Homilies on Philemon 0.1–1.2

First it is necessary to state the subject of the letter, and then the questions raised about it. What then is the subject? Philemon was one of the admirable and noble men. (That he was admirable is clear from the fact that his whole household was believing, and so believing that it was even called a church. That is why Paul, writing, said, “and to the church in your house.” He also bears witness to his great obedience, and that the hearts of the saints were refreshed through him. And in this letter he himself charged him to prepare a lodging. So, it seems to me, his house was a hostel for the saints in every respect.) This admirable man, then, had a slave, Onesimus. This Onesimus stole something from his master and ran away; for that he stole, hear what Paul says: “If he has wronged you at all, or owes anything, I will repay.” Coming then to Paul at Rome, and finding him in prison, he enjoyed his teaching and obtained baptism there. That he obtained the gift of baptism there is clear from his saying, “whom I have begotten in my bonds.” Paul then writes commending him to his master, so that in every respect there might be a release, and that he might receive him as one now born again. But since some say that it is superfluous for this letter too to be included, since Paul made a request about a small matter, about one man, let all who bring these charges learn that they themselves deserve countless charges. For not only should letters as short as this, sent about such necessary matters, have been written down; but would that it were possible to have someone to hand down to us the history of the apostles — I do not mean only what they wrote and discoursed, but also the rest of their conduct: what they ate and when, when they sat and where they walked, what they did each day, in what regions they were, what house they entered and where they lodged — and to relate everything exactly: so full of great benefit is everything that came from them. But since most people do not know the gain from this, they attempt to find fault. For if, seeing only the places where they sat or were bound, lifeless places, we often send our mind there, picture their virtue, are roused, and become more eager, much more would we be if we had heard their words and their other deeds. A man asks about a friend, where he is staying, what he is doing, where he is going; and should we not learn these things about the common teachers of the world, tell me? For when someone lives spiritually, his bearing and his gait, his words and his deeds, everything simply, benefit the hearers, and nothing hinders or becomes an obstacle. Still, it is profitable for you to learn that the letter was sent about necessary things. See then how many things are achieved from it. The first is that one should be earnest about everything. For if Paul takes such care for a runaway, a robber and thief, and does not refuse to send him off with such great praises, nor is ashamed, much more ought we not to be careless about such things. Second, that we must not despair of the race of slaves, even if it goes to the utmost wickedness. For if the thief, the runaway, became so virtuous that Paul wanted to make him his partner, and wrote, “that on your behalf he might minister to me,” much more must we not despair of free men. Third, that it is not fitting to draw slaves away from their masters. For if Paul, who had such confidence with Philemon, did not want to keep Onesimus, who was so useful and serviceable to him for ministry, against his master's will, much more must we not do this. For if the servant is admirable, he should for this very reason remain in his slavery and acknowledge his master's authority, so that he may become a cause of benefit to all in the house. Why do you take the lamp from the lampstand and put it under the bushel? Would that it were possible to bring those outside into the cities! “What then,” someone says, “if he too becomes bad?” Why, tell me, I beg you? Because he came into the city? But consider that outside he will be even worse; for one who has become bad inside will be much more so when outside. For here he is freed even from necessary care, since his master takes thought for him; but there the care about these things will perhaps lead him away even from … And blessed Paul, giving them the best counsel, said, “Were you called as a slave? Do not let it trouble you; but even if you can become free, use it rather,” that is, remain in slavery. And what is most necessary of all, so that the word of God may not be blasphemed, as he himself said writing: “Let as many as are slaves under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honour, so that the name of God and the teaching may not be blasphemed.” For the Greeks too will say that one can please God even as a slave; otherwise many are driven to blaspheme and say that Christianity has been brought into the world for the overthrow of everything, since masters are deprived of their servants, and the thing is a matter of violence. Shall I say something else too? He teaches us not to be ashamed of our servants, if they are virtuous. For if Paul, the most admirable of all men, says so much about this one, much more should we about ours. Since, then, so much is achieved, though we have not yet said everything, does anyone think it superfluous that this letter too has been included? And how would this not belong to the utmost folly? Let us then attend, I beg you, to the letter written by the apostle; for having gained so much already, we will gain more …

[Homily 1] “Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ, and Timothy our brother, to Philemon our beloved and fellow worker, … and to the church in your house: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” These words are written on behalf of a slave to a master. At once, from the opening, he brought down the master's pride, did not let him be ashamed, quenched his anger, and made the matter in hand seem of another kind. For if a bond for Christ's sake is not a shame but even a boast, much less is slavery a reproach. And he says these things not exalting himself, but doing it profitably, and showing his trustworthiness from this, not for his own sake but in order to receive the favour more readily; as if he said, “For your sakes I wear this bond”; as indeed he said elsewhere, there showing his care, here his trustworthiness. Nothing is greater than this boast, to be called, as it were, a branded slave of Christ: “For I bear the marks of Christ,” he says. “The prisoner of Christ”: for he was bound for his sake. Who would not feel respect, who would not be put to shame, hearing of Christ's bonds? Who would not give up even his soul, let alone one servant? “And Timothy the brother.” He takes another along with himself, so that Philemon, entreated by many, may yield the more and grant the favour. “To Philemon the beloved and our fellow worker.” If he is beloved, confidence toward him is not daring or rashness but a sign of great friendship; if a fellow worker, he ought not only to be entreated in such matters, but also to be grateful; for he does himself a favour, he builds up the same work. So even without a request, he says, you have another obligation to grant the favour; for if Onesimus is useful to the gospel, and you are zealous for the gospel, then you ought not to be asked, but to ask. “And to Apphia the beloved.” She seems to me to be his wife. See Paul's humility: he takes Timothy too to help in the request, and asks not only the husband but also the wife, and perhaps another friend. “And to Archippus,” he says, “our fellow soldier.” He does not wish to accomplish such things by command, nor is he indignant if he is not obeyed at once when he orders; but he asks them too to do what an unknown man would do, so that they may take hold of the request. For not only being asked by many but also making the request to many contributes something to obtaining what is asked. That is why he said, “and to Archippus our fellow soldier.” If you are a fellow soldier, you ought to share in these things too. This is the Archippus about whom he wrote to the Colossians, “Say to Archippus, ‘See to the ministry which you received in the Lord, that you fulfil it.’” He seems to me to be one of those enrolled in the clergy; him too he takes into the request, and calls him a fellow soldier, so that he may help in every way. “And to the church in your house.” He did not pass over even the slaves here; for he knows that often even the words of slaves can turn a master, especially when the request is on behalf of a slave; and perhaps they were the ones most provoked. So he does not let them fall into envy, honouring them with the greeting together with the masters. But neither does he allow the master to be indignant. For if he had named them, perhaps he would have been indignant; but if he had not mentioned them, they might have been vexed. See, then, how wisely he found a way, by mentioning them, both to honour them by the mention and not to wound him. For the name of “church” does not let masters be indignant if they are numbered with servants. For the church does not know the difference between master and servant; it marks out this man and that by good deeds and sins. If then it is a church, do not be indignant that the slave was addressed with you; “for in Christ Jesus there is neither slave nor free.” “Grace to you and peace.” By reminding him of grace, he brought him to the remembrance of his own sins. Consider, he says, how much God has forgiven you, how you were saved by grace; imitate the Master. And he prays for peace for him — rightly. For peace too comes then, when we imitate him, when grace remains. For that slave too, who was merciless to his fellow slave, kept his master's grace as long as he did not demand the hundred denarii; but when he demanded them, it was taken away, and he was handed over to the torturers.

Considering these things, let us too be compassionate and forgiving toward those who sin against us. The hundred denarii here are the sins against us; but those committed by us against God are ten thousand talents. And you know that sins are judged also by the quality of the persons. I mean something like this: he who insulted a private person sinned, but not as much as he who insulted a magistrate; and he who insulted a greater magistrate sinned more than he, and he who insulted a lesser one not as much; and he who insulted the emperor, much more. The insult is the same, but it becomes greater by the eminence of the person. And if one who insults the emperor has an unbearable punishment because of the dignity of the person, for how many talents will one who insults God be liable? So even if we commit against God the same sins as against men, not even so is it equal; but as great as the difference between God and men, so great is the difference between those sins and these. But as it is, I find the sins even greater, made great not only by the eminence of the person but by their very nature. The word I am about to say is dreadful and truly fearful, but it must be said, so that even so it may shake and stir our minds, by showing that we fear men much more than God, and honour men more than God. For consider: the adulterer knows that God sees him, and despises this; but if a man sees him, he restrains his desire. Such a man not only prefers men to God, not only insults God, but, what is much more grievous, because he fears them, he despises God. For if he sees them, he restrains the flame of desire — or rather, what flame? It is not a flame but insolence. For if it were not permitted to have a wife, the thing might rightly be called a flame; but as it is, it is insolence and wantonness; for if he sees men he stops his madness, but he cares less about God's longsuffering. Again, another, the thief, knows that he is plundering, and tries to deceive men, makes his defence to those who accuse him, and dresses up his defence; but God, whom he cannot persuade, he does not heed, nor respect, nor honour. And if the emperor commands us to keep away from others' money, or rather even to give our own, we all readily contribute; but when God commands us not to plunder nor to gather others' goods, we will not bear it. Do you see that we prefer men to God? The word is burdensome and offensive; then show that it is burdensome by fleeing the deed. But if you do not fear the deed, how can I believe you when you say, “We fear your words, and you are heavy on us”? You weigh yourselves down by the deed, and no account is taken of it; but if I speak the words of the things that you do, you are indignant; and how is this not absurd? Would that what I say were false! I would rather incur the reputation of a reviler on that day, as having reviled you idly and in vain, than see you punished for such things. And not only do you yourselves prefer men to God, but you also compel others to. Many have compelled many servants, and children too: some dragged them into marriages against their will, others into absurd services, into foul love, robberies, greed, and violence; so that the charge is double, and they cannot find pardon even from the plea of necessity. For if you yourself do wicked things unwillingly, because of a ruler's command, even so the defence is not at all sufficient; but the sin becomes more grievous when you compel him too to fall into the same things. What pardon could such a man have after that? I said these things not wishing to condemn you, but to show how much we owe to God. For if even by honouring a man equally with God we insult God, much more do we when we prefer men. And if these sins committed against men appear much greater when committed against God, how much more when the sin itself is greater and more grievous in quality? Let someone examine himself, and he will see that he does everything for men's sake. We would be very blessed if we did as much for God's sake as we do for men, for glory and fear and honour from men. If then we are liable for so much, we ought to forgive with all eagerness those who wrong and defraud us, and not bear grudges. For it is a road to the loosing of sins that needs no labours, nor expense of money, nor anything else, but simply the will: you need not set out on a journey, nor go abroad … nor undergo dangers and labours, but only to will. What pardon, tell me, shall we have in things that seem difficult, when we do not do something light, with so much gain and benefit and no labour? Can you not despise money? Can you not spend what you have on those in need? Can you not will something good? Can you not forgive the one who wronged you? For if you were not liable for so much, but God only commanded you to forgive, ought you not to? But as it is, liable for so much, do you not forgive, and that knowing that what is demanded of you is out of what you have from him? If we go to a debtor of ours, he, knowing this, attends us, receives us, honours us, and shows every kindness lavishly, not thereby discharging the loan, but wishing to make us gentle about the demand; but you, owing God so much, and commanded to forgive so that you yourself may receive, do you not forgive? Why, I beg you? Alas! How great a lovingkindness we enjoy! How great a wickedness we show, how great a sleep, how great a sluggishness! How easy virtue is, and how much benefit it has! How laborious vice is! But we flee what is so light and pursue what is heavier than lead. Here there is no need of bodily strength, nor wealth, nor money, nor power, nor friendship, nor anything else; it is enough only to will, and everything is accomplished. Has so-and-so grieved you, insulted you, mocked you? But consider that you too do many such things to others, and to the Master himself, and let it go and forgive. Consider that you say, “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors”; consider that if you do not forgive, you will not be able to say this with confidence; but if you forgive, you demand the thing as a debt, not because of the nature of the thing, but because of the lovingkindness of the giver. And how is it equal, that those who forgive what was done against fellow slaves should receive forgiveness of sins against the Master? Nevertheless we obtain such lovingkindness, since he is rich in mercy and compassion. And to show you that even apart from these things, apart from the forgiveness, you reap gain from forgiving alone, consider how many friends such a man has, how everywhere all recount his praises, saying, “A good man, easily reconciled; he does not know how to bear a grudge; he is struck and at once he is healed.” Who will not pity such a man when he falls into some trouble? Who will not pardon him when he sins? Who will not grant him a favour when he asks on behalf of others? Who will not want to be the friend and slave of so good a soul? Yes, I beg you, let us do everything for this, not toward friends, not toward relatives only, but also toward our servants. “Forbearing threatening,” he says, “knowing that your Master too is in heaven.” If we forgive our neighbours their sins, ours will be forgiven us too; if we give alms, if we are humble; for this too takes away sins. For if the tax collector, merely by saying, “Be merciful to me a sinner,” went down justified, much more will we, if we are humble and contrite, be able to obtain great lovingkindness; if we confess our own sins and condemn ourselves, we will scour away the greater part of the filth. For many are the ways that cleanse. Let us then make war on the devil from every side. I have said nothing difficult, nothing hard: forgive the one who grieved you, pity the one in need, humble your soul; and even if you are a great sinner, you will be able to obtain the kingdom, cleansing away your sins by these means and scouring off the stain. May we all, having cleansed away here all the filth of our sins by confession, obtain there the promised good things in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom to the Father be glory, might, and so on.