Threads from Henry's Web

Tag: Free Will

  • Psalm 119:73 – The Creator’s Rules

    Psalm 119:73 – The Creator’s Rules

    Your hands made me and put me together.
    Give me understanding, and I will learn your commands.

    This verse starts the next eight verse section, but it’s still discussing God’s relation to us. We’ve seen God as good, and also as one who either brings or allows hardship. Now we get to the basics. God is the creator. More precisely, God is our creator.

    This verse illustrates why we bring nothing we independently own to the table. We owe our very existence to God. We are not in a position to demand anything. God created it all and made all the rules. We can say that all understanding as well as all existence comes from God.

    There are hints throughout the psalm that point to our dependence on God to truly carry out God’s commands. This verse points to our dependence on God even for our understanding of what those rules are.

    We often debate about whether we can earn or complete any part of our salvation. In doing so we are missing this one major point. Not only can’t put God under obligation by anything we do, we can’t conceive of how to or not to do so on our own.

    Does this seem oppressive? Well, as created beings we are, by definition dependent. Such independence as we have is made, fashioned, and established (all possible translations of the words of the first half of this verse) by God. Our desires are. Such freedom we have (and I believe in the power of the human will) is also a gift given by God at God’s own choice.

    And we are given great freedom, which we frequently misuse, and the same sovereign, all-powerful God lets us go and do those things.

    My company, Energion Publications, uses the slogan “Educate! Energize! Empower!” If you feel empowered today, remember whose gift that empowerment is.

    Remember that, and enjoy the gift.

    Featured image generated by Jetpack AI.)

  • In Which a Calvinist Annoys and Delights Me

    Or you can call him “Reformed.” I personally dislike that particular term because to many people it implies that other protestants never passed through the reformation, that only the Calvinists “reformed.” All of which can also ignore the adjustments in Catholic theology since the time of the reformation. But that’s all a side issue, and I’m going to use the term anyhow, as those who keep up with theology at all are aware of the current meaning.

    I think that Adrian Warnock has an exceptional ability to pick out annoying portions of quotes, as he does in his post Piper on Leading People Towards Reformed Theology. Now I don’t mean annoying in the sense that it is somehow convicting. I mean it in the sense that it frames the opposition inappropriately, in my view, and in this case it looks a bit arrogant.

    Now having read Adrian’s extract, I clicked on through to Piper’s original words, and while they still contain that which annoys me, to which I’ll respond in a moment, they come in a much better context. Piper, who is an exceptional preacher in my opinion, even or especially when I’m busy disagreeing with him, is providing advice for a Reformed pastor who finds himself pastoring an Arminian congregation. His advice is excellent. I’d advise any pastor who has a congregation that disagrees with him in theology to follow it.

    I think it would work just as well for an Arminian pastor who ends up pastoring a predominantly Reformed congregation, or any pastor who ends up pastoring a congregation that is not in tune with his theology. I’d like to recommend his advice to those United Methodist pastors who end up in a congregation that wants to be entertained, while the pastor wants to become more God-centered. Be who you believe you’re supposed to be. If certain aspects of theology are too difficult or controversial, focusing on God and who God is will be an excellent place to start.

    Similarly, if you’re a liberal pastoring a conservative congregation, you too can focus on God. I assume that if you’re a pastor, you believe that the social imperatives you accept result from who God is and what God desires. So preach about who God is.

    Of course, as Piper notes as well, there may be a time to move on, and I personally would add that one shouldn’t seek out such a mismatch. But I know of a number of United Methodist ministers who feel very challenged by the beliefs (or lack of same) in their congregations, yet believe strongly they are called by God to be where they are.

    All those parts of Piper’s post are a delight. I’m not going to try to quote from it. You need to read the whole thing. In a few paragraphs, Piper gives all of us good advice–provided we ignore the slanted Reformed and Arminian bias, to which I now turn my attention.

    Piper says:

    In other words, a Reformed position mainly means, God is really big, really strong, really powerful, really knowledgeable, really wise, really great, really weighty, and he is going to be big in this service, and we’re going to make a big deal out of God here. There are a lot of born-again Arminian people who like that. It’s because they don’t see the implications of their theology.

    The bottom line here is that this is not really the main Reformed position, at least not in distinction to other positions. I normally like to let people define themselves, but if that definition includes “unlike me” I am quite prepared to object. I too believe God is strong, knowledgeable, wise, and weighty, and you can put however many “really’s” in front of each word, because “infinite” licenses you to do so. I think the worship service should center around divine things as well.

    Arminian theology doesn’t imply anything else either. You see, “God is sovereign” means that God gets to do what God wants, and that includes anything whatsoever that God wants to do, including ordaining free will. Somehow some Calvinists think that predestination gives greater glory to God because it takes human beings out of the equation. But you don’t give greater glory by saying something false about a person or thing. If I praise my hammer as a saw, I’m just being silly. It won’t make it a saw, and it won’t make anyone regard my hammer more highly because of its saw-like attributes.

    I would note the condescension in the final sentence of the quote about us illogical Arminians. It may seem nice to give us the excuse of ignorance or blindness, but it seems to replace a certain spiritual arrogance with an intellectual variety.

    That doesn’t answer the question of who is correct, however, because my argument cuts both ways. If I’m wrong about free will, I do not increase God’s glory by proclaiming it either. That’s beyond the scope of this particular post.

    This ties in with my current series on Interpreting the Bible, and particular my last post in which I said:

    Now how does this apply to my test passages? I want to make clear here that the problem with the passages I cited is not that I don’t like what they say. My feelings about what a passage says do not impact what it’s now dead author meant to say. The ancients said many things that I don’t like. God is represented as saying things that I don’t like in scripture. My dislike of the statement doesn’t alter the intent of that statement.

    When we phrase the problem in that way we open things up for non-Christians to point out that we are simply taking what we like from scripture, for more conservative Christians to suggest that we are discarding passages at will, and for those more liberal to suggest that we haven’t moved far enough.

    The inverse is also possible–when one presents a problem of interpretation which involves an apparent contention of two views in scripture, it is quite easy for one’s opponent to represent this as a problem of trying to discard something one doesn’t like.

    But my major problem with predestination is not that I don’t like it. I admit I don’t, but I also don’t like the command to “take up my cross” and I think that one is absolutely valid and binding! My problem is that I think the doctrine of predestination, as stated in the Westminster Confessions, misrepresents God, who God claims God is.

    So please do go on proclaiming the sovereignty of God. Make God-centered worship services. If you’re an Arminian who has somehow become pastor to a church of Calvinists, do the same. Make your worship services God-centered.

    I am reminded of a friend who was discussing creation and evolution with me who proposed the same type of question. “How can this be reconciled with the Biblical picture of a loving God?” he asked me. Well, that is a difficulty, but it is not a difficulty that will alter the facts on the ground. When you get right down to it, things like the flood and hell fire provide at least as much reason to question one’s picture of God. And evolution occurred (or not) whether I believe it, like it, ignore it, or abhor it.

    Even the Wesleyan-Arminian view of choice leaves many wondering. How can a choice, even by a prevenient-grace-enabled, yet finite human, settle an eternal destiny? Is it fair for God to allow such an uninformed choice to result in eternal consequences? Under this view, were the sinner permitted to look into the pits of hell when making the decision, would it be the same? Of course the word “fair” here begs for definition, but I’m using it because I’m intentionally framing this in a form based on human feeling. The Bible proclaims that God is just, which may not seem fair!

    No, it’s not a question of just how sovereign God is. It’s a question of what we believe God actually has done. I think the evidence, both scriptural and historical, indicates God has, in his sovereign will, left a great deal more to humanity than we would like. But whether we like it or not, God, by definition, gets to make the ultimate choices.

  • Of Necessity and Suffering

    I’ve appreciated much of what John Piper has said about the prosperity gospel. Prosperity theology strikes me as not just false (Biblically and experientially), but particularly dangerous because it either drives one from faith and its actual benefits, or creates a very shallow Christian at best, ready to be driven away at the first difficulty. “Come unto me, all you who want to get rich,” just doesn’t sound much like Jesus to me.

    Via Adrian Warnock’s blog ( PIPER FRIDAY – Suffering is Essential to Christians), I found this set of notes from a talk by John Piper.

    I’m going to use the same quote Adrian did:

    Let me underline one of the statements I’ve already made: Suffering is an essential part of your Christian existence. I choose the word essential very carefully. Paul said to new believers in Acts 14:22, “Through many tribulations we will enter the kingdom of heaven.” This is Christianity 101. Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 3:2-3 that we Christians are destined for suffering. This is your destiny—suffering. Think it not strange when the fiery ordeal comes upon you. And 2 Timothy 3:12: All who desire to live a godly life will be persecuted. And Romans 8:16: We are fellow heirs if we suffer with him. There is one God-appointed path to glorification—suffering. If you are making it your life ambition to avoid suffering, you will perish and suffer forever. And all this Pauline talk is based on Jesus’ talk.

    I am not in disagreement with this statement, but I would take a slightly different angle on the issue. Suffering is an essential part of the way that the universe is put together. The difference in suffering for a Christian is one of perspective, and not one either of suffering exclusively. I’m not in disagreement with Piper here. One commenter at Adrian’s blog seemed to think Piper was indicating that only Christians suffer, which would be a foolish thing to say, not to mention demonstrably false.

    There’s also a reverse link that I have heard frequently, the idea that suffering or receiving persecution indicates that one is right. I hear this frequently about great leaders of the past. If they hadn’t been right, why would they have been so persecuted? This sentiment reflects an awe-inspiring ignorance of history, in which people on all sides of various controversies have suffered persecutions. The trinitarians, who won, were persecuted until they did win. The Arians, however, also suffered for Christ. Gnostics suffered as well. In the reformation, Catholics and all varieties of protestants were persecuted at various times for their beliefs. Persecution is an indication of persistence on the one hand, and a severely overdone desire for control on the other, but it doesn’t tell you whether someone is right.

    Back in March, I wrote about Bill Dembski’s article on theodicy, in which he argues that though evil occurred later in humanity, that evil (the fall) was nonetheless the logical cause of death and suffering. (Note that the article was revised on March 15, 2007, and the date of that post was March 4, 2007. I have not reviewed the article since that revision.) Though I have often written negatively about Dr. Dembski’s work, I find this particular article intriguing and challenging.

    I would suggest, however, that in order for their to be free will there must be options with consequences. Those consequences must offer the full range of results of the choices. Further, if there is both free will and interaction with other creatures, not all consequences of any one creature’s choices will fall on that creature alone. To take a simple example, if I fail to pay my power bill, I’m not the only one who has to sit in the dark. My wife shares that problem with me. If one person takes an incomplete course of an antibiotic, and as a result helps release a resistant strain, the consequences fall on many, not just one.

    One can easily imagine a universe in which there is no suffering, or no negative consequences, but such a universe would simply be a machine. I think it’s difficult if not impossible to demonstrate that the universe is not a machine, though most of us persist in the belief that somehow it is not and that our choices matter.

    Which leads me to a brief excursus on free will. I have heard many folks say there is no free will only to discover that what they mean is that our will is not completely free, i.e. that there are options closed to me. What I am speaking about here is any departure from the purest determinism. If the universe is not perfectly deterministic, and more specifically if my actions are not 100% determined by knowable causes, then I would call that free will. I would imagine a continuum, from pure determinism through absolute freedom. On the one hand, there would be no responsibility, because there would be no I with an input into my decisions. On the other hand, there would be no order against which to observe freedom in action. I’m calling anywhere on the intervening continuum free will. My feeling is that the reality is much, much closer to determinism than to complete freedom.

    I would note with some humor that every time I discuss this I seem to get someone who will tell me that quantum theory demonstrates determinism, and someone else to tell me that it demonstrates that there is some indeterminacy. I don’t know enough about it to argue with either one, though I lean to some level of indeterminacy.

    In any case, let me get back to my point. Suffering exists in the world, and it is a necessity because there is freedom. While I do not understand the physics, I can affirm that the Biblical writers believed in some degree of human freedom and responsibility. The Bible also affirms that God’s servants, even God’s very good servants, suffer. Job is called righteous, and he suffered. Jesus, according to Christian theology, made all the right choices in his life, and he suffered. The question is not whether some form of hardship will come, but rather what will come of the hardship.

    And let me make a little point here. Suffering is hard to measure, and it is probably better not to even try. When our son was suffering from cancer, one of our friends complained to my wife about a problem she had, and then was embarrassed. “How could I complain to you about my tiny problem when you are facing such a big one?” she asked. Well, just what a particular problem does to you isn’t that easily measurable. Even the moment in a situation that is hardest to take differs. I recall my lowest point being when I spoke to the doctor and heard the word that cancer had spread and was not treatable. My wife was overseas leading a mission trip, and I knew it would take hours at best to contact her. I’ve never felt anything like that pain and isolation, even when he died. (It’s coming up on the anniversary of that, September 22, so it’s kind of running through my mind again.)

    My wife Jody has just written a book about grief (which also is making me remember), based on what she learned in 12 years as a hospice nurse and our own experience. In it she said:

    I believe that each loss is personal and the degree of grief or pain is personal and cannot be compared!

    (OK, here’s the shameless advertising plug. The book is Grief: Finding the Candle of Light and should be shipping September 21. She has also written about this on her blog here.)

    The question is not one of quantity or whether or not you will suffer. Suffering is an essential. The question is what you are going to do with it. One of the things both my wife and I have been able to do is to listen with sympathy to people who are undergoing loss, and occasionally even to talk to them. Many people were encouraged by the way that James faced death. That is a good thing that happened. I know a number of people who started to wear “Live Strong” bracelets because of what they saw in James’ life and the way he faced death. More importantly, they determined to “live strong” themselves.

    Those are good things. Now comes the odd question. Did God kill James in order to accomplish those good things? I’ve found that there are some Christians who seem to need to think of it like that in order to deal with what happened. Somehow it’s easier for them to handle if God is doing everything. For others, the thought that God did it is so repugnant that they will deny it with all their force, or alternatively abandon faith because they can’t deny it, and feel certain that God did it.

    There is a sense in which God does everything. He is that First Cause (logically, not temporally) that brought everything into being. If it were not for God there would be no cells, no DNA to have copying errors, and thus no cancer. At the same time, all of those things are results of that basic law of cause and effect without which freedom would have no meaning. Thus as I see it God didn’t give James cancer; James got cancer in God’s world.

    I have been asked how I kept my faith through this struggle. I would say two things about that.

    First, I never thought that my faith would make me exempt from the troubles that are in the world. In other words, my theological thinking about suffering was refined, but not essentially changed by this experience. This is a major reason I oppose prosperity theology. One’s faith is most needed when things are not going so well. Discipline is needed when they are going well.

    Second, however, it was my faith that helped me work my way through it. To ask me why I didn’t abandon my faith in the midst of this difficulty is to ask a man in danger of drowning in heavy seas why he doesn’t let go of the life preserver. He’s in heavy seas, after all! But anyone in that situation would say, “That’s precisely why I’m clinging to this life preserver.”

    Faith will be tested. How and when will vary. You may find it impossible to compare your suffering to someone else’s. The question is whether you will grow from it, or get destroyed by it.

    PS: For more information, see my three essays titled The Hand of God, part 1, part 2, and part 3. These three essays are edited and incorporated in my book Not Ashamed of the Gospel: Confessions of a Liberal Charismatic.

  • Theodicy and Openness Theology

    Some time ago I made a few remarks on Dr. William Dembski’s article, Christian Theodicy in Light of Genesis and Modern Science (last accessed 3/4/07). I think it’s a wonderfully well-written article, though I disagree with his conclusions. I’m going to discuss this article a bit more, but first I want to cover one or two points (in separate posts) that are peripheral. The first one is Dembski’s treatment of openness theology. In general, Dembski is quite fair to his opponents in this article, but I think he misses the boat just a bit on dealing with openness theology, as one generally does when one attributes motivation to other people’s beliefs.

    The entire section to which I want to respond is contained in a single paragraph on page 34 of the essay, starting with this:

    The overwhelming reason for truncating divine foreknowledge in current theological discussion (especially among openness and process theologians) is to assist in the task of theodicy.

    This misses the point somewhat. I certainly did not come to favor openness theology because I needed it for theodicy. In fact, I regard theodicy as a generally doomed business. Theodicy has proven useless to me. When I watched my 17 year old son die after a five year fight with cancer, it was not any principled theodicy that kept my spiritual life alive. It was simple experience of the presence of God, even around the time of death. God is whatever God is.

    No, the problem for me is that there is simply a gap between God as portrayed in different passages of scripture and even the God I experience. I don’t mean that my experience of God challenges scripture. In fact, one of my major reasons for accepting the authority of the Bible is kind of in reverse. The God that I experience in prayer, meditation, and worship, is so effectively described by the vocabulary of the Bible, that I have to accept the probability that my experience is similar to the Biblical writers.

    In fact, my personal experience of God is fractured in similar was to what a surface reading of many Bible passages presents. Without going into great detail, one needs to reconcile the God who “declares the end from the beginning” (Isaiah 46:10) is “the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow” (Hebrews 13:8) and yet “if a nation will turn from its evil, he will change his mind/relent” (Jeremiah 18:1-11). Many of us have become so theologically adept, whether we’re theologians or not, that we can reconcile those texts without thinking, bring the meaning of each into line with our theology.

    Similarly my personal experience of God goes through times of absolute sovereignty in which I feel carried forward without choice, and yet at other times places at which God allows me broad freedom. If my concept of God is too narrow for this experience, how likely is it to be broad enough for an actual infinite God who is the ground of all being?

    For openness theologians in general, and for me in particular, reconciliations of these aspects seem somewhat shallow, and seem to truncate one concept or another. The Bible speaks of humans having choices with consequences, consequences that would be different had humans behaved in a different manner. God repents frequently. In the book of Jonah, the prediction is that Nineveh will be destroyed in 40 days. The people repent, and God repents. God’s grace is given priority over at least the appearance of his foreknowledge.

    Thus my motivation in exploring openness theology is more an effort to give full weight to all of these aspects of scripture and personal experience of God in my theology. I have never seen free will or such broader approaches as openness as all that helpful. In the end, God created absolutely everything, good and bad, whether he did so directly as in special creation or indirectly as in an evolutionary model. If God is the ground of all being–a definition I like–then all chains of causation lead back to God, and all things happen because God wanted the universe to be that way. This remains true whether he limits his foreknowledge or not.

    In such theodicies, a limited God is absolved from having to remove evils for the simple reason that he is incapable of removing them.

    Well, no, not really. In such theologies God would be incapable of creating logical inconsistencies in the universe. Thus the finite beings cannot simultaneously have full freedom and yet be restricted from being evil. I recall interviewing Dr. Richard Rice, one proponent of openness theology a few years back for a conference on the Religion Forum, and he commented that it was not that God could not know everything, but that he chose to create the universe in such a way that he would not know everything. (I lost the transcript of that talk, so that is from memory, but I believe it is an accurate representation.)

    But why engage in such theodicies at all? No sound arguments show that divine foreknowledge is logically incoherent. To argue against God knowing future contingent propositions invariably involves questionable assumptions about how the world, though created by God, might nonetheless impede God’s knowledge of the future.

    Except that what is actually argued is that God impedes his own knowledge of the future. Now I have not read every exposition by openness theologians, and I imagine there are those who would limit God in the way Dembski describes, but that is not a necessary component of openness theology. Openness theology would best be expressed, in my view, solely as God’s approach to interaction with this finite universe. It’s a way in which various possibilities have been reconciled in the finite, when in the infinite they had no need of such reconciliation.

    Further, I think that the coherence of free will and foreknowledge is quite illusory. William Lane Craig’s lengthy exposition to the contrary notwithstanding, I would still regard a fixed future as incompatible with free will. That’s a long discussion in itself, however, so I will hold with just the assertion at this point.

    Moreover, divine foreknowledge does not preclude human freedom. If God foreknows what I shall choose, then I shall not choose otherwise. It doesn’t follow, however, that I can’t choose otherwise. As William Lane Craig puts it, “my freely chosen actions . . . supply the truth conditions for the future contingent propositions known by God.”62 In contrast to theodicies that attempt to justify God’s goodness/benevolence by looking to divine limitation, I’m going to argue that full divine foreknowledge of future contingent propositions is indispensable to a theodicy that preserves the traditional understanding of the Fall (i.e., one that traces all evil in the world back to human sin). [Citations in this passage are from from William Lane Craig. I reproduce footnote 59: William Lane Craig, “Divine Foreknowledge and Newcomb’s Paradox,” Philosophia 17 (1987): 331-350, available online at http://www.leaderu.com/offices/billcraig/docs/newcomb.html (last accessed January 12, 2006). Access date is Dr. Dembski’s.]

    Here we see, I believe another example of the type of reconciliation I’m talking about. For Dembski, preserving a traditional understanding of the fall is important, and thus he looks for a reconciliation of the various elements that includes that traditional understanding. I believe that he operates in a way that is very similar to the openness theologians, and for that matter to most everyone else, in that he sees a number of teachings in scripture and hopes to provide an overarching theory that will account for them all. I have no problem with that. I simply point out that others are operating on the same motivation, and not simply moving the boundary markers in order to make themselves feel better about God.

    One option at all times is to reexamine our understanding of any particular point in the light of whatever evidence we have available. This means that the ideas of free will, of sovereignty, of evil, and yes, the traditional understanding of the fall can be examined again and again as we try to reconcile the various pieces of information available to us. There is no God-given general theory of divine sovereignty and human will. That is something we have to look for.

    In addition, we have to look at the sources. One difference between various approaches to theodicy is sources. What weight is given to scriptural statements over observations of the natural world? I would have to say, for example, that an observation of the history of life on this planet creates an interesting question about the God who “sees a sparrow fall” (Matthew 10:29) and the God who permits “survival of the fittest” as the driving force in the diversity of life.