Phm
14 November 2010
“Koinōnia”
“Blest
be the tie that binds / Our hearts in Christian love: / The fellowship of
kindred minds / Is like to that above.”
That’s how we end our worship service.
We join hands, and we sing the first verse of the hymn, “Blest Be the
Tie That Binds.” There have been a
number of times that I wanted to include the entire hymn in the service, but
the fact that we sing the first verse every week has made me hesitant.
But
aside from those considerations, do we know why we do that? Do we know why we join hands and sing that
verse? I’m not asking so much about the when
it began as the why. Are we
expressing a desire to God? I hope no
one will tell me that it’s a cute way to end the service. I’m not making a case for ending the practice,
but it is important to understand what we do in worshipping God—otherwise, it’s
mindless repetition.
(On
the note of understanding what we do in worship, I’ve been reading a book about
the Apostles’ Creed. A couple of sermons
are already percolating in my head on that.)
In the New Testament, “the fellowship of kindred
minds” is marked by the Greek word koinwnia (koinōnia). Often translated as “fellowship” or
“communion,” koinōnia literally means “partnership.” It has to do with “sharing.” Paul uses the word in Romans 15, where he praises
the churches who’ve “been pleased to share (koinwnian, koinōnian) their resources with the poor among the saints
at Jerusalem” (v. 26).
Now, I realize that all this may seem well and
good, but it may not appear to have anything to do with the letter to
Philemon. Discussion of this letter has frequently focused on two
themes. The first is the question of slavery. From reading the
epistle, we see that a slave named Onesimus has run away from (and possibly
robbed) his master, Philemon.
Anyway, it appears that Onesimus has somehow
encountered Paul while the apostle is in prison. It’s through that
contact with Paul that the runaway slave has come to Christ. Some people
feel that Paul, by not demanding that Onesimus be set free, is going along with
slavery. Others say that Paul’s emphasis on him as “more than a slave, a
beloved brother” shows that the apostle wants to undermine the practice of
slavery.
That’s one theme. Another has focused on why
Paul wants Onesimus to be set free. Paul admits, in verse 13, “I wanted
to keep him with me” so that he could be of assistance. And in verse 20,
using a play on words, understanding that the name Onesimus (Onhsimo") means “useful” or “beneficial,” he asks Philemon,
“let me have this benefit (onaimhn, onaimēn) from you.”
Actually, Paul’s use of the word “love” in the
letter is almost a play on
words. Philemon means “one who kisses”
or “one who loves.” The difference is
that Paul is saying agape (agape).
His friend’s name is based on filew (phileō), another word
for love.
Anyway, back to the question of freeing his slave! As I said, Paul doesn’t make any demands on
Philemon. Well, not exactly. It
seems that Paul has led both master and slave to Christ, as he reminds
him in verse 19: “I say nothing about your owing me even your own
self.” I’ve always thought this is a great line. I like the way
Paul slips that in there.
In his paraphrase of the Bible, The Message, Eugene Peterson is less
delicate. “I
don’t need to remind you, do I, that you owe your very life to me?”
In any event, it looks like he does as Paul
asks. For one thing, the early church probably wouldn’t have retained the
letter and considered it to be scripture if Philemon had simply ignored it.
Also, history records in the early second century a bishop
of Ephesus named Onesimus.[1]
It’s possible, if not probable, that this is the same former slave who
went on to become a leader of the church in his own right.
Having said all that, we need to look at Paul’s
prayer before he makes his
request. In verse 6, Paul prays “that
the sharing of your faith may become effective when you perceive all the good
that we may do for Christ.” The sharing of your faith. This
is the word koinōnia.
Paul is praying that the sharing of Philemon’s
faith may become “effective.” The NIV uses the word “active.” The
Greek term is energh" (energēs):
the source for our English word “energy.” So Paul is praying that the
sharing of his friend’s faith will be energized
when he realizes all the good that is possible in Christ. No one can
accuse Paul of having modest expectations!
Think about this for a moment. Before he even
gets into the whole business of Onesimus the slave and what he wants done with
him, Paul presents Philemon with this grand vision of what could be, of
what could happen. Before he gets caught up in the details, Paul
prays that his partner will see the many possibilities that await them in Christ.
My use of the word “partner” is deliberate. In verse 17, he says, “So if you consider me
your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me.” Again, that’s the word koinōnia.
Eldon Koch comments on
this. “The slave also becomes a
partner by virtue of the fellowship. Both
master and slave experience the mighty transforming power of the fellowship
which is characterized by faith in Christ.
The slave lost his slavishness, and the master lost his [tyranny]. In Christ they are partners.”[2] They enjoy koinōnia.
Still, I know—it’s one thing to hear this and agree
with it, but it’s quite another thing to actually put it into practice.
We may understand the need for trust and confidence in our relationships, the
need for actual community to develop, but find it very difficult to see it
accomplished. Why is that?
Why would it be so complicated to enter into the koinōnia that we may see as so important? Last week, I commented briefly on being
condemned by the past. Sometimes, it’s a
question of what we’ve experienced in life.
Today, the 14th of November marks the
fifteenth anniversary of the surgery needed to remove the malignant brain tumor
that somehow had appeared beneath my skull.
I say “somehow,” because I asked my neurologist what causes such things,
and he responded, “Beats me!” (I’m paraphrasing.)
For several reasons, I’ve come to see that
day as a watershed moment in my life—another conversion experience. I sometimes think of my life prior to that
day as BC, “before cancer.” My life
after that day is AD, “after diagnosis.”
(It’s the best I could do to make it fit the letters!)
In March 1996, I had another seizure, which
required another surgery. The problem
was a staph infection. Upon returning
home, I had an IV course of antibiotics that lasted for four weeks.
With two brain surgeries, CAT and MRI scans,
radiation therapy, chemotherapy (which I had only recently begun), and the
other medications, we were running up huge medical bills. It didn’t take very long until our student
health insurance was used up. We signed
up with the Pennsylvania state medical assistance, which provided some help, but not nearly enough.
Here’s where my comment a few moments ago
about what we’ve experienced in life enters in. Banu and I received donations from people
there at school, from our churches, and there were unexpected things. Bags of groceries would be left at our
door. On a number of occasions, people
and churches who we didn’t even know—and we had never heard of—sent us money.
They were gifts from God. In no way at all do I dismiss the help from
the insurance company, the state welfare program, and our friends and
family. I definitely recognize them as
God’s gift. But there’s also no question
that the support from strangers and anonymous sources provided, and still
provides, a special sort of sharing. It’s
a unique kind of koinōnia.
I hope we can see that in Paul’s letter to Philemon. It’s deeper than a request about a runaway
slave. As he says to him, “I have indeed received much joy and encouragement
from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through
you, my brother” (v. 7). He speaks of a
love that shines beneath the surface of our lives, despite whatever chaos and
crap that comes our way. That is the tie
that binds our hearts in Christian love.
Christian community is making ourselves vulnerable for
this love to shine among us. Koinōnia
is not simply being nice or cute. It’s a
partnership that speaks the truth and invites and empowers others to do the same.
As Koch says, it goes beyond a generic, fuzzy
love of everyone to “a powerful exercise of fellowship to demonstrate that love
in particular cases,” such as Paul, who challenges his friend—and his friend, who
defies custom to welcome his slave as a brother.[3]
Koinōnia is the tie that inspires us to say, “I pray that the sharing of your faith may become
effective when you perceive all the good that we may do for Christ.”