“Blest be the tie that binds / Our hearts in Christian love: / The fellowship of kindred minds / Is like to that above.”  That, of course, is the first line of a hymn beloved by many.  It’s been noted that the author, Rev. John Fawcett, penned the words after refusing to move from his small town parish in England to pastor a church in London.  The tears of love and grief from his parishioners compelled him to stay.^[1]  That is fellowship in action.^[2]

In the New Testament, “the fellowship of kindred minds” is marked by the Greek word κοινωνια (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 (κοινωνιαν, koinōnian) their resources with the poor among the saints at Jerusalem” (v. 26).

Discussion of the letter to Philemon has frequently focused, not on fellowship, but on two other 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.

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 freed, 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 would want 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 (Ονησιμος) means “useful” or “beneficial,” he asks Philemon, “let me have this benefit (ονηαιμν, 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 αγαπη (agape).  His friend’s name is based on φιλεω (phileō), another word for love.

So, back to the question of freeing his slave!  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.”  This is a great line!  Paul just happens to slip 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.^[3]   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 ενεργης (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!

Notice, 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.

The 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 despotism.  In Christ they are partners.”^[4]  They enjoy koinōnia.

Still, it’s one thing to hear this and agree with it, but it’s quite another thing to actually put it into practice.  We might 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 would it be so complicated to enter into the koinōnia that we might see as so important?  Often, it’s a question of what we’ve experienced in life.

In November 1995, when my wife Banu and I were at seminary, I had surgery to remove a malignant brain tumor.  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, Banu and I 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 state medical assistance, which provided some help, but not nearly enough.

Here’s where the comment 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.

Can we 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 life, 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.^[5]

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.”

^[1] Handbook to the Hymnal, ed. William Chalmers Covert (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Christian Education, 1935), 363.

^[2] I’m including portions of my sermon “Koinōnia”

^[3] M. E. Lyman, “Onesimus,” The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, vol. 3 (Nashville:  Abingdon Press, 1962), 602.

^[4] Eldon Koch, “A Cameo of Koinonia,” Interpretation 17:2 (April 1963):  185.

^[5] Koch, 184.

“Blest be the tie that binds / Our hearts in Christian love: / The fellowship of kindred minds / Is like to that above.”  That, of course, is the first line of a hymn beloved by many.

A story is told about John Fawcett, the author of the hymn.^[1]  He was the pastor of a church in Yorkshire.  In 1772, he was invited to serve a church in London.

“A farewell sermon had been preached.  Wagons loaded for removal to the new parish waited at the door.  His people came to say ‘Good-by.’”  However, “their expressions of love and tears of bitter grief, were too much for Fawcett and his wife.  They could not, they would not, sever so sacred a tie.  Furnishings were unloaded and set back in place.  Notice of his change of plans was dispatched to London.  Later Fawcett wrote this hymn.”

In the New Testament, “the fellowship of kindred minds” can be summed up by the Greek word κοινωνια (koinōnia).  Often translated as “communion” or “fellowship,” koinōnia literally means “partnership.”  It has to do with “sharing.”

When I was in the Assemblies of God, there were two Greek words that we heard on a regular basis: agape and koinōnia.  Agape, of course is “love,” and by the New Testament era, it had picked up a sense of God’s love, a divine love without reserve.

I think we heard so much about koinōnia because it really expresses how we as sisters and brothers in the faith live together, or at least, one hopes we strive to live that way!

Koinōnia also features in the letter to Philemon.  This is one of the prison epistles, the others being Ephesians, Philippians, and Colossians.  All of these are written while the apostle Paul is spending time in the slammer, locked up behind bars.

Discussion of this letter has often focused on two themes.  The first is the question of slavery.  We see that a slave named Onesimus has run away from (and probably robbed) his master, Philemon.

It looks like Onesimus has encountered Paul while the apostle is in prison.  It’s through 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 (Ονησιμος) means “useful” or “beneficial,” he asks Philemon, “let me have this benefit (οναιμην, onaimēn) from you.”

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.”  What a great line!

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?”

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 ενεργης (energēs):  the source for our 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 modest expectations!

Think about this for a moment.  Before he even gets into the whole business of Onesimus 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 (remember the definition of koinōnia) will see the many possibilities that await them in Christ.

But this is no easy thing for Philemon.  There is great social pressure to severely punish his runaway slave, especially if the slave has stolen from him.  Eldon Koch says, “Philemon must forego revenge, swallow his pride, and perhaps endure the scoffs of his townsmen if Onesimus be accepted in this new way.”^[2]  That new way is if he receives him as “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother.”

Again, this something to note.  Paul is basing his appeal on love and faith.  Scripture and theology are clearly important, but alone, they don’t carry the weight that communion carries.  I think Paul understands that Philemon won’t be swayed by logical reasoning alone.  Philemon must experience fellowship, experience communion, experience koinōnia.  He must experience.

The first church Banu and I served was in Nebraska.  The North Platte newspaper did a story on the new clergy couple in the area.  (Well, half of the new clergy couple!)  One of their reporters interviewed Banu and especially focused on her being a Turkish woman who converted from Islam—and very likely, the only Turkish woman ordained as a pastor in America.

The article got a little bit of attention, including from a fellow who was with the local Baha’i community.  He invited us to join he and his friends for dinner.  As it turned out, at least half of them had been part of one Christian denomination or another.  There were mixed reviews, and mixed emotions, about their experiences with the church.  I think some of them were surprised to have Presbyterian ministers join them at the table.

A term several of them used, instead of Christianity or church, was “churchianity.”  Churchianity was how they described their encounter with the church.  That was how they summed it up.  It was an empty, hollow, lifeless shell.  It was the worship, the teaching, the ritual, all good stuff, but drained of energy—without energēs, as the apostle would put it.  It was a dried out husk.

These folks we met found their koinōnia, not in the church, but in the Baha’i faith.  This is nothing against the Baha’is; there’s a whole lot of cool stuff about them.  It’s unfortunate that the church wasn’t better at modeling the fellowship and partnering that St. Paul speaks of.

There’s also the matter of the “Nones.”  A book published this year is Katherine Ozment’s Grace without God: The Search for Meaning, Purpose, and Belonging in a Secular Age.  I will confess that I haven’t yet read this one.  I’m basing my comments on her synopsis and the reviews of others.

In her quick bio, she says, ‘My book began with a simple question from my young son—‘What are we?’—that I couldn’t answer.  I shrugged and told him, ‘Nothing.’  The minute I said it, I knew I would have to find a better answer—for him, for myself, and for my family.”

I am somewhat familiar with the problems that the atheist, agnostic, secular, or the people “of whatever name” face.  There is the yearning and awareness of the need for ritual, for belonging in the heart of every human.  For those uncomfortable with the structures of religion, that’s a problem!  To be honest, sometimes I’m uncomfortable with the structures of religion.  When they impede, rather than assist, the flow of the Holy Spirit, then that’s a problem!

“Blest be the tie that binds / Our hearts in Christian love: / The fellowship of kindred minds / Is like to that above.”

That is what the sacrament we are about to share is all about.  Blest be the tie that binds.  We are remembered and re-membered at the table.  Word alone isn’t enough.  Sacrament is also necessary.  God in Jesus has appeared in flesh, has appeared in matter.  The apostle knows that words aren’t enough.  Philemon must have the experience of the tie that binds.  Prompted by the Spirit, Rev. and Mrs. Fawcett unload their possessions.

These physical actions are in line with Jesus the Christ, whose body was broken and whose blood was shed.

(And if I may ask, why do we celebrate this communion with our Lord, and among ourselves, only twelve times per year?  Is that reluctance a structure of religion that impedes the flow of the Spirit?  Just a thought!)

All of that stuff, and more, is what the church of Jesus Christ is all about.  It is possible, as I mentioned, to find a kind of koinōnia outside the church, flawed though she may be.  Still, koinōnia in its purest and truest form is what the church, purely by the grace of God, is able to share.

Before he closes the letter, Paul has a final “order” for Philemon.  “One thing more—prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping through your prayers to be restored to you” (v. 22).  Paul is planning his release from prison.  He’s counting on his friend Philemon to be praying for that long-awaited day.  He can’t wait to celebrate koinōnia with Philemon and his friends.

How can we do any less?  Are we ready to celebrate the release of a dear one from prison?  (Clearly, that can be literal or symbolic.)  Will we obey the law of love and set free one whom we’ve considered to be our slave?  Will we welcome the energy needed to see that happen?  Friends, the prescription is koinōnia.

Let us close with the Trinitarian blessing, which is found at the end of 2 Corinthians (13:13).  “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the koinōnia (the communion, the fellowship, the partnership, the sharing) of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”

^[1] Handbook to the Hymnal, ed. William Chalmers Covert (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Christian Education, 1935), 363.

^[2] Eldon Koch, “A Cameo of Koinonia,” Interpretation 17:2 (April 1963):  186.