Paul's Letter to Philemon:
The Transforming Power of the Gospel

In the century after Paul’s death, the letters associated with his ministry were collected, published, and circulated among his (and other) churches. There appear to have been two basic collections, “Paul’s Letters to Churches” (which sometimes included Hebrews) and “Paul’s Letters to Individuals,” the focus of this commentary. As we will see, “Letters to Individuals” is something of a misnomer; the addressees were church leaders, but the congregations were included in the message, and they were meant to overhear the communication. The letters were personal, but not private.

As with the larger collection of Paul’s letters to churches, this smaller collection was arranged primarily in order of length rather than chronology. Thus the letter to Titus follows the letters to Timothy in this collection, even though it logically precedes them. Likewise, Philemon—which certainly was written before the Pastoral Epistles (as the letters to Titus and Timothy are collectively known)—was placed at the end of the collection because of its brevity.

In this commentary, rather than following canonical order, we have treated Paul’s letters to individuals in their logical order (which we regard as the chronological order), with Philemon coming first. Next, we have treated the letters to Titus and Timothy in the order of the story they presuppose: Titus, 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy. Below we explain our reasons for this re-ordering of the Pastorals. The commentary on Philemon is meant to stand on its own. The commentaries on the letters to Timothy and Titus stand together as a unified treatment of these three separate but interrelated documents.

Philemon is often overlooked. It is the shortest of Paul’s letters, containing only 335 words in the Greek text, spread over some 25 verses. Due to its brevity, it resides at the end of the Pauline corpus. The story it tells is simple and straightforward: Philemon, a wealthy man from Colossae, became a Christian due to the missionary preaching of the Apostle Paul. After Paul continued on his travels, one of Philemon’s slaves, Onesimus, stole money from Philemon and escaped. In his flight, Onesimus traveled to Rome where—it just so happened—Paul himself had been imprisoned for his missionary work. From his house arrest, Paul won Onesimus to Christ. After Onesimus’s conversion, he worked for a brief time with Paul. Then Paul, expecting to be released from prison, sent Onesimus back to Colossae, to his master Philemon, along with a letter. In this letter, Paul makes three simple requests. First, he asks Philemon not to punish Onesimus for his theft; Paul had grown quite fond of the lad. Second, Paul asks that Philemon release Onesimus, so that the young man can return to Rome and help Paul with his work. Third, Paul informs Philemon that he will visit Philemon in Colossae soon, and requests that Philemon prepare a place for him to stay.

Prima facie, this letter says little of ethical or theological consequence to modern readers. How can the story of an escaped slave returned to his master hold any meaning for believers today? Indeed, its perceived slightness has resulted in sore neglect by the academy (until recently), the pulpit (except in the period leading up to the American Civil War), and the pew. Too often, Philemon has been seen as little more than an irrelevant, non-theological, canonical interloper.

And yet, Philemon has received increasing attention of late, so much so that one scholar suggests that the letter “is receiving more attention today than at any time in the history of biblical interpretation, with the possible exception of the antebellum abolitionist era in the United States” (Osiek 2000, 125; Still 2005). Indeed, in Philemon we encounter a practical working out of Paul’s foundational theological ideas (grace, faith, atonement, reconciliation, freedom in Christ, new creation, and the ethical life that stems from these). Philemon is no less than a case study of the implications of Paul’s gospel. Further, this small, oft-neglected letter is perhaps the most subversive and practically theological document in the entire New Testament!

The Pauline authorship of Philemon has never been seriously questioned. In the mid-second century ce, Marcion regarded it as Pauline and included it in his “canon” (Tertullian, Marc. 5.21; Origen, Hom. Jer. 19; Comm. Matt 33–34). The Muratorian Fragment (late second or early third century ce) states that Paul wrote the letter to Philemon “out of affection and love,” and indicates that the letter was esteemed by the church “for its regulation of ecclesiastical discipline” (Metzger, 305–07). Eusebius lists this letter among the “undisputed” authoritative writings (Hist. Eccl. 3.25). New Testament critics have long agreed that the style and vocabulary are thoroughly Pauline. Indeed, it would be difficult to posit a plausible historical or theological context in which an imitator would compose such a document in Paul’s name (Dunn 1996, 299–300).

Slavery in the first century

Our attempts to understand the letter must begin with an understanding of slavery in the first-century Roman world. Thus a brief overview is necessary.

Slavery was an accepted practice in the Roman world. The economy of that predominantly agrarian society depended on the institution of slavery, and few could imagine a world without it. The Stoic philosophers Seneca (c. 4 bce–ce 65) and Epictetus (c. ce 60–140) denounced slavery, but few voices were raised in protest. Slave revolts aimed at the reform of the institution rather than its abolition (Harrill 2005; Harrill 2003, 575–607).

Roman slavery differed in many ways from the slavery of the American antebellum South. The distinctive nature of Roman slavery can be summarized as follows:

1. Slavery was not based on race or ethnicity.
2. Slavery was an economic issue, not a moral one. Simply put, society “never questioned the morality of enslaving fellow humans . . . ” (Harrill 2005, 585).
3. Slaves were legally property, not persons. As far back as Aristotle, slaves were considered property with souls (Politics 2.1) and “living tools” (Eth. Nic. 8.11).
4. The law allowed owners to mistreat, even kill, their slaves without repercussion.
5. Roman law allowed for slaves to own property such as land, money—and even other slaves!
6. Roman law allowed for the manumission of a slave. By means of a legal fiction involving a third party (usually some sort of priest), a slave could buy his or her freedom. Manumission required the owner’s consent. Once manumitted, a slave became a client of the former owner and could become a Roman citizen (Harrill 1995).
7. Many slaves were freed by their masters before their thirtieth birthdays (Wiedemann 1981, 51).
8. Slaves could work at a number of jobs and tasks, depending on their skills and abilities or the reason for their enslavement. They might be condemned to the Roman mines or the rowing galleys of Roman ships. Or they might be given positions managing lands and properties, or even a high position in government. Still, “[a]lthough there were some opportunities for high status or resistance for a select group of the most resourceful and fortunate slaves, most slaves lived and died under a brutal system that never questioned the morality of enslaving fellow humans and had no abolitionist movement” (Harrill 2003, 585).
9. A runaway slave was given the status “fugitivus.” Runaways were subject to legal action and punishment. The owner of a fugitivus could take out a warrant for the slave’s arrest.