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.