Homilies on Philemon
Homily 1 — Philemon 1, verses 1 to 3
Philemon 1, verses 1 to 3
“Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ, and Timothy our brother, to Philemon, our dearly beloved and fellow worker, and to our beloved Apphia, 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.”
These words are written to a master on behalf of a slave. Right at the outset Paul has brought the man’s pride down and kept him from feeling ashamed; he has put out his anger. By calling himself a prisoner he pierces the man’s heart, brings him to his senses, and shows him that the things of this life are nothing. For if a chain worn for Christ’s sake is no shame but something to boast of, much less is slavery to be thought a disgrace. And he says this not to exalt himself but for a good purpose: by it he shows that he deserves to be trusted. Nor does he do it for his own sake, but so that he may more easily win the favor he asks. It is as if he had said: “It is on your account that I wear this chain.” He says the same thing elsewhere too, but there it shows his care for his readers, and here it shows that he can be trusted.
Nothing is a greater boast than this: to be called “the branded one of Christ.” “For I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus” (Galatians 6, verse 17).
“The prisoner of the Lord.” For he had been put in chains for the Lord’s sake. Who would not be struck with awe, who would not be humbled, on hearing of chains worn for Christ? Who would not be ready to give up even his own life, let alone one household servant?
“And Timothy our brother.” He joins another man with himself as well, so that Philemon, being asked by many, may give way more readily and grant the favor.
“To Philemon, our dearly beloved and fellow worker.” If he is “beloved,” then Paul’s confidence is not presumption or pushiness but the proof of great affection. If he is a “fellow worker,” then not only may he be advised in a matter like this, but he ought to count it as a favor done to himself. For he is pleasing himself; he is building up the same work. So, Paul says, “apart from any request, you have another reason that obliges you to grant the favor. For if he is useful to the good news, and you are eager to advance the good news, then you ought not to be begged — you ought to do the begging.”
Verse 2: “And to our beloved Apphia.” It seems to me that she was his wife. Notice Paul’s humility: he joins Timothy with himself in his request, and he asks not only the husband but the wife too, and someone else as well, perhaps a friend.
“And Archippus,” he says, “our fellow soldier.” He does not want to bring such things about by command, and he does not take it badly if Philemon does not grant his request at once. Instead he asks them to do what even an outsider might have done to help his request along. For a request is more likely to be granted not only when many ask, but when it is put to many. That is why he says, “And Archippus our fellow soldier.” “If you are a fellow soldier, you too ought to take an interest in these things.” This is the Archippus of whom he says in his letter to the Colossians, “Say to Archippus, ‘Take care to fulfill the ministry you have received in the Lord’” (Colossians 4, verse 17). It seems to me, too, that the man he joins with himself in this request was also one of the clergy. And he calls him his fellow soldier so that he will by all means work together with him.
“And to the church in your house.” Here he has not left out even the slaves. For he knew that the words of slaves often have the power to turn their master around, especially when the request was on behalf of a slave. And perhaps it was they above all who had made him angry. So he does not let them fall into envy: he has honored them by including them in a greeting together with their masters. At the same time he does not let the master take offense.
For if he had named them, perhaps Philemon would have been angry; and if he had not mentioned them at all, they might have been hurt. Notice, then, how wisely he has found a way, by the manner in which he mentions them, both to honor them by naming them and not to wound him. For the name “church” does not allow masters to be angry, even though they are counted together with their servants. For the church does not know the distinction between master and servant.
By good deeds and by sins she marks off the one from the other. If, then, it is a church, do not be displeased that your slave is greeted along with you. “For in Christ Jesus there is neither slave nor free” (Galatians 3, verse 28). “Grace to you, and peace.”
By mentioning “grace,” he reminds him of his own sins. “Consider how great the things are that God has pardoned in you, how it is by grace that you are saved. Imitate your Lord.” And he prays for “peace” for him, and rightly, for peace comes when we imitate him, and then grace remains.
Even that servant who was unmerciful to his fellow servants had his master’s grace resting on him until he demanded the hundred denarii. But when he made that demand, it was taken from him, and he was handed over to the torturers.
With these things in mind, then, let us also be merciful and forgiving toward those who have wronged us. The offenses against us here are a hundred denarii, but ours against God are ten thousand talents. And you know that offenses are also weighed by the rank of the person offended. For instance, someone who insults a private citizen has done wrong, but not as much as someone who insults an official. Whoever offends a higher official offends more seriously, and whoever offends a lower one, less so; but whoever insults the king offends far more. The injury is the same, but it becomes greater because of the dignity of the person. And if whoever insults a king receives a punishment past bearing, because of the king’s higher rank, how many talents will the one who insults God have to answer for? So even if we were to commit against God only the same offenses we commit against men, even so it would not be an equal thing. As great as the difference is between God and men, so great is the difference between offenses against him and offenses against them.
But now I find that our offenses are greater, not only because they grow great through the dignity of the person, but by their very nature. What I am about to say is a terrible saying, truly frightening, but it has to be said, so that even in this way it may shake our minds and strike them with terror. It shows that we fear men far more than God, and honor men far more than God. Consider: the adulterer knows that God sees him, and yet he pays God no attention; but if a man sees him, he holds back his lust.
Does not such a person not only honor men above God, and not only insult God, but — what is far more dreadful — despise God while he fears them?
For if he sees them, he holds back the flame of his lust. But what flame am I talking about? It is not a flame; it is willfulness. If it were not lawful to have relations with a woman at all, the thing might perhaps be called a flame; but as it is, it is outrage and loose living. If he sees men, he stops his mad passion; but for the patience of God he has less regard.
Again, another man steals. He knows he is committing robbery; he tries to deceive men, defends himself against those who accuse him, and dresses up his defense to look respectable. But though he cannot get the better of God this way, he pays God no attention, does not stand in awe of him, and does not honor him. If the king commands us to keep our hands off other people’s goods, or even to give away our own, everyone contributes readily; but when God commands us not to rob and not to heap up other people’s goods, we do not hold back.
Do you see, then, that we honor men more than God? It is a sad and painful saying, a heavy charge. Then show that you find it painful: run from the deed! But if you are not afraid of the deed, how can I believe you when you say, “We are afraid of your words; you are laying a burden on us!” It is you who lay the burden on yourselves by what you do, not our words. You do the deeds, and if I merely name them, you take offense. Is that not absurd?
May what I have said prove false! I would rather be charged myself, on that day, with abusive speech, as one who rebuked you idly and without cause, than see you accused of such things.
But you not only honor men more than God; you force others to do the same. Many have forced their household servants and slaves in this way. Some have pushed them into marriage against their will; others have forced them to serve shameful purposes — disgraceful love affairs, plunder, fraud and violence. So the charge is double, and they cannot obtain pardon by pleading necessity either. For if you do wrong yourself unwillingly, at the command of someone in authority, even that is by no means a sufficient excuse; but the offense becomes heavier when you force them, too, to fall into the same sins.
What pardon can there be any longer for such a person?
I have said these things not because I want to condemn you, but to show in how many things we are debtors to God. For if we insult God by honoring men even equally with him, how much more when we honor men above him? And if the offenses committed against men are shown to be much greater when they are committed against God, how much more when the offense itself is greater and more serious by its own nature?
Let anyone examine himself, and he will see that he does everything for the sake of men. We would be blessed indeed if we did as many things for God’s sake as we do for the sake of men, and of their opinion, and out of fear of them or respect for them. If, then, we have so much to answer for, we ought to forgive with all eagerness those who injure us and cheat us, and not bear a grudge. For there is a way to the forgiveness of our sins that needs no labor, no spending of wealth, nothing else at all but our own choice. We do not need to set out on journeys, or go beyond the borders of our country, or face dangers and hardships. We need only to will it.
Tell me, what excuse will we have in things that seem difficult, when we do not do even a light thing — one that brings so much gain, so much benefit, and no trouble at all? Can you not despise wealth? Can you not spend what you have on the needy? Can you not will anything good? Can you not forgive the one who has injured you? Even if you did not have so much to answer for, and God had simply commanded you to forgive, should you not do it? But as it is, when you have so much to answer for, do you not forgive — and that, knowing that you are required to do it because of what you have received from him?
When we go to someone who owes us, and he knows why we have come, he welcomes us warmly, shows us honor, and attends to us generously in every way. He does this not because he is paying off his debt, but because he wants to make us merciful in demanding payment. And you, who owe God so much and are commanded to forgive so that you may be forgiven in return, do you not forgive? Why not, I beg you? Woe is me! How much goodness we receive, and what wickedness we show in return! What drowsiness! What laziness! How easy virtue is, and how much it brings with it; and how much toil vice is! Yet we run from what is so light and chase after what is heavier than lead.
Here there is no need of bodily strength, or wealth, or possessions, or power, or friendship, or anything else. It is enough simply to will it, and everything is done. Has someone grieved you, insulted you, mocked you? Then consider how often you have done such things to others, and even to the Lord himself; hold back, and forgive him. Consider that you say, “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors” (Matthew 6, verse 12). Consider that if you do not forgive, you will not be able to say this with confidence; but if you forgive, you claim the thing as a debt owed to you — not because of the nature of the thing itself, but because of the love for humankind of the One who has granted it. For how is it fair that someone who forgives his fellow servants should receive forgiveness for the sins committed against the Lord? And yet we do receive such great love for humankind, because he is rich in mercy and compassion.
And to show that even apart from all this, even without the forgiveness, you gain by forgiving, consider how many friends such a person has, how his praises are sounded everywhere by people who go about saying, “This is a good man. He is easily reconciled; he does not know how to bear a grudge; no sooner is he struck than he is healed.” When such a person falls into some misfortune, who will not pity him? When he has done wrong, who will not pardon him? When he asks others for a favor, who will not grant it? Who will not want to be the friend and servant of so good a soul? Yes, I beg you, let us do all this for God’s sake — not toward our friends only, not toward our relatives only, but even toward our household servants. For he says, “Give up threatening, knowing that your Master also is in heaven” (Ephesians 6, verse 9).
If we forgive our neighbors their wrongs, ours will be forgiven us — and so it will be if we give alms, if we are humble. For humility, too, takes away sins. If the tax collector, only for saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 18, verse 13), went home counted righteous, how much more will we, if we are humble and crushed in heart, be able to obtain abundant love for humankind! If we confess our own sins and condemn ourselves, we will be cleansed of most of our defilement. For there are many ways that make us clean. So let us war against the devil in every way.
I have said nothing difficult, nothing burdensome. Forgive the one who has injured you, have pity on the needy, humble your soul, and even if you are a great sinner you will be able to obtain the kingdom, by these means purging away the sins themselves and wiping off their stain. And may God grant that we all, having cleansed ourselves here by confession from all the filth of our sins, may obtain there the blessings promised, in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and forever and ever. Amen.