by F. W. Farrar
CHAPTER XLVIII
_ENSLAVED AND FREE_
‘These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base As was my former servitude, ignoble Unmanly, ignominious, infamous, True slavery.’
_Samson Agonistes._
Pomponia Græcina was only one of many to whom Paul of Tarsus fromhis prison-lodging brought joy and consolation. There was a twofoldelement in the happiness which seems to rise to exultation in theletter which he wrote from Rome to his Philippians. On the one handhe felt that from his bonds there streamed illumination, so that thegrace of Christ became manifest even in Cæsar’s household, and amonghis chosen soldiers; and, on the other, he was enabled to hear thegroanings of them who were in a captivity far sorer than his own--toundo many a heavy burden, and let the oppressed go free.
Shortly after the visit he had received from Pomponia, he was toldthat a young man was waiting outside who desired to speak with him.His sympathy with the young in their trials and temptations wasalways deep, and he asked Luke to admit the visitor. With hesitatingstep and downcast mien he entered, and the Apostle bade him come andsit by his side.
‘Dost thou recognise me?’ asked the visitor, in a low voice.
‘I have met many youths in many cities,’ answered the Apostle, ‘andI have seen thy face before, but where I cannot remember. Art thouEutychus of Troas?’
‘No,’ he answered, glancing at the Prætorian; ‘but,’ he added in awhisper, ‘I am, or rather I was, a Christian.’
‘Speak without fear,’ said Celsus; ‘I, too, am one of the brethren.’
‘Thou wilt soon remember me,’ said the youth to Paul, removingthe disguise which covered his dark locks and greatly altered hisappearance. ‘I saw thee in the school of Tyrannus at Ephesus, whenI came there with my master, Philemon of Colossæ.’
‘Onesimus!’ said the Apostle. ‘Welcome, my son--though I have heardsad things of thee from many.’
‘It is true, it is all true, that thou hast heard of me, O myfather!’ said Onesimus, as he knelt before the Apostle, and kissedthe hand on which his tears were falling fast. ‘Yes; I stole moneyfrom Philemon, my beloved master. I ran away from him; I am aworthless fugitive, a thievish Phrygian slave, whom most masterswould crucify. And worse--I have denied the faith; I have done allthings vile. Can there be forgiveness, can there be hope, for suchas I am?’
‘My son,’ said the Apostle, ‘there is forgiveness, there is hope,for all who seek it.’
‘But oh, thou knowest not, my father, to what depths I have sunk.I have stolen a second time. I have been drunken with the drunken,slothful with the slothful, unclean with the unclean. I have beenfalse to my trust. I have been in the slaves’ prison, and thegladiators’ school. I have fought in the amphitheatre. I have servedthe shameful wandering priests of the Syrian goddess. Twice over haveI been all but a murderer. Can all this be forgiven?’
‘My son,’ said Paul, deeply touched, ‘thou hast sinned deeply; but sohave many, who now are washed, cleansed, justified, sanctified in thename of the Lord Jesus, and in the Spirit of our God.’
‘Ah, but,’ cried the youth, ‘they have never been renegades.’
‘Onesimus,’ answered Paul, ‘hast thou not heard how the Lord Jesustold us to forgive our brethren, not only seven times, but seventytimes seven? Will He be less merciful than He has bidden us to be? Ibid thee hope in His infinite forgiveness. The blind and the leper,the publican and the harlot, the impotent man, and she out of whom hecast seven devils, went to Him, and were forgiven. Go thou, if thoucanst not otherwise, as a leper, as a demoniac, as a paralytic, andHe will abundantly pardon. Hast thou, indeed, sought Him?’
‘Nay, father, I could not,’ said Onesimus. ‘Ever since that theftfrom Philemon, ever since that flight, I have prayed but faintly; Ifelt as if I could not pray, as if no prayer of mine could be heard.A cloud of despair has hidden God’s face from me. Oh!’ he cried,wringing his hands, ‘I am an outcast--I am a castaway. I have nopart in Him. My lot is now with this world, of which I have seenthe infamies and loathe the crimes. It was but two weeks ago thatany gleam of hope came back to me.’
‘What gave thee hope?’
‘Lucas of Antioch, whom I see with thee, gave some parts of hisrecords of Jesus to one of Octavia’s slaves. I, too, went with theunhappy Empress to Pandataria, and there I read the Master’s parableof the Prodigal Son, and I tried to say, “I will arise and go to myfather, and will say--”’
But here Onesimus stopped, and though he made an effort, he wasunable to proceed.
With all his heart the great Apostle pitied him; indeed he pitied himso much that he found no words to speak. He could only lay his handgently on the suppliant’s head, and uplift his eyes to heaven inprayer.
So Luke spoke and said, ‘I can tell thee, Onesimus, of other wordsof the Master. He cried: “Come unto me, all that are weary andheavy-laden, and I will refresh you;” and “him that cometh unto me,I will in no wise cast out.”’
‘Did He say that? Did He say that?’ asked Onesimus, eagerly.
‘He did,’ said Luke, ‘and no word of His can pass away.’
The Prætorian Celsus had heard the conversation, and he too wastouched. ‘Those words,’ he said, ‘called me from Satan to God. I wasas deep a sinner as any man in the cohort, and no man can be muchworse than that. I used to shrink from no cruelty, and to abstainfrom no sin. I was one of the soldiers employed in the massacre ofthe innocent slaves of Pedanius Secundus. So deep was my misery thatone night I went in full armour to the Sublician Bridge, meaningto end a life so shamed and empty. But as I climbed the parapet,I was seized by the strong arm of a man in a slave’s dress. I drew mydagger and asked him, with a savage oath, if he held his life cheap,since he, a slave, thus dared to interfere with me, a Prætoriansoldier. He fixed his steady eyes on me, and said, “I am unarmed;you can slay me if you will; but I will try to prevent you fromself-murder.” “My life is my own,” I answered sullenly. “It is notyour own,” he answered. “It is God’s, who gave it. He set you here,and you have no right to desert your post.” The man was Nereus, nowthe freedman of Pudens. He drew me away from the bridge, and I talkedlong with him. He was the first to give me the hope that I might livefor better things. He taught me about Christ, and Christ’s promisethat He would cast out none who came to Him. That saved me. When Iwas a Pagan I knew shame and guilt, but never knew that it could bewashed away.’
‘Thanks be to God for His great goodness,’ said the Apostle. ‘Andthou, my son, Onesimus, hear what Celsus has said. Thou hast had nofruit in the things of which thou art now ashamed, for the end ofthose things is death. But now, if thou wilt return to Christ, thyfruit shall be to holiness, and the end shall be eternal life.’
That interview completed the change in the heart of the Phrygianyouth. He had returned from Pandataria a freedman, for on the nightbefore her murder Octavia had freed her Christian slaves. He hadalso received gifts from his generous mistress which placed himabove present need. He had therefore hired himself a lodging, andnow, being readmitted, at Paul’s intercession, into the Christianassemblies, he recovered life and happiness. He waited on the Apostlewith ceaseless assiduity, and anticipated all his wants. If ever Paulneeded one to serve him--which was often the case, for Timotheus hadbeen sent on a message to Ephesus--the Phrygian was at hand, andthe Apostle found in his society and cheerful vivacity a greatalleviation of a captive’s weariness. It was not long before heconfided to the Apostle his whole story, concealing nothing, andhe asked for his advice as to his future course.
That advice fell like a death-blow on all his hopes. With theimpetuosity of youth he had entirely lost sight of the fact that hewas still Philemon’s slave, and that the manumission conferred onhim by Octavia, in her ignorance that he was the personal chattelof another, was legally invalid. He was, therefore, stricken withamazement when the Apostle told him that he was not a freedman, butstill a slave. At those words the fabric of his life seemed oncemore to be smitten int
o ruins. He had exulted with passionate joy atthe thought that he was no longer at the beck and call of a master,no longer liable to the horrors of the cross and the branding-iron,of the scourge or the furca. To be told that he was still a Phrygianslave, that duty required him to go back to the _familia_ of Philemon,to restore what he had stolen, to face any punishment which thelaw of Colossæ might inflict on him, to place his future lifeunreservedly in the hands of his owner, and to face the humiliationof returning to the company of his old companions as a thief and arunaway--this was like a sentence of hopeless condemnation. And therewas yet another circumstance which made the pang more deadly. Hestill cherished for the gentle daughter of Nereus a love which mightnot have seemed hopeless. If he stayed at Rome, if as a freedman hecould strike out for himself an honourable career--which his Greekeducation rendered possible--he felt sure that he could yet win thehand of the Christian girl. But to return to Colossæ as a slave, anda guilty slave, and to be perhaps compelled to grow old in servitudeon the banks of the Lycus--it seemed too terrible a sacrifice!
Yet his sincerity stood the test. After a great struggle with himselfhe bowed his head, and answered: ‘If it is my duty, my father, I willdo it.’
‘It is thy duty, my son Onesimus, and doubt not that the path ofthy duty will also be the path of thy happiness. Thou wilt gain bylosing. I know and I love Philemon, and his wife Apphia, and theirson Archippus; and I will write to Philemon for thee, and I do notdoubt that now he will set thee free--for indeed I need thee. Thouart as a son to me; I have begotten thee in my bonds, and thou arttrue to thy name in all thy help to me. But even if Philemon doesnot set thee free, he is now thy fellow-Christian, and therefore thybrother beloved, and no slavery can make thee other than the Lord’sfreedman.’
The letter to Philemon was written--the Magna Charta of ultimateemancipation--and Onesimus was sent with it to his former master.He was accompanied by Tychicus of Ephesus, who was charged with thecircular letter to that and other cities, as well as with the letterto the Colossians. They had an affecting parting with the Apostle,for though he was full of hope, yet the issue of his approachingtrial was uncertain, and they knew not whether they should ever seehis face again. He shed tears as he embraced Onesimus, to whom hehad grown deeply attached, but they left him in the kind care ofAristarchus, and of the two Evangelists Mark and Luke. Above all,Timotheus had again come from Ephesus to stay with him, and Timotheuswas to him as the son of his old age.
His case excited little attention. When it was heard in Nero’spresence the Emperor was amusing himself with composing a loosesatire, paragraphs of which he handed from time to time to somedelighted favourite. He polished his wicked verses again and again,till his note-book was almost illegible with erasures, and he paidlittle heed to the Apostle’s accusers. The evidence, scanty as itwas, broke down completely, and testimony in favour of the innocenceand the services of the prisoner was given gladly by gentilewitnesses.
The impeachment might have been more formidable but for the shipwreckof the vessel which, as Julius had told Vespasian, was conveying toRome a commission of his accusers among whom were two persons no lessimportant than Josephus, the young and learned Rabbi of Jerusalem,and Ishmael ben Phabi,[92] the High Priest. But their ship founderedin a terrible storm. Its entire cargo was lost, including thedocuments on which the Sadducean hierarchs of Jerusalem had reliedto procure the Apostle’s condemnation. Of the two hundred souls onboard only eighty had been picked up, by a ship of Cyrene, afterthey had swum or floated all night in the tempestuous waves. Ishmaeland Josephus had indeed been saved, but several of their witnesseshad perished. On the other hand, when men so different as Felixthe brother of Pallas, and the honourable Festus, and the centurionJulius, and Publius the Protos of Melite, and Lysias the chiefcaptain at Jerusalem, all wrote in Paul’s favour, and when thegood-natured King Agrippa II. and Berenice had taken the trouble tosubscribe to this favourable testimony with their own hands, therecould be no reason for detaining him. Not even Tigellinus had anyobject in keeping his clutch upon a prisoner who was too poor forpurposes of extortion. The Apostle was acquitted. Accompanied byrejoicing friends, he went to Ostia, and thence set sail for Ephesus.After a brief sojourn in the city of Artemis, he paid his promisedvisit to Philemon at Colossæ. The first to greet him with happysmiles in the house of the Colossian gentleman was Onesimus, andas the Apostle pressed him to his heart, he learnt that all hishopes had been fulfilled. Philemon, on receiving Paul’s letter,had summoned the fugitive to his presence, and frankly forgivenhim. Orders were given to all the slaves of the household that noreference was to be made to the past. Apphia and Archippus treatedthe runaway with marked kindness, and he himself restored the fullsum which he had stolen and strove in every way to repair the oldwrong. Philemon had not thought it advisable, under the circumstances,at once to set Onesimus free, but now in honour of Paul’s visit hemanumitted him and others of his Christian slaves, and allowed himhenceforth to devote his grateful services to the comfort of theApostle, with whom he set forth for Crete.
