Objections

The following argument arises: if vices and virtues do not emanate from free choice, it becomes improper to reward or punish individuals. Though this notion originates from Aristotle, I acknowledge that St. Chrysostom and St. Jerome also touch upon this topic. St. Jerome openly admits that this line of thought was favored by the Pelagians. They attributed these words to them: "If the grace of God works within us, it's that grace which should be rewarded, not us, who are not working." As for God's retribution for transgressions, I respond that we justly merit such punishments due to our responsibility for sin. It matters not whether we sin through free or bound judgment, as long as it arises from voluntary passion. Especially since one is deemed a sinner due to the bondage of sin. Regarding the reward for virtuous deeds, how nonsensical it is to confess that it is bestowed upon us by God's benevolence rather than being wages earned through our merits. St. Augustine frequently reiterates this sentiment: "God crowns not our merits, but His gifts. The reward bestowed upon us isn't so named because it's owed to our merits, but because it is rendered in compensation for the graces previously granted." Concerning the notion that merits can only stem from a person's own capacity for good works, this notion is misplaced. The Apostle refutes this erroneous notion; he states that blessedness and the eternal glory we anticipate arise from the Lord's mercy, election, calling, and justification. He declares: "Those whom God has chosen, He has called; those whom He has called, He has justified; those whom He has justified, He has glorified" (Rom. 8:30).

So why then are the faithful rewarded? As per the Apostle's explanation, it's due to the Lord's mercy, not their own deeds. Therefore, let this unfounded apprehension dissipate, which asserts that merit vanishes without upholding free choice. It's absurd to flee from a notion that scripture guides us towards. St. Paul cautions: "If you have received everything, why boast as though you have not received it?" (1 Cor. 4:7). His intent is clear—to eradicate the notion of free choice and diminish all merits. Nevertheless, God, abounding in benevolence, rewards the graces He's bestowed upon us as if they were virtues stemming from us.

Another objection surfaces, seemingly attributed to St. Chrysostom: "If choosing good and evil wasn't within our power, everyone would either be virtuous or wicked, for they share the same nature." This sentiment aligns with the assertion from the book "On the Calling of the Gentiles," often attributed to St. Ambrose. It posits that no one would stray from faith if God's grace didn't render human will mutable. I'm taken aback by how these esteemed figures have been led astray. How could Chrysostom overlook the factor of God's election that differentiates among individuals? It's crucial to acknowledge that God's choice sets people apart. We needn't hesitate to confess what St. Paul affirms with certainty: "All are corrupt and given over to wickedness." Yet, concurrently, we concur with him that God's mercy aids some so that not all remain in corruption. Since we all suffer from the same ailment, only those for whom God deems a remedy necessary can escape. Those forsaken by God's just judgment remain in their depravity until consumed. The reason why some persist while others falter derives from the same source. Perseverance itself is God's gift, not bestowed indiscriminately but granted to whom He pleases. To inquire about the rationale behind this discrepancy, why some persist while others waver, is to encounter the simple answer: those enduring are upheld by God's might to prevent their demise, while the latter lack this strength, serving as an example of human fickleness.

Furthermore, another argument arises: "Exhortations and admonitions are in vain, and reprimands are futile if sinners lack the ability to obey them." When these objections confronted St. Augustine, he was compelled to write a book titled "On Rebuke and Grace." Though he addressed the matter comprehensively, he ultimately encapsulates it as follows: "O man, recognize your duties from what's commanded, realize your shortcomings from what you're reprimanded for not doing, and acknowledge from whom to seek what you require when you pray to God." We're not alone in advocating this stance; Christ and His apostles share it. Therefore, our opponents should tread carefully when opposing such formidable adversaries. Even though Christ affirms that "without Him, we can do nothing" (John 15:5), He continues to reprove those outside Him for wrongdoing and exhorts each individual to virtuous deeds. St. Paul, sharply reproaching the Corinthians for their lack of charity, subsequently petitions God to grant them love. He attests to the Romans that righteousness is not within a person's will or effort but arises from God's mercy. Yet, he persistently admonishes, exhorts, and reforms them. Why, then, do these objectors not plead with the Lord: "Do not exert Your efforts in vain, seeking from humans what only You can bestow, and reprimanding them for their failings due to the absence of Your grace?" Are they not admonishing St. Paul to pardon those who lack the power to will or accomplish good, except through God's mercy, which eludes them when they falter? However, this folly is baseless, as God's teaching is founded on sound reasoning and thorough contemplation.

Indeed, St. Paul indicates that teaching, exhortations, and reprimands alone have limited power to transform the heart. He asserts that "the one who plants is nothing, and the one who waters is nothing, but all effectiveness comes from the Lord, who gives the growth" (1 Cor. 3:7). "Then what purpose do exhortations serve?" one might ask. If these exhortations are disregarded by a stubborn heart, they stand as witnesses against that individual, serving as evidence during divine judgment. Even a troubled conscience is stirred and compelled in this life; though it may mock these exhortations, it cannot condemn them. If someone argues, "What recourse does the unfortunate sinner have when the required disposition of heart to obey is denied to them?" I reply: How can they equivocate when they are solely responsible for their hardheartedness? Therefore, even though the wicked wish God's precepts and warnings were illusions (if that were possible), they're compelled by the efficacy of these teachings and admonitions, regardless of their inclination. The primary utility of precepts and warnings should be regarded as valuable for the faithful. Although the Lord accomplishes everything through His Spirit, He employs the instrument of His word to effect His work within them, using it as a potent tool. When it's established, as it should be, that the power of the righteous resides in God's grace, someone might inquire: "Why are they encouraged to fulfill their duty instead of being solely guided by the Holy Spirit? Why are they impelled by exhortations, when they cannot move faster than the Spirit propels them? Why are they corrected when they stumble, considering they necessarily faltered due to the frailty of their flesh?" The answer is this: Who are you to impose laws upon God? If God wishes to prepare us through exhortation to receive the grace needed to heed His exhortation, what grounds do you have to reprove or critique this order and manner? Even if exhortations solely serve to incriminate the faithful of their sins, they should not be dismissed as worthless. These exhortations possess great value in kindling love for righteousness within the heart and cultivating a distaste for sin. As the Holy Spirit utilizes this external instrument for the salvation of individuals, who would dare dismiss these exhortations as superfluous?

Should anyone seek a clearer response, I shall succinctly provide the conclusion. God operates within us twofold: inwardly through His Spirit, and outwardly through His Word. Through His Spirit, illuminating the intellect and cultivating hearts with love for righteousness and innocence, He rejuvenates individuals into new beings. Through His Word, He stirs and motivates people to yearn for and seek this renewal. In both ways, His mighty hand is evident, as He deems appropriate. Even when He directs His Word to the wicked and disheartened, though it might not lead them to reform, it serves a purpose. Presently, it presses on their consciences, and on the day of judgment, they shall possess fewer excuses.

Endeavoring to overcome us with a multitude of texts if they cannot surpass us in quality, these individuals diligently gather numerous scriptural testimonies. It's akin to a commander assembling a host unprepared for battle, seeking to intimidate the adversary. They make a grand display before being set in action; yet, when combat ensues, they scatter at the first challenge. Thus, dismantling these objections, which are mere spectacle and vanity, shall prove straightforward. These objections can be categorized, and once categorized, a comprehensive response will satisfactorily address numerous instances. There's no need to individually address each one. Constructing an extensive chain of God's precepts, they gauge human capability. They reason: "Either God jests when commanding virtues like holiness, piety, obedience, chastity, love, and kindness, or He merely requires what's within our power." However, these amassed precepts fall into three categories: some encourage turning towards God, others promote adherence to the law, and some encourage perseverance in received grace.

Let us address these categories collectively before considering specifics. I concede that the practice of measuring human capabilities by divine commands has historical precedence, seemingly reasonable at first glance. Nevertheless, this perspective originates from profound ignorance. Those aiming to disprove the feasibility of these commandments if human adherence is impossible present a feeble argument. They claim that otherwise, the law would be given in vain. Yet, St. Paul addresses this matter directly. I ask, what do these statements signify? "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more" (Romans 5:20). "Through the law we become conscious of our sin" (Romans 3:20). The law engenders sin; it multiplies transgressions (Romans 7:8). These passages do not suggest that the law must be proportionate to our abilities to avoid being futile. St. Paul uses these passages to demonstrate that God commands what exceeds our capacity to reveal our inherent powerlessness.

If Scripture solely affirmed the law as the standard for life, measuring our actions, I would readily concur. Yet, since Scripture expounds multiple uses for itself, we should adhere to this interpretation rather than personal conjecture. While the law prescribes our obligations, it simultaneously emphasizes that the ability to obey emanates from God's grace. Thus, it teaches us to seek grace through prayer. The presence of promises alongside commandments underscores our reliance on God's assistance. These promises reveal that our power originates solely from His grace, unequivocally underscoring not only our insufficiency but our complete incapacity to fulfill the law. Let us not linger on the proportion between our strength and God's commandments, as if God tailored the righteousness He imparted according to our limitations. Instead, let the promises remind us of our inadequacy, highlighting our constant need for His grace.

They inquire, "To whom did God direct His law? Do you mean to suggest it was to inanimate objects like wood and stones?" I answer, none contend such a notion, as the wicked are neither wood nor stones. Upon encountering God's law, they, conscious of their concupiscence's defiance against God, bear guilt in their consciences. Likewise, when the faithful are alerted to their fragility, they seek refuge in God's grace. What of the words of St. Augustine: "God commands what we cannot achieve so that we recognize what we should seek from Him." And, "Precepts are incredibly useful if they honor God's grace." And, "Faith obtains what the law commands." "God demands faith from us and doesn't find what He seeks unless He's already placed it within us." "May God grant what He commands and command what He wills."

Our argument gains clarity when examining these three categories of commandments. Throughout His law and prophetic writings, the Lord frequently urges us to turn to Him. However, the prophets respond from a different angle: "Turn me back, O Lord, and I shall be turned. For after You have turned me, I repented" (Jeremiah 31:18). He commands the circumcision of hearts (Jeremiah 4:4), yet Moses testifies that He personally performs this circumcision (Deuteronomy 30:6). Repeatedly, He enjoins people to obtain new hearts, while testifying that He alone renews the heart (Ezekiel 11:19; 36:26; Jeremiah 31:33). Thus, what shall those who quote God's precepts to extol human ability, constraining God's grace that enables command fulfillment, assert now?

The second category involves straightforward precepts: to honor God, follow His will, observe His commandments, and heed His teachings. Countless testimonies highlight that all righteousness, holiness, piety, and purity are gratuitous gifts from God.

The third category presents itself in St. Paul and St. Barnabas' exhortation to remain steadfast in God's grace (Acts 13:43). Elsewhere, St. Paul underscores the source of this strength, admonishing: "Finally, be strong in the Lord" (Ephesians 6:10). He also cautions against grieving the Holy Spirit, in whom we're sealed for the day of redemption (Ephesians 4:30). Yet, what he commands elsewhere, he implores of the Lord through prayer, acknowledging its lack within human power. He beseeches the Lord to make the Thessalonians worthy of His calling and to fulfill His good intentions in them (2 Thessalonians 1:11). Certain individuals, fervently adhering to their misguided beliefs, challenge these testimonies. They argue that these testimonies do not negate the possibility of uniting human effort with God's grace to alleviate our weaknesses. They present passages from the prophets where God seemingly divides the responsibility for conversion between Himself and us, as seen in, "Return to Me, and I will return to you" (Zechariah 1:3; Malachi 3:7). We've previously addressed the help provided by God, and revisiting this matter within this context would be redundant.

The focus here is to reveal the futility of attributing to individuals the ability to fulfill the law merely because God mandates obedience. It is evident that God's grace is indispensable to accomplish His commands, and it is promised for this very purpose. As for the previously mentioned passage, it doesn't substantiate their misconception. God's "returning" does not denote the grace renewing our hearts for righteous living; rather, it signifies His benevolence and love, expressing prosperity and confirming that, by returning to a righteous life, we draw near to Him, who embodies righteousness. Therefore, it is misguided to distort this passage to contend that our conversion is divided between God and us. This issue requires a more in-depth examination, which we shall undertake in the chapter addressing the law.

The second cluster of arguments bears resemblance to the first. They bring forth promises that seemingly imply God's accord with our will. These passages include: "Seek righteousness, not wickedness, and you shall live" (Amos 5:14); "If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword" (Isaiah 1:19–20); "If you return, O Israel, declares the Lord, to me you should return" (Jeremiah 4:1); "If you faithfully obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all His commandments... you shall be blessed in the city and blessed in the field" (Deuteronomy 28:1; Leviticus 26:3), and others akin to these. Their argument suggests that God would jest if these were referred to our will without being achievable. Their point carries an air of courteous compassion. One could deduce: "It would be unjust for God to suggest that our position in His grace depends solely on us to receive all goodness from Him when we lack the power to do so. Presenting unattainable blessings in this manner would render His promises nonsensical." In essence, one might claim that God's promises lack credibility if they hinge on an impossibility.

Concerning promises linked to unattainable conditions, their treatment shall come later, revealing that despite impossibility, no absurdity exists.

In the context at hand, I reject the notion that the Lord displays cruelty or inhumanity by urging us to merit His graces and blessings, knowing we lack the capacity to do so. The promises extend to both the faithful and the errant, benefiting both parties. As the Lord's precepts prod and stir the consciences of the wicked, preventing them from dismissing His judgment carelessly, promises to them underline their unworthiness of His benevolence. Is it not fitting for God to reward those who honor Him and chastise those who belittle His majesty? Thus, God rightfully presents these conditions to the wicked, captivated by sin's yoke. When they forsake their sinful ways, He promises to bestow blessings. Even if this were the sole rationale, God acts to illustrate that the wicked must be excluded from the blessings destined for His servants. Moreover, in inciting His faithful to earnestly seek His grace, it is unsurprising if He employs the same approach in His promises as previously demonstrated in His commandments. While His precepts inform us of His will, exposing our imperfections, and urging us to implore His Spirit to guide us, these promises, through their gentleness, kindle love for His commands. The more our hearts embrace righteousness, the more fervent our pursuit of God's grace. Thus, through the cited declarations, God neither attributes to us the ability to accomplish what He states nor derides our frailty. Rather, these declarations benefit His servants and remove excuses from the wicked.

Their third group of arguments possesses some parallels to the previous ones. They present passages where God conveys to the people of Israel that their circumstances rely solely on their choices. For instance, He stated: "The Amalekites and Canaanites are right in front of you, and you will die by their swords since you've turned away from the Lord" (Numbers 14:43). Also, "Because I called and you did not answer, I will destroy you just as I did Shiloh" (Jeremiah 7:13–14). Furthermore, "This people has not obeyed the voice of their God or received discipline. Truth has perished; it is cut off from their lips" (Jeremiah 7:28–29). Lastly, "You have done worse than your fathers, each one of you following his stubborn, evil will, refusing to obey Me. So I will hurl you out of this land into a land that you do not know" (Jeremiah 16:12–13). They ask: "How are these accusations relevant to those who could respond, 'We desired prosperity and feared adversity. The reason we did not obey the Lord or heed His voice to evade misfortune and attain blessings is our captivity in sin. It's unjust for God to accuse us of the misfortunes we suffer, misfortunes beyond our control!'" Setting aside this trivial and baseless excuse of necessity, can they absolve themselves of wrongdoing? If they admit their failings, God's assertion that their lack of prosperity results from their perversity is not without cause. Allow me to question further: can they deny that their corrupt will is the source of their transgressions? If they acknowledge this internal origin of evil, why do they seek external causes, attempting to deflect responsibility, pretending to be innocent of their own destruction?

Should it indeed hold true that sinners, through their own iniquity, are stripped of God's blessings and subjected to His retribution, then it follows that these accusations rightly find their place. By such reproaches, should they persist in their wickedness, they might learn to attribute their misery to their transgressions rather than leveling blame at God's alleged severity. If not entirely hardened, and should they foster a teachable spirit within, may they recognize the blemish of their sins as the root cause of their adversity. Thus, moved by displeasure and disdain for their transgressions, they could retrace their steps onto the path of goodness. This would entail acknowledging God's rebuke as truthful and reliable. The faithful can glean from Daniel's prayer that such dialogues effectively served this purpose (Daniel 9:4ff). The first beneficial outcome can be witnessed among the Jews. Compliant with God's command, Jeremiah revealed to them the source of their distress (Jeremiah 7:13). However, let us remember that nothing occurs without God's prior declaration. His foretelling of conveying His message, which they would disregard, and summoning them, which they would ignore, holds true (Jeremiah 7:27–28). A counterargument might arise: "What purpose lies in addressing the deaf?" The purpose is to ensure that, despite their delusion, they realize the veracity. It is heinous sacrilege to fault God for calamities originating within them. By employing these three approaches, the ceaseless array of testimonies the opponents of God's grace gather from the commandments, promises, and admonishments to sinners becomes manageable. These adversaries, striving to establish the concept of free will within humanity—a concept unattainable—can be countered through these conclusions.

Yet, these individuals assert a testimony from Moses' law that seems to contradict our earlier deduction. After promulgating the law, Moses affirmed before the people, "For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off... But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it" (Deuteronomy 30:11, 14). If these words were aimed solely at the commandments, I acknowledge it would pose a challenge to counter. While one could argue that these words pertain to the ability to comprehend the commandments rather than execute them, reservations persist. However, we possess a sound interpreter who eradicates all ambiguity—namely, St. Paul. He expounds that Moses referred to the teachings of the gospel (Romans 10:6–8). Should an obstinate individual claim that St. Paul distorted the passage's natural meaning to align it with the gospel (an assertion unworthy of tolerance), we can defend the apostle's exposition. If Moses exclusively referred to commandments, he would deceive the people with false confidence. What could they do other than bring about their own demise if they attempted to adhere to the law using their own strength, deeming it facile? In the context of human nature's inherent frailty and our susceptibility to falter, where do we find the capacity to uphold the law? It becomes increasingly evident that Moses understood these words in light of the covenant of mercy he established through the law. Pondering the salvation offered through the gospel, Moses visualized an alternative to the rigorous, arduous, even unattainable conditions the law imposed. St. Paul, therefore, employs this testimony to underscore God's merciful offering, rendering this testament inadequate to substantiate the notion of human free will.

Additional passages are often cited, illustrating instances when God temporarily withholds His grace to assess the direction individuals choose. For example, Hosea declares: "I will return again to my place, until they acknowledge their guilt and seek my face" (Hosea 5:15). They contend, "It would be absurd for the Lord to contemplate humanity's course of action unless their hearts possessed the capacity to incline, propelled by their own volition." Such a notion overlooks the fact that through His prophets, God frequently declares that He will cast out His people and forsake them until they rectify their ways. Let us scrutinize the argument they wish to present. Should they assert that people, abandoned by God, can rectify themselves, all of scripture contradicts them. Should they concede that God's grace is essential for a person's conversion, these passages fail to serve their purpose against us. However, they may maintain that they accept the necessity of grace in conjunction with human capacity. Their proof, however, is not derived from these passages or their equivalents. These passages address two distinctly separate matters: temporarily withdrawing divine grace to observe their subsequent actions, and supporting human weakness to bolster its limited strength.

In response to their inquiry, "What do such modes of expression signify?" Let me elucidate: they hold as much weight as if God conveyed, "Given that this obstinate populace remains unresponsive to my counsel, exhortations, and reproofs, I shall momentarily withdraw. During my silence, I shall allow affliction to befall them. Thus, I shall discern whether, after enduring prolonged tribulation, they will recall me and earnestly seek my presence." Understand that when it is said God "withdraws," it denotes the removal of His divine word. When it is stated that He "observes" their actions during His absence, it signifies that He afflicts them without manifesting His presence. This twofold approach serves to humble us. Left unchecked, His chastisements and penalties would lead to our utter destruction instead of rectification, were it not for His Spirit rendering us receptive to instruction. Thus, the inference that a person possesses the ability to turn to God, based on the notion that God, offended by our stubborn hearts, withholds His word through which He communicates His presence, and watches our actions in His absence, is unfounded. These actions solely aim to reveal that our capacity is nonexistent.

Another argument arises from the common parlance employed not only by individuals but also within scripture. Good deeds are referred to as "ours," and we are said to "do good," just as we "do evil." They contend, "If sins are correctly attributed to us as originating from us, the same reasoning mandates that we be credited for good deeds. It is illogical to claim that, since we cannot accomplish them through our own agency, we act as lifeless stones manipulated by God's influence in our endeavors." Consequently, they conclude, "While God's grace remains the principal force, such forms of speech suggest that we possess inherent capacity for goodness." Confronted solely with the initial objection—namely, that good deeds are attributed to us—I would respond thus: daily sustenance, the bread we beseech God to bestow upon us, we term as "ours" (Matthew 6:11; Luke 11:3). This term can be interpreted only to imply that what is unearned becomes ours through God's boundless benevolence. Hence, they must either censure our Lord for employing such phrases or relinquish their surprise at labeling good works as "ours," despite our minimal contribution solely facilitated by God's generosity.

However, their subsequent argument warrants more consideration. They contend, "Scripture frequently affirms that the faithful serve God, uphold His righteousness, adhere to His law, and dedicate themselves to goodness. As these actions are inherent responsibilities of human intellect and will, how can we attribute such qualities to both God's Spirit and ourselves, unless there exists a connection between our capacity and God's grace?" To effectively counter these arguments, we must accurately comprehend the manner in which God operates within His servants. Primarily, their chosen metaphor lacks applicability. Who could entertain the notion that humans are propelled by God in the same manner one hurls a stone? This sentiment fails to align with our doctrine. We assert the existence of a natural human capability to approve, reject, desire, abstain, endeavor, and resist—namely, to approve futility, reject authentic goodness, desire malevolence, abstain from desiring good, strive to embrace sin, and resist righteousness. To what extent is the Lord implicated in these actions? Should He utilize human waywardness as an instrument of His wrath, He molds and guides it according to His will, manipulating a wicked hand to execute His righteous and benevolent works. Thus, should we regard a wicked individual who serves God in this capacity, despite intending to indulge in wickedness, as analogous to a motionless stone? The disparities between these concepts are undeniable.

Our contemplation then shifts to the virtuous individuals, who merit deeper examination. When the Lord aspires to establish His realm within them, He restrains and governs their volition to prevent it from yielding to unruly impulses. This contravenes their inherent inclinations. Simultaneously, He molds their volition, channels and steers it according to the compass of His righteousness, prompting a yearning for sanctity and purity. Ultimately, He reinforces and fortifies their volition through the potency of His Spirit, ensuring steadfastness and resilience. This intricate process demonstrates that God's grace functions akin to a guide and a bridle for the human will, steering and governing it. To govern the will necessitates correction, reform, and rejuvenation. This conveys that the inception of our rebirth involves the eradication of our natural inclinations. Furthermore, rectifying the will necessitates guiding, inciting, directing, and sustaining it. Therefore, we assert that all deeds emanating from the will originate exclusively from Him. Yet, we do not negate the wisdom conveyed by St. Augustine: "God's grace does not obliterate our will but rather restores it." These sentiments harmonize perfectly. To affirm that the human will is restored implies that it is recalibrated, shifted towards the compass of righteousness after its inherent iniquity is rectified. It is then that it is directed toward goodness and purity. This restoration spawns a new will within the individual, as the inherent will is so profoundly tainted that complete renewal becomes imperative. Concluding, we find no hindrance to asserting that the works wrought by God's Spirit within us are the same works that we enact, despite not actively cooperating with His grace using our inherent strength. The rationale is twofold. Firstly, all that God performs within us, He desires to be inherently ours, albeit with the understanding that it is not a result of our doing. Secondly, our inherent intellect, volition, and determination are guided towards goodness and utilized for noble purposes, a trait inherited from our natural disposition.

Other contentions they draw from diverse sources may not perturb those of discerning judgment, particularly if the previously provided solutions to these quandaries are well-remembered. They reference a passage from Genesis: "Your desire will be under you, and you will rule over it" (Genesis 4:7), interpreting it in relation to sin. They propose that God promised Cain the authority to subdue sin within his heart, provided he exhibited the will to conquer it. Conversely, we might assert that this assertion more fittingly applies to Abel. In this context, God seeks to reprimand the hatred that Cain harbored for his brother—a sentiment fueled by two factors. Initially, Cain deluded himself into aspiring for a loftier station before God than his brother, disregarding that God esteems only righteousness and integrity. Subsequently, he manifested ingratitude for the blessings bestowed by God, to the extent that he bore animosity towards his brother—a brother entrusted to his care. However, for the sake of impartiality and to avoid the appearance of evading opposing interpretations, let us concede that God refers to sin. In that case, the premise remains unchanged: God's address constitutes an exhortation to Cain, delineating his duty rather than his capacity, even if he finds it unattainable. They further fortify their standpoint with the apostle's declaration that "salvation is not in the hand of the one who wills or the one who runs but in God's mercy" (Romans 9:16). Hence, they deduce the existence of a human will and endeavor in conjunction with God's mercy. Yet, were they to thoughtfully contemplate the context of this passage, their facile application of its concepts would subside. I acknowledge their possible reliance on Origen and St. Jerome to validate their interpretation. Nevertheless, the focus should be on comprehending St. Paul's intended message: that salvation exclusively emanates from God's mercy. Destruction and chaos await those bypassed by His election. This notion finds illustration through the story of Pharaoh, a symbol of the rejected (Romans 9:17). St. Paul also underscores the unwavering and gratuitous election of the faithful using Moses' testimony, "I will have compassion on the one whom I have received in mercy." Consequently, he concludes that salvation hinges not on human volition or effort, but solely on God's mercy (Romans 9:15ff). Any attempt to construe these words as indicative of inherent human capacity is flawed and foolish. Therefore, we must dismiss this illogical sophistry.

The rationale behind declaring, "Salvation is not in the hand of the one willing or running," in order to advocate the presence of a will and activity, lacks coherence. St. Paul's assertion is more straightforward: salvation is not achieved through human will or effort, but solely through the realm of mercy (Romans 9:16). This principle mirrors St. Paul's sentiment in a different passage, where he asserts, "God's kindness and love toward humanity manifested not through deeds of righteousness which we pursued, but through His boundless mercy" (Titus 3:4-5). Were I to argue that we indeed perform good deeds based on this premise, negating St. Paul's statement that God's grace does not emerge from deeds of righteousness, they would undoubtedly dismiss my contention. Their current argument parallels this approach. Thus, they must carefully contemplate their assertions, refraining from reliance on such baseless reasoning.

Subsequently, they invoke the testimony of Ecclesiasticus, an author whose authority is contested. However, even if we concede this point, its inclusion offers no validation for their argument. Ecclesiasticus contends that "after his creation, man was left to his own will. God imparted commandments, and by obeying them, man would safeguard himself. Life and death, good and evil, were presented, allowing man to choose as he pleased" (Ecclesiasticus 15:14ff). According to this account, humanity possessed the ability to select either life or death at its inception. What if we postulate that this capacity was subsequently lost? I am not interested in contradicting Solomon, who affirms that "humans were created virtuous from the outset and subsequently succumbed to iniquity" (Ecclesiastes 7:29). Consequently, as humanity deviated from its original state and strayed from God, its inherent goodness deteriorated alongside all other virtues. Any references to humanity's primordial creation should not be applied to its current state, marred by imperfection and corruption. Hence, I counter both our adversaries and Ecclesiasticus, whoever the author may be, in the following manner: should you intend to instruct individuals to seek within themselves the capacity for salvation, your authority is insufficient to undermine the Word of God, which undeniably contradicts your premise. Should your purpose be solely to rebuke the flesh's blasphemy—given its inclination to attribute its vices to God, thereby absolving itself—by showcasing humanity's virtuous origin and its subsequent downfall, I am inclined to accept this notion. However, we must mutually agree that humanity, in its current state, has been stripped of the adornments and graces initially bestowed by God.

One recurring point of contention our adversaries present is the parable of the compassionate Samaritan, where a man left half-dead on the road serves as a metaphor for the human condition (Luke 10:30-35). Admittedly, it's a common interpretation that this man symbolizes humanity's plight. From this, they deduce a particular argument: humanity wasn't utterly incapacitated by sin and the devil, as indicated by the man's partial vitality. Their assertion claims that within the depths of our struggle, some semblance of understanding and will remains intact. However, should I choose to disregard their allegorical approach, what course of action could they possibly pursue? It's undeniable that the early Church fathers adhered to a literal and straightforward interpretation of this passage. Allegorical interpretations ought to be accepted only insofar as they derive from Scripture itself, and even then, they hold no weight in establishing doctrinal truths. Furthermore, we possess ample reasons to refute their contentions. Scripture itself dismisses the notion of a half-life for humanity, asserting instead that in matters concerning genuine and eternal felicity, we are utterly lifeless. St. Paul, when discussing our redemption, doesn't attest to healing us from partial death; rather, he proclaims our resurrection from death itself (Ephesians 2:5). He summons not those who are partially alive to embrace Christ's grace, but those who are deceased and interred. This aligns with the Lord's declaration: "The hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live" (John 5:25). Do they not find it disconcerting to pit their allegorical interpretations, no matter how illuminating, against an array of abundant and unequivocal testimonies?

Yet, even if we were to entertain their allegory as valid, what conclusion could they conceivably draw against us? Their argument posits that humanity is partially alive, thus implying the preservation of some form of vitality. I concede that the human soul possesses the capacity for understanding, although this comprehension might not reach the celestial wisdom of God. Judgment regarding good and evil resides within us, and an inkling of awareness concerning God's existence may exist, albeit without attaining accurate knowledge. Nevertheless, what substantial impact do these observations exert? Regrettably, they fall short of nullifying the sagacious words of St. Augustine: "The gratuitous gifts essential to salvation were forfeited after humanity's fall; the inherent qualities incapable of leading to salvation were tainted and besmirched." Consequently, St. Augustine's assertion remains impervious: the human intellect is so profoundly alienated from God's righteousness that it can fathom, conceive, or apprehend nothing beyond wickedness, sin, and corruption. Similarly, the human heart is irreparably tainted by sin, rendering it the progenitor of all things corrupt. Even if certain actions may appear virtuous, the intellect invariably remains entangled in hypocrisy and vanity, and the heart persistently indulges in malevolence.

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Man's Fallen Condition: Free or Bound?, by John Calvin, Copyright © 2024

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