CHAPTER EIGHT: Of the Predestination and Providence of God (part 2 of 3)
Election, which the Lord otherwise keeps hidden within himself, is finally manifested by his calling. For this reason, I commonly call calling the testimony of election:
“Those whom he chose beforehand, he predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son; those whom he thus predestined, he called; and those whom he called, he justified, that he might one day glorify them.”
Although the Lord, in choosing his own, adopted them as his children, we nevertheless see that they do not enter into possession of so great a blessing until he calls them. On the other hand, once they are called, they already enjoy in some measure their election. For this reason Saint Paul calls the Spirit whom they receive the Spirit of adoption, and also the seal and pledge of their future inheritance, because by his testimony he confirms and seals within their hearts the certainty of that adoption.
The Lord therefore chooses as his children those whom he elects and determines to be their Father; but by calling them, he brings them into his household and communicates himself to them. By thus joining calling with election, Scripture plainly shows that nothing is to be sought in it except God’s free mercy. For if we ask whom he calls and why, Scripture answers: those whom he has chosen. But when we come to election, mercy alone appears on every side, according to Saint Paul’s declaration:
“It is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.”
This must not be understood in the common manner, dividing the work between God’s grace and man’s willing and running. For they explain it to mean that man’s desire and effort can accomplish nothing unless God’s grace gives them success, but that if God adds his assistance, both man’s desire and effort contribute something toward obtaining salvation.
I prefer to refute this evasion by Saint Augustine’s words rather than my own: “If the Apostle intended only to say that it does not lie entirely within the power of him who wills or runs unless the Lord assists him by his mercy, we might turn the statement around and say that it does not lie in God’s mercy alone unless that mercy is assisted by man’s willing and running. If this is plainly wicked, we must not doubt that the Apostle intended to assign everything to God’s mercy, leaving nothing to our will or effort.” Those are the words of that holy man.
I do not value a straw the subtlety they allege: that Saint Paul would not have spoken in this way unless there were some effort and willingness in us. For he was not considering what might exist in man. Rather, seeing that some attributed part of man’s salvation to their own exertion, in the first part of his statement he simply condemns their error; then he maintains that the whole sum of salvation lies in God’s mercy.
And what else do the Prophets do but continually proclaim God’s free calling? We also see this in the substance of calling itself, for it consists in the preaching of the Word and the illumination of the Holy Spirit. The Prophet tells us to whom our Lord offers his Word:
“I was found by those who did not seek me; I appeared to those who did not inquire after me. I said to those who did not call upon my name, ‘Here I am.’”
And lest the Jews should imagine that such grace belonged only to the Gentiles, the Lord reminds them from where he took their father Abraham when he willed to receive him into his favor: from the midst of the idolatry in which he was engulfed together with all his relatives (Joshua 24:2–3). Since God enlightens by his Word those who have merited nothing, he thereby gives a sufficiently clear sign of his free goodness.
Yet lest the flesh should boast that it responds to him when called, God declares that we possess neither ears to hear nor eyes to see unless he has formed them for us. Furthermore, he forms them not according to the worthiness of each person, but according to his election. We have a notable example of this in Saint Luke, where it is said that Jews and Gentiles alike heard Saint Paul’s preaching. Although all were taught by the same doctrine, we read:
“As many as had been ordained to eternal life believed.”
Should we not be ashamed to deny that calling is free, when election alone reigns in it from beginning to end?
This testimony refutes not only those who make man God’s partner, cooperating in the accomplishment of his calling, but also those who teach us to regard election as uncertain and suspended until it is confirmed by calling. It is indeed confirmed by calling, provided that by this word we mean only that election is attested by a sure testimony and, as it were, sealed. But it is false to say that election possesses no validity until we have received the gospel, or that it derives its power from our reception of it.
Just as those who teach that the power and firmness of election depend upon the faith by which we enter into its fellowship act perversely, so, on the other hand, we shall observe a very good order if, in seeking assurance of our election, we rest upon those signs which are its certain testimonies.
The Devil has no more grievous or dangerous temptation with which to shake believers than when, troubling them with doubts concerning their election, he entices them with a foolish desire to seek it outside the proper way. By seeking it outside the proper way, I mean when a poor man strives to penetrate the incomprehensible secrets of divine wisdom and, in order to discover what God has decreed concerning him in his judgment, attempts to search from the beginning of eternity.
Then he casts himself headlong into a deep gulf to drown; he entangles himself in snares from which he will never be able to escape; and he enters an abyss of darkness from which he will never emerge. For it is right that the presumption of the human understanding should be punished with such dreadful ruin when it attempts by its own power to ascend to the height of divine wisdom.
The temptation I have described is all the more deadly because nearly all of us are inclined toward it. Very few are not touched in their hearts by this thought: From where does your salvation come except from God’s election? And how is this election revealed? Once this thought takes possession of a man, it either torments him grievously or leaves him altogether bewildered and cast down.
I could have no more fitting proof of how perversely such people conceive of predestination. For the human mind cannot be infected by a more deadly error than when the conscience is disturbed and deprived of the peace and rest it ought to possess with God. This subject is like a sea; if we fear perishing in it, we must above all beware of the rock against which no one can strike without disaster.
Although this discussion of predestination is regarded as a dangerous sea, navigation upon it is safe, peaceful, and even joyful, unless someone deliberately seeks to place himself in danger. For just as those who, in order to gain certainty of their election, attempt to enter God’s eternal counsel apart from his Word cast themselves headlong into a deadly abyss, so those who seek election rightly and in the order in which it is revealed in Scripture derive from it singular consolation.
Let this, then, be our way of investigating election: we must begin with God’s calling and end with it, since the Lord wills calling to serve as the mark or sign by which we are assured of everything it is lawful to know concerning his counsel. And lest this testimony appear weak to anyone, let us consider how much clarity and certainty it brings us.
First, if we desire assurance of God’s fatherly mercy and goodwill toward us, we must turn our eyes to Christ, in whom alone the Father’s good pleasure rests (Matthew 3:17). If we seek salvation, life, and immortality, neither must we resort elsewhere, since Christ alone is the fountain of life, the harbor of salvation, and the heir of the heavenly kingdom.
Now, toward what end does election tend except that, being adopted by God as his children, we should obtain salvation and immortality through his grace and love? However much one may turn, examine, or scrutinize the matter, it will be found that the purpose of our election extends no further than this.
Therefore, those whom God has chosen to be his children are not said to have been chosen in themselves, but in his Christ, because he could not love them except in him, nor honor them with his inheritance without first making them participants in Christ (Ephesians 1:4–5). If, then, we are chosen in Christ, we shall not find certainty of our election in ourselves, nor even in God the Father if we imagine him apart from his Son.
Christ, therefore, is the mirror in which we must contemplate our election, and in which we shall behold it without deception. For since he is the one into whose body the heavenly Father determined to incorporate from all eternity those whom he willed to be his own, so that he would acknowledge as his children all whom he recognized as Christ’s members, we possess a sufficiently firm and evident testimony that we are written in the book of life if we have communion with Christ.
Now Christ has sufficiently communicated himself to us when, through the preaching of the gospel, he has testified that he is given to us by the Father to be ours with all his benefits. He bears witness to us, I say, that all who receive him with true faith will be regarded by the heavenly Father as his children.
If we desire something beyond being God’s children and heirs, we may indeed attempt to climb higher than Christ. But if this is our final boundary, is it not sheer madness to seek outside Christ what we have already obtained in him and what can be found in him alone? Furthermore, since he is the Father’s eternal wisdom, immutable truth, and settled counsel, we need not fear that what he declares to us by his mouth differs in the least from the Father’s will which we seek to know. Rather, he faithfully reveals that will to us as it was from the beginning and will always remain.
This also contributes greatly to establishing our confidence: the certainty of our election is joined to our calling. Those whom Christ has enlightened with the knowledge of himself and brought into the fellowship of his Church, he is said to receive under his protection and care. Moreover, all whom he receives are said to have been entrusted by the Father to his keeping, so that he may conduct them to eternal life.
What more do we desire? The Lord Jesus proclaims openly that the Father has committed to his protection all whom he wills to save (John 6:37–40; 10:27–29; 17:6–12). Therefore, when we wish to know whether God has taken our salvation into his care, let us ask whether he has entrusted us to Christ, whom he has appointed the sole guardian of all his people.
If we doubt whether Christ has received us into his protection and safekeeping, he answers that doubt by presenting himself as our Shepherd and declaring that he will number us among his sheep if we listen to his voice (John 10:27). Let us therefore receive Christ, since he offers himself to us so graciously and comes forward to receive us.
There is no doubt that he will keep us among his flock and preserve us within his fold. But someone will say that we must be concerned about what may happen to us, and that when we think of the future, our weakness admonishes us to be watchful. For although Saint Paul says that God calls those whom he has chosen, the Lord Jesus also says:
“Many are called, but few are chosen.”
Saint Paul likewise discourages us elsewhere from careless security:
“Let him who stands take heed lest he fall.”
Again:
“Have you been incorporated into the Church of God? Do not become proud, but fear, for the Lord can cut you off and put another in your place.”
Finally, experience shows us that faith and calling are of little value unless perseverance is joined to them, and perseverance is not given to all.
I answer that Christ has delivered us from this perplexity, for there is no doubt that the following promises concern the future:
“Everything the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will not cast out.”
Again:
“This is the will of my Father: that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but should raise it up at the last day.”
Again:
“My sheep hear my voice and follow me. I know them and give them eternal life, and no one shall snatch them from my hand. My Father, who gave them to me, is greater than all; therefore no one shall be able to snatch them from his hand.”
What did Christ intend to teach us here except to assure us that we shall possess eternal salvation once we have been made his?
It will be objected that every day some who appeared to belong to Christ fall away and perish. Indeed, in the place where he says that none of those given to him by the Father has perished, he excepts the son of perdition. That is true, but it is equally certain that such people never adhered to Christ with that confidence of heart by which, as we say, our election is made certain to us.
“They went out from us,” says Saint John, “but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us.”
I do not deny that they possess signs resembling those of the elect, but I do not concede to them that firm foundation of their election which believers ought, as I have said, to derive from the Word of the gospel.
Let such examples therefore not disturb us or prevent us from resting securely upon the promises of the Lord Jesus, in which he declares that the Father has given him all those by whom he is received in true faith, and that none of their number will perish, since he is their guardian and protector. Judas will be discussed elsewhere.
As for Saint Paul, he does not simply forbid us all security, but rather that carnal carelessness which carries with it pride, presumption, and contempt for others, extinguishes humility and reverence for God, and causes us to forget his grace. For in that passage he speaks to the Gentiles, admonishing them not to insult the Jews proudly and inhumanely merely because they had been put in the place from which the others had been removed.
Likewise, he does not require a fear that causes us to waver in terror, but one which, by teaching us humbly to revere God’s grace, diminishes nothing of the confidence we have in him, as has been said elsewhere.
As for Christ’s statement that many are called but few are chosen, it is very far from bearing the meaning they assign to it. To understand it properly, we must note that there are two kinds of calling. There is a universal calling, which consists in the outward preaching of the gospel, by which the Lord invites all men to himself indiscriminately —even those to whom he presents it as an aroma of death and as the occasion of a more severe condemnation.
There is also another, special calling, of which he ordinarily makes believers alone participants, when by the inward illumination of his Spirit he causes the doctrine to take root in their hearts. Yet sometimes he also employs such a calling toward those whom he enlightens for a time and afterward, because of their ingratitude, abandons and casts into still greater blindness.
The Lord Jesus saw that the gospel was then being proclaimed to many, yet rejected by many, despised by others, and honored by very few. He therefore represents God to us under the person of a king who, wishing to hold a solemn banquet, sends his servants here and there to invite a great multitude. But scarcely any promise to come, for each alleges some hindrance. Because of their refusal, he is compelled to summon everyone who can be found in the streets. Everyone can plainly see that up to this point the parable must be understood of the outward calling.
He then adds that God, like a host receiving his guests, goes from table to table to welcome and honor all whom he has admitted. If he finds anyone without a wedding garment, he declares that he will not permit him to dishonor his banquet, but will cast him out.
I confess that this part must be understood of those who profess faith and are therefore received into the Church, but who are not clothed with the sanctification of Christ. It is therefore declared that the Lord will not forever tolerate such plagues, which do nothing but bring disgrace upon his Church, but will cast them out according to what their shamefulness deserves.
Thus few are chosen from the great number who have been called, but this is not the calling from which we teach believers to discern their election. For the calling spoken of there extends even to the wicked, whereas the second carries with it the Spirit of regeneration, who is the pledge and seal of the future inheritance and by whom our hearts are marked until the day of resurrection.
This is also the reason Christ makes the exception already mentioned when he says that none of his sheep has perished except Judas. Judas was numbered among Christ’s sheep, not because he truly was one, but because he occupied a place among them. When the Lord says elsewhere that he had chosen him with the other Apostles, this must be referred only to his office:
“I have chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil.”
That is, he had appointed him an Apostle. But when Christ speaks of election to salvation, he separates Judas from the number of the elect:
“I do not speak of you all; I know whom I have chosen.”
If anyone confuses the meaning of election in these passages, he will entangle himself miserably. If he knows how to distinguish them, nothing is easier.
Saint Gregory therefore spoke very poorly when he said that we may know our calling but remain uncertain of our election. From this he exhorted men to terror and trembling, reasoning that we know what we are today but do not know what we shall be tomorrow. Yet the course of his argument plainly reveals how he fell into this error. Because he founded election upon the merit of works, he had abundant reason to terrify men and make them distrustful, but he could not strengthen them because he did not direct them to confidence in God’s goodness.
From this believers may gain some sense of what we said at the beginning: predestination, when rightly considered, does not trouble or shake faith, but rather establishes it most firmly.
The elect are not all gathered by the Lord’s calling into Christ’s flock from their mother’s womb, nor are they all called at the same time, but according as it pleases God to dispense his grace to them. Before they are converted to the sovereign Shepherd, they wander like the rest and are scattered amid the universal disorder of the world. They differ in nothing from others except that God, by singular mercy, preserves them from falling into eternal ruin.
If, therefore, we consider them in themselves, we shall see the offspring of Adam, which can manifest nothing but the perversity of its origin. That they do not fall into desperate ungodliness does not arise from any natural goodness, but because the Lord’s eye watches over their salvation and his hand is extended to conduct them toward it.
Those who imagine that some mysterious seed of election is rooted in their hearts from birth, continually inclining them toward the fear of God, possess no authority from Scripture to prove their opinion, and experience itself refutes them. They bring forward certain examples to prove that some of the elect were not entirely without religion before being properly enlightened. They allege that Saint Paul was blameless in his Pharisaism, and that Cornelius the centurion was pleasing to God through his prayers and alms (Acts 10:1–4).
Concerning Saint Paul, I grant what they say. Concerning Cornelius, I say they are mistaken, for he had already been regenerated and enlightened; nothing remained lacking in him except a clearer revelation of the gospel.
But what will they finally gain even if we concede a dozen such examples? Will they conclude that all God’s elect possessed the same disposition? That would be as though someone, having demonstrated the integrity of Socrates, Aristides, Xenocrates, Scipio, Curius, Camillus, and other pagans, wished to infer that all who were blinded by idolatry led holy and blameless lives.
Besides the fact that their argument is worthless, Scripture openly contradicts them in many places. For the condition which Saint Paul describes as having existed among the Ephesians before their regeneration does not display a single grain of this seed.
“You were dead,” he says, “in trespasses and sins, in which you walked according to the course of this world and according to the Devil, who now works in the rebellious. Among them we all formerly lived, following the desires of our flesh and doing whatever seemed good to us; and we were all by nature heirs of God’s wrath, like the rest.”
Again:
“Remember that you were once without hope and without God in this world.”
Again:
“You were once darkness, but now, being light in the Lord, walk as children of light.”
They may perhaps say that this must be referred only to ignorance of the truth, in which they readily confess believers are held before their calling. Yet this is an impudent evasion, since Saint Paul infers from this teaching that the Ephesians must no longer lie or steal.
But even if we grant them this, what will they answer to other passages? For example, after declaring to the Corinthians that idolaters, the sexually immoral, adulterers, the effeminate, sodomites, thieves, and the covetous will not possess the kingdom of God, he immediately adds that they had been entangled in these crimes before knowing Christ, but had now been cleansed by his blood and delivered by his Spirit:
“Such were some of you. But you have been washed, sanctified, and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.”
Likewise, he says to the Romans:
“As you formerly yielded your members to the service of uncleanness and iniquity, so now yield them to the service of righteousness. For what fruit did you have from your former life, of which you are now ashamed?”
—Romans 6:19, 21
What seed of election, I ask, was bearing fruit in those who, leading altogether wicked and shameful lives and acting almost from desperate malice, had abandoned themselves to the most detestable sins in the world?
If the Apostle had wished to speak after the manner of these new teachers, he ought to have reminded them how indebted they were to God for not allowing them to fall into such misery. Saint Peter likewise ought to have exhorted those to whom he wrote to give thanks to God for preserving them by giving them from the beginning a seed of holiness. But on the contrary, he admonishes them:
“The time already past is sufficient for you to have given free rein to every wicked desire.”
And what if we turn to examples? What seed was there in Rahab, a prostitute before she believed? Or in Manasseh, while he was shedding the blood of the Prophets until it overflowed the city of Jerusalem? Or in the thief who came to repentance as he breathed his last?
Let us therefore abandon these frivolous inventions which certain curious minds fabricate outside Scripture. Rather, let what Scripture contains remain firmly established:
“We have all been like poor wandering sheep, and each of us has turned aside to his own way.”
That is, each has turned toward destruction. From this gulf of perdition the Lord withdraws those whom he pleases—not all at once, but delaying until his appointed time. Meanwhile, he preserves them so that they do not fall into unpardonable blasphemy.
As the Lord, by the power of his calling, conducts his elect to the salvation to which he had predestined them in his eternal counsel, so he also exercises his judgments upon the reprobate, by which he executes what he has determined to do with them. Therefore, those whom he has created for damnation and eternal death, so that they may be vessels of his wrath and examples of his severity, he brings to their appointed end either by depriving them of the opportunity to hear his Word or by further blinding and hardening them through its preaching.
Of the first kind we have innumerable examples, but we shall select one which is especially notable. For more than four thousand years before the coming of Christ, the Lord continually concealed the light of his saving doctrine from all the nations. If anyone alleges that he did not make the people of that time participants in so great a blessing because he judged them unworthy of it, their successors were no more worthy. Why, then, did he grant this grace to some rather than to others?
If anyone seeks here a higher reason than God’s secret and hidden counsel, he will torment himself in vain. Nor need we fear that some disciple of Porphyry or other blasphemer will be permitted to slander God’s righteousness merely because we offer no further answer. For when we affirm that no one perishes without deserving it, and that some are delivered from damnation solely by God’s free generosity, that is sufficient to maintain God’s glory without requiring our evasions for its defense.
The Lord therefore executes his predestination by depriving those whom he has rejected of the light of his truth and abandoning them to blindness.
As for the second kind, we experience it daily, and Scripture contains many examples of it. A hundred people may hear the same sermon: twenty will receive it with the obedience of faith, while the others will either disregard it, mock it, reject it, or condemn it. If anyone alleges that this diversity arises from their own wickedness and perversity, that will not suffice. For the same wickedness would possess the minds of them all unless the Lord corrected some by his grace.
Why, then, does he show grace to one while leaving another behind? Saint Luke gives the reason concerning those whom he calls, saying that they had been appointed beforehand to life (Acts 13:48). What, then, shall we think of the others except that they are vessels of his wrath, appointed to dishonor?
Let us therefore not be ashamed to speak with Saint Augustine: “God could certainly turn the will of the wicked toward good, since he is almighty. Of this there is no doubt. Why, then, does he not do so? Because he does not will it. Why he does not will it remains hidden within himself, for we ought not to know more than is fitting.”
This is far better than evading the matter with Chrysostom by saying that God draws the one who calls upon him and stretches out his hand for assistance, so that the difference lies not in God’s judgment but in man’s willingness.
It certainly cannot be doubted that the Lord sends his Word to some whom he knows will thereby be increased in blindness. Why did he send so many messages to Pharaoh? Was it because he hoped to soften his heart by sending one embassy after another? Before he began, he knew what the outcome would be and had foretold it:
“Go,” he said to Moses, “and declare my will to him. But I will harden his heart, so that he will not obey.”
Likewise, when raising up Ezekiel, God warned him that he was sending him to a rebellious and obstinate people, so that he would not be astonished when he found their ears deaf (Ezekiel 3:7–9). He similarly foretold to Jeremiah that his doctrine would be like fire, consuming and scattering the people like straw (Jeremiah 5:14).
But the prophecy in Isaiah presses the matter still more forcefully, for the Lord sends him with this commission:
“Go and say to the children of Israel: ‘Hear continually, but do not understand; see continually, but do not perceive. Harden the heart of this people, stop their ears, and cover their eyes, lest they see, hear, and understand, and be converted and saved.’”
Thus he addresses his Word to them, but in order to make them still more deaf. He kindles the light, but in order to make them still more blind. He presents his doctrine to them, but in order to render them more stupefied. He offers them the remedy, but in order that they should not be healed.
Saint John, citing this prophecy, says that the Jews could not believe Christ’s doctrine because this curse of God rested upon them (John 12:39–40). Nor can it be doubted that when God does not will to enlighten someone, he presents his doctrine to him veiled, so that he will not profit from it but will fall into still greater bewilderment and stupidity. For Christ testifies that he explains to his Apostles alone the parables he had used among the people, because grace was given to the Apostles to know the mysteries of his kingdom, but not to the others (Matthew 13:10–11).
What does the Lord intend when he teaches those from whom he takes care to remain ununderstood? Consider where the fault lies, and the question will cease. For however much obscurity there may be in the doctrine, there is always sufficient light to convict the consciences of the wicked.
Yet it remains to ask why the Lord does this, since it is certain that he does it. If it is answered that he acts in this way because men have deserved it through their perversity and ingratitude, the answer will be true and proper. But since the reason for this diversity does not appear—why he bends some to obedience while causing others to persist in hardness—in order to resolve the matter properly, we must come to what Saint Paul draws from Moses’ testimony:
“For this very purpose I raised you up, that I might display my name throughout all the earth.”
Therefore, when the reprobate do not obey although the kingdom of God is opened to them, this must rightly be attributed to their own perversity and wickedness, provided that we add that they were enslaved to this perversity because, by God’s righteous but incomprehensible judgment, they were raised up to display his glory in their condemnation.
Thus, when it is said of Eli’s sons that they did not heed their father’s saving admonitions because the Lord willed to destroy them, this does not mean that their stubbornness did not arise from their own wickedness. It also explains why they were abandoned to that stubbornness, though God could have softened their hearts: namely, because God’s immutable decree had once for all appointed them to destruction (1 Samuel 2:25).
When the wicked hear this, they complain that God abuses his poor creatures, cruelly making sport of them through an unrestrained exercise of power. But we, who know that men are guilty in so many ways before God’s throne that if he questioned them on a thousand points they could not answer him on one, confess that the reprobate suffer nothing that is not in accordance with his righteous judgment. Since we do not comprehend the reason for it, we must bear this patiently and not refuse to remain ignorant where the wisdom of God raises itself beyond our reach.
But certain passages of Scripture are objected to us in which the Lord appears to deny that the wicked perish by his ordinance, as though they acquired death for themselves by resisting him. We must explain these passages briefly to show that they in no way contradict what has been said.
These declarations of the Apostle are alleged:
“God wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”
Again:
“He has shut up all men under unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all.”
Likewise, the Lord declares through his Prophet:
“I do not will the death of the sinner, but that he should turn and live.”
The first passage from Saint Paul is improperly applied here, for the course of his argument easily shows that he is not speaking of every individual man, but of all ranks and conditions of men. He had commanded Timothy to offer solemn prayers for kings and rulers. Because it might have seemed somewhat strange to pray to God for a class of men regarded as almost beyond hope—since they were not only outside the fellowship of believers but were striving with all their power to oppress Christ’s kingdom—he adds that this is pleasing to God, who wills all men to be saved.
By this he means nothing other than that God has barred no rank of men from the way of salvation, but has spread abroad his mercy in such a manner that he wills all ranks to participate in it.
The other testimonies do not declare what the Lord has determined in his secret judgment, but merely announce that pardon is prepared for all sinners who seek it in true repentance. If anyone insists upon the word all in the statement that God wills to have mercy upon all, I shall reply with the declaration found elsewhere:
“Our God is in heaven, and he does whatever pleases him.”
The former statement must therefore be interpreted consistently with this other declaration:
“I will have mercy upon whom I will have mercy, and I will show compassion to whom I will show compassion.”
Since he chooses those upon whom he will show mercy, he does not show it to all.
But someone will tell me that, if this is so, there will be little certainty in the promises of the gospel, for while they testify concerning God’s will, they would declare that he wills something contrary to what he has secretly determined. I answer that this does not follow. For although the promises of salvation are universal, they do not in any way contradict the predestination of the reprobate, provided that we consider their fulfillment.
We know that God’s promises become effectual for us when we receive them by faith. Conversely, when faith is absent, the promises are of no effect. If this is their nature, let us now consider whether they contradict God’s predestination. It is said that God determined from the beginning whom he would receive into grace and whom he would reject, and yet he promises salvation indiscriminately to all. I say that these things agree perfectly. For in promising salvation in this manner, the Lord means only that his mercy is offered to all who seek it.
Yet no one seeks it except those whom he has enlightened, and he enlightens those whom he has predestined to salvation. These experience the truth of the promises as sure and certain, so that no contradiction can be alleged between God’s eternal election and his offering the testimony of his grace to believers.
Why, then, does he speak of all men? It is so that upright consciences may rest more securely, seeing that there is no distinction between sinners provided that faith is present; and, on the other hand, so that the wicked may not allege that they have no refuge from their misery, since through their ingratitude they reject the refuge offered to them.
Since, therefore, God’s mercy is presented to both through the gospel, it is faith—that is, God’s illumination—which distinguishes between believers and unbelievers, so that the former experience the efficacy of the gospel while the latter receive no benefit from it. And this illumination is governed by God’s eternal election.
We must now address God’s providence, which extends to the government of this whole world. Although, when rightly understood, it contributes wonderfully to strengthening faith, very few properly comprehend or meditate upon it.
Most people imagine in this matter nothing more than God’s bare foreknowledge, never considering that all things are directed by his will and ordinance. Others do attribute some government to him, but only one that is confused and general—namely, that the whole structure of the world, together with all its parts, is sustained and moved by him. But they will not allow that he directs the actions of every individual creature.
They call this universal providence, which, they say, does not prevent creatures from being carried here and there by chance, nor man from turning wherever he pleases by his free will. For they divide the work between God and man in such a way that they suppose God merely inspires man by his power with the ability to move, so that he may do whatever his nature permits, while man meanwhile governs his own actions by his own counsel.
In short, the common opinion is that the world, human affairs, and men themselves are governed by God’s power, but not by a deliberate providence in which he determines everything that is to be done.
I pass over the Epicureans—with whose plague the world has always been filled—who imagine an idle God who concerns himself with nothing. I likewise pass over those no less senseless men who have assigned to God the government only of what lies above the middle region of the air, abandoning everything beneath it to fortune. The creatures themselves loudly and clearly condemn such madness.
As for the opinion I have described concerning God’s universal providence, it is received by almost everyone. Although it possesses some appearance of truth, it is neither true nor tolerable. For since it grants to God only a blind and unconsidered movement, it deprives him of what is most essential: that in wisdom he directs and disposes every individual thing toward its appointed end.
Thus, it makes God the ruler of the world in word only and not in reality, since it denies him definite governance. For what is it to govern except to preside in such a way that the things under one’s authority are directed by order and arrangement?
Indeed, Scripture everywhere displays God’s particular providence so carefully that it is astonishing anyone could ever have doubted it. The Apostle says:
“In him we live and move and have our being.”
Christ likewise testifies:
“My Father works continually, and I work with him.”
Although these statements prove that the Lord works without ceasing in all the works he has created, they refer them merely to universal providence.
But there are clearer testimonies which cannot be evaded by such subterfuges. The Prophet Jeremiah cries:
“I know, O Lord, that the way of man is not within his own power, nor is it in man to direct his steps.”
Likewise, Solomon says:
“A man’s steps are directed by the Lord; how, then, can man understand his own way?”
Let them now say that man is moved by God according to the inclination of his nature, but that he turns the movement wherever he pleases. If this were rightly said, man would possess authority over his own ways. They may perhaps deny this on the ground that he can do nothing without God’s power. But since it is evident that the Prophet and Solomon intended to attribute to God not merely the power to act, but also the choice and providence by which he does everything according to his pleasure, that reply does not resolve the question.
Indeed, Solomon elsewhere expressly reproves the rashness of men who form their plans without regard to God, as though they were not directed by his hand:
“The arrangements of the heart belong to man, but the preparation of the tongue belongs to the Lord.”
It is truly ridiculous madness for men to propose doing without God what they cannot even utter with their mouths unless he pleases.
Furthermore, to express more clearly that absolutely nothing occurs in this world except by God’s ordinance, Scripture expressly subjects to him those events which appear most accidental. For what shall we call more accidental than when a branch falls from a tree upon a passerby and kills him? Yet God speaks very differently, declaring that he delivered the victim into the hands of the one by whom he was killed (Exodus 21:13).
Likewise, who would not attribute the casting of lots to the randomness of fortune? But the Lord does not permit this, for he maintains that the decision belongs to him:
“The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.”
He does not merely say that it is by his power that lots are placed in a container and drawn out. Rather, the very outcome which appeared accidental—whether the lot falls one way or another—he attributes to his providence.
Those who wish to make this doctrine odious slander it as the Stoic paradox that all things occur by necessity. The same reproach was also made against Saint Augustine. As for us, although we are not inclined to dispute over words, we nevertheless do not accept the term employed by the Stoics, namely fate. We reject it both because it belongs to that class of novel expressions which Saint Paul teaches us to avoid, and because our enemies attempt, through hatred of the word, to discredit God’s truth.
As for the Stoic doctrine itself, it is falsely and maliciously attributed to us. For we do not imagine a necessity inherent in nature, arising from the perpetual connection of all things, as the Stoics did. Rather, we establish God as the Master and Governor of all things. We say that from the beginning he determined in his wisdom what he would do, and that he now executes by his power everything he has decreed.
From this we conclude that not only heaven, earth, and all inanimate creatures are governed by his providence, but also the counsels and wills of men, so that he directs them toward the end he has appointed.
“What then?” someone will ask. “Does nothing occur by chance or accident?” I answer that Basil the Great spoke very well when he wrote that fortune and accident are pagan terms whose meaning ought never to enter a believer’s heart. For if all prosperity is God’s blessing and all adversity his curse, no place remains for fortune in anything that happens to men.
Nevertheless, because our weakness sinks beneath the height of God’s providence, I shall introduce a distinction to assist it. We shall therefore say that although all things occur by God’s ordinance, they are nevertheless accidental with respect to us.
This does not mean that we suppose Fortune rules over men, rashly turning all things upside down. Such a fantasy must remain far from a Christian heart. Rather, because the order, reason, end, and necessity of events are most often hidden in God’s counsel and cannot be comprehended by human judgment, those things which we know certainly proceed from God’s will nevertheless appear accidental to us. For they present no other appearance when considered in their own nature or judged according to our knowledge and understanding.
For example, suppose a merchant enters a forest with good and trustworthy companions, wanders from the path, and by his error falls among robbers who cut his throat. His death was not merely foreseen by God, but decreed by his will. For Scripture does not merely say that God foresaw how long each person’s life would extend, but that he appointed and fixed its boundaries:
“Man’s days are determined, and the number of his months is with you; you have appointed his limits, which he cannot pass.”
Nevertheless, so far as our understanding can perceive, everything connected with such a death appears accidental. What, then, will a Christian think? Certainly, he will regard it as accidental according to its outward nature, yet he will not doubt that God’s providence presided over it and directed what appeared to be chance toward its appointed end.
The same principle applies to future events. Since all things to come are uncertain to us, we hold them in suspense, as though they might occur in one way or another. Nevertheless, this remains settled in our hearts: nothing will happen that God has not ordained.
Therefore, in considering God’s providence, we must beware of falling into the many fantasies of certain fools who babble about it in such a way that they confound heaven and earth. They reason as follows: If God has marked the moment of our death, we cannot escape it; therefore, every effort to protect ourselves is useless.
Some people will not dare to travel when they hear there is danger of being murdered by robbers. Some summon physicians and employ medicines during illness. Others abstain from heavy foods in order to preserve their health. Others fear to live in houses that are in danger of collapsing. In general, everyone seeks means by which to attain his purposes. These fools argue that either all such things are frivolous remedies by which men attempt to correct God’s will, or else not everything happens by his will and ordinance.
For, they say, these two statements are incompatible: that life and death, health and sickness, peace and war, wealth and poverty come from God; and that by their own diligence men avoid or obtain these things according as they hate or desire them.
Furthermore, they say that the prayers of believers are not only superfluous but perverse, since by them believers ask God to provide for matters which he has already determined from eternity. In short, they abolish all deliberation concerning future things as contrary to God’s providence, which once for all determined what it willed to be done without calling us into counsel.
Moreover, they attribute everything that happens to God’s providence in such a way that they pay no regard to the man who committed the deed in question. If some villain murders a good man, they say that he has executed God’s counsel. If someone steals or commits adultery, they call him the minister of God’s providence because he has done what God foresaw. If a son allows his father to die without assisting him, they say that he could not resist God, who had so ordained it. Thus they turn every vice into a virtue because it serves God’s ordinance.
As for future events, Solomon easily reconciles the deliberations men undertake concerning them with God’s providence. For just as he mocks the presumption of those who boldly undertake without God whatever enters their imagination, as though they were not governed by his hand, so elsewhere he speaks in this manner:
“The heart of man ought to consider his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”
By this he signifies that God’s eternal decree does not prevent us from providing for ourselves under his good will and ordering our affairs. The reason is evident. For he who has set the limits of our life has also entrusted its care to us, given us the means to preserve it, enabled us to foresee dangers so that they might not take us by surprise, and provided remedies by which we may resist them.