Whosoever Will

Reflections on Determinism and Human Freedom

In a discussion about the problem of free will and the nature of salvation, especially in a Christian context, the discussion parties need clarity about the real problem set before them. The question pertains not to the compatibility of divine sovereignty and human freedom, rather to whether we can make sense of the idea that human freedom and causal determinism are compatible. Libertarians, that is, persons who do not think that freedom and determinism are compatible, defend the view that “some human actions are chosen and performed by the agent without there being any sufficient condition or cause of the action prior to the action itself.”¹ For libertarianism, in order for a person to be free, certain conditions must be present, namely, that genuine alternatives are open to the person while deliberating on a course of action, no coercion is present, and the person is still deemed free. Libertarian views of freedom focus on the person (i.e., a personal agent) and take seriously the idea that in the nexus of events the agent is a contributing cause of certain things (not necessarily all) that happen. Libertarian freedom holds that the person is a cause, does certain things, and does not merely undergo a series of events. For example, suppose when I return to visit friends in New Orleans, they take me out to my favorite New Orleans restaurant. At lunch I deliberate over what I will eat and eventually choose the paneed chicken pasta, as I have many times before. While I deliberate about ordering chicken pasta, at least two options avail themselves: either I will or will not order it. After making that decision, several options arise (e.g., if I choose not to eat the paneed chicken, I then deliberate over what I, in fact, will eat—perhaps catfish Lafayette). This example illustrates (not perfectly) the libertarian view that in order for people to be free, genuine options must be open to them as agents.² If people’s choices are determined either from external or internal causes, then they cannot claim in any meaningful sense that the choices were free. Both internal and external factors influence their decisions but do not determine them. Hence, libertarians describe causal determinism and human freedom as incompatible.

Determinists respond to the problem of free will in a different way. Generally speaking, determinism claims that for every event that happens “there are previous events and circumstances which are its sufficient conditions or causes, so that, given those previous events and circumstances, it is impossible that the event should not occur.”³ If we return to my deliberation at the New Orleans restaurant, the determinist will claim that factors beyond my control govern my decision to choose or not choose the paneed chicken pasta. Thus, due to any number of psychological causes, strongest desires, or other determining factors, my decision at the restaurant is causally necessary. So how can a compatibilist claim that my decision is relegated from internal and external causes but that I am still free in a meaningful way? Robert Kane explains that at this point the determinist will ask people what they mean by saying actions or choices are free—for example, free to eat the paneed chicken pasta. For those holding to determinism, the first condition of freedom is that I am free to order paneed chicken if I have the power or ability to choose it, should I want or decide to do so.⁴ Indeed, freedom does require a power or ability to choose a course of action, or this may be a power I choose not to exercise. The second condition for a compatibilist understanding of freedom is that there are no constraints or impediments “preventing me from doing what I want to do.”⁵ I would not be free to eat paneed chicken if circumstances prevented me from doing so—for example, due to time constraints, we did not have the time to travel to the restaurant, or if I had a sudden attack of paralysis, or if the restaurant were not open on that day. As long as I have the ability to eat paneed chicken and no constraints prevent me from choosing the paneed chicken, then from a compatibilist perspective, I am free regarding that decision.

How does this view of freedom differ from the libertarian account of freedom briefly explained above? First, neither of these two conditions stipulates that genuine alternatives are required for the agent to be free. If we suppose that the restaurant is open, that I do not suffer from paralysis or a tight speaking schedule, and I want to eat paneed chicken, then I am free to do so. Further, I am still considered to be free in compatibilism even if the past determines what I will or desire. So, even though this construal of human freedom affirms that determinism is true, it finds no problem in saying that human freedom is compatible with determinism. As it were, although my desires are beyond my direct control (in fact, they control me), they are still my desires. Often this kind of freedom is called freedom of inclination, where I can do whatever I want but have no power over my wants. I am free insofar as I am unhindered in exercising these desires through choices. Admittedly, this strand of “compatibilism” is one of many,⁶ but it will be the center of our discussion in this chapter since it dominates the landscape of theological thought on the problem set before us.

Is compatibilism, or theological determinism as some call it, the best way to understand free will both biblically and philosophically? Calvinists answer in the affirmative, and libertarians are less than convinced. This chapter aims to provide some thoughts on why endorsing a strong Calvinist view of human freedom is unnecessary even when taking the problem of sin seriously. Again, I affirm the comprehensive sovereignty of God, which is compatible with human freedom, and deny the claim that determinism is compatible with human freedom.⁷ The structure of this paper does not attempt to make one long connected argument against Calvinism; it offers food for thought ranging over a number of issues, hopefully providing some insight for future discussion and reference. Hence, this chapter has the title “Reflections on Determinism and Human Freedom.”

A Brief Treatment of Sin and Its Effects—Biblically and Historically

Most Christians affirm that Adam’s sin drastically altered the course of human events; it altered humanity and the natural world. One of the supposed alterations occurred in the nature of human agency, the problem of free will. In light of the fall of Adam, the effects of sin on human agency must receive serious consideration—is it within everyone’s capacity to accept the offer of salvation in Christ, given the radical change in human character and environment? After all, Scripture describes humanity after the fall as spiritually dead (Eph 2:1) and unable to accept the things of the Spirit of God, which are spiritually discerned (1 Cor 2:14). Further, unbelievers are under a yoke of slavery to sin (Gal 5:1), gratifying the desires of the flesh (Gal 5:16). Understandably, the greatest sin is the rejection of what God has accomplished in Christ via His passion and resurrection (Mark 3:28; 1 John 5:16–17). Scripture categorizes this last sin as unpardonable, yielding eternal judgment (Rom 6:23). In short, human beings are in need of grace and salvation.

Given this short sketch of the human condition, seeing how one might endorse determinism is not hard. The doctrine of the perversity and universality of sin⁸ cannot be denied. “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way” (Isa 53:6).⁹ We find in Proverbs: “Who can say ‘I have made my heart pure; I am clean from my sin’?” (Prov 20:9). Consider the affirmation in Ecclesiastes: “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins” (Ecc 7:20). In his sermon on Mars Hill, the apostle Paul made a universal appeal for sinners to come to repentance: “The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17:30–31). So serious are the consequences of the fall, Jesus tells Nicodemus that unless one is “born of the Spirit” or “born again” he cannot enter the kingdom of God (John 3:5–8). Jesus even speaks of our being slaves to sin: “Truly, truly I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:34–36; italics mine). Certainly, more can be said about the problem of sin, but consideration of the implications of sin on human beings’ ability to choose God next will receive attention. More specifically, is human depravity so comprehensively destructive in both human minds and wills that we must affirm a complete inability to understand and accept Jesus?¹⁰

Armed with biblical narrative describing humans as self-seeking and in need of deliverance from the bondage of sin, Bruce Ware concludes:

Probably the single most important biblical conception relating to the question of human freedom is the notion that we human beings perform our choices and actions out of what we desire in our hearts. That is, what we want most, what our natures incline us most strongly to—this is the pool out of which the stream of our choices and actions flows.¹¹

Consider the claims of Augustine in his influential work Grace and Free Choice (426 CE):

But clearly, once grace has been given, our good merits also begin to exist, but through that grace. For, if grace is withdrawn, a human being falls, no longer standing upright, but cast headlong by free choice. Hence, even when a human being begins to have good merits, he ought not attribute them to himself, but to God.¹²

Interestingly, Augustine does not claim here that humanity’s affections are determined from forces beyond their direct control. Later in the same work, he claims that it is “certain that we will when we will, but God causes us to will what is good” (16.32; italics mine), and says, “I think I have argued enough against those who violently attack the grace of God which does not destroy the human will, but changes it from an evil will to a good will, and once it is good, helps it” (20.41). Moreover, Augustine not only holds that persons of good will have that good will from above, but he also implies that God’s will controls the wills of those who do evil as well. Although he writes in Grace and Free Will, “The almighty produces in the hearts of human beings even the movement of their will in order to do through them what he himself wills to do through them, he who absolutely cannot will anything unjust” (21.42), this sentiment is predicated on an earlier statement that God “does what he wills even in the hearts of evil persons, repaying them, nonetheless, according to their merits” (21.42). Some instances of God causing evil wills (notes Augustine) are the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart and the betrayal of Christ by Judas (20.41).

These previous statements are hard to reconcile with Augustine’s earlier works, where he seemingly taught that the voluntary movement of the will is required for any meaningful account of personal responsibility.¹³ By “voluntary” he seems to mean the content of people’s will that is not made through “some violence which compels against one’s will” or an “irresistible cause” (3.18). Nonetheless, Augustine later saw that if he commends a view of human freedom that is deterministic, then certain results follow from this commitment. Concerning the darkened mind, God illuminates it to understand who He is and what He has done in the person and work of Jesus. As for the will, the illumination of the mind enables the will to choose that which is truly good (God), for after humans understand what the true good is, and insofar as they choose according to perceived goods, they then choose God.

John Calvin, in his famous Institutes of the Christian Religion, concurs with Augustine, noting that in Adam human beings all lost their original abilities and can do nothing good (2.2.1).¹⁴ As Calvin describes it, the effects of sin are exhaustive; nothing remains of the imago Dei (2.1.9), including the original freedom that He endowed to Adam for its proper use.¹⁵ Though people’s sinful nature compels them to choose all and only evil, they still sin voluntarily. So long as the relationship is one of constraint on humans’ ability and not necessitating what humans choose, then they are significantly free and morally responsible (2.3.5; 2.2.6). As a counterpart explanation, Calvin argues that God Himself, being perfectly good, cannot do anything but the good (His nature demands that He act only in ways that are good). Again, persons may be morally praised or blamed so long as they act freely, where freedom is to be understood as choosing according to one’s greatest desire.¹⁶

Irresistible Grace/Effectual Calling: Biblically and Logically Unnecessary

Classical compatibilism leads to the idea that when God works a saving grace in persons’ hearts, they will come to faith in Jesus. As the mantra affirms, regeneration precedes faith. This relationship is intended to be understood logically, not temporally. Temporally, the cause and effect relationship occurs simultaneously; logically, regeneration occurs before faith. The mechanism of God’s saving work is the inner call to man, which is a special call to the elect that elicits the gifts of faith and repentance. Sometimes this view is referred to as the effectual call, as opposed to the “outer” or “general” call to everyone unto faith and repentance.¹⁷ According to Calvin, the Holy Spirit “causes the preached Word to dwell in their hearts.”¹⁸ The manner of God’s activity in such a work is irresistible, hence often referred to as irresistible grace. The famous Calvinist R. C. Sproul notes, “We do not believe in order to be born again; we are born again in order to believe.”¹⁹

On the face of it, such a view may appear to have biblical support. In John 6:44, Jesus says that “no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” Traditionally, in order to solidify this point, the word for draw is equated with being “dragged” (helkuo). Admittedly, in some instances, the word has this exact meaning (see Jas 2:6), but in matters of salvation the picture is not so clear. James was not speaking of salvation but of the sin of partiality; hence, these are different categories with different applications. To clarify the point, Jesus, speaking of His crucifixion, says, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw (helkuo) all people to myself” (John 12:32). This text is about Christ’s saving work, which falls in the same category as what is found in John 6:44. The difference between John 6:44 and 12:32 is not the term draw but whether to understand it as “being dragged.” Extending the application of Jesus’ statement in 12:32—He draws all people to Himself—produces Christian Universalists, but this conclusion will not work with any number of passages that indicate most people will not enjoy eternal beatitude with God (Matt 7:13).

Richard Cross asks, “Suppose we do adopt . . . that there can be no natural active human cooperation in justification. Would such a position require us to accept the irresistibility of grace?”²⁰ Cross gives us reason to think not. Consider his example:

Suppose . . . I wake up to find myself traveling in an ambulance. Suppose too that I have, all the time that I am conscious of being in the ambulance, the option to not be there. Perhaps I can simply ask the driver to stop and let me out. If I do not do this, then I do not impede the action that is done to me—being brought to the hospital, or whatever. But—by the same token—I do not causally contribute to it, other than counterfactually (i.e. by not impeding it). Does not impeding a amount to wanting or doing a? Not generally, given the coherence of the notion of an interior act of will, for given this it is possible to accept that there are many things that I, for example, neither impede nor want—even in the case that I can impede them. If I do not do something, I remain in the ambulance. But it would be odd to describe this as a case of my going to the hospital (as opposed to my being brought there).²¹

The analogy is clear and certainly applies to our discussion. Strong Calvinism cornered the market on monergism as entailing irresistible grace, but Cross’s model offers an account of monergism and resistible grace. In doing so, it overcomes many of the concerns traditionally ascribed to synergism. If the only contribution humans make in salvation is negative, then this contribution can hardly be considered an act worthy of praise—in fact, it hinders God’s activity to bring humans to a right relationship with Him. Instead, believers receive no personal credit, for in and through the work of God, the persons come to repentance and faith.

As previously noted, libertarian accounts of freedom require that ultimate responsibility must rest on the agent in some way and that morally this requires that at some point the agent had it within his or her ability to choose otherwise. This account of saving grace means the only contribution the person makes is not of positive personal status, as strands of Pelagianism and Semi-Pelagianism hold. Indeed, the work done in salvation is wrought by God (Eph 2:8–9) and does not result from the individual’s “pulling himself up by his own bootstraps.” The believer’s faith is a gift freely given from above and does not reside in any natural capacity of the person (Phil 1:28–29). Holding to monergism and resistible grace also helps explain how God desires that none perish (1 Tim 2:3). Last, a more promising ordering of events obtains. Rather than saying a new life leads to a saving faith, a saving faith brings about new life. Jesus provides forgiveness of sins for those who believe in Him (Acts 13:38); the one who hears the words of Christ and believes passes from death to life (John 5:24). Notice that the verse does not say “the one who passes from death to life believes” but the “one who believes passes from death to life.” The New Testament is replete with other instances where new life is brought from faith (John 20:31; 1 Tim 1:16). Suffice it to say, even holding to monergism does not biblically or logically entail that irresistible grace necessarily follows.

The rest of the chapter will give some attention to other concerns that surround endorsing classical compatibilism as a viable model of free will in Christian theism. The scope of these objections centers all and only on views that replicate ideologically the tenets explained before in the writings of Augustine, Calvin, and Edwards.

The Responsibility Objection

In an attractive way, compatibilism provides sufficient conditions (or causes) to explain why one event occurs rather than another. Further, since the cause of persons’ choices are derived from their character, this account of freedom does not undermine personal responsibility. Thus, the important question to ask is, “What are the sources of these sufficient conditions?” Consider my choosing paneed chicken pasta. All of the conditions for responsible action are met. Nothing forced me to choose paneed chicken; I ordered it because I wanted to do so. According to determinism, immediately before I chose the paneed chicken, a series of events and circumstances occurred such that they guarantee my choosing paneed chicken. These events and circumstances are the “proximate causes” of my choice.²² My desire to have paneed chicken conjoined with my belief that I could have it brought about by my choosing it. So where did this desire and belief come from? Both are the byproduct of previous causes, for “since every event, according to determinism, has prior sufficient causes, we can go on tracing the chain of causes backward until we have arrived at a set of events and circumstances which together constitute a sufficient condition for the occurrence of the proximate cause.”²³ Pressing the concern one step further, all of this occurred before I was born, and as for sin, this may be traced in our human lineage back to Adam.

These distinctions prepare for considering the implications of causation on personal responsibility. If grounding moral responsibility on the immediate cause of the event appears sufficient, then clearly the determinists have made their case. The wishes, desires, objectives, or intentions of the agent explain the immediate cause of the action. The concern is whether the agent is responsible for the prior cause(s), not the immediate cause. The moral corollary then shifts from “is Judas responsible for his rejection of Jesus” to “is Judas responsible for the events that determined his rejection of Jesus?” How Judas could be responsible for the prior cause, given that he did not exist when the causal loop was being formed, is difficult to see.²⁴ Judas’s act of betrayal was causally necessitated by circumstances grounded in prior causes, to which he made no contribution at all. Where there is no contribution, there is no moral responsibility.

The best scenario a determinist can offer is that punishment becomes one link in the causal chain of human behavior—in effect becoming a prior cause of future intention formation and choosing. But this construal does not help our discussion on matters of salvation because the only future referent open to this discussion is in glory, when the effects of our choices are rendered unto judgment. So I concur with Robert Kane, that ultimate responsibility (UR) resides where the ultimate cause is.²⁵ If I am never the original force behind my choices, then I am not responsible for the contents of my choices. At some point in the causal chain, I must have contra-causal freedom (the ability to do otherwise). My responsibility for my current volitional state may be the result of previous decisions that I have made, character-forming decisions that perhaps narrowed the likelihood that I would ever choose differently in the course of my natural life. My previous choices as a part of the narrative of personal responsibility are significant. Only then can prior causes become connected with current choices (immediate causes), and personal responsibility makes sense. According to Kane, so long as the agent’s current decision has some standing to a previous free decision, then persons are ultimately responsible for their current decisions.

The Emptiness Objection

Is there any evidence that humans always choose according to their greatest desires as Calvinism states? Some passages of Scripture indicate otherwise. Paul says, “For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate,” and “I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out” (Rom 7:15,18). One might claim that this passage is about Paul’s sanctification and not about his salvation since clearly he was already saved. But this argument misses the point. The strong Calvinist’s claim hinges on the notion of complete psychological determinism—that humans always act on their strongest desires or motives. Otherwise, no sufficient reason can account for choosing one course of action rather than another. The normal response to this concern is that humans misperceive what their greatest desire or strongest motive actually is. Concerning Paul’s desires, compatibilists have two possibilities. First, they can remain true to their position and explain Paul’s choosing against what he wants as Paul’s misunderstanding what his strongest desire actually was. Rather than taking Paul as saying, “I have the desire to do what is right,” he must have meant, “But I have a greater desire for something else.” Clearly, however, Scripture does not make this statement but provides the opposite one—he does the things he hates.

In addition, this proposal reduces the strongest motive as the motive leading to action, which results in the trivial claim that we “always act on the motive which we act upon.”²⁶ Not only is this proposal uninformative; it is also question-begging. No element of this discussion has been reducible to self-evident propositions about human willing and action, but strong Calvinists make this exact move—determinism becomes a rational truth, on par with “all bachelors are unmarried men.” Stipulating that strongest motive governs action is a far cry from proving it.

The second option for the compatibilist (which I will not give much attention) is to shift views of agency midstream and argue that after salvation God works with (synergism) our wills in sanctification but does not causally control our wills. Instances such as Romans 7 may suffice to ground such a claim—that internal and external factors influence people’s decisions without determining them. Experience also gives reason to make such a claim. Although justification is complete in Christ, humans continue to work out their salvation with fear and trembling (Phil 2:12). Humans continue to sin, though they are not under the curse of sin. However, attendant with this shift in agency are all of the concerns that supposedly plague it. The same compatibilists who argue that libertarian freedom fails to supply a sufficient cause or reason now must provide a response to their own objections. What is more, if they explain how to choose between alternative courses of action, then they have undermined their previous claim that no such reason(s) for human willing exist in a libertarian construct. I await anxiously their contribution to our discussion on sanctification.

The Self-Sufficient God?

God is worthy of worship. He is the self-sufficient, self-existent Creator of every contingent being. The Triune God lacks nothing and requires no other to fulfill or explain the completeness of His being. In fact, the Trinity has at its disposal great power to explain how God may be understood as self-sufficient and independent. Before creation the Trinity exemplified a unity of will and purpose, loving-kindness, and even justice from one member to the next. These relational properties were expressed with perfection and depended on no other to be manifest in His nature. Our commitment to the self-sufficiency of God is without compromise. However, according to James Beilby, the Calvinist assertion that God’s fundamental purpose in creation is to “demonstrate his glory” seems to “entail that God have an ‘other’ to whom his glory must be demonstrated.”²⁷ As Beilby notes, if this relationship is the case, then God is dependent in some sense “on this other for the demonstration of his glory, and ironically, less sovereign than in a theology where the demonstration of God’s glory is less central.”²⁸ The heart of the problem is that this dependence relationship not only undermines the claim that Calvinism best explains what God’s sovereignty and glory means, but it also threatens a pivotal theological belief—God’s aseity (self-existence).

Beilby distinguishes two types of aseity. The first type is ontological aseity, which affirms that “God is uncaused, without beginning, not dependent on external person, principle, or metaphysical reality for his existence.”²⁹ The second type of aseity is psychological aseity; there is no lack or need in God. God is “fully self-satisfied, not needing anything outside himself to be happy or fulfilled.”³⁰

Making this distinction underlines what is truly advantageous to Trinitarian theology. Given the Trinity, God did not need creation to fulfill anything lacking in Him (psychological aseity). Without creation, the Father, Son, and Spirit held a relational unity that was perfect, not only in loving-kindness but in justice as well. Justice needs mentioning because much can be made of the idea that humans are “vessels of wrath” and that making the fullness of God’s properties known requires that He manifest both His mercy and His wrath. But this suggestion misconstrues what Scripture means by God’s wrath. Wrath is not one of God’s properties; justice is. Wrath is only a manifestation of what justice demands. If humans freely reject Jesus, then God’s wrath falls rightly upon them (John 6:33); but there is no need for God to exemplify wrath in order for Him to be perfectly just. Justice existed before creation in the Trinity; hence God does not need any human to be fully satisfied in His justice.

But another problem lingers after challenging the self-satisfaction of God. If God needs creation to exemplify these properties, then humans can rightly question whether God was free in His act of creation. Divine aseity logically requires that God’s choice to create the world be free. But discerning how God can be free to create or not create is hard if we posit that in creating He was intending to accomplish the task of bringing glory to Himself, a task that He cannot accomplish without creation.³¹ Beilby rightly notes that no tension exists between divine aseity and our purpose in creation to give glory to God, or even for God to be glorified by His creation.³² Each of these concepts is right. God’s glory was complete without creation; nothing that occurs in creation can add to or take away from His perfection and holiness. He does not gain glory when He is praised—His glory is recognized in praise. Humans should expect as much when they recognize that their chief end in life is to know and enjoy God. Indeed, a tension does exist between “aseity and the claim that God’s purpose in creating was to bring glory to himself.”³³

The more pressing aspect of this issue concerns God’s freedom. Consider the previous discussion about God’s psychological aseity. Divine aseity requires that God’s decision to create must be free from either internal or external governing factors. Given God’s status as the only self-existent being, pinpointing any external cause that could determine His act of creation would be difficult. Determining internal factors requires understanding that the completeness and perfection of God’s being keeps the notion at bay that something is being fulfilled in Him as He creates the world. Beilby correctly points out, “If it [creation] was internally necessitated, then God’s nature would be such that he needed to create the world to be who he was. By implication, while God has the capacity to create, being a creator is neither one of his essential properties nor is it entailed by any of his essential properties.”³⁴

At this point it simply will not do to say that God has the type of compatibilistic freedom mentioned in this discussion. If God is choosing according to His greatest desire, and something in His nature determines his greatest desire is to communicate His glory, then the revelation of God’s glory in creation is internally determined, and His self-sufficiency is once again undermined. By logical extension, if God’s act of creation is necessary, then every state of affairs in creation is also necessary.³⁵ Such concerns are more than a nuisance; they challenge the concept of the perfection of God. But there are further implications that deserve consideration.

On the Is/Ought Principle and the Best Possible World

Something has gone wrong in creation. To sin means to miss the mark, to fall short of perfection, or to fail to meet an obligation. In biblical terms, sin deceives (Heb 3:13), which indicates that the human mind is not as it should be. Sin is also described as doing what is morally wrong (Ps 51:4); humans do not do the things they ought to do (Romans 7). Sin is not merely a condition that humans have, it is something humans do, and de facto involves a failure on their part to meet a standard of evaluation. Sin indicates the world is not as it should be.

Emphasis lies on the words should and ought because they are normative terms; they do not merely describe events; and this distinction brings up an interesting problem for the Reformed view of the will. To state the problem concisely, anyone who wants to grant God the type of sovereignty proposed by strong Calvinism, which is a causal account of human willing and acting, yet wants to say that the world is not as it should be (sin) is under a particular burden to explain how they can make these claims in conjunction with one another.³⁶ To avoid issues less than crucial, let us focus on the rejection of God. As previously noted, the condition of fallen man is one of separation from God. Further, as Augustine, Calvin, and Edwards claim, without the assistance of God, human beings are unable to come to accept Jesus as Lord and Savior. Given their commitment to irresistible grace, the only viable conclusion for them to make concerning why persons reject Christ is that God chose not to work a saving grace in their hearts.

Why did God not work a saving grace in their hearts? Admittedly, Calvinists typically defer to the distinction between the sovereign and moral wills of God, and postulate that human beings can only know the moral will of God—those principles of Scripture that govern our moral well-being, and commands uttered to bring about actions of positive moral value. The sovereign will of God remains a mystery. Why He chose some for salvation and not others is a mystery. But this suggestion raises an interesting point. On biblical grounds the rejection of God is a moral failure, and the conditions under which human beings make amends with Him are met in Jesus. None of these ideas are mysterious. An argument might be raised that since human beings are dead in Adam, God did not cause humans’ rejection per se, and any act of grace on His part (even on one person) displays His loving-kindness. Further, God has no obligations to save any person, and so all the more the gratuity of His saving work.

Perhaps such claims have merit if only God were free. When Augustine, Calvin, and Edwards proposed that God’s works were of necessity, the implications go beyond His determined act of creation but must also be applied to the persons He elected to regenerate unto faith. That God has no obligation to save is not the point. That God could not have elected otherwise is the point. On this Thomas Flint offers a helpful suggestion, that when humans deny that God has libertarian freedom, and He creates because He has to, then the human world is the only possible world. As a result, the contrasts between contingency and necessity are absolved, and along with it the graciousness of His creation and our existence.³⁷

The second point relates to the first but centers on a discussion about Best Possible Worlds (henceforth BPWs). Much could be said about BPWs, but in general, of the array of possible worlds available to God before He created, one of the worlds is the best. The strong Calvinist view claims the present world is the BPW. As the writings of Augustine and Calvin have displayed, God’s involvement in the events of the world is a direct byproduct of His willing them to be exactly as they are; the salvation of Peter and not Judas is unilaterally derived from the decree and causal control of God. Moreover, every last detail of the universe goes into making the cosmos exactly as God intended it to be. If God’s sovereignty and control are taken as exhaustive, this world cannot be anything other than the BPW; any other world would indicate that God acted in a way that manifests His attributes with deficiency. So, even though there may conceivably be an array of worlds that God could have created, He is morally constrained to create the best. What is more, if every detail of creation goes into making the portrait of the BPW, then any change would mean less than the best. If this suggestion is the case, then it becomes difficult to determine how the strong Calvinist can say that certain things that are, ought not to be, which includes sin. If God’s providence governs causally down to the last detail (as the strong Calvinist insists), and we say the world is not as it ought to be (which is conceptually entailed by sin, and in this case the rejection of Jesus), then we are explicitly saying that God should not have caused the world to be as it is. Again, these ideas are not mysterious; they are contradictory.

One concern about the BPW issue still remains. Suppose one argues, along the lines of Ephesians 1 and Romans 9, that God’s directing of the course of human events exactly as He does is good because that direction manifests all aspects of His glory, including His wrath. This direction may not avoid the BPW issues discussed in the previous section. If it is best for the wrath to be manifest and if sin is a necessary condition for wrath, then ultimately sin ought to be in the BPW. If one denies that a best possible world exists, this concern still does not go away. Even if it is good for God’s wrath to be manifest, and sin is necessary for wrath, sin still ought to be in the world, even though it is not the BPW. Even if one could prove that no explicit contradiction has occurred, the relationships that are being simultaneously affirmed here are at best bizarre.

Speech-Acts and Calvinism ³⁸

The previous charge in Paul’s sermon on Mars Hill needs further consideration: “The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17:30–31, italics mine). In examining this passage, a good question to ask is, “What is the relationship between God’s will and His commands?” Undoubtedly, He has commanded humans to repent, that they are to move from their state of unbelief to one of belief (Heb. 11:6). Yet this brings up an interesting question for the Calvinist: if God has willed to pass over many of the lost to enable them in belief, what sense can be made of His commanding their repentance and belief, especially knowing that He has not enabled them to believe? Earlier this discussion centered on the is/ought principle. People rightly wonder how they are responsible for something that they cannot do (ought implies can). This section will draw attention to issues involving divine discourse, more specifically the implications of Calvinism on speech-acts.

To do this task, what speech-act theory proposes must be understood. Generally speaking, discourse between persons involves more than words but includes actions (or proposed actions) built into the contents of the words. Through speech people can inform, command, persuade, or do any number of things. Pertinent to this discussion on biblical imperatives is realizing what God commands must have a logical connection with what He intends to accomplish through His act of commanding—thus creating a difficulty for Reformed views of the will. In proper speech-act parlance, an utterance’s perlocution and illocution differ. Though the discussion is nuanced, the illocution will be treated as the speaker’s intention that is revealed in his speech, and the perlocution as the effect or intended effect of the speech on the speaker and/or the listener.³⁹

With this in mind, consider God’s commands to repent and believe. If God has inspired the words of Scripture to reveal His salvation plan, then it is reasonable to believe that He intends in each of these commands to bring about an action of morally positive status for the one to whom the command is directed—He intended to command human beings to repent. People use commands to motivate other persons to act, namely to do that which they were not going to do but that they should be doing. Luke clearly says that God has commanded everyone to repent. For whom is this command morally binding? Biblically, the answer is everyone. But when a line of thought akin to Calvinism is followed, every last detail of creation manifests the purposes and sovereign control of God, including the damnation of some for His good pleasure.⁴⁰ How then are human beings to understand the imperatives quoted above, where it seems God has commanded something (repentance and faith from everyone) that He has not willed? The only tenable suggestion is that a wedge splits God’s commands from His will, and human beings are morally accountable for the content of God’s will and not His commands.

What grounds such a claim? The illocution is the speaker’s intention in the performative utterance. When God commands repentance, He is intending to speak the truth of people’s need to turn their hearts toward Him. But clearly this turning involves more on people’s part than mental assent; it involves a complete change in the perspective on the real meaning of life. To love God means hating what is evil, holding Him in a unique place of esteem (the perlocution). Consider how this applies to our previous discussion on the general and special calls of God. The general call, as previously discussed, is given to every hearer of the gospel, but the special call is an inward call directed only to the elect. In essence, the message, though with two distinct divine illocutions, is the same. If God elects some to salvation, then He does not intend for His speech to change the moral standing of non-elect persons before Him. According to Calvinism, God elects some to salvation. Therefore, God does not intend for His speech to change the moral standing of non-elect persons before Him.

Imagine a 1970s Billy Graham crusade where 50,000 people fill Shea Stadium in New York. Suppose 5,000 receive a special call, and 45,000 receive a general call. The message delivered was the same in content (probably John 3:16); the only difference was how God intended each of the hearers to understand what was said. From this example the implications on divine perlocution follow. God intended the elect to be illumined unto salvation; for the non-elect He did not intend a transforming work in their lives. The same message, but two divine perlocutions, was given.

This conclusion about the illocution of divine commands is particularly problematic, for if God commands in order to inform human beings and direct their steps away from sinful thoughts and actions, then, as expected, He intends to command human beings for the purpose of change. Not only is this postulate not true for Calvinism; it is equally true that God will still hold persons accountable for patterns of thought and action that He never intended to correct by His command. Indeed, if God knew that He had not elected many, then His intention in the illocution for the non-elect would not be for a corrective course of action. If divine commands are not intended to correct a course of thought and action, then the non-elect are not morally obligated to that course of action (God never intended them to change their status).

Admittedly, the thoughts in this section are not as fully orbed as desired—a fuller explanation goes beyond the space limits of this article. The fruits of this concern are particularly helpful in several areas. Most Calvinists use speech-act theory to ground their account of inspiration, especially those who hold to a verbal plenary theory of inspiration. One might object to the proposal here by altering the model of divine discourse, for example, from speech-acts to expressionism, but such a move would be unwise. It would undermine the most profitable model of speech available and would undo most accounts of how human beings have the inspired Word of God. Here the prevailing model of Reformed theorists has been used, so the foundation of his inquiry is not ad hoc. In this section the relationship between God’s intention in speaking and God’s intended effects in His speech is open for discussion, especially as it concerns the doctrine of election. Elements of this concern pertaining to this key doctrine have not been adequately addressed.⁴¹

This essay has as its aim to elicit concerns about Reformed views of the will and provide food for thought as to why it should be reconsidered. A positive model of divine discourse awaits non-Reformed theorists—and I am refraining here from arriving at libertarianism simply because Reformed theology is found inadequate to explain human willing and action. A positive model must be provided for the libertarian model, but such a task will be left for another time. Suffice it to say that if Richard Cross’s model of monergism and resistible grace receives consideration, then the problem in divine discourse is prima facie less pressing. When Billy Graham preaches at Shea Stadium, the call of God is to all persons equally, so the issue of special and general calls has no purchase. No finessing is required between the illocution and perlocution. God intends to command the listeners to repent, effecting a complete change in the heart of the hearer toward the saving message of our Lord Jesus.

Conclusion

The issues addressed in this chapter are significant, and undoubtedly this work will not be the last on the topic at hand. Sincere believers who love the Lord and serve Him diligently may be found on both sides of the aisle (or walking down the middle of the aisle). We cannot afford to lose our bearings on issues of primary significance. When it comes to the topic of Calvinism, the discussion is in-house (within the church); believers need to consider these issues because even a cursory reading of God’s Word elicits the questions discussed here. Passages like the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart or concepts like predestination and election simply cannot be avoided. All of these, and more, permeate Scripture and beg for explanation. For several reasons this discussion is an in-house one. First, persons who are not of the faith are not only generally disinterested in this issue but also can easily perceive it as another instance of Christian bickering and division. Attempting to discover the deeper matters of Scripture must not lead to forgetting the primary commands in them, namely to love God and one another (Matt 22:37). Difficult matters, whether personal or intellectual, must be handled with charity; but they must be handled. An approach can be direct, but it must be motivated out of love. Second, this discussion is for the church because it centers on how God works in salvation, not on who God has worked through to provide the necessary means of our salvation—Jesus. When we witness, the person of Christ is made much of. We lift up His sacrifice as the focus of our message and for good reason. We do not have to explain the mechanism of salvation when we witness, only the message of salvation to those who do not know Jesus as their Savior. These are practical concerns but concerns nonetheless.

This chapter has aimed to provide useful insight into the nature of human agency and the richness and texture of this problem. No matter which view of human freedom one espouses, problems will arise. In deterministic theories about human freedom, God’s relationship to sin and evil will always surface. Libertarians have their own demons to cast out, including providing a satisfactory treatment of the passages that Calvinists love to quote and on the surface seem to support their view.

I moved from a Reformed view of the will to a libertarian view during my time as a seminary student. Interestingly, the move occurred not because of my professors; most of my professors were admittedly Calvinists. Instead, I grew to consider libertarianism as the view with the least pressing problems ranging over the most significant areas of inquiry. It was hard enough reconciling determinism with a meaningful account of human freedom and even harder to understand how God, knowing that everyone is in need of a Savior, would not enable everyone to accept the offer of new life in Christ. I felt the intellectual transition away from Geneva was needed to avoid what I considered to be problems bigger than those faced by non-Reformed views of the will. Ken Keathley makes an excellent point here in his defense of Molinism (a libertarian view of freedom):

If Molinists have to appeal to mystery . . . they do so at a better and more reasonable point. I’d rather have the Molinist difficulty of not being able to explain how God’s omniscience operates than the Calvinist difficulty of explaining how God is not the author of sin. In other words, Molinism’s difficulties are with God’s infinite attributes rather than His holy and righteous character.⁴²

These same sentiments provided the impetus for my journey away from Geneva.

NOTES

1. W. Hasker, Metaphysics: Constructing a Worldview (Downer’s Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1983), 32. See also the excellent work of R. Kane, A Contemporary Introduction to Free Will (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 32–39.

2. Important note: this does not mean that alternate possibilities are required for every decision an agent makes. Libertarianism takes seriously the idea that our decisions shape our character and bring about a progressively narrowed range of possibilities when we persist in certain courses of decision making and action.

3. See Hasker, Metaphysics, 32. See also Kane, Contemporary Introduction, 12–23.

4. See Kane, Contemporary Introduction, 13.

5. Ibid.