July 28, 2012

Grace Works

Philippians 2:12-13

Roger E. Olson

 

No two verses in the Bible have been discussed and debated more than these together. Throughout Christian history, these two verses, this passage, has provided comfort and affliction to numerous Bible readers. Among the many biblical scholars, theologians and church leaders who have struggled with the passage and commented on it are St. Augustine, Martin Luther, John Wesley, Jonathan Edwards and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Scottish theologian Donald M. Baillie labeled the truth communicated here “the paradox of grace.”

The whole gospel is expressed in these two verses—in a nutshell. But for many Christians it has been and remains a tough nut to crack. That’s because of its paradoxical nature—two truths that seem to conflict with each other and yet are inseparable.

Here’s the paradox of this passage: salvation is both gift and task. For those of you who have taken the Rosetta Stone course in German, there’s a play on words in that language’s theological interpretation of this passage: salvation is both Gabe (gift) and Aufgabe (task).

But we are all familiar with this paradox if we’ve studied our Bibles carefully. Ephesians 2:8-9 says that “For by grace are you saved through faith and that not of works; it is a gift of God.” On the other hand James 2:18 says “Show me your faith without works and I will show you my faith by my works.

Probably no truth of the New Testament is as difficult to grasp as this. It seems contradictory. On the one hand, salvation is all of God, a sheer gift that cannot be earned. On the other hand, salvation is something we work at, we have a role to play in it.

Throughout Christian history, and still today, this paradox has given rise to two opposite and equally mistaken interpretations. The pendulum swings between two extremes.

During Christianity’s early days in Rome a monk named Pelagius taught that we must earn our salvation; salvation is our responsibility. It is all “task.” Church father Augustine opposed Pelagius and taught that salvation is all God’s doing; we really don’t contribute anything. God chooses whom he will save and saves them without any cooperation or contribution on their parts.

During the Protestant Reformation Martin Luther and the Catholic Church fell into bitter dispute over this. Luther insisted that people being saved don’t even have free will. Man, he argued, is like a horse ridden either by God or the devil and God decides who the rider will be. The Catholic Church, however, insisted that good works play a role in maintaining salvation.

During the Great Awakening in Britain and America John Wesley and revivalist George Whitefield fell into disagreement and, for a while, ended their friendship over this issue of God’s role and ours in salvation. Wesley taught that we have a role to play; Whitefield attributed everything to God’s electing grace and denied any human cooperation in salvation.

And on and on the argument has gone. Today it’s once again dividing equally God-fearing, Jesus-loving, Bible-believing Christians. Something called “the new Calvinism” or “young, restless, Reformed” movement led by Christian teachers like John Piper is again denying any human role in salvation; it’s all God’s doing and none of ours.

Many of these people, maybe like many of us, have wrongly divided verses 12 and 13 of Philippians 2 and pitted them against each other—emphasizing one to the neglect of the other. Either verse 12 is underscored with human beings contributing to our salvation with good works or verse 13 is highlighted with God doing everything himself.

What many don’t see is that Philippians 2:12-13 isn’t about initial salvation—conversion. It’s about the Christian life after conversion—about maintaining a healthy relationship with God as a converted believer.

As Baptists, like many evangelical Christians, we tend to specialize in initial salvation—conversion. We know all about that: we are forgiven by God on account of our simple, unadorned faith or trust in Jesus Christ. Good works play no role in conversion. But we aren’t always so sure about what comes after that. We get confused about the roles of grace and good works in living a life pleasing to God—maintaining a healthy relationship with God our savior.

To put it plainly: how do we stay in God’s good favor after we are saved? Is maintaining a right relationship with God and growing in God’s grace our doing or God’s? What must we do to enjoy the benefits of salvation throughout life? What does God to maintain that relationship?

That’s where Philippians 2:12-13 comes into play. It answers that crucial question in a paradox but not a contradiction.

A clue to why the message is not a contradiction lies in the Greek words translated “work” in English Bibles. “Work out your own salvation,” it says, “for God is at work in you….” The secret is that in the original language, these are two different words, not one. We just don’t have two different English words to translate the two Greek words, so most English translations simply use “work.” But that’s confusing because it makes the passage sound like it’s contradicting itself—verse 13 sounds like it’s contradicting verse 12. But it’s not.

The Greek word translated “work” in verse 12 is one that means “continue a task; carry it out to completion.” The Greek word translated “work” in verse 13 is one that means “provides the ability and means, the energy.”

So let’s read the passage with the Greek in mind: “Carry out, continue your task of salvation with fear and trembling, for God is providing all the ability, means and energy….”

Now the light is dawning. The passage’s meaning is clearer. When it comes to maintaining a healthy relationship with God, we do something and God does something.

I want to suggest that these two verses together express the Christian life, our relationship with God, as unconditional good news. We are not puppets, being micromanaged by God. We are responsible people in a personal relationship with a personal God. But, on the other hand, we are weak and God gives us everything we need to maintain a strong, healthy relationship with him.

I have three points to make about this good news, this paradox of grace, these two verses and the truth they tell about God and us in relationship.

1. Grace is Free!

Put another way, there are no “grace boosters.” Nothing we can do can increase God’s grace toward us, for us, on our behalf. Everything we need to be and remain in God’s favor is provided by God himself. And it doesn’t cost us anything.

The problem is that, in our human weakness and ignorance, we often want to think there is something we must do to buy or boost God’s grace. Either from fear or pride, we create grace boosters—acts that we think will merit God’s favor and shore up our relationship with him.

Some churches have formal, official grace boosters. They’re called sacraments. As a Baptist, I don’t believe in them. But we Baptists have our own grace boosters—good works we think are necessary to somehow guarantee God’s favor and blessings: tithing, volunteering, attending, witnessing…whatever.

When these good works are thought of as grace boosters, they become like the pillars famed architect Christopher Wren added to the Town Hall of Windsor, England in 1689. The city fathers wanted a beautiful new town hall with a large meeting room above and an open space for a farmer’s market below. They commissioned Wren, the architect of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, to design it. Wren used a new construction method to support the meeting room above the open-air market on the hall’s first floor. When the city fathers viewed the building, they were alarmed. The farmer’s market below the meeting room was without pillars except around the periphery. In the middle there were no pillars to support the ceiling, the floor of their meeting room above. They asked Wren to add four pillars in the middle of the open air market space to keep them from falling down into the first floor below when they met in their new meeting room. Wren refused, pointing out how beautiful the open space was without pillars in its middle. But the city fathers insisted, so finally a bitter Wren added the pillars. Years later the ceiling of the market space needed repairs. The workmen built their scaffolds around the pillars, climbed up to repair the ceiling and found something shocking. The four added pillars did not reach all the way to the ceiling. Wren’s pillars were deceptive; they didn’t support anything.

Our good works, meant to sustain and even increase God’s favor, are like Wren’s deceptive pillars. They be beautiful and give a false sense of security, but they contribute nothing to grace.

The practical point is that our relationship with God is supported from God’s side; everything we need to have a good relationship with him is provided by him. That’s the point of verse 13.

2. Grace is costly!

Wait! Doesn’t this contradict point 1—“grace is free?” Not really.

Grace is free to us, but not to God.

A popular definition of “grace” is “God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.” What are God’s riches? God’s favor, adoption into his family, peace, joy, confidence that our future is secure in him.

The Bible calls this “life abundant” and “eternal life”—not just something future but available now. All can be ours, now. But only because God himself lowered himself to our level and took on our shame and guilt and died an innocent death of capital punishment on a cruel cross.

God’s grace is free to us, but not to God. It cost him much.

This is what German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer meant when he condemned “cheap grace” and promoted “costly grace”—not that grace costs us something, but that it cost God much and we cheapen it by being ungrateful, by living lives of lazy spirituality or by sinning so that grace may abound.

This explains why we do good works. They are not “grace boosters,” but acts of gratitude for the price God paid to save us and draw us into relationship with him so that he can share his riches with us.

3. Grace is relational.

Yes, grace is free; it costs us nothing—nothing even to maintain a healthy relationship with God and enjoy the benefits and blessings of his favor.

However, our Christian life is a relationship; it’s not a condition. It requires maintenance and that means both parties have something to do—as in any personal relationship.

God’s doesn’t impose his favor, his blessings on us. He invites us to enjoy them and offers to provide everything we need to have them.

Then why do we so often not enjoy the blessings of God’s favor? Why is our relationship with God often so weak and stagnant, even almost non-existent?

Earlier I said there are no grace boosters. So it’s not due to lack of grace boosters, good works. God is not waiting to see us perform for him before he blesses us. His grace is always already full and free and offered to us.

There are no grace booster, but there are “grace blockers.” This is the answer to What does Paul mean in verse 12—to “work out your own salvation?” It doesn’t mean “built more pillars” that don’t even reach the ceiling. It doesn’t mean “do more good works so that grace will be increased.”

Let me illustrate what Paul does mean with another illustration. I have a common frustrating experience during these hot Texas summers. I have a large yard with many trees and decorative bushes, but the house has only two outdoor faucets. So I see one of my bushes needs water; it’s wilting in the blistering sun and above one hundred degree temperatures. I connect my one hundred foot hose to the faucet on the wall of the house and turn on the faucet. Then I drag the hose away from the house, around the corner and way, way out to the poor thirsty bush. I stand there and aim the spray nozzle at the bush and pull the trigger. Nothing happens. I go back to make sure the faucet is really turned on so that the water is flowing into the hose. It is. I go back and pick up the nozzle and point it again and pull the trigger. Again, nothing. What’s wrong?

Ah, I finally realize it—somewhere in the length of that hose there’s a kink that’s stopping the flow of the water. The fault isn’t with the water pressure; the water is pushing to come out and drench the thirsty bush. So I go back the length of the hose and find the one or more kinks and work them out. Then the water that’s already there is free to flow.

Like the water in the hose, the grace of God is not lacking. It doesn’t need to be boosted. It’s already “turned on” by God’s love and mercy and our repentance and faith. But often it can’t flow in our life because we have put grace blockers in its way or allowed them to happen in our lives.

What are “grace blockers?” Wrong attitudes, dispositions, habits, neglect of spiritual disciplines…

When Paul says “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling…” he means “identify those grace blockers that are stopping the flow of God’s grace in your life and remove them with the Holy Spirit’s help.” He does not mean “work harder at pleasing God with good works so that God’s grace in your life will increase.”

And when Paul says “for God is at work in you…” he doesn’t mean “God does everything and you do nothing,” he means “God will provide you with all the ability, all the energy, all the means to remove the grace blockers from your life so your relationship with him will be whole again.”

So what are the grace blockers in your life that are hindering the flow of God’s grace?

March 29, 2012

Part 5 of Response to The Gospel as Center, Chapter 5: “Sin and the Fall” by Reddit Andrews III

Reddit Andrews is a Presbyterian pastor (PCA). This is a brief chapter—only ten pages—and covers the basics of a doctrine of sin from a Calvinist perspective. Andrews quotes Jonathan Edwards, Blaise Pascal, Herman Bavinck, John Murray and R. L. Dabney (among others). Also, of course, The Westminster Confession of Faith.

For me this chapter raises to an intense pitch the question I have been asking about The Gospel Coalition all along. To what extent is Calvinism part and parcel of “the gospel?” Put another way, to what extent can a non-Calvinist be considered (by them) authentically “evangelical?”

The reason this question becomes especially crucial, and unanswered except perhaps implicitly, in this chapter is its treatment of “Evil and the Will of God.” (pp. 80-81) Many non-Calvinists will agree with most of the rest of the chapter. With the exception of these two pages it is a fairly standard treatment of conservative evangelical theology of sin and evil.

Before I get into discussing “Evil and the Will of God,” I must mention, by way of background, the author’s treatment of “Sin is Universal.” (pp. 82-83) There Andrews mentions that “Christians disagree on the manner in which Adam’s guilt and corruption were transmitted to humans.” He mentions two options: an organic connection and a legal one (Adam as “federal representative”).

What’s interesting there is that, insofar as this chapter represents the thinking of The Gospel Coalition, the “gospel” does not require a particular view of the link between Adam and his posterity. Why not? Apparently the gospel requires very specific beliefs about so much else.

My point is that there seems to be intentionality in some of the chapters as they point out areas of freedom to disagree about the implications of the gospel. So, The Gospel Coalition IS intending to speak for a relatively diverse group. These chapters are not just their authors’ opinions. Andrews, for example, identifies his opinion that Adam’s sin was imputed to all his physical posterity. (p. 83) But he doesn’t think everyone must believe that to be gospel-centered.

Notice the phrase “Christians disagree.” (p. 83) That is NOT said about anything else in the chapter. And it does not say “Calvinists disagree” (about the means of transmission of Adam’s sin to his posterity). It says “Christians disagree.” This language indicates that The Gospel Coalition thinks “Christians” DO NOT DISAGREE about the rest. Otherwise such would be indicated. But, then, that means ONLY THOSE WHO AGREE are truly, authentically Christian. At least that is a reasonable inference.

Back to “Evil and the Will of God.” Andrews says “God sovereignly decreed that sin would enter the world, and Adam was responsible for freely sinning.” (p. 80) And “God, who is holy and not the author of evil, did not merely ‘permit’ evil. It is not as though God did not ordain evil but allowed it to occur.” (p. 81) Is this what “all Christians” believe? If not, why not say so—as Andrews says two pages later with regard to transmission of Adam’s sin? Surely Andrews knows this view, that God sovereignly decreed sin and evil, is not shared by all evangelical Christians (to say nothing of non-evangelical Christians such as Catholics). The clear implication is that, for him and The Gospel Coalition, Calvinism is part and parcel of the gospel so that anyone who denies this (viz., that God sovereignly decreed sin and did not merely permit it) is not authentically Christians. What else is a reader to think?

Also, of course, this view, that God sovereignly decreed sin and did not merely permit it cannot escape making God the author of sin and evil. God could not have “sovereignly decreed” sin without rendering it certain. Why does Andrews not address HOW God rendered sin (i.e., the fall) certain? Virtually every Calvinist theologian I have read explains that God withdrew or withheld the grace he knew Adam and Eve would have needed not to sin. How else could God have guaranteed what he decreed would come to pass without actually forcing them to sin? And yet, non-Calvinists ask, how is that not tantamount to causing them to sin? And if sinning is what they naturally would do apart from a supernatural gift of grace, how was their nature “good?”

Then, of course, the biggest problem with Andrews’ (and most Calvinists’ view) of God’s sovereign ordaining of sin and evil is that sin and evil are no longer really bad. Andrews quotes Bavinck that God “willed it [i.e., sin and evil] so that in it and against it He might bring to light His divine attributes.” (p. 81) Really. Please. If that’s the case, then there is no getting around it that sin and evil are good because without them God’s glory could not be fully revealed. It’s only a baby step from there to “Those suffering in the flames of hell for eternity can at least take comfort in the fact they are there for the greater glory of God.” But it’s not even a baby step to belief that sin and evil are really good.

Of course, one traditional Calvinist way of getting around that is to say that the evil of a sinful act lies in the intention with which it is done. But, within a Calvinist doctrine of meticulous providence, even the “evil” intention had to be ordained and rendered certain by God. Then it, too, is not really evil but good.

I truly do not see how Calvinists like Andrews can cope with this conundrum. If this is true, then why not celebrate sin and evil and hell? They are God’s will and bring him glory. Why don’t Calvinists smile over them as God does (referring to Cowper’s hymn “God Moves In A Mysterious Way”—“behind a frowning providence he [God] hides a smiling face”).

 

October 31, 2011

This is a guest post written by one of my students–Austin Fischer.  As you can see, he’s particularly bright (and not just because he agrees with me about most things!) and articulate.  I think he makes some very good points about the controversy surrounding Love Wins here.  However, just because I post a guest essay here does not mean I agree with everything in it (the standard disclaimer!)

Love Wins? God Wins? 

#LoveWins

            As has been duly noted at this point, Love Wins has sparked a firestorm in the evangelical world because it has exposed some deep fissures. These fissures have been around as long as evangelicals have but certainly seem to be growing. In a lecture on universalism, Scot McKnight suggested that evangelicals have reacted with such vitriol towards the book because it threatens the very heart of the evangelical ethos, which (according to McKnight) is the belief that people need to be converted. As such, Rob Bell’s flirtation with universalism has threatened the importance of conversion and thus incurred the wrath of evangelicalism.

            Yet McKnight’s contention seems to make two questionable assumptions. First, it assumes there is a blanket evangelical rejection of the ideas in Love Wins. Second, it assumes that those evangelicals who are rejecting Love Wins are rejecting it for the same reasons.

Why Can’t We Agree On What Love Wins Is Saying?

            The first assumption is problematic on a couple of levels. First off, it seems implausible to say there is a blanket rejection of the ideas in Love Wins because there has been little consensus as to what exactly Love Wins is saying. There is an interesting dynamic at work here, because—to speak candidly—Love Wins is not a complex book. It’s not hard to follow and it doesn’t use big words. Bell doesn’t write sentences longer than six words. He writes. Like. This. So why can’t we come to a consensus on what Love Wins is saying? How can some people think the book teaches universalism and some think it doesn’t?

The answer is exceedingly simple: we’re not good readers. And the fact that we’re not good readers has nothing to do with inadequate education or IQ. It has everything to do with a growing trend in evangelical (and perhaps wider) culture towards sectarianism and the loss of moderation. Lots could be said here, but suffice to say there are fewer and fewer people trying to be in the center anymore. The center is seen as a weak place, a place lacking conviction, a place where the cowards huddle together and try not to offend anyone.

Not too long ago I was talking with a pastor about being a “moderate” Christian and he rebuked the very existence of such a thing: “When it comes down to it, I don’t think there are any moderates.” Hmm. When I asked him to substantiate the claim, his answer was telling: “Because even moderates are passionate about some things.” Apparently, a moderate is a person who isn’t passionate about anything…except everybody being happy. This moderate caricature is as pervasive as it is inaccurate. And while I don’t care to offer a full-blown definition of what it means to be a Christian moderate, I think it is helpful to say that to be moderate is to be passionately committed to meaningful conversations in pursuit of the truth. To be a moderate means you check the impulse to caricature, distort, talk over, and assume you know what someone else is saying. As such you can be a conservative moderate or a liberal moderate, a Calvinist moderate or an Open Theist moderate. Whatever.

We’re not good readers because we’re not good at being moderate. We don’t really want to listen to opposing ideas and we don’t want a real conversation. We think “we” have the truth and “they” don’t, so why have a conversation? Bluntly, if we find it difficult to have an actual conversation then it’s probably because we’re arrogant and ignorant, not informed.

So why can’t we come to a consensus on what Love Wins is saying? Because we don’t want to hear what it is saying. We just want to use it as a springboard into a monologue about why we’re right.

What Is Love Wins Saying?

This said, what is Love Wins saying? Like I said, it’s simple and really not that much different from what people such as C.S. Lewis, Moltmann, and Hans Urs von Balthasar have said; namely, in the end we can’t say anything too firm about the destiny of human beings other than the fact that God will do what God wants with us. Bell speculates over what God does indeed plan to do with us (i.e. giving us all eternity to allow God to save us…a flirtation with universalism) and that speculation is certainly fair grounds for conversation and criticism. Indeed a moderate would encourage such! But the fact that so few grasp this clear, simple thesis of the book is a sad indictment of the current evangelical climate. Like I said, we’re not good readers.

The second problem with the assumption is that there simply hasn’t been a blanket evangelical rejection of Love Wins. Some evangelicals agree with most, if not all, the book. This leads us to an examination of the second assumption: Are all evangelicals rebuking Love Wins for the same reasons?

Why is Love Wins Rejected?

            The second assumption—that all evangelicals are rebuking Love Wins because it questions the need for conversion—is problematic because evangelicals are so diverse. The primary example of this is seen in the variously labeled neo-Puritan/neo-Calvinist branch of evangelicalism, characterized by the theology of Jonathan Edwards (especially as articulated by John Piper), the preaching of Mark Driscoll, Matt Chandler, Francis Chan, Tim Keller, and the influence of Al Mohler and company. To state the obvious, this branch of evangelicalism holds as fundamental numerous beliefs that stand in direct antithesis to any “free-will” branch of evangelicalism. As such, it should come as no surprise that while free-will and Calvinist evangelicals might both rebuke Love Wins, they don’t do it for the same reasons.

            My contention is that neo-Calvinist evangelicalism doesn’t rebuke Love Wins because it undermines conversion (I mean what could undermine conversion more than unconditional election!?), but because it doesn’t teach Calvinism. To put it another way, they are not rejecting Love Wins so much as they are rejecting anything that is not Calvinism.

            This is blatantly obvious if you’ve read any of the numerous books written in response to Love Wins, many of which are written by neo-Calvinists. Now to be clear, I’m not criticizing them for writing a response. That’s the moderate way! But what they and many others fail to perceive is that most of the ideas they critique in Love Wins are not critiques of universalism but of any sort of free-will theism. They are not criticizing universalism but basic free-will theism.

God Wins: A Case Study

            An excerpt from God Wins by Mark Galli[1] is helpful: “What is assumed in…Love Wins is that the human will is free, autonomous, and able to choose between alternatives. [Love Wins] assumes that the will is not fallen, that it needs no salvation, that it doesn’t even need help” (71). A number of things jump out. First, where does Love Wins assume that the human will is not fallen and does not need help? This is a massive indictment and if it were true then I would assume all free-will theists would join in the indictment. But where is it? Page number? Nope. See the above section on being bad readers.

            A second thing that jumps out is the lack of an acknowledgement of a mediating position; namely, that while the human will is naturally “turned in on itself” with a propensity towards evil, the grace (prevenient) of God heals our fallen will so that we can actually choose for God or against God. This idea—that prevenient grace heals our fallen will to the point that we can indeed make a decision for or against God—is not universalism. It is classical free-will theism, the predominant Christian understanding of the relationship between human will and divine grace for two thousand years (see Against Calvinism by Dr. Roger Olson for substantiation of this claim).

Does God Give Us What We Want?

            Related to this is Galli’s critique of Bell’s central assertion in Love Wins: in the end, God gives us what we want. In The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis suggests that the doors of hell are locked from the inside. That is, those who end up in hell are there because they wanted hell and not because God was keeping them out of heaven. God has forgiven everyone (or made forgiveness possible for everyone) through the cross so that salvation, redemption, and reconciliation are possible for every last person and thing in the cosmos. In my view, all Bell does is pick up this line of thought. It’s not universalism. Lewis was clearly not a Universalist and believed many would indeed choose hell (especially the theologians!). It is, I think, a fair and plausible explanation of what Scripture tells us about God and his purposes for the world.

            But according to Galli, the idea that God gives us what we want would be “very bad news” (because he mistakenly dismisses the notion of prevenient grace wherein our wills can be healed so that we can indeed want God), and on top of that it’s unbiblical. He tries to substantiate his claim by citing all the texts that talk about how we’re slaves to sin, insinuating they prove God doesn’t give us what we want because all we would want is sin. In doing so he makes the glaring mistake of failing to acknowledge the basic free-will explanation of such passages. At the risk of monotony, free-will theism holds that we are indeed enslaved by sin but by God’s grace our will is healed so that we can indeed make a decision for God. In other words, according to free-will theism, God does indeed give us what we want, granting us the grace so that we can make a decision for or against God.

            Along these lines, to say that the idea that God gives us what we want is unbiblical is, to a free-will theist, itself unbiblical. I would argue that every single time Scripture admonishes us to repent or perish, to do evil or good, to obey God or disobey, to follow or not to follow Jesus, it is telling us that God gives us what we want. And to put it mildly, there are a lot more verses in the Bible about this than there are about our will being fallen, though both are true and easily reconciled by free-will theism.

Seen in this light, I think God giving us what we want is one of the most foundational and often-revealed truths in the Bible. It doesn’t necessitate some mushy sentimentalism in which God exists to serve our every need and wouldn’t criticize Hitler for beating the Virgin Mary. Nope. It just means that our God’s peculiar way of dealing with his creation is not to give it what it deserves. Rather it is for him to take what we deserve upon himself, up to the cross and down into the grave to ensure that none of us have to get what we deserve. We can get what we deserve if we so choose, but we don’t have to. And God doesn’t do this because he has to. He does it because he wants to, which is the great mystery we call love. Love wins? Yep. God wins? Yep.

Conclusions

            So what does Love Wins say? I think it says that in the end the only thing we can be sure of is that God will do whatever he wants with us, and that Jesus and the Bible teach us that what God wants to do with us is let us have what we want. In other words, in the end God lets us choose between heaven and hell. That sounds pretty orthodox to me. Now to be sure, Bell does flirt with universalism, so fire away with criticism at that. But the problem is that lots of the “evangelical” criticism isn’t that Bell teaches universalism: it’s that he doesn’t teach Calvinism.

            So if the problem with Love Wins is it teaches that God graciously gives us the chance to choose between heaven and hell, then I think evangelicals should have a problem with those who have a problem with Love Wins. In the end, God does give us what we want. I can’t think of anything more evangelical…or biblical.


[1] I should note that I don’t know Galli’s theological presuppositions. Indeed at points he seems to affirm free-will theism (see his response metaphor on 73-74). To me he appears to be either a confused/inconsistent free-will theist or a confused/inconsistent Calvinist.

September 14, 2011

In the Al Mohler article I previously discussed in The Southern Seminary Magazine Mohler argues that hell is part of the gospel.  I disagree.

NOW, before someone goes off on a disinformation campaign to smear me (and by extension my denomination and the institution where I teach) let me be crystal clear: I DO BELIEVE IN HELL.

Contrary to many (notice I said “many”) fundamentalists and neo-fundamentalists, not everything revealed in Scripture or believed and taught by Christians throughout the ages is part of the gospel.  I am using “gospel” here in the traditional sense of the message of good news about Jesus Christ and salvation by grace alone.  I do not agree with those who think or claim that “the gospel” is another word for “what authentic Christianity teaches.”  Authentic Christianity teaches many things that are not part of the gospel itself–such as the Trinity.

Emil Brunner rightly argued in his Dogmatics that the Trinity is a defensive formula and not part of the kerygma–the gospel.  That does not make the Trinity unimportant; as a defensive doctrine it is necessary to protect the deity of Jesus Christ and the unity of God (monotheism)–two higher order revealed truths.  But the Trinity itself–as a doctrine–is nowhere spelled out in Scripture or revealed there; it is a doctrine worked out by early Christians in conflicts with denials of either monotheism or the deity of Jesus Christ (or the distinction between Jesus Christ and God the Father).

So what is “the gospel?”  Well, to find out again I read all the sermons recorded in Acts–by Peter, by Stephen, by Paul.  Not one directly refers to hell.  (I believe one mentions hades but not in a way that equates it with hell as “gehenna” or the lake of fire.)  Do I think the apostles didn’t believe in hell?  Not at all.  I’m sure they did.  BUT IF HELL IS PART OF THE GOSPEL why do they never mention it in their presentations of the gospel?

Sure, someone might point out rightly that it is implied in the apostles’ statements about judgment and exclusion from the people of God.  But that’s not the same as explicitly stating it which is what I take it people who insist hell is necessary to the gospel imply.  In other words, I am arguing that a complete account of the gospel of Jesus Christ can be given without mention of hell (or the Trinity).

On a different tack, let me offer a thought experiment to make my point.  SUPPOSE (I know some of you won’t) that hell disappeared from the Christian vocabulary, but everything else remained.  Would the gospel then disappear with hell?  Hardly.  The New Testament contains some presentations of the gospel; most do not mention hell.  Here’s one from 1 Timothy: “Beyond all question, the mystery of godliness is great: He appeared in a body, was vindicated by the Spirit, was seen by angels, was preached among the nations, was believed on in the world, was taken up in glory.” (3:16)

So what are the necessary parts of the gospel (as opposed to a full account of Christian doctrine)?  Well, certainly that Jesus Christ died for our sins so that we may be forgiven by God and reconciled with him and given eternal life because of his resurrection and our faith in him.  The “gospel” should be brief–something that can be memorized and written on a three-by-five card.

To continue the thought experiment.  If hell disappeared from Christian consciousness would the good news of Jesus Christ disappear with it?  How so?  I simply don’t get that.  Imagine (I know some of you will refuse even to imagine this with me imagining that I’m asking you to believe it which I’m not) that we know nothing of hell and therefore suppose that all people go to heaven.  Where would be the loss of “good news” in that?

In other words, what I am arguing is that hell is revealed in Scripture which is why we believe it, but we don’t believe it (or shouldn’t) because we think it is good news.  It’s very bad news (except in the sense that God lets us have our way which isn’t very good news in this case!).  It’s bad news not only for those who go there but also for God because it means God loses something; his perfect will is not done (because he permits that in his antecedent will–antecedent to the fall and sin).

Now, of course, if you’re a high Calvinist you’ll disagree.  And I think ONLY a high Calvinist can believe and say that hell is really, truly good news.  What do they mean?  They mean that hell is good news because it is necessary for the full manifestation of God’s glory–the complete revelation of all his attributes (as Jonathan Edwards argued).  But that can’t really be good news because it makes God a moral monster.

Hell cannot be part of the gospel IF the gospel is unconditional good news.  And the only way hell can be made compatible with the gospel as unconditional good news is to believe that it is “the painful refuge” God provides for those who refuse to be in his presence, worshiping him eternally (C. S. Lewis).  But hell does NOT have to be preached for the sermon to contain the good news that Christ died for sinners to enable them ALL (I said “enable,” not “assure”) to be saved.

So why believe in and teach the reality of hell if it isn’t part of the gospel?  Well, for the same reason we believe in and teach the Trinity–it’s either part of revelation or (as in the case of the Trinity) a necessary implication of what is revealed.  But there are many things revealed in Scripture that are NOT “the gospel”–unless you are going to claim that everything revealed is part of “the gospel” which would then mean that the apostle’s sermons in Acts were incomplete presentations of the gospel.

One of the hallmarks of fundamentalism (and neo-fundamentalism among postfundamentalist evangelicals) is the tendency to pack every Christian doctrine into the category of “the gospel.”  There is this tendency to equate “the gospel” with a systematic theology.  That is why many Calvinists (not all, of course) consider non-Calvinists “barely Christian”–because they think we deny something essential to the gospel.  That just reminds me of the old fundamentalists such as William Bell Riley (founder of the World Christian Fundamentals Association in 1919) who claimed that premillennialism is an essential part of the gospel!  I believe in premillennialism, but I would never, never claim it is part of the gospel just because I think it is revealed truth (or at least logically implied in what is revealed).

So, can a universalist who denies the reality of hell (or its everlastingness) still believe in and promote the gospel?  I’m sure that’s a question some are asking as they read this.  I believe (and I will attempt to prove it here at some time in the future) that Karl Barth was a universalist.  Anyone who would claim ON ANY OTHER ACCOUNT that Barth left the gospel out of his theology would, in my opinion, either be ignorant or asinine.  Barth was a powerful promoter of the good news of Jesus Christ.  So, yes, I believe a universalist can nevertheless believe in and promote the gospel.  What I do NOT think is that a universalist can be doing justice to the whole of what is revealed.

Hell is not part of the good news; it is its shadow.  My shadow is always there when I’m sitting or standing in light.  But my shadow is not me.  Anyone who would treat my shadow as part of me would be ludicrous.  I would say “Get away from me!” (if I thought they were serious).  So it is with hell.  It is the shadow of the gospel but not part of the gospel itself.

Now watch.  Some fundamentalist or neo-fundamentalist will take something I said here out of context and spread it around to claim that Roger Olson denies hell or the importance of hell.  They will do that NOT BECAUSE they really believe it but because they want to do damage to my reputation and to that of the institution where I teach.  This sort of thing (e.g., claiming I am an open theist because I defend open theists as not heretics) goes on all the time and I consider it a form of lying.  It’s only purpose is political–to promote their own organizational power at the expense of someone else’s.  I have made abundantly clear here that I believe in hell and nowhere have I said it is not important.  (If I were to stand in the light and not see my shadow I’d be very worried!  My shadow is evidence of my own substantial reality, but it is not part of me.  There’s a difference.)  Let me say right now that those who will no doubt claim here or elsewhere that I deny hell or demote its importance are either weak-minded or mean-spirited.  They should be ignored.

July 7, 2011

A publisher recently sent me an advance copy of what I take to be the first full book length response to Love Wins by Rob Bell and asked me to review it here.  I’m happy to do that.

The book is entitled God Wins: Heaven, Hell and Why the Good News is Better than Love Wins.  The author is Mark Galli, senior managing editor of Christianity Today magazine.  The book is published by Tyndale House Publishers.

I know Mark Galli and respect him highly.  I led a church-based discussion group in reading and discussing his book Jesus Mean and Wild.  We found it a bracingly helpful corrective to overly sentimental ideas of Jesus in much contemporary Christianity and folk religion.

Mark is a serious evangelical scholar with an irenic approach to controversial material.  While he takes on Love Wins with vigorous criticism, he is careful to give the author, Rob Bell, the benefit of the doubt as to his intentions.  In almost every chapter Mark says he thinks Bell does not intend errors he inadvertently promotes.

Before I interact with Mark’s book, let me say that you should read the book for yourself and not take my word for anything–except that it is a serious book deserving thoughtful consideration by both Bell’s critics and admirers.  (Here by “Bell’s” I mean Love Wins’.)

God Wins goes to great lengths to express agreement with much of Love Wins.  Mark does not sweepingly condemn the book or dismiss it as unworthy of consideration.  He has clearly taken the time to read it carefully and try to understand it fairly before expressing disagreement with it.  And his criticisms are, for the most part, generous toward the author.

However, God Wins pulls no punches.  Mark clearly considers it a dangerous book that will probably lead many readers astray–not from Christianity into atheism or anything like that but from a better focused and truer picture of God to a fuzzier and largely erroneous one.

Chapter 1 is entitled The Really Important Question.  There Mark argues that Bell misses the mark by raising too many questions about God that imply an attempt to interrogate God.  Mark says “as the Cross demonstrates, God takes us seriously.  He takes our sin seriously.  But he continues to show relative indifference to our questions.  He does not answer them to our intellectual satisfaction; he refuses to submit himself to our interrogations.” (14)

I wonder, however, whether Mark (I am not calling him “Galli” out of disrespect but because I know him personally and it would be awkward to call him by his last name when we are on a first name basis) is confusing interrogation of ideas about God with interrogation of God.  When I read Love Wins I did not sense Bell intending to interrogate God.  His questions, I thought, were aimed at traditional notions about God.

This first point gives me opportunity to say something about different interpretations of the same book.  Sometimes when I am reading Mark’s account of Bell’s book I feel like he read a different book than I did!  I get the sense that Mark felt things that I did not feel and that I felt things Mark (and others) did not feel.  I’m not trying to reduce interpretation to feelings.  I’m just saying that people often get a different sense about a book.  I thought Bell was reacting to what he perceived to be an overly harsh picture of God as a distant judge delighting in sending people to hell and to an all-too-common attitude among some Christians that hell is a good thing–as if we should celebrate every time we think someone goes there because it reinforces our sense of retributive justice.  So I filled in some gaps as I read, giving Bell the benefit of the doubt and taking for granted that he was trying to correct those images and was not trying to say everything one could say about the subjects.

I think Mark read the book differently–as Bell being seduced by a liberal approach to life and the world and God that places man at the center and God at the periphery.  One reason I didn’t think that is because almost everything Bell says about God and heaven and hell can be found in well-respected evangelical theologians or theologians most evangelicals respect like C. S. Lewis.  (Okay, I know Lewis wasn’t technically a theologian, but he wrote theology better than many professional theologians do!)  But my point is that I get it–Mark “sees” a gestalt, a pattern in Bell’s book I didn’t see.  We read the same book but saw it “as” different things.  I think that may be because Mark is a member of a denomination struggling with rampant liberalism in which conservatives (by which here I mean people who value traditional, orthodox, biblical Christianity) feel embattled.  I, on the other hand, have been beset by fundamentalists and aggressive neo-fundamentalist heresy-hunters.  So I read Bell as a fellow questioner of that kind of ultra-conservative Christianity whereas Mark read him, I suspect, as an unintentional ally giving aid and comfort to the liberals destroying his denomination.  Well, all that is surmise and guess work.  I just don’t know how else to make sense of how Mark and I read the same book and came away with such radically different interpretations.

So, where Mark saw Love Wins reveling in unaswered questions that attempt to put God in the dock, so to speak, I saw the book as simply challenging certain cherished but often unreflective assumptions about God among conservative Christians.

Chapter 2 is entitled Who Is This God?  The chapter’s thesis is that “Love Wins tends to come across as beautiful and exciting–but ultimately thin and sentimental.  It does not communicate the gravity, the thickness, the mystery of God.”  There I began to suspect that we are dealing with two different visions of God–one the hidden, mysterious, awesome and transcendent God of Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Edwards and Spurgeon (Mark quotes the latter two) and the other the very personal, intimate, loving and profoundly caring (for his creatures) God of the Greek fathers, Wesley and Moltmann.  Of course that’s a simplistic dualism.  But so is Mark’s.  In this chapter Mark posits two accounts of God–one is “God as agent” (bad, wrong) and the other is “God the Lover” (good, right).  The picture of God as agent puts humans at the center and views God primarily as existing to serve us and our needs.  The picture of God as lover puts the Trinity at the center and views God primarily as existing in and for himself as inner-trinitarian love that then overflows in grace to creatures.  Mark says “…only when we see God as Lover can we understand how God is more than mere Agent.  As wonderful as it is to experience the benefits of his grace and mercy, they should never be the focal point.  The minute they become the focus, they disappear.  It’s like happiness–make it your goal, and you’ll never reach it.  The blessings of life in Christ, like happiness, are the result of something else, something that has objectively happened–Christ’s death and resurrection.” (32)

I can’t imagine that Bell would disagree with that!  And my reaction to the dualism between “God as Agent” and “God as the Lover” is to ask why these have to be in conflict with each other?  I guess Mark is arguing it is a matter of which comes first.  Giving Bell the benefit of the doubt, I would say he would also put God as the Lover before God as Agent.  Perhaps he could have made that clearer in Love Wins.  Mark sees Bell as inadvertently making our experience of God’s blessings THE central feature of the gospel rather than secondary to God’s glorious nature and sacrifice for us in Jesus Christ.  In other words, Mark thinks Bell puts the accent on the subjective too much whereas the accent ought to be on the objective content of what God has done for us out of the inner resources of his own being in Jesus Christ.

Is this a case of wanting a book to be and do something it wasn’t designed to be and do?  In other words, might it be that Bell ASSUMES things Mark thinks he should STATE explicitly?  Every book begins with certain assumptions.  As an author I can testify to that.  I have often been criticized for not highlighting or underscoring something I THOUGHT I could take for granted and assume as common ground with my readers.

Mark ends chapter 2 with this summary statement of its point: “As great as forgiveness is, it is not our exceeding joy.  As wonderful as are the blessings of salvation, they are not our exceeding joy.  Our exceeding joy is God, the God who has brought us into his very presence through Jesus Christ.” (33)  Would Bell disagree with that?  I doubt it.  But I can’t be sure.  Maybe that’s Mark’s point–one can’t be sure, so Bell should have been more clear and explicit IF that’s what he believes.  On the other hand, perhaps Bell would argue (with some right, I think) that these two things should not be prioritized.  IF God withheld the blessings of salvation from us, we would have no reason to have exceeding joy in God.  We have exceeding joy in God for who he is and what he has done for us in Jesus Christ BECAUSE he has extended the benefits of his grace and mercy to us for our salvation.  Is there something wrong with looking at it that way?  Well, I suspect Jonathan Edwards and  John Piper would think there is.  But does Mark?  I don’t know.  I can only hope not.

Chapter 3 is entitled Becoming one again and is about God’s highest aim.  At least that’s what I think it is about.  It’s about several things.  But before I interact with the chapter’s content I have to comment on the “hook” at its beginning.  (Every chapter begins with a story which authors call a “hook”–something to lure readers further in.)  Mark confesses that when he was in college he went to see the movie The Summer of ’42.  I guess we’re about the same age!  (I thought so, but this pretty much proves it.)  That was the first movie I ever saw in a movie theater.  I snuck into it just to find out what was so awful and evil about movies in movie theaters.  (The church I grew up in wouldn’t even take our youth group to see a Billy Graham film shown in a secular movie theater!  We were taught that if Jesus returned while we were in a movie theater it wouldn’t matter what movie we were watching, we’d be left behind!)  You have to remember movies back then didn’t have ratings.  I remember watching some of the scenes through my fingers and fearing God was going to strike me dead just for seeing parts of them and hearing them!  Well, Mark’s story and mine are quite different, but I thought it was interesting that we both went to see The Summer of ’42 while in college!  Shame on him! 🙂

Back to the book.  In this chapter (Becoming one again) Mark rakes Love Wins over the coals (gently, of course) for neglecting (not completely denying) the substitutionary atonement model in favor of Christus Victor (which is not false but by itself inadequate) and for implying (not outrightly stating) that the main purpose of the life, death and resurrection of Christ was to maximize our fulfillment as persons through an experience of wholeness.  Mark says “…one cannot help but notice how relentlessly human centered these descriptions [of the cross and atonement] are.  The Cross becomes about our getting inspired and being sustained.  Salvation becomes about something that satisfies our deepest longings.” (52)  Then, “It’s not just about what we experience but about what God has done.”

Mark’s point seems to be that Love Wins neglects the objective dimension of the cross in favor of the subjective dimension.  Toward the end of the chapter Mark accuses Love Wins of downplaying God’s justice in the cross.  “The book is so anxious to show that love wins, it fails to appreciate how important it is that justice also wins.” (57)  There may be some truth to that.  But, again, I wonder how much of this is due to Bell’s tendency to react to overly harsh, one-sided depictions of God’s wrath in some fundamentalist circles.  Nowhere does he deny that the cross displays God’s justice or wrath.  I guess Mark wants that highlighted more and perhaps Bell should have done that.  I admit that when I read Love Wins I took some things for granted.  I took it for granted that Bell believes the cross was God’s judgment on sin as well as the ultimate expression of God’s love.  How could the cross BE an expression of God’s love if it isn’t also a display of God’s justice?

Mark’s major point in this chapter is, I think, that Bell’s book simply doesn’t do justice to the fullness of the cross and resurrection event.  He reads Love Wins as implicitly if not explicitly playing up the benefits of the cross and resurrection for our human fulfillment and downplaying (not explicitly denying) the propitiatory aspect of the satisfaction of God’s righteousness by the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ on the cross.  But perhaps one could point to many conservative treatments of the cross event and say that they leave out entirely God’s concern for our well-being because he loves us.  Some theologians and pastors have said recently that Christ died “for God” and not for us.  Was Bell perhaps reacting to that kind of one-sided treatment of the cross?  Could Mark give Bell credit for wanting to balance such popular treatments of the atonement with an emphasis on God’s real care and concern for our fulfillment because he loves us?

Chapter 4 is entitled The Wonder of Faith.  Here is where I almost stumbled.  By that I mean I almost slapped the book shut and put it down thinking I couldn’t say anything kind about it.  But I’m glad I persevered and even read it twice.  In the end I still struggle with it, but I think Mark is trying to give a balanced account of God’s sovereignty and human freedom.  I’m not sure he succeeds, but few do!

Mark accuses Love Wins of focusing too much on human freedom as free choice.  Interpreting Bell’s book as semi-Pelagian, Mark says “This is precisely the problem with Love Wins and with any belief system that ultimately says that faith is left completely in the hands of sinful and fickle people.  That is not good news.”  (66-67)  He’s right about that–except that I’m not entirely convinced Love Wins intends that.  Where I think Mark may be interpreting Love Wins too harshly is when he writes that “What is assumed in this entire discussion in Love Wins is that the human will is free, autonomous, and able to choose between alternatives.  The discussion assumes that the will is not fallen, that it needs no salvation, that it doesn’t even need help.  It assumes that human beings are unbiased moral agents who stand above the fray and make independent decisions about the most important matters.”  (71)  Wow.  If that’s true, then Love Wins is heretical!  But I’m not convinced it’s true.  Now I’m going to have to go back and re-read Love Wins in this light to find out.  This is certainly not how I read the book.  But, again, maybe I was giving Bell the benefit of the doubt and reading prevenient grace into his discussions of free will (e.g., where he talks about God giving us what we want–even hell).

I thought Mark was going off on a Calvinist rant against anything that smacks of Arminianism until I came to this paragraph: “And that’s the gospel.  Not that we have an innate free will, but that God in his freedom came to us to rescue us from spiritual slavery.  Through the work of Jesus on the cross, and through the miraculous work of the Holy Spirit, our wills are liberated.  Then and only then can we actually recognize Christ, his love, his forgiveness, his grace.  Then and only then can we finally respond in faith.” (72)

I can only say “Amen!” to that.  And I say amen as an Arminian.  That expresses perfectly what Arminians believe.  My question is whether Bell would disagree with that paragraph.  I hope not and I think not.  But clearly Mark, an astute reading with profound acumen, thinks so.  I hope he’s wrong.

But here and there throughout this chapter there are hints of something more than classical Arminianism.  Mark says on page 65 that God sometimes makes it impossible for people to believe.  And he leaves open the question of whether God withholds himself from some people (reprobation?).  But if it is Calvinism it’s soft compared to Piper or Sproul.  I can agree with at least ninety percent of this chapter, but I wonder if Bell would disagree with any of it?

Again, is this a case of an author taking something for granted, knowing his readers are evangelicals and therefore probably already conditioned to believe that God is sovereign in salvation (at least to the extent that salvation is God’s initiative and not ours)?  Clearly Mark thinks Bell shouldn’t take that for granted and maybe that he doesn’t even believe it himself.  When I read Love Wins I took for granted that Bell believes our ability to accept God’s gracious offer of salvation in Jesus Christ is grace-enabled.  Perhaps I was wrong.  But is it wrong to give an author the benefit of the doubt?

Chapter 5 is entitled The Point of Heaven.  There Mark repeats his concern that Love Wins’ main emphasis is on human fulfillment and enjoyment rather than on God.  He criticizes Bell for neglecting the biblical dimension of worship in heaven in favor of emphasis on humanization.  Again, when I read Love Wins I took for granted that Bell believes we will worship God in heaven and was simply trying to open some new possibilities about our continuing spiritual growth in heaven.  And that he was trying to overcome the all too common folk religious idea that in heaven we will be something other than human because humanness is intrinsically evil.  (As a professor of theology for almost 30 years I can tell you that is a common belief among young evangelicals!)

Chapter 6 is entitled Hell and Judgment.  There, among other criticisms, Mark accuses Love Wins of implying, if not outrightly saying, that people in hell may have a chance to leave and go to heaven.  I did think Bell was suggesting that in Love Wins.  But so was C. S. Lewis in The Great Divorce.  In fact, I read Love Wins as simply restating much of what is in that book so beloved by many even conservative evangelicals!  Mark doesn’t see any biblical warrant for that and neither do I.  It is sheer speculation based on the character of God.  But Bell would simply ask if God is love and “love” means anything similar to what our highest ideas of love based on Scripture itself (e.g., 1 Cor. 13) how could God ever completely give up on anyone?  Mark raises some valid questions and concerns about that speculation.  But I’m not with him in his criticism that if people can go from hell to heaven it is necessarily the case that people could go from heaven to hell.  That overlooks deification–not just an Eastern Orthodox idea.  Wesley believed in it and used it as the reason why the redeemed will not be able to sin in heaven even thought they will still have free will.

Chapter 7 is entitled The Bad News: Universalism.  That’s an intriguing title and you should get the book and read the chapter for yourself.  I’ll just say that I agree that universalism is bad news.  But perhaps not for the same reason Mark thinks it is.  But my main concern with this chapter is that Mark, like many serious theologians in the Reformed tradition, seems to confuse freedom with free will in non-Reformed theologies.  What I mean is, he/they think we non-Reformed evangelicals (Arminians, Anabaptists) identify freedom with free will.  We don’t.  I don’t know about Bell.  Perhaps he does confuse or identify them.  I hope not.

Let me explain.  As Mark helpfully points out, true freedom is NOT having free choice.  True freedom is being what God intends for us to be–his faithful creatures restored in his image and likeness glorifying him.  Arminians agree with that.  But we don’t have that right now.  What we do have right now is free will–a gift of God’s prevenient grace whose purpose is to be used to cooperate with God’s renewing and redeeming grace to arrive at true freedom–something God wants for us but will not impose on us.  So free will is not true freedom.  But it is real.  True freedom is yet to be even though we may, by God’s grace, taste it here and now.

Mark thinks Bell revels too much in free will and confuses it with true freedom.  I hope not.  I didn’t get that sense from Love Wins.

The final chapter, Chapter 8, is entitled The Victory of a Personal God and this review is getting too long.  I would be surprised if anyone read this far (except Mark)!  I hope some will, but I’d better close or nobody, maybe not even Mark (!) will read on.

Let me wrap up.  I get the feeling that Mark wants Love Wins to be something that wouldn’t have gotten any attention at all–a rehearsal of traditional evangelical theology.  Perhaps he’s right.  Perhaps nobody should offer up anything else.  (I’m not saying Mark says that, but I wonder how far one could stray from it without being criticized.)  On the other hand, I think Love Wins does push the envelope of evangelical theology.  I don’t think it strays into heresy or even flirts with it, but it does intend to shock people out of their dogmatic slumbers into thinking hard about what they believe and it does intend to present them with some possibilities that are outside the evangelical mainstream.  How much Bell himself is committed to those possibilities remains something of a mystery, I think.

The strange thing is this.  I find myself agreeing with BOTH BOOKS!  How can that be?  I don’t mean I agree with everything in both books. That would land me in sheer contradiction.

To explain, let me once again appeal to something Karl Barth said.  Two of Barth’s interpreters had an argument about Barth’s belief about God in himself versus God for us.  Barth said both were right–vis-a-vis the extremes they were using Barth to fight against (one of which was Bultmann and I forget the other one).  Both couldn’t be right.  But both could be right vis-a-vis the perspectives they were using Barth to contradict.  Could it be that Bell is right (not wholly or completely but overall and in general) as an antidote to traditional “Sinners in the hands of an angry God,” hellfire and damnation, “let’s take delight in all those sinners going to hell” fundamentalist folk religion.  Could it be that Mark is right (not wholly or completely but overall and in general) as an antidote to serious lacunae in Bell’s theology brought about by his concern to correct extreme views of God’s wrath and hell?

In other words, would Bell perhaps have Mark’s perspective if he were in Mark’s place–trying to preserve biblical faith in a denomination in serious decline due to rampant liberal theology?  And would Mark perhaps have Bell’s perspective if he were in Bell’s place–trying to hold out a vision of God’s love in an evangelical world still fraught with hellfire and damnation preachers of God’s arbitrary sovereignty who sends people to hell for his glory?  Well, maybe not.  And I suspect both authors will think I’m belittling them which is not my intention.  I take them both seriously.  I just wonder if they are both right given their contexts and perspectives?

June 20, 2011

Occasionally here I have mentioned that one thing that really gets my ire up is when some neo-fundamentalists stoop to unethical means to undermine their theological opponents.  I alluded to the fact it has happened to me–especially with regard to open theism.

As everyone knows, I’m not an open theist but I have defended open theism as a legitimate evangelical option.  I personally knew Clark Pinnock and know Greg Boyd, John Sanders and William Hasker.  These were/are godly men who base their views of God’s foreknowledge on Scripture and not on accommodation to modernity, as they are sometimes accused of.

Just because I have come to their defense against neo-fundamentalist critics I have been slandered and my words and intentions misrepresented and even distorted publicly with the apparent intention to harm my reputation and possibly my career.  I also suspect in some cases the intention is to harm the institution where I teach.

This kind of behavior is so common, unfortunately, that I have publicly given up on dialogue with these neo-fundamentalists; I do not trust them.  Some have written here and to me by e-mail saying I should never give up on dialogue with fellow evangelicals.

Let me now cite a case study of why I do this.

In 2002 a dean of a Southern Baptist seminary wrote and released through the Baptist Press an article about open theism entitled “Cooperative Baptists, Texas partners ponder whether God knows the future.”  (Baptist Press articles such as this are often picked up by state Baptist newspapers.)

Here is what the seminary dean said about me: “Olson, who calls himself ‘open to open theism,’ denies that he is an open theist, but calls the new view more biblical than the traditional orthodox view of God as all-knowing, all-powerful and unchanging.”

When I saw that I was absolutely stunned.  I have never called open theism that or described it that way.  If I thought that about it, I would be an open theist!  (Of course, the description of the “traditional orthodox view of God” is also true of open theism!  Every open theist I know believes God is all-knowing, all-powerful unchanging (in character).

When I challenged the seminary dean about this and asked for his source (he never interviewed me for his article or any other time) he cited my endorsement of Greg Boyd’s book “God of the Possible” at amazon.com where I wrote that the book’s view of open theism is more biblical than the caricatures of open theism offered by some of its critics.

I e-mailed the seminary dean and the executive head of the Baptist Press (and my former colleague who also teaches at SBTS) pointing out that what I wrote about Boyd’s book hardly amounts to what he reported me saying about open theism.  His paraphrase isn’t even a paraphrase of what I said.  It amounts to a complete fabrication!  And attributing it to me could have damaged me in certain circles.

I demanded a retraction, but, to the best of my knowledge, it was not forthcoming. Even my former colleague and “friend” who now teaches theology at that seminary defended his dean’s attribution of that statement to me based on what I wrote about Boyd’s book and other things I have said in defense of open theism.  (I have never said anything even close to that about it!  I have always only defended it as a valid evangelical option and not a heresy.)

This and several similar incidents like it led me to believe there is no point in trying to have dialogue with neo-fundamentalists like this.  After that event I do not trust them.  By “neo-fundamentalist” I do not mean every conservative evangelical; I mean those who are so dedicated to the truth of their own theology that they are apparently willing to use almost any means including dishonesty to counter alternative evangelical beliefs and to discredit those who hold them or defend them as legitimate evangelical options.

I could cite other examples of the same kind of behavior.  One well-known conservative evangelical theologian claimed publicly that Greg Boyd embraced Charles Hartshorne’s process theological perspective in his dissertation published under the title Trinity and Process.  In fact, what Boyd said there was that he embraces the relational worldview while rejecting Hartshorne process theology.  In his dissertation Boyd used Jonathan Edwards relational view of God in his reflections on the Trinity to offer an alternative to Hartshorne’s process theism.

I have cited other examples here earlier.

Unfortunately, there are neo-fundamentalists working within evangelical circles spreading lies and misrepresentations about others’ theological views.  These people ought to be exposed publicly by major evangelical publishers.  Years ago Eternity magazine published a series of articles criticizing Bill Gothard.  As I have mentioned here before, Joe Bayly, an evangelical writer and columnist for Eternity, made it a regular feature of his articles to criticize bad behavior among evangelicals.  We need that again.

January 24, 2011

 

I apologize that some formatting may have been lost here–especially the blocking and indentation of lengthy quotes.

Arminianism is Evangelical Theology

Roger E. Olson

            One of the most distressing criticisms of Arminian theology is that it is not evangelical.  One does not have to read far into modern Calvinist literature to find this either implied or explicitly stated.  One example is from influential Reformed theologian Michael Horton, editor of Modern Reformation magazine and one-time director of the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals.  The May/June, 1992 issue of Modern Reformation was dedicated to criticism of Arminianism.  The issue’s title was simply “Arminianism.”  The cover showed an imaginary ballot labeled “Important Election.”  The question was “Will you be saved?”  On the ballot God voted for the person and Satan voted against and at the bottom it declared “A TIE! Your vote must decide the issue” as if this illustrated Arminian theology.  In fact, the imaginary ballot image was taken from a Southern Baptist evangelistic tract.  The “tie-breaking vote” illustration originated with Southern Baptist preacher and theologian Herschel Hobbs.

            Inside the special Arminianism issue of Modern Reformation various Reformed theologians blasted Arminianism as tantamount to the heresy of semi-Pelagianism.  The best example of this misrepresentation and of the claim that Arminianism cannot be authentically evangelical is in Michael Horton’s article “Evangelical Arminians” subtitled “Torn between two systems, evangelical Christians must make a choice.”  Near the end, Horton declares his thesis that “An evangelical cannot be an Arminian any more than an evangelical can be a Roman Catholic.” (p. 18)  Why did Horton and why do many other Reformed critics of Arminianism exclude it from evangelical theology?

            Horton’s reasons are representative of many other Reformed critics of Arminianism.  I know this because I was invited to participate in a meeting of the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals in Colorado Springs in 2001.  I was their token Arminian brought in to explain why I think Arminian theology can be authentically evangelical.  The discussions held over those two days revealed clearly that Horton’s article nicely sums up the main line of thinking about this matter among at least some Reformed theologians.

            Horton defines “evangelical” as adherence to the Reformation tenets of salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, because of Christ alone. (p. 15)  He admits that before 1520, the year in which Luther was excommunicated and therefore the date of the beginning of the Protestant Reformation, “evangelical” had a different meaning.  It referred to anyone who had a sincere love for Christ and a zeal for missions.  After 1520, however, Horton claims, “an evangelical was a person committed to the sufficiency of scripture, the priesthood of all believers, the total lostness of humans, the sole mediation of Christ, the gracious efficacy and finality of God’s redemptive work in Christ through election, propitiation, calling and keeping.” (p. 15)  Ultimately, according to Horton, authentic evangelical faith does not exist without what he regards as the distinctive Reformation doctrines of simul justus et peccator—“simultaneously justified and sinful” and monergism—unconditional election and irresistible grace.  He concludes “[h]istorically speaking, those who do not affirm those doctrines are, by virtue of the law of non-contradiction, not evangelicals.” (p. 16)

            I would like to suggest that Horton has simply committed an error of thought and argument.  He has defined a label in such a way as to exclude people he does not want in his camp or party.  In other words, his claim that these doctrines are necessary to authentic evangelical faith since 1520 is a mere assertion; he cannot prove it or even support it except to say that he and his peers have always used the label this way.  That others, such as Wesleyans and Anabaptists, have defined it differently is simply dismissed as irrelevant.  In fact, one can peruse the major historical treatises about the history and theology of the evangelical movement and not find this strict limitation to all the Reformation principles to which Horton appeals.  For example, David Bebbington and Mark Noll, two widely acknowledged experts on the history and character of the evangelical movement nowhere limit evangelical theology to Horton’s doctrinal hallmarks.  Their InterVarsity Press series “A History of Evangelicalism” traces the movement back to the Great Awakening with Jonathan Edwards, George Whitefield and the Wesley brothers as its progenitors.  Obviously, the Wesleys did not embrace all of Horton’s crucial doctrines.  And neither have many evangelicals since the Great Awakening.

            In his introductory article to the special Arminianism issue of  Modern Reformation Horton equates Arminianism with the ancient heresy of semi-Pelagianism which places the initium fidei in the sinner rather than in God and his grace.  (p. 4)  And he says that for Arminianism man’s contribution to salvation becomes central. (p. 6)  He writes that “Evangelicalism stands or falls with Calvinism” (p. 10) and he claims that Arminianism denies the Reformation belief that faith is a gift. (p. 16)  Horton’s argument can be summed up by his assertion that monergism, belief that God alone saves without any cooperation by the person being saved, is necessary for authentic evangelicalism. (p. 17)

            Horton and others like him reveal two things by these statements.  First, they arbitrarily pre-define evangelicalism their way so as to exclude adherents of theologies they don’t like, and second, they clearly have not read Arminius or any true, classical Arminian thinkers.  They may have read Charles Finney and misused him as a true representative of classical Arminianism and they may have read B. B. Warfield’s critical review of 19th century Methodist theologian John Miley’s Systematic Theology, but they cannot have read Arminius or Wesley or Fletcher or Watson or Pope or Summers or Wiley or Oden.  If they had, they would know that classical Arminians all believe that salvation is all of grace and by faith alone.

            Without accepting Horton’s narrow definition of evangelicalism, here I will demonstrate that Arminius, the touchstone of Arminian theology, and other, later Arminian theologians affirmed the core soteriological tenets of the Reformation.  Whether one must affirm them to be authentically evangelical I’ll leave to others to decide.  For my purposes here and now I will simply show that Arminius and his faithful followers of the past and present have always embraced salvation by grace alone through faith alone apart from works or merit on the part of the person being saved.  This seems to be the central fear of critics such as Horton—that Arminianism somehow attributes merit to the human person being saved so that salvation is not a free gift of God’s grace alone acquired through faith alone.  Of course, I cannot satisfy him or other Reformed critics insofar as they simply, arbitrarily insist that authentic evangelicalism must include belief in strict monergism.  But I consider that claim historically inaccurate and unsupportable.

            For me, following Bebbington and Noll and a host of other scholars of the evangelical movement such as Marsden, Carpenter, Stone, Collins, Bloesch, Balmer and McGrath, authentic evangelicalism necessarily includes a conversional soteriology that emphasizes salvation as regeneration as well as justification and rejects works as any foundation for it.  Evangelicalism centers around the unconditional good news that anyone who throws himself or herself on the mercy of God through repentance and faith in Jesus Christ and his atoning death on the cross, leaving behind all claims to meritorious righteousness, is saved.  This classical Arminianism teaches and it is therefore a form of evangelicalism.

            Some critics accuse Arminianism of implicitly denying this soteriology.  So I will begin my refutation with appeal to Arminius himself.  Then I will proceed to the Remonstrants such as Simon Episcopius and Philip Limborch and then to John Wesley and his followers, the 19th century Methodist theologians mentioned above, and conclude with appeal to 20th century Arminian theologians such as H. Orton Wiley and Thomas Oden.

            What did Jacob Arminius himself say about salvation? He went out of his way to affirm in every way possible its nature as sheer gift not dependent on good works or merits—except the merits of Christ.  Giving the lie to claims that he was a Pelagian or semi-Pelagian, making salvation partly dependent on good works or on human initiative (e.g., by exercising a good will toward God apart from supernatural assisting grace), Arminius strongly affirmed that regeneration precedes anything good in man and that grace is the beginning and continuance of all good that a person has or does.  In his “A Declaration of Sentiments” delivered to the Lords of the States of Holland less than one year before his death in 1609, Arminius said that

            [i]n his lapsed and sinful state, man is not capable, of and by himself, either to think, to will, or to do that which is really good; but it is necessary for him to be regenerated and renewed in his intellect, affections or will, and in all his powers, by God in Christ through the Holy Spirit, that he may be qualified rightly to understand, esteem, consider, will, and perform whatever is truly good.  When he is made a partaker of this regeneration or            renovation, I consider that, since he is delivered from sin, he is capable of thinking, willing, and doing that which is good, but yet not without the continued aids of Divine    grace. (The Works of James Arminius, Volume I, p. 659)

Shortly after that he added

            I ascribe to grace the commencement, the continuance and the consummation of all  good,–and to such an extent do I carry its influence, that a man, though already regenerate, can neither conceive, will nor do any good at all, nor resists any evil            temptation, without this preventing and exciting, this following and co-operating grace,–From this statement it will clearly appear, that I am by no means injurious or unjust to grace, by attributing, as it is reported of me, too much to man’s free-will…. (Ibid., p. 664)

            Immediately after that statement, Arminius went on to deny irresistible grace.  This, he thought was the nub of the disagreement between him and Gomarus and the other Calvinists who were persecuting him.  With them, however, he agreed entirely that salvation is all of grace and not at all based on any goodness or merit or even autonomous decision or choice of the person being saved.

            Arminius’ affirmation that regeneration precedes even the first movement of the will toward God may surprise even many Arminians.  It is usually thought that only Calvinists believe that regeneration precedes conversion.  However, as later Arminians explain perhaps better than Arminius himself did, the regeneration of which the Dutch theologian here spoke is not complete regeneration but a partial regeneration in which the bondage of the will to sin is released so that the sinner can for the first time respond freely God’s offer of mercy in Jesus Christ.  This is, of course, prevenient grace—an Arminian doctrine much neglected, misunderstood and sometimes maligned by Reformed critics of Arminianism.  It is a, if not the, distinctive doctrine of Arminian theology that sets it apart from all forms of monergistic soteriology.  For Arminius, at least, this prevenient grace of God, which is not merely common grace but supernatural grace, is not automatically salvific but it is essential to salvation.  Without it, the fallen human person could never exercise a good will toward God.

            In virtually every essay answering his critics, Arminius extolled the power and necessity of prevenient grace for salvation.  In his “Letter Addressed to Hippolytus A Collibus” he wrote that

            Free Will is unable to begin or to perfect any true and spiritual good, without Grace  That I might not be said, like Pelagius, to practice delusion with regard to the word “Grace,” I mean by it that which is the Grace of Christ and which belongs to regeneration: I affirm, therefore, that this grace is simply and absolutely necessary for the illumination of the   mind, the due ordering of the affections, and the inclination of the will to that which is good:  It is this grace which operates on the mind, the affections, and the will; which infuses good thoughts into the mind, inspires good desires into the affections, and bends the will to carry into execution good thoughts and good desires.  This grace…goes before, accompanies, and follows; it excites, assists, operates that we will, and cooperates   lest we will in vain.  It averts temptions, assists and grants succour in the midst of temptations, sustains man against the flesh, the world and Satan, and in this great contest grants to man the enjoyment of the victory.  It raises up again those who are conquered and have fallen, establishes and supplies them with new strength, and renders them more      cautious.  This grace commences salvation, promotes it, and perfects and consummates it. (Works, Volume II, p. 700)

A few sentences later Arminius wrote that “That teacher obtains my highest approbation who ascribes as much as possible to Divine Grace; provided he so pleads the cause of Grace, as not to inflict an injury on the Justice of God, and not to take away the free will to that which is evil.” (Ibid., pp. 700-701)

            In other words, Arminius believed and taught that the source of all good is God and his grace; nothing spiritually worthy arises from the human person alone—not even the first inclination of the mind or heart toward God.  God “bends the will” to the good but not irresistibly.  And God does not take away the person’s freedom to resist God’s grace.  In essence, then, what Arminius was saying is that the only thing the human person does in salvation is not resist the grace of God.  Everything else is God’s work alone and human non-resistance to God’s grace can hardly be called a “work.”  It certainly cannot be claimed as meritorious.

            And yet, some critics will claim it is meritorious.  A common saying among Reformed critics of Arminianism is that it makes the human decision not to resist the grace of God “the decisive factor in salvation” thus robbing salvation of its entirely gracious character.  This, of course, is sheer folly.  Suppose that critic gave a check for $1,000 to a student to save him from starvation and homelessness.  Suppose then the student went around claiming that by endorsing the check and depositing it in his account he actually earned part of the money so that it was not a sheer gift.  Suppose further that, when challenged, the student said “Well, I know of others who were offered money and didn’t accept it, so I must be better than them.”  Who would consider the student anything other than a stupid, ungrateful wretch?  Surely the Calvinist critic would so consider him.  So why do Calvinist critics of Arminianism continue to claim that the sheer decision to not resist the grace of God makes God’s salvation something less than a gift?  It boggles the mind.

            In order to put to rest any notion that he denied the sheer graciousness of salvation or somehow fell short of the fullness of Reformation belief in justification by grace alone through faith alone, Arminius adamantly denied any merits in human persons and affirmed even faith as a gift.  He also affirmed justification as the imputation of righteousness on the basis of faith alone as merely the instrumental and not effectual cause of justification.  In other words, he affirmed everything the critics demand except their version of monergism—unconditional election and irresistible grace.

            With regard to merits and the means of the blessings of salvation Arminius wrote that “God destines these means to no persons on account of or according to their own merits, but through mere grace alone: And he denies them to no one except justly on account of previous transgressions.” (Works, Volume II, p. 395)  With regard to justification he expressed full agreement with the Reformed and Protestant churches’ doctrines saying “I am not conscious to myself, of having taught or entertained any other sentiment concerning the justification of man before God, than those which are held unanimously by the Reformed and Protestant Churches, and which are in complete agreement with their expressed opinions.” (Works, Volume II, p. 695)  Lest anyone doubt, Arminius laid out his doctrine of justification clearly and unequivocally: “I believe that sinners are accounted righteous solely by the obedience of Christ; and that the righteousness of Christ is the only meritorious cause on account of which God pardons the sins of believers and reckons them as righteous as if they had perfectly fulfilled the law.” (Ibid., p. 700)   What about faith?  Arminius had a motto that he frequently stated and that was quoted by most of his followers, especially the 19th century Methodist Arminian theologians: “To a man who believes Faith is imputed for righteousness through grace.” (Ibid.)  To those who questioned then or question now his meaning he wrote of Calvin’s doctrine of justification as imputed righteousness by faith alone that “[m]y opinion is not so widely different from his as to prevent me from employing the signature of my own hand in subscribing to those things which he has delivered on this subject, in the Third Book of his Institutes; this I am prepared to do at any time, and to give them my full approval.” (Ibid.)

            Some critics, such as Horton, have accused Arminius and his followers of turning faith into a good work and teaching by this motto, “faith imputed for righteousness,” that faith is a substitute for righteousness.  Nothing could be further from Arminius’ meaning and that is demonstrated clearly by the context quoted above.  Clearly, for Arminius, faith is no substitute for righteousness; it is merely the instrumental means or “proximate cause” of obtaining the imputation of Christ’s righteousness.  Christ’s righteousness is the “meritorious cause of justification” and that which is imputed to the repentant sinner on account of his or her faith. (Works, Volume II, pp. 701-701)  Furthermore, Arminius argued that faith is a gift of God as well as an act of the believer; his teaching is a classical example of “both/and” thinking in theology.  Call it a paradox, if you will, but clearly Arminius held faith to be both a gift and a human act.  What he wanted to avoid by calling it a gift is any hint that it is a good work that merits salvation; what he wanted to avoid by calling it an act of the believer is any hint that the God-human relationship is an impersonal or mechanical one.  So, on the one hand, according to Arminius, “Faith is the requirement of God, and the act of the believer when he answers the requirement.” (Ibid., pp. 49-50)  On the other hand, “Faith is the gift of God, which is conferred on those only whom He hath chosen to this—that they may hear the word of God, and be made partakers of the Holy Spirit.” (Ibid., p. 67) 

            Normally people think that only Calvinists teach that faith is a gift of God; allegedly all others including Catholics and Arminians, believe faith is a work of man that partially merits salvation.  This is simply false; Arminius, at least, believed faith to be both a gift of God and an act of man in response to prevenient grace.  How can this paradox be relieved?  Is it a sheer contradiction?  I think not.  What Arminius meant is that God offers saving faith to a sinner under the influence of prevenient grace and the sinner, under that influence, allows himself to receive the gift.  The reception of the gift is also called “faith.”  But it is properly the empty receiving of the gift of faith which is confidence in God’s grace through the cross of Christ to the exclusion of one’s own righteousness.  At the moment a person receives that gift of faith by the act of faith he or she receives the imputation of righteousness.  The righteousness imputed is Christ’s. (Ibid., p. 701)  So, when Arminius says that “faith is imputed for righteousness” he is not making a work out of faith; he is simply saying that faith is the condition of the imputation of righteousness.  But we must understand that for Arminius even the condition is supplied by God.  All the person being saved does is freely receive it which is an act that can also properly be called “faith.”  The “faith that saves,” however, is a gift of God passively received.

            What about good works?  Did Arminius leave out good works entirely?  Was he an antinomian as some accused Calvinists of being?  Naturally, he did not want to emphasize good works because he was wrongly accused of making them a condition of salvation.  However, he often mentioned good works as a necessary concomitant of faith.  For example, in his “Letter Addressed to Hypollitus A Collibus” he stated that “Faith, and faith only, (although there is no faith alone without good works,) is imputed for righteousness.”  In other words, with Luther Arminius affirmed that true faith is always accompanied by good works, but good works are not part of faith or a condition of justification.

            I think that Arminius’ true soteriology would come as quite a shock to many people—both Reformed critics and uninformed Arminians.  It is thoroughly evangelical in the sense of attributing all of salvation entirely to God and his grace and requiring nothing of the human person except empty, passive reception of the gifts of grace.  And it is thoroughly Protestant in the sense of viewing justification as the gracious imputation of Christ’s righteousness on account of faith alone.  Whether Arminius would affirm the simul justus et peccator is open to debate, but I think he would.

            What about Arminians after Arminius?  Did the Remonstrance and Wesley and the 19th century Methodist theologians carry on Arminius’ strong affirmation of salvation by grace alone through faith alone because of Christ alone?  I believe a strong case can be made that they did with some slight alterations of emphasis.

            In 1621 Arminius’ main disciple Simon Episcopius wrote a document called “Confession or Declaration of the Remonstrant Pastors” which is commonly known as “The Arminian Confession of 1621.”  Interestingly, the self-proclaimed “Calvinist pastor of a Reformed baptistic church” who edited and translated the Confession for new publication in the Princeton Theological Monograph Series in 2005 writes in the Introduction that “[i]f one allows history to define labels, neither Arminius nor the Remonstrants were semi-Pelagian.” (The Arminian Confession of 1621 [Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2005], p. vi)  What do we find in this early Remonstrant Confession about grace and faith?  Echoing Arminius, the Confession says

            We think therefore that the grace of God is the beginning, progress and completion of all good, so that not even a regenerate man himself can, without this preceding or preventing, exciting, following and cooperating grace, think, will, or finish any good thing to be saved, much less resist any attractions and temptations to evil.  Thus faith, conversion, and all good works, and all godly and saving actions which are able to be thought, are to be ascribed solidly to the grace of God in Christ as their principal and           primary cause. (Ibid., p. 108)

What about faith?  Is it a work that merits salvation as critics of Arminianism say?  Hardly.  According to the Confession, “Man…does not have saving faith from himself, nor is he regenerated or converted by the powers of his own free will, seeing that in the state of sin he cannot of himself or by himself either think or will or do anything that is good enough to be saved.” (Ibid., p. 107)  The Confession goes on to say, with Arminius, that the sinner must first be regenerated by God in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit before he or she can even will anything that is savingly good. (Ibid., pp. 107-108)

            What about justification?  Does it require any good works?  Or is it wholly and exclusively by grace alone through faith alone?  Here is what the Confession says:

            Justification is  a merciful, gracious and indeed full remission of all guilt before God to truly repenting and believing sinners, through and because of Jesus Christ, apprehended by true faith, indeed, even more, [it is] the liberal and bountiful imputation of faith for righteousness.  For indeed in the judgment of God we cannot obtain to it except by the pure grace of God and only by faith in Jesus Christ…without any merit of our own works. (Ibid., p. 111)

What more do critics of Arminianism want?  Well, I supposed they want a clear and unequivocal affirmation of monergistic grace, but the evangel only requires this—the confession that salvation is a gift and not of works lest anyone should boast (Ephesians 2:8-9)  The Arminian Confession goes so far as to say, with Arminius, that faith is a gift and that regeneration must precede conversion and that justification is without merit a pure imputation of righteousness on account of faith alone.

            A case can be made that Arminianism began to take a wrong path with Episcopius’s disciple and nephew Philip Limborch whose system of theology minimized human depravity and downplayed the supernatural aspect of prevenient grace.  What actually happened, however, was not that Arminianism took a wrong path but that it split into two paths—what theologian Alan P. F. Sell calls “Arminianism of the head” and “Arminianism of the heart.”  Limborch and his late Remonstrant followers headed toward rationalism and deism; John Wesley and his followers preserved the true spirit of evangelical Arminianism.  Nevertheless, even Limborch affirmed that God, not man, is the primary cause of both repentance and faith even though the person being saved must “concur” with the divine operation of grace. (A Complete System, or, Body of Divinity, trans., William Jones [London: John Darby, 1713], p. 531)  Of justification Limborch wrote that “[i]t denotes a declaration of righteousness, that is, absolving a man from guilt, and treating him as one that is righteous.” (Ibid., p. 835)  Also, in justification, “[a] man is esteemed by God as righteous upon account of his faith.” (Ibid., p. 836)  Finally, Limborch’s full definition of justification is as follows: “[j]ustification is the merciful and gracious act of God, whereby he fully absolves from all guilt the truly penitent and believing soul, through and for the sake of Christ apprehended by a true faith, or gratuitously remits sins upon account of faith in Jesus Christ, and graciously imputes that faith for righteousness.” (Ibid., p. 836)  Limborch’s description of the synergism of salvation was not as subtle or paradoxical as Arminius’s and that is where he begins to get into trouble as an evangelical.  In some places he emphasized the human side of the synergism calling faith an “act of obedience” and he denied that the righteousness imputed to the believer is Christ’s. (Ibid., pp. 838 and 837 respectively)  Nevertheless, he clearly rejected any idea of human merit in faith and taught that salvation is a free gift of grace received by faith alone.

            John Wesley was a true Arminian in spite of what some Calvinists claim.  One notable Reformed theologian has called him a “confused Calvinist”—probably because of his strong belief in human depravity apart from supernatural grace and because of his strong emphasis on grace.  Wesley himself said many times that his theology was “on the very edge of Calvinism” or a “hair’s breadth from Calvinism.”  In his book John Wesley’s Scriptural Christianity (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994) Thomas Oden quotes from Wesley’s “Minutes of 1745:” “Q[uestion] 23. Wherein may we come to the very edge of Calvinism? A[nswer] (1.) In ascribing all good to the free grace of God. (2.) In denying all natural free will, and all power antecedent to grace. And (3.) In excluding all merit from man, even for what he has or does by the grace of God.” (p. 253)  His Arminianism was evident, however, in his strong rejection of unconditional election and irresistible grace—see his sermons “Predestination Calmly Considered” and “Free Grace”—and in his affirmation of synergism in salvation.  What did he mean by synergism—a dirty word to Calvinists?  Wesley explicitly rejected semi-Pelagianist synergism and defined his synergism this way (as paraphrased by Oden): “By synergism we do not imply that fallen freedom retains a natural capacity to reach out and take the initiative and establish a restored relationship with God.  Rather by synergism we mean that human freedom by grace is being enabled to cooperative interactively with God’s saving plan.  It is the coworking by grace of human willing with the divine willing.” (Ibid., p. 269)  This is what I call “evangelical synergism” as opposed to semi-Pelagian or Roman Catholic synergism.

            Some Calvinist critics accuse Wesley of attributing a part of salvation to human effort in a way that attributes it to human merit rather than solely to grace.  This is Horton’s treatment (or one should say “mistreatment”) of Wesley in his article “Evangelical Arminians.”  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Hear Wesley on salvation:

            [i]t is free in all to whom it is given.  It does not depend on any power or merit in man; no, not in any degree, neither in whole, nor in part.  It does not in any wise depend either on the good works or righteousness of the receiver; not on anything he has done, or anything he is.  It does not depend on his good tempers, or good desires, or good purposes and intentions; for all these flow from the free grace of God. (“Free Grace” in The Works of John Wesley, Volume 3, ed., Albert Outler (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1986, p. 545)

Also, Wesley wrote that “Whatever good is in man, or is done by man, God is the author and doer of it.” (Ibid.)  What more can anyone ask of an evangelical theologian?  Contrary to what Horton and other critics imply, Wesley attributed everything in salvation to God alone.

            What about justification and faith?  Wesley preached two sermons entitled “Salvation by Faith” and “Justification by Faith” in which he delivered as strong an account of justification by grace alone through faith alone as possible.  In the former sermon he even declared all good works “unholy and sinful.”  (John Wesley: The Best from All His Works, abridged and edited by Stephen Rost [Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 1989], p. 91)  Of course, he meant good works insofar as they are compared with Christ’s righteousness and viewed as a cause of salvation, which they are not and cannot be.  In the same sermon Wesley declared that “[n]one can trust in the merits of Christ till he has utterly renounced his own.” (Ibid., p. 99)  He also preached that in salvation God does all so that he “leaveth us nothing whereof to glory.” (Ibid., p. 98)

            So what is justification according to Wesley?  Here he departed somewhat from Arminius and other Arminians in asserting that justification is not an imputation of Christ’s righteousness to the sinner which Wesley considered a legal fiction and therefore unworthy of God.  He defined justification as “[p]ardon, the forgiveness of sins.” (Ibid., p. 182)  However, he clearly distinguished it from sanctification: “[i]t is not the being made actually just and righteous.  This is sanctification….” (Ibid., p. 181)  So, for Wesley, justification is not forensically imputed righteousness, but neither is it, as in Roman Catholic theology, being made righteous inwardly.  It is the total and complete forgiveness of sins for the sake of Christ and his atoning death on account of faith alone.  Wesley preached that

            Faith…is the necessary condition of justification.  Yea, and the only necessary condition thereof. … [t]he very moment God giveth faith (for it is the gift of God) to the ‘ungodly’ that ‘worketh not,’ that ‘faith is counted to him for righteousness.’ He hath no righteousness at all antecedent to this, not so much as negative righteousness, or innocence.  But ‘faith is imputed to him for righteousness’ the very moment that he believeth.  Not that God…thinketh him to be what he is not.  But as ‘he made Christ to be  sin for us,’ that is, treated him as a sinner, punishing him for our sins; so he counteth us righteous from the time we believe in him.  That is, he doth not punish us for our sins, yea, treats us as though we were guiltless and righteous. (Ibid., p. 188)

    How are we to interpret this?  Wesley sounds confused.  I suggest that what he is saying is that the righteousness we have in justification on account of faith only and by God’s grace alone is not Christ’s righteousness imputed to us but God’s considering us as if we were righteous.  That is, in justification God treats us as if we were righteous while knowing we are not.  Wesley was apparently afraid that the doctrine of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness to us would lead inevitably to antinomianism.  Admittedly, Reformed folks will never be satisfied with this, but the point is that Wesley affirmed the forgiveness of sins in which we are accounted righteous by God to be wholly and exclusively a gift.  Even faith, he said, is a gift of God and not a meritorious work.  I think Wesley could have affirmed the doctrine of imputed righteousness, even the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, if he had not been so nervous about antinomianism and if he had not been afraid of implying that God deceives himself about what we actually are.  Neither of these things is necessarily attached to the doctrine of Christ’s imputed righteousness.

            What about the 19th century Arminian Methodist theologians—Wesley’s main interpreters and the main conveyors of evangelical Arminianism in that century?  Were they evangelical in their soteriology?  That is, did they remain faithful to the great Reformation truth of sola gratia et fides?  I believe they did.  They consistently rejected salvation by works and human merit as having any role in salvation.  Their version of the gospel of Jesus Christ was genuinely good news—that God loves all people, wants all to be saved,  has freely provided salvation for everyone and requires nothing but faith for salvation.

            One of the earliest and most influential 19th century Arminian theologians was Richard Watson whose Theological Institutes was published in 1851.  Another was William Burton Pope who wrote A Compendium of Christian Theology and who died in 1903.  Another was Thomas O. Summers, author of Systematic Theology: A Complete Body of Wesleyan Arminian Divinity published in 1888.  Finally, there was John Miley who wrote Systematic Theology in 1893.  Together these four represent the cream of the Arminian crop between Wesley and the 20th century.  They largely handed on the Arminian faith to the 20th century.  Rather than treat them one-by-one I would like to select quotes from some of them on the crucial subjects of evangelical soteriology.  They largely agree on these matters; their differences are minor.  One area of disagreement among them is the atonement; some of them believed in the penal substitution theory, with Wesley himself, and some of them believed in the governmental theory with Arminius’ follower Hugo Grotius.  On the major soteriological doctrines, however, they were largely agreed.

            First, then, the necessity of supernatural grace for anything spiritually good in the human person including even a first inclination toward God.  Watson: “It is not denied, that the will, in its purely natural state, and independent of all grace communicated to man through Christ, can incline only to evil.” (Institutes, Volume II, p. 438)  According to him, even repentance is a gift of God; sinful men are not capable of repentance. (Ibid., p. 99)  Watson emphasized that even repentance does not save; only the death of Christ saves and restores the lost relationship with God. (Ibid., p. 102)  Finally, Watson writes that “[s]acred is the doctrine to be held, that no person can repent or truly believe except under the influence of the Spirit of God; and that we have no ground for boasting in ourselves, but that all the glory of our salvation, commenced and consummated, is to be given to God alone, as the result of the freeness and riches of his grace.” (Ibid., p. 447)

            William Burton Pope declared in his Compendium the “inability of man to do what is good” apart from renewing grace. (Volume II, pp. 65, 67)  Also, “The natural man …is without the power even to co-operate with Divine influence.  The co-operation with grace is of grace.  Thus it keeps itself for ever safe from Pelagianism and semi-Pelagianism.” (p. 80)  With regard to grace, Pope wrote that “It is the sole, efficient cause of all spiritual good in man: of the beginning, continuance, and consummation of religion in the human soul.  The manifestation of Divine influence which precedes the full regenerate life receives no special name in Scripture; but it is so described as to warrant the designation usually given it of Prevenient Grace.” (p. 359)  Also, “[t]he salvation of man is altogether of grace” (p. 361) and “The Grace of God and the human will are co-operant, but not on equal terms.  Grace has the pre-eminence….” (p. 364)

            What about Thomas O. Summers?  He strongly defended the doctrine of inherited total depravity firmly rejecting Pelagianism and semi-Pelagianism.  According to him, “Apart from grace the will is bad, because the man’s nature is so bad that of himself he cannot choose that which is right.” (Systematic Theology, Volume I, pp. 64-65)  Also, “It is impossible for a man in this [natural] state to will and to do works pleasant and acceptable to God.” (Ibid., p. 68)  Finally, he affirmed that “[n]oone can repent or believe without the aid of God’s grace….” (Ibid., p. 120)

            Our final 19th century witness to Arminianism’s emphasis on the priority of grace  is John Miley who said of man’s “native depravity” “This is a state of alienage from the true spiritual life, and utterly without fitness for a state of holy blessedness.  Nor have we any power of self-redemption.” (Systematic Theology, p. 529)  Miley argued that the power of choice in spiritual matters is a “gracious endowment” and not a natural capacity and that moral regeneration is entirely a work of the divine Spirit. (Ibid., p. 305)  Only with the help of the Holy Spirit can a person choose to accept God’s mercy.

            What about justification and faith?  Did the 19th century Arminians believe, like Arminius and Wesley before them, that justification is entirely a work of grace through faith without meritorious works?  Did they believe righteousness is imputed and not imparted or infused?  Richard Watson affirmed that “Justification by faith alone is…clearly the doctrine of the Scriptures.” (Theological Institutes, Volume II, p. 246)  He also affirmed faith as the sole condition for justification to the exclusion of virtue or good works (Ibid., p. 253) and taught that sanctification cannot be a formal cause of justification (Ibid., p. 251).  As for imputation of righteousness, Watson claimed the motto “the imputation of faith for righteousness” and explained it thus: “The Scriptural doctrine is…that the death of Christ is accepted in the place of our personal punishment, on condition of our faith in him; and, that when faith in him is actually exerted, then comes in, on the part of God, the act of imputing, or reckoning righteousness to us.” (Ibid., p. 242)

            William Burton Pope wrote that “[j]ustification is declaratory and altogether of grace.” (Compendium, Volume II, p. 411) and faith is its sole instrumental cause while Christ’s obedience is its sole meritorious cause.  The Holy Spirit is justification’s sole efficient cause. (Ibid., p. 414)  About justification he said: “Justification is the Divine judicial act which applies to the sinner, believing in Christ, the benefit of the Atonement, delivering him from condemnation of his sin, introducing him into a state of favour, and treating him as a righteous person. … [i]t is the imputed character of justification which regulates the New Testament use of the word.” (Ibid., p. 407) 

            Thomas Summers unequivocally affirmed justification by grace through faith alone as well as justification’s declaratory nature and the imputed nature of righteousness.  “In justification we are accounted , accepted—dealt with—as if we were righteous, just as pardoned culprits, who are not by their pardon made innocent, are dealt with as if they were not criminals.” (Systematic Theology, Volume I, p. 121)

            John Miley also affirmed justification by grace through faith alone: “The imputation of faith for righteousness is…easily understood.  It means simply that faith is accepted [by God] as the condition of justification or the remission of sin, whereby the believing sinner is set right with God.” (Systematic Theology, Volume I, p. 320)  He taught that faith as trust is the only condition of justification (Ibid., p. 323) and that justification requires no interior moral change (Ibid., p. 312).  According to him, justification is at once complete the moment the believing sinner exercises faith in Christ—it sets him right with God as if he had never sinned. (Ibid., p. 313)

            I could go on and offer similar quotations and arguments from 20th century Arminians such as H. Orton Wiley, the leading 20th century Nazarene theologian, and Thomas Oden, a contemporary evangelical Methodist theologian.  Time and space prevent it.  Suffice it to say, however, that both teach unequivocally that salvation is a sheer gift of God’s grace given apart from any human merit, received by faith alone resulting in the imputation of righteousness. 

            So what more do Reformed critics of Arminianism want?  First, they want affirmation of monergistic grace—something they require not because it is clearly taught in Scripture but because they think it is logically necessary for salvation sola gratia et fides.  Of course, it isn’t.  Second, they want affirmation of justification as the imputation of Christ’s active and passive obedience to the sinner.  Arminians have been reluctant to offer that because it is not specifically taught in Scripture and because it could easily result in antinomianism.  Finally, Calvinists want a clear and unequivocal affirmation of the simul justus et peccator—something many Arminians are reluctant to offer because it implies a static salvation that ignores the transforming power of the Holy Spirit in sanctification.  Arminians affirm everything necessary for a fully evangelical soteriology; Calvinists require more.  Why?  One wonders if it is because they are over reacting to the Roman Catholic doctrine of salvation that includes salvation by means of human merit and confuses justification with sanctification?  I suspect that is the case.  But it is always wrong to over react and the Calvinist over reaction of strict monergism suffers a fate as bad or worse than its opposite.  It makes salvation a mechanical process in which those being saved are puppets rather than free partners in a relationship.


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