ONESIMUS

ONESIMUS

Colossians 4:7-9; Philemon; 2 Peter 1:5-8

Of all the accounts we have been considering and this is the last, in certain ways there is no more radiant revelation of the power of the great Physician than the one of Onesimus. His name only appears in a reference found in the letter to the Colossians, and the details given in the letter to Philemon. In passing we may say that in the King James' Version the name appears in two other places. It is found in the subscription to each of these two letters. At the close of the letter to the Colossians these words occur:

"Written from Rome to the Colossians by Tychicus and Onesimus."

At the close of the letter to Philemon we find:

"Written from Rome to Philemon by Onesimus a servant."

These are, to say the least, interesting references. The Revisers have omitted these subscriptions from all Paul's letters, because they form no part of the inspired Word. As a matter of fact they are ascribed to Euthalius, and are not to be found in MSS. earlier than those of the Fifth Century. In some cases examination shows that they contradict the contents of the epistle. In others they were evidently true to the facts, as I think they are in the Colossian and Philemon letters. The references, however, add nothing of value to our study of Onesimus.

Let it be remembered that this account of Onesimus has as its background the pagan world, with all its laws and its customs, into which Christ, as the great Physician, was moving out through His new mystical Body, the Church. As we read the letter we notice the scene shifts from Rome to Colosse. If that fact be examined, it will be discovered that the distance which Onesimus had to travel with that letter was close upon a thousand miles. That journey he took in the company of Tychicus. In itself it is a very revealing fact.

In order to an intelligent consideration of the account of Onesimus, it is necessary that we keep in mind the account that lies behind the letter. The certain fact is that he was a fugitive slave, the property of Philemon; he had left his master, and in all probability had robbed him. There is a reference to him, however, the interpretation of which may possibly be open to question. Let me say at once, however, that to me it is a fact that Onesimus was a brother of Philemon. Referring to him Paul said:

"No longer as a servant, but more than a servant, a brother beloved, specially to me, but how much rather to thee, both in the flesh and in the Lord."

It is somewhat interesting to discover how all sorts of expositors seem to be in a difficulty in interpreting the meaning of that reference to him as a brother in the flesh to Philemon. The difficulty evidently consists in the fact that he was certainly a slave, and there seems to be doubt in the mind as to whether a brother could be a slave. Here it is quite necessary that we keep in mind that to which we have already referred, that here the background of everything is the pagan world. In that world slavery was prevalent. In all those cities there were found those who were born in slavery. There were also hundreds of slaves who became such as children, having been sold by their parents into slavery, that they might be freed from responsibility for them. There were also those who became slaves through poverty, and sold themselves. There were debtors who were made slaves. There were those who became slaves through capture in war. There were slaves from piracy and kidnapping. There were slaves as the result of offerings made to the temples. If we take the case of Athens, which then was at the zenith of its fame, Pausanias tells us that it had twenty-one thousand free citizens, ten thousand foreign residents, and four hundred thousand slaves. Now the fact is that blood relatives were sold into slavery. Here, I believe, then, we have a case of a brother who was a derelict, and who had robbed Philemon, and so had been doomed to slavery. From this he had fled, and had put a long distance between himself and Philemon, a thousand miles at least.

In Rome, somehow, he made contact with Paul. Seeing the relation that Paul bore to Colosse and Philemon, it may have been that he had known Paul, and so, perhaps in need, sought him out in Rome, where he was a prisoner. Of these things, of course, we have no definite statement. The one thing certain is that he did make that contact, and through it that he was led to Christ. As Paul says, "I have begotten him in my bonds."

It is also clearly evident that he had stayed with Paul, and had ministered to him in his imprisonment, making things easier for him. .Then there came a day when Tychicus was to take a letter from the apostle to the Church at Colosse. It was then that Paul decided that this man Onesimus must put to the practical test his relationship with Jesus Christ. He must go back to his master. To refer again to the subscription in the Authorized Version, if it is to be trusted, Onesimus wrote it himself at the dictation of Paul. Again we reach the point of certainty when we say that he travelled with Tychicus over the distances until he came to Philemon.

In this little letter we have two remarkable groups of portraits, and in addition, a central portrait. To see the groups we take first the names that we meet with at the beginning of the letter, and then those found at the close thereof. Seven are named as being in Rome: Paul, Timothy, Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke. Three of them are named as being in Colosse: Philemon, Apphia and Archippus; and these are surrounded by a larger and nameless group consisting of the household. At the center of everything is the portrait of Onesimus. The portrait is that of one man, and as a matter of fact, there are two portraits of him. The one is contained in the words, "Who was aforetime unprofitable to thee"; the second in the words, "Now is profitable to thee and to me."

We may omit all the words of those verses except two, which reveal the striking contrast. They are the words "unprofitable" and "profitable." In each case the word presents a picture. By the use of them it was quite evidently Paul's intention to create that very contrast, and to present it to the mind of Philemon.

Imaginatively we can look at the scene when Onesimus arrived, and Philemon saw him, received the parchment, and then read it. It must have been for Onesimus an hour of trial as he came back into the presence of one whom he had wronged. It was equally an hour of trial for Philemon as he looked at the man who had wronged him. Then as he read the letter, these two words must have arrested his attention, the one describing Onesimus as he had been, "unprofitable," and the other describing him as he then was in the view of Paul, "profitable."

Now here we are in the presence of a matter of arresting importance. In making his contrast between the past and the present in the case of Onesimus, he did not do so in the accidentals of material things or in the essentials of spiritual experience, but in the matter of his relationship to his fellow-men.

There can be no doubt that the contrast might have been made in many ways. It is conceivable, and almost inevitable that when, having run away, he reached Rome, he came shortly to the place of hunger and destitution. Now standing before Philemon he was neither hungry nor destitute.

It is equally true that in the old days he had been dead in trespasses and sins, and that now he was alive unto God. Paul, however, did not draw attention to these contrasts. The word "unprofitable" marks relationship to others. So also does the word "profitable." It is in that way that Paul directs the attention of Philemon to the change wrought in this man Onesimus.

This matter is so extreme in this account that we will take time to examine the two pictures before applying the principles. In passing we may note the fact that the man's name, Onesimus, means one who gave pleasure, or gave advantage, and so one who was profitable. However it does not suggest itself to me that when Paul made use of the word "profitable" he was in any sense referring to his name. Let us examine these two words in themselves. The word "unprofitable" is the word achrestos. The word "profitable" is the word euchrestos. In both words there is the root idea found in the word chrestos. In the one case the prefix is a, which is the negative. In the other the prefix is eu which is a superlative. The simple meaning of the root word chrestos is useful. When Paul says that in past days Onesimus was achrestos, the prefix cancels the value of the root idea, and simply means not useful, or of no use. We are further arrested by the fact that when Paul turned to describe his present position, he was not satisfied with dropping the negative, and using the word chrestos, he prefixed it with the eu, which marks completeness, so that now he declared this man was completely useful. It will be seen, therefore, how the words themselves constitute graphic painting, and reveal a striking contrast.

The root idea, then, is that of usefulness. That necessarily involves a sense of inter-relationship, the fact that no man liveth unto himself, an idea of the state in which every man gives and gets; the recognition of the fact that every man is either profitable or unprofitable to his fellow-men. The fact, therefore, that confronts us in the account is that a man's value is not that of his own personal perfection, but that of his usefulness to others.

Norman Macleod once wrote a little book called "Character Sketches." In that he has one entitled "T. T. Fitzroy, Esq." He pictures T. T. Fitzroy from his babyhood, through all his boyhood, surrounded with nurses and tutors and valets, all of them ministering to the needs of T T. Fitzroy! Norman Macleod then describes an old cobbler working as a shoemaker, who has taught a starling to speak. This starling talks as the people pass by and amazingly but definitely cheers the heart of those who hear him. Norman Macleod says that that cobbler making shoes for other men, and that starling, perhaps all unconsciously ministering some cheerfulness to the passer-by are worth more to God and man than T. T. Fitzroy, who has always received, but never given.

We are, therefore, touching here the very central value of Christianity. It is that of being of service to others. I repeat, then, that the contrast created is sharp, decisive, and final. Unprofitable is the highest condemnation of a man. Fully profitable is the highest commendation of a man. The unprofitable man is the man whose motive is selfishness, whose method is robbery. The profitable man is the man whose motive is love, and whose method is service.

The claim for Christ, therefore, made inferentially in this two-fold description, is that He had found him unprofitable, and had made him profitable. He had transformed him from waste into wealth in the interest of the community.

When we ask, as necessarily we are bound to do, how this transformation had been wrought, we find the reply in the words of Paul, "Whom I have begotten in my bonds." It was a great claim, for it is always a great thing when one man can say this about another. Paul certainly considered it of great value, for once when writing to the Corinthians, he said:

"For though ye should have ten thousand tutors in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I begat you through the Gospel."

That tells the secret of the transformation. Christ, the great Physician, had met Onesimus and reconciled him through a member of His mystical Body, and Paul had been the means through whom the contact was made. The fact, however, is that he had been born anew, and in the miracle of that new birth he had been transformed. The evidences of the transformation are discovered in his recognition of responsibility, and his immediate surrender thereto, which things made him willing to travel with Tychicus over a thousand miles, to go back to the man whom he had wronged and robbed. We gather also from the Colossian letter that he was travelling in perfect fellowship with Tychicus, and with the band of Christians surrounding Paul, as Paul described him as "Onesimus the faithful and beloved brother."

Thus as we come to this final article in our series we ask what it really has to say to us. Necessarily it first of all brings us back face to face with the fact of humanity's need of Christ as the great Physician. Humanity as it is self-centered and depraved, is waste. Christ meeting man in that condition creates out of the waste one who becomes wealth in the sense of being a blessing to the community. The account finally reveals the method of Christ, that, namely, of the impartation of new life.

The appalling fact of waste is surely self-evident. The man who hates instead of loves, he who looks upon his brother in contempt, and calls him Raca, or with malicious intent and calls him fool, is waste. According to the teaching of our Lord there is only one fitting place for such a man, and that is Gehenna, the refuse heap consumed by fire. Equally men are waste who are liars, for the man who lives except upon the basis of simple truth is ever robbing the community. The man, too, who is a thief and that not according to our ordinary use of the word, but according to the New Testament. It was Paul who wrote:

"Let him that stole steal no more; but rather let him labor, working with his hands the thing that is good, that he may have whereof to give to him that hath need."

An honest reading of that reveals the conception that any man who is not working is a thief. He is either contributing to the common wealth, or he is robbing the other man. Countries today with their many social programs cause grave and eternal harm to their citizenry.

It is from such attitudes of life that all false social conditions arise, carelessness and cruelty, slander and deceit, coercion and war; and, moreover, any attitude that consents to the victory of wrong on account of cowardice. That is waste.

But this account of Onesimus reveals in microcosmic manner the great and glorious fact that Christ is able to deal with that condition of waste, and to transmute it into that of profit; creating men to whom love is the inspiration of all action, truth the method thereof, and service its expression. In the fellowship of such men we have compassion and care, straightness and security, freedom and peace.

When we question as to how that transformation takes place we face once again the fact already declared, only now we will employ the very words of Christ, "Ye must be born from above." There is no way into new life, there is no way into true value or worth in the community but the way of the new birth, in which the spirit is changed, the mind is renewed, and the whole life, spent in the same circumstances, changes them. It is the old, old account of how the potter takes the marred vessel, and makes it again, so that it passes into the realm of beauty and utility.

Once again the account reveals the fact that our relationship to God creates our values to our fellow-men. The other side of that law is that our value to our fellow-men is the test of our relationship to God. If we are really right with God we shall be profitable men and women to our fellow-men. If, on the other hand, we affirm that we are right with God, and love not our brother, and fail to serve him, and be profitable to him, we lie, and the truth is not in us.

Necessarily the whole significance and beauty of the account of Onesimus is that which we have seen all the way in our study, namely the power of Christ to transmute waste to wealth. The great Physician saw in the waste of the world potential wealth. He still sees it, and is able to take that waste and transmute it into wealth.

It was Luther who said:

"We are all the Lord's Onesimi",

That is, we are all the Lord's profitable servants. Let us never forget that we were all unprofitable. It is the great Physician Who, taking hold upon us in our worthless condition, has made us of use to our fellow-men.

DEMAS AND THE PHYSICIAN

DEMAS

Col. 4:12-14; Philemon 23-24; 2 Tim. 1:5-8

As we have been following our course of articles, watching the great Physician at His work, we have seen some cases in which His healing power was frustrated by certain conditions and attitudes of human life.

In the case of Demas the possibility of relapse after healing by the great Physician is revealed. His name is three times mentioned by Paul and in each case when Paul made the reference to him, he, that is, Paul, was in prison. In the first imprisonment, that during which he wrote his letters to the Colossians, the Ephesians, the Philippians, and Philemon, Demas is seen as one of a faithful group, joining with them and with Paul in the greeting which was sent to the Colossian Church. Moreover, Paul speaks of him at that period as he wrote to Philemon, as "a fellow worker."

In his second imprisonment from which he wrote this letter to Timothy, the last letter from his pen that has been preserved for us, Demas is once more referred to, but as having forsaken Paul and gone to Thessalonica. The reason for his defection is clearly stated:

"Demas forsook me, having loved this present age, and went to Thessalonica."

It is with that account of relapse that we are now concerned. Let us keep in mind—and I want to emphasize this at the very beginning of our study—that of the ultimate history of Demas we have no record. We have no right to say that Demas was ultimately an apostate. It may be true, but to repeat what I have said, we have no knowledge of the matter. That he had been definitely committed to Christ his association with Paul clearly proves, for he was with him during the period of his first imprison­ment in Rome, and as Paul referred to him as one among his fellow-workers, there can be no doubt that he was one whom Christ had met and had healed. Somewhere he had come into contact with the great Physician. We have no means of knowing where. We are not even told his citizenship. The probability is that Christ had reached him through Paul. He had been spiritually healed, and received the gift of life.

Our account, then, is not that of a final apostasy, but it is that of a definite relapse. The whole account of this relapse is contained in the paragraph at the end of this second letter of Paul to Timothy, written at a time when Paul was evidently conscious that everything, on the human level, was closing in around him, and the end was near. His first trial was over, and the second was anticipated. In the Roman legal system the second trial was not for investigation, but for the pronouncement of sentence. Paul knew what that sentence was going to be. In the account there are human touches full of revelation. He felt the cold, and charged Timothy to bring his coat with him. He was evidently, however, mentally alert, for he told Timothy to bring the books with him. That alertness was principally concerned with spiritual things as his words, "especially the parchments" prove. There is a touch of deep tenderness in his reference to his loneliness. A little group had been with him, but they had all gone, some of them on the Master's business. Crescens had passed on into Galatia. Titus had gone to Dalmatia, and Tychicus had been sent elsewhere. He was not absolutely alone, however, as the sentence so full of meaning reveals, "Only Luke is with me." It was in that connection that he referred to one whom he had numbered among his fellow-workers, who had shared in his sufferings and in his service, but of whom he now had to write:

"Demas forsook me, having loved this present age, and went to Thessalonica."

This article, therefore, has in some senses a very special message to those who are followers of the Lord. The possibility of having met the great Physician, of having been brought into living contact with Him, having received from Him the healing of our sin-sick souls, and yet of a relapse, of a going back, of a forsaking of the Lord.

When we take the account as told in that simple sentence by Paul there are three things which are self-evident. The first is that of the alluring forces which had led him astray. They were those of "this present age." We then see the soul of Demas yielding and assenting to the appeal of those forces until, by a decisive act, he chose them, "having loved." Finally, therefore, we have the record of the act, "Demas forsook me." Although we are going to attempt to examine all this carefully, it may be well to briefly epitomize the account once more. Demas had left Paul and gone to Thessalonica. Why? Because the alluring forces of the present age had proved too strong for him. We then ask, why did they prove too strong for him? Paul says the reason was that he had "loved" them. That needs fuller interpretation, to which we are coming back.

What, then, were the forces that lured Demas? And here it is really important that we should correct a possible mis­apprehension of the account as it is revealed in an oft-times mis-quotation thereof. Again and again I have heard the account quoted thus, Demas forsook me, having loved this present evil world. Now Paul did not write that, and there are two things that it is important that we remember. The first is that the word "evil" is not in the statement, and the second is that the word "world" should be rendered "age." If by the use of the word "world" we are led to think of the cosmos on its material side, this is not what proved the alluring force. It was rather the age, and that sounds so harmless, and I think accounts for the popular misquotation. Somewhere, at some point, perhaps a per­fectly sincere soul felt that the account needed the introduction of a word revealing the wrong of it all, and so employed the word evil.

What was it, then, that Paul referred to? The present age, that is, the zeitgeist, the time spirit, the spirit that dominated the age. The phrase of the apostle apparently so innocuous and harmless is in fact an arresting revelation of the reason why so often in Christian life there is relapse. There is something in the time spirit which makes its appeal, and Demas had felt this. He had felt the enticement of its nearness, the enticement of its method, and the enticement of its gifts.

We remind ourselves again that this man had been with Paul in Rome, and there had seen the age in which he was living. He had travelled with Paul almost certainly for a time. In Rome, however, he was in a great city, pulsing and palpitating with its own conceptions and consequent conduct. As Demas observed all this, he felt the enticement of the seen as against the unseen, the tangible as against the intangible, the sensual as against the spiritual, the present as against the future.

In this same letter, just before referring to the case of Demas, Paul had said:

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give to me at that day; and not only to me, but also to all them that have loved His appearing."

Mark the contrast. Paul and those associated with him, and all the followers of Christ were living in the power and passion of the unseen. To them the goal of everything was the appearing of Jesus. They were those who loved that appearing. As a matter of fact there was hardly a beam of light upon the sky in those days which suggested the ultimate victory and appearing of Christ. But these men knew its inevitability, and were sustained by their love of it. Demas had been among their number, but had failed. All around him were the near things, and these were so real, while the unseen were vague. The things occupying the mind of the age were such as could be touched and handled. The things occupying the thought, and creating the inspiration of Paul and those with him could neither be touched nor handled. The near things appealed to sensibility, that is, to the sensuous nature. The other things were spiritual. The things of the age were near. The things which Paul loved appeared to be far in the future. Demas felt the enticement of the near things, the seen, the tangible, and the sensual, the present.

Moreover, he had seen the method of the age in which he lived, and we see it by placing it in contrast with the method of the followers of Christ. The method of the age was that of self-gratification, rather than self-sacrifice, mastery over others instead of service rendered to others, possession here and now instead of the constant necessity for renunciation. These things of the spiritual world were those which Paul had taught, and by which men and women associated with him in loyalty to Christ, were living. Self-denial, self-emptying, self-sacrifice constituted the very heart and soul of Christian experience. Looking round about him Demas saw the contrast. The way of the age was not that of self-sacrifice, but that of self-gratification. It was that of compelling service, rather than that of impelling sacrifice. That was the spirit of the Roman Empire. It still is the spirit of the age. Demas felt the enticement of these methods.

It follows, therefore, necessarily that he was allured by what the present age offered him, wealth, pleasure, liberty, as freedom from all restriction. It was in that atmosphere that Demas had lived.

The question arises as to whether it is necessary to yield to such allurement. The reason is that Demas had done so, and evidently there came a moment when he came to definite decision in the presence of the contrast. This is revealed in Paul's pregnant phrase, "having loved."

It is a remarkable thing that at this point Paul used the highest and most noble word for love. It is a word that describes love not merely as an emotional attraction, but rather as an intellectual, informed decision. Moreover, it was a definite act. Demas did not come to it at once. No man ever does. He had listened to the voices sounding round him, telling him of the apparent liberty of the age, speaking to him of the foolishness of self-sacrifice and self-denial. Having listened to these voices, at last he came to a decision. He fixed his love and affection upon the present age.

In this connection we notice that Paul merely states the fact, and we may ask, quite properly, how it came to pass that Dernas thus succumbed; and a reference to the writings of Peter will help us to find an answer to the question.

"For this very cause adding on your part all diligence, in your faith supply virtue; and in your virtue knowledge; and in your knowledge temperance; and in your temperance patience; and in your patience godliness; and in your godliness love of the brethren; and in your love of the brethren.” Love -

That is unquestionably one of the greatest passages in the New Testament in its unveiling of the development of Christian life.

It begins with faith. It ends with love. Love is the full-orbed result of faith, but there is a process of development from faith to love, and this is what Peter is pointing out in his teaching. The passage may really be likened to a description of the growth and opening out of all the life forces obtained in faith, until the ultimate fruitage is reached in love. In an aside we may say that if this be carefully pondered we may turn from it to Paul's great passage on "the fruit of the Spirit is love," with its analysis of love, which immediately follows. Now we have turned to this teaching in Peter, note that he said immediately afterwards:

"If these things are yours, and abound, they make you to be not idle nor unfruitful unto the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he that lacketh these things is blind, seeing only what is near."

Thus we have revealed the inwardness of the account of the deflection of Demas. The hour had come when he saw only what was near, and the reason was that, in the past, he had neglected to give diligence for the development of his Christian life from its root of faith to its ultimate fruitage of love.

Arrested development always means deterioration. We have met Him, the great Physician. He has healed our sin-sick souls. Then our duty is that of giving diligence to the cultivation of the life resulting from faith until it reaches its ultimate fruitage. If we fail to do that, the result is inevitably that of arrested develop­ment, which ever means deterioration.

It is self-evident, then, that the final assent of the soul marked by the expression, "having loved," followed a period in which Demas had been making his comparisons between the near and the far, between the sensual and spiritual, between the advantages of the immediate, and the apparently questionable nature of the ultimate. He had been considering and as he did so, the distant became more distant. Prayer unquestionably became irksome. The Word of God, and the teaching of the apostles became dull as the near became nearer, more to be desired, and apparently, better; until at last he fastened his affection upon the present age.

The next step was easy, though it was tragic. Paul speaks of it from the personal standpoint as he says, he "forsook me." Whether this forsaking took place during Paul's first imprisonment, or during the interval between the first and the second, we cannot tell. Enough to know that Paul was now in prison for the second time and Demas was not with him. He had left Paul and the experience of prison, and all the difficulties of Christian service. He had departed from fellowship with those like-minded, from Luke who stayed by to the end, as well as from Paul and from all the persecuted saints. He declined their way of life. In thus forsaking Paul and that fellowship he forsook the hope, the love of the appearing of Jesus. This means that he left his Lord.

When a man has taken up that position, and come to that decision, what will he do, where will he go? Of Demas it is written, he went to Thessalonica. Thessalonica was then one of the great cities in the empire. It stood on a hill of beauty, sloping to the sea. It was guarded by mountains on both sides. It was a great commercial center. It was a city of wealth, of luxury, of pleasure, of idolatry. It was the embodiment of the age. Thessalonica is always near at hand for Demas. When he turned his back upon the love of the appearing of Jesus he found himself in a city thus embodying the conceptions and conduct of the age. There we leave the account of the relapse.

It is self-evident that this account makes its appeal to those who have been with Jesus, have had fellowship with His followers, have been workers together with Him; and it compels the asking of certain questions with regard to our own position. These questions may be personal. Where are we now? Are we with Paul, like Luke still standing by, still helping? Then let us see to it that we give diligence to add to our faith all those things that mark its true development, and come at last to the perfect fruitage of love. Do not let us rest satisfied with our present position.

Or are we perhaps even now making a comparison? Has the age been forcing itself upon our attention, this present age? Do we feel the lure of the near, and the apparent advantages of the methods of the age? Perhaps we have not yet come to a definite decision. We have not yet parted company with Paul or Christ, but we are making the comparison. Let us bear in mind, then, that if we are inclined to the decision of Demas, faith is against us, history is against us, science is against us.

That faith is against us goes without argument. It is equally true that history is against us. All those things that have been wrought by men and women down the ages that have been of real value to the world, have been accomplished by those who have believed in the unseen, those who have endured, as seeing Him Who is invisible. It is equally true that science is against us. Science teaches all the things contrary to faith in God and the Word He has left us. Science today works diligently to deny the history and accounts of Genesis by definitely denying the ultimate reality of the mystery that lies behind phenomena we witness and uncover, the reality of the unseen God. Science today is a partner with the thoughts of Satan.

Or have we already made our choice in favor of the present age, and find ourselves in Thessalonica? Have we broken with our Lord? Have we forsaken Paul, leaving the company and the fellowship? If so, the question that forces itself upon us is, are we at rest? Are the near things we are grasping satisfying us? Are there not haunting memories following us? I am putting these things in the form of questions. They might be put in the form of definite affirmations. Demas went to Thessalonica, but he did not get what he went for. No man ever does.

As we close this meditation let us at once say Demas might have come back. Perhaps he did.  Eternal life he possesses is eternal so eventually he will return. The certain thing is that when he did, he was received and restored. That needs no argument.

It may be that someone will say, yes, we believe it to be true that Christ would take us back, but would the group of people whom we left, be willing to receive us? Well in that connection we may say that Paul would. We have a remarkable illustration of that in this very same letter. Writing to Timothy, he said:

"Take Mark, and bring him with thee; for he is useful to me for ministering."

So far as Paul was concerned, Mark was a man who at some point had gone back, with the result that Paul refused to have him associated with him for the time being; but years had passed. Mark had gone on his way with Barnabas, and now toward the end, evidently even from Paul's standpoint, Mark having returned to his loyalty, Paul was eager to receive him. If maybe we are inclined to make the comparison, let us make it beneath the Cross. If we do so, we shall be compelled to exclaim:

"Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small.

Love so amazing, so Divine,

Demands my life, my soul, my all."

AGRIPPA AND THE GREAT PHYSICIAN

AGRIPPA

 Acts 25:13-Acts 26

As we have taken our way through this series of articles one very solemn thing has been occasionally revealed, namely that notwithstanding His almighty skill as a Physician, there were some who came into contact with Him who by reason of their own attitude did not gain His healing power. It would seem that this was so in the case of Agrippa. It is unquestionably a sad account, and we want to endeavor to see it as it is presented to us on the pages of the inspired narrative.

I should like at the very beginning of our article that we enlighten our minds of the false conception, so widespread, that Agrippa nearly became a Christian. This view is based upon an undoubtedly mistaken translation of something he said, to which we shall return now.

Herod Agrippa II, to give him his full title, crosses the page of New Testament history suddenly, and passes away with equal suddenness. He is only seen in his connection with Paul. Here, as in some other cases, we may make reference to certain facts concerning him which are not recorded in Luke's narrative. We find Agrippa both in pagan and Jewish history, and there can be no doubt that he was a very remarkable person. Descriptions of him reveal him as a man of fine physique and of magnificent presence. It is also true that he was a man of wide education, and of great natural ability. Born in A.D. 27, he lived to be 73 years of age, dying in Rome in A.D. 100. He received his education in the palace of the emperor. As a politician, he adopted the cause of the Jews, claiming through the early years that he himself was a Jew. When the Rebellion broke out, as the result of which the Jewish nation fell, he completely joined the Roman power, and fought against the Jews.

His relationship with Bernice was a scandal both to the Jews and to the Gentiles, as the writings of Josephus and Juvenal very clearly show. This, then, is the man as revealed from sources outside the New Testament narrative.

In order to see him as revealed in the narrative of Luke we need to remind ourselves of certain circumstances and events. Felix had left Paul a prisoner. He was succeeded in the Roman governorship by a Roman named Festus. He, desiring to gain favor with the Jews, and at the same time to administer Roman law, found himself placed in a strange dilemma in the case of Paul. While he was facing the situation, Agrippa appeared upon the scene. Whereas he was called a king and Paul addressed him in that way, it is best to remember that it was a title of courtesy. He was in effect, a vassal under Festus, and came to Caesarea to pay his respects to his superior, the Roman governor. Knowing his intimate acquaintance with all Jewish matters, Festus felt he had an opportunity to gain some light on the problem confronting him concerning Paul. Agrippa responded that he was anxious to hear Paul. A formal occasion was arranged.

Now we see him, and his contact with "the Way," that is with Christ, through Paul. We are first arrested by the simple historic statements made in the record concerning him. The narrative tells us that he and Bernice came together to what was certainly a formal and even a pompous occasion, with the military leaders, and others around him. Agrippa and Bernice were central to the group. We may remind ourselves here that he was the great-grandson of the Herod who had murdered the innocents at the birth of Jesus. His great-uncle had murdered John at the request of a dancing wanton. His father had murdered James. That gives us his family background.

When we look at Bernice the whole outlook is full of shame. She was Agrippa's sister, the sister also of Drusilla, who was the wife of Felix. She had been married to her uncle, Herod of Chalcis, until she abandoned him, and consorted with Agrippa. After a while she married Polemo of Sicily, but stayed a very little while with him, and then went back to Agrippa. Finally, she went to Rome with him, and then pagan history tells us that she figured shamefully in the lives of Vespasian and Titus, father and son. That is the woman who was sitting by Agrippa's side. Everyone knew of his incestuous connection with his own sister. He did not attempt to hide it, but flaunted his shame and her shame in the sight of Festus, the whole assembly, and Paul.

The other brief historic revelation is contained in what he said to Festus when told the account of Paul.

"And Agrippa said unto Festus, I also could wish to hear the man myself";

A suggested rendering in the margin of the Revised Version is unquestionably correct and important. What Agrippa really said was, "I was wishing." The very form of the statement reveals the fact that he had some previous interest in, or curiosity concerning Paul. He knew something about him. The probability is that he had never seen him, and was glad of the opportunity offered when Festus told him that he held him as a prisoner. It will be remembered that Paul's presence there was due to the fact that he had used the proper Roman formula, "Ceesarem appello," I appeal unto Caesar. It was a legal formula, and when once a Roman citizen, which Paul was, had employed it, no other tribunal could deal with his case. On the other hand when a governor sent a prisoner to Caesar, it was necessary for him to make a formal charge against him. That was Festus' difficulty. He did not know with what to charge him. The people at whose prompting Paul had been arrested were unable to make a charge of sedition, the whole question being one about their religion, and concerned the declaration that Jesus Who had been put to death, was affirmed to have risen, and to be alive. Festus, knowing Agrippa's knowledge of these turbulent Jews, felt that he might help him in the matter.

It was then that Agrippa said:

"I also was wishing to hear the man myself."

It is, therefore, quite evident that he had some previous knowledge, and now he had his chance of meeting, seeing, and hearing the man himself.

Our next revelation of Agrippa is discovered as we read Paul's address to him. He declared that he was:

"Expert in all the questions and customs which are among the Jews."

Whatever Agrippa knew about Paul, Paul knew this about Agrippa. Paul would not have said this if it had not been true. He was not employing the language of courteous flattery. That is the man that Paul saw.

Later in the same address he said, still concerning Agrippa, "For the king knoweth of these things," and the reference was to all that he had been telling him, that is, the account of Jesus. Paul declared that he was persuaded that none of these things were hidden from Agrippa. Thus he is seen, a man expert in all the questions and customs of the Jews, and a man having knowledge of the Christian movement.

And we have still a further revelation in this address of Paul. Festus had interrupted him, and Paul having replied to the interruption, again addressed himself directly to Agrippa, and he said:

"Believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest."

This is a remarkable addition, showing that Paul saw him not merely as a man clever, expert, learned, highly trained, not merely as having knowledge of the fact of the Christian movement, but familiar with the Hebrew writings, and in some sense believing in the prophets.

To summarize; Agrippa was flagrantly sensuous, a slave to his passions. He had become quite careless about public opinion. Jewish opinion was against him, and so was pagan, but he cared nothing as is evidenced by the fact of his bringing Bernice with him. He was, moreover, a man careful about Roman law, as well as expert in the customs of the Jews. His finding about Paul was strictly accurate.

"This man might have been set at liberty if he had not appealed unto Caesar."

He knew, however, that the appeal to Caesar was irrevocable, and that Paul must be sent to him.

The last revelation of Agrippa found in the narrative is that of a man contemptuously dismissing a possibility. The possibility, to use his own expression, was that of becoming a Christian. We are familiar with the account of that word "Christian." It only occurs three times in the New Testament, and was at first undoubtedly a name applied to the followers of the Way by those who were outsiders. There are those who think it was a term of contempt. Personally I think it meant simply that those so named were recognized as followers of Christ. At any rate Agrippa's use of the term shows that it was a familiar one. He said to Paul quite literally, with a very little are you trying to make me a Christian? There is no doubt that we understand the question if we place emphasis on two words, the words "me" and "Christian." With a very little thou wouldest fain make me a Christian. He accurately interpreted Paul's intention to make him a Christian. He contemptuously referred to the method as of very little value as he said "With a very little." He was dismissing Paul and his arguments as being of little weight with him. The door of opportunity opened in front of him. It had been opened by a man whose mind was equal to Agrippa's intellectually, and indeed greater. The offer grew out of the fact that Paul had shown the relationship between the things of which Agrippa had knowledge, and those customs and prophetic writings of the Hebrew people. He saw that the door was open, but had no desire to enter in. The last thing we see of him, then, is his act in this contemptuous dismissal of opportunity.

So far as Paul was concerned, his method was a serious attempt to gain the soul of Agrippa. As we watch, let us remember that our chief interest is in Christ, as He was dealing with the human soul through His messenger. When Agrippa attempted thus to dismiss Paul and his arguments, Paul had one more method of appeal. As we have seen, he first approached Agrippa with great courtesy by recognizing his expert knowledge of the customs of the Jewish people, of the facts of the Christian Way, and of the prophets. It is important that we keep in mind that this man Paul was equally expert in all these things, and indeed more so than Agrippa. He had been brought up at the feet of Gamaliel, and if any man would be an expert in these matters of Jewish belief and custom, it was such a man as Saul of Tarsus.

Paul, however, saw all these things exposed, illuminated, interpreted in Christ. He had seen the history of the Hebrew people, and all their literature leading to Messiah, and in the light that had shined about him on the road to Damascus he had found that Jesus was that Messiah. There can be no doubt whatever that in all his dealing with Agrippa Paul was utterly desirous of leading him to the point of a like conviction, with his consequent surrender. He was saying as within himself in desire, if this man Agrippa could see these things of which he has expert knowledge, as thus interpreted, illumined, explained, it would be a way for him into life.

There was nothing in his address to Agrippa of the nature of an explanation of the doctrines of the Faith. In all probability by this time he had already written his letter to the Romans, but he did not suggest to Agrippa any of its massive arguments. The interpretation of Salvation is found in that letter, but an intellectual grasp upon its arguments is not the way of Salvation. Therefore Paul did not give him an argumentative statement of the doctrines of the Faith, but rather, gave him a testimony, thus acting as a witness. Agrippa had said, "Thou art permitted to speak for thyself," and Paul evidently fastened upon that permission, and said in effect, I will speak for myself. Leaving out all argument, I will tell you my own account.

This he did in a remarkable way. He first referred to his past as he declared that he was of the strictest sect of the Pharisees. That meant among other things that he claimed to have been trained in a School where most meticulous attention was paid to every detail of ceremonial and ritualistic religion. Referring to his attitude of mind under those conditions he said that the result of that training was that he thought that he ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. It is important to remember that he was never more sincere than when he thought that. Sincerity is not an evidence of accuracy. A man may be very sincere and at fault at the same time. He emphasized the sincerity that had characterized him in that conviction by a declaration that he had put into the business of opposition all the passion of which he had been capable.

He then told the king of what had happened to him on the way to Damascus, of the light that had shined around him of such brilliance as to bring himself and the company travelling with him to their faces on the ground. He then told him how that he had heard a voice which had said to him, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?" and that recognizing the authority of the voice he had asked, "Who art Thou, Lord?" and received the amazing answer, "I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest." What that fact that Jesus was alive and speaking to him had meant to Paul he was telling Agrippa, giving him the opportunity for the same experience. To Paul it had meant the reconstruction of his theology, and a new interpretation of Hebrew history and the Hebrew Scriptures. There had come to him a light which, after two years of consideration under the shadow of Sinai in Arabia, had made it necessary for him to recognize the triviality of even a Divinely ordained ritual when the full spiritual realization had arrived.

In effect, therefore, he said to Agrippa, after that light upon the Damascene road I had to go back to all the things with which I was familiar, back to Moses and his writings, back to the prophets, and I found they were all foretelling the things which now were realized. He then said to Agrippa:

"I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision."

I think the whole emphasis of the declaration, as Paul spoke to Agrippa was on the personal pronoun "I." As though he would say, when conviction came to me, I was obedient. How wilt thou act?

He accompanied the account of his own experience by two final home-thrusts as he addressed the king. The king knoweth, the king believest. It was then the answer came to Paul to which we have already referred. "With but a little persuasion thou wouldest fain make me a Christian."

Then Paul made his final appeal, and there is exquisite beauty in it. He said:

"I would to God that whether with little or with much, not thou only, but also all that hear me this day, might become such as I am, except these bonds."

The sweep of his desire included Bernice, Festus, and those present. I venture to declare that there is nothing in human history more dramatically magnificent than the vision presented to us at this point. Agrippa in his robes of royalty, Bernice bedecked with her jewels, Festus in the scarlet of the Roman governor, the military leaders in their garments of magnificence, as Luke has said, "great pomp." Before them a prisoner, formally arraigned, and therefore wearing chains that marked his position. Yet this prisoner, looking into the faces of these royalties, said that he would to God they were such as he was. There was a royalty, and a dignity, and an august majesty in this outlook upon his position, all Christian experience flaming into a glory that put the tinsel and the gaud of earthly splendor into darkness, and made them even disreputable.

But the final touch is in that little phrase, "except these bonds." There the Christ was speaking in fullness of power through His servant. Paul stood, his wrists and his ankles manacled, and perhaps lifting those manacled hands he declared that whereas he desired that those whom he addressed should be such as he was, he exempted from that desire the chains of his bondage. In that phrase there flashed the very genius, the very spirit, the very heart of Christ. There was a passion to win Agrippa and the rest for the freedom that was his in Christ, and a desire that they might be exempt from the bondage in which he found himself. In effect he said, Agrippa, I would give you my freedom, the franchise of the ages, but not my bonds. I would give you all the joy of my heart, but not my pain. I would wish you to be exempt from suffering. That is Christianity, and with it he flooded the soul of Agrippa.

As we close we ask, where does it all end? We read the account, and it is perfectly clear that Paul's interpretation of the prediction of the past in the sacred writings, and the history of their fulfillment in his own experience, produced for Agrippa a point where he must consent, or definitely refuse.

We ask: was Agrippa convinced? If not, the reason was undoubtedly to be found in the fact that he had not been honest with the logical argument, for it was unanswerable. If he were convinced, still that conviction did not make him a Christian. Being convinced never makes a man a Christian. Conviction must be carried out by submission. So far as we know, Agrippa never submitted. At the moment, and perhaps eventually he was disobedient to the heavenly vision, and therefore, in spite of Christ's activity through His chosen servant Paul to reach the citadel of his soul, and capture it for high things, he said “No.” It is an account of the most solemn import and warning.