Homily 2 — Philemon 1, verses 4 to 16

John Chrysostom: Homilies on the New Testament

Homilies on Philemon

Homily 2 — Philemon 1, verses 4 to 16

Philemon 1, verses 4 to 16

“I thank my God, always making mention of you in my prayers, hearing of your love and faith which you have toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints, so that the sharing of your faith may become effective through the acknowledgment of every good thing that is in us, in Christ Jesus.”

He does not ask the favor right at the start. First he admires the man and praises him for his good deeds, and gives no small proof of his love: that he always mentions him in his prayers. He says that many are refreshed by him, and that he is obedient and ready to comply in everything. Only then, last of all, does he put his request, and in this way especially he shames him into agreeing. For if others obtain what they ask, much more will Paul. If he deserved to obtain it when he came before others, much more when he comes after others, and asks for something that does not concern himself, but is on another’s behalf. Then, so that he may not seem to have written for this reason only, and so that no one may say, “If it were not for Onesimus, you would not have written,” see how he gives other reasons for his letter as well: first, to show his love, and then also to ask that a lodging be prepared for him.

“Hearing,” he says, “of your love.”

This is wonderful, and much greater than if he had seen it with his own eyes while he was there. For it is plain that his love was so abundant that it had become well known and had reached even Paul. And yet the distance between Rome and Phrygia was no small one. For Philemon seems to have lived there, judging from the mention of Archippus. The Colossians were of Phrygia, and writing to them Paul said, “When this letter has been read among you, see that it is read also in the church of the Laodiceans, and that you likewise read the letter from Laodicea” (Colossians 4, verse 16). And this is a city of Phrygia.

“I pray,” he says, “that the sharing of your faith may become effective in the knowledge of every good thing that is in Christ Jesus.” Do you see him giving first, before he receives, and bestowing a much greater favor of his own before he asks one himself? “That the sharing of your faith,” he says, “may become effective through the acknowledgment of every good thing that is in you in Christ Jesus”: that is, that you may reach every virtue, so that nothing may be lacking. For faith becomes effective in this way, when it is accompanied by works. For “faith without works is dead” (James 2, verse 26). And he has not said “your faith,” but “the sharing of your faith,” joining it with himself and showing that it is one body, and by this especially making him ashamed to refuse. He says, “If you are a partner in the faith, you ought to be a partner in the other things too.”

Verse 7: “For I had great joy and comfort in your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed by you, brother.” Nothing shames us into giving so much as bringing up the kindnesses done to others, especially when the one asking deserves more respect than they do. And he has not said, “If you do it for others, much more for me.” But he has hinted at the same thing, though he has managed to do it in another and more gracious way.

“I had joy”: that is, you have given me confidence by what you have done for others. “And comfort”: that is, we are not only pleased, but comforted too. For they are our own members. If, then, there ought to be such oneness among us that when any others in trouble are refreshed we are delighted on their account, even though we gain nothing, as though it were one body that was helped, much more if you refresh us too. And he has not said, “because you give way and comply,” but something much stronger and more emphatic: “because the hearts of the saints,” as though speaking of a darling child dearly loved by its parents. So this love and tender affection shows that he too is greatly loved by them.

Verse 8: “Therefore, though I might be very bold in Christ to command you to do what is fitting —”

Notice how careful he is, so that nothing he says, even out of overflowing love, should strike the hearer in a way that hurts him. That is why, before he says “to command you” — since that was offensive, though spoken out of love it was rather fitted to soothe him — still, out of an excess of tact, he as it were corrects it in advance by saying “having confidence.” By this he implies that Philemon was a great man; that is, “you have given us confidence.” And not only that: he adds the words “in Christ,” showing that it was not because he was more distinguished in the world, not because he was more powerful, but because of his faith in Christ. Only then does he add “to command you,” and not that alone, but “what is fitting,” that is, a reasonable thing. And see from how many things he draws proof for this. You do good to others, he says, and to me; and it is for Christ’s sake; and the thing is reasonable; and it is love that gives. That is why he also adds, Verse 9: “Yet for love’s sake I would rather appeal to you.”

It is as if he had said, “I know very well that I could bring it about by commanding with great authority, because of what has already taken place. But because I am very anxious about this matter, I appeal to you.” He shows both things at once: that he has confidence in him, for he commands him; and that he is deeply concerned about the matter, which is why he appeals to him.

“Being such a one,” he says, “as Paul the aged.” Remarkable! How many things are here to shame him into agreeing! Paul, by the standing of his person; by his age, because he was old; and by what weighed more than all, because he was also “a prisoner of Jesus Christ.”

For who would not welcome with open arms a fighter who had won his crown? Who, seeing him in chains for Christ’s sake, would not have granted him ten thousand favors? Having soothed his mind beforehand with so many considerations, he still does not bring in the name at once, but holds back so great a request. For you know how masters feel toward slaves who have run away, and especially when they have done it with theft as well — how their anger grows, even if they are good masters. So, having taken all these pains to soothe this anger, having first persuaded him to be ready to serve him in anything at all, and having prepared his soul for complete obedience, he then brings in his request and says, “I appeal to you,” and adds words of praise: “for my son, whom I have fathered in my chains.”

Again the chains are mentioned to shame him into agreeing, and then the name. For he has not only put out his anger, but has made him glad. He says, “I would not have called him my son if he were not especially useful. What I called Timothy, I call him too.” And showing his affection again and again, he presses him with the very time of the man’s new birth. “I have fathered him in my chains,” he says, so that for this reason too Onesimus deserved to receive much honor, because he was born in the very midst of Paul’s struggles, in his trials for the cause of Christ.

“Onesimus,”

Verse 11: “who formerly was useless to you.”

See how great his good sense is, how he admits the man’s faults and in that way puts out the anger. He says, “I know that he was useless.”

“But now” he will be “useful to you and to me.”

He has not said, “he will be useful to you,” so that Philemon would not contradict it; but he has brought in his own person, so that his hopes may seem worth believing: “But now,” he says, “useful to you and to me.” For if he was useful to Paul, who demanded such great strictness, much more would he be useful to his master.

Verse 12: “whom I have sent back to you.”

By this too he has quenched his anger, by handing him over. For masters are most enraged when someone pleads with them for a slave who is absent; so by this very act he softened him all the more.

Verse 12: “You, therefore, receive him, that is, my very heart.”

And again he has not given the bare name, but has used with it a word that could move him, one more affectionate than “son.” He has said “son”; he has said “I have fathered” him; so it was likely that he would love him greatly, because he fathered him in his trials. For it is plain that we burn with the most affection for those children who are born to us in dangers we have escaped, as when the Scripture says, “Woe, Barochabel!” and again when Rachel names Benjamin “the son of my sorrow” (Genesis 35, verse 18).

“You, therefore,” he says, “receive him, that is, my very heart.” He shows how great his affection is. He has not said, “Take him back”; he has not said, “Do not be angry”; but “receive him.” That is, he deserves not only pardon but honor. Why? Because he has become the son of Paul.

Verse 13: “whom I wished to keep with me, so that in your place he might have served me in my chains for the good news.”

Do you see after how much preparation he has at last brought him before his master in an honorable light? And notice with what wisdom he has done it. See what great worth he gives the slave, and how greatly he honors the master. He says, “You have found a way through him to repay the service you owe me.” Here he shows that he has thought of the master’s advantage more than of his slave’s, and that he holds him in very great respect.

Verse 14: “But without your consent,” he says, “I wanted to do nothing, so that your good deed might not be as it were by compulsion, but of your own free will.”

This especially pleases the person who is asked: when a thing that is good in itself is carried out with his agreement. For two good results come from it: the one gains, and the other is made more secure. And he has not said, “that it should not be by compulsion,” but “as it were by compulsion.” He says, “For I knew that even if you had not been told beforehand, but had found it out all at once, you would not have been angry. All the same, out of an excess of consideration, I wanted it not to be as it were by compulsion.”

Verses 15 and 16: “For perhaps this is why he was parted from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave.” He did well to say “perhaps,” so that the master may give way. For since the running away came from perverseness and a corrupt mind, and not from any such purpose, he has said “perhaps.” And he has not said, “this is why he ran away,” but, “this is why he was parted,” softening him all the more with a gentler-sounding word. And he has not said, “he parted himself,” but, “he was parted.” For it was not his own plan that he should leave for this purpose or for that. Joseph too says this when he makes excuses for his brothers: “For God sent me here” (Genesis 45, verse 5); that is, God used their wickedness for a good end. “That is why,” he says, “he was parted for a while.” In this way he shortens the time, admits the offense, and turns it all into God’s providence. “That you might receive him,” he says, “forever”: not for the present time only, but for the future as well, so that you might always have him — no longer a slave, but more honorable than a slave. For you will have a slave who stays with you and is more devoted than a brother, so that you have gained both in time and in the quality of your slave. For from now on he will not run away. “That you might receive him,” he says, “forever”: that is, have him back.

“No longer as a slave, but more than a slave, a beloved brother, especially to me.”

“You have lost a slave for a short time, but you will find a brother forever — not only your brother, but mine as well.” Here too there is great virtue. “But if he is my brother, you also will not be ashamed of him.” By calling him his son, he has shown his natural affection; and by calling him his brother, his great goodwill toward him, and that he puts him on an equal footing of honor.

Masters and Their Servants

These things were not written without purpose. They were written so that we masters may not despair of our servants, nor press too hard on them, but may learn to pardon the offenses of such servants, so that we may not always be harsh, and so that we may not be ashamed, because they are slaves, to make them partners with us in everything when they are good. For if Paul was not ashamed to call him “his son, his very heart, his brother, his beloved,” surely we ought not to be ashamed. And why do I say Paul? The Master of Paul is not ashamed to call our servants his own brothers; and are we ashamed? See how he honors us: he calls our servants his own brothers, friends, and fellow heirs. See how far down he has come! What, then, must we do to have done our whole duty? We will never fully do it. To whatever degree of humility we have come, the greater part of it is still left behind. For consider: whatever you do, you do to a fellow servant; but your Master has done it to your servants. Hear this and shudder! Never be puffed up over your humility!

Perhaps you laugh at the expression, as though humility could puff a person up. But do not be surprised at it: it does puff up, when it is not genuine. How, and in what way? When it is practiced to win the favor of people and not of God, so that we may be praised and think highly of ourselves. For this too is devilish. Just as many swell with empty glory over their not seeking empty glory, so many are puffed up over humbling themselves, because they are proud at heart. For example, a brother has come, or even a servant; you have welcomed him, you have washed his feet; at once you think highly of yourself. “I have done what no one else has done,” you say. “I have achieved humility.” How, then, can anyone stay humble? If he remembers the command of Christ, which says, “When you have done all things, say, ‘We are useless servants’” (Luke 17, verse 10). And again, the Teacher of the world, when he says, “I do not consider that I have laid hold of it” (Philippians 3, verse 13). The one who has persuaded himself that he has done nothing great, however much he may have done — he alone can be humble-minded, the one who thinks he has not reached perfection.

Many are puffed up over their humility; but let us not be like that. Have you done some act of humility? Do not be proud of it, or you lose all the reward of it. The Pharisee was like that: he was puffed up because he gave his tithes to the poor, and he lost all the reward of it (Luke 18, verse 12). But the tax collector was not like that. Hear Paul again saying, “I am not aware of anything against myself, yet that does not prove me in the right” (First Corinthians 4, verse 4). Do you see that he does not exalt himself, but by every means lowers and humbles himself, and that too when he had reached the very summit?

And the three young men were in the fire, in the middle of the furnace, and what did they say? “We have sinned and done wrong with our fathers” (the Song of the Three Young Men, verses 5 and 6, in the Greek Old Testament; Daniel 3, verses 29 and 30; 5, verse 16). This is what it is to have a crushed heart; that is why they could say, “Nevertheless, with a crushed heart and a humble spirit let us be accepted.” So even after they had fallen into the furnace they were deeply humbled, even more than they were before. For when they saw the miracle that was worked, thinking themselves unworthy of that deliverance, they were brought lower still in humility. For when we are convinced that we have received great benefits beyond what we deserve, then we are especially grieved.

And yet what benefit had they received beyond what they deserved? They had given themselves up to the furnace. They had been taken captive for the sins of others, for they were still young. And they did not grumble, nor were they indignant, nor did they say, “What good is it to us that we serve God, or what advantage do we have in worshiping him? This man is ungodly, and he has become our lord. We are punished along with the idol worshipers, by an idol-worshiping king. We have been led into captivity. We are robbed of our country, our freedom, everything our fathers left us. We have become prisoners and slaves; we are enslaved to a barbarian king.” None of these things did they say. But what? “We have sinned and done wrong.” And they offer prayers not for themselves but for others. For they say, “You have handed us over to a hateful and wicked king.”

Again, Daniel, when he was thrown into the pit a second time, said, “For God has remembered me.” Why should he not remember you, Daniel, when you glorified him before the king, saying, “Not because of any wisdom that I have” (Daniel 2, verse 30)? And when you were thrown into the den of lions because you did not obey that most wicked decree, why should he not remember you? Surely for that very reason he should. Were you not thrown into it on his account? “Yes, truly,” he says, “but I am a debtor for many things.” And if he said such things after showing so great a virtue, what should we say after this? But hear what David says: “If he says, ‘I have no delight in you,’ here I am; let him do to me what seems good to him” (Second Samuel 15, verse 26). And yet he had countless good deeds to speak of. And Eli also says, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him” (First Samuel 3, verse 18).

This is the mark of devoted servants: to submit to him wholly, not only in his mercies, but in his corrections and in his punishments. For how is it not absurd that we put up with masters beating their servants, knowing that they will spare them because they are their own, and yet suppose that God will not spare us when he punishes? Paul too has hinted at this, saying, “Whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s” (Romans 14, verse 8). A man, we say, does not want his property to be lessened; he knows how he punishes; he is punishing his own servants. But surely none of us spares as much as he does — he who brought us into being out of nothing, who makes the sun rise, who sends the rain, who breathed life into us, who gave his own Son for us.

But as I said before — and this is why I have said everything I have said — let us be humble-minded as we ought, let us think modestly of ourselves as we ought. Let this not become a reason for us to be puffed up. Are you humble, humbler than everyone? Do not be proud on that account, and do not reproach others, or you will lose your boast. For this is the very reason you are humble: that you may be set free from the madness of pride. So if through your humility you fall into that madness, it would be better for you not to be humble. For hear Paul saying, “Sin worked death in me through what is good, so that through the commandment sin might become exceedingly sinful” (Romans 7, verse 13).

When the thought enters your mind to admire yourself because you are humble, think of your Master, how far down he came, and you will no longer admire yourself or praise yourself, but will laugh at yourself as one who has done nothing. Count yourself wholly a debtor. Whatever you have done, remember that parable: “Which of you, having a servant … will say to him when he comes in, ‘Sit down to eat’? … I tell you, no … but ‘wait and serve me’” (from Luke 17, verses 7 and 8). Do we thank our servants for waiting on us? Not at all. Yet God is thankful to us, though we do not serve him, but do what is to our own advantage.

But let us not think of it as though he owed us thanks, so that he may owe us still more, but as people paying off a debt. For the matter truly is a debt, and all that we do is owed. For if, when we buy slaves with our money, we want them to live wholly for us, and whatever they have, to have it for us, how much more must it be so with him who brought us out of nothing into being, who after this bought us with his precious blood, who paid such a price for us as no one would bear to pay even for his own son, who shed his own blood for us? So if we had ten thousand lives and laid them all down for him, would we have made him an equal return? Not at all. And why?

Because he did this owing us nothing; the whole was a matter of grace. But we from now on are debtors. Being God himself, he became a servant; and not being subject to death, he subjected himself to death in the flesh. As for us, if we do not lay down our lives for him, by the law of nature we must certainly lay them down all the same, and a little later we will be parted from life, however unwilling we are. So also with riches: if we do not give them away for his sake, we will hand them over by necessity at our end. So it is also with humility: though we are not humble for his sake, we will be humbled by distresses, by calamities, by those who hold power over us. Do you see, then, how great the grace is? He has not said, “What great thing do the martyrs do? Even if they do not die for me, they will certainly die.” But he owns himself greatly indebted to them, because of their own free will they give up what in the course of nature they were about to give up shortly against their will. He has not said, “What great thing do they do who give away their riches? Even against their will they will have to give them up.” But he owns himself greatly indebted to them too, and is not ashamed to confess before everyone that he, the Master, is fed by his slaves.

For this too is the glory of a Master: to have grateful slaves. And this is the glory of a Master: to love his slaves so. And this is the glory of a Master: to claim as his own what is theirs. And this is the glory of a Master: not to be ashamed to confess them before everyone. So let us be struck with awe at this great love of Christ. Let us be set on fire by this love potion. Though a man be lowly and of no account, if we hear that he loves us, we are warmed with love toward him above all things and honor him greatly. And do we love, then? When our Master loves us so much, are we not stirred? Let us not, I beg you, let us not be so indifferent about the salvation of our souls. Let us love him as far as we are able, and spend everything on his love — our life, our riches, our glory, everything — with delight, with joy, with eagerness, not as giving anything to him, but to ourselves. For such is the law of those who love: they think they are receiving favors when they suffer wrong for the sake of the one they love. So let us feel this way toward our Lord, so that we too may share in the good things to come, in Christ Jesus our Lord.