Paul, prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timotheus the brother, to Philemon the beloved and our fellow-workman,
The letter opens with three names and no titles of rank: a prisoner, a brother, and a beloved fellow worker. Behind the greeting stands Onesimus, whose future rests on how Philemon reads it. So why does Paul, who could have commanded, introduce himself in chains?
Paul had every right to sign himself an apostle. Here he sets that title aside.
Paul does not introduce himself here as an apostle, but as "a prisoner of Jesus Christ." Here we may notice the wisdom and delicacy of the Spirit of God. When writing to Timothy and Titus, Paul was careful to bring forward his apostleship, for obvious reasons. Authority was as valuable there as leaving it out is precious here. Paul would rest the matter of Onesimus entirely on the ground of divine grace, which he was sure reigned in Philemon's heart. He was not alone in his appeal; he brought Timothy in with himself to give it more force.
The word "prisoner" does two things at once. Older translations read "a prisoner of Jesus Christ," and Paul does not name Rome as his captor.
"Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ." In this he showed Philemon two things. First, that he was a sufferer, and not someone who had kept his place in the world by his confession of Christ. Second, that his prison lost all its misery, because he could see that men were only the hand of the Lord. So he was content to be there, for he was the Lord's prisoner.
This way of seeing his chains is more than a fact about Paul. It shows where a settled heart comes from.
It is very blessed to notice the way the apostle looked beyond men to Christ. He was His prisoner. He did not fret under the tyranny and unrighteousness of the Roman authorities, but looked at the Lord. It was His will for him, and that was enough. Christ was his jailer, as it were. He who sent His angel and released Peter could have done the same for Paul had it suited Him. The heart never finds rest when it looks at second causes.
Philemon was not in prison and could not share that experience with Paul.
Philemon had no fellowship with Paul as a prisoner; but here comes the link — "our brother" connects him both with Paul and Timothy. And if the Lord of all is not ashamed to call us brothers, how it will delight the soul of His servant! The Lord put Himself on this standing, where He was one with every saint. It stood on far higher ground than any natural relationship, for they were only brothers to one another because each of them was the brother of Jesus.
Philemon was no stranger to this work. His home and his hands were already open.
Philemon was a man of means at Colosse, who with his wife Apphia was an heir of the grace of life. He was a worker for the Master as well; so to Paul and Timothy he was dearly beloved, and a recognised fellow-labourer. In his house a company of the saints met, and he refreshed the hearts of the saints. He had received, and he gave.
Calling him a "fellow worker" was no flattery.
Paul describes Philemon as the fellow-worker of himself and Timothy. Can we imagine such honour without a powerful effect on his soul? It came from a man who was as far as possible from careless speech. Flattering talk was as far from him as covetousness or self-seeking in any form. What a cheer for a man serving God in the middle of all kinds of trial and discouragement!
As a list of names, verse 1 looks like a formality. As a set of ties, it is Paul's case.
The greeting or address, short as it is, contains the substance of the letter... Now the mention of all these names expresses fellowship. These people had no natural fellowship with one another, nothing in common with one another. They were strangers in country, in habit, in language. By union with Christ they now had common relationship, common affections, common service, common warfare. Here is the wonderful power of the cross: it not only brings the soul into peace with God... it also brings men of the most opposite character, and the most different condition in this life, into oneness.
- Chains, not rank. Paul opens as a prisoner, not an apostle. He rests the whole appeal on grace, not on his apostleship.
- Christ, not Rome. He calls himself the prisoner of Jesus Christ. He saw men as only the hand of the Lord. The heart finds no rest while it looks at second causes.
- Brother, the link. Philemon could not share Paul's prison. But "our brother" joins all three, on ground higher than any natural tie, because each is the brother of Jesus.
- Beloved, then asked. Paul honours Philemon as a fellow worker before he asks for anything. It was a cheer, not flattery, from a man who never flattered.
- Names that make the case. The short greeting holds the substance of the letter. The cross makes one people out of strangers in country, habit and language. That is the ground Paul stands on for the matter of Onesimus.
and to the sister Apphia and to Archippus our fellow-soldier, and to the assembly which [is] in thine house.
Paul's short letter is a personal appeal about a runaway slave. Yet the greeting also names Philemon's wife, a fellow worker, and the believers who met in his house — so why bring them into a private matter?
The names belong to one home in Colossae, and Paul picks each one for a reason. One writer explains why he names the wife in a matter about a servant:
Paul addresses his wife as well — "our beloved Apphia," or perhaps "the sister Apphia." This was gracious and wise. Such a matter concerned the mistress as much as the master. Perhaps her feelings about it were stronger than her husband's. Paul would have both act together in this, as heirs together of the grace of life.
The two ways of naming her come from differences in the manuscripts, and the oldest copies give the wording the ESV carries:
Philemon is addressed as "the beloved" according to his known character (v. 1), and honoured as a fellow-labourer in the Lord's work. And, most unusual of all, he includes his wife in the address. The Authorised Version and the later copies read "the beloved," but the ancient and best manuscripts read "the sister." It was most fitting in the circumstances to address her, and the way it is done is just as becoming.
Who was this third person, and why does Paul call him a soldier?
Then Paul adds one more name, after those who stood at the head of the house: "and to Archippus our fellow-soldier." This is the same man that Col. 4:17 tells to take heed to the ministry he had received in the Lord, and to fulfil it. There is no ground for thinking he was Philemon's son, or his "chaplain" either. But Scripture makes clear that he worked in the assembly there as elsewhere. One cannot escape the conviction that courage and endurance in spiritual warfare led the apostle to call Archippus a "fellow-soldier," as he did Epaphroditus. He uses terms like this with the utmost precision.
The word ties Paul and Archippus together:
They were fellow-servants and comrades-in-arms, having the same Master to obey and the same Captain to follow. Their hearts and hands were united.
The phrase is not another way of saying "your Christian family."
This does not mean only the Christian members of the household. It means those who met there regularly, gathered to the Lord's name. That seems to be the force of the phrase wherever it occurs (Rom. 16:5; 1 Cor. 16:19; Col. 4:15). There were many Christian households. But "the assembly in a house" implied a meeting held in that house, as here in Philemon's.
Still, this meeting was not the only one in the city:
It was "the church at Philemon's house." It could not be the church in Colossae, or it would have been called that. One or more other gatherings existed there.
Onesimus was coming back to a master and to a whole gathering:
The apostle, in sending Onesimus back, addresses the whole assembly. This is why we have "grace and peace" here, without adding "mercy," as the apostles do when they address individuals only. His appeal on behalf of Onesimus is to Philemon; but the whole assembly is to take an interest in this beloved slave, who had become a child of God. Their Christian hearts would be a support and a guarantee for Philemon's conduct.
The verse also names no building at all.
Notice that no special building and no special place is mentioned. It is no longer a particular spot down here, but the place where Christ is in the midst. It is a PERSON, not a place, to whom we are gathered now. We never read in the Epistles of "sacred buildings," more holy than others. We read of "the church in your house" (Philemon 2).
- House. Philemon opened his home, and believers of the area met in it. Christians gather to a Person in the midst, not to a sacred building.
- Wife. The oldest manuscripts call Apphia "our sister." Paul writes to her because the case of the servant concerned the mistress as much as the master.
- Soldier. Paul calls Archippus a fellow soldier. The title points to courage and endurance in spiritual warfare under the same Captain.
- Assembly. "The church in your house" means the people who met there, not only the Christians living under that roof.
- Guarantee. Paul greets them all, so a private act of forgiveness becomes a shared one. Their hearts are a support and a guarantee for how Philemon will act.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and [the] Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul is about to ask a slave-owner to take back Onesimus, the servant he is sending home. Before he asks for anything, he wishes grace and peace on the whole household, and that greeting sets the tone for everything that follows.
The wording here is not scaled down for a private note. It is the greeting Paul sends to church after church.
So the apostle greeted the saints in Rome, in Ephesus, and in Philippi. He greeted the church in Corinth and the churches in Galatia the same way. He wrote more briefly to those in Colossae, still more briefly in his First to the Thessalonians, and quite fully in his Second. To Timothy, if not Titus, he adds "mercy" as needed by the individual. And how blessed it is, whatever the form! What an unfailing spring, and how worthy the effect! What better, what so good, could the Father bestow on His children, or the Lord on His servants?
The letter is about one master and one servant. Yet the greeting reaches everyone who met in Philemon's home.
We can see that Philemon received the assembly in his house. Although the apostle writes on a personal matter, he includes the church in his greeting. We learn from it that even the personal interests of God's people are necessarily tied to the assembly. We are so closely bound up with one another that we cannot cut ourselves off from the general state and welfare.
Writing to individuals like Timothy and Titus, Paul adds a third word: mercy. Here he leaves it out, and the reason lies in who else he greets.
The apostle, in sending Onesimus back, addresses the whole assembly. That is why we have here "grace and peace," without adding "mercy," as the apostles do when they write to individuals only. His appeal for Onesimus is to Philemon. But the whole assembly is to take an interest in this beloved slave, who had become a child of God. Their Christian hearts would be a support and a guarantee for the conduct of Philemon.
Both words reach back into the Old Testament before Paul uses them here.
Paul again uses that grand Christian word, grace (charis). The root of the word means to cause joy. In the Greek Old Testament this same word translates a Hebrew word. That Hebrew word means the favour and blessedness received from someone greater than yourself. The word "peace" clearly matches "Shalom" in the Old Testament. This peace is the healthy condition of soul enjoyed by those who experience God's grace. The source of these blessings is God. The believer enjoys them as he has fellowship with the Father and the Son.
Paul names the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ together as the one source of grace and peace.
Such is the opening wish or prayer of the apostle here, as in Romans 1:7. It comes from God in His relation of Father to us, and from Jesus Christ as Lord. Naming them together would be impossible in an inspired writing, and unworthy anywhere, if they were not one in the unity of the divine nature. True and sovereign favour was the spring, grace the result that would prove and magnify its source... Let it be ours, while enjoying the gift, to adore the Giver.
Paul had official authority and could have used it. Instead he calls himself a prisoner and puts himself alongside those he writes to.
Every word and the whole scope alike express grace, not official authority. It is as Christ's prisoner that Paul introduces himself, as later on he makes his appeal... And, most unusually, he includes his wife in the address... Next is Archippus, called "fellow-soldier" as one who shared the conflicts of the truth. Last comes the church at Philemon's, which the apostle includes in the address, filling out the fellowship his heart desired with the usual benediction.
- Source. Grace and peace come from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, named together. Paul could not pair them like this unless they were one in the divine nature.
- Gift. Grace is favour from One far greater than yourself. Peace is the healthy state of soul that grace produces.
- Reach. The letter deals with one master and one servant. The greeting still takes in the wife, the fellow-soldier, and the church meeting in the house.
- Company. Paul leaves out "mercy" because he greets a whole assembly, not one person alone. Their Christian hearts support how Philemon will act.
- Result. The grace at the top of the letter is the grace Philemon must show at the end of it. Paul appeals; he does not pull rank.
I thank my God, always making mention of thee at my prayers,
Paul writes to Philemon with a hard thing to ask: take back Onesimus, the man who had wronged him. Before he asks, he gives thanks to God and speaks of his own praying.
Paul says "my God" and "my prayers" (an older translation reads "at my prayers"). One writer shows what that small word reveals about how he prayed:
Paul's use of the word "my" tells us something about the relationship he enjoyed with God. The way he uses this word elsewhere in his letters shows that Paul knew his God personally. For him prayer was not reading set words from a book, or learning a few well-chosen lines by heart. Prayer was the vital experience of fellowship with his God and Saviour. The phrase "at my prayers" points to a settled, definite, daily habit. These were not occasional requests, said only when something went wrong.
Paul had something to ask, yet he thanks first. Writers point out that this order runs through his letters and is worth copying:
As in other cases, thanksgiving to God comes before Paul's prayers for Philemon. It is healthy for us to always remember this order.
One writer notes what those thanks do for the rest of the letter:
From verse 4 he lays the ground for his appeal with thanksgiving.
Paul does not pray for Christians in general. He names this one man, and that leaves a question for us:
In verse 4 he thanks God for Philemon and mentions him in his prayers. What an example the apostle is to all of us! How often do we pray for people by name — those we know who need God's help? Or do we lean on one general prayer that covers everyone?
Paul thanks God, not Philemon, for the good he sees in his friend. And the love he thanks God for is the very thing Philemon will soon have to show:
After his usual greeting of grace and peace, the apostle's heart overflows with thanksgiving to God. He thankfully recognises all the good in his dear brother… We can see this gracious way all through Paul's letters. Where there was much to blame, if he could see anything of Christ, he owned it with joy and gave thanks. That is an important lesson for our souls to learn from God today. So much grieves the spirit and draws out our protests and rebukes that we easily overlook how much fruit of the Spirit is really there. Philemon's love for all the saints was about to face a hard test. Onesimus was now a saint; would he love him? It is not easy to love those who have really wronged us, yet Christ asks for nothing less.
Others note that what moved Paul was not a bright beginning but a walk that kept going:
The news that Philemon kept on in love and faith caused deep thanksgiving to God. How it encouraged the apostle when believers kept going in the things of God! We often see a bright start, then an unsteady walk, and then it stops altogether. Paul owns with thanksgiving what God had done in Philemon's life, but he also prays that Philemon's faith might show itself in practical power.
The order matters here. Paul took this to God before he wrote a word of it to Philemon:
The love and faith of one believer drew out thanksgiving from the apostle to God. Often his soul had other exercises — deep humbling before God because of the way some walked. But here was something that glorified God. The apostle longed to see that love and that faith grow. Yet he had spread this desire before God before he mentioned it to Philemon. And he mentions it in a way that brings Philemon's soul straight before God.
- My God. The word "my" marks real fellowship, not recited words. Prayer was Paul's daily habit, not an emergency measure.
- My prayers. Paul names Philemon rather than praying one general prayer for everyone. Do we pray for people by name?
- Thanks first. Paul gives thanks before he asks. That order is worth keeping, and here it lays the ground for his whole appeal.
- Credit to God. Paul thanks God for the good in another believer. He owns any trace of Christ, even where much grieves him.
- God before man. Paul spread his desire before God before he mentioned it to Philemon. Then he wrote in a way that brought Philemon straight before God too.
hearing of thy love and the faith which thou hast towards the Lord Jesus, and towards all the saints,
Paul opens his letter to Philemon with a report, not an appeal: news has reached him in prison about the kind of man Philemon is. Before he mentions Onesimus, the runaway slave, he thanks God for Philemon's love and faith — and their order and direction shape the whole letter.
Paul first names what God has already done in the man he is about to ask a hard favour of. One writer sees a habit here, and a lesson:
He gratefully recognises all the good in his dear brother... We may always notice this gracious way in Paul's letters. Where there was much to blame, if he could see anything of Christ, he was glad to own it and gave thanks. That is an important lesson for our souls to learn in the school of God today. So much grieves the spirit and draws out our protests and rebukes. As a result, we are apt to overlook the measure of the Spirit's fruit that is really there.
Elsewhere Paul names faith before love. Here he turns the order around:
In verse 5 love came before faith, which is an unusual order (compare Ephesians 1 and Colossians 1).
One writer suggests a fellow worker brought the news, and links the order of the words to Paul's aim:
It may have been Epaphras who told Paul about Philemon's love and faith toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints (compare Colossians 1:7-8). But such news refreshed Paul's heart. Perhaps love is mentioned first because it was this that Paul was really appealing to in this letter.
Older English translations use "towards" twice here. The Greek does not repeat the same word, and the difference matters:
A change of preposition happens. The first is "pros", towards, indicating an object. The second is "eis", unto. The use of the two words emphasises the difference in relationship. Philemon's response to Christ reaches out through Him to his fellow believers. It was not an ordinary love, but it had its origin in faith in Christ.
Faith and love are not two separate achievements here. One works inside the other:
It was faith that worked in this love and gave it its Christian reality. So faith found its special objects in the saints.
Even at a distance Philemon's love kept showing itself, and his name matched it:
Paul had probably not seen Philemon for a long time, but he kept hearing of his love and of his faith. Divine love is active, and here we see it at work in Philemon. He had a love for the saints as well as a love for sinners. His name means "friendly" or "attached", and one translator gives its meaning as "one who kisses". Philemon lived up to his name. He showed that he was living in the truth of 1 John 3:14: "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers."
The word translated "saints" is not a title for a special few. It describes every believer:
In the New Testament the word used is hagios, which means "holy one." A saint is one set apart for God... So saints are a distinct, recognised class of people belonging to God — His saints... All Christians are included in this class, so that the apostle could speak of "all saints."
Philemon's love had found that company as its home:
Grace had opened his heart, and he found a circle to which it could go out — the saints of God.
Paul's praise is also a test. Onesimus must fit inside the word "all":
Philemon was about to be tested — would his love stand true toward all the saints?
The test is real: the newest member of that circle is the man who wronged him:
Onesimus was now a saint; would he love him? It is not easy to love those who have done us real harm, yet nothing less is according to Christ. This loving recognition of grace in Philemon is the basis of this letter.
- Report — News about Philemon reached Paul in prison. He turned it into thanks to God before he turned it into an appeal.
- Root — Faith toward the Lord Jesus makes this love real and Christian. Without it, the affection would be ordinary kindness.
- Reach — The Greek uses two different words here. Love goes to Christ, then travels on through Him to His people.
- Range — "Saints" means every believer set apart for God. That is why Paul can say "all". A love that picks favourites has not reached that word.
- Test — Onesimus is now inside the circle of "all the saints". Paul's praise in verse 5 becomes the ground of his appeal.
in such sort that thy participation in the faith should become operative in the acknowledgment of every good thing which is in us towards Christ [Jesus].
Paul's letter to Philemon asks a slave-owner to take back a runaway slave, Onesimus, as a brother. Before he asks, he prays verse 6 for him: that Philemon's share in the faith would go to work in him, showing him the good Christ has put in fellow believers.
The desire in this verse reached God before it ever reached Philemon's ears.
The apostle deeply desired to see that love and that faith grow. But he had spread this desire before God before he mentioned it to Philemon. And he mentions it in a way that brings the soul of Philemon at once before God.
Commentators read "the sharing of your faith" as Philemon's share in the faith all Christians hold.
Philemon's love and faith were of such a character that his participation in the faith might become operative in a full and precious way. His participation means his having part in the blessed faith of Christianity. It becomes operative by the acknowledging of every good thing that is in us in Christ Jesus. "In us" no doubt refers to Christians as such, because they are in Christ Jesus.
One writer describes the prayer as asking for an answering movement in Philemon's heart:
Paul prayed that his friend Philemon might find a response worked in his heart with power. That response would match, and be in unison with, the grace working in Paul on his behalf. Both had obtained the same precious faith. The chord struck by the Spirit in the heart of Paul must sound again in the heart of his friend and fellow believer.
Older English versions read "in you." The best manuscripts read "in us," and that one word changes the sense.
He puts forward Philemon's love, but in no way leaves out his faith, so that his sharing in the faith might work every good. It is "not in you," which though true is commonplace and feeble, but "in us" according to the best authorities. That is, in other Christians from Paul to Onesimus as regards Christ.
That reading widens the verse. The good to acknowledge is not Philemon's own record. It is what Christ has produced in other believers — including the runaway slave about to walk back through his door.
The ESV says "full knowledge" of every good thing; the translation these writers use says "acknowledgment." To acknowledge good in another believer means owning the new life God has given, instead of stopping at what is wrong in people.
How harmful it is when saints never rise above the sense of our natural evil! They dwell only on the heart that is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. Is there no reality in the new creation? No power in the ever-indwelling Holy Spirit that makes good Christ in us?
This takes discernment. Not everything attractive in a person comes from Christ.
"Every good thing … in Christ Jesus," whether in the apostle or in Philemon, brings before us the fruits of Christ's grace shown in His own. The Lord said in Matthew 7:20, "you will recognize them by their fruits." How good it is when we can recognise and acknowledge what we see of Christ in those who are His! It may be hard for a simple Christian to tell natural kindness apart from the fruit of Christ's grace. But one who is living near the Lord will know the difference.
The test was a real man Philemon had every reason to refuse.
It must be faith working by love, which alone could cause Philemon to receive Onesimus warmly as a brother. And where would faith put Philemon? Surely before God as a lost and ruined sinner, saved only by His sovereign grace. And if he put Onesimus beside him there, where was the difference? He could only see one equally ruined in himself, and saved by the same grace.
Commentators differ over whose good is in view. One writer takes the "good thing" as Paul's own motive in writing:
As we understand it, the apostle prayed that Philemon might see this: the glory of Christ Jesus moved Paul to write to him on this subject. Christ, in other words, was both his motive and his object — this was the "good thing" in him which he hoped Philemon would acknowledge.
- Prayed — Paul brought this desire to God before he brought it to Philemon, so the appeal comes as prayer, not pressure.
- Shared — the verse speaks of Philemon's part in the faith all Christians hold, not of skill in explaining it.
- Effective — that share is meant to work with power, striking an answering chord in the heart.
- Acknowledged — that power shows in recognising every good thing Christ has produced in fellow believers, not in stopping at their evil.
- Proved — Onesimus was the test. Faith working by love puts master and slave side by side, sinners saved by the same grace.
For we have great thankfulness and encouragement through thy love, because the bowels of the saints are refreshed by thee, brother.
Before asking Philemon for anything, Paul names what Philemon's love has already done: it has given rest to the saints and joy to Paul himself. This is the hinge of the whole letter — the ground on which he will soon ask something hard about a runaway slave.
The ESV speaks of "the hearts of the saints." Older translations use the stronger word "bowels," and one commentator objected sharply when translators softened it:
The Revisers seem to have given in to bad taste in dropping, here and elsewhere, the strong scriptural word "bowels" for the weaker "hearts," which has its own expression.
What was refreshed was the deepest part of a person, and it was refreshed by what the saints had seen in Philemon:
It was the refreshment "of the bowels of the saints" — their deepest affections went out to Philemon as they saw the faith, love, and grace in him.
Philemon's home was the place where this happened. A visitor found something better than a cup of cold water there.
Philemon was a brotherly man, not standing on his own self-importance or pompous dignity. He was a brother in the real sense of the word. When a man came into his home, Philemon treated him as a brother, and he received the refreshment that was in this home.
Verse 5 spoke of Philemon's love and faith; verse 7 shows that love at work. What reached Paul in prison was not sentiment but something the Spirit had produced.
Paul and Timothy are in prison, but joy and comfort are theirs, because Philemon has shown them brotherly love... The display of love was practical, and it was refreshing. It was not mere benevolence, but a display of the Spirit's fruit.
The word Paul chooses here comes back at the close of the letter. What he wants from Philemon is love, not a favour granted from above.
As he began so touchingly with "brother" in verse 7, so he repeats it again in verse 20. It was not in vain for Philemon. Paul sought earnest love, not condescension. The gain he yearned after was Philemon's even more than his own, without telling him so.
Paul's habit was to name every trace of Christ he could see in a person before dealing with anything difficult — and here that recognition carries a weight Philemon would soon feel.
We may always notice this gracious way in Paul's letters. Where there was much to blame, if anything of Christ could be seen, he gladly owned it and gave thanks... This loving recognition of grace in Philemon is the basis of this Epistle. Paul proceeds on the ground of it, and appeals to his fellow-labourer's heart... Philemon's love for all the saints was about to face a hard test. Onesimus was now a saint; would he love him? It is not easy to love those who have done us a positive injury, yet nothing less is according to Christ.
Paul expects that same kindness to swallow up any grudge:
But Paul appeals to Philemon wisely and kindly. He builds on the grace he knew had already worked deeply in this dear brother, seen in the way he refreshed the hearts of the saints. The apostle's great thankfulness and encouragement at this would surely dissolve any resentment Philemon might have felt towards Onesimus.
We know nothing of Philemon's preaching. This one thing is what Paul remembered, and it shames the way we often treat each other:
Of his preaching, teaching, or work we know nothing; but Paul, in his beautiful letter to him, said, "the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, brother." How sweet is this! How ashamed we are before it! We can criticise our brothers and sisters. We can find fault. We can show that things are not as they should be — while our own souls stay as dry as Gideon's fleece left on a wet threshing floor.
- Refreshed — Philemon reached the deepest affections of God's people. What stirred them was the faith, love and grace they saw in him.
- Home — The refreshment had an address. People arrived at Philemon's house and left better than they came, because he treated everyone as a brother.
- Brother — Paul asks as a brother, not from above. The same word opens verse 7 and returns in verse 20, where he asks Philemon to refresh him.
- Ground — Paul names the good in Philemon first. The grace already shown becomes the ground for the grace he now asks toward Onesimus.
- Test — Loving the saints in general is one thing. Loving the person who wronged you is the real test, and nothing less is according to Christ.
Wherefore having much boldness in Christ to enjoin thee what is fitting,
Paul is writing to a slave-owner about a runaway slave. Here he comes to his appeal, and first he pauses to say what he could have done instead.
The verse opens by looking back. The greeting and thanksgiving of verses 1–7 were not warm-up material but the foundation of the plea.
The first word "wherefore" links this section of the letter with the previous seven verses. They were not preliminary small talk before getting down to business. The plea Paul would make was based on what had gone before in the letter. Both Paul and Philemon enjoyed the vital link "in Christ." Paul now moves carefully toward the main point of his letter. His method could well be imitated. We need to be careful in approaching one another.
The word translated "enjoin" is a real command, and Paul had the standing to give one. He names that standing only to move past it.
It was in this spirit the apostle wrote, "Accordingly, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do what is required, yet for love's sake I rather entreat." To command what is right is not wrong in someone with the proper authority. But grace respects law in its own sphere, while acting far above law in a sphere of its own. In that sphere Christ is the centre and the fullness — the object, the pattern, and the motive. So the apostle puts love forward, whatever the rights of his position, and this even "in Christ." He only begs a man who, like himself, knew his incalculable debt to the love of God in Christ our Lord.
What stands out in the choice is the absence of self-importance in a man who could have pulled rank.
The first thing that strikes us in Paul is his unwillingness to use the authority that was rightly his. He had the liberty in Christ to command. But he preferred to appeal in grace to the one who had suffered wrong. This is very beautiful. Paul shows none of the presumption of "Man, proud man, dressed in a little brief authority." He is truly humble and unpretentious.
The confidence Paul describes is not personal nerve. It rests on whose interests he is representing.
In verse 8 Paul writes of being "bold in Christ" to enjoin what was fitting in relation to Onesimus. Onesimus was Philemon's slave, and he had run away from his master. But the apostle led him to Christ in Rome. What Paul was about to ask for, he asked with Christian boldness. He was asking for Christ's sake, not for any personal favour for himself. How good it is when we ask for Christ's sake! We may ask the Father, the source of all, or any of His own whom He has enriched.
An order would have produced the outward result. Commentators note that this was exactly the problem.
He would not stand on the position the Lord had given him in the church... Suppose he had sent back Onesimus with an apostolic order. No doubt it would have been obeyed, and the runaway pardoned and reinstated. But would this have satisfied his heart? Where then is the precious display of the grace of Christ? That grace rises above everything, even the deepest evil. It not only forgives but welcomes the wrongdoer to its heart for ever... He would not command, but begged; he names his authority, only to set it aside in a case like this.
Paul keeps his apostleship but stands with Philemon on shared ground instead. That leaves the door open for something a command could never produce.
Paul therefore could not give up his apostleship. But he was free to act in grace, and to take his stand on what he had in common with Philemon and the whole church — brotherhood in Christ Jesus. And here, instead of an authoritative command, he could "beg."... It is important to notice how our gracious Lord keeps giving us chances to show grace. He rarely speaks to us in the tone of authoritative command, saying, "Go," "Do this." Instead it is, "here is My mind" — go and carry it out as far as you can.
Kelly puts the principle plainly:
You can never demand or claim grace. In writing the letter to Philemon, the apostle brings motives of grace to bear on the case. He does not dictate what Philemon was to do. He reminds him of his heavenly relationship, and leaves it to Philemon's grace.
The way Paul opens the subject is itself instruction.
Notice too the tactful and delicate way in which he introduces the subject of Onesimus, in verses 8 to 10; begging where he might have used apostolic authority and commanded; presenting Onesimus as his spiritual son, given to him during the time of his trial in his captivity — a consideration well calculated to move the heart of Philemon.
- Accordingly — the appeal grows out of verses 1–7. Paul builds on what he and Philemon already share "in Christ."
- Right — Paul really could command. Commanding what is right is not wrong for someone with proper authority.
- Rather — he names that authority only to set it aside. An order would have won the act but missed the display of Christ's grace.
- Grace — you can never demand or claim grace. Paul brings motives to bear and leaves the decision to Philemon.
- Pattern — the Lord deals with us the same way, showing His mind instead of giving orders. Paul's care with people is worth copying.
for love's sake I rather exhort, being such a one as Paul the aged, and now also prisoner of Jesus Christ.
Paul had every right to order Philemon about the runaway slave Onesimus. In this verse he refuses to use it. He leans instead on two things with no legal weight: love, and the picture of an old man writing from prison.
The previous verse says that Paul could have commanded. An order would have got the right outcome and lost something greater.
Suppose he had sent back Onesimus with an apostolic order. No doubt it would have been obeyed, and the runaway pardoned and reinstated. But would this have satisfied his heart? Where then would be the precious display of the grace of Christ? That grace rises above everything, even the deepest evil. It does not only forgive the wrongdoer; it welcomes him to its heart for ever. ... He would not command, but pleaded; he names his authority, only to set it aside in a case like this.
Paul is asking for something an order cannot produce.
You can never demand or claim grace. In writing the letter to Philemon, the apostle brings motives of grace to bear on the case. He does not dictate what Philemon was to do. He reminds him of his heavenly relationship, and leaves it to Philemon's grace. The law could justly have put the runaway slave to death, for Roman masters, and indeed any others, had the right to punish slaves that way. Yet Paul would have Philemon receive him back no longer as a slave, but as a brother.
Paul's apostleship does not disappear. He chooses not to stand on it, and stands somewhere else.
Paul therefore could not waive his apostleship. But he was free to act in grace, and to take his stand on what he had in common with Philemon and the whole church — brotherhood in Christ Jesus. And here, instead of an authoritative command, he could "beseech."
He drops the title that could compel and picks up one that can only move. Where the ESV has "an old man," older translations read "Paul the aged."
So he says, "For love's sake I beseech you, being such a one as Paul" — not merely "the prisoner." He had already pleaded that as his actual situation, and would soon repeat it with emphasis. Now he takes another ground: Paul — "the aged." Would Paul, "the prisoner" and "the aged," have a weak and ineffective claim on the heart of Philemon? ... And indeed he proves how well he knew the distinctive value of his apostleship — he had not forgotten it. He proves it by keeping it hidden wherever asserting it might have spoiled the free exercise of grace.
The second description does double duty. It shows what following Christ had cost him, and it shows how he read his own chains.
In this he showed Philemon two things. First, that he was a sufferer, and not someone who had kept his place in the world by his confession of Christ. Second, that all the misery of his prison was gone, because he could see that men were only the hand of the Lord. So he was content to be there, for he was the Lord's prisoner.
A long life had taught him something. It is the very thing he now asks Philemon to show.
And what had Paul the aged been learning through his long course? The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. His claim on Philemon is not the authority he might have used. It is his own experience of the blessedness of the ways of grace, and his present suffering for preaching the gospel of that grace to Philemon and other Gentiles.
Paul did not invent this way of handling a real right.
Here the apostle appeals to one of the special and mightiest features of the gospel: the assertion of a title that is true, just, and beyond dispute — a title he still gives up, to leave free and full scope for grace in the one he is appealing to. So Christ lived, moved, and had His being here below.
The appeal leaves Philemon a real choice.
Paul would then consider the mind of Philemon, his thoughts and exercises. He would leave to him the full responsibility of acting rightly towards Onesimus. This is the true grace of God. Philemon would not be forced, but left free to act as before God.
- Right held — Paul could have commanded. He names the right so we can watch him lay it down.
- Right dropped — grace cannot be demanded or claimed. An order would have won the outcome and killed the thing itself.
- Ground changed — he trades his apostolic title for what he shares with Philemon: brotherhood in Christ. Age and chains move the heart; they do not bind the will.
- Grace learned — his claim rests on what a long life and a prison taught him about grace. He was the Lord's prisoner, not a victim of men.
- Christ copied — Christ lived by asserting a just title and then setting it aside. That way of living leaves Philemon free to act before God.
I exhort thee for *my* child, whom I have begotten in [my] bonds, Onesimus,
Paul writes from prison for a runaway slave who had wronged his owner. He does not open with the man's crime. He opens with a family word: this man is his child, and Philemon must now decide what to do with him.
Onesimus had done real damage before he disappeared, and no one in the ancient world would have expected mercy for him.
He had deserted his excellent master, and had probably cheated him as well (verse 18). Even the worst master would have punished such an act with the greatest severity. We may be sure Onesimus had no good reason for leaving Philemon. He proved himself a worthless man who could not value goodness. But what is too hard for the Lord? He led him into Paul's path, converted him, and turned his heart and his steps back to his master.
Older translations read "whom I have begotten in my bonds." That is birth language. It describes what happens to a person who believes the gospel.
Paul wrote to the Corinthians, "I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel" (1 Cor. 4:15). Of Onesimus he says, "whose father I became in my imprisonment" (Philemon 10). This means he had been the means of their conversion, for the Christian is born of God (1 John 5:18; 1 Peter 1:3).
So Paul can speak as if the new birth were his own work. The credit belongs elsewhere.
In one place Scripture says that God "bore witness to the word of His grace." In another, an apostle speaks by the same Spirit of a man whose father he had become while in chains, as if he himself had brought about the man's conversion. This shows how gracious God is. He owns the part we play, and He makes much of our little service and faithfulness. Yet we can truly add, "Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Your name give glory."
Paul also says where this birth happened. That detail is aimed straight at Philemon's affections.
So he writes, "I, Paul, an old man and now a prisoner also for Christ Jesus, appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became" — and not only that, but "in my imprisonment." That would make Onesimus a special object of interest and affection to a man who honoured and delighted in the apostle. If Philemon loved Paul, he would love Paul's child; and Onesimus was his child. Paul calls him his child as emphatically as he ever called Titus or Timothy. But he was a son born as neither Timothy nor Titus was — born while Paul was in chains.
Paul had the right to command. He chose to plead instead, and God Himself deals with people that way.
What has God done! We may well say this when we see the Lord God Almighty, the High and Holy One, presenting Himself to us in such a way that He pleads with us. "We are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us." … This is the grace Paul would bear witness to. He could have commanded, and yet for love's sake he chose to plead. He pleaded for his son Onesimus, whose father he had become while in chains. Had Philemon listened to the ministry of reconciliation, and received the Son of God into his soul? Then let him, as one reconciled to God Himself, exercise that same grace towards Onesimus.
The slave is coming home. But he is no longer just property, and Paul expects Philemon to feel the difference.
The return of his runaway slave was likely to stir up something in Philemon's natural heart. So the apostle steps in with his letter on behalf of his dear child in the faith, born during his captivity. God had already stepped in with the work of His grace. That grace ought to act on Philemon's heart, producing altogether new relationships with Onesimus. The apostle begs him to receive his former slave as a brother.
The feelings in this appeal are Paul's own. They also show something beyond him.
This is not only a beautiful picture of spiritual affections — of the unbreakable ties between Christians, and especially between a servant of God and the converts given to his ministry. It is also a striking picture of the heart of Christ for His own. Yes, these are Paul's feelings, Paul's tender love, Paul's pleading; but in all of them he was only the vessel of Christ.
- Fled — Onesimus ran from his master and probably robbed him first. No one expected mercy for such a man. But nothing was too hard for the Lord, who steered him into Paul's path.
- Fathered — "Whose father I became" is birth language. Paul was the means of the conversion. God gives the new birth, and He still credits His servant with the work.
- Fettered — Paul names where that birth happened: his chains. A son born in Paul's prison had a claim on anyone who loved Paul.
- Favour — Paul could have commanded. He chose to plead, as God pleads with people through His messengers. A man who has received such grace should now pass it on.
- Family — Grace made new relationships. The runaway comes back not as property but as a brother. The tenderness of the appeal is the heart of Christ working through His servant.
once unserviceable to thee, but now serviceable to thee and to me
Paul has just called Onesimus his own child in the faith. Now he admits the man's past failure, and turns his very name into the reason for taking him back. (The commentators below use older translations, which read "unprofitable" and "profitable" where the ESV reads "useless" and "useful.")
Onesimus was a slave's name, and it carried a meaning his life had contradicted. Paul builds the whole appeal on that gap, and returns to it later in the letter:
Twice in this letter Paul uses a play on words about the name Onesimus, which means "profitable." But Onesimus had not honoured his name. He fled from his master Philemon and perhaps even stole something. Onesimus had gone through a radical change. The apostle points to this in verse 11, with the words "unprofitable" and "profitable" (Greek: achrestos – euchrestos). In verse 20 he speaks to Philemon directly when he says "I would have profit of you."
One writer notes why such names existed at all — and why this one had become a lie:
Onesimus is a slave's name meaning "useful." Some slaves were just numbered 2, 3, 4. But others had descriptions to help sell them in the market. In time past Onesimus could not be true to his name. He was useless; a waster. "But now" marks the change. He is a testimony to the power of the gospel of the grace of God, which alone can bring about such a conversion.
Paul does not soften the record to win the case. He states the failure, then points to the one thing that answers it:
He speaks so tenderly on behalf of Onesimus. Yet he still admits how completely unsatisfactory the man's conduct had been in the past: "Onesimus, that was once to you unprofitable, but now both to you and to me profitable." He had found the Lord. God had brought him to Himself, and he was God's child, not only Paul's. What more could Philemon ask as a guarantee that he would be of use?
Onesimus now belongs to the Lord, and that is what makes his name fit at last:
Onesimus (which means "profitable"), he writes, had once been unprofitable to his master — most likely even before he ran away from him. But he is now the Lord's, and a dear brother in the Lord. So he would now be a real Onesimus — that is, profitable for his master.
Another writer sets the two ends of that change side by side:
A miserable, unprofitable slave, a runaway thief, had become a child of God, born again. The loving servant of the Lord presses him to his heart, calls him "my child," and speaks of him as now profitable to him and to Philemon. Oh, the wonders of divine grace!
The word "unprofitable" does not only describe the slave. It raises a question about the master too:
"Which in time past was to you unprofitable, but now profitable to you and to me" — and what had Philemon been in time past to God? He was foolish and disobedient, serving many lusts and pleasures. But the knowledge of the love of God in his own soul had now made him a useful servant of the Lord.
Kelly weighs what Philemon might feel against what a Christian is here to do:
If he thought of himself as an injured master, and thought of the ingratitude and every other wrong of Onesimus, irritation might be natural, and justice and a warning might be pleaded. Yet the apostle's words were bound to remind Philemon of the grace that is in Christ Jesus. Was he to be in tune with Christ, or out of tune with Him? The Christian is here to reflect Christ. That is to be his daily walk, his greatest business.
What happened to this one runaway is the pattern for everyone born again:
There were unusual features about the conversion of Onesimus. But what marked him at his conversion also marks everyone who is born again. He receives the divine nature. The one who once lived for himself and for this world now lives for the will and pleasure of God, who has done so much for him. So even the youngest, who have come to know God and to trust the Saviour, have the assurance from this Scripture that they can be profitable to God, serving Him wherever He has set them.
- Named. Onesimus means "profitable." His running away turned his own name into a charge against him.
- Useless. Paul admits the failure instead of hiding it. Grace here never pretends the wrong did not happen.
- Changed. "But now" is the hinge. God brought him to Himself and made him His child, so the man became what his name always said.
- Doubled. The profit runs two ways — to Paul, and to the master he had robbed. The change proves itself where he had failed.
- Yours. Philemon had once been unprofitable to God too, and so has every reader. The same grace that made this slave useful can make anyone useful, however young in faith.
whom I have sent back to thee [but do *thou* receive] him, that is, *my* bowels
Onesimus, a runaway slave, had wronged his master Philemon, and now he is on his way back home. In one short sentence Paul both restores a master's rights and tells him what it costs to hand Onesimus over.
Paul sends Onesimus back to his owner, and he does not bargain for terms first. The words he uses for the man he sends are the warmest he has.
The apostle had not forgotten the master's legal claim over his slave: "Whom I send back to you." Our way of speaking can hardly bear "I sent"; in verse 19 we must say, "I write." It is the epistolary aorist, as it is called: the writer speaks from the time when his letter will be read. So Philemon got his rights back. Onesimus returned to his master; the apostle sent him back. He did not write a letter to secure terms for the slave beforehand, nor to make a bargain with the master. Such a bargain could hardly fit the law. It fits the grace and truth that came by Jesus Christ even less. He sends Onesimus back "in person, that is, mine own bowels," or my very heart! Is not this the mind of heaven?
Older translations keep the Greek word for the inward parts — "mine own bowels" — where the ESV reads "my very heart."
Sending Onesimus cost Paul something, and he says plainly what he is after.
Paul discloses the purpose of his letter. It would cost him to send the runaway back. "My very heart" tells us of the deep inner feelings that the wrench would cause. The apostle doesn't stop there but goes on to show how he would dearly have liked to retain Onesimus. His return was very costly to the lonely Roman prisoner, but Paul does not keep him. … Paul knows that this is not just a matter of getting a wayward slave back to his legal master. It is a matter of having a brother received and trust established.
Philemon had real grounds for anger. Paul writes nothing that would feed it.
Onesimus seems to have been guilty of two things. He had run away from his master, and he had also cheated him. As others have noticed, the apostle treats all this with great delicacy! If he refers to the running away, he calls it departing. Writing about his dishonest conduct, Paul offers to repay what is owed. But he does not drop a single word that could feed resentment in Philemon's heart. At the same time he fully upholds the master's rights. That would give Philemon the chance to show the grace in his heart.
Paul's whole request comes down to two words.
In the first place, Paul's word about Onesimus is, "receive him" (verse 12). He was not to be ignored, and much less to be rejected, but to be received. How fully and really has God received us who have believed.
Paul does more than send Onesimus back: he puts himself in the slave's place. Commentators see in this a picture of what Christ has done for us.
Notice how fully Paul identifies himself with his convert. "Receive him," he says, "that is, my very heart." Again, "If you count me a partner, receive him as myself." Once more, "If he has wronged you, or owes you anything, put that on my account. I, Paul, have written this with my own hand. I will repay it." Christ has "repaid" what we owed to God — and how much more! He charged Himself with the whole of our responsibility. And He has given us, in association with Himself, His own place and relationship with the Father, so that we are received as Himself.
Once Paul has said this, Philemon can no longer treat the returning man as a minor domestic problem.
Now Philemon had to show what was really in his heart, and how simple his faith was. … The apostle says of Onesimus, He is my very heart. Could Philemon treat such a man as unimportant? … If the gospel is true, then there was no difference between people in sin, and there is no difference in the great salvation. Onesimus, Philemon and Paul are blessed alike, and blessed perfectly.
- Sent. Paul does not bargain and does not keep the man he needs. He sends Onesimus back and leaves Philemon's rights untouched.
- Costly. "My very heart" is the language of a wrench — the lonely prisoner gives away the one who served him.
- Named. Paul calls the slave his own heart. To receive Onesimus is now to receive Paul.
- Received. Paul asks one thing: receive him. Not ignored, not rejected, but welcomed as a brother — just as God receives those who believe.
- Mirrored. Paul mirrors Christ. Christ took our whole debt on Himself and gives us His own place with the Father, so we are received as He is.
whom *I* was desirous of keeping with myself, that for thee he might minister to me in the bonds of the glad tidings;
Paul writes from prison about Onesimus, a runaway slave who found faith through him and is going back to his owner, Philemon. Here Paul admits he wanted to keep the man, and then gives the wish up.
Onesimus had become useful to Paul in prison. Paul counts his service as Philemon's own, given "on your behalf":
He lets Philemon know that Onesimus had made himself so dear that he was as dear to him as his own heart. He would have liked to keep him at his side in Rome. There Onesimus would have done for Paul every service that Philemon would have done, if Philemon had been in Rome.
What Paul wanted and what Paul decided were two different things:
In Philemon 13 the apostle "would have" kept Onesimus with him: he was desirous of it. But without Philemon's mind he "willed to do nothing."
Paul was content in his chains, and he speaks of bonds of another kind too. One writer traces them back to Christ:
He was content to be in bonds, because he was the Lord's prisoner. In the same way, he was glad to recognise the bonds that made Philemon one with him for ever. Speaking of Onesimus, he says he would have kept him with him, "in the bonds of the gospel." Here is the very mind of Christ. Christ was content to suffer alone, and for us. He called no one in to share all that He had to do in atonement. No one could have stood with Him in that. And what was it all for? That we might be united to Him in eternal bonds. The present purpose of this union is to serve Him in His people, and to confess Him in the world that has shut Him out.
Paul had real need of Onesimus. He sent him back anyway:
The fine feeling and the sense of what is proper that grace forms are truly beautiful. Nothing upholds what is right so much as grace. It gives up what is owed to itself, and it upholds what is owed to others! This is of the greatest importance for our souls to heed. The opposite, sadly, is what usually appears. A person abuses grace by humbling another. The use of grace is to humble yourself, and to show all godly respect to everyone else in your place.
Paul never argues about whether Philemon has a right to own a man. He works on the owner's heart instead:
Slavery was always contrary to God's thoughts. Even so, Paul does not ignore Philemon's position as master over his slave. He sends him back, even though he could have used him for spiritual profit himself, as verse 13 shows... Christianity makes no effort to put right the bad social order of the world. It does not try to fix the world's politics or its economy either. But it does speak in earnest to the heart and conscience of the believer. The aim is that he may gladly and willingly honour God in every relationship he is in. Laws will not change men's hearts. But changed hearts show themselves in changed personal conduct.
Paul could have kept Onesimus and left Philemon to accept it. He would not force a kindness:
Love is of God, but it is always holy and always free. So Paul, speaking for Onesimus, took great care. He wanted everything to flow through Philemon's heart, by the working of the Spirit, to Christ's honour. His grace had shone out in the slave. Could Paul look for anything else in the master? He had real need as a prisoner for Christ, and he valued the service of love. Even so, he looks for it from Philemon just as much as from Onesimus.
- Wish — Paul desired to keep Onesimus, but he willed to do nothing without Philemon's consent.
- Place — kept at Paul's side, Onesimus would have given the service Philemon would have given in person.
- Bonds — Paul's chains became a place of shared service. Christ suffered alone so that we could be joined to Him for ever.
- Right — grace gives up what it is owed and defends what others are owed. It humbles the one who has it, not the one who receives it.
- Free — a forced kindness counts for nothing. The good had to come from Philemon's own heart, since grace had already done its work in his slave.
but I have wished to do nothing without thy mind, that thy good might not be as of necessity but of willingness
Paul is writing to Philemon about Onesimus, a runaway slave who has come to faith while Paul is in prison. Paul would like to keep him, but he sends him back, because he will not take what Philemon has not given willingly.
Paul had every reason to keep Onesimus, and would likely have got his way if he asked.
He greatly wanted to keep Onesimus with him. He was an old man, he was in prison, though still able to serve the Lord in the gospel and in other ministry. For those reasons, and for personal reasons too, he would have valued the help of a younger man. Suppose Paul had decided to keep Onesimus. Philemon would have heard of Paul's circumstances, and would no doubt have agreed to his wish. He would have weighed Paul's need, and remembered too that Paul was an apostle. But no! That would not have been righteous. That would not have been a brotherly way to treat Philemon. Philemon needed the chance to show his own spirit of love and grace, and to show it not because he had to, but willingly. The Lord deals with us the same way. He delights when our response to Him is willing.
The phrase is simple. It carries no hint of distance between the two men.
First, "without your consent," Philemon 14. Here there was no question of drawing a line of separation. It simply means he would not act apart from Philemon.
If Paul had kept Onesimus and told Philemon later, Philemon could only agree to something already settled.
He would have liked to keep Onesimus at his side in Rome. Onesimus would have done for Paul all that Philemon himself would have done, had Philemon been there. But without Philemon's consent Paul would do nothing. That way his action would not be forced by what Paul had done; it would be voluntary.
Paul had already seen grace work in the slave. He waits for it to work in the master too.
Love is of God, but it is always holy and always free. So Paul took care that everything should flow through Philemon's heart, moved by the Spirit, to Christ's honour. His grace had been magnified in the slave: could he look for anything else in the master?
People often use grace as a lever against others. Grace works the other way.
Grace forms a delicate feeling and a sense of what is fitting, and both are exquisite. Nothing upholds what is right so much as grace. While it gives up its own dues, it upholds the dues of others! This matters greatly for our souls. Sadly, the opposite is what we usually see. A person abuses grace by using it to humble someone else. The use of grace is to humble oneself, and to show all godly respect to everyone else in our place.
The same principle reaches our own obedience to God.
How deeply that soul must have known fellowship with Christ, to be able to say "not by compulsion"! And how little we know of His grace when we put our obedience on the ground of duty, instead of seeing it as the unfolding of the life within us. Paul knew that Philemon had this life in union with Christ. That is the life he sought to stir into action. Then obedience would be willing, natural, and easy.
Paul leaves Onesimus's future in Philemon's hands. That is how Christianity works on the world at large.
Christianity makes no effort to fix the bad social structure of the world. It makes no effort to fix its political or economic structure either. But it does speak seriously to the heart and conscience of the believer. He can then honour God willingly and gladly in every relationship he stands in. Laws will not change men's hearts. But changed hearts show themselves in changed conduct.
- Authority held back. Paul had the standing and the need to keep Onesimus. Taking him without asking would not have been righteous or brotherly.
- Consent required. "Without your consent" means Paul would not act apart from Philemon. The decision stayed with the man it belonged to.
- Freedom guarded. A good deed arranged in advance would be forced. Paul leaves it unarranged, so love stays free.
- Grace measured. Grace gives up its own dues while upholding the dues of others; it humbles the one who has it, not the one it is aimed at.
- Willingness produced. Obedience as bare duty is a burden. Obedience flowing from the life within is willing, natural and easy. Changed hearts, not pressure, change conduct.
for perhaps for this reason he has been separated [from thee] for a time, that thou mightest possess him fully for ever;
A runaway slave fled his master, met Paul in prison, and became a believer. Now Paul explains that flight to the man it robbed: a short loss may have won a lasting gain.
Paul does not claim to know God's purpose. He suggests it, and even his choice of verb refuses to point a finger.
This is how the apostle could interpret the otherwise shameful escape of Onesimus. Yet he adds a delicate "perhaps," hoping to carry Philemon along with him. Some of us know how brutal Roman or Greek masters could be in such cases. That cruelty has not been limited to those places and times. But the Christian may and ought to see things in the light and love and interests of Christ. So he does not even say that Onesimus departed. He says he "was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever" — that Philemon might have him in full. The Christian tie is not temporary but everlasting.
The loss was real, but it was short. What Paul sets against it is a gain that outlasts everything, including death.
Paul's appeal goes on. He suggests that God used the events around the slave's running away for His own purposes. It appears God's providence led Onesimus to Rome. If we look only at the present situation, we may fail to see that God is ordering the very circumstance that seems to work against us. If Onesimus had never deserted his post, then Philemon's gain would have been only passing. An unconverted man has no lasting link with a Christian. But the voice of God had reached him and touched his conscience, and the pagan slave had turned to Christ. The reunion would be one that would never end; not even death could touch it.
Saying God used the wrong is not the same as saying the wrong was small. The careful wording of the verse guards that line.
No one knew better than the apostle that where sin had abounded, grace had super-abounded. But there seems a holy caution in the Spirit while speaking of these things, in case we should think or speak of sin lightly. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth, and while He delights to magnify the grace of God in Christ, He always upholds God's holy hatred of sin. Sadly, how often we find that familiarity with the doctrines of grace, where there is no deep work in the soul, leads to light thoughts of sin! What holy caution there is in the words of this verse! The letter hints that Onesimus had wronged Philemon. He had robbed or stolen from him, and then run away. Could God justify dishonesty and fraud? No, for no unrighteous person will inherit the kingdom of God. His dishonesty led him to Rome, led him to Paul, and led him to hear the gospel. But that did not change the character of the sin in the least.
The word translated "forever" is the Greek aionion. The contrast with "for a while" sets its force.
The word aionios does not mean a limited period of time. It means eternal in the plain sense of the word. In Philemon 15, "that you might have him back forever" is aionion, eternally — again set against "for a while."
Commentators differ on how far to press it in this verse. Some read it as the ordinary way anyone speaks of a permanent gift:
When a person says to his friend, "I give you this book, it is yours for ever," he simply means he does not intend to ask for the book back again as long as it exists. But would the friend be in any doubt about what "for ever" means? We believe not. Or when Paul, writing to Philemon about the runaway slave Onesimus, says, "For this perhaps is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever," will the meaning of "for ever," applied to a relationship that in any case ended with this earthly life, present any difficulty to the unprejudiced reader? Certainly not.
The question is not only how long the two men stay together. It is what now holds them, and God holds us in the same way.
In the second place, the word was, "receive him for ever." Formerly the relations between Onesimus and his master were of a sort that could be broken, and in fact were broken by the misconduct of Onesimus. Now there were to be new relations of an order that could not be broken. It is just so in God's gracious dealings with us. As the fruit of Christ's work, we stand before Him in relations that are unfailing and eternal.
- A while — Paul treats the desertion as a short parting, not a permanent escape. He will not even say Onesimus "departed," only that he "was parted."
- A perhaps — Paul offers God's purpose as a suggestion, not a certainty. He wants to carry Philemon's heart with him, not override it.
- No excuse — God's hand in the wrong never makes the wrong smaller. His theft led Onesimus to Rome and to the gospel, and it was theft still.
- Forever — the word means eternal, and here it stands against "for a while." The master-and-slave tie would end; brotherhood in Christ does not.
- Unbreakable — the old tie could break, and it did. The new one cannot, and that is how God has received us through Christ's work.
not any longer as a bondman, but above a bondman, a beloved brother, specially to me, and how much rather to thee, both in [the] flesh and in [the] Lord?
Paul writes to a slave-owner about a runaway. The man has since become a Christian, and Paul asks Philemon to take him back on a new footing. The verse turns on two small words — "no longer" and "more than." What happens to an ordinary relationship when both people belong to Christ?
Onesimus did not stop being a slave. But being a slave stopped being the whole account of him. One writer traces this new standing back to what Christ Himself became:
Suppose Onesimus had served as faithfully as could be, and had never once run away. Even then, a pagan could have no link with a Christian beyond the things that perish. But in the wonderful grace of God, the poor pagan slave heard the voice of Christ while he was away from the household he belonged to. He returned, so that Philemon might have him as never before. He came back no longer as a bondman — though a bondman he was, and he would be the last to dispute the fact — but above a bondman. This came through the Son of God, who became a bondman to make him His freedman.
Pardon for the crime would have been mercy enough. One writer shows what grace adds on top of it:
Philemon had lost a slave but in return he receives more than a slave, he receives a brother in the Lord... This is the wonder of God's grace. Pardon for crimes of the deepest kind — would that not have answered our great need? But grace does not give that alone, and we are lifted up to be brothers. He is not ashamed to call us brothers.
The last phrase of the verse joins two things we keep apart. The new bond does not cancel the old one:
A beloved brother, says the apostle, "especially to me" — more than to anyone else outside Philemon. The tie was close and very dear to Paul, who had brought him to faith, and who was in prison himself. Yet he adds, "but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord." Philemon had known him day by day and stood in a close relationship with him. The apostle still recognises that old tie ("in the flesh"). At the same time he asserts a new one ("in the Lord"), and it can never grow old.
Another writer draws out what that phrase covers:
Paul calls Onesimus a beloved brother "both in the flesh and in the Lord" (Philemon 16). That is a striking phrase. It covers what we call everyday life as well as the interests of the Lord.
The outward situation stays where it was. Neither man may use the new relationship as leverage:
God has given us a new and eternal relationship. It has not pleased Him to change our outward conditions while we are in the world... Paul remains an apostle, high in the church. Philemon remains a master, and Onesimus a slave, though God had made them one in Christ Jesus... Onesimus was a brother, an heir of God and joint-heir of Christ. Even so, it would not have been grace in him to say he was no longer a slave. And it would not have been grace in Philemon, his master, to refuse to acknowledge Onesimus as a brother.
That leaves one question: how do the chains ever come off? One writer answers it:
Paul lays here a broad and deep foundation for a new relation between master and servant. One is still under the other. Yet both must acknowledge a common brotherhood, and both must keep an equality before God. Christianity would melt the chains from the enslaved by the warmth of its love. Men's usual method is to strike them off by armed revolution.
Paul never calls Onesimus a runaway. He puts his own affection first, and that draws Philemon instead of pushing him:
How delicately he expresses it all! He does not speak of Onesimus as having run away, as trying to escape forever from serfdom, but that "he departed for a season."... Paul was asking Philemon to receive his runaway slave as a beloved brother. So that Philemon might not take offence, Paul tells him that Onesimus is a beloved brother especially to himself — and then how much more to Philemon, who had a claim on him.
- Cause. The Son of God became a bondman Himself. That is why a slave is now "more than a bondservant."
- Gift. Grace does not stop at pardon — it raises Onesimus to be a brother, beloved.
- Reach. The new tie runs through both worlds at once: "in the flesh" in Philemon's house, "in the Lord" in a relationship that never grows old.
- Restraint. Onesimus may not demand brotherhood as a right. Philemon may not deny it as a master. Grace melts chains by love, not by revolution.
- Result. Philemon loses a slave for a season and gains a brother forever — the better bargain by far.
If therefore thou holdest me to be a partner [with thee], receive him as me;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
but if he have wronged thee anything or owe anything [to thee], put this to my account.
Paul has just asked Philemon to take back Onesimus, a runaway slave, as he would welcome Paul himself. Now he turns to the money, and puts the whole loss on his own books.
Paul does not pretend nothing happened. He also does not force the word "theft" on his friend.
Onesimus had probably confessed his theft to Paul. Again Paul chooses his words with great care for this delicate matter. He does not call it "theft" outright. He writes "if he has wronged you," and then softens even that to "or owes you anything." Then he declares himself ready to make good the loss. He takes on the debt in place of the slave Onesimus — "charge that to my account." These same five words are translated in Romans 5:13 by the word "impute."
Conversion did not rewrite the past.
There is a hint that Onesimus had wronged Philemon. He had robbed or stolen, and then run away from his master. Could God justify dishonesty and fraud? No; for no unrighteous person shall inherit the kingdom of God. The dishonesty of Onesimus led him to Rome, led him to Paul, led him to hear the gospel. But that did not make it any less wrong.
Two different words lie behind this language of accounts. Paul chose the sharper one.
The word "imputed" here is not the general word for "imputing righteousness." It means putting a specific item to someone's account, which the other word does not. The same word appears in Philemon 18.
So Paul is using a bookkeeping term. One named amount moves from one column to another.
There is a difference between excusing a debt and paying it.
Probably he had defrauded his master. Paul does not overlook this. He does not tell Philemon to just accept the loss, whatever it was. Instead, he freely makes himself the guarantor for its payment, if Philemon should ask for it.
Paul does not leave the promise spoken. He puts it in writing, then adds one line that tips the balance.
The damage done is to go to Paul's account. He writes a promissory note in his own hand — "I will repay it." But what a master-stroke are the words that follow: "though I say nothing about your owing me even your own self besides"!
Commentators read this sentence as a small model of what happened at the cross.
Paul stands between Philemon and Onesimus. That is a faint picture of what Christ has done. Can we not almost hear the blessed Saviour speaking that way? On the cross He charged Himself with our sins and took up the judgment we deserved. Shall we not bless Him for ever that He said to God, about everything our sins deserved, "Charge that to My account."
The parallel runs further than payment.
Christ has "repaid" what we owed to God — and how much more! He charged Himself with the whole of our responsibility. And He has given us, together with Himself, His own place and relationship with the Father, so that we are received as Himself. How blessed is the likeness between the servant and his Master!
If Christ covered our debt at that cost, pressing a brother for his own looks strange.
If anything is due to us from a brother, let us not demand it. The Lord has written it with His own hand, and He will repay. "Why not rather suffer wrong? Why not rather be defrauded?" No one loses by giving something up for the Lord's sake. We owe Him ourselves and all we have, yet He is gracious enough to repay any loss we accept for His name's sake.
Does this verse tell Christians to guarantee other people's debts?
We do not think Philemon 18, 19 gives any warrant at all for what is commonly called going security.
- Debt named. Paul softens the wording, but he never denies the loss. Grace does not pretend the wrong never happened.
- Debt transferred. "Charge that to my account" is a bookkeeping word. It moves one named item onto someone else's page, and it is the word translated "impute" in Romans 5:13.
- Debt signed for. Paul puts his own name behind the debt, in his own handwriting. Then he notes that Philemon owes him his very self.
- Debt repaid. At the cross Christ said the same thing to God about our sins, and then gave us His own place, so we are received as Himself.
- Debt released. Anyone carried like that will not press claims against a brother. Nothing given up for the Lord's sake is ever lost.
*I* Paul have written [it] with mine own hand; *I* will repay [it] that I say not to thee that thou owest even thine own self also to me.
Paul has just asked Philemon to charge any loss caused by Onesimus, a runaway servant, to his own account. In verse 19 he signs that promise in his own handwriting. He takes on a debt that was never his, then reminds Philemon of a far larger debt running the other way.
Paul rarely held the pen himself.
It was Paul's custom to employ someone to write his letters for him (see Romans 16:22; Galatians he wrote himself, Galatians 6:11). But at the end he wrote a few words with his own hand, or, we suppose, signed his name. He did this so that it would be a token to them that the letter was genuine.
The signature does a second job. It makes Paul the one who pays:
The damage done goes to Paul's account, and he writes with his own hand a promissory note — "I will repay it." But what a master-stroke are the words that follow: "to say nothing of your owing me even your own self"!
Paul does not ask Philemon to swallow the loss. He treats the wrong as a real debt, then settles it himself.
The apostle does not ignore the past and neither does God, who calls the past to account. Restitution must be made. The debtor has nothing to pay with. But the apostle pledges with his own signature to restore what he did not take away. "I Paul … I will repay …" Paul wants to remove all obstacles for Philemon and his household. But Paul gently, graciously reminds Philemon of his own debt to Paul. In this way the two accounts cancel each other out and settle the matter.
Charging one person's debt to someone else's account has a name, and it points past Philemon's ledger:
Onesimus seems to have robbed his master before running away. Confirming that he stands as guarantor, Paul adds: "I will repay it." This reminds us of the doctrine of imputation, although it is put before us as an illustration and not given as direct teaching.
Paul steps into the debtor's place. Writers have long seen the gospel acted out in that move.
Notice how fully Paul identifies himself with his convert — "receive him," he says, "that is, my very heart." … Christ has "repaid" (and how much more!) what we owed to God, for He charged Himself with the whole of our responsibility. And He has given us, in association with Himself, His own place and relationship with the Father, so that we are received as Himself.
The last clause is the gentlest possible pressure. Paul mentions the counter-debt by saying he will not mention it.
How without effort the apostle breathes and speaks nothing but grace, and grace reigning through righteousness!… Paul stands forth with repeated personal emphasis in the spirit of loving substitution: "I Paul write with my own hand, I will repay." But even here he will not let Philemon go without one gracious arrow, effective as it is: "to say nothing of your owing me even your own self." Here was a debt Philemon would be the last to forget or play down… What in comparison was any bad debt on the score of the poor slave? Philemon owed, gladly owed, himself to Paul.
Set the two debts side by side in a ledger:
So Philemon himself had been converted through Paul; and if he opened in his ledger an account with Paul's name at the head and debited him with the money lost through Onesimus, he would have to credit him with the value of that devoted service. That service had brought him, through terrific opposition and suffering, life and salvation to eternal days.
Paul could have pressed his claim. He does not, and that sets the pattern for debts owed to us.
If anything is due to us from a brother, let us not demand it. He has written it with His own hand, He will repay. "Why not rather suffer wrong? Why not rather be defrauded?" No one is a loser by giving up anything for the Lord's sake… What a double obligation of grace lay on Philemon! He was a debtor to the grace of the Lord and a debtor to the grace of the servant.
Commentators differ on how far to press this. One warns against reading it as a rule for guaranteeing other people's debts:
We do not think Philemon 18, 19, affords any warrant whatever for what is commonly called going security.
- Debt — Onesimus owed a real sum he could not pay. Paul does not shrink the wrong; he covers it.
- Signature — Paul's own handwriting turns the sentence into a signed promissory note, his usual proof that a letter is his.
- Substitution — "Put it to my account" is the language of charging a debt to another. It pictures what Christ has repaid for us, as an illustration rather than direct teaching.
- Counter-debt — Philemon owed Paul his own self. Set beside that, the slave's theft was small, and the accounts balance.
- Grace passed on — owing so much himself, Philemon is free to forgive rather than forced. Commentators warn against making the verse a rule for guaranteeing debts.
Yea, brother, *I* would have profit of *thee* in [the] Lord refresh my bowels in Christ.
Paul has just offered to pay whatever Onesimus owes. Now he turns from the runaway servant to the master with an appeal of his own — one that plays on a name, recalls what Philemon was already known for, and never becomes a command.
Paul's word for the benefit he wants picks up the name of the man he is writing about.
Twice in this letter Paul plays on the name Onesimus, which means "profitable." But Onesimus had not lived up to his name. He ran away from his master Philemon and perhaps even stole something. Onesimus had gone through a complete change. The apostle points to this in verse 11, with the words "unprofitable" and "profitable" (Greek: achrestos – euchrestos). In verse 20 he speaks to Philemon directly when he says "I would have profit of you" (Darby) (Greek: onaimen).
Paul asks something for himself. But he shapes the request so that the one who grants it gains most.
This appeal closes with touching words: "Yes, brother, let me have profit of you in the Lord: refresh my heart in Christ." He began with "brother" in verse 7, and he says it again here in verse 20. It was not wasted on Philemon. Paul was looking for genuine love, not for a favour granted from above. The gain he longed for was Philemon's even more than his own, without telling him so. Philemon faced a present need and all the past provocation. Grace on his part would be the most soothing refreshment to the wounds and sufferings of the aged apostle. Selfishness was excluded. All he sought was in the Lord — in Christ.
Paul had already told Philemon that he refreshed other believers' hearts. Now he asks the same for himself, as a brother.
That word "fellowship" — what a blessed word it is! All that we share with one another, we share as being one with Him. The apostle beautifully brings Philemon's soul into realising this fellowship with himself: "For we have great joy and comfort in your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, brother." The apostle's soul delighted in this relationship, which tied him to Timothy, and Timothy and himself to Philemon. It stood on far higher ground than any natural relationship. They were brothers to one another only because each of them was the brother of Jesus.
(These writers quote older translations; the ESV has "I want some benefit from you.")
A reader today may want Paul to attack slavery itself instead of appealing to one master.
The Spirit of God does not set up a mere code of human rights. Christianity is not a system of earthly righteousness. It is the unfolding of the grace of Christ, and of heavenly hopes. It brings souls to God, who by that cross delivers them from all wrongs. It lifts them above these rights, not in pride of heart, but bowed down by the rich mercy of the Lord. Nothing upholds the rights of others so well; but at the same time it is no question of clinging to our own.
Paul could have demanded compliance. He does not, and in that he follows his Master.
The servant dare not undertake more than the Lord has done. He knew the ways of his Lord, and that is why he used language like this. If a brother owes us anything, let us not demand it… No one loses by giving something up for the Lord's sake. We owe ourselves to Him, and all that we have. Yet He is so gracious that He undertakes to repay any loss we put up with for His name's sake. What a double debt of grace Philemon was placed under! A debtor to the grace of the Lord — a debtor to the grace of the servant… He might claim everything, since "we are not our own." But it is His joy to put us in a place of standing in grace and doing what pleases Him. Paul had now put Philemon on his standing in grace, and then he adds his appeal. Paul wanted his own inmost affections refreshed, just as Philemon's faith and love had refreshed the hearts of the saints.
Another writer traces this refreshment higher.
Paul wanted Philemon to give him joy, to refresh his heart in the Lord (v. 20). If it so refreshed His servant to look at this display of divine grace, how much more the Lord! He loves to see Himself reproduced in practice in His own people who are in the world.
- Profit. Paul's word for benefit echoes the name Onesimus, "profitable." The servant who once failed his name now brings profit back to Paul.
- Brother. The appeal rests on a shared standing, not on rank. They are brothers to each other only because each is the brother of Jesus.
- Refresh. Philemon had already refreshed the hearts of other believers. Paul now asks the same of him, and asks it "in the Lord."
- Grace, not rights. Paul does not press a claim. He gives up his own dues while upholding others'.
- Reproduced. Such grace refreshes the apostle. It refreshes the Lord far more, because He loves to see Himself reproduced in His people.
Being confident of thine obedience, I have written to thee, knowing that thou wilt do even more than I say.
Paul is asking Philemon to take back Onesimus, a slave who ran away. He ends the appeal with trust, not pressure. He writes as a man already sure of the answer. Two questions follow. What obedience is Paul counting on? And what is the "more" he expects Philemon to do?
Paul could have used his authority as an apostle. He chose not to. No command can produce grace.
You can never demand or claim grace. In writing the letter to Philemon, the Apostle brings motives of grace to bear on the case. He does not dictate what Philemon was to do, but reminds him of his heavenly relationship, and leaves it to Philemon's grace. Roman masters — and indeed any others — had the right to put a runaway slave to death. Under the law that punishment was just. Yet Paul would have Philemon receive him back no longer as a slave, but as a brother.
The word "obedience" can sound cold and mechanical. Writers point to the heart Paul already knew in Philemon.
Paul knew Philemon's obedience well. It was not just a mechanical obedience. It came from a heart ready and eager to please the Lord, and to do more than duty demanded.
Paul never names the extra thing he expects. Another letter gives a clue. Commentators compare how Paul presents Onesimus to the believers at Colossae.
Compare this with Colossians 4:9. There Paul presents Onesimus to the Colossian believers in the most formal way, as "our faithful and beloved brother, who is one of you." I think anyone is right who concludes that the apostle looked for more in the transformed slave than a simple saint. He was therefore all the more eager for a new triumph of grace in Philemon — not only in taking the wrongdoer back to his heart, but in setting him free.
Paul's certainty came from the grace he lived in himself.
The apostle has full assurance of the response he wants from his loving appeal. He has complete confidence in Philemon's obedience, and he says plainly that this is why he wrote. With a full heart of love, he counted on an overflowing answer from Philemon. He lived in the truth of grace himself, and grace delights to give. So he expected grace to act just as freely in his friend and brother.
Paul's trust was not optimism about people. Writers trace it to the new nature God gives, which no fixed rule can measure.
God knows what is in man, and He knows what that new nature is which He has imparted — it is His own nature. God can and does count heavily on it, although He puts no confidence at all in the flesh. The God of all grace has done more for us than we could ever have asked. He might have required everything as Lord. Instead He puts us in the place of showing grace. Written rules can fence in a slave's obedience, but not a believer's. Who would set limits to love? Who would say to a child, this is all my heart expects from you?
Paul deals with Philemon the way the Lord deals with us. That is why this short private letter matters to every reader.
Notice how our gracious Lord keeps giving us opportunities to show grace. He rarely speaks to us in the tone of a command: "Go," "Do this." Instead He says, here is My mind — go and carry it out as far as you can. And everyone who is perfect shall be as his Master.
- Authority laid down. Paul could have commanded. But grace can never be demanded or claimed, so he reminds Philemon of his heavenly relationship and leaves the choice to him.
- Confidence placed. Paul's assurance rests on the new nature God gives. God counts heavily on that nature, though He puts no confidence at all in the flesh.
- Obedience willing. Paul counts on a heart eager to please the Lord, not mere machine-like compliance. Rules cannot fence in that obedience, because no one sets limits to love.
- Grace overflowing. Paul lived in the grace that delights to give, so he expected free giving in return. The "more than I say" is love's overflow, not an extra duty.
- Freedom expected. Commentators read the unnamed "more" as freedom for Onesimus. It would be a new triumph of grace: the wrongdoer not just forgiven, but set free.
But withal prepare me also a lodging; for I hope that I shall be granted to you through your prayers.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Epaphras salutes thee, my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus;
Paul's letter to Philemon closes with greetings from the men who were with him. The first name is Epaphras, and the title Paul gives him carries weight: a fellow prisoner, and a prisoner "in Christ Jesus."
Epaphras is not a stranger dropped into the last lines. One dictionary gathers his whole story from three short mentions:
Fellow prisoner with Paul at Rome. He worked at Colossae, the place he belonged to. He is described as "a faithful minister of Christ," and as one who agonised in prayer for the Colossians, with zeal for their welfare. Col. 1:7; Col. 4:12; Philemon 23.
What does "fellow prisoner" mean here? Kelly sets the word beside other titles Paul uses, and will not press it too far:
It is not "fellow-soldier," as said of Archippus in verse 2... It is not exactly desmios, "prisoner," as Paul speaks of himself in this and in other letters. Nor do we have enough reason to say that Andronicus, Junias and Epaphras were bound in a literal chain. The apostle himself was bound, for Christ's sake. Yet it is a word of force, and means a captive, or war prisoner. Certainly we hear of no outward event in the conflicts of the gospel that gives a ground for such a title.
One writer sets the two letters side by side and stops at a question:
In the letter to the Colossians Aristarchus was his fellow prisoner. Here it is Epaphras. Did the saints take it in turn to share the apostle's imprisonment?
Kelly knows the same suggestion from other writers. He finds one text stands in its way:
Meyer, following Fritzsche, suggests that some of the apostle's companions chose to share his prison by turns. On this view, it was the turn of Aristarchus when he wrote to the Colossians, and of Epaphras when he wrote to Philemon... This is ingenious, no doubt; but Rom. 16:7 presents no small difficulty to accepting it.
Why did the Lord leave Paul in prison? One writer answers by looking at what the prison produced:
There is nothing more blessed than this thought: Jesus is able to throw Himself into our own circumstances. He was in prison with Paul. He could as easily have delivered him out of prison as He had delivered Peter. But He chose rather to share the prison with him. There He made him the keeper of His deepest thoughts. We have the prison to thank for the deep revelations of the mind of God in the letters to the Ephesians and Colossians. It was not the active travelling. And so it was, in a lower degree, with Paul and Epaphras — the prison deepened their fellowship with one another.
Prayer is what Epaphras is known for. Mackintosh makes it the test for every kind of service:
But behind everything, we want a spirit of prayer — fervent, agonising, persevering prayer. Without this, nothing can prosper. A prayerless man is a dried-up man. A prayerless preacher is a profitless preacher. A prayerless writer will send out barren pages. A prayerless evangelist will do little good. A prayerless pastor will have little food for the flock. We want men of prayer, men like Epaphras. Only the walls of the room where they pray alone see their agonising labours.
Epaphras comes first in this list of names. Kelly warns against reading rank into that:
Luke, called "the beloved physician" in Col. 4:14, here comes last among the fellow workers: clear proof that the order in no way marks, as men do, the spiritual value or the honourable rank of those brought before us.
- Captive. Paul's word for Epaphras is not "prisoner" or "fellow soldier" but captive — a war prisoner. It is a word of real force, though we have no firm ground for saying he wore literal chains.
- By turns. Colossians gives this title to Aristarchus, Philemon to Epaphras. One suggestion is that friends shared Paul's prison by turns. Kelly finds Romans 16:7 stands in the way.
- Shared. The Lord could have opened the prison, as He did for Peter. He chose instead to keep Paul company inside it, and the prison deepened the bond with Epaphras too.
- Prayer. What Epaphras left behind was agonising prayer for his home town. That labour needs no gift and no platform.
- Unranked. First place in the list is not first place in value; the order of names carries no spiritual rank.
Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, Luke, my fellow-workmen.
Paul ends this personal letter by sending greetings from four men who were with him while he was a prisoner. Each name carries a story: a helper Paul once refused, a friend who chose danger, and a man who would later walk away.
Paul calls all four men his fellow workers. One writer weighs what that title was worth, coming from Paul:
Paul alone has given us Luke's name, and here he described him by the honourable title of "fellow-labourer." We call it an honourable title considering who Paul was. But it is one shared with others, in this letter and elsewhere.
Paul used the same kind of title for Philemon and Archippus:
Philemon was counted among Paul's co-workers, and Archippus as a fellow soldier. These terms are not used lightly. That would not suit the dignity of the apostle. Paul puts their ministries alongside his own. They were united in common service for Christ. They had known toil and conflict in the same field, in the cause of Christ.
Luke's name comes last in the list. That says less than it seems:
Luke, called "the beloved physician" in Col. 4:14, comes last among the fellow-workers. This is clear proof that the order does not rank these men by spiritual value or honour, as a human list would.
Mark had not always been welcome beside Paul. One writer tells what happened, and how it ended:
Barnabas wanted his relative Mark to go with them on their second missionary journey. Paul disagreed, because Mark had left them in Pamphylia and had not gone on with them to the work. So they parted company… Yet the great apostle to the Gentiles has left on record how much he valued his former helper in later years. Twice he commended him to the Colossian believers as a man who belonged among his honoured fellow-labourers (Col. 4:11; Philemon 24). That commendation held to the end of his life. In his last letter, the second to Timothy, he wrote, "Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry" (2 Tim. 4:11). It is pleasant to find that by true service Mark had won back the apostle's esteem.
Here Paul makes no mention of that failure. He simply names Mark among his fellow workers.
Aristarchus travelled with Paul and stayed with him on the sea voyage:
We see at once that Luke is with the apostle on his voyage, and Aristarchus also… Aristarchus has come before us from time to time in the book of Acts as the companion of the apostle (Acts 19:29; Acts 20:4). His name appears again later in Col. 4:10 and Philemon 24. Neither appears to have been a prisoner at this time. Both took their place beside the man who was treated that way. Love led them to join him in the face of shame and danger.
Paul describes the same man differently in his letter to Colosse:
In Colossians, Aristarchus shares the apostle's captivity, and in Philemon it is Epaphras who does. In Philemon, Aristarchus is called a fellow-labourer of the apostle along with others, while in Colossians Epaphras is spoken of at least as a servant of Christ. They may have shared the apostle's imprisonment one after another, as someone has suggested.
The fourth name is the sad one. Paul's last mention of Demas reads nothing like this one:
In Philemon he calls him a "fellow-labourer," along with Mark, Aristarchus and Luke. In 2 Timothy he has to say, "Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me." Nothing can be sadder than this last word about a man who had stood so close to the apostle Paul, a man who carried such a testimony. The final break with Paul may have been sudden. But we may be sure his soul had been slipping away long before… A gradual decline of spiritual life and energy always comes before an open failure.
Standing this close to Paul was itself a test:
It spoke well for the apostle that no one who loves this present world could stay with him.
Commentators differ on how far Demas fell. One reference work says this "may mean, not that he had given up the faith, but that he had fallen away from Paul's line of service through love of this present age" (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
- Fellow. One word covers all four men and sets their labour beside Paul's own — a weighed title, not a courtesy.
- Level. Luke comes last in the list, yet the order ranks no one above another.
- Restored. Mark once quit the work, yet Paul names him here with no mention of that failure.
- Costly. Aristarchus was no prisoner. Love still brought him alongside a man in chains, into the shame and the danger.
- Warning. Demas holds the same honourable title here, yet he later walked out on Paul — open failure follows a long, quiet decline.
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ [be] with your spirit.
Paul has spent this whole letter pleading with a master about his slave. He ends with one short line: grace for a whole household, and grace at one point — the spirit.
William Kelly ties this last line to the great truth that grace reigns. He also asks what truth is worth if we never live in it. Note that he quotes an older translation, which reads "our Lord Jesus Christ."
"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit" (Philemon 25) is the final greeting of the apostle to them all. It fits this letter exactly. On the practical side it answers to grace reigning through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. And what good is truth that we do not live and walk in? The apostle never fails to wish it for all saints, in every letter of his, great or small. Sometimes the wish is longer, sometimes shorter. But it lies under them all. And in none of them is this wish of faith and love more fitting than here.
The closing wish reaches further than the greetings. One writer points out who it covers, and why this private letter belongs in the Bible.
The greetings, we have said, were to Philemon. Paul's closing wish was for the whole company in his house. "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit." God's wisdom shows in placing this letter among the writings that form the Scriptures of truth. For the doctrines of grace we must turn elsewhere. But this letter settles certain questions about social life and Christianity.
Paul could have written "with you." Leslie Grant takes the wording as a pointer to what should steer a hard decision inside us. He adds that two other letters end the same way.
In closing, the apostle wishes them the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ to be with their spirit. In Galatians also at the end he speaks similarly, and in 2 Timothy. No doubt this shows that the spirit is to hold the place of control, rather than the soul. That is, the knowledge and wisdom of the human spirit is to come before the desires and feelings of the soul. We can see this in each of these letters. But he returns to the plural in this last verse. So everyone he addressed in verses 1 and 2 is to weigh this, and we too, if we ever face similar circumstances. For if the spirit stays in proper communion with the Lord, we will make our decisions in a proper spirit.
The letter asks a great deal of Philemon. Where would he find what it takes?
The final greeting of the apostle to all is also a prayer. The Lord who gave Himself to redeem the saints in Colosse would also give grace to do all that Paul asked, and more. We need grace to give real expression to true Christianity. We must live truth out in daily life, and grace is the power that makes that possible.
So what does grace ask of a master, and what does it ask of his slave? Kelly answers with one standard for both.
Believing masters and slaves are equally debtors to grace. Both are equally responsible to give careful attention to good works. And the best work of all is to answer in spirit, word, and deed to the gracious Master of all of us who believe, whether free or slave.
So the last line is more than a polite sign-off. It is a wish for every Christian home.
It means much that the apostle ends, by the Holy Spirit, with these words: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit!" May that same grace mark the households of all the saints!
- Grace received. Master and slave stand on the same ground. Both are debtors to grace, whatever their rank.
- Grace asked. The closing line is a prayer, not a formality. The Lord who redeemed them would supply all the letter asks, and more.
- Grace placed. Paul asks it for the spirit, so that the spirit, not the feelings, steers the decision.
- Grace spread. The "your" is plural. It takes in everyone greeted at the start, so the whole house must weigh it.
- Grace lived. Truth we do not walk in is worth nothing. Grace is the power that turns the letter's plea into daily conduct at home.