“Of Your Own Accord”

Sunday, August 23, 2020

The New Testament talks about submission, obedience, and conformity to a standard that has been imposed from above.  Jesus is the king of creation, and he is currently putting “all his enemies under his feet” (1Co 15.25).  Yet, in the present time, he doesn’t compel you to do anything.  Contrast the old covenant, in which “anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses” (He 10.28).  That is in line with the rest of the world through history, in which cultural norms were, and often still are, strictly enforced in order to keep people in line and keep bad, or even just different things from happening.  This is considered a success, and why shouldn’t it be?  The goal was preservation of custom, tradition, and the integrity of society, and in that case, it has been achieved.

Something…different

That’s not the way Jesus treats his subjects.  To be clear, it’s not as if he has no expectations.  In fact, he promises very clearly to pass judgment, and is described as being “ready to judge the living and the dead” (1Pe 4.5).  A time will come when choice is taken out of the equation, and then “at the name of Jesus every knee [shall] bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Php 2.10-11).  In order for it to be universal, and also to include both the living and the dead, it’s clear that on that day, there will be no more room to choose rebellion.

Yet, what will be the result?  Will everyone who confesses Jesus as Lord on that day be ushered into glory?  Of course not—Jesus tells us that on that day he will say to some, “Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Mt 25.41).  But they obeyed!  They knelt and confessed!  Why are they still to be punished?  Because they didn’t do it willingly, when they were offered the choice.

Paul gives us a lesson in the value of choice in his short letter to a Christian named Philemon.  This was a wealthy man, host to the local church and also the master of at least one slave.  His slave, Onesimus, ran away from him and crossed paths with Paul, as a result of which he became a Christian.  After a time spent working alongside Onesimus, Paul decided it was time to send him back to his master.  Consider the way Paul approaches the conversation with the man against whom Onesimus had sinned:

Accordingly, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do what is required, yet for love's sake I prefer to appeal to you—I, Paul, an old man and now a prisoner also for Christ Jesus—I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment. (Philemon 8-10)

He goes on to imply that he’d love to have Onesimus’ services back at his disposal, but chose to send him home, because “I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord” (Phm 14).  He’s hinting that it would be good for Philemon to send Onesimus right back to Paul, but won’t even directly request it.  Why?  Because good deeds done of Philemon’s own accord are better than those done under compulsion.  It’s only after all of this that he gets to his actual request in v17, “if you consider me your partner, receive him as you would receive me.”  He’s alluding to the fact that Philemon has good reason to be very angry with Onesimus, to treat him badly, and to never again trust him.  Yet, how much better would it be, if he could instead forgive Onesimus, and “have him back forever, no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother” (vv15-16)?  That’s a pretty tall order, and although Paul could have termed it that way, he instead put his effort into demonstrating it was not an order at all.  He leaves the choice up to Philemon.  There’s still a right and a wrong, a course that pleases God and a course that displeases him; but it’s much more meaningful, if Philemon chooses the better path when both were available, than if he goes along simply because he has no real choice in the matter.

Paul is sure Philemon will make the better choice, saying “Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say” (v21).  The very fact that Philemon saved the letter and shared it with other Christians suggests strongly that he complied.  While it’s obvious this is a better ending than if Philemon had rejected the appeal, it should also be clear by now that the way things turned out is actually better than if Paul had simply ordered him to take back his slave and treat him well.  In that case, would Philemon have really done anything good?  He’d likely have a terrible attitude about it, harboring a bitterness in his heart that would harm his relationship to both men.  If that had been the case, Paul would have brought about a desirable short-term end, but resorted to the notion he elsewhere rejects, “let us do evil, that good may come” (Ro 3.8), to say nothing of the long-term consequences.  If that had been the case, Onesimus wouldn’t feel gratitude or motivation to behave better in the future; instead, he’d feel entitled to others’ help in getting away with insubordination.  Is that good?

If we serve in the church, we ought to do it “not under compulsion, but willingly” (1Pe 5.2).  We are to give “not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2Co 9.7).  This should extend to the rest of our obedience to God.  Compliance because you have no other choice is not good.  Deliberately surrendering your will, actively choosing the good and rejecting the evil when both options are available, and especially going above and beyond in the way Paul expected Philemon to do, are not the sort of things that just anyone would do.  For that, you need Jesus.  Not only does he provide us the best example of this selfless behavior, but it’s also the appeal he makes to each one of us: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mt 16.24).  It’s not that a cross is laid on your back.  You must pick it up, willingly.

Jeremy Nettles

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