To Philemon our beloved brother and fellow worker... and to the church in your house: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Phil. 1-3 ~~ Paul's letter to Philemon was written at the same time as his letter to church at Colossae, and was delivered to Colossae by the same messengers: Tychicus and Onesimus (Colossians 4:7-9).
Phil. 4-10 ~~ Paul does not immediately mention the purpose of the letter, but tries to build rapport as a pastoral and apostolic authority over Philemon as a believer.
Phil. 4-5 ~~ Paul's spirit of thanksgiving arises out of Philemon's love "toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints."
Phil. 6 ~~ Fellowship of Christian faith becomes "effective through the knowledge of every good thing which is in in you for Christ's sake." Fellowship and Christian community is reinforced and made complete not only by recognition of the value of others, but also by the recognition of the value of oneself ("every good thing which is in you")!
Phil. 8-9 ~~ Paul clearly states that he has "enough confidence in Christ" (i.e., enough moral confidence in his beliefs) to demand and order a certain course of action, "yet for love's sake I rather appeal to you." Paul returns to this theme in verses 14 and 21, speaking of his desire that Philemon will obey freely without coercion from a spiritual authority. Paul restates in verse 19 his authority to demand obedience ("you owe to me even your own soul as well").
Phil. 10 ~~ Paul finally comes to the point of this personal letter: "I appeal to you for my child Onesimus." This direct appeal comes only after Paul had build up his own credibility (ethos), and is followed by passages that demonstrate the logic of his request (logos) and that reach out to Philemon's conscience and heart (pathos). Paul was a well-educated Pharisee, who was familiar with the Hellenistic culture. The epistle to Philemon is a clear instance of classical rhetoric as developed by Plato and Aristotle.
Phil. 11 ~~ Paul makes a lighthearted pun on the meaning of Onesimus' name ("useful"). Wordplay was a common feature in classical rhetoric.
Phil. 12-14 ~~ Paul's reasons for sending Onesimus back: "without your consent I did not want to do anything, so that your goodness would not be, in effect, by compulsion but of your own free will." This sounds noble, but is incredibly problematic. Paul is delivering Onesimus, a runaway slave, to the estate of his master Philemon, to face probable execution under Roman law. In sending a fellow Christian to the very teeth of persecution without security and only hope. Paul doesn't even exercise what leverage he has to ensure the safety of Onesimus. Paul expresses only his love for Philemon as reasons for his actions, but if that were the sole consideration for his actions, Paul would have failed to act lovingly towards Onesimus. Onesimus must have been consulted, and must have agreed to return to Philemon; otherwise, Paul's actions are indefensible.
Phil. 15 ~~ Paul contrasts the temporary deprivation of a servant with the eternal gain of a brother. "Perhaps he was for this reason separated from you for a while, that you would have him back forward."
Phil. 16 ~~ Paul requests that Onesimus be accepted back and his offenses forgiven, and that Philemon treat this runaway with all of the consideration and love he would regularly extend to his fellow believers. Paul does not directly request Onesimus' freedom, but only his forgiveness ("no longer as a slave, but more than a slave, a beloved brother.") As with similar passages in Ephesians and other NT epistles, Paul's emphasis is to redeem rather than replace social institutions. Paul addressed the individuals within the system and give them guidance to acting with virtue.
Phil. 17-21 ~~ Paul makes an emotional appeal to Philemon, appealing to feelings of gratitude, honor, and even Philemon's sense of pride.
Phil. 19 ~~ Paul restates his ability to command and demand obedience ("you owe to me even your own self") but appeals not to Philemon's humility but to his gratitude and to his trust ("I will repay it").
Phil. 20-21 ~~ Paul appeals to Philemon's sense of pride, not only in being in a position to "refresh [Paul's] heart in Christ," but also in being entrusted with Paul's confidence that he would exceed every expectation on his virtue. Sins and errors are dangerous in proportion to the value and impact of the virtue or truth they distort. Humans struggle with pride so often because the underlying virtue is so foundational: we were created in the image of God, and shall be raised to glory with Christ.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literature. Show all posts
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Reflections: On Tragedy and Comedy
This is the first of a series of parallel writings to complement my "Contemplations in Theology." These "Reflections" will concern issues that aren't really theological, or are only tangentially related, or are unsuited to any particular point in the discussion.
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In my eighth "Contemplation in Theology", I referenced a broad argument from literary theory.
In "Stranger Than Fiction" (a great movie, especially for English majors), one of the characters playing an English professor says tritely: "If it's a tragedy, you die; if it's a comedy, you get hitched."More broadly, tragedy signifies an end; comedy signifies a new beginning.
Dante's Divine Comedy begins and ends with the same tableau: a man alone, wandering in the woods. Through three volumes and 100 cantos, Dante relates the story of his odyssey through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. He recounts the seven spheres of each, the characters and stories which he finds there, the guides helping him and the angels showing him the path. Yet after a final climactic glimpse of the Presence of God, he returns to the same woods that was his departure point.
If we were to stop at any point in the Comedy, even if it were at the highest level of Heaven or in the midst of glimpsing the Beatific Vision, the odyssey would be incomplete, and the Comedy would be, frankly, tragic. It is only after that glimpse, once that sojourner has gone "There and Back Again," that the entire story dons the mantle of Comedy.
God's experience in the Incarnation was ultimately tragic if viewed from the perspective of His growing ministry and His sudden death. His life can be defined as comedy, broadly construed, if we consider the seeds He planted in his disciples, the rapid growth of the early Church, or (more theologically) the fact that He was resurrected and lives on eternally at the right hand of the Father.
Our lives are tragic is solely taken from the idea that we are mortal, that we will die. The story of civilization is as great a tragedy as ever was writ; for, as Nietzsche writes, by evolution we may reach the pinnacle of human potential, yet one day our sun will dim, the planets melt, and all that will remain is the Twilight of the Gods. There can be no more majestically tragic image that that, the fate of mortal humanity. Yet if man has an immortal soul, then tragedy is transient, and comedy is the fate to which man is called.
Tragedy is essentially defined by ending, by finitude. Comedy is defined by the infinite, the story without end.
Nor is infinite a necessarily progressive idea; Oriental cultures, among others, define infinity not as a straight line without end, but as a circle which doubles back on itself, reinforcing and informing its own past. Memory contains as great a portion of infinity as prophecy; history is as great an adventure as politics; infinity elevates the past, just as much as the future.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
In my eighth "Contemplation in Theology", I referenced a broad argument from literary theory.
In "Stranger Than Fiction" (a great movie, especially for English majors), one of the characters playing an English professor says tritely: "If it's a tragedy, you die; if it's a comedy, you get hitched."More broadly, tragedy signifies an end; comedy signifies a new beginning.
Dante's Divine Comedy begins and ends with the same tableau: a man alone, wandering in the woods. Through three volumes and 100 cantos, Dante relates the story of his odyssey through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. He recounts the seven spheres of each, the characters and stories which he finds there, the guides helping him and the angels showing him the path. Yet after a final climactic glimpse of the Presence of God, he returns to the same woods that was his departure point.
If we were to stop at any point in the Comedy, even if it were at the highest level of Heaven or in the midst of glimpsing the Beatific Vision, the odyssey would be incomplete, and the Comedy would be, frankly, tragic. It is only after that glimpse, once that sojourner has gone "There and Back Again," that the entire story dons the mantle of Comedy.
God's experience in the Incarnation was ultimately tragic if viewed from the perspective of His growing ministry and His sudden death. His life can be defined as comedy, broadly construed, if we consider the seeds He planted in his disciples, the rapid growth of the early Church, or (more theologically) the fact that He was resurrected and lives on eternally at the right hand of the Father.
Our lives are tragic is solely taken from the idea that we are mortal, that we will die. The story of civilization is as great a tragedy as ever was writ; for, as Nietzsche writes, by evolution we may reach the pinnacle of human potential, yet one day our sun will dim, the planets melt, and all that will remain is the Twilight of the Gods. There can be no more majestically tragic image that that, the fate of mortal humanity. Yet if man has an immortal soul, then tragedy is transient, and comedy is the fate to which man is called.
Tragedy is essentially defined by ending, by finitude. Comedy is defined by the infinite, the story without end.
Nor is infinite a necessarily progressive idea; Oriental cultures, among others, define infinity not as a straight line without end, but as a circle which doubles back on itself, reinforcing and informing its own past. Memory contains as great a portion of infinity as prophecy; history is as great an adventure as politics; infinity elevates the past, just as much as the future.
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