luke.
In , there is a great story beginning in . Jesus is invited to the house of a religious leader, a Pharisee, to have dinner. He goes to this Pharisee's house, and as he is there, something incredible happens. states, "Then one of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went to the Pharisee's house and sat down to eat."
Behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, learned that Jesus sat at the table in the Pharisee's house. She brought an alabaster flask of fragrant oil and stood behind Him at His feet, weeping. She began to wash His feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head. She kissed His feet and anointed them with the fragrant oil. When the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself...
Jesus went to his house, and when he saw this, he spoke within himself. He had a thought go through his mind: "This man, if he were a prophet, would know what manner of woman this is, and he would not allow her to touch him, for she is a sinner."
Jesus, perceiving his thoughts, said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." Simon the Pharisee replied, "Teacher, say it."
Jesus continued, "There was a certain creditor who had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they had nothing with which to pay, he freely forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them do you suppose will love the master more?"
Simon answered, "I suppose the one whom he forgave more." Jesus went on to explain that he who is forgiven much loves much. When you begin to recognize the debt that has been pardoned by Christ Jesus on your behalf, and when you comprehend just how much He has given to clear you and wipe the debt away, it compels love.
When we are compelled by love, we will no longer be compelled by vindication. We can rightly say that vengeance is God's; He will deal with it. On my end, I will no longer hold bitterness, anger, or malice. I vow to no longer bring it up to you, to others, or to dwell on it myself.
The most awesome thing about God is that when He receives us and forgives us sinners, He wipes it away. He removes our sin as far as the East is from the West; He casts it away to no longer be remembered. He doesn't bring it back up, which is an incredible thing.
This means that when you fail tomorrow and do the same thing you have done a million times, and you go before Jesus every single time and say, "Jesus, forgive me," and then you trip and fall flat on your face one more time, you can come before Him and say, "Father, I'm sorry I keep doing this." God responds, "I don't even know what you're talking about because I've cleared it away."
That is forgiving grace, and the forgiving grace of God in my life should stir us all.
Love is one of my favorite verses. We're actually going to be covering it in our Wednesday night series, as well as in our men's, women's, and youth ministry, as we go through the book of Micah. It's found in . There, the prophet Micah says, "He has shown you, O man, what is good and what the Lord requires of you."
It's really funny; I've asked people before, "Hey, do you remember ?" They kind of remember that verse and will say, "He's shown you, O man, what is good, what the Lord requires of you," and then they say, "But to love justice." That's not what it says. It says to do justly, to do what's right. As much as it is upon you, you should do what's right.
The very next statement is to love mercy. You should live in such a way where you do what's right with other people, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. Walking humbly means recognizing the debt that has been paid on your behalf by Jesus. When we begin to grasp the greatness of the debt that Jesus has paid for each of us, it will cause us to have greater love for Him and greater love for others. That love will compel us to be compassionate and merciful, even toward those people who have wronged us.
You see, the awesome thing about receiving the forgiving grace of God is that it unchains us from the bondage of sin and death. But the incredible thing about being one who extends forgiving grace to others is that it unchains us from the terror of the bitterness that builds up in our lives and destroys us. There are a lot of people who have a lot of bitterness, and the only one it is killing is the one who has the bitterness.
So my encouragement would be not only to receive the forgiving grace of God but to freely extend it to others. This way, you would be unchained from the burden of bitterness, anger, wrath, and malice.
Would you stand with me as we close in prayer? Father, I pray that our lives would be like the life of Philemon, that we would refresh the hearts of other people and bring joy, comfort, and consolation to others as we walk as You walk.
Forgive as you have forgiven. As we extend grace, as you have given grace to us, Lord, may our lives be refreshing to people. We live in a world that seeks vindication and justice, where there is very little forgiveness, grace, and love.
God, I pray that we, who have your love and grace within us, would be those who extend it to others. Help us to be forgiving and gracious. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.
Now, let's sing to the Lord.
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