The Gospel Transforms Lives — Part Two
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The Gospel Transforms Lives — Part Two

 (ID: 3780)

Tucked between the books of Titus and Hebrews in the New Testament, the book of Philemon—a short epistle written by the apostle Paul to a dear brother in the faith—is one of the special treasures of the whole Bible. In this message, Alistair Begg examines the letter’s opening greetings and first sentences, which speak to the depth of Paul’s gratitude and love for Philemon and the gift of mutually shared faith in Christ.

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Sermon Transcript: Print

Well, good morning. And I invite you to turn to Philemon. It is just one page.

Thanks for your patience last evening in the somewhat circuitous introduction to this little letter. I was thinking that the talk last night was a little bit like Christopher Columbus, in the sense that when he set out, he didn’t know where he was going; when he got there, he didn’t know where he was; and when he got back, he didn’t know where he’d been. And so, if you had that sort of strange, uneasy feeling last evening, you weren’t alone. You were not alone.

Well, let me just read the first seven verses:

“Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother,

“To Philemon our beloved fellow worker and Apphia our sister and Archippus our fellow soldier, and the church in your house:

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

“I thank my God always when I remember you in my prayers, because I hear of your love and of the faith that you have toward the Lord Jesus and … all the saints, and I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective for the full knowledge of every good thing that is in us for the sake of Christ. For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.”

And a brief prayer:

We pray earnestly that you will make the Book live to us, O Lord.[1] Illumine our understanding. Illumine the printed page by the Holy Spirit so that we might be just made aware that it is for your voice that we listen; it is your voice through your Word that we need to hear. And so we pray that you will accomplish the purposes that you have planned for us, in us, and through us as the day opens before us as we turn to your Word. And we pray in Christ’s name. Amen.

Well, there’s no doubt that Philemon is one of the special treasures, actually, of the whole of the Bible. Many of the letters are, of course, more studied; they’re better known. But in terms of a personal letter that was clearly going to be given a public reading, it is quite exceptional. You can see that even in our English translation here, just in the space of twenty-five words, we are introduced to what we’ve just been singing about—namely, the work of God’s grace, and his grace not in a generic way but in a very specific way, in the lives of the central characters that we have here: Paul, of course, as we noted last night, as the writer; Philemon, who is the recipient; and this character Onesimus, who is a runaway slave.

I tried last night, in reading it, and then again this morning to do so in such a way that we would be confronted by the depth of feeling, by the sense of fellowship that is before us. It’s really the pulse, if you like, of the tone of this letter. And apart from the unmerited favor of God in the lives of each of these individuals, bringing them from sin to salvation, we wouldn’t even have a letter at all.

Because the characters, again, are so different from one another—the writer, who was once a proud Pharisee; Philemon, who is a prosperous homeowner; and then, essentially, one of the dregs of Roman society. What is it that brings these characters together, apart from the fact that God has laid hold upon them—that they have come to know Jesus, and they have come not only to be loved by God and to love Christ, but they’re learning to love those who are also in Christ? And what Paul has affirmed in his letter to Colossae…

Incidentally, Philemon lived in Colossae. I was listening in, and some of you have recently been to Ephesus, and you know that Colossae’s about a hundred miles inland from Ephesus. And this is where Philemon was. Paul, probably AD 62 or so, was writing this letter and, if so, then from his imprisonment in Rome. And that would put it at the same period of time that he had also written Ephesians and Colossians. And so when you read both Ephesians and Colossians and you add into it Philemon, we ought not to be surprised at all if there is a sense in which we say, “But I think I just picked that up earlier,” or “I have something else in my mind that Paul wrote.” And if we go and look, we’ll discover that it’s there.

I don’t mean to confuse you folks with history, because you really don’t have very much history at all, and… I think this kind fellow who stands up here said, “Begg will stand on some of your toes.” Yeah. Well, you know, I think it was a couple from Alabama that—I might as well pick on you—a couple from Alabama who had, in a trip to the UK, gone to Runnymede, and because they knew that that was where King John had finally, as a result of pressure from the barons, because of the fact that he was overstepping his boundaries—that he had there, at Runnymede, signed the Magna Carta. And the person who was showing the people around this and giving details on it, he said at one point, in a very dramatic way—and he said, “And here, 1215, King John signed the Magna Carta.” And the guy turns to his wife and says, “Y’all, we just missed that by forty-five minutes.” Actually, I think he was from Georgia. I apologize. Now you’re starting to think of Christopher Columbus again, aren’t you?

Well, in mentioning Colossae: What Paul said when he wrote to the Colossians he’s now affirming. His declaration, if you like, in the letter is now dramatized in this little letter. For example, Colossians 3, in J. B. Phillips’s paraphrase: “In this new [self] of God’s design there is no distinction between Greek and Hebrew, Jew or Gentile, foreigner or savage, slave or free man. Christ is all that matters for Christ lives in them all.”[2] Admittedly, that’s Phillips paraphrasing it, but you’re familiar with that passage, I’m sure, from your own reading.

The Gettys, when they took the phrase “beneath the cross of Jesus” and wrote another hymn that begins in the same way, one of the verses in the hymn that they wrote goes as follows:

Beneath the cross of Jesus,
His family is my own,
Once strangers chasing selfish dreams,
Now one through grace alone.
How could I [then] dishonor
The [one] that you have loved?
Beneath the cross of Jesus,
See the children called by God.[3]

And I say to you again that you have in this tiny little moment in time, in this very brief letter, a drama of these very things.

The Senders and the Recipients

The humility of Paul—and “Paul” is the first word in the letter. He introduces himself. He’s no longer parading his credentials. In fact, he identifies himself as a prisoner of the Lord Jesus Christ. If you check, you’ll discover that there is no other letter in which he identifies himself in his introduction in this way.

Calvin says that the chains that were presumably on his hands as he penned this letter—his chains were “the ornaments [and] badges of the commission he exercised on … behalf [of Christ].”[4] Far from these things being a detriment to the work of God in him and through him, they were actually vitally important. And indeed, it was going to be very hard for somebody to receive a letter like this, recognizing the one from whom it comes and the context out of which it comes, and do anything other than accede to the request—which, of course, we’ll see.

You find the same thing, incidentally, at the end of Galatians, where, after Paul has written about the nature of freedom in Christ and he has urged upon the readers of the letter, he finally ends by saying (and this is my own paraphrase now), “Now, I don’t really want to have any trouble from any one of you, because…” Do you know what he then says? He doesn’t say, “Because I am a mighty apostle.” No, he says, “Because I bear in my body the marks of Jesus Christ.”[5] In other words, his appeal to them is not on the strength of his position, except the position as a servant of Christ. Physically, he was at the mercy of Rome, but in reality, he was the prisoner of Christ.

It’s a very interesting beginning. It’s a very skillful letter, this. Those of you who are lawyers will recognize the way in which, in classical form, he builds his case. He goes a long way in this letter before he actually tells him what he’s on about. But it’s really quite fantastic, because the letter is about reconciliation, it’s about freedom, it’s about enslavement, it’s about being in bondage, it’s about being set free, and so on. And so, you will discover very quickly that he’s honest, he’s tactful, and he’s skillful in his approach. One of the commentators says, “How could Philemon resist an appeal which was penned within prison walls by a manacled hand?”[6]

Now, you will notice that Timothy is with him in this greeting: “Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother.” But Paul is clearly the primary letter writer. And the letter is almost entirely in the singular—not exclusively in the singular, but from verse 4 to verse 21 it is. In verse 3, the “you” there—“Grace to you”—is plural, and it becomes plural again in his final reference in 22 and so on. But all of the rest of it is directed to Philemon.

Now:

Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus, … Timothy our brother,

To Philemon…

Who is this person? Well, he’s “our beloved.” “Beloved.” The word in Greek is agapētos. He is “beloved.” He is beloved as a “fellow worker.” The word there in Greek, again, is synergos, which gives us our word—English word—synergy. And so he says, “Now, you, Philemon—you are just a fantastic fellow. After all, we know you as the beloved one. We know you as a partner in the gospel. I’m writing to you on the strength of your friendship and on the strength of your partnership.”

Now, there’s nothing duplicitous about what Paul is doing here. This is entirely honest. But I want you to notice how amazingly tactful it is. Because he’s going to appeal to him on the basis of the very things that he assures him of: “You are the beloved one. You are the partner one.” It’s as if he says, “Now, I want you to keep that in your mind as this letter goes on.”

Because it is clear—if we can fast-forward for a moment just to verse 19—it’s clear that Philemon owed his Christian life to Paul. So, I mean, he’s got some leverage, if you like. Again Calvin: “Since a soul is made regenerate by faith, and since faith comes [by] hearing …, he who ministers doctrine plays the part of a father.”[7] That’s good! If faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, and it is the Word of God that does the work of God in people, then what of the voice? Whether it is squeaky voice or a good voice or a deep voice or any kind of voice, what kind of instrument—does it really, really matter? Because it is the voice of God that sounds out from the Scriptures. And the pastor is a servant of the Word. Is a servant of the Word.

All these beautiful meals that they do here—we only see them when they arrive. But we don’t see what’s going on before they arrive unless we have a part in it. And most of us don’t on an occasion like this. But all of that has gone on behind in order that the presentation can be there. That’s why, incidentally, when you go home, make sure you pray for your pastor. Remember to pray for him in preparation for teaching the Bible, while he’s teaching the Bible, after he’s taught the Bible. Spurgeon told his congregation at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, “I can preach the same sermons, but if you will pray for me, the outcome will be vastly different.” You get a sense of that here with Paul to Philemon.

It is the voice of God that sounds out from the Scriptures. And the pastor is a servant of the Word.

Now, I don’t know if your brain works at all like mine. I should say I hope it doesn’t. But we don’t know in what context Philemon actually came to faith. We can imagine that it was perhaps on a business trip when he went to Ephesus. And while he was present in Ephesus, he realized in the afternoon hours, when most people were taking a siesta, that there were crowds of people all heading in one direction. Intrigued, perhaps, by that, he found himself in the lecture hall of Tyrannus,[8] listening to this little Jewish man who was now proclaiming Jesus. I don’t know if that was what happened. But somewhere there, he heard the gospel.

Did he come home and tell his wife, Apphia, about that, in the way, for example, that Andrew, when he was called by Jesus… I love it in the Gospels: It says, “And he went immediately and found his brother Peter, and he told him.”[9] Well, it would be hard to imagine that such an encounter took place for Philemon if he didn’t come back from the trip and his wife said, “Tell me everything that happened.” And he said, “Well, there was a lot that happened, but the most important thing is this.” Andrew told Peter, “We have found the Messiah.”[10]

And Archippus, who is a “fellow soldier”—is Archippus their son? I don’t know. But it would be nice to think so: to have a wife who’s a sister and a son who’s Christ’s soldier. What a family gathering that is! How wonderful!

We marvel on days like this, don’t we, at the grace and mercy of God? Just mentioning history a little bit: One of my fondest trips as a boy was to go to Stirling Castle. If you’ve gone to Scotland, you probably have gone there to the Wallace Monument—“March back to England!” And there, when I was a boy in the ’50s, they still had a regiment of soldiers in Stirling Castle. And at a certain time in the morning, they came out and went on parade in the castle esplanade. And the cobbled driveway that runs up there alongside the esplanade is where you could either park or stand, and out they would come and march. And so I would march. I don’t know if I was precocious. I hope I wasn’t. But they marched, and I marched. I marched alongside them up to the end, and they’d turn around, and I came back down. And then, in Sunday school, we sang what you sang:

I’m too young to march with the infantry,
Ride with the cavalry,
Shoot with the artillery;
I’m too young to zoom o’er the enemy,
But I’m in the Lord’s army.

And you know, by grace, I was in the Lord’s army, even as a boy. Still marching. That’s why you’re here: You’re still marching, still flying, still going, reading this letter, thinking ourselves way back into the first century AD and imagining what it was like when they had their Bible study fellowship in their house.

The Greeting

Well, those are the recipients. And then, in verse 3, you have the greeting: “Grace to you and peace.” Charis and eirēnē—two lovely names. Every so often you meet an Irene and a Charis. But charis and eirēnē are just standard greetings, the greeting in both Greek and in Hebrew. “Grace to you”—the grace that has brought you into a saving knowledge of God and the peace that flows from a saving knowledge of God as a result of his kindness to you.

And here, in verse 3, as I say, it is plural, as in verses 22 and in 25. Now, the reason I point this out is because, as with most of these letters, when they are directed in a certain way, although they would be read initially by the initial recipient, we’ve got to imagine that they were read out loud to the gathering that was present. And so it is a personal letter but is to be read in the context of the larger gathering. And so, in verses 4–7, he proceeds to encourage Philemon by letting him know a number of things.

First of all, he says, “I’m thankful, and I’m prayerful, and I’m joyful.” Well, that’s wonderful, isn’t it? It’s better than a lot of ways you could start your letter: “I thank my God always when [I remember you.] I remember you in my prayers, because I hear of your love and of the faith that you have toward[s] the Lord Jesus and … all the saints. [That fills me with joy.]” “Fills me with joy.”

Now, it’s good to always discover that what somebody says and what he does, or what she says and what she does, match up—so, for example, if I were to tell you about something, and then you were to be in my personal company afterwards, and you said, “Well, those things don’t match up at all.”

Well, why am I mentioning this? Well, because what he does here in writing is what he actually exhorts the church in Thessalonica to do in 1 Thessalonians chapter 5, where he says to them, “[Now listen,] be joyful always; pray continually; [and] give thanks in all circumstances.”[11] That is all directive. That’s what he’s saying: “Come on, now! This is the way you should be.” “Oh,” you say, “well, I wonder if that’s true of Paul himself.” Well, here you have the answer. The very things he urges upon others is displayed in his life.

“I thank … God always.” “Every time your name comes up in my prayers, I say, ‘Oh, thank you, Lord!’” That’s good, isn’t it? That’s very good! Because there are a lot of names come up in my prayers, and that’s not what I say. But maybe that’s just me. But “Every time I think about you, Philemon, I thank God for you, because of the grace of God in you, to you, and through you.”

And that’s the source of our thanksgiving for one another. We’re not thankful for one another because of the brightest people in the group, the best people in the group—they never forget our birthdays. We’re all rotten sinners from the beginning of the day to the end of the day, caught up in Christ. And therefore, the source of our thankfulness and our joy ought to be directly grace-driven. Otherwise, we can become some of the most miserable customers you’ve ever met in your life.

There’s no selfish preoccupation here on the part of Paul, is there? Despite his unfavorable circumstances! I don’t know, but if I was writing this, my letter would be like… I don’t know if I would say, “I’m thankful. I’m joyful. I’m prayerful.” It would be like “Can somebody come and get me out of this place? Because I’m an apostle, and I don’t like it in here, and I’m getting fed up with everything, and the meals are lousy, and these things are hurting my wrists,” and so on. “Your friend, Paul.”

But you remember when he writes to the Philippians, he says, “You shouldn’t really be too worried about me, because the things that have happened to me have fallen out for the furtherance of the gospel.”[12] You see, because when the gospel is our orientation, then, even though things may be against us, different from the way we want them, we can rejoice that God’s Word will prevail. And Paul is a wonderful illustration of this.

Now, the reason for this thankfulness, joyfulness, prayerfulness is found in the news that has reached him. And there you have it: because of the love and faith. “I[’ve] heard how you love and trust both the Lord Jesus himself and those who believe in him.”[13] Or Peterson, in The Message: “I keep hearing of the love and faith you have for the Master Jesus, which brims over to other [Christians].”[14] And that’s a lovely picture as well, isn’t it?

When the gospel is our orientation, then, even though things may be against us, different from the way we want them, we can rejoice that God’s Word will prevail.

Now, in verse 6, Paul proceeds to tell him that when he says his prayers, he specifically asks. There he goes: “And I pray that the sharing of your faith may become effective for the full knowledge of every good thing that is in us for the sake of Christ.”

Now, let me tell you something: that this sixth verse—the meaning of just about every word in this verse is difficult. This verse is actually one of the more difficult verses in the whole of the New Testament. And what he is actually urging upon the readers who are in the hearing of this letter is that they might have a full knowledge of every good thing that is in us eis Christon, “for the sake of Christ,” for the service of Christ.

Now, let me just pause and acknowledge: Years ago now, in seeking to encourage our people in personal evangelism, I used this sixth verse in order to challenge and encourage them in that way. And at that time, I was using the NIV. And in fairness to me, I went with the NIV only really to discover that the NIV, in seeking to help us all along, did a little bit too much helping. Because if you have an NIV in front of you, you will notice that it says, “I pray that you may be active in sharing your faith.”[15] Okay? So what do you think when you say, “I pray I’ll be active in sharing my faith”? You say, “Well, I’m supposed to share my faith with people, like when I meet them in the bus stop or whatever else it might be”—which is, of course, the facts. The whole commission of Christ to his church is that we would be active in sharing our faith.[16]

You say, “Well, then what was wrong with that?” Well, because that’s not what, actually, Paul is saying when he says this. Here’s Phillips: “that those who share your faith may also share your knowledge of all the good things that believing in [Christ] Jesus … can mean to us.”[17] You see, the NIV is pushing us in the direction of sharing our faith with somebody who doesn’t have faith. And that is important. But the idea here is the mutuality of faith. It is the participation in a shared faith. He’s saying, “It’s very, very important that you folks are delving deep into a knowledge of the reality of all that is yours in Christ.” It’s sharing in faith, not the sharing of faith.

Now, of course we share our faith. But here… And this is where the ESV has helped us: “And I pray that the sharing of your faith”—with one another—“may become effective for the full knowledge of every good thing that is in us for the sake of Christ.” Now, if you think about it, that is in keeping with the rest of the letter. Paul, Onesimus, Philemon, and the church in the house are bound together in a mutual bond—and such a mutual bond that makes our much-prized individualism look very shallow. Our relationship with Christ is a personal relationship, but it’s not a private relationship. There’s no solo flying to heaven. It’s all formation flying, and under the direction of the lead pilot.

Are you following with me on this? I hope so, ’cause I don’t mean to make trouble where there isn’t any trouble. I could just have done the NIV thing, and most of you would have nodded your heads.

Let’s try it one more time. A paraphrase: “I’m praying that the mutual participation which is proper to the Christian faith you hold may have its full effect in your realization of every good thing God wants to accomplish in us to lead us into the fullness of the fellowship that is of Christ.” I’ll leave it to you for your homework from there.

Our relationship with Christ is a personal relationship, but it’s not a private relationship. There’s no solo flying to heaven.

That brings us to verse 7, and it brings us closer to coffee, I hope. So, in verse 7, the whole passage is—we could have called this study “In Terms of Endearment,” because the whole passage is in terms of endearment. And so verse 7 gives a further word of encouragement: “I[’ve] derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, [for you have refreshed] the hearts of the saints.” Or, if you like: “The hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.”

I don’t know what the candy is called here; they’re called Refreshers at home. I’m sure America created them and then sent them to us. We’ve sent things over here only to be monetarized and improved—I think in every case, starting with the telephone. But anyway… Anyway, Refreshers: You’ve got a yellow one, a blue one, and whatever color they are. And what they do is when you put one in your mouth, it goes like …. Like that. It’s like …. It’s good, you know. It’s not like one of those toffees that are sort of like… But this is like …. It gives you just a little bit of a jazz, just like …. Right?

And so that is what Philemon apparently had a capacity to do. He was able to refresh the hearts of the saints. It wasn’t because of Philemon, his personality. It’s because he was filled with the love of Christ. He was identified with the body of Christ. He was entering into the joys and sorrows, so that to find ourselves in Philemon’s company would be energizing rather than enervating. In other words… What is that donkey called in Winnie-the-Pooh? Eeyore? Yeah. Yeah, he’s the antithesis of Eeyore. He’s, uh… I don’t know who he is, but he’s not Eeyore. We know that. Some of us have a sort of “Eeyoredic” tendency.

“So how are you?”

“Oh, not so bad.”

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you. Excuse me. I just got to get something.” Yeah.

Well, I’m just going to stop here. I’ve said all that I can say of this. I’m tempted to go to verse 8. But let’s just remind ourselves of what we’re discovering: that God is the God of succeeding generations. He’s the God of differing personalities. He’s the God who takes even the commonplace events of life and quickens us in them and through them so that all of our days and all of our deeds might be good for someone, might be good for something—that there are no incidentals, really.

Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go,
My daily labor to pursue,
Thee, only thee, resolved to know
In all I think or speak or do.[18]

And we have only a short runway in front of us. Therefore, what a tragedy it would be to be anything other than thankful, joyful, and prayerful!

Let us pray:

Just in a moment of silence, we receive your Word. Gracious God, thank you for the Bible. Thank you for the work of the Holy Spirit to bring home to our hearts and minds things that haven’t even come out of my lips because it’s actually for the voice of Jesus that we listen. Bless us this day, we pray—our loved ones where they are, the burdens that we offload from ourselves and cast our cares upon you.[19] We pray that you would help us as we walk out and into the balance of the day not to pick them back up again and seek to struggle our way towards the finishing line. Thank you for each other. Thank you for this lovely place. Thank you for all the benefits we enjoy. And we pray humbly in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[1] R. Hudson Pope, “Make the Book Live to Me.”

[2] Colossians 3:10–11 (Phillips).

[3] Keith Getty and Kristyn Getty, “Beneath the Cross” (2005).

[4] John Calvin, The Second Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians and the Epistles to Timothy, Titus and Philemon, trans. T. A. Smail, ed. David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance, Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964), 393.

[5] Galatians 6:17 (paraphrased).

[6] J. B. Lightfoot, St. Paul’s Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon (London: Macmillan, 1875), 399.

[7] Calvin, Second Epistle, 397.

[8] See Acts 19:9.

[9] John 1:41 (paraphrased).

[10] John 1:41 (ESV).

[11] 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 (NIV 1984).

[12] Philippians 1:12 (paraphrased).

[13] Philemon 5 (Phillips).

[14] Philemon 5 (MSG).

[15] Philemon 6 (NIV 1984).

[16] See Matthew 28:18–20.

[17] Philemon 6 (Phillips).

[18] Charles Wesley, “Forth in Thy Name, O Lord” (1749).

[19] See 1 Peter 5:6–7.

Copyright © 2026, Alistair Begg. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations for sermons preached on or after November 6, 2011 are taken from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

For sermons preached before November 6, 2011, unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® (NIV®), copyright © 1973 1978 1984 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Alistair Begg
Alistair Begg is the Bible teacher on Truth For Life, which is heard on the radio and online around the world.