When we open Paul’s letter to Philemon, we are holding one of the smallest books of the Bible. Just 25 verses! But, within this brief letter, some of the most important questions of Christian discipleship are pressed upon us.
But before we enter this text, we must be honest: this letter has a troubled history. For centuries, Philemon was used as a weapon to defend slavery. Preachers pointed to Paul sending Onesimus back and claimed it showed the Bible’s approval of slavery. This text was quoted on plantations in America to keep human beings in chains. That is a misuse of Scripture. We must say clearly that the gospel never accepts treating another person as property. To be faithful readers, we must not repeat that mistake.
So what is Paul really doing here? The details are uncertain. Was Onesimus a runaway slave, or was he a literal brother estranged from Philemon by debt or conflict? Scholars differ. But whichever reading one takes, the heart of Paul’s appeal is unmistakable. Paul insists that the relationship between Philemon and Onesimus can no longer remain what it was. He says: “Not now as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved” (Philemon 1:16 KJV).
In Christ, the old categories—slave and master, debtor and creditor, estranged family members—are broken down. The gospel creates a new household, where we are all kin. Paul underscores this again and again: Timothy is his brother (v. 1), Apphia is his sister (v. 2), Philemon is his brother (v. 20), and Onesimus is not only his child in the faith but his very ‘bowels’—his heart (v. 12).
But we also need to notice how costly this is. Philemon must release the power that society gave him. He must lay down pride and privilege to receive Onesimus not as ‘useful property,’ but as a brother. Paul says: ‘Though I might be much bold in Christ to enjoin thee that which is convenient, yet for love’s sake I rather beseech thee’ (vv. 8–9). Paul, in fact, could command, but he chooses not to. Instead, he appeals to love.
Here is where the letter to Philemon connects with Jesus’ teaching in Luke: ‘Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple’ (Luke 14:27). Carrying the cross means surrendering the very things we cling to for security—status, possessions, power. It is counting the cost.
Paul is asking Philemon to carry such a cross. To give up worldly power and embrace Onesimus as family. Onesimus also carries a cross: the risk of returning, of trusting reconciliation rather than flight. And Paul himself, writing from prison, carries the cross of advocating for love while chained for the gospel.
Carrying the cross is never easy. It asks us to let go of resentment, to forgive when we would rather cling to our grudges, to share power when we would rather hold it tightly. But this is not a cross of shame or fear. It is the cross of love. And love is always costly.
Let’s not overlook the emotional weight of this little letter. Paul piles on the language of affection. He calls Philemon ‘dearly beloved’ (v. 1). He rejoices that Philemon’s love has ‘refreshed the bowels of the saints’ (v. 7). He pleads: ‘Receive him as myself’ (v. 17). Again and again, Paul presses not on the law, but on the heart. He does not manipulate with threats or authority; he appeals to the love that flows from Christ.
And that love requires action. For Philemon, it meant reconfiguring his household, upsetting the social order, redefining Onesimus not as property but as kin. For us, it may mean rethinking how we treat those the world labels ‘useless.’ It may mean letting go of our own positions of privilege. It may mean entering into reconciliation that feels too hard.
This is the cross Christ calls us to carry. Jesus says plainly: ‘Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple’ (Luke 14:33). The call is weighty. But it is also the way to life.
For the cross we carry with Christ is not a burden that destroys—it is a burden of love, of service, of sacrifice. It is the weight of reconciliation. And when we shoulder it, we find that it leads to freedom.
Paul ends his plea to Philemon with these words: ‘Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee in the Lord: refresh my bowels in the Lord’ (v. 20). That is the hope—that Philemon will act in love, that reconciliation will prevail, that the cross carried will lead to joy.
So today, let us hear both Paul’s plea and Christ’s call. Let us count the cost of discipleship, not shrinking back from the hard work of reconciliation. And let us carry the cross—the cross of love, the cross of kinship, the cross that makes us brothers and sisters in Christ. Because in carrying that cross, we discover the freedom and joy of resurrection life. Amen.