You Never Know

For perhaps he was for this reason separated from you for a while, that you would have him back forever,  Philemon 1:15  NASB

Perhaps – One of the greatest blessings of life is that virtually any circumstance can be interpreted in more than one way.  Of course, it’s also a curse, but that’s how life works.  What is seen as a tragedy or disaster by one is viewed as an opportunity or rescue by another.  Even those events that carry divine explanation are often subject to multiple meanings, as the rabbis consistently point out.  What this means is really pretty simple: we just don’t know.  We just don’t know for certain!  We think we know, but, as Wittgenstein once wrote, “One always forgets the expression, ‘I thought I knew.’”

“The truth of certain empirical propositions belongs to our frame of reference.”[1]  That is to say, we interpret life’s circumstances according to the inclinations and implications of our paradigms.  If we believe in the sovereign God of Israel, we tend to view circumstances as if they were all part of some divine plan.  If we don’t follow the God of Israel (or any god), then we’re likely to see situations as nothing more than random accidents of nature.

Paul, of course, interprets the events of his life as if they are divinely orchestrated.  But he’s sharp enough to add this small Greek word, tacha, “perhaps.”  Maybe this is what it is all about—and maybe not.  Who knows?  As the king of Nineveh said, “Who knows, God may turn and relent, and turn from His burning anger so that we will not perish” (Jonah 3:9, NASB).  The king was absolutely right.  Only God knows—and most of the time He isn’t sharing.  So, Paul adds tacha.  It’s possible that Onesimus’ escape from his master was all in the plan to bring Onesimus to Paul and then back to Philemon.  It’s possible that Philemon needed Onesimus to flee in order to confront his own ethical commitment to brotherhood.  It’s possible that Onesimus was fulfilling God’s engineering by meeting Paul in Rome.  It’s possible—but then again, all kinds of other things are also possible.  It just depends on how you wish to interpret the circumstances.

Paul appeals to Philemon to interpret the events according to a particular view of the invisible handiwork of God.  Philemon isn’t compelled to view the events in this way.  Philemon didn’t buy a copy of Evidence that Demands a Verdict, but even if he had, there are always alternatives.  What Paul asks isn’t about the evidence.  It’s about sharing the same perspective, even if that perspective is a bit tentative.  Why should Philemon agree?  Ah, because from Paul’s point of view, it’s the right thing to do.  And in the end, maybe that’s really the guide to interpretation.  Maybe it’s more about conscience than it is about facts.  After all, facts seem to be the result of the paradigm, don’t they?  Maybe reading Paul’s letters requires just as much examination of our own conscience as it does recalling history, linguistics, and doctrine.

Topical Index: tacha, perhaps, who knows, paradigms, Philemon 1:15

[1] Ludwig Wittgenstein, On Certainty, sections 12 and 83.

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Richard Bridgan

👍🏻 Indeed! The hermeneutic of conscience… “I thought I knew”… (Thank you yet again, Skip, for today’s double blessing.)