The Fragrance of Forgiveness

Read Philemon 1:1-25

“I appeal to you, Philemon, to show kindness to my child,
Onesimus…He is no longer your slave, he is your brother.”
(Philemon 1:10,16)

Thoughts… The Apostle Paul wrote this short little letter while under arrest in Rome. Rather than being one of his typical doctrinal treatises, this one is personal. letter. It is to a friend from the city of Colosse, written about the same time Paul wrote a profound doctrinal epistle to the church in that city, the book of Colossians.

Paul’s friend is Philemon, who hosted the church in his home, along with his wife Apphia and their son, Archippus. The letter concerns Philemon’s slave, Onesimus, who apparently stole from his master, which we learn about in verse 18—and then fled to Rome, hoping to blend in with the hundreds of thousands of people who lived there.

But, we see in verse 15, that in the providence of God, Onesimus, the slave of Philemon, met Paul, the slave of Christ, who introduced him to the real Master, Jesus. And this one-time slave became a brother-in-Christ—a spiritual brother to Paul, and as Paul points out in verse 16, a “dear brother” to the man who is rightfully his master.

Now that Onesimus has made things right with God, Paul, as we see in verse 12, is sending him back to Colosse, along with this letter, to make things right with Philemon.

Which brings up an application here that, though not the point of this letter, is very important: We cannot earn salvation, but sometimes the authenticity of our salvation experience requires us to make restitution to those we’ve offended—sometimes! Sometimes that’s not possible—but when it is, God requires us to do our best to make the things right that we’ve done wrong.

That’s why Paul is sending this new convert, Onesimus, back to his master, Philemon.

That’s a spiritual principle that too often gets ignored in this age of “easy believism” and “cheap grace.” But those who treat their Christian faith that way are sadly mistaken!

Paul isn’t letting Onesimus off the hook at Philemon’s expense. There is a price to be paid…and someone’s got to pay it. Legally, Onesimus should pay. Paul hopes Philemon will pay it—not that he has to legally, but spiritually he should. But if he won’t, Paul is willing to make restitution happen at his own expense (verse 18).

So what Paul is asking Philemon to do is huge!

And what he is asking Onesimus to do is huge as well. The death penalty for runaway slaves was not off the table here. Historically, we know that slaves were often crucified as punishment and as a deterrent to other slaves thinking about their freedom. At the very least, the penalty could be a long imprisonment or perhaps physical punishment. When a runaway slave was caught, sometimes an “F” was branded into his forehead—the Latin, “fugitives”, or fugitive. Onesimus had committed by Roman law a felony and had become a fugitive from justice.

I would suggest that here in Philemon—and this is the main thrust of this letter—that Paul reinterprets the “F” to stand for something else: Rather than “fugitives” it stands for “forgiveness.”

That’s the message of Philemon—forgiveness.

What Paul is saying to Philemon, and to you and me, is that if we want to be truly authentic in our faith, if we want to truly be like Jesus, then we’ll have to readily extend forgiveness to those who’ve offended us. Forgiveness is the first step on the pathway to Christ-likeness.

Of all of the human qualities that make us in any sense like God, none is more divine than forgiveness. Why? Precisely because God is a God of forgiveness. In fact, in Exodus 34:6-7, God identifies himself in that way:

“And He passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.”

Moses says to God, “What’s your name?” And God says, “my name is ‘the God of forgiveness.’ That’s who I am.”

God doesn’t forgive grudgingly—just to make himself appear more divine. It is in his nature to forgive! He looks for opportunities to forgive. Micah 7:18 says, “Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives transgressions…? You do not stay angry forever, but delight to show mercy.”

God is a forgiving God and you are to be forgiving person. That’s basic Christianity. You’re never more Christ-like than when you forgive.

Moreover, forgiveness, really, is an indication and an authentication of your faith. The Puritan preacher Thomas Watson wrote, “We need not climb up into heaven to see whether our sins are forgiven. Let us look into our hearts and see if we can forgive others. If we can, we need not doubt that God has forgiven us.”

In Matthew 5:44-45, Jesus said,“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may become the children of your Father in heaven.” (TEV)

That’s how you enter into Christ-likeness: Practice forgiving! I’m never more like God than when I forgive. Why? Because God is never more like God than when he forgives.

Do you really want to be like Christ? Ephesians 4:32 says, “Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you.” That means you treat the person who has hurt you just like you hope God will treat you…just as you would want to be treated by those you’ve hurt. Do it quickly, freely, completely!

Forgiveness is an act of sheer obedience. Notice what Paul says at the end of his appeal in verse 21, “Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask.”

I’ll be the first to admit, forgiveness is probably the toughest of all Christian virtues. It means letting go of what is rightfully yours—justice! When you forgive, in reality, it’s you—the one who is owed, who pays the price of forgiveness in full.

But isn’t that what God did for us? In Christ, the debt was paid for us. This is what theologians call the doctrine of imputation… “to put it on someone else’s account.” When Jesus died on the cross, my sins were put on his account. He was treated the way I should have been treated.

But even more, not only was he my substitute, his guiltlessness became mine. He took my guilt and exchanged it for his righteousness. He said to the Judge, “He no longer owes the debt—I paid it in full. Receive him as you would receive me. He’s family now!”

That’s what the letter of Philemon is reminding us of, that Christ-likeness requires no less of us than what Jesus has done for us!

Missionary Stan Mooneyham tells of walking along a trail in East Africa when he became aware of a delightful odor that filled the air. He looked up in the trees and around at the bushes trying to find what is was.

His African friends told him to look down at the small blue flower growing along the path. Each time they crushed the tiny blossoms under their feet, its sweet perfume was released into the air.

They said, “We call it the forgiveness flower.”

The forgiveness flower doesn’t wait until we ask forgiveness for crushing it. It doesn’t wait for an apology or restitution; it merely lives up to its name and forgives—freely, fully, richly.

Forgiveness is the fragrance of the flower that’s left on the heel of the shoe that crushed it.

I hope you give off that fragrance today!

Prayer… Dear Father, you have freely, unconditionally and completely forgiven me. Now give me the grace to forgive, just as in Christ, you have forgiven me.

One More Thing… “He who cannot forgive others destroys the bridge over which he himself must pass.” —George Herbert