Exquisitely brief yet ethically profound, the Epistle to Philemon offers a living portrait of Christian gentleness, social transformation, and apostolic love. This personal letter, penned by Paul on behalf of a runaway slave, reveals how the Gospel undermines oppressive institutions not through revolt but through the patient power of redemptive love. A model of tact and tenderness, it testifies that in Christ, every social barrier is dismantled and every soul elevated to the dignity of spiritual kinship.
Philemon and the Church at Colossae
Philemon, to whom this singular letter is addressed, was a Christian of distinction in Colossae. A convert of Paul and likely a layman of means, he opened his home for the gatherings of the local church, a gesture of hospitality that echoes the fabled kindness of his mythological namesake, the Phrygian peasant Philemon, who—alongside his wife Baucis—welcomed strangers who were in truth gods in disguise. That legendary tale of simple piety and love finds an echo in the Christian Philemon, who is called upon to extend grace not to deities in disguise, but to a repentant slave and fellow believer.
Written at the same time as the Epistle to the Colossians, and delivered by the same hand, this letter may be regarded as its personal postscript. It recommends Onesimus—whose name ironically means “Useful” or “Profitable”—a runaway slave who had likely committed theft in his flight, and by providential design found his way to Paul during the apostle’s Roman imprisonment. There, Onesimus received something far greater than freedom: he was born anew in Christ and transformed from fugitive to faithful.
Paul’s Approach to Slavery
Although the letter is devoid of polemic or overt social instruction, it carries extraordinary ethical and theological weight. Slavery was a dominant institution in the Greco-Roman world, deeply entrenched in both domestic and public life. Philosophy had neither the imagination nor the power to challenge it. But Christianity, though not revolutionary in form, introduced revolutionary substance.
The Gospel’s approach to slavery was indirect yet deeply effective: it taught the equality of all human beings in creation and redemption; it declared the shared brotherhood of believers in Christ, where “there is neither bond nor free” (Gal. 3:28). This inner transformation was destined to unravel the very foundations of slavery over time—not by force, but by love. Paganism and Islam would justify or maintain slavery; Christianity, by contrast, sowed its dissolution in the soul.
Paul does not call for Onesimus’s emancipation by decree, but he does something even more powerful: he sends him back not as property, but as a beloved brother. “Receive him as myself,” Paul pleads (Philem. 16–17). He acknowledges the debt but offers to repay it personally (v. 18), delicately weaving together restitution, reconciliation, and spiritual unity. In doing so, Paul empties slavery of its moral legitimacy while leaving the social form to perish of its own irrelevance.
To the philosopher, Onesimus would have been a “living tool”; to Paul, he is a regenerated soul, a fellow heir of salvation. Thus, the institution remains in outward form, but the Gospel renders it spiritually obsolete.
The Silent Outcome
The New Testament leaves the result of this appeal unrecorded. But given the tone of Paul’s letter and Philemon’s standing as a faithful Christian, it is almost unthinkable that the request was refused. Indeed, the entire spirit of the letter leans toward emancipation—not demanded, but invited by love. Tradition asserts that Onesimus was not only set free, but later served as bishop of Beraea in Macedonia. Other traditions—less reliable—confuse him with later figures, suggesting missionary work in Spain or martyrdom in Rome.
Regardless of the exact historical outcome, what remains certain is that Paul, by personal advocacy and spiritual example, transfigured a story of legal guilt into one of Gospel grace.
Paul’s Character Revealed
The Epistle to Philemon offers a glimpse of Paul the man: wise, affectionate, refined in feeling, and possessed of extraordinary pastoral sensitivity. Though imprisoned and aged, he advocates passionately and tenderly for a slave, presenting Onesimus not as a burden but as his “very heart.” In this letter we encounter Paul not as theologian or missionary, but as Christian gentleman—gracious, persuasive, and noble in spirit.
Comparison with Pliny
Scholars have often compared this letter with one by Pliny the Younger to his friend Sabinianus, appealing on behalf of a runaway slave. Composed nearly a generation later, Pliny’s letter is elegant and humane. It reflects the best instincts of Roman virtue. But the difference between the two is the difference between nature and grace. Pliny appeals to pride and pity; Paul appeals to Christ and the communion of saints. Pliny restores a slave to his master’s service; Paul restores a brother to a brother’s embrace.
“For polished speech,” it has been said, “the Roman may bear the palm; but for nobility of tone and warmth of heart, he falls far short of the imprisoned apostle.”
The Epistle’s Reception and Legacy
The early church, enmeshed in a world where slavery was unquestioned, did not immediately appreciate the epistle’s deeper meaning. In the fourth century, some dismissed it as beneath apostolic dignity. Chrysostom and Jerome offered it apologetically, embarrassed that Paul should care so deeply for a runaway slave. Yet the Reformation brought renewed appreciation. Erasmus declared that Cicero never wrote with greater elegance. Luther admired its Christ-like heart, and Calvin valued its moral power. Modern scholars—Lightfoot, Renan, Meyer, Reuss, Ewald—have extolled it for its literary grace and ethical depth.
Lightfoot called it “an expression of simple dignity, of refined courtesy, of large sympathy, of warm personal affection,” unmatched in ancient literature—even in its stylistic looseness. For all its brevity, the Epistle to Philemon stands as a masterpiece of Christian ethos, an enduring monument to the transforming power of the Gospel.