Just a little epistle
Traced a subject who hurt
Just a runaway thief
Should have got just deserts.
As a slave there was death
Or dismemberment’s price
Owner Philemon
Held the answer
And it was not at all nice.
Far away in great Rome
Languished Paul behind bars
Denied open air
Or the glorious night stars
But for those would listen
He would open Grace trove.
And pour out free forgiveness
And the rest of God’s Love.
Soon the slave made an entrance
Helping where e’er he might
Not a word of his errors
Not a word of sin’s blight.
Yet the truth would come out
And Paul knew the wronged Boss.
‘He would stand
As slave’s Surety
He would cover the loss.’
Much like Jesus his Master
Who had faced the cruel Cross.
4 I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, 5 because I hear about your love for all his holy people and your faith in the Lord Jesus. 6 I pray that your partnership with us in the faith may be effective in deepening your understanding of every good thing we share for the sake of Christ. 7 Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the Lord’s people.
Paul’s Plea for Onesimus
8 Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, 9 yet I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love. It is as none other than Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus— 10 that I appeal to you for my son Onesimus,[b]
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