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Sermons

Christ’s Extended Family

September 5, 2010, 10:30 am
Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
The Rev. Donald B. Wahlig
Associate Pastor for Outreach and Evangelism

Jeremiah 18:1-11; Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18; Philemon 1:1-22; Luke 14:25-33;

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Our epistle lesson this morning is from one of the shortest books in the entire Bible–it’s just 25 verses long. But, it is a masterpiece of church diplomacy, an example of the Apostle Paul at his rhetorical best, and an extraordinary blend of tact and persuasion.

It’s not actually a book–it’s a letter. The apostle Paul is writing to his dear friend and partner in ministry, Philemon. Paul is in prison, “a prisoner for Christ Jesus” as he says. We know that this was not unusual for Paul. He was imprisoned several times throughout his missionary travels.

We know far less about Philemon and his relationship to Paul, so we will have to fill in the blanks in order to understand the context of this letter.

Philemon is the head of a house church, probably in Colossae, that cosmopolitan crossroads in Asia Minor where Western Turkey is today. Apphia and Archippus are probably his wife and son. It’s clear that they are both involved in helping Philemon lead the congregation that meets in their home.

In the early days of Christianity, there were no churches of the sort we know today. It was typical for groups of 15-30 Christians to meet in the home of the person whose house was large enough to accommodate them all. This person would usually have a leadership role in that church. So, it’s likely that Philemon is the wealthiest member of this house church, as well as its leader.

Now, let’s take a closer look at how Paul crafts his letter. After offering greetings to Philemon and his wife and son, Paul makes it clear that Philemon is near and dear to his heart. He tells Philemon that he is grateful to God for Philemon’s “love for all the saints” and his “faith toward the Lord Jesus”. A better translation of verse 6 is that Paul prays that Philemon’s community of faith–that is, his church–may become effective when Philemon perceives “all the good we may do for Christ.”

We are entitled to stop at this point, and ask the question that Paul begs. Is Philemon’s house church not effective? What good thing for Christ has he failed to perceive?

Surely, Philemon was asking those same questions as he read the letter, not once or twice, but almost certainly several times, maybe even out loud to his family. But Paul doesn’t dwell on this point. He merely plants the seed of his argument–and then moves on. He tells Philemon how his love has been a source of joy and encouragement for Paul because, through Philemon, “the hearts of the saints have been refreshed.”

What a curious phrase. What is this refreshment of the heart that Paul is referring to? Nowhere else in scripture is it mentioned except later in this same letter. We will have to wait, then, in order make a better guess at what Paul has in mind.

Now, Paul moves to the main business of his letter. He is writing on behalf of Philemon’s slave, a man named Onesimus. Onesimus has run away, perhaps taking some of his master’s property with him. He has come to Paul, who has converted him to Christianity. Paul has grown fond of him, even referring to him as “my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment.”

Then Paul makes a word-play on Onesimus’ name, which means “useful” in Greek. He writes “Formerly, he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to both you and me.” Paul would like to keep Onesimus with him. That may, in fact, be what Onesimus has begged him to do, knowing the penalty for a slave who has run away.

In the Roman Empire, slaves either sold themselves into slavery because they couldn’t feed themselves or their families, or they were forced into slavery because they had failed to repay a debt. Once this happened, they were completely cut off from their former lives and families. They were at the mercy of their masters who had complete control over their lives. If a slave ran away, a master was entitled to discipline him in any way, short of killing him. Slaves were, simply, property.

In effect, then, Paul is in possession of property which is not his, and this puts him on the wrong side of the law. Both the Torah and Roman civil law dictate that he must send Onesimus back to his lawful owner.

However, Paul is subject to an even higher power: he is an apostle of Jesus Christ. And that means following Christ’s radical re-ordering of human relationships. As Jesus warns the crowds who trail after him in our gospel text, following him means becoming a member of a new family, one that takes precedence over even our biological relationships.

Paul knows this well. He’s given his entire life to following Christ and growing Christ’s extended family. He knows that, in Jesus Christ, we belong to each other. All who claim Christ’s name are brothers and sisters in Christ, called to treat each other as members of Christ’s family with the same love that our savior showed for us when he willingly died on the cross for our salvation.

And, in a nutshell, this is what Paul is asking Philemon to do: to receive Onesimus back, not as a slave, but as a brother in Christ. He does it with extraordinary tact and skill, because it is radical, uncommon–it goes against the common ordering of life in the first century Mediterranean world in which they live.

And Paul asks Philemon to do this not because it is his duty, not even because Philemon owes Paul his life. After all, it was Paul’s Christian teaching that has led Philemon to salvation. No, it is not for any of those reasons. It is, above all else, for the sake of love that Paul asks Philemon to take Onesimus back, to release him from the bonds of slavery and to treat him as a fellow brother in Christ in the life of his church.

I’ve been wondering how Philemon felt, holding Paul’s letter in his hand, considering this audacious request. Owning slaves was a sign of privilege and a source of income. How would Philemon feel about the prospect of not only receiving Onesimus back without punishment, but releasing him from slavery and treating him as a brother in the fellowship of the church that meets in his home?

How would you or I feel if we were in Philemon’s shoes?

And yet, that is what Jesus Christ calls all of us in his church to do. Out of love for him, we, too, are called to re-order our relationships and to include in our common life everyone who claims his name and we are to treat them as brothers and sisters in Christ.

We are to do this not begrudgingly, not half-heartedly, not out of a superficial sense of being politically correct, but out of love, genuine love, love that comes from knowing the grace of God in Jesus Christ, the one in whom God’s love was made flesh.

This is no easy task. In fact, I don’t think it’s any easier for us than it was for Philemon. It’s only possible through God’s grace.

Nowhere do we experience that grace as powerfully as we do in communion. As we participate in the Lord’s Supper, we experience God’s grace anew, through union with Christ and, through him, with one another.

If you are a first-time visitor with us, you may be struck by the fact that, we begin our communion liturgy by asking the congregation to “Lift up your hearts” and the congregation will respond, “We lift them to the Lord.” These are more than just words.

We affirm what the great Reformed theologian John Calvin taught almost 500 years ago: that in the Lord’s Supper, the important thing is not what happens to this bread and this wine. The important thing is what happens to us, that we experience God’s grace through union with Christ.

In communion, we believe that Jesus Christ is really and truly present with us, uniting our hearts with his, and transforming our lives and our relationships, both here now, and when we leave this place.

That is the transformative power of the love we experience through Jesus Christ here at the table. It propels us upward and then outward to love our neighbor.

If it doesn’t, then we need to change the way we approach communion and the way we treat our neighbor. Centuries before Calvin wrote, John Chrysostom, one of the early church fathers, criticized those Christians who came to receive bread at the Lord’s table and then, when they left worship, failed to share their food with their hungry brothers and sisters in Christ. They missed the point: communion is “the bond of love” that inspires compassion and care for one another.

This is the experience of which Paul writes when he speaks of his heart being refreshed through Philemon’s love and faith in Christ. And it’s also why I would bet my bottom dollar that, when Paul returned to visit Philemon, he found that Philemon had done exactly as he asked, not only welcoming Onesimus back with open arms, but inviting him into the congregation as a brother, no longer a slave. And, we can well imagine how that experience of God’s grace refreshed Onesimus’ own heart.

Friends, you and I are followers of Jesus Christ. We are heirs to God’s covenant in him, and we are members of his extended family. In just a few moments, we will celebrate the Lord’s Supper at this table. We will unite our hearts with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. How will this experience of his love prompt us to love others this week? Whose heart will we refresh? That is the question we take with us this day.

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