The Story of a Runaway Slave

Charles H. Spurgeon
Sermon No. 1268 · The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Volume XXI · Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
Scripture: Philemon 1:15

DELIVERED BY

C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"Perhaps he therefore departed for a season, that you should receive
him forever." Philemon 1:15.

NATURE is selfish but Grace is loving. He who boasts that he cares for
nobody and nobody cares for him, is the reverse of a Christian, for
Jesus Christ enlarges the heart when He cleanses it. None so tender and
sympathetic as our Master and if we are truly His disciples, the same
mind will be in us which was also in Christ Jesus. The Apostle Paul was
eminently large-hearted and sympathetic. Surely he had enough to do at
Rome to bear his own troubles and to preach the Gospel. If, like the
priest in the parable of the good Samaritan, he had, "passed by on the
other side," he might have been excused, for he was on the urgent
business of that Master who once said to His 70 messengers, "Salute no
man by the way."

We might not have wondered if Paul had said, "I cannot find time to
attend to the needs of a runaway slave." But Paul was not of that mind.
He had been preaching and Onesimus had been converted–and from now on
he regarded him as his own son. I do not know why Onesimus came to
Paul. Perhaps he went to him as a great many scapegraces have come to
me–because their fathers knew me. And so, as Onesimus' master had
known Paul, the servant applied to his master's friend, perhaps to beg
some little help in his extremity. Anyway, Paul seized the opportunity
and preached Jesus to him and the runaway slave became a Believer in
the Lord Jesus Christ!

Paul watched him, admired the character of his convert and was glad to
be served by him. And when Paul thought it right that he should return
to his master, Philemon, he took a deal of trouble to compose a letter
of apology for him, a letter which shows long thinking, since every
word is well selected. Although the Holy Spirit dictated it,
Inspiration does not prevent a man's exercising thought and care on
what he writes. Every word is chosen for a purpose. If he had been
pleading for himself, he could not have pleaded more earnestly or
wisely. Paul, as you know, was not accustomed to write letters with his
own hand, but dictated to a secretary.

It is supposed that he had an affection of the eyes and, therefore,
when he did write, he used large capital letters, as he says in one of
the Epistles, "You see how large a letter I have written unto you with
my own hand." The Epistle was not a large one, but he probably alluded
to the largeness of the characters which he was obliged to use whenever
he, himself, wrote. This letter to Philemon, at least part of it, was
not dictated, but was written by his own hand. See the 19th verse. "I,
Paul, have written it with my own hand. I will repay it." It is the
only note of hand which I recall in Scripture, but there it is–an I O
U for whatever amount Onesimus may have stolen!

Let us cultivate a large-hearted spirit and sympathize with the people
of God, especially with new converts, if we find them in trouble
through past wrongdoing. If anything needs setting right, do not let us
condemn them off-hand and say, "You have been stealing from your
master, have you? You profess to be converted, but we do not believe
it." Such suspicious and severe treatment may be deserved, but it is
not such as the love of Christ would suggest. Try and set the fallen
ones right and give them again, as we say, "a fair start in the world."
If God has forgiven them, surely we may, and if Jesus Christ has
received them, they cannot be too bad for us to receive! Let us do for
them what Jesus would have done had He been here–so shall we truly be
the disciples of Jesus.

Thus I introduce to you the text, and I notice concerning it, first,
that it contains a singular instance of Divine Grace. Secondly, it
brings before us a case of sin overruled. And, thirdly, it may be
regarded as an example of relationship improved by Grace, for now he
that was a servant for a season will abide with Philemon all his
lifetime and be no more a servant, but a beloved Brother in Christ.

I. But, first, let us look at Onesimus as AN INSTANCE OF DIVINE GRACE.
We see the Grace of God in his election. He was a slave. In those days
slaves were very ignorant, untaught and degraded. Being barbarously
used, they were

for the most part, themselves sunk in the lowest barbarism. Neither did
their masters attempt to raise them out of it. It is possible that
Philemon's attempt to do good to Onesimus may have been irksome to the
man and he may, therefore, have fled from his house. His master's
prayers, warnings and Christian regulations may have been disagreeable
to him and therefore he ran away.

He wronged his master, which he would scarcely have done if he had not
been treated as a confidential servant to some extent. Possibly the
unusual kindness of Philemon and the trust reposed in him may have been
too much for his untrained nature. We know not what he stole, but
evidently he had taken something, for the Apostle says, "If he has
wronged you, or owes you anything, put that on my account." He ran away
from Colosse, therefore, and thinking that he would be less likely to
be discovered by the ministers ofjustice, he sought the city of Rome
which was, then, as large as the city of London is now, and perhaps
larger.

There, in those back slums, such as the Jews' quarter in Rome now is,
Onesimus would go and hide. Or among those gangs of thieves which
infested the imperial city, he would not be known or heard of any more,
so he thought–and he could live the free and easy life of a thief.
Yet, mark you, the Lord looked out of Heaven with an eye of love and
set that eye on Onesimus! Were there no free men, that God must elect a
slave? Were there no faithful servants, that He must choose one who had
embezzled his master's money? Were there none of the educated and
polite, that He must look upon a barbarian? Were there none among the
moral and the excellent that Infinite Love should fix itself upon this
degraded being who was now mixed up with the very scum of society?

And what the scum of society was in old Rome I should not like to
think, for the upper classes were about as brutalized in their general
habits as we can very well conceive! What the lowest scum of all must
have been, none of us can tell. Onesimus was part and parcel of the
dregs of a sink of sin. Read Paul's first chapter of the Epistle to the
Romans, if you can, and you will see in what a horrible state the
heathen world was, at that time. And Onesimus was among the worst of
the worst! And yet Eternal Love, which passed by kings and princes and
left Pharisees and Sadducees, philosophers and magi to stumble in the
dark as they chose, fixed its eyes upon this poor benighted creature
that he might be made a vessel to honor, fit for the Master's use!–

"When the Eternal bows the skies To visit earthly things, With scorn
Divine He turns His eyes From towers of haughty kings. He bids His
awful chariot roll Far downward from the skies, To visit every humble
soul, With pleasure in His eyes. Why should the Lord that reigns above
Disdain so lofty kings? Say, Lord, and why such looks of love Upon such
worthless things? Mortals are dumb; what creature dares Dispute His
awful will? Ask no account of His affairs, But tremble and be still.
Just like His nature is His Grace, All sovereign, and all free Great
God, howsearchlessare Your ways How deep yourjudgments be!"

"I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have
compassion on whom I will have compassion," rolls like thunder from the
Cross of Calvary and from the Mount of Sinai. The Lord is Sovereign and
does as He pleases. Let us admire that marvelous electing love which
selected such a one as Onesimus!

Grace, also, is to be observed, in the next place, in the conversion of
this runaway slave. Look at him! How unlikely he appears to become a
convert. He is an Asiatic slave of about the same grade as an ordinary
Lascar, or heathen Chinese. He was, however, worse than the ordinary
Lascar who is certainly free and probably an honest man, if he is
nothing else.

This man had been dishonest and he was daring, for after taking his
master's property he was bold enough to make a long journey from
Colosse to reach Rome. But Everlasting Love means to convert the
man–and converted he shall be!

He may have heard Paul preach at Colosse and Athens, but yet he had not
been impressed. In Rome, Paul was not preaching in St. Peter's–it was
in no such noble building! Paul was not preaching in a place like the
Tabernacle, where Onesimus could have a comfortable seat–no such place
as that–but it was probably down there at the back of the Palatine
Hill, where the praetorian guard have their lodgings and where there
was a prison called the Praetorian. In a bare room in the barrack
prison Paul sat with a soldier chained to his hand, preaching to all
who were admitted to hear him–and there it was that the Grace of God
reached the heart of this wild young man, and, oh, what an immediate
change it made in him!

Now you see him repenting of his sin, grieved to think he has wronged a
good man, vexed to see the depravity of his heart as well as the error
of his life. He weeps. Paul preaches to him Christ crucified and the
glance ofjoy is in his eye– and from that heavy heart a load is taken!
New thoughts light up that dark mind! The very face is changed and the
entire man renewed, for the Grace of God can turn a lion into a lamb,
the raven into a dove! Some of us, I have no doubt, are quite as
wonderful instances of Divine election and effectual calling as
Onesimus was. Let us, therefore, record the lov-ingkindness of the Lord
and let us say to ourselves, "Christ shall have the glory of it. The
Lord has done it and unto the Lord be honor, world without end."

The Grace of God was conspicuous in the character which it worked in
Onesimus upon his conversion, for he appears to have been helpful,
useful and profitable. So Paul says. Paul was willing to have had him
as an associate and it is not every man that is converted that we
should altogether choose as a companion. There are odd people to be met
with who will go to Heaven, we have no doubt, for they are pilgrims on
the right way. But we would like to keep on the other side of the road,
for they are cross-grained and there is a something about them that
one's nature can no more delight in than the palate can take pleasure
in nauseous medicine. They are a sort of spiritual hedgehogs–they are
alive and useful and, no doubt, they illustrate the wisdom and patience
of God–but they are not good companions. One would not like to carry
them in his bosom.

But Onesimus was evidently of a kind, tender, loving spirit. Paul at
once called him Brother and would have liked to retain him. When he
sent him back, was it not a clear proof of a change of heart in
Onesimus that he would go back? Away as he was in Rome, he might have
passed on from one town to another and have remained perfectly free.
But feeling that he was under some kind of bond to his
master–especially since he had injured him–he takes Paul's advice to
return to his old position. He will go back and take a letter of
apology or introduction to his master, for he knows that it is his duty
to make reparation for the wrong that he has done.

I always like to see a resolve to make restitution of former wrongs in
people who profess to be converted. If they have taken any money
wrongfully, they ought to repay it. It were well if they returned
sevenfold. If we have, in any way, robbed or wronged another, I think
the first instincts of Grace in the heart will suggest compensation in
all ways within our power. Do not think it is to be got over by saying,
"God has forgiven me and, therefore, I may leave it." No, dear Friend,
but inasmuch as God has forgiven you, try to undo all the wrong and
prove the sincerity of your repentance by so doing.

So Onesimus will go back to Philemon and work out his term of years
with him, or otherwise do Philemon's wishes, for though he might have
preferred to wait upon Paul, his first duty was due to the man whom he
had injured. That showed a gentle, humble, honest, upright spirit and
let Onesimus be commended for it–no, let the Grace of God be extolled
for it! Look at the difference between the man who robbed and the man
who now comes back to be profitable to his master. What wonders the
Grace of God has done! Brethren, let me add–what wonders the Grace of
God can do! Many plans are employed in the world for the reformation of
the wicked and the reclaiming of the fallen–and to every one of these,
as far as they are rightly bottomed, we wish good success–for whatever
things are lovely and pure, and of good report, we wish them God speed.

But mark this word–the true reforming of the drunk lies in giving him
a new heart! The true reclaiming of the harlot is to be found in a
renewed nature! Purity will never come to fallen women by those hideous
Contagious Diseases Acts, which, to my mind, wear, like Cain, a curse
upon their forehead! Womanhood will but sink lower under such laws. The
harlot must be washed in the Savior's blood or she will never be clean!
The lowest strata of society will never be brought

into the light of virtue, sobriety and purity except by Jesus Christ
and His Gospel–and we must stick to that. Let all others do what they
like, but God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of our Lord
Jesus Christ.

I see certain of my Brethren fiddling away at the branches of the tree
of vice with their wooden saws, but, as for the Gospel, it lays the axe
at the roots of the whole forest of evil! And if it is fairly received
into the heart it fells all the upas trees at once–and instead of
them, there spring up the fir tree, the pine tree and the box tree
together–to beautify the house of our Master's Glory! Let us, when we
see what the Spirit of God can do for men, publish the Grace of God and
extol it with all our might!

II. And now, secondly, we have in our text and its connections, a very
interesting INSTANCE OF SIN OVERRULED. Onesimus had no right to rob his
master and run away. But God was pleased to make use of that crime for
his conversion. It brought him to Rome and so brought him where Paul
was preaching–and thus it brought him to Christ and to his right mind.
Now, when we speak of this, we must be cautious. When Paul says,
"Perhaps he departed for a season, that you should receive him
forever," he does not excuse his departure. He does not make it out
that Onesimus did right–not for a moment! Sin is sin, and, whatever
sin may be overruled to do, yet sin is still sin!

The crucifixion of our Savior has brought the greatest conceivable
blessings upon mankind, yet, none the less, it was "with wicked hands"
that they took Jesus and crucified Him. The selling of Joseph into
Egypt was the means in the hand of God for the preservation of Jacob
and his sons in the time of famine. But his brothers had nothing to do
with that and they were, none the less, guilty for having sold their
brother for a slave. Let it always be remembered that the faultiness or
virtue of an act is not contingent upon the result of that act.

If, for instance, a man who has been set on a railway to turn the
switch forgets to do it, you call it a very great crime if the train
comes to mischief and a dozen people are killed. Yes, but the crime is
the same if nobody is killed. It is not the result of the carelessness,
but the carelessness, itself, which deserves punishment. If it were the
man's duty to turn the switch in such-and-such a way, and his not doing
so should even by some strange accident turn to the saving of life, the
man would be equally blameworthy. There would be no credit due to him,
for if his duty lies in a certain line his fault also lies in a certain
line, namely, the neglecting of that duty.

So if God overrules sin for good, as He sometimes does, it is none the
less sin. It is sin just as much as ever, only there is so much the
more glory to the wonderful wisdom and Grace of God who, out of evil,
brings forth good and so does what only Omnipotent Wisdom can perform.
Onesimus is not excused, then, for having embezzled his master's goods
nor for having left him without permission–he still is a
transgressor–but God's Grace is glorified. Remember, too, that this
must be noticed–that when Onesimus left his master, he was performing
an action, the results of which, in all probability, would have been
ruinous to him.

He was living as a trusted dependent beneath the roof of a kind master
who had a Church in his house. If I read the Epistle rightly, he had a
godly mistress and a godly master and he had an opportunity of learning
the Gospel continually. But this reckless young blade, very likely,
could not bear it and could have lived more contentedly with a heathen
master, who would have beaten him one day and made him drunk another!
The Christian master he could not bear, so away he went. He threw away
the opportunities of salvation and he went to Rome. And he must have
gone into the lowest part of the city and associated, as I have already
told you, with the very grossest company.

Now, had it come to pass that he had joined in the insurrections of the
slaves which took place frequently about that time, as he in all
probability would have done had not Grace prevented, he would have been
put to death as others had been. He would have had a short stay in
Rome. I half suspect a month and off with his head as was the rule
towards slaves and vagabonds. Onesimus was just the very man that would
have been likely to be hurried to death and to eternal destruction. He
had put his head, as it were, between the lion's jaws by what he had
done. When a young man suddenly leaves home and goes to London, we know
what it means. When his friends do not know where he is, and he does
not want them to know, we are aware, within a little while, where he is
and what he is up to.

What Onesimus was doing, I do not know, but he was certainly doing his
best to ruin himself. His course, therefore, is to be judged, as far as
he is concerned, by what it was likely to bring him to–and though it
did not bring him to it, that was no credit to him–all the honor of it
is due to the overruling power of God! See, dear Brothers and Sisters,
how God overruled all. Thus had the Lord purposed. Nobody shall be able
to touch the heart of Onesimus but Paul. Onesimus is living at Colosse.
Paul cannot come there, he is in prison. It is necessary, then, that
Onesimus should go to Paul. Sup-

pose the kindness of Philemon's heart had prompted him to say to
Onesimus, "I want you to go to Rome and find Paul out and hear him"?

This evil servant would have said, "I am not going to risk my life to
hear a sermon. If I go with the money you are sending to Paul, or with
the letter, I shall deliver it, but I want none of his preaching."
Sometimes, you know, when people are brought to hear a preacher with
the view of their being converted, if they have any idea of it, it is
about the very last thing likely to happen, because they go there
resolved to be fireproof. And so the preaching does not come home to
them–and it would probably have been just so with Onesimus. No, no, he
was not to be won in that way! He must go to Rome another way. How
shall it be done?

Well, the devil shall do it, not knowing that he will be losing a
willing servant thereby! The devil tempts Onesimus to steal. Onesimus
does it and when he has stolen he is afraid of being discovered and so
he makes tracks for Rome as quickly as he can! And he gets down among
the back slums and there he feels what the prodigal felt–a hungry
belly–and that is one of the best preachers in the world to some
people! Their conscience is reached in that way. Being very hungry, not
knowing what to do and no man giving anything to him, he thinks whether
there is anybody in Rome that would take pity on him.

He does not know anybody in Rome at all and is likely to starve.
Perhaps one morning there was a Christian woman–I should not
wonder–who was going to hear Paul and she saw this poor man sitting
crouched up on the steps of a temple. Perhaps she went to him and spoke
about his soul. "Soul?" said he, "I care nothing about that, but my
body would thank you for something to eat. I am starving." She replied,
"Come with me, then," and she gave him bread and then she said, "I do
this for Jesus Christ's sake." "Jesus Christ!" he said, "I have heard
of Him. I used to hear of Him over at Colosse." "Whom did you hear
speak about Him?" the woman would ask. "Why, a short man with weak
eyes. A great preacher named Paul, who used to come to my master's
house." "Why, I am going to hear him preach," the woman would say,
"will you come and hear him with me?" "Well, I think I should like to
hear him again. He always had a kind word to say to the poor." So he
goes in and pushes his way among the soldiers. And Paul's Master
incites Paul to speak the right words.

It may have been so, or it may have been the other way–that not
knowing anybody else at all, he thought, "Well, there is Paul, I know.
He is here a prisoner and I will go down and see what prison he is in."
He goes down to the Praetorian and finds him there, tells him of his
extreme poverty and Paul talks to him. And then he confesses the wrong
he has done and Paul, after teaching him a little while, says, "Now,
you must go back and make amends to your master for the wrong you have
done." It may have been either of these ways, but, at any rate, the
Lord must have Onesimus in Rome to hear Paul. And the sin of Onesimus,
though perfectly voluntary on his part, so that God had no hand in it,
is yet overruled by a mysterious Providence to bring him where the
Gospel shall be blessed to his soul.

Now, I want to speak to some of you Christian people about this matter.
Have you a son who has left home? Is he a willful, wayward young man
who has gone away because he could not bear the restraints of a
Christian family? It is a sad thing it should be so–a very sad
thing–but do not despond or even have a thought of despair about him!
You do not know where he is, but God does! And you cannot follow him,
but the Spirit of God can! He is going on a voyage to Shanghai. Ah,
there may be a Paul at Shanghai who is to be the means of his
salvation! And as that Paul is not in England, your son must go there.
Is it to Australia that he is going? There may be a word spoken there,
by the blessing of God, to your son which is the only word which ever
will reach him!

I cannot speak it. Nobody in London can speak it. But the man there,
will, and God, therefore, is letting him go away in all his willfulness
and folly that he may be brought under the means of Grace which will
prove effectual to his salvation. Many a sailor boy has been wild,
reckless, godless, Christless and at last has got into a foreign
hospital. Ah, if his mother knew that he was down with the yellow
fever, how sad her mind would be, for she would conclude that her dear
son will die away at Havana or somewhere, and never come home again.
But it is just in that hospital that God means to meet with him!

A sailor writes to me something like that. He says, "My mother asked me
to read a chapter every day, but I never did. I got into the hospital
at Havana, and, when I lay there, there was a man near to me who was
dying. And he died one night, but before he died, he said to me, 'Mate,
could you come here? I want to speak to you. I have got something that
is very precious to me here. I was a wild fellow, but reading this
packet of sermons has brought me to the Savior, and I am

dying with a good hope through Grace. Now, when I am dead and gone,
will you take these sermons and read them? And may God bless them to
you. And will you write a letter to the man that preached and printed
those sermons, to tell him that God blessed them to my conversion and
that I hope he will bless them to yourself?"

It was a packet of my sermons, and God did bless them to that young man
who, I have no doubt whatever, went to that hospital because there a
man who had been brought to Christ would hand to him the words which
God had blessed to himself and would bless to his friend! You do not
know, dear Mother, you do not know. The worst thing that can happen to
a young man is sometimes the best thing that can happen to him! I have
sometimes thought, when I have seen young men of position and wealth
taking to racing and all sorts of dissipation, "Well, it is a
dreadfully bad thing, but they may as well get through their money as
quickly as ever they can, and then when they have got down to begging
they will be like the young gentleman in the parable who left his
father."

When he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land, and he
began to be in need, and he said, "I will arise and go to my father."
Perhaps the disease that follows vice–perhaps the poverty that comes
like an armed man after extravagance and debauchery–is but love in
another form, sent to compel the sinner to come to himself and consider
his ways and seek an ever merciful God! You Christian people often see
the little gutter children–the poor little Arabs in the street–and
you feel much pity for them, as well you may. There is a dear Sister
here, Miss Annie MacPherson, who lives only for them. God bless her and
her work! When you see them you cannot be glad to see them as they are,
but I have often thought that the poverty and hunger of one of these
poor little children has a louder voice to most hearts than their vice
and ignorance! And God knew that we were not ready and able to hear the
cry of the child's sin, so He added the child's hunger to that cry,
that it might pierce our hearts.

People could live in sin and yet be happy, if they were well-to-do and
rich. And if sin did not make parents poor and wretched, and their
children miserable, we should not see it and, therefore, we should not
awaken ourselves to grapple with it. It is a blessing, you know, in
some diseases, when the patient can throw the complaint out upon the
skin. It is a horrible thing to see it on the skin, but still it is
better than its being hidden inside. Oftentimes the outward sin and the
outward misery are a sort of throwing out of the disease so that the
eyes of those who know where the healing medicine is to be had is
thereby drawn to the disease–and so the soul's secret malady is dealt
with.

Onesimus might have stayed at home and he might never have been a
thief! But he might have been lost through self-righteousness. But now
his sin is visible. The scapegrace has displayed the depravity of his
heart and now it is that he comes under Paul's eyes and Paul's prayers
and becomes converted! Do not, I pray you, ever despair of man or woman
or child because you see their sin upon the surface of their character.
On the contrary, say to yourself, "This is placed where I can see it,
that I may pray about it. It is thrown out under my eyes that I may now
concern myself to bring this poor soul to Jesus Christ, the mighty
Savior who can save the most forlorn sinner."

Look at it in the light of earnest, active benevolence and awaken
yourselves to conquer it! Our duty is to hope on and to pray on. It may
be, perhaps, that, "he therefore departed for a season, that you should
receive him forever." Perhaps the boy has been so wayward that his sin
may come to a crisis and a new heart may be given him. Perhaps your
daughter's evil has been developed that now the Lord may convince her
of sin and bring her to the Savior's feet. At any rate, if the case is
ever so bad, hope in God and pray on!

III. Once more. Our text may be viewed as AN EXAMPLE OF RELATIONS
IMPROVED. "He therefore departed for a season, that you should receive
him forever." "Not now as a servant, but a Brother beloved, specially
to one, but how much more unto you?" You know we are a long while
learning great truths. Perhaps Philemon had not quite found out that it
was wrong for him to have a slave. Some men who were very good in their
time did not know it. John Newton did not know that he was flying wrong
in the slave trade and George Whitfield, when he left slaves to the
orphanage at Savannah, which had been willed to him, did not think, for
a moment, that he was doing anything more than if he had been dealing
with horses, or gold and silver.

Public sentiment was not enlightened, although the Gospel has always
struck at the very root of slavery. The essence of the Gospel is that
we are to do to others as we would that others should do to us–and
nobody would wish to be another man's slave–and therefore he has no
right to have another man as his slave. Perhaps, when Onesimus ran away
and came back again, this letter of Paul may have opened Philemon's
eyes a little as to his own position. Maybe he began to doubt that he
was a good master. He had trusted his servant and not treated him as a
slave at all, but perhaps he had

not regarded him as a brother. And now Onesimus has come back. He will
be a better servant, but Philemon will be a better master and a
slave-holder no longer. He will regard his former servant as a Brother
in Christ.

Now, this is what the Grace of God does when it comes into a family. It
does not alter the relations. It does not give the child a right to be
pert and forget that he is to be obedient to his parents. It does not
give the father a right to lord it over his children without wisdom and
love, for it tells him that he is not to provoke his children to anger,
lest they be discouraged. It does not give the servant the right to be
a master, neither does it take away from the master his position, or
allow him to exaggerate his authority–but all round it softens and
sweetens.

Rowland Hill used to say that he would not give a halfpenny for a man's
piety if his dog and his cat were not better off after he was
converted. There was much weight in that remark. Everything in the
house goes better when Grace oils the wheels. The mistress is, perhaps,
rather sharp, quick, tart–well, she gets a little sugar into her
constitution when she receives the Grace of God! The servant may be apt
to loiter, be late up in the morning, very slovenly, fond of a gossip
at the door. But if she is truly converted, all that kind of thing
ends. She is conscientious and attends to her duty as she ought. The
master, perhaps–well, he is the master and you know it. But when he is
a truly Christian man–he has a gentleness, a suavity, a
considerateness about him.

The husband is the head of the wife, but when renewed by Grace he is
not at all the head of the wife as some husbands are. The wife also
keeps her place and seeks, by all gentleness and wisdom to make the
house as happy as she can. I do not believe in your religion, dear
Friend, if it belongs to the Tabernacle and the Prayer Meeting, but not
to your home. The best religion in the world is that which smiles at
the table, works at the sewing machine, and is amiable in the
drawing-room. Give me the religion which blacks boots and does them
well, cooks the food and cooks it so that it can be eaten! Measures out
yards of calico and does not make them half-an-inch short! Sells a
hundred yards of an article and does not label 90 a hundred, as many
trades people do!

That is the true Christianity which affects the whole of life! If we
are truly Christians we shall be changed in all our relationships to
our fellow men and, therefore, we shall regard those whom we call our
inferiors with quite a different eye. It is wrong in Christian people
when they are so sharp upon little faults that they see in servants,
especially if they are Christian servants. That is not the way to
correct them. They see a little something wrong and, oh, they are down
upon the poor girls as if they had murdered somebody! If your Master,
and mine, were to treat us in that style I wonder how we would get on?
How quick some are in discharging their maids for small faults! No
excuse, no trying the persons again– they must go.

Many a young man has been turned out of a situation for the littlest
trifle, by a Christian employer, when he must have known that he would
be exposed to all sorts of risks. And many a servant has been sent
adrift as if she were a dog, with no sort of thought whether another
position could be found, and without anything being done to prevent her
going astray. Do let us think of others, especially of those whom
Christ loves even as He does us. Philemon might have said, "No, no, I
won't take you back, Mr. Onesimus, not I. Once bitten, twice shy, Sir.
I never ride a horse with broken knees. You stole my money! I am not
going to have you back again." I have heard that style of talk, have
not you? Did you ever feel like it? If you have, go home and pray to
God to get such a feeling out of you, for it is bad stuff to have in
your soul! You cannot take it to Heaven.

When the Lord Jesus Christ has forgiven you so freely, are you to take
your servant by the throat and say, "Pay me what you owe?" God forbid
that we should continue in such a temper! Be pitiful, easily entreated,
ready to forgive. It is a deal better that you should suffer a wrong
than do a wrong–much better that you should overlook a fault which you
might have noticed, than notice a fault which you ought to have
overlooked–

"Let love through all your actions run, And all your words be kind," is
said in the little hymn which we used to learn when we were children.
We should practice it now, and–

"Live like the blessed virgin's Son That meek and lowly Child."

God grant we may, of His infinite Grace! I want to say this, and then I
have done. If the mysterious Providence of God was to be seen in
Onesimus getting to Rome, I wonder whether there is any Providence of
God in some of you being here tonight? It is possible. Such things do
happen. People come here that never meant to come. The last thing in
the world they would have believed, if anybody had said it, is that
they would be here, yet here they are.

With all manner of lyrists and turns they have gone about, but they
have got here somehow. Did you miss a train, and so stepped in to wait?
Did not your ship sail quite so soon as you expected, and so are you
here tonight? Say, is that it? I do pray you, then, consider this
question with your heart. "Does not God mean to bless me? Has He not
brought me here, on purpose, that this night I may yield my heart to
Jesus as Onesimus did?" My dear Friend, if you believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ, you shall have immediate pardon for all sin and shall be
saved! The Lord has brought you here in His infinite wisdom to hear
that, and I hope that He has also brought you here that you may accept
it and so go your way altogether changed.

Some three years ago I was talking with an aged minister, and he began
fumbling about in his waistcoat pocket, but he was a long while before
he found what he wanted. At last he brought out a letter that was well
near worn to pieces, and he said, "God Almighty bless you! God Almighty
bless you!" And I said, "Friend, what is it?" He said, "I had a son. I
thought he would be the stay of my old age, but he disgraced himself
and he went away from me, and I could not tell where he went, only he
said he was going to America. He took a ticket to sail for America from
the London Docks, but he did not go on the particular day that he
expected."

This aged minister bade me read the letter, and I read it, and it was
like this–"Father, I am here in America. I have found a situation and
God has prospered me. I write to ask your forgiveness for the thousand
wrongs that I have done you and the grief I have caused you, for
blessed be God, I have found the Savior! I have joined the Church of
God here, and hope to spend my life in God's service. It happened thus:
I did not sail for America the day I expected. I went down to the
Tabernacle to see what it was like, and God met with me. Mr. Spurgeon
said, 'Perhaps there is a runaway son here. The Lord call him by His
Grace.' And he did. "Now," said he, as he folded up the letter and put
it in his pocket, "that son of mine is dead and he is in Heaven, and I
love you, and I shall do so as long as I live, because you were the
means of bringing him to Christ."

Is there a similar character here tonight? I feel persuaded there
is–somebody of the same sort–and in the name of God I charge him to
take the warning that I give him from this pulpit! I dare you to go out
of this place as you came in! Oh, young man, the Lord in mercy gives
you another opportunity of turning from the error of your ways, and I
pray you now, here–as you now are–lift your eyes to Heaven, and say,
"God be merciful to me a sinner," and He will be so. Then go home to
your father and tell him what the Grace or God has done for you–and
wonder at the love which brought you here to bring you to

Christ!

Dear Friend, if there is nothing mysterious about it, yet here we are.
We are where the Gospel is preached and that brings responsibility upon
us. If a man is lost, it is better for him to be lost without hearing
the Gospel than to be lost as some of you will be if you perish under
the sound of a clear, earnest enunciation of the Gospel of Jesus
Christ! How long have some of you been between two opinions? "Have I
been so long time with you," says Christ, "and yet have you not known
Me?" All this teaching and preaching and invitations–and yet do you
not turn?–

"O God, You the sinner turn,

Convince him of his lost estate.

Let him linger no longer,

Lest he linger till he rue his

Fatal choice too late." God bless you, for Christ's sake. Amen.

PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Philemon. HYMNS FROM "OUR OWN
HYMN BOOK"–231, 248.