Thursday, 30 April 2020

The Explosive Power of Forgiveness (Philemon 1-25)



The explosive power of forgiveness; It’s awesome enough to soften an assassin's heart and dismantle global slavery…

It is May 1981. 4 shots are fired in quick succession at Pope John Paul II. Two bullets lodge in his lower intestine, one hits his left hand and the other his right arm. The Pope is badly wounded and is bleeding heavily. John Paul's general health was never the same again

The gunman, 27-year-old Mehmet Ali Ağca, is caught, tried, found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment. But John Paul asks people to pray for his would-be assassin describing him as “my brother Ağca, whom I have sincerely forgiven.”

Two years later, the Pope visits Ağca in prison, takes him by the hand and says to his face that he has forgiven him for what he did (though Ağca has shown no sign of remorse).

Over the years, John Paul becomes a friend to Ağca’s family. In June 2000, at the Pope’s request, Ağca is given a presidential pardon.

In February 2005 Ağca sends a letter to the Pope wishing him well. When the Pope dies two months later, Ağca’s brother Adrian gives an interview saying that Ağca and his family are in mourning and that the Pope had been a great friend to them.

Was the Pope naive? Should he have waited for Mehmet Ali Ağca to show some remorse? Or is this a testimony to the power and authenticity of the gospel?

I've been reading the letter to Philemon. It’s one of four New Testament letters written to individuals rather than churches. I say letter; in fact, Philemon is only 25 verses; more of a postcard really!

It's written by Paul, to a wealthy Christian landowner called Philemon, and it’s a real-life Prodigal Son story.

It's about a slave called Onesimus which means “useful”. Maybe today he’d be called Andy because he was quite ‘andy to have around.

Well, he turned out to be pretty useless. He ran away and made for the bright lights of Rome, where he would have the best chance of blending in with the crowd and escaping efforts to track him down.

While he was in Rome, we don’t know how, but in the providence of God, he ran into Paul who was there at that time under house arrest awaiting trial.

What are the odds!? Actually, it was not chance, or fate or coincidence or anything of the sort. It was a “God-incidence.” Because that unlikely encounter is what led to this young man becoming a Christian.

Paul told Onesimus he should put everything right and return to his master Philemon and face the music. He said, “You’d never believe this, but I actually know your former master. He’s a Christian too. I’ll put in a good word for you.” And this is the covering letter.

Slavery was very common in the Roman Empire. About one in three people, 60 million in all, were slaves. That’s about the entire population of the UK today. Rome was built on slavery and it was into this cruel world that Christianity burst onto the scene. Eventually, of course, Christianity will lead the campaign to abolish the slave trade.

Anyway, each of the three main characters in this letter has to make a brave decision.

Paul, the writer, has to let his new ‘son’ in the faith go. That will have been a wrench for him, facing trial, his life in the balance. This lazy runaway thief has become a friend and a brother, a great help and encouragement. But Paul says, “You must go back, it’s the right thing to do.”

Onesimus too has to do something really difficult. He has to bite the bullet, go home and say sorry. The usual punishment for a runaway slave was to have the letter “F” (for fugitive) branded his forehead to show everyone who he was, should he ever dare to abscond again.

And it's hard for Philemon to receive him back too. He has been badly let down and publicly humiliated. Onesimus has betrayed his trust. To let him off might show him up as a soft touch and encourage others to try their luck. But Paul is urging him to forgive him, and treat him not as a slave but as a brother - as his equal. That is like putting a ton of dynamite into the great cliff face of slavery and lighting a long fuse.

Paul, of course, knows all about forgiveness. We first meet him in Acts 7 as Saul: a harsh, violent young man breathing out threats, spitting abuse.

But he meets Jesus on the Road to Damascus and amazing grace softens his heart. He never forgot how much God had forgiven him. Even in his very last letter, he called himself the worst of sinners.

How did it work out for this runaway slave? We don’t know. The Bible doesn’t say - but I think it is extremely likely that Philemon did take him back, forgive him, and restore him.

If he refused, if he punished Onesimus severely, how would this personal letter have found its way into our Bibles? If he refused, Philemon would have torn the letter up and thrown it in the bin and we would never have heard about it.

And we do know that about 20 years later the church at Colossae (near where Philemon lived) appointed a Bishop by the name of… Onesimus. It may well be the same man; it was not a common name after all. What about that! A forgiven runaway slave who became a trusted church leader.

Does forgiveness work? I’ll leave the last word to Mehmet Ali Ağca, forgiven by Pope John Paul.

“After John Paul II visited me in prison,” he said, “I thought about it, and I studied the gospel at length. I know the sacred books better than many others.” Years later, he converted to Christ.


Brief online talk, 30 April 2020





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