In recent months, English actor and comedian Russell Brand has made headlines over multiple allegations of sexual assault and rape, all of which he has disputed. This is on the top of earlier allegations of drug abuse, battery and criminal damage. Judging by media reports, he’s not the kind of guy you’d want your daughter or granddaughter bringing home for Christmas dinner.
Then, in early 2024, Russell Brand announced his conversion to Christianity, culminating in his baptism in the River Thames, performed by fellow celebrity Bear Grylls. Brand says he felt a need for salvation after his self-constructed world crumbled, Referencing personal struggles, and a desire to move away from self-centeredness. He has adopted and evangelical Christian view, often quoting from the Bible and expressing a desire to pursue Christian morality.
Reactions are varied. Some have welcomed his apparent change of heart, while critics have suggested his conversion is a public relations tactic to assist him in his court battles.
Whatever you and I think, Brand is now a frequent speaker on Christian themes, including repentance and the experience of surrender to God. This week, Brand announced plans to release a Christian book titled, How to Become a Christian in 7 Days, while also revealing that he intends to run for Mayor of London in 2028.
Is this genuine spiritual change, street-smart reinvention, brazen leverage, or an as-yet unresolved personal quest for lasting peace? Whatever we make of the Russell Brand story, it raises the question: what does real spiritual transformation look like? What are its features?
The Christian answer is not a fresh mask, or learning the culture of a new club, but radical friendship with God that renews the spirit and reshapes how we relate to others through forgiveness and grace.
This is what Paul writes about in his Letter to Philemon. In just 25 verses, we encounter a living picture of the good news of Jesus at work, in relationship: a fractured bond, a returning offender, and an appeal grounded not in law but in love. And at the centre of it all, the profound joy of belonging to God, a joy strong enough to make reconciliation possible.
This short New Testament letter is an invitation to see what friendship with God looks like when the good news of the grace of God in Christ radically reconfigures the way we see the other. I have five points.
First, the gospel creates communities of love.
In the opening verses, Paul thanks God for Philemon, because his faith in Jesus is expressed in his love for “all the saints” (v. 5) – the Christian friends he meets every week, and those in networks further afield, extending even to Paul, now an old man behind bars in Rome (v. 7).
Faith and love are interwoven realities. Faith necessarily expresses itself in tangible acts of care, hospitality, and encouragement. And Paul hopes to receive such spiritual refreshment reciprocated (v. 20). The church is not merely a group of individuals who hold correct beliefs and enjoy the same style of music. the church is a living fellowship in which Jesus makes his presence visible in relationships.
The credibility of our theology is tested in the texture of our common life. Do others find their hearts refreshed through interactions with us? Or do they encounter distance, rivalry, indifference, hostility? The gospel takes social form, and how we treat one another matters. Ask yourself: “Am I a Philemon 7 person?”
Second, the gospel redefines leadership.
Writing with apostolic authority, Paul could command Philemon to do what is right. Instead, he appeals to him “on the basis of love.”
This is a subtle but significant shift. Leadership in the Christian community should not be about imposing one’s will, even when that will is justified. What the gospel seeks is a shared moral vision. Paul trusts that Philemon, formed by the gospel, will respond freely to what is good. This kind of leadership honours the conscience of the other, calling forth maturity rather than compliance, grace above duty.
In a world so accustomed to assertive and coercive power, and searching for grace, Jesus invites us to embrace a lifestyle in which influence flows through humility, patience, and relational vitality.
This applies to all of us. How often do we seek to win by pressure rather than by persuasion? The letter quietly exposes our instincts and challenges us to pursue the way of Jesus.
Third, the gospel transforms our identity.
At the centre of the letter stands the little-known character of Onesimus. His name means “useful,” yet Paul describes him as having once been “useless” (v. 11).
Something has changed. Through his encounter with Jesus, Onesimus has become genuinely useful, perhaps even indispensable. Onesimus is no longer defined by his past, his failure, or his social position. Paul calls him “my child,” suggesting spiritual rebirth and deep relational connection.
The gospel changes us. It renews us, reorients us, and integrates us into a new community. For some, this means release from shame; for others, it means relinquishing the labels others have imposed on them. This transformation is not something that happens at baptism or conversion. It is a lifelong process.
Do you really believe other people can change? Are you willing to rip off the unreasonable and unkind labels you have given them, and adopt a Jesus-perspective of those you don’t like?
Fourth, the gospel redefines our relationships.
Paul urges Philemon to receive Onesimus “no longer as a slave, but more than a slave, a beloved brother” (vv. 15-16a). The social structure remains outwardly intact, but the gospel gives Onesimus a new identity that relativises all other identities.
Onesimus is a slave. But if he is a brother in Christ, then he cannot be treated as mere property or a tool of trade. Philemon must honour him, listen to him, and embrace him as an equal. The categories that once governed the relationship have changed.
The good news of Jesus teaches us to see one another not through the lens of status, utility, or difference, but through our shared reality as part of a new community, the family of God.
This speaks to every context in which hierarchy, exclusion, or indifference devalues identity and diminishes human dignity. The church of Jesus Christ is called to be a community where the old patterns are gracefully and decisively undone.
Fifth, the gospel has power to enact reconciliation.
In the closing section, Paul offers to pay any debt Onesimus owes: “Charge it to me” (v. 18). This is not just a practical gesture on Paul’s part. It is a lived parable of the gospel of reconciliation. Paul steps into the space of brokenness and assumes personal responsibility for restoration.
Reconciliation is not achieved by sentiment or positive thinking. It requires the bearing of a cost, the absorbing of a loss, creating the conditions for a new beginning.
Paul’s simple statement reflects the ultimate reconciling work of Jesus, who reconciles us by taking upon himself the burden of our sins. And Onesimus is free to become the person God created him to be.
These five movements together form a coherent vision of the Christian life. The gospel creates communities of love, reshapes leadership, transforms identity, redefines relationships, and enacts reconciliation.
Where might this letter call us to change?
Are we people who refresh the hearts of others, or do we contribute to quiet fragmentation? The gospel invites us into intentional practices of encouragement, hospitality, and care.
Do we rely on authority, position, or force of personality, to make things happen? Or do we appeal, patiently and relationally, for what is good?
Perhaps this text calls us to revisit how we see ourselves and others. Perhaps there are identities we need to release—failures we have not let go, or judgments we continue to impose. The transformation of Onesimus reminds us that no life is fixed in its past.
Or perhaps this letter calls us to cross boundaries we have long accepted as sacrosanct. Who, in our world, is still seen as “less than”? What would it mean to welcome that person as a brother or sister?
Finally, Philemon calls us to the costly work of reconciliation. Is there a relationship marked by distance, resentment, or unresolved tension? The gospel invites us to take the initiative, with grace, trusting that in doing so we participate in the reconciling work of Christ.
And Russell Brand? What about him? Let me suggest that if Russell Brand, or someone like him, came to North Rocks Community Church,
I hope and pray that each one of us will have already done the difficult work of deconstructing our prejudices, overcoming our fears, and transforming our hearts so that we become gracious and hospitable hosts for people who in some ways are so different from us, and yet in other ways are so very like us.
This is the genius of the gospel, and of the local church, and of the way of Jesus.
Sermon 852 copyright © 2026 Rod Benson. Preached at North Rocks Community Church, Sydney, Australia, on Sunday 3 May 2026. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from The Christian Standard Bible (Nashville: Holman Bible Publishers, 2020).
Rev Dr Rod Benson is General Secretary of the NSW Ecumenical Council and a minister of the Uniting Church in Australia serving at North Rocks Community Church in Sydney.
Image source: Independent, 9 May 2024.
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