PREDESTINATION AND SALVATION
For evangelical Christians, perhaps more than anyone else, soteriology, or the doctrine of salvation, serves as the primary focus of concern to the faith. For good or ill, most other doctrines—arguably even Theology Proper (doctrine of God) and Christology (doctrine of Christ)—are examined with a view to how they clarify our understanding of salvation. This should not be surprising, since the good news of the Gospel has to do with the salvation effected in Christ.
Soteriology involves a number of issues, from questions related to the nature and purpose of the creation generally and humanity specifically, to God’s relationship with humanity taken corporately in his kingdom generally and covenants specifically, and taken individually with respect to personal guilt and forgiveness. Central to Christian soteriology is the cross of Christ, and when theologians speak of the cross, they most often mean to refer to atonement theory, or how Christ reconciles man to God. As Stott has said, “All inadequate doctrines of the atonement are due to inadequate doctrines of God and man.”1 There are several atonement theories; the six most prominent will be briefly surveyed in a generally historical order.
One of the earliest atonement theories emphasized the release believers experience from malevolent powers, conceived either in terms of death (Rom. 5:14; 8:2ff.) and sin (John 8:34; Rom. 7), or the Devil (John 12:31; Eph. 2:2). The theory usually incorporates the language of payment/purchase and redemption (1 Cor. 6:20; Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45), as well as Christ’s defeat of those evil powers. It has thus been referred to variously as the Christus Victor, Patristic, Classic, or Ransom to Satan theory.
Irenaeus of Lyons (ca. AD 140–202) seems to have been the first to articulate a theory of the atonement. His theory is normally associated with the concept of recapitulation and the principle that whatever God assumes is saved.2 In recapitulation, Christ has reworked those elements that led to the enslavement of humanity to sin, death, and the devil, and has fixed them in the incarnation, releasing humanity from that slavery.3
Perhaps the most dominant approach to the theme of release was to conceive of it as a payment or ransom paid to Satan. Gregory of Nyssa is representative of this viewpoint. According to Gregory, humanity sold itself into slavery (to Satan) by giving in to passion and lust, and God’s justice requires that he pay a price that Satan is willing to take for its rescue. The ransom paid would have to be more valuable than what was held, and since Christ is more valuable than humanity, if Satan were to take Jesus for men, he would gain. Yet because the Son was incarnate, Satan mistakenly thought he could contain him.4 Satan is described as a fish, caught when it goes for the bait. His own lust/hunger leads to his destruction. Jesus broke the hold Satan had on him by resurrection from the dead. Thus, Satan lost both humanity and Christ.
This method of saving humanity, Gregory argues, demonstrates God’s goodness, wisdom, and justice all at once. He anticipates some of the later objections, noting those who are concerned that God is portrayed as a deceiver make a category error. Instead of questioning the honesty of God, we should examine the justice and wisdom of the action. On both counts, God is found true. The action is just because it is giving Satan both what he is due and the same consideration he gave to humanity (tricked Eve). The action is wise because it is driven by love for humanity.
The second approach to atonement is most often called the Satisfaction theory. Tertullian (ca. AD 155–225) may have anticipated this theory when he spoke of the cross as a motivator for ethical conduct and repentance as compensatory toward God.5 Later, Anselm, the Archbishop of Canterbury (AD 1033–1109), developed the concept of satisfaction more fully. He found the idea of God paying Satan repugnant, as he believed the glory, honor, and power of God preclude him from being beholden to anyone. He also doubted Satan has legitimate power over humanity and thus concluded that payment language in salvation refers to God paying himself.
Anselm’s view is based in the idea that all men, in sinning, have failed to give God the honor and glory he deserves.6 God’s holiness and justice require that his offended honor be restored by humanity (who offended it), but no man can do so because all have taken some away, and all honor is due God. In addition, since the creation is in need of redemption, satisfaction must be made by someone greater than all things, because the payment must be greater than what it redeems, but nothing is greater than everything that exists except God. This results in a dilemma: a debt is owed by humans, but only God can satisfy it, and he cannot simply forgive sin without payment because his holiness and justice require that his honor be satisfied. Since it is man that sinned and must make satisfaction, but only God can do so, satisfaction must be made by a God-man (the God-man). Anselm writes, “If it be necessary, therefore, as it appears, that the heavenly kingdom be made up of men, and this cannot be effected unless the aforesaid satisfaction be made, which none but God can make and none but man ought to make, it is necessary for the God-man to make it.”7
Peter Abelard (AD 1079–1142) argued for what has come to be called the Moral Influence theory of the atonement. He claims that the primary attribute of God is love, and that this supreme love is demonstrated in the incarnation and passion of Jesus. This leads to a faith and love response from humanity resulting in reconciliation. This view is best understood as a reaction against Anselm’s satisfaction theory. Abelard complained that Anselm’s approach does not adequately address the love of God so central to the cross, and instead relies on sheer logic. He also thinks the Satisfaction theory is confused and an offense to God’s justice.8
So, in answer to the question, “Why did the Son have to die?” Abelard seems to answer, “in order to fully identify with humanity.”9 In Jesus's identification with humanity, an example to be followed was given, but it is the demonstration of divine love that objectively changes our dispositions towards God by a work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts. He elicits a love response to God, and it is here that the atonement finds expression: “Wherefore, our redemption through Christ’s suffering is that deeper affection in us which not only frees us from slavery to sin, but also wins for us the true liberty of sons of God, so that we do all things out of love rather than fear—love to him who has shown us such grace that no greater can be found, as he himself asserts, saying, ‘Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’”10 So the Moral Influence theory includes both subjective and objective elements.
The view of the atonement most popular among evangelical Christians has been the Penal Substitution theory. At its most basic, the theory sees Christ’s death as the means by which the Son took upon himself the punishment of death that humans rightly deserve as a result of their sins. Jesus was punished (penal) in our place (substitution).11 Demarest rightly describes it:
According to this view sin, which is primarily a violation of God’s law, not his honor, results in the just penalty of death. But in love Jesus Christ, our substitute, in his life perfectly fulfilled the law and in death bore the just penalty for our sins. Expressed otherwise, on the cross Christ took our place and bore the equivalent punishment for our sins, thereby satisfying the just demands of the law and appeasing God’s wrath. As repentant sinners appropriate Christ’s vicarious sacrifice by faith, God forgives sins, imputes Christ’s righteousness, and reconciles the estranged to himself.12
Since all persons have sinned and have corrupt natures as a result of the Fall, all persons stand under condemnation. The Old Testament sacrificial system points to the means by which the wrath of God is appeased; the proper punishment for sin is death (Rom. 6:23), and God may be propitiated by the shedding of blood of an innocent in place of the guilty party. This is exactly what the New Testament claims of Christ (Heb. 9:22). He died in the place of guilty humanity and averted the wrath of God from those who are united with him through faith.
John Calvin, who clearly set forth the Penal Substitutionary view, noted that the transactional nature of the atonement points not only to an averting of divine wrath in the death of Christ, but also a transfer of guilt from sinners to Christ, as well as a transfer of his righteousness to those who trust in him by faith. Calvin also saw significance in the means of Christ’s condemnation: he was condemned as guilty by a human court, which points to the judicial nature of his death, yet he was proclaimed innocent by Pilate, which points to the fact that he died in the place of others. The means of Christ’s death is also significant: The cross was cursed (in the opinion of men and by God’s Law), which points to the transfer of guilt; Christ became sin for sinful humanity (Gal. 3:13).
Calvin is quick to point out that, while the cross removed our guilt, there is more to salvation than mere forgiveness. The power of death also had to be defeated since all humans remain in its grasp. Christ conquered it by first allowing himself to be subject to it and then by resurrecting from the dead. On the cross, Christ endured the spiritual death that we faced as a result of sin; he experienced the wrath and judgment of God, but in the resurrection, he was vindicated, and conquered the physical effects of the Fall. Calvin rightly notes that death and resurrection cannot be properly divided in the work of Christ. They are so closely tied, so closely associated, that when one speaks of the death of Christ or of the cross, the resurrection is included automatically. Calvin ends his discussion with a summary that is worth quoting at length:
We see that our whole salvation and all its parts are comprehended in Christ (Acts 4:12). We should therefore take care not to derive the least portion of it from anywhere else. If we seek salvation, we are taught by the very name of Jesus that it is “of him” (1 Cor. 1:30). If we seek any other gifts of the Spirit, they will be found in his anointing. If we seek strength, it lies in his dominion; if purity, in his conception; if gentleness, it appears in his birth. For by his birth he was made like us in all respects (Heb. 2:17) that he might learn to feel our pain (cf. Heb. 5:2). If damnation, we seek redemption, it lies in his person; if acquittal, in his condemnation; if remission of the curse, in his cross (Gal. 3:13); if satisfaction, in his sacrifice; if purification, in his blood; if reconciliation, in his descent into hell; if mortification of the flesh, in his tomb; if newness of life, in his resurrection; if immortality, in the same; if inheritance of the Heavenly Kingdom, in his entrance into heaven; if protection, if security, if abundant supply of all blessings, in his Kingdom; if untroubled expectation of judgment, in the power given to him to judge. In short, rich store of every kind of good abounds in him, let us drink our fill from this fountain, and from no other. Some men, not content with him alone, are borne hither and thither from one hope to another; even if they concern themselves chiefly with him, they nevertheless stray from the right way in turning some part of their thinking in another direction. Yet such distrust cannot creep in where men have once for all truly known the abundance of his blessings.13
The Example view of the atonement, the idea that Jesus showed humans how to rightly live in proper relationship to God, has been referenced throughout the history of the church, but has always been associated with defective views of Christ, sin, or salvation. For example, the earliest example theory relied upon a Pelagian view of the sin nature, and argued that humans have the capacity to live without sin in order to obtain eternal life. The revival of the Example theory in the post-Reformation era among the followers of Faustus Socinus (i.e., Socinians) incorporated an Arian Christology (view that Jesus was the divine Son of God, but not fully deity like the Father), along with adoptionist elements (view that Jesus was made the Son of God sometime after his birth, usually at his baptism). At their most basic, they reject the sacrificial interpretation of the cross and any objective atonement on the part of God.14 Emphasis is placed on Jesus's faithful obedience to the Father, and sinners are reconciled to God by emulating that faith/obedience.
Redemption is reinterpreted as liberation from sin and punishment.15 Jesus's death is salvific, but not as a payment to the Father in order to satisfy offended honor, avert wrath, or any such thing. Rather, Christ’s obedience to God leads to his glorification and exaltation by God, and in the same way, we may also be glorified if we follow his example of love, purity, faithfulness, and piety, even unto death. Thus, Example views of the atonement fall short (because they fail to account for human depravity and offer works-based approaches to salvation).
The Governmental view of the atonement was developed by Hugo Grotius in defense of the Penal Substitution theory against the Example view of the Socinians, although it has since been viewed as a distinct theory. Grotius’ legal training as a jurist greatly influenced his thought. His primary concern is to preserve the justice of God against the attacks of the Socinians and to explore its implications for understanding the cross in light of a penal substitutionary model. Grotius contends that there were two key purposes for the death of Christ: the preservation of divine justice, and the exemption of humans from the punishment for sin. He conceives of God as a benevolent ruler whose primary concern is the administration of justice and law in order to benefit his subjects whom he loves.
Grotius begins by considering the relationship between God’s nature and law. Whereas the Penal Substitution theory, at least as advanced by Calvin, views the law as a perfect expression of God’s nature such that he must punish sin with death (shedding blood), Grotius argues that only lawfulness is tied to God’s nature as just, and any particular expression of law is subject to the divine will. The point that Grotius hopes to make is that the law is not something intrinsic and he is not obligated to it. If the law were intrinsic to God, then he would be mutable and if he were obligated to it, the law would be greater than he. Grotius writes, “The law is not something internal within God, or the will of God itself, but only an effect of that will. It is perfectly certain that the effects of the divine will are mutable. By promulgating a positive law which at some time he may wish to relax God does not signify that he wills anything but what he really does will.”16
So, Grotuis distinguishes different ways God administers his laws: some are abrogated, some are relaxed, some are immutable. For example, the dietary and ceremonial laws were abrogated, and are no longer binding on Jews, while those promises of God sealed with an oath (e.g., promise to bless Abraham) can never be changed because God is faithful. The principle which states that sinners will be punished with everlasting death can be relaxed (and even abrogated) if God so chooses, and this does not speak against his justice. Still, Grotius argues, any relaxation of penal law has the potential to undermine the authority of the law and the perceived power of the Lawgiver: “It is common to all laws that in relaxing, the authority of the law seems to be diminished in some respects.”17
The law that sinners should be punished seems to be naturally true and, therefore, is not to be relaxed without very good reasons, and of course, very good reasons can be given: If all sinners were punished with everlasting punishment, then human reverence, love, and worship of God—along with divine favor of humans—would cease. Very good reasons also exist for executing punishment for sin. First, God wanted to demonstrate how greatly sin displeases him, expressed in wrath. Second, the fear of punishment is an important preventive measure against sin. And third, stability requires consistency; if punishment is threatened but not carried out, anarchy ensues.
Ultimately, God chose to forgive the sins of humanity because of his great love, but the means by which he chose to do so is the way that most clearly demonstrates his nature as just, loving, merciful, and holy. That is, God chose to redeem us because of his love, and he chose the way that would reveal himself most clearly and comprehensively. Grotius writes:
But because among all his attributes love of the human race is pre-eminent, God was willing, though he could have justly punished the sins of all men with deserved and legitimate punishment, that is, with eternal death, and had reasons for so doing, to spare those who believe in Christ. But since we must be spared either by setting forth, or not setting forth, some example against so many great sins, in his most perfect wisdom he chose that way by which he could manifest more of his attributes at once, viz. both clemency and severity, or his hate of sin and care for the preservation of his law.18
Grotius summarizes his thought by pointing to the incarnation and crucifixion as the ultimate expression of God’s love. We were spared by One who thought (thinks) sin should be punished, so much so, that he gave his only Son for our sins! He writes, “So may we say with emphasis of this divine grace. It is above law, because we are not punished; for law, because punishment is not omitted; and remission is granted that we may live hereafter to the divine law.”19
Increasingly, evangelical scholars are recognizing that most atonement theories have some truth and are not mutually exclusive, but complimentary. For example, Oden writes,
The satisfaction and Christus Victor themes come closer to being consensual approaches (in the tradition of the [sic] Irenaeus, the Cappadocians, Augustine, Anselm, and Calvin) than the others. All four need some corrective voices from the others to form an adequate teaching. They are best viewed as complimentary. The scriptural and ecumenical teaching of atonement requires a good balance of the moral nature of man, moral government of God, the substitution of Christ for us in our place, and the consequent victory of Christ over demonic powers.”20
Erickson places emphasis upon penal substitution as the overriding theory and sees the others as subordinate, but he does not see them as competitors.21
It is probably best to view the different theories as addressing different concerns or answering different questions about how Jesus secured our salvation in the cross. The Release from Evil Powers/Christus Victor model speaks to the effect of Jesus's crucifixion and resurrection from a more eschatological focus; it secured the ultimate defeat of the power of sin, evil, and death. The Satisfaction theory speaks to the necessity of the incarnation and the impossibility of a merely human salvation, why works-based approaches to salvation cannot work. The Moral Influence theory speaks to the Christian life, how the cross communicates the immense love of God for humanity and how reflection on who Christ is and what he did should inspire us to love God more and serve him more faithfully. The Example theory invites consideration of Jesus's life and moral teachings so that we may know what faithful obedience looks like. The Penal Substitution model speaks to the mechanics of the crucifixion. It is the primary atonement theory among evangelicals because it most fully addresses the biblical account of how salvation works in the cross. The Governmental theory speaks to broader theological questions than how God secured salvation in the cross, moving instead to questions about whether salvation could have conceivably been different, and to how the nature of God is related to the way salvation works. Thus, one does not have to choose one atonement theory to the exclusion of the others; he can maintain that Christ’s death propitiated the wrath of God by paying the penalty for humanity’s sin and thus setting men free from the power of sin and death, while also claiming that God could have conceivably effected salvation another way, if he so chose.
Suppose God determined that setting up a formal system wherein forgiveness is effected through the shedding of blood would most fully realize his purposes for creation, whether those purposes were to maximize his glory (perhaps the most popular suggestion) or to most clearly reveal himself to humanity, or to maximize the number of persons saved/ratio of saved to lost, or something similar. Whatever his goal or goals (and they are not necessarily mutually exclusive), it seems that if it/they involved the free decisions of persons, a Molinist analysis makes most sense.22 Under the Open Theist and Process models, God’s choice to save humanity by means of an incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection may not reach his ultimate goal(s) for the creation.23 Under determinist models (Calvinist or Fatalist), God’s choice to save humanity by means of an incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection will reach his ultimate goal(s) for the creation, but other problems surface: either God’s freedom is compromised or the crucifixion seems capricious.24
The Molinist may claim that God could have possibly effected his plan in another way, and that God’s plan will meet its ultimate goal. If there is any draw of the Governmental theory for the individual Christian theologian, if he finds something wanting in the claim that God had to save humanity by means of an incarnation due to something inherent in the nature of the way things are (including God’s nature), if he believes God chose to save humanity this way but could possibly have done so another way (or not at all), then the Molinist account of soteriology (at least atonement theory) will be most attractive.
Most evangelical discussions of soteriology tend to focus on the individual: individual guilt, individual faith, individual forgiveness, and individual destiny for eternity. It has become almost axiomatic to reference the foci of the infamous “five points” [of Calvinism], represented by the acronym, TULIP: (T)otal Depravity, (U)nconditional Election, (L)imited Atonement, (I)rresistable Grace, and (P)erseverance of the Saints, even though they are now almost universally acknowledged to be ahistorical (in terms of the Synod of Dordrecht) and somewhat misleading.25 Still, they nicely raise important issues for consideration. Several of the topics represented in the acronym will be addressed here, primarily with respect to how Molinism may add clarity to the discussion.
Christian theologians have universally agreed that there were adverse effects of Adam’s sin upon all of humanity; when theologians refer to the “Fall,” they typically mean to refer to those effects and not merely to Adam’s initial sin.26 While there has been some debate regarding the physical ramifications of the Fall (i.e., whether or not it literally led to the physical deaths of Adam and Eve and their progeny), what has been of particular interest to theologians has been the effects of the Fall upon the spiritual condition of humanity. At the dawn of the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther and Desiderius Erasmus engaged in a spirited debate over the nature of free will and man’s ability, as it were, to respond positively to God’s free offer of salvation. As noted in the introduction, Luther doggedly refused human ability to not only earn salvation, but to perform actions deemed “good” or “godly.” He argued that sin has so infected man that he always chooses evil and never chooses the good, and that even actions that appear good on the outside, are sinful: “it is plain that no man is brought any nearer to righteousness by his works; and what is more, that no works and no aspirations or endeavors of free choice count for anything in the sight of God, but all are adjudged to be ungodly, unrighteous, and evil . . . if they are not righteous, they are damnable and deserving of wrath.”27
Likewise, John Calvin argued that man, unaided by God’s grace, cannot repent of his sins and believe the gospel. This claim, in and of itself, was not particularly controversial, as even Erasmus admitted as much and all Protestants have agreed, but Calvin and his followers took it to mean that the aid rendered by God enabling men to believe the gospel had to be rebirth. That is, Calvinism argues that persons must be born anew in order to believe; faith comes as a result of regeneration. As will be addressed further in the discussion of ordo salutis in chapter 9, this belief has proven rather controversial, and a number of Protestant groups (and not a few Catholics) have rejected it. These issues cut to the heart of the doctrine of salvation, by raising questions related to the nature of election, predestination, faith, and reconciliation.
The doctrine of election refers to God’s choice of a person or group of persons to receive some form of blessing, most importantly, salvation. Closely related to this is the concept of predestination, which refers to God’s determination beforehand (before the person exists, before his creative act, before any conditions are met) to grant salvation to the individual or group. While it is clear from Scripture that God’s election extends to the nation of Israel (cf. Deut. 7:6–8; Isa. 4:8–9; Rom. 11) through Abraham and the various covenants following (Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davidic), most commonly in evangelical circles the concern has to do with particular persons being predestined for salvation prior to their being born. The Bible makes it clear that Christians were elected and predestined for salvation in Christ, and that this election is a pure act of God’s graciousness and love (Rom. 9:11–12; Eph. 1:4–6). What is not so clear is whether (or not) non-Christians were elected and predestined for condemnation apart from Christ, and whether (or not) this has any negative consequences for the doctrine of God or one’s system of theology and providence. What is also not so clear is the basis of the election of the saved; Calvinists and Molinists often disagree here.
The question of so-called “double predestination,” of whether God predestines some (most) to Hell while predestining some (few) to Heaven has plagued discussions of election from the earliest years of the church. It has often stood as a criticism of Calvinist soteriology because, it is argued, the stronger determining activity of God in one’s coming to faith suggests that God’s election to salvation is capricious and necessarily entails an election to reprobation, an act that seems more hateful than loving.28 As Olson writes:
How is God love if he foreordains many people to Hell for eternity when he could save them because election to salvation is always completely unconditional and has nothing to do with character or choices? How is it that God wants all people to be saved if he determines some specific individuals to be damned? How is it that God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked (Ezek. 18:32) if he foreordains everything, including their reprobation and eternal punishment, for his good pleasure? How is God good if he purposefully withheld from Adam the grace he needed not to fall—knowing that Adam’s fall would result in the horrors of sin and evil and innocent suffering of history?29
While a more in-depth examination of the issues undergirding these concerns can be found in the next chapter, a few words are in order. First, most Calvinist authors reject the supposition that God is somehow obligated, as a result of his loving and gracious nature, to save all (or any!). Rather, they rightly argue that God’s saving any is gracious in itself, and correctly assume that the actions God has taken (and will take) are perfectly reflective of his nature and that some attribute (e.g., holiness) may serve as the basis for a condemnation consistent with his nature. Whatever God’s reasons for creating (e.g., maximizing his glory), they are perfectly and mysteriously met in a world where few are saved and many are condemned. As popular Calvinist teacher and apologist R. C. Sproul has said, “I have no idea why God saves some but not all. I don’t doubt for a moment that God has the power to save all, but I know that he does not choose to save all. I don’t know why. . . . One thing I do know. If it pleases God to save some and not all, there is nothing wrong with that. God is not under obligation to save anybody. If he chooses to save some, that in no way obligates him to save the rest.”30
Second, many Calvinists have rejected the charge of double predestination on Scriptural grounds. They point out that references to election and “the elect” in the Bible always refer to salvation and the saved; there are no biblical references to election of the reprobate. In addition, they argue, Hell was prepared for Satan and his demons (Matt. 25:41) and not humans, and this speaks to God’s purposes in creating humanity (i.e., for fellowship with God). They reconcile God’s purposes for some persons being unrealized with his deterministic control by appeal to the concept of passive and active work. God’s choice of some for salvation is an active work of grace, while his failure to choose others for salvation is passive; he does not choose some for condemnation.
While these clarifications are helpful, they do not escape the full force of the complaint, especially given the Reformed theological framework. It is to be expected that the passages which speak to election would refer to the saved because the focus of the biblical narrative is upon salvation history, and much of the New Testament is epistolary, written to believers who just are the elect. Still, some passages do seem to indicate an election to condemnation for some (Rom. 9:22; cf. 9:23–24; 1 Peter 2:8; Jude 4), and so the claim that the Bible never refers to election to condemnation, while technically and literally true, is literarily misleading. In addition, an argument may be constructed which proves double predestination by questioning the active/passive distinction in divine work (as Calvin does). If God’s control extends to the very decisions persons make (i.e., he creates faith in those who are saved), then his decision to not give faith to particular persons is an active choice on his part. Similarly, if all history were predetermined before creation, then Hell was created with a view to the final judgment of humanity as well as to that of the Devil and his angels.
Third, it is worth pointing out that the issue of double predestination stands as something of a problem for all positions orthodox on divine foreknowledge and predestination. That is, under Molinist principles, God predestines some (few) for salvation and in so doing (if the argument holds), also predestines some (many) for condemnation. Molinists must also argue that, whatever God’s reasons for creating, they are met in a world where few are saved and many are condemned and so they must reckon with the potential implications of double predestination as well. That is, the charge of double predestination, as a critique of the goodness and lovingkindness of God, cannot stand as a pure weakness of the Calvinist presentation of divine election and predestination, over against Arminian conceptions, for most Arminians maintain not only that God foreknew who would be saved, but utilized that knowledge to predestine the elect (and not predestine the non-elect).
Still, as with the problem of evil taken broadly, the difficulties of double predestination are particularly acute for Calvinism, as Molinists can appeal to feasibility to argue that God may not have been able to save all (even if his power is sufficient to do so), while Calvinists can make no such claim.31 Since Molinists can appeal to feasibility and a self-imposed limitation upon God’s options due to his free choice to create free creatures, they therefore do not have to appeal to another attribute (e.g., holiness) in order to explain reprobation. In many Calvinist presentations, God’s holiness and justice appear to be at odds with his love and mercy (i.e., God’s love and mercy lead him to cause a few to believe and be saved, while his holiness and justice lead him to leave many in unbelief and be condemned), while in Molinism, no such bifurcation seems necessary; it may not have been feasible for God to create a world with a greater ratio of saved/unsaved or a better balance of good and evil.32 In Molinism, it is not God’s love and mercy at odds with his holiness and justice, but rather his desire to save all with their free decisions to reject his offer.33
The basis of the election of those who are saved and the relationship between God’s predestining work and his foreknowledge are particularly contentious issues among Calvinists and Arminians. Calvinists have typically argued that predestination determines foreknowledge. They contend that God knows the future—and especially who will be saved—because he determined the future and predestined those persons to be saved. This means that foreknowledge is logically dependent upon and logically posterior to predestination. Persons are elected for reasons known only to God (usually left merely as “his good pleasure” or something similar), but not on the basis of foreseen merit, foreseen faith, or the like. This position has come to be known popularly as unconditional election. While some detractors of Calvinism have questioned the justice of this doctrine, Calvinists have emphasized the graciousness of election itself. For example, Boettner writes:
It may be asked, Why does God save some and not others? But that belongs to His secret counsels. Precisely why this man receives, and that man does not receive, when neither deserves to receive, we are not told. That God was pleased to set upon us in this His electing grace, must ever remain for us a matter of adoring wonder…. When we consider, on the one hand, what a heinous thing sin is, together with its desert of punishment, and on the other, what holiness is, together with God’s perfect hatred for sin, the marvel is that God could get the consent of His holy nature to save a single sinner.34
Arminians have typically argued that foreknowledge serves as the basis for predestination. They argue that God predestines some to be saved based on his knowledge of how they will respond to the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives. This means that predestination is logically dependent upon and logically posterior to divine foreknowledge, and is sometimes called conditional election, but it must be emphasized that the conditions upon which election is based are not good works or merit, but rather saving faith effected by a movement of the Holy Spirit upon the individual. John Miley writes, “it is still open for us to maintain that it was on the divine foresight of their free compliance with its required term [faith]. . . it is in such full accord with the Scriptures respecting the actual conditionality of salvation, that it may be successfully maintained.”35
Molinist soteriology does not require that God elect persons based on foreseen faith, but many Molinists have held to this view. In point of fact, when Arminians say that God elects based on foreseen faith, what most really mean is that God elects based on the counterfactuals of creaturely freedom that refer to individual faith responses persons would have if placed in the right circumstances, and then God predestines them by ensuring they will find themselves in those circumstances where they will believe. This approach allows for an explanation of why all persons do not get saved, even if it is God’s desire that they do so. The Molinist can claim that Peter was really serious and speaking literally when he says that God desires that none should perish and all would come to saving faith (2 Peter 3:9), but also that a world where all accept Christ and are saved may not be a feasible world. Calvinists have historically made similar claims about God’s intentions and desires regarding the genuineness of God’s offer of salvation to all who hear the gospel, but have been unable to offer much by way of a consistent explanation for why those desires are not met. If election is unconditional and grace is irresistible so that atonement is limited by God’s sovereign choice for reasons known only to him, then it seems that if God desired all be saved, then all would be saved, and it also seems that if Jesus only died for the elect, then the offer of salvation to all who hear the gospel is not genuine; the offer is only truly made to the elect. Hoekema appeals to the category of paradox, and suggests that God’s work in salvation is not subject to the laws of logic, but such appeals are neither satisfying nor coherent.36 By contrast, Molinism can consistently claim that God truly desires all be saved, that the offer of salvation to all who hear the gospel is a genuine offer, and that God has predestined only some (i.e., those he knew would respond favorably) to be saved, without appeal to paradox or wholesale mystery.
The primary complaint against the Molinist approach is that it seems to make the efficaciousness of God’s grace dependent upon human free will rather than God’s good pleasure or free decision. However, while the complaint has a long history—Molina himself was criticized for it—it is true only of some versions of Molinist soteriology and need not apply to all. Consider the following example.
Suppose there are two persons: John, who accepts Christ and is saved, and Martin, who rejects Christ and is lost. The Molinist can maintain that prior to creating, God saw:
If I give a certain amount of grace to John to enable him to believe in me, he will believe;
and
If I give a certain amount of grace to Martin to enable him to believe in me, he will not believe.
In this case, God uses this information to decide which world to actualize, and indeed give John grace so he can believe (and thus effecting John’s faith), and to not give Martin grace so he can believe (thus preserving God’s sovereignty over salvation without causing Martin’s unbelief or preventing Martin from believing) and without it being the case that God withheld the grace that would have enabled Martin to believe. In this case, the grace given to John is efficacious because it will get the result for which it was intended. Martin was not given grace to enable him to believe because, even if he were, he would not believe.
The important point to note here is that under this model, the efficaciousness of God’s grace is not dependent upon human response as if the human response “activates” God’s grace, or transforms it from general/common grace to efficacious/effectual. God gives efficacious grace to John, and John thus believes. Similarly, this model does not claim that unbelievers are given grace that is meant to be efficacious, but because of their unbelief, it is made ineffectual, as if efficaciousness is “up in the air” until the human either believes (making it efficacious) or does not believe (making it ineffectual). Such a reading is a misrepresentation of the proper logical order of things.
This model thus avoids the common Arminian error of a strong semi-Pelagianism and preserves the sovereignty of God in salvation; salvation is much more dependent upon the work of God not only in Christ’s sacrificial death, glorious resurrection, and steadfast mediation, and the Father’s gracious declaration of innocence, but also the Holy Spirit’s work in empowering fallen man to believe, than upon man’s free choice. Too often in Arminian soteriology there is an overemphasis upon prevenient grace (the faith-enabling grace given by the Holy Spirit) and its availability to all persons so that the outcome is a tip of the hat to divine enablement, while the primary concern seems to be with the individual’s choice for or against God.37 The model presented here allows the Molinist to claim that faith is a free human response to God’s call to salvation, but also a gift of God.
Some may complain that this model makes God somehow unfair because he is not depicted as giving all persons an equally good chance at salvation; they may argue that God must give all equal enabling (prevenient) grace for belief in order to preserve his fairness. This may be true of the God of Open Theism, who cannot be sure of the outcome of the granting of grace, but it is not true of the Molinist or Calvinist God. According to Molinism, God’s knowledge of all counterfactuals of freedom allows him to know ahead of time that Martin will reject Christ, even if he is given a sufficient amount of prevenient/enabling grace to believe. Thus, even though God does not grant Martin the grace to believe, he is still just in condemning Martin for his unbelief. This is not the case in Open Theism, where God cannot be sure that Martin will not believe if given prevenient grace (and so God would be unjust in condemning Martin without first giving him the grace to believe) and it is not the case in Calvinism, where Martin would believe in given grace (rebirth), so God withholds it so that Martin will not believe and be condemned. In both the Open Theist and Calvinist models, God’s fairness seems tenuous.
Individual Christians’ experiences with salvation can differ greatly. Some people hear the gospel and are miraculously saved right then, as if something like a light-switch was turned on in their spirits. When first confronted about their sin or when they first hear of the love God has for them, they are cut to the heart, and respond by repenting and trusting Christ for salvation. Both Calvinism and Arminianism are able to adequately explain this phenomenon. A Calvinist interpretation appeals to the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit through the hearing of the gospel as an explanation for the instantaneous faith response in the individual; upon hearing the gospel, the individual is made alive to God’s word by the Holy Spirit rebirthing him, and he is then enabled to believe the gospel and given a disposition that wants to trust Christ as Lord and Savior. An Arminian interpretation appeals to prevenient grace and the convicting ministry of the Holy Spirit to claim that the individual is enabled to respond appropriately, and freely chooses to do so, as the Holy Spirit draws him and empowers him.
However, some have an experience of salvation that seems more like a process. My own testimony is like this. God began to draw me unto himself when I was in high school, but I largely refused his promptings. While I can now see that he was softening my hard heart toward the gospel by placing positive examples of Christianity into my life, at the time I simply refused to believe. Over time, and through a series of events, I came to a position where I wanted to believe the gospel and wanted to be a Christian, but I simply could not believe. I was attending Bible studies and worship services, reading the Bible on my own, and meeting with a Christian friend to discuss issues related to faith. Still, as I read the stories of Jesus's miracles—walking on water, casting out demons, healings, etc.—I saw them as fairy stories; they just did not ring true. My friend advised me to continue doing what I was doing, and to start praying and asking God to help me believe. Although it seemed very strange for me, an atheist, to pray, I thought “it can’t hurt,” and so I began asking God for faith. Over the next several months, I continued to read my Bible, pray, and attend worship, and somewhere along the way, faith came. The point of the story may surprise many readers, for it may seem to have a very strong Calvinist ring to it (since I asked God to give me faith), but in actuality, Calvinism has a very difficult time accounting for my experience.
My testimony includes numerous places where God was calling/drawing me to himself, and where I responded with a measure of faith. Over the course of the year or so when I was a “seeker,” God was prompting me to draw closer to him, and in many cases, I did, though I was most certainly not saved. Consider my conversation with my friend about my inability to believe; surely I was not yet reborn, but by agreeing to continue toward faith and by having the desire to move in that direction, I was responding to the work of God in my life in what can only be described as some kind of positive faith (even if not saving faith). I responded in faith prior to being saved, and I could even have turned away, and I was on a faith journey that began prior to my rebirth.
Arminianism/Molinism is able to account for this phenomenon by appeal to the concept of prevenient grace. The Holy Spirit calls and draws the individual, and gives him grace that enables him to respond in faith to God’s call, though the individual may not fully accept the gospel at this point. Still, the response is positive, appears to be a type of faith, and therefore requires a work of the Holy Spirit upon the individual in order to overcome the sin nature. Calvinism, by contrast, seems ill-equipped to deal with such situations because it either has to argue that the individual is not responding in faith until the moment of salvation, or there is an enabling work of the Spirit prior to salvation akin to the Arminian concept of prevenient grace, but this undermines the entire Calvinist soteriology. Once the requirement for regeneration preceding faith is abandoned, one of the fundamental distinctions between Calvinism and Arminianism is denied.38
Most reformed thinkers simply do not address this type of situation, and instead emphasize the immediate nature of regeneration out of a concern to protect the distinction between justification and sanctification, a distinction important for differentiating Protestant theology from Catholic theology.39 Berkhof seems to hint at a similar situation when he refers to regeneration as a category that normally coincides with conversion, but in some cases may not. He speaks of it being possibly subconscious such that the individual is not aware he has been regenerated. If that is the case, then it may be that I was regenerate before I realized I had faith, but such an interpretation seems to fly in the face of how most reformed theologians (and most Christians generally) speak of faith. Still, Berkhof really seems to be addressing the post-salvation doubts that individuals have, especially when they struggle with sin, not a regeneration of which one is not aware at the time of rebirth.40
A second problem with the Calvinist claim that regeneration must precede faith and is given via irresistible grace has to do with the ongoing struggle with sin after conversion. In Calvinism, grace is irresistible with respect to salvation; the individual stands in complete opposition to God, lost in his sin until God’s spirit regenerates him, thus enabling and causing him to believe in such a way that he cannot refuse. In the mechanics of Calvinist soteriology, it is in the granting of new life and a new nature through regeneration that the individual is compelled to believe the gospel, though not against his will because he has a new will consistent with his new nature as a child of God, and thus, desires to follow Christ.
However, the logic seems to break down when applied to the Christian life, for at some point after regeneration and saving faith, the new nature no longer functions to determine belief in the individual because he can resist and grieve the Holy Spirit. The grace to believe due to regeneration is now resistible for the believer, and he must work to remain in step with the Spirit and to resist the draw of fleshly desires. Of course, the Spirit is actively involved in empowering the individual to do those things necessary—pray, read the Bible, yield himself to the Holy Spirit, etc.—but the point is that in this, the Spirit’s work seems very much like prevenient grace in Arminian soteriology. It is a resistible enabling grace and work of the Holy Spirit that relates to the individual trusting the Lord and following him. The only difference is that the Arminian claims that this work of the Spirit can operate on unbelievers and believers, while Calvinists contend it can only work on believers.
It would almost seem that Calvinists should believe in some form of sinless perfectionism after regeneration, since regeneration leads to a new nature that compels faith; one might wonder why it should not also compel faithfulness. Ironically, it has historically been some Arminians who have emphasized the propensity (in believers) for perfection prior to glorification, and some reformed theologians have argued that believers are composites of the old self and the new self, analogous to Jekyll and Hyde.41 Some, however, reject this interpretation and instead claim that believers are totally and only “new” (Rom. 6:6; 2 Cor. 5:17; Col. 3:9–10; Eph. 4:20–24). For instance, Hoekema argues that the new self still struggles with sin and is in need of continual renewal, growth, and transformation, because he still has a sin nature in addition to a new nature: “Christians are no longer old persons but new persons who are being progressively renewed. They must still battle against sin and will sometimes fall into sin, but they are no longer slaves of sin. In the strength of the Spirit they are now able to resist sin, since for every temptation God will provide a way of escape (1 Cor. 10:13).”42 Unfortunately, this explanation clears up little, in part because it does not address how God’s spirit is able to strengthen believers without overwhelming the sin nature, in part because it makes no attempt to reconcile reformed teaching on the necessity of regeneration for belief—which is an irresistible grace—with the resistibility of grace in sanctification, and in part, at least for Hoekema, because sanctification is in some ways equated with regeneration.43
The point to be made here is not that Calvinism should lead to perfectionism, or that Calvinism seems to short shrift the Holy Spirit’s power in sanctification (compared to his work in regeneration), and it is not meant to suggest that Calvinists make the audacious claim that the grace given to unbelievers is such that they must believe and be faithful, while the grace given to believers is somehow inadequate and ineffectual. Such characterizations are insulting, unhelpful, and misleading. The point to be made here is that it appears that those Calvinists who deny sinless perfectionism after salvation (i.e., most Calvinists) must incorporate something akin to prevenient grace in their model of how the Holy Spirit works in sanctification, and therefore, they have little room to criticize the Arminian concept of prevenient grace, at least conceptually. They may deny such grace is sufficient to move an unbeliever to the point at which he may believe, but they may not deny the coherence or conceptual strength of such grace.
Nevertheless, many Calvinists have been critical of prevenient grace, arguing that it is unbiblical and incoherent. For example, Turretin argues that the concept of a grace that is resistible is problematic on several counts, including the weakness of man, the power of God to meet his own desires, the nature of regeneration and its effect on the human heart, the work of God on the human will, and what he calls “absurdities.” By this, he suggests that it makes salvation dependent upon the human sinner rather than God, that those who are saved should not properly thank God (because it was their own doing), that God’s foreknowledge would be called into question, and that it makes Satan’s influence upon humanity on a par with God’s (i.e., neither can determine or sway humanity with any certainty).44 These characterizations have led to much confusion.
One way of explaining the concept of prevenient grace is to appeal to the story of Adam in the Garden. Evangelicals have been most concerned with the effects of the Fall upon the spiritual condition of humanity, but have shown surprisingly little interest in the pre-Fall spiritual condition of Adam. Questions related to Adam’s pre-Fall ability to choose the good, or to trust in God, deserve to be answered. It seems obvious enough that Adam had a kind of freedom that allowed him to choose to sin and bear the responsibility for that sin, but if the doctrine of the Fall, with humanity’s collective inheritance of corruption from Adam as a result, is correct, then it stands to reason not only that humans are not inherently sinful (i.e., in virtue of being human), but also that Adam had the capacity to act in faith. It may be the case that Adam’s pre-Fall condition can illumine our understanding of humanity’s condition when given an enabling grace to believe. That is, prevenient grace may be conceived as bringing the individual to a similar spiritual enablement as Adam prior to the Fall, with one difference: Adam communed with God directly (unmediated) and the creation was not yet subject to sin and death, and he still chose to sin, whereas persons today have the disadvantage of required mediation for their interactions with God, and have viewed sin and corruption as “normal.”
One of the perennial problems that pastors often face in the counselor’s role has to do with the security of one’s eternal destiny in the face of ongoing temptation and struggles with sin, even after he has accepted Christ as Lord and Savior, and thus, been reborn. Martin Luther, even when living the life of a monastic dedicated to God as a result of a miraculous salvation from death, famously struggled with fear of judgment and self-loathing because of his acute sense of his own sins, to the extent that his confessor, Johann Staupitz, once in frustration told him to go and commit a sin worth confessing.45 He serves as an example of the kind of struggle parishioners can have with the life of faith and holiness; many have an acute sense of guilt for sins committed after rebirth, and rightly so, but often the fear of God that gives rise to the conviction for sins transforms into fear for one’s eternal destiny, even despite repeated efforts at repentance. This is when pastors need to offer wise theological counsel that is practical.
The doctrine of perseverance has traditionally been held by those in the reformed tradition over against Catholic theology, which has tended to see such certainty of one’s salvation as presumptuous. Interestingly, although the possibility of loss of salvation has come to be associated with Arminianism through the Remonstrants, Arminius himself believed in both perseverance of the saints and assurance of salvation.46 On perseverance, he first noted that the power of the Holy Spirit at work in the believer is sufficient to allow him to overcome sin and the Devil: “So that it is not possible for them [saints], by any of the cunning craftiness or power of Satan, to be either seduced or dragged out of the hands of Christ.” He then appealed to the promise of rebirth and the completed nature of that transformation in order to claim certainty once an individual places his faith in Christ.47 Calvinism has typically appealed to God’s determining will as the basis for perseverance. Just as God determined individual faith, so also he will determine that those who are truly reborn will remain faithful to the end. While perseverance is often referred to colloquially as “once saved, always saved,” as a doctrine it is less concerned with the permanence of salvation, once completed, and more with the individual believer remaining in the faith. The question of the possibility of one losing his salvation is more a by-product of the assertions made regarding that perseverance.
There are many good reasons—theological and biblical—for accepting the doctrine of perseverance. For example, salvation is referred to as a promise given by God and which looks to a future fulfillment (Titus 1:2; 1 John 2:25; Eph. 1:13; Heb. 11:13, 39; James 2:5), and it is sealed by God, indicating his ownership (2 Cor. 1:22; Eph. 4:30). In addition, the Holy Spirit is described as an earnest or down payment on salvation, which guarantees a later realization (2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Eph. 1:14), and as an inheritance (Eph. 1:18; Col. 3:24; Heb. 9:15; 1 Peter 1:3–4). Christ is described as the firstfruits of our salvation, which points to a later harvest (1 Cor. 15:20–23; Rom. 8:23), and our adoption as children of God suggests permanence of the relationship (Rom. 8:15–23; 9:4; Gal. 4:5). Jesus assured believers that no one can snatch his sheep from his hand (John 10:27–29), Paul declares that if God is for us, no one can stand against us (Rom. 8:31–34) and no one can separate us from the love of God in Christ (Rom. 8:35–39), and the book of Hebrews boldly declares that salvation for believers is secure because Jesus has gone through the heavens, was tempted without sin, is God/deity, intercedes for us as the perfect high priest and sacrifice, and will never leave us nor forsake us (Heb. 13:5). The New Testament also suggests that Christians who die in sin can still be saved (e.g., man sleeping with his father’s wife, who is handed over to Satan for destruction of the flesh so that his soul will be saved in the end; 1 Cor. 5:5; see also 1 Cor. 11:30; 1 Thess. 4:13; Acts 5). So Calvinists and Arminians can agree on the principle of assurance, though they disagree somewhat on the basis for that assurance.
While Calvinists assert that the only way to ensure perseverance is to place it in the certain and stable will of God, a counterfactual analysis applied to the divine deliberative process (i.e., middle knowledge) can also account for this doctrine. For example, in deciding who to elect, God may not only have considered who would respond with appropriate faith if given prevenient/enabling grace, but also who would remain faithful to the end, given the Holy Spirit’s work. That is, God may have considered truths such as
If I were to grant John grace to enable him to believe the gospel and he were to do so, and I were to continue to move in him, transforming him into the image of Christ, he would freely remain in the faith.
and
When John sins and I convict him of that sin, he will freely repent and return to me in faith.
So an Arminian analysis predicated on middle knowledge can also affirm perseverance, but with one difference: it can account for the situations in which persons are reborn, but fall away from the faith and die in their sins. It will still maintain that those individuals are ultimately saved, but it has an explanation for how persons may have been pulled away by sin. By contrast, Calvinism struggles with explaining this problem.48 In the previous section, the work of the Holy Spirit in one’s progressively coming to faith was discussed. It was argued that Arminianism’s appeal to prevenient grace allowed for a real faith response of individuals, even before salvation. It was also shown that Calvinism struggles to explain why regeneration compels faith for salvific purposes, but does not compel faithfulness for sanctification purposes, and herein lies the problem. Again, it seems that Christians who have been regenerated and given a new nature, such that they naturally want to believe and trust in Christ (as in a Calvinist soteriology), would never fall away, and appeals to two natures seems unable to fully account for both phenomena: a compelling new nature with respect to salvation, and struggling old and new natures with respect to the life of faith. By contrast, Molinism offers an explanation for why believers fall away, because the individual is not compelled to belief by the granting of a new nature, and the counterfactuals of freedom may also include the sins of Christians post-conversion. Consider the following counterfactual:
If I were to grant John grace to enable him to believe the gospel and he were to do so, and I were to continue to move in him, transforming him into the image of Christ, he would struggle with sin, but ultimately return to the faith
Given libertarian freedom and feasible worlds, Molinism can suggest that it may be the case that some Christians could not have been saved and remain true to the faith throughout their lives after receiving salvation; the counterfactuals of freedom just may not allow it. Calvinism can make no such claim, as it is always the case that God can give an individual the grace to overcome sin. He simply chooses to not do so, for reasons known only to him. So Molinism is able to account for the ongoing believer’s struggle with sin in a way that preserves God’s sovereignty and goodness, something Calvinism struggles to offer without appeal to mystery or paradox. Molinism is also able to offer assurance of salvation in the same way Calvinism is able to provide security and assurance to the Christian struggling with sin and the fear of damnation.
Open Theism and Process Theology, by contrast, can offer no such assurance or security, for presumably God cannot know if persons will remain faithful, has no way of assuring it without overriding their freedom, and would not do so. Of course, according to Open Theism, God could conceivably force Christians to remain faithful, but such an appeal is unattractive to most Open Theists, and runs against the grain of the whole system.
The Christian faith has always been grounded in both corporate worship and individual piety. Growth in the faith—growing closer to God—is dependent upon the individual Christian being disciplined in both of these areas and upon the Holy Spirit’s gracious transformative work in the individual, changing his very constitution. Although we believe persons are fundamentally changed at the moment of justification and rebirth, from being a child of darkness and Adam and a slave to sin, to being a child of light and God and a slave to righteousness, we also acknowledge that the Bible speaks of a process following regeneration that is described as being made into the image of Christ (2 Cor. 3:18; cf., Eph. 4:13; 2 Peter 3:18; 1 John 3:2).
Just as salvation is dependent upon God’s gracious work in the individual such that salvation is solely his from start to finish and he alone is worthy of praise, so also spiritual growth is dependent upon God’s gracious work in the individual such that sanctification is solely his from start to finish and he alone is worthy of praise. Just as it is not possible for humans to be good enough to earn their salvation, so also it is not possible for unregenerate humans to purify and sanctify themselves and it is not possible for humans to be good and grow in the faith. Salvation and sanctification both require an initiating work of the Holy Spirit upon the individual, an empowering work of the Holy Spirit upon the individual to respond in faith, and a transformative work of the Holy Spirit in response to the faith.
Still, the Bible does seem to indicate that one’s spiritual growth is in some way dependent upon his faith response such that he is responsible for his faith and/or lack of faith. The constant admonishment of the New Testament authors is for Christians to “walk in the light” (Ps. 56:13; 89:15; Isa. 2:5; John 8:12; 1 John 1:7), “walk by the spirit” (Gal. 5:16, 25), “live by faith, not sight” (2 Cor. 5:7; cf., Hab. 2:4; Rom. 1:17; Gal. 2:20; 3:11–12; Heb. 10:38), “be filled with the spirit” (Eph. 5:18), and the like. The very concept of spiritual disciplines that one can practice and that can be a means of entry into a deeper spiritual life suggests a responsibility of the individual for his own spiritual growth.49 Bible study, Meditation, fasting, silence, solitude, etc., all entail a conscious decision to act, and seem to include the ability to not-act.50
The responsibility believers have for their own spiritual condition can also be seen in the New Testament warnings against negative responses to life and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. While it was argued that there are good reasons to hold to the doctrine of perseverance, it also must be admitted that there are many passages, particularly in the book of Hebrews, that warn against falling away (Heb. 2:1–4; 3:7–19; 5:11–6:18; 10:26–38; 12:3, 14–17, 25–29). The admonishments to the readers to remain faithful give instruction for what they may do in order to strengthen their positions, but also suggest that it is, in some way, up to them to refrain from losing heart, losing faith, and falling away.
This responsibility can also be seen in the biblical teaching on believers’ control over their spiritual gifts. Unlike the pagan religions of the ancient Near East, which were often characterized by ecstatic experiences with a loss of one’s faculties, as seen in the antics of the prophets of Baal and Ashtoreth at Carmel (1 Kings 18), biblical prophets retained control over their faculties. Paul’s instruction concerning tongues, prophecy, and orderly worship is especially revealing (1 Cor. 14; esp. vv. 26–33). One should only exercise the gift of tongues if there is another present who can interpret the message for the good of the congregation; otherwise, he is to restrain himself. When persons prophesy in church, they are to take turns and do so in an orderly and controlled manner, suggesting power of the individual over the use of the gift. And if the gifts of healing and miracles are represented by Peter and John in their encounter with the blind man and his subsequent healing, then it appears that the gifts are controlled by the individual believer.51 Similarly, the true prophets of Israel spoke of their own volition, chose the words to speak, and seemingly had the ability to refuse to speak (even if they sometimes spoke of being compelled; e.g., Jer. 20:9). This control that the biblical prophets maintained over their exercise of prophecy is to be contrasted with the pagan oracles, who often emptied themselves in order to be possessed by the deity, utilized drugs in order to enter a trancelike state, and were essentially uninvolved in the production and articulation of the prophetic word.52 As noted in chapter seven on biblical inspiration, such control distinguishes the verbal/plenary view of inspiration from dictation theories, and biblical prophecy from paganism. Such control seems best explained by libertarian freedom, and God’s use of such free actions in his overall plan for humanity is best explained by appeal to middle knowledge.
In this chapter, the value of Molinism for an evangelical conception of salvation was considered. After surveying atonement theories, Molinism was shown to better handle questions related to God’s purposes and plan in effecting salvation through Christ’s death on the cross and resurrection from the dead. It also was shown that Molinism best handles the balancing of God’s sovereign election and his fairness/justice. It can account for the gracious granting of salvation due to the human response of faith, and can best explain how divine enablement to believe can be reconciled with the human requirement to trust God while avoiding Pelagian-sounding language of merit.
Molinism was also shown to have the conceptual tools necessary for explaining the on-going experience of salvation in the lives of believers, as well as the spiritual struggle to remain faithful. Molinism is able to maintain a strong view of divine sovereignty over all aspects of salvation, from regeneration to glorification, while offering plausible explanations for phenomena of the spiritual life as diverse as backsliding, practice of spiritual disciplines, and the exercising of spiritual gifts. Subsequent chapters will address some of these practical concerns in more detail.
1. John R. W. Stott, The Cross of Christ (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1986), 109.
2. See, in particular, Irenaeus, Against Heresies 18.6–7.
3. This approach to understanding salvation was determinative in the Christological controversies of the fourth and fifth centuries, but was never widely held as the primary way God has saved humanity in Christ.
4. Gregory speculates that Satan could not behold the Son apart from the flesh of Jesus, and this led him to believe he could take the man Jesus as “ransom.” He writes, “But it was out of his power to look on the unclouded aspect of God; he must see in Him some portion of that fleshly nature which through sin he had so long held in bondage. Therefore it was that the Deity was invested with the flesh, in order, that is, to secure that he, by looking upon something congenial and kindred to himself, might have no fears in approaching that supereminent power; and might yet by perceiving that power, showing as it did, yet only gradually, more and more splendour in the miracles, deem what was seen an object of desire rather than of fear.” Gregory of Nyssa, The Great Catechism, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, vol. 5: Gregory of Nyssa: Dogmatic Treatises, etc. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), 493.
5. Tertullian appropriated the term, “satisfaction,” from Roman law in order to describe the penitent activity: it pays God back for his work in salvation. In other words, Tertullian sees the cross as leading individuals to repent, which serves as a sort of legal transaction in which God is repaid something that he paid on behalf of sinners, or that he lost as a result of sinful activity (it is not clear which Tertullian has in mind).
6. He sees acts of disobedience as fundamentally the result of an improper attitude whereby God is not given the respect due him.
7. Anselm, Cur Deus Homo 2.6, in St. Anselm: Basic Writings, trans. S. N. Deane, 2nd ed. (La Salle, IL: Open Court, 1962), 259.
8. He complained that it makes no sense to claim that Original Sin requires the death of Christ because the murder of Christ seems to be a greater sin than the sin of Adam. If Adam’s eating the forbidden fruit requires the sacrifice of the Son of God, then what penalty can be required for the murder of Jesus, the innocent Son of God? According to Abelard, there is no good answer. More importantly, though, Abelard complains that the requirement of the death of an innocent for the crimes of others is unjust; it speaks against the fairness and goodness of God himself! According to Abelard, Jesus showed us how to live in complete obedience to the Father, and demonstrated God’s love for us (in that he condescended to us in the Incarnation), but his death was not compensatory. So when Abelard says that Christ’s death is expiatory, he means that in his subjection to death, the Son showed his obedience to the Father and his love for humanity.
9. A fundamental aspect of human existence—of that which we hope to be saved from—is mortality. If Jesus were to not really die, then he would not have fully identified with the human condition, and since it was the Father’s will that the Son should do so, obedience to the Father’s will required subjection to death on the cross.
10. Peter Abailard, Exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, trans. Gerald E. Moffait, A Scholastic Miscellany: Anselm to Ockham, ed. Eugene R. Fairweather (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1956), 283–84.
11. The penal substitutionary view is a development of the satisfaction motif. Like the satisfaction theory, it is based on the idea that some form of satisfaction is required by man, but no mere human can pay. Unlike the satisfaction theory, it sees sin primarily as active—a violation of God’s law and an affront to his holiness—and this incurs the just wrath of God.
12. Bruce Demarest, The Cross and Salvation (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2006), 158–59.
13. Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion 2.16.19 (trans. Battles, 527–28).
14. The Socinians reacted against the Satisfaction theory of the atonement, calling it “false, erroneous, and exceedingly pernicious.” First, they accuse those who hold to satisfaction of poor exegesis, claiming that the Bible makes no mention of such a scheme. Instead, they claim that proponents of Anselm’s view string unbiblical inferences together and call it an argument. Second, they challenge the concept of satisfaction, arguing that it violates grace; for salvation to be by grace, it must be given freely, but if a payment is made, grace is not given freely, and hence, ceases to be grace. Of course, the heretical view of the person of Christ contributes to this conception, for the possibility of the creditor paying the debt himself is not entertained. Thus, the Father’s requirement of payment is seen as an abrogation of grace precisely because the payment is made by another (i.e., the Son). Third, they claim that the Satisfaction theory is logically flawed on several counts. For example, they question the claim that the death of one can pay for the deaths of many. One eternal death could only pay for one eternal damnation. So, Jesus's death could only pay for one sinner, not all, and if it is argued that all eternal deaths can be paid by Jesus because he is divine and therefore, infinite, a problem arises. For the infinity of the Son to be applied to the payment made, the divinity of the Son had to make the payment (i.e., suffer eternal death). The Socinians see the idea of God dying/suffering as incoherent. Similarly, they argue that the Satisfaction theory promotes more love of Christ than of God, for God seems bent on injuring us, while Christ seems to love us, but this is distorted. Fourth, they complain that the Satisfaction theory promotes sin because it claims that future sins are already forgiven, thus removing the disincentive to sin. Last, they charge that the Satisfaction theory improperly conceives of God’s attributes in opposition; his mercy and justice seem to war against one another. Ultimately, they claim, these attributes are misconstrued: “For what is that justice, and what too that mercy, which punishes the innocent, and absolves the guilty?,” The Racovian Catechism 5.8, trans. Thomas Rees (London: Longman, Horst, Rees, Orme & Brown, 1818), 308.
15. So, we may speak of man as captive to sins themselves (sin, the world, the devil, and death), and we may speak of God and Christ as the redeemer(s), and we may also speak of the ransom price as Christ (or his soul), but this is not properly a redemption (purchasing): “The only difference lies here, that in this deliverance of us from our sins themselves, no one receives anything under the name of ransom, which must always happen in a redemption properly so called.” Racovian Catechism 5.8, 314.
16. Hugo Grotius, A Defence of the Catholic Faith Concerning the Satisfaction of Christ, against Faustus Socinus, trans. Frank Hugh Foster (Andover, MA: Warren F. Draper, 1889), 75.
17. Ibid., 79.
18. Ibid.,107.
19. Ibid., 110.
20. Thomas C. Oden, The Word of Life (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1989), 414.
21. Millard Erickson, Christian Theology, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2013), 748–52.
22. Presumably under a Molinist interpretation, God would make use of a counterfactual of creaturely freedom very much like the following in order to decide what sort of world to make, who to save, and how to meet his desired ends:
If God were to create beings in his image and were to invite them to enjoy fellowship with him, they would freely choose to sin and incur his just wrath, and if in these circumstances, God were to choose to establish lawful order whereby sin can only be forgiven by the shedding of blood and he were then to pay the price himself for the sins of humanity by dying on the cross, so that his mercy and justice and holiness were clearly revealed, then the greatest number of humans will freely respond in faith and love to God’s offer of salvation.
In addition, as will be seen in the chapter on science and creation, it also allows God to ensure that his goals are met through those free decisions, while still allowing the theologian to claim that God could have (at least conceivably) chosen to do things another way.
23. First, God cannot know that if he were to create humans, they would Fall. Many Open Theists have suggested that the Fall required God to react in a way that changed directions. Second, the God of Open Theism cannot know that if Christ were to die on the cross and rise from the dead, it would have the desired effect(s). Many Open Theists doubt that the cross was not in God’s original plan/purposes for creation. In a particularly illuminating moment, John Sanders suggests that the cross was not in God’s original plan and was an adjustment in order to meet the problem of sin. Sanders claims that God willed for Christ to die for humanity and that he was as sure as one can be that the Jewish leadership would have Christ crucified, but there is still an air of uncertainty in God’s knowledge regarding atonement, and the death of Jesus on behalf of sinners appears to be an instance of what Sanders elsewhere refers to as “Plan B.” Sanders makes many references to “Plan B” as a way of speaking of God’s dynamic relationship with his plan for the created order, and plan that is in constant revision in response to changing (and unforeseen) circumstances. See for example, Sanders, The God Who Risks, 58, 64, 231. Sanders writes, “The more traditional view, that the incarnation was not planned until after God learned (in his foreknowledge) about the Fall, implies that although Christ may now be the decisive turning point for human history, he was not so in God’s original plan. Hence, a major readjustment in God’s purposes must be posited in that the incarnation becomes a contingent matter (contra supralapsarianism). My own view is that the incarnation was always planned. Human sin, however, threw up a barrier to the divine project, and God’s planned incarnation had to be adapted in order to overcome it.” Ibid., 103.
In addition, the Openness interpretation suggests that God could not know that the greatest number of humans will freely respond in faith, and this calls God’s rationality into question. If the cross is reactionary and done in some ignorance of the consequences, then it seems unwise, extreme, and kneejerk for him to offer his son as a sacrifice when he has no assurance it will achieve the desired result. Even if he has good reason to think that his sacrifice will achieve the results he desires, we would probably see the offer as premature; after all, we should expect that all other potential salvific actions be attempted first, just in case there were a less costly means by which salvation could be secured.
24. Calvinism sometimes struggles with offering a good answer to the question, “Why did Christ have to die on the cross?” If, on the one hand, the answer given makes appeal to the satisfaction motif and draws upon God’s nature and the Fall to argue that the cross was necessary, then God’s freedom seems compromised. If, on the other hand, the answer given refers to God’s free sovereign choice and appeals to mystery, then the action seems unnecessary. In other words, if God can illicit faith responses in humans by a sheer act of his will without reference to external circumstances, if God creates faith in persons by unilaterally (monergism) regenerating them and irresistibly graciously creating faith in them, then it seems that he should be able to do so without an incarnation and subsequent crucifixion.
25. Stewart does a nice job of tracing the acronym’s “shadowy history,” and calling its continued use into question. Kenneth Stewart, Ten Myths About Calvinism: Recovering the Breadth of the Reformed Tradition (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2011), 79. See in particular, chapter 3, “TULIP Is the Yardstick of the Truly Reformed,” and the Appendix, “The Earliest Known Reference to the TULIP Acronym.” Ibid., 75–96, 291–92. Limited atonement will not be addressed here, largely because it is a contentious issue, even among Calvinists. In fact, there is good reason to think that Calvin himself did not hold to it.
26. The term, “Fall,” refers to both Adam’s specific act of disobedience in eating the forbidden fruit and the negative effects of that sin upon the creation generally and humanity specifically.
27. Martin Luther, “The Bondage of the Will,” in Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings, ed. Timothy F. Lull (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 201.
28. After all, so the argument goes, if God can save all persons and he is by nature loving and gracious, and if saving persons just is an act of grace and love, then it seems that he ought to save all. The fact is that in choosing some for salvation, he necessarily chooses the others for condemnation, and therefore, Calvinist election results in a double-predestination, a result that is inherently unloving and contrary to the revelation of God in the Bible.
29. Roger E. Olson, Against Calvinism (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 111. The quote comes from a chapter entitled, “Yes to Election; No to Double-Predestination,” which includes an extended discussion of criticisms of double-predestination and unconditional election by critics of Calvinism, as well as defenses by Calvinist authors. Ibid., 102–35.
30. R. C. Sproul, Chosen By God (Wheaton: Tyndale, 1988), 37. Ironically, most Arminians (and Molinists) agree with Sproul’s claim here, taken literally at face value. No one questions the power of God to save all, and no one (orthodox on divine foreknowledge and predestination) denies that God does not choose to save all, and all agree that God is not obligated to save anyone. However, it is clear that when Sproul appeals to divine omnipotence, he means to claim that God really could save all, not just make reference to the vastness of God’s power. Thus, it is the implications in Sproul’s statement with which Arminians take issue, not the factual claims.
31. They consistently argue that God is able to save all because he is sovereign and really can get whatever he wants. Consider the following quotation from Jonathan Edwards. The emphasis is upon God’s moral authority to decide whom to save, if any, but it is clear that he also means to communicate that God’s omnipotence requires that he have unrestrained ability (save his own nature) to do as he wishes, and so the ratio of saved to lost becomes a perfect reflection of his desires and will. He writes, “When men are fallen, and become sinful, God by his sovereignty has a right to determine about their redemption as he pleases. He has a right to determine whenever he will redeem any or no. He might, if he had pleased, have left all to perish, or might have redeemed all. Or, he may redeem some, and leave others; and if he doth so, he may take whom he pleases, and leave whom he pleases.” Jonathan Edwards, The Justice of God in the Damnation of Sinners 2.3 (Newark, NJ: John Tuttle, 1814), 14.
32. Some may complain that I have been particularly unfair to Calvinism here, and may challenge my claim regarding the opposition of divine holiness/justice and love/mercy. It is true that most Calvinists would deny this characterization, but it often seems that Calvinists put greater emphasis on holiness and/or omnipotence, while Arminians place greater emphasis on love. Both are based on a misguided notion that one attribute is primary, to the denigration or exclusion of the others.
33. Some may wish to claim that it is God’s desire to save all at odds with his choice to create persons with libertarian freedom and the ability to reject the offer of salvation. I see this as not substantially different from what I have written, though the statement in the body of the text places more responsibility upon the creatures.
34. Loraine Boettner, The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination, (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian & Reformed, 1932), 96.
35. John Miley, Systematic Theology (New York: Hunt & Eaton, 1893), 2:263. Calvinist Michael Horton argues that the Arminian appeal to conditional election based on foreknowledge does not escape the force of Arminian complaints against Calvinist soteriology: “Many find conditional election (based on foreseen faith) attractive out of a concern to protect God from the charge of injustice. However, mere foreknowledge does not resolve the problem of evil or the final judgment of the lost.” Horton, For Calvinism, 58. As previously noted, in one sense, Horton is certainly correct; no position orthodox on providence can fully escape the problem of evil, and no position orthodox on election can fully escape the problems of double predestination. However, Horton seems to be addressing the position that has come to be known as simple foreknowledge, which denies God has middle knowledge and instead suggests that God uses his knowledge of the actual future to guide his providential activity. At risk of grave oversimplification, it may be claimed that such knowledge provides God no help in directing the future; his knowledge of what will be the case cannot aid his decisions about what to bring about because what he will bring about is included or built into that knowledge. Since Horton claims that “mere foreknowledge” cannot resolve the problem, he is surely correct. However, middle knowledge can prove useful to God in his decisions about how to guide the future and it can alleviate some of the problems associated with the doctrine of election.
36. In his discussion of the “well-meant gospel call”—that God really means to offer salvation to all hearers of the gospel if they were to repent and believe—Hoekema considers the apparent contradiction between the doctrines of definite election (unconditional election) and limited atonement on the one hand, and a real gospel offer on the other hand. He criticizes those, like Herman Hoeksema, who deny God’s desire that all be saved and that a genuine offer is made, as holding to “an overly rationalistic” theology. He appeals to divine transcendence as the answer, but then chalks it up to paradox: “Since the Scriptures teach both eternal election and the well-meant gospel call, we must continue to hold on to both, even though we cannot reconcile these two teachings with our finite minds. We should remember that we cannot lock God up in the prison of human logic. Our theology must maintain the Scriptural paradox.” Anthony A. Hoekema, Saved by Grace (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989), 79. It seems that Hoekema has here equated paradox and a lack/violation of the laws of logic, but this leads to a problem. There is no such thing as “human” logic, as a category separate from other forms of logic or from the fundamental laws of logic, upon which all rationality depends. To violate the laws of logic just is to be incoherent, and if rationality is an essential attribute of God, then it makes no sense to suppose he can suspend, violate, or work outside of those laws; they are not laws which impose themselves upon him, but rather are expressions of his nature. In addition, as noted already, the two truths are not necessarily opposed/contraries. They may be reconciled by appeal to Molinism.
37. This emphasis was particularly clear in the revivalist preaching of the eighteenth century, and can even be seen among Calvinists of the era. For example, Charles G. Finney, out of concern for the waning evangelistic zeal among some Calvinists, offered a series of lectures on how revival may be induced by appeal to the emotions. Ironically, while he meant his concerns to be primarily “in-house,” they were picked up by Arminian pastors/evangelists. Finney wrote, “Religion is the work of man. It is something for man to do. It consists in obeying God with and from the heart. It is man’s duty. It is true, God induces him to do it.” Charles G. Finney, Lectures on Revivals of Religion, rev. ed. (1835; New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1868), 9. Finney flatly denies that revival is a miracle, and instead claims that it results from natural means applied properly. In this, it is clear that he means there are things that can be done which facilitate emotional responses (in his words, “excitements”) that make people more likely to respond favorably to God’s call. Ibid., 12. However, Finney also clearly states that a work of God on the heart of the individual is necessary for salvation: “But means will not produce a revival, we all know, without the blessing of God. No more will grain, when it is sowed, produce a crop without the blessing of God.” Ibid., 13. Still, Finney uses the analogy between revival and grain to argue that human means are necessary in evangelization and in setting the conditions for revival, just as they are in planting and growing grain. Ibid., 13–14. Finney’s concern to undermine the laissez-faire approach to the gospel by highlighting the human component served to bolster Arminian emphases upon the individual sinner’s choice for God, even though Finney did not mean for this to be the case.
38. The two fundamental distinctions are the relationship between regeneration and faith and the conception of creaturely freedom. Calvinists assert that regeneration must precede faith, while Arminians claim that regeneration is a work of God in response to one’s faith. Calvinists hold that free creatures only possess compatibilist freedom, while Arminians claim libertarian freedom for humans and angels.
39. For example, in Berkhof’s discussion of regeneration and effectual calling, he argues that regeneration is an instantaneous shift of one’s nature, not a gradual work in the soul. He sets his view in opposition to Roman Catholicism and “all semi-Pelagians,” who he believes teach some form of “intermediate stage between life and death.” Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology (1939; repr. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993), 468. Berkhof’s assumption that Arminians (who he calls “semi-Pelagians”) teach an intermediate state or a progressive regeneration is based on his theological presupposition that regeneration is necessary for saving faith. With that as a starting point, he cannot allow for an interpretation of the Holy Spirit’s work in salvation that enables a real faith response by the individual that is not also salvific. The categories are foreign to his theology.
40. Berkhof writes, “The change may take place without man’s being conscious of it momentarily, though this is not the case when regeneration and conversion coincide; and even later on he can perceive it only in its effects. This explains the fact that a Christian may, on the one hand, struggle for a long time with doubts and uncertainties, and can yet, on the other hand, gradually overcome these and rise to the heights of assurance.” Ibid., 469. Notice that the example Berkhof uses does not seem to refer to someone who claims to lack faith, but continues to do the things that may lead to faith. Rather, it seems to refer to someone who comes to faith, but then struggles with doubts.
41. The analogy to Jekyll and Hyde is from Hoekema, Saved by Grace, 204.
42. Ibid., 214.
43. Hoekema correctly notes the diversity of images for sanctification, and that there is a definitive as well as progressive way of speaking of sanctification. Ibid, 202–9.
44. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 3 vols., ed. James T. Dennison, Jr., trans. George Musgrave Giger (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian & Reformed, 1994), 2:553–54.
45. Kittelson describes Luther’s conscience as “an unforgiving monster,” and notes that Staupitz’s care for Luther as a young, struggling monk greatly aided his spiritual care. Luther himself claimed that Staupitz prevented him from sinking into the pits of hell. James M. Kittelson, Luther the Reformer: The Story of the Man and His Career (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1986), 84.
46. He admitted that he was open to being convinced otherwise from the Scriptures and that some passages seem to teach the possibility of apostasy. He wrote, “Though I here openly and ingenuously affirm, I never taught that a true believer can, either totally or finally fall away from the faith, and perish. Yet I will not conceal, that there are passages of Scripture which seem to me to wear this aspect; and those answers to them which I have been permitted to see, are not of such a kind as to approve themselves on all points to my understanding. On the other hand, certain passages are produced for the contrary doctrine [of unconditional perseverance] which are worthy of much consideration.” James Arminius, Arminius Speaks: Essential Writings on Predestination, Free Will, and the Nature of God, ed. John D. Wagner (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2011), 70.
47. Ibid., 69.
48. Keathley does a fine job of discussing the difficulty for modern Calvinists, especially those in American evangelicalism, where Edwards’ theology is so influential. In addressing this problem, Keathley writes, “At this point a number of compatibilists decide to be inconsistent with their advocacy of determinism by affirming that believers have a limited ability to choose to the contrary. R. C. Sproul, Sr. and Robert Peterson both affirm that the redeemed regain a measure of the freedom of integrity. Sproul Sr. explicitly depends on Augustine rather than Edwards when he declares that the regenerate regain what Adam lost, i.e., the simultaneous abilities to sin and to not sin.” Kenneth Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty: A Molinist Approach (Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 2010), 90. He notes further that Sproul goes on to actually affirm synergism in sanctification! Other Calvinists (e.g., Piper, Tiessen), though, appeal to the two wills in God (e.g., revealed vs. secret, etc.), in order to argue that God simply withholds sufficient grace from believers for holiness (presumably in his secret/permissive will, he has a purpose for their sin). Keathley rightly questions this move because of what it seems to assert about God: “Let me be clear: I believe that there is much about God’s ultimate will we do not know, and that God often works through the evil deeds of humans (Gen. 50:10; Isa. 10:5–15; Acts 2:23). However, I do not believe that when a Christian commits a specific sin it is because God inscrutably withholds sufficient grace. The Bible teaches that, while we may not achieve sinless perfection in this age, victory over any particular sin is always a real prospect for the believer (Gal 5:16).” Ibid.
49. Richard Foster even suggests that unbelievers can practice the spiritual disciplines if they have a desire to seek God. It should also be noted, though, that Foster places great emphasis upon the inward attitude, over against the outward action. That is, while the disciplines are surely practices and are an outward work of the individual seeking spiritual growth, the key to the disciplines’ effectiveness is the Godward eye of the practitioner and (more importantly) the work of the Holy Spirit upon the individual. Otherwise, his efforts are a chasing after the wind. Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth (San Francisco: Harper, 1978, 1998), 2.
50. Of course, this is not absolute, as the philosophical debate over free will and responsibility has a long pedigree and has been addressed elsewhere in this volume.
51. There are some examples where it may be thought that the gifts manifested themselves apart from an exercise of an individual’s will (e.g., the possibility of Peter’s shadow healing the sick and lame, Acts 5:15, Cornelius’ household speaking in tongues, Acts 10:44–46, etc.), but they can be answered. For example, there is no indication that Peter’s shadow actually healed anyone, and we are not given enough information about the way the gift of tongues manifested itself at Cornelius’ house.
52. It was characteristic of pagan prophets to release control of their mental faculties in order to be controlled by the deity. In discussing pagan oracles, Sheppard and Herbrechtsmeier write, “The behavior of these divine spokesmen is often thought to have been ecstatic, frenzied, or abnormal in some way, which reflected their possession by the deity (and the absence of personal ego) at the time of transmission.” Gerald T. Sheppard and William E. Herbrechtsmeier, “Prophecy: An Overview,” in The Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. Mircea Eliade (New York: Simon & Schuster Macmillan, 1995), 12:8. See also Mircea Eliade, Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, trans. Willard R. Trask (Trenton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1964). This release sometimes involved drug use. There is a somewhat spirited debate regarding the possibility of intoxication as a result of noxious fumes at the Delphic Oracle in ancient Greece. For a positive argument, see Henry A. Spiller, John R. Hale, and Jelle Zeilinga de Boer, “The Delphic Oracle: A Multidisciplinary Defense of the Gaseous Vent Theory,” Clinical Toxicology 40, no. 2 (2002): 189–96. For critical evaluations of their work, see J. Foster and Daryn Lehoux, “The Delphic Oracle and the Ethylene-Intoxication Hypothesis,” Clinical Toxicology 45, no. 1 (2007): 85–89; and Daryn Lehoux, “Drugs and the Delphic Oracle,” Classical World 10, no. 1 (2007): 41–56. In his confrontation with the prophets of Baal and Ashtoreth, Elijah notes the ecstatic nature of the pagan ritual in which they cut themselves and called out uncontrollably (1 Kings 18). By contrast, the depiction of prophecy in Israel was one in which the prophet retained control of his body, actions, and words. For instance, Ezekiel was instructed by God to refrain from mourning his wife’s death as a sign-act for Israel (Ezek. 24:16–18). The obvious implication is that he could have mourned her because he had control of his emotions and actions.