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A Defense of the Reformed Understanding of the Human Will
By pitchford | June 19, 2005
Introduction
The complacency with which many evangelical Christians today regard the question of free will in humanity is an unmistakeable indication of the radical shift in mainstream Protestantism from its Reformed moorings. To Luther and Calvin alike, the idea of a human will that is in all respects bound by its corrupted nature was not only a fact demanding strict adherence; but more than that, it was a principle foundationally requisite for a pure gospel. In The Bondage of the Will, some of Luther’s strongest rebukes to Erasmus address the absolute necessity of arriving at a clear understanding of free will. Replying to Erasmus’s “unheard-of assertion” that the doctrine of free will “is something non-essential”, Luther states,
I think it is vital. If it is ‘irreligious’, ‘idle’, ’superfluous’- your words-to know whether or not God knows anything contingently; whether our will is in any way active in matters relating to eternal salvation, or whether it is merely the passive subject of the work of grace; whether we do our good and evil deeds of mere necessity-whether, that is, we are not rather passive while they are wrought in us-then may I ask what does constitute godly, serious, useful knowledge? (1)
In fact, Luther, does not even stop there, but presses his assertion to the ultimate conclusion that, “If it is not really essential, and is not surely known, then neither God, Christ, the gospel, faith nor anything else even of Judaism, let alone Christianity, is left!” (2) Calvin is equally strong in his insistence that man’s will is completely bound to servitude of sin. In Book Two, Chapter Three of his Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin dedicates a lengthy and powerful discussion to the premise, “Conversion of the will is the effect of divine grace inwardly bestowed.” There, having quoted Ezekiel 36:26,27, he argues that,
If, therefore, a stone is transformed into flesh when God converts us to zeal for the right, whatever is of our own will is effaced. What takes its place is wholly from God. I say that the will is effaced; not in so far as it is will, for in man’s conversion what belongs to his primal nature remains entire. I also say that it is created anew; not meaning that the will now begins to exist, but that it is changed from an evil to a good will. I affirm that this is wholly God’s doing, for according to the testimony of the same apostle, “we are not even capable of thinking” [II Cor. 3:5 p.]. (3)
In summary, for each of these reformers, the bondage of the human will was a matter of foundational importance. For Calvin, the importance of this doctrine was primarily doxological: any merit attributed to man is, to that extent, a detraction from the absolute sovereignty and efficacy of God’s grace. (4) Luther’s emphasis, on the other hand, was the purity of the gospel message. But to both, the matter was of vital significance.
A Survey of the Reformers’ Doctrine
Although Luther and Calvin were in strict agreement on the essential nature of free will, their different emphases led them to approach the topic in divergent ways. Calvin’s treatment almost without exception has the flavor of a theodicy: his immediate goal is the vindication of the glory of God, and he seems to view the enslavement of the will only as a necessary premise to establish that conclusion. Luther, however, was primarily concerned with maintaining the purity of the gospel, and while, no doubt, he would have agreed that the glory of God was the ultimate goal for which he was contending, to vindicate that glory was not his immediatepurpose, as it was with Calvin. Thus, although many of their assertions were the same, they were usually employed in a different matter. This tendency is clearly seen in their treatment of Augustine’s famous analogy of the human will to a horse which is ridden either by Satan or by God. Luther refers to it when he deals with the distinction between necessity and compulsion, and uses it to affirm a positive answer to the rhetorical question, “Does it not clearly follow that when God is not present to work in us, all is evil, and of necessity we act in a way that contributes nothing towards our salvation?” (5) Calvin, citing the same example, prefaces it with the statement, “Then we must answer the question whether we ought to ascribe to God any part of the evil works in which Scripture signifies that some action of his intervenes.” (6) In both of these cases, the overarching theme of each is evident: for Luther, “How does an understanding of the human will affect the way of salvation?”, and for Calvin, “How does an understanding of the human will affect the glory of God?”
Luther
Luther’s primary motivation-maintaining the purity of the gospel-and the circumstances in which he wrote, coupled with a naturally volatile temperament, combine to make The Bondage on the Will a highly polemical and sharply worded attack on false doctrine. Of course his primary opponent was Erasmus of Rotterdam, whose defense of the freedom of the will occasioned Luther’s response; however, Luther never hesitates to attack other positions similar to Erasmus’s as he finds occasion. But The Bondage of the Will is, strictly speaking, a response to Erasmus, whom he addresses throughout, and therefore, Luther’s structure is largely determined by Erasmus. In light, of this, it would perhaps be superfluous to give any sort of outline to The Bondage of the Will; instead, two salient features will be highlighted. First, Luther attacks without compunction any doctrine that even savors of human volitional autonomy. In fact, he seems to grow more unyielding the closer anyone ventures to his position without embracing it unreservedly-presumably because he views the less extreme error as more subtle and equally deadly. For example, Luther condemns Erasmus more harshly even than Pelagius for “seeking to purchase the grace of God at a much cheaper rate than the Pelagians. The latter assert that it is not by a feeble something within us that we obtain grace, but by efforts and works that are complete, entire, perfect, many and mighty; but our friends here tell us that it is by something very small, almost nothing, that we merit grace.” (7) Second, Luther seizes any occasion, scripture verse, syllogism, etc. that he can find to drag the will, by any means necessary, under the bonds of a corrupt nature. This results in a daunting catalog of assaults on free will which, although not illogical in its component parts, does lack overall cohesiveness. In short, if Luther had intended a systematic doctrinal treatise, The Bondage of the Will would be a failure. But as a polemical work intended to establish by many irrefutable proofs the necessity of human volitional bondage for pure gospel proclamation, it was, and remains today, an outstanding success.
Calvin
Calvin, equally firm on the bondage of the will, differs from Luther in that he is less passionate and more systematic. This is due not only to the vastly different personalities of the two, but also to their different purposes in writing. Calvin, as was earlier established, was chiefly concerned with the glory and sovereignty of God. His primary task was to relate the discussion of the will to a broader theological context, and therefore his approach, systematic and subordinated to a higher end, is highly appropriate for his purpose. As with Luther, a few of Calvin’s emphases will be cursorily discussed. First, Calvin emphasized the difference in Adam’s estate in the garden from his estate after the fall. Although he recognized man’s current helpless position, he asserted just as strongly that this condition was not man’s nature, only the corruption of that nature - “for if any defect were proved to inhere in nature, this would bring reproach upon [God].” Therefore, Calvin would go on to say, “we must so deal with the calamity of mankind that we may cut off every shift, and may vindicate God’s justice from every accusation.” (8) Second, he emphasized a twofold error in supposing that any shred of freedom had carried over from the Garden to succour man in his fallen estate: both parts of this error he sums up in the statement, “Nothing, however slight, can be credited to man without depriving God of his honor, and without man himself falling into ruin through brazen confidence.” (9) The theme of this dual effect of boasting in human will - dishonoring God and securing man’s misery - is an oft-repeated sentiment throughout the Institutes. Third, Calvin emphasized the motivation behind specific acts. He made this distinction in order, once again, to vindicate the righteousness of God in ordaining events for which the corrupt men who carried them out were justly condemned. In Book One, Chapter Eighteen of the Institutes, Calvin demonstrates that God caused the suffering of Job, but for righteous ends - to show his glory and strengthen the faith of his servants. He shows also that Satan caused the suffering of Job, but in order wickedly to assail God’s servant, hoping to overthrow him and reproach God. And finally, the Sabaeans caused the suffering of Job; but their motivation was greed and cruelty, and their action was against the law of God. Therefore, in willing the same action, God alone is still righteous because of the righteous manner and purpose of his act. (10) Once again, it is clear that Calvin’s primary concern in dealing with the corruption of the human will is the righteousness and glory of God.
A Modern Defense
Although Luther and Calvin were operating in an entirely different milieu from today’s evangelical Christian, the substance of what they had to say on the issue of free will is as desperately needed in modern society as it was in their own. To many people today, saved and unsaved alike, a free will is the last island of human dignity: take everything from a man, and he still has his free will; he is still able to choose freely the things which pertain to his agency (i.e. his thoughts, attitudes, actions, etc.) In short, he is stillautonomous, or self-governing. But is human will really free? Before we can answer that, we must make the distinction between freedom and autonomy. By freedom, we mean the absence of any external compulsion - no one is forcing us to behave a certain way from the outside. By autonomy we mean self-determining: nothing from the inside - our knowledge, emotions, nature, etc. - determines our decisions. All of these things may affect our will, but in the end we may arbitrarily choose either with or against them. The basic question we have to deal with, when we consider the nature of human freedom is this: Are we able to determine what sort of creature we will be by using our will, or does what sort of creature we already are determine how we will use our will? In light of these definitions, it becomes obvious that man’s will does have a measure of freedom: if we say that someone is externally coerced to perform an action, all we mean is that he was forced to do something against his will. It is a contradiction in terms to say that someone may force a person’s will against his will. A person may be bound in action - compelled to do something - but still free to will something different. So the will is always free from external coercion. However, this does not mean that nothing external maychange a person’s will. If I saw a twenty dollar bill in the street, that external input would affect my will to bend down and pick it up. It would not force my will against itself to perform that action, but it would produce the action in me just as really, by working through my natural inclinations. So the will in this case is changed by external means, but not forced against itself. This is the sense in which the will is “free”. It is never forced against itself. However, this is not the sense in which most people use the word “freedom” in referring to the will. In their estimation, the will is not only free, but it is also autonomous: it is ultimately self-determining. This thinking has existed in man from the time of the fall, but recently it has been written and spoken more explicitly than ever before, particularly in the school of thought known as Existentialism; the concept of self-determining freewill is central to existential thought. In an essay entitled “Man Has No Nature”, existentialist philosopher Jose Ortega states, “Man must not only make himself…he has to determine what he is going to be.” (11) This freedom is radically different from a freedom that only negates external compulsion: it views man as his own shaper. To Ortega, “to be free means to be lacking in constitutive identity”; therefore, “man [because he is ‘free’] is the novelist of himself.” (12) This idea of human freedom is not peculiar to the existentialists: it is foundational in one form or another to human rebellion from the beginning. Even in a typical Bible-believing, gospel-preaching church, it is often possible to detect subtle traces - sometimes even an outright acceptance - of this mindset. Man’s destiny is viewed as being in his own hands: he is, to some degree, the master of his fate - the completer of his salvation.
But how significant is this? If we all believe that the work of Christ was necessary for salvation and the Christian life, does it really matter all that much who chose whom? Does it matter, in practical significance, whether a free human will is a necessary component for the completion of salvation, or a changed human will is simply a result of God’s complete work of salvation? The text of I Corinthians 1:29-31, “So that no flesh may boast before God…in order that, as it is written, ‘He who boasts, let him boast in the Lord,’” strongly argues that it does matter whether we believe the human will is efficacious or meritorious in contributing to salvation, for then there would be some cause, for boasting, or recognizing merit in something, outside of the Lord. But even apart from that, there is practically speaking a vast difference in methods of evangelism, emphases in preaching, strategies for pursuing sanctification, and so on, that is contingent upon this very question. A philosophy which emphasizes free human will is almost certain to lead to a plan of evangelism which tries to argue, reason, or coax the lost into the Kingdom, instead of a completely scripture-based and Spirit-reliant declaration of the plain gospel; it will lead to preaching that is centered on the person in the pew and his responsibility, almost to the exclusion of the portrayal of the person of Christ and faith in scripture as the means by which change may come about; it will lead to a strategy for sanctification which relies on “fences” of rules that are intended to corral and subdue the flesh, without recognizing that grace through faith is as essential for Christian living as for salvation. And an understanding of the human will has a vital influence in our response to I Corinthians 1:31. It significantly affects whether or not we will allow ourselves to be consumed with boasting in the Lord - to the exclusion of any boast in ourselves. So with this in mind, keeping the distinction between freedomand autonomy clear, let’s trace the estate of the human will from the time of Adam in the garden.
Man in the Garden
When Adam tended the garden with Eve, before sin entered the human race, he was in the most perfect state of freedom that man has ever been in; however, he was neither unrestricted nor autonomous. He was required to tend the garden and to exercise dominion over the animal kingdom; he was forbidden to eat the fruit of a certain tree; he was expected to fellowship with God in the cool of the evening, and to cleave unto his wife: nevertheless, he was free. What was the difference between Adam’s situation and ours today? There is only one: Adam delighted to do all of those things he was expected to do, and had no desire for anything else. Adam was free because his will was in perfect alignment with God’s expectations for him. He was able to follow every desire of his heart, because his heart and desires were free to be what God created them to be. Adam’s freedom was not a freedom from, but a freedom to. He was free to be what he was supposed to be. This is in perfect harmony with our definition of freedom: “the absence of any external compulsion which forces the will against itself.” But when man was the most free, he was the least autonomous. He had not the slightest thought of self-government; he had no desire to be anything other than what God had made him to be. The lesson we can learn from Adam is that true human freedom is antithetical to supposed human autonomy. (13) Now, understanding the nature of Adam’s freedom, consider what happened at the fall: Satan came and questioned God’s authority; he questioned whether man could ever be truly happy and fulfilled while living under God’s rules; he suggested how much more man could be if he were able to determine his own fate, to be his own master, to govern himself. In short, he suggested that man ought to be autonomous. Before Adam fell, he had been free to follow God’s will; when he sought autonomy, he lost that freedom, and became enslaved to his own desires, and no longer able to follow God’s decrees. In short, he gained a sin nature. In reaching for autonomy, he destroyed his freedom, and became bound by the very thing he sought after. He never found the autonomy he sought: after the fall he was just as much under the commandments of God as he had been before; but now he was bound by his nature, and unable to fulfill his obligations. He had lost his freedom.
Man is Bound by his Nature
The effects of that first sin were catastrophic. Adam’s sin plunged all mankind into total depravity; now man is unable to follow God’s commands or to delight in the things of God, because he is opposed to those things by his very nature. The beginning of the book of Romans catalogues man’s plunge into degeneracy, climaxing in chapter 3, verses 10-18. Here we find that man’s corruption extends to every part of his being. Nothing is left out, least of all his will, for “there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God.” Man in his Adamic nature will never desire or choose God. His “free” will profits him nothing in matters of salvation and righteousness, for his will always acts in accordance with his nature: and his nature is against God. The radical extent of this enslavement of man’s will to a sinful nature may be more fully understood by an examination of the relationship that the will has to understanding and desire. The will always chooses what is perceived as the greatest good, or the most desired object. To will something is nothing other than to desire it, or to prefer it to all other possibilities. It is impossible for someone to will something against his desire, because to will is nothing other than to desire; it would be a contradiction in terms. Now consider how desire relates to understanding: desire always follows what the understanding has perceived to be the greatest good. If I bend down to pick up a twenty dollar bill, I have done nothing other than to desire that action above any other I could have made at the time: I have preferred it above all other possibilities. But that desire only expresses my understanding of the situation. I understood that picking up the bill was preferable to walking by it; my understanding of the greatest good produced my highest desire for that situation; therefore, my action of picking up the bill was determined by my understanding and desire. If I had not picked up the bill, it would have demonstrated either that I did not desire to or that I was not able to. These considerations lead to a foundational principle: the will always performs the highest desire that is in its power. It is logically impossible to say that someone could choose not to do his highest desire, because to choose is only to use the will or desire; if he chose not to do something, he proved that he had a higher desire not to do the thing than to do it. (14) So, to assert that a man by his will may seek or choose God is to assert that he may understand that God is preferable to all else, and therefore he is able to desire God above all else, including his own autonomy: the indictment of Romans 3:10 against man’s capacity to choose God is therefore doubly damning: “There is none that understandeth,there is none that seeketh after God.” As we understand how totally helpless we are by nature, how much more precious to us is verse 24 of the same chapter, “Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” When we realize the complete lack of any reason to boast in our will, our only response is to boast in the free grace of God.
This understanding of the extent of man’s depravity and the bondage of his will to his own sinful nature and inadequate understanding makes it painfully apparent that we are naturally unable even to believe in God: we are unable to save ourselves and we are unwilling to turn to the only one who is able to save us: we are incapable of saving faith. One further consideration - the nature of salvation-appropriating faith - makes this inability, in light of our understanding of the will, even more clear. Hebrews 11:6 says, “But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.” It is only as we believe that we are able to please God; for if we truly believe that God rewards, that understanding of the greatest good will produce in us a desire: we will choose God and obey and delight in him, because we understand that it is the greatest good - it is our highest desire. There is, then, a vital link between obedience and faith: every act of obedience proves we believe that God’s will is the greatest good, and every act of disobedience proves that we believed something at that time to be a greater good than the will of God. The lack of obedience proves the absence of real faith: “But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?” (James 2:20). So, if a man were able to believe on God, he would equally be able to obey and to please him. But no man, of his own power, is able to produce this faith in himself. Works are always a result of faith - but faith is a result of God’s free grace, so there is no room for boasting. “The just shall live by faith.”
We have just established two things: that faith alone is the condition of salvation, and that man in his natural estate has no understanding or desire for God, and hence, no capacity for faith. So if anyone comes to faith in Christ, he still has no merit of which he may boast: in faith there can be no more room for boasting than there is for boasting in works. Faith itself is the gift of God. Nor is this truth simply a deduction from these two principles: it is also very clearly expressed throughout the New Testament: Acts 5:31 says, “Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins.” Acts 11:18, “Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.” Philippians 1:29, “For unto you it is given in behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake.” II Timothy 2:25, “If God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth”. All of these verses declare plainly that faith and repentance are the gift of God. All of salvation is the free work of God. Salvation only occurs when God, in his sovereign mercy, takes a sinner who has no capacity even to seek him or believe in him, and changes his nature so that he will believe, repent, and be saved - all to the praise of the glory of his grace. There is no room for boasting, except in the glory of God.
Possible Objections
This doctrine of the enslavement of man’s will to sin and God’s free and sovereign grace in overcoming that enslavement is so antithetical to any concept of human merit, that it has been vehemently denied by various arguments throughout the centuries. Perhaps the most common of these objections is the suggestion that the universal offer of grace is incompatible with the unwillingness of man to turn to God. One who is presenting this argument will often cite many passages offering salvation to all who will believe, and then use the large number of such instances to substantiate his claim that the offer to all who will believe indicates that there are some who are by nature willing. However, this argument leaves out a very vital point: as many passages as there are offering salvation freely to all who will, there are virtually as many which declare plainly that none will; and there are many more besides that show God’s prerogative freely to overcome that unwillingness in all whom he has chosen. We read in Matthew 11:28, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”; but in John 6:44 we find, “no man can come unto me [man’s inability] except the Father which hath sent me draw him” [God’s sovereign grace]. Similarly, in John 3:16, we read, “Whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life”; but just a few verses later, we find that “men loved darkness rather than light: For everyone that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light” [man’s unwillingness]; then, in verse 21, “But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God” [i.e. “brought about by God” - God’s sovereign grace]. So also, though we hear in Isaiah 55:6, “Seek ye the Lord while he may be found,” we find in Romans 3:11 “There is none that seeketh.” Though we hear in Acts 17:30, “[God] commandeth all men everywhere to repent,” we find in John 8:47, “You do not hear, because you are not of God.” Though we read in John 1:12, “As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God,” we find in I Corinthians 2:14, “But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him.” There is a whole host of similar examples, which it would be superfluous to cite; but even though man’s unwillingness is as strong a strain in scriptures as God’s free invitation, there is an equally strong motif that reconciles the seemingly insurmountable obstacle, in a way that brings glory solely to God - the motif of God’s free grace. In John 1:12-13, those who receive him are said to be born, “not of blood, nor of the will of man, but of God.” In John 6:37, Christ tells us that, “All that the Father gives me will come to me.” In Ezekiel 36:26, God promises, “A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh.” This is only scratching the surface of the overwhelming testimony of scriptures to God’s glorious power in overcoming man’s unwillingness to seek after him. When we recognize the immense obstacle that God overcame in calling us to himself, how can we do anything other than boast in the Lord? Perhaps the most fitting conclusion to this paragraph is an immensely powerful statement from Psalm 110:3, “Thy people shall be willing in the day of the power.” How glorious is our God!
Another objection, quite similar to the first, focuses on the imperatives of scripture. The first objection, citing invitations, supposed man’s natural willingness; this one, citing imperatives, supposes man’s moral ability to follow them. Just as with the first, there are two answers to this objection. One is logical: there is nothing in obligation that demands ability; another is scriptural: man’s inability is repeatedly taught throughout scripture. This argument, that if man is given a commandment his ability to obey it is presupposed, is more destructive than the first, for it undercuts the very nature of the gospel - that man does have a moral obligation, and is absolutely unable to fulfill it. If a murderer is apprehended, nearly everyone will confess that he is morally responsible for the things that he has done; but so also will they confess that he is completely unable to provide a sufficient recompense for his deeds; they are far too vast: he has destroyed human life. For anyone who would receive the gospel, it is vital to understand that this is essentially the condition of man before God: God has given imperatives that man is utterly unable to keep. Any man who gives credence to the scriptures must admit this truth: so if there are confessedly some commandments which man must obey and yet cannot, why should the greatest commandment of all be within man’s moral ability, simply because it is a commandment? Some would say that this denial of human ability to follow a commandment is a denial of the very nature of an imperative - to make it meaningless. But the scriptures are very clear concerning the purpose of impossible commandments: they are a “schoolmaster, to bring us to Christ” (Galatians 3:24). In Romans 7:9, Paul says, “I was alive without the law once; but when the commandment cam, sin revived, and I died.” This “death”, brought about by inability to obey God’s imperatives, was a necessary step in Paul’s coming to Christ. For, “They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick” (Matthew 9:12). The idea that a divine imperative necessitates an ability to follow it is not only impossible to demonstrate, but it also denies a scriptural principle that is at the foundation of the gospel itself.
A third objection that has been suggested to the doctrine of man’s bondage to sin concerns the mercy and goodness of God. How can God be sovereign over man’s will in the matter of salvation, and still be good? What about verses such as Ezekiel 18:23, “Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? Saith the Lord God”; and II Peter 3:9, “The Lord is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance”? At its heart, this argument presupposes a human understanding of the mercy of God: if God is able to overcome man’s will and give him mercy, but chooses not to, then he must not really be merciful. And the argument proceeds one step further, if God chooses not to overcome man’s will and give him mercy, he would be unjust still to find fault with that man - for “who has resisted his will?” In short, this argument takes us directly to the position of the objector in Romans 9, to whom Paul’s first response was, “Who are you to find fault with God?” This position is derived from two basic misconceptions: first, it presupposes that man deserves something; that since he is hopelessly wicked he is entitled to mercy - even when he refuses the mercy that is freely offered to him. It strips man of his depravity and rebellion, and makes him a victim, no longer responsible for his actions because of his helplessness. More significantly, the position presupposes an inadequate understanding of God - that there is unrighteousness in God, because he has not chosen to show mercy to a sinful man who has already rejected the mercy which was offered him. Paul’s only response to this unthinkable accusation - that there may be unrighteousness with God - is a resounding “God forbid!” - may it never be! Certainly none of us would desire to be in this objector’s position; so how then do we account for this seeming contradiction? Is there anything in scripture that would help us understand how God’s sovereignty can be reconciled with statements such as we have just cited from II Peter 3:9? There are two observations that I would make here: first, both of these principles are clearly taught in scripture; if we cannot reconcile them, the fault is with our ability to understand, not with the truth of either of these doctrines. We should determine before we even begin to look for an explanation that any system which denies one or the other is flawed, and we have no business even trifling with such scripture-denying ideas. Second, I would suggest that there is really no contradiction in God’s desire for all to come to repentance, and his sovereignty in bringing to repentance all whom he has chosen. Although there are certainly mysteries of God’s work of salvation that are hidden away in the depths of divine wisdom, beyond our ability to understand, I believe that it is within our capacity to understand, if not the depths of God’s redemptive wonders, at least that these two truths are not mutually exclusive. Let’s consider the situation for a moment.
Previously this paper demonstrated that to will something is simply to prefer it above all other possibilities. Our highest desire in any situation determines our final, determinative will. However, this does not necessitate the absence of any other desire or will for the situation, it just shows that all other desires, in the final analysis, were lesser desires than the one that was ultimately chosen. If I went to a restaurant and ordered a hamburger, that does not mean that I had no desire for a hot dog: it simply means that my desire for a hot dog was a lesser desire than my desire for a hamburger. In another situation, at another time, my desire for a hot dog might be the highest desire - or even at the same time, if a hamburger were not available, I might be completely satisfied with a hot dog. The whole time, I may have had a desire for a hot dog, but when I weighed my two desires in the balances, I found that it was only second best. This may very well be the case with God’s desire for all to be saved. We know that this desire is a genuine and fervent desire of God’s: we find that in II Peter 3:9, Ezekiel 18:23, and Matthew 23:37, where Jesus weeps over Jerusalem and expresses his desire to heal them if they would let him. However, that Jesus, himself sovereign God, allowed Jerusalem to go on rejecting him, indicated that he had a higher desire even than that over which he wept so bitterly - whether this desire was simply to allow them to follow their own rebellious wills to destruction, so that he might make known his glory and just wrath against sin; or the desire to follow his Father’s will to the cross; or some other desire we may not understand, is not our place to determine. We can know that it is God’s desire to show mercy; but we must also understand that God, our Potter, can do with his clay as he pleases; and that God’s reasons for making one vessel to honor and another vessel of the same lump to dishonor are righteous, good, and merciful. We may always rest in God’s goodness and mercy, and praise him for drawing us to him when we were God-haters and depraved - but we may never question God’s sovereignty or his justice or his mercy. To him be all the glory!
We have seen that even if God chooses not to change a rebellious sinner’s will, he is still just; but another question that often arises is this: “How can God, who is righteous, use a sinner’s wicked acts for his own purposes without compromising his righteousness?” Or in other words, “If God is sovereign over man’s will, how can he not be the author of sin?” Consider with me a scenario for a moment: a master marksman is at a competition. He steadies his straight-shooting, fine-tuned rifle, peers through the perfectly aligned scope, and touches off the shot - a perfect bullseye. The marksman has demonstrated to all his consummate ability. Now just suppose the master marksman wanted to demonstrate even further his ability to shoot flawlessly, in spite of all obstacles. He walks over to an old dumpster, finds a weathered, rusted, discarded old rifle and picks it up. There is no scope, the barrel is obviously crooked and the trigger is stiff and awkward. Now, with this worthless old rifle he walks back to the firing line, sights down the crooked barrel, makes adjustments for the bends and crooks, squeezes the uncooperative trigger - a perfect bullseye. This marksman has just demonstrated his ability far more perfectly than he ever could have done with a perfect rifle. The rifle failed to shoot straight; it was uncooperative and “wrong” in all that it did; and in all of its shortcomings the fault was its own, not the marksman’s: yet the marksman was able to use this wrong tool to gain right ends and display his glory. The fault was the rifle’s; the glory was the marksman’s. This is the case with God’s sovereignty. When God uses a sinful tool, he still never fails to accomplish his purposes; the actions of the man he uses may be morally wrong: but the fault remains with the sinner; and for the good outcome to which God directs his wicked actions, God alone gets all the glory. When God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, he didn’t force him against his will. Pharaoh volitionally and freely ( though not autonomously) chose to perform his sinful actions. But God nevertheless hardened his heart in its sinfulness, and directed his will to accomplish his own righteous purposes. God is able to bring good even out of the sinful actions of depraved mankind. Man is responsible for his sin, and God’s glory is displayed before all the world. God is still sovereign and still good.
One last objection which we will consider is this: “If God’s sovereignty extends even over man’s will, does this not make man’s will void? Doesn’t this mean that man lacks any real will whatsoever?” This objection becomes absurd when we consider that God’s creative activity is the basis for all of reality: God created the whole world including man (every part of man) ex nihilo - out of nothing. All of reality is the fruit of this work of God’s creation. So, to the question, “Does God’s sovereignty over man’s will make it void?” the answer is, “No. it gives it reality.” But this is incompatible with the existential idea of the freedom, or autonomy, of the will. The existentialist (and sadly, too many Christians today) believes that man must be the creator of his own will in order for it to be real; and in turn, how he creates his will determines who he will be. Man is essentially self-created, and God’s glory as Creator is assaulted. In truth, God’s sovereignty is the fact which gives human will its reality.
A corollary to this question involves the idea of necessity: the last objection tried to demonstrate that the will has no reality if God is sovereign over it; this one tries to demonstrate that the will has no reality if God knows certainly the future concerning it. As the one objection was an assault on God’s Creatorhood, this one is an assault on his omniscience. The objection may be stated in this way: “If God foreknows all future events, then they must all be necessary; and if all future things, including decisions of the human will, are necessary, then no true decision is being made, and man has no real will.” This objection has been around for quite some time, and the simplest and most certain answer to it is that it is just not a scriptural view of the nature of God. But beyond this, Martin Luther, in his work The Bondage of the Will clarifies the confusion when he demonstrates the difference between the necessity of coercion and the necessity of immutability. While God does immutably and certainly foreknow all acts of the will, and is sovereign over those acts, nevertheless he does not coerce the will to act in opposition to itself. Man still exercises his will freely, according to his nature; but his nature being what it is, the outcome is certain and immutable. (15)
In all of these objections, one common thread may be seen: the objector is willing to overlook, twist, or deny scriptural truths in order to allow for what he has determined must be the nature of the human will. We have come across no convincing logical argument that necessitates that the will be free in the sense that these objectors are convinced it must be free - but even if we did hear an argument that we were unable to answer, that is no warrant for the denial of scripture. If there is ever a conflict between human reason and scriptural teaching, the error is without exception on the side of human reason. As we approach this difficult subject, the one prerequisite is that we must be willing to give up our innate ideas and prideful illusions of autonomy, and embrace the glory of God as it is revealed in scriptures. Only then will we be what we were intended to be - showpieces of the glory of God, freed from sin to be slaves to righteousness, God’s creatures, under his authority, displaying his glory to all the world. As long as we see some cause in ourselves for boasting, even if it be merely the free will to come to God for the forgiveness of sins, we will fail to understand the wonder of what God did for us when he broke the chains of our wills’ enslavement to sin, and freed us to be slaves instead to his righteous and pleasant purposes.
- Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will, trans. J. I. Packer and O. R. Johnston (London: James Clarke & Co., 1957), p. 74.
- Ibid., p. 75.
- John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Ford L. Battles, in vol. XX of The Library of Christian Classics, ed. John T. McNeill (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960), p. 297.
- cf. Ibid., pp. 763-768, where Calvin proposes that any confidence in man “robs God of his honor”, and “provides no peace for the conscience”, in the chapter entitled “Two Things to Be Noted in Free Justification”.
- Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will, trans. J. I. Packer and O. R. Johnston (London: James Clarke & Co., 1957), p. 102.
- John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Ford L. Battles, in vol. XX of The Library of Christian Classics, ed. John T. McNeill (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960), p. 309.
- Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will, trans. J. I. Packer and O. R. Johnston (London: James Clarke & Co., 1957), pp. 293-294.
- John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Ford L. Battles, in vol. XX of The Library of Christian Classics, ed. John t. McNeill (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960), pp. 183-184.
- Ibid., p. 255.
- Ibid., pp. 229-230.
- Jose Ortega, in an article entitled, “Man Has No Nature” published in Existentialism from Dostoyevsky to Sartre, ed. Walter Kaufmann (Meridian Publishing, 1975), 155.
- Ibid., 155-156.
- For further treatment of the “freedom to” concept, see Romans 6:16-23, in which the teaching is given that freedom from sin means enslavement to righteousness, and vice versa.
- For further treatment see Jonathan Edwards, On the Freedom of the Will (Thomas Neslon, Inc., 2000).
- Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will, trans. J. I. Packer and O. R. Johnston (London: James Clarke & Co., 1957), p. 102.
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