Useless Onesimus

“Perhaps the reason Onesimus was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back forever—no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother… So if you consider me a partner, welcome him as you would welcome me.”
Philemon 15-17

Dear Friends,

I love collecting information, learning and listening and staying curious to all there is to know—specifically the interaction and convergence of God and community. I hope to never allow fear to limit me from exploring, plumbing and navigating expansive spiritual wonder with Christ. I am an open and vulnerable person, rarely protective of my own story and experience because it’s there in the vulnerable spaces I can be known and can know others. However, I also love being right and often believe I am right. My pride, competition, and control argues against my open and curious spirit, which often has the ability to close relationships instead of welcoming them. Pride is a nasty thrown I am tempted to sit upon. 

C.S. Lewis writes in The Joyful Christian, “Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.”

The author, Paul, is advocating for Philemon’s slave, Onesimus (name means “useless"), to find equal status in Philemon’s household, to be known as a brother and friend. How does this happen when privilege and supremacy and economic levels require a different cultural expectation? How could Paul ask Philemon to rebel against culture for someone who is obviously less-than? In a world that ranks people, Paul is asking for a new perspective.

What I see in this short letter is Paul’s dedication to a person’s humanity, not a cultural structure. Paul wasn’t concerned about culture, doctrine, dogma, or theology but about the flesh and blood person. Paul understood the gospel as God’s love and radical acceptance of every human so to be a gospel people means we live likewise. To be a gospel people means we must willingly give up privilege and pride for the sake of Christ.

The Lenten wilderness has become a place where my righteous beliefs, strong pride, and correct convictions break down to become a little more pliable and moldable. Instead of making Jesus into my “correct” image, I’m made a little more into his. Instead of crawling up to the thrown where I arrogantly deem right from wrong, shutting down other perspectives, I’m able to dismantle that thrown. In the wilderness of lack and loss, I peel my allured gaze from power and onto the cross where humility was birthed. 

In the wilderness, a radical shift from seeing a person as less-than, useless, and unimportant into valuable and a beloved sibling can happen. Because if the gospel isn’t good news for everyone, it’s not good news. The wilderness can shift how we see the gospel and the gospel has the capacity to shift how we relate to others—and this is good news. 

May we no longer rank people like the world does but instead lay down privilege, pride, certainty, and arrogance. May we stay curious and open to each other because the radical love of God for all is here.

With (love),
Bethany

“What makes the Gospel offensive isn’t who it keeps out, but who it lets in.”
Rachel Held Evans