IS “PASSING OVER” AN ACTIVE CHOICE BY GOD?
Within the Calvinist system itself:
It is a sovereign decision that is part of God’s eternal decree, but Reformed theologians deliberately describe it as passive / negative rather than active in the same way election is active.
ELECTION
Equels
God positively acts (chooses, regenerates, grants faith).
PASSING OVER / REPROBATION
Equels
God withholds that positive action and leaves the person in their fallen state.
So Calvinists say it is not “as active” as election.
I disagree, under exhaustive sovereignty, the decision not to elect is still a deliberate, decisive choice by God. Calling it “passing over” changes the verb but does not remove the determination. In that sense, yes — it is still an active choice of the decree, even if executed by omission.
IS COMPATIBILISM DETERMINISTIC?
Yes.
Compatibilism is a form of determinism (specifically soft determinism). It affirms that every event, including every human choice, is determined by prior causes (ultimately God’s decree). It simply defines “freedom” as acting according to one’s own desires/nature without external coercion. John Hendryx’s statement is accurate: compatibilism is no less deterministic than hard determinism; the difference lies only in whether that determinism is considered compatible with moral responsibility.
Bottom line in the MacArthur / Reformed framework:
- God’s decree determines both the salvation of the elect and the non-salvation of the reprobate. The elect are saved by God’s active, effectual intervention; the non-elect are left in their sin by God’s sovereign decision to pass them over. Compatibilism is the philosophical tool that allows Calvinists to call both outcomes determined while still affirming that people make real, responsible choices according to their natures.
“Does calvinism leave room for genuine choice?” but “If exhaustive divine determinism determines our beliefs and reasoning, what grounds do we have for trusting the theological conclusions we reach—including Calvinism itself?”
JOHNNY MAC’s TRANSCRIPT
You say, well, in a world of multiple religions, how can there only be two choices? Because you either choose the way that leads to heaven or you choose a way that does not. And while there may be varieties of that, it’s the same thing. It ends up in the same place. There really are only two religions in the world. There is the religion of human achievement, and that’s all religion in the world that offers heaven for good works, morality, religious ceremonies, rituals. On the other hand, there’s the religion of divine accomplishment which offers heaven to those who admit there is nothing they can do to earn it. One comes the way of works and flesh and merit and ceremony and ritual and ends up in hell, whatever its label. And the true way is by faith and grace and the Holy Spirit. The first way involves what we do and the true way involves what God did.
The Free-Thinking Argument is especially useful here because it explicitly applies the problem to exhaustive divine determinism. (PDF)
MacArthur’s distinction between the “religion of human achievement” and the “religion of divine accomplishment” sounds compelling, but it creates a problem for his own theology. No one who believes salvation is by grace through faith is claiming that a person’s decision to trust Christ is a meritorious contribution to Christ’s saving work.
- Faith does not compete with divine accomplishment.
- Christ accomplishes salvation;
- faith receives what Christ has accomplished.
The person who trusts Christ is not saying, “I helped save myself.” He is saying, “I could not save myself; I am trusting the One who did.” To equate the exercise of faith with “human achievement” is therefore a category error. The disagreement is not over whether salvation is God’s accomplishment. It is over whether God must first determine the individual’s response in order for that response to be genuine faith.
The deeper problem arises when MacArthur’s “two religions” argument is placed alongside his Calvinistic doctrine of sovereign determination. If God unconditionally determines who will be saved, and effectually gives the elect the faith and repentance necessary for salvation, then the elect do not independently determine that outcome. Their faith is the result of God’s prior determination, not the cause of it. But the same logic necessarily applies to those who remain lost. If God sovereignly chooses not to give them that saving grace—what Calvinists call “passing over”—then their unbelief and eventual condemnation are likewise the inevitable result of God’s sovereign decision.
Calling one side “active election” and the other “passive passing over” does not remove the divine determination from the second side. It changes the description of how God brings about the two outcomes, but it does not change the fact that both outcomes are ultimately grounded in God’s decree. As George Bryson documents, even the Reformed distinction between a “positive” decree and a “negative” decree leaves reprobation ultimately connected to the divine decree.
This makes MacArthur’s “Make your choice” language particularly difficult. The issue is not whether people make choices—they obviously do. The issue is whether they ultimately determine which choice they will make. Calvinistic compatibilism answers that the person makes a real choice, but that choice is itself determined by God’s sovereign decree and the person’s God-determined nature and desires. That may be called “freedom” within a compatibilist framework, but it is not self-determination in the ordinary sense. And this is where MacArthur’s own argument about evil becomes relevant. MacArthur has argued that if God is the primary cause and human beings are merely secondary causes “moved by the primary cause,” then people are not free and God would be responsible for their actions. Yet in his soteriology, God’s sovereign determination of the human will is precisely what guarantees the saving response of the elect.
If divine determination of the will destroys meaningful freedom when explaining evil, why does that same determination preserve meaningful freedom when explaining salvation?
There is an even deeper epistemological problem. If exhaustive divine determinism means that God determines not merely what we choose, but our desires, thoughts, evaluations, judgments, and beliefs, then the problem extends beyond salvation and free will to our ability to know that our beliefs are true in the first place. Timothy Stratton and J. P. Moreland’s “Free-Thinking Argument” specifically defines exhaustive divine determinism as the view that God necessitates all events, including human “desires, thoughts, intuitions, beliefs, actions, behaviors, evaluations, and judgments.”
They argue that if our beliefs are exhaustively determined, and we know that human beings sometimes believe false things, then we have a serious epistemic problem: if something or someone else determines us to affirm a falsehood, what gives us confidence that we could have arrived at a better or true belief in the same circumstances?
That raises a devastating question for theological determinism: If God determines every belief, including false theological beliefs held by Christians, how do I know that my belief that Calvinism is true is not simply another belief God has determined me to hold? I cannot appeal to my reasoning process as an independent check if God also determined the reasoning process, the premises I find persuasive, the conclusions I draw, and even my confidence that I have reasoned correctly.
The Free-Thinking Argument presses precisely this concern: under exhaustive determinism, if something or someone else determines our thoughts, there is no obvious basis for claiming epistemic responsibility for those thoughts; and if our cognitive faculties are not reliably aimed at truth, our conclusions—including our conclusions about determinism—are themselves subject to rational doubt.
Under Calvinistic determinism, the problem extends beyond our choices to our theological beliefs themselves. If God exhaustively determines every thought, desire, judgment, and belief, then He necessarily determines not only true theological beliefs but also the false theological beliefs people hold. A Calvinist who rejects the Trinity, misunderstands Scripture, embraces Islam, or simply arrives at a false interpretation of a biblical passage does so because God sovereignly determined the cognitive circumstances and beliefs that led him there.
The obvious epistemological question follows: if God determines both true and false beliefs, what makes my belief that Calvinism is true trustworthy? I may sincerely believe that I have arrived at Calvinism through careful exegesis and sound reasoning—but if God also determined my reasoning, premises, intuitions, and conclusion, sincerity and rational confidence cannot by themselves demonstrate that my conclusion is actually true. The problem is not that truth ceases to exist; it is that exhaustive determinism seems to undermine our ability to know that our determined beliefs correspond to it.
This is the concern I have explored elsewhere in “If God Determines Every Belief, Why Trust Yours?”: exhaustive divine determinism does not necessarily deny that objective truth exists, but it raises the question of how a determined creature can reliably distinguish truth from divinely determined error.
That brings us back to MacArthur’s “two religions.” Within his system, the elect are sovereignly determined to receive divine accomplishment, while the reprobate are sovereignly determined to remain without it. One person believes because God sovereignly grants the necessary grace; another remains unbelieving because God sovereignly passes him over. And if God also determines the beliefs and reasoning processes by which we arrive at our theological conclusions, then even the Calvinist who concludes, “Calvinism is true because Scripture teaches it,” must acknowledge that his interpretation of Scripture is itself the product of the same divine determination.
The question therefore becomes unavoidable: What makes his conclusion a genuine discovery of truth rather than simply the belief God determined him to hold?
This is why the issue cannot be dismissed by saying, “But people still make choices.” Of course they do. A determined person can experience deliberation, make choices, form beliefs, and sincerely believe he has reasoned correctly. The question is whether he is the ultimate rational agent directing that process or merely the endpoint of a causal chain he did not originate. Stratton and Moreland describe the alternatives starkly: are we genuinely responsible agents “steering the ship,” or are we passive passengers waiting to see where the antecedent causal chain takes us?
If MacArthur wants to insist that human beings possess genuine self-determination because otherwise God becomes responsible for their evil, then he needs to explain why that same self-determination disappears when discussing salvation, while the resulting determination of beliefs and choices somehow remains sufficient for genuine epistemic responsibility.
So the problem with MacArthur’s two-religion illustration is not that it distinguishes works from grace. We [non-Calvinists] agree with that distinction. The problem is that his illustration presents salvation as though two genuinely available alternatives stand before the individual—“human achievement” or “divine accomplishment”—while his theological determinism ultimately makes the individual’s choice itself the product of God’s prior determination. The non-Calvinist does not believe that trusting Christ earns salvation, contributes merit to the cross, or makes Christ’s accomplishment possible.
We believe Christ accomplished salvation and that the sinner is genuinely called to trust Him. Faith receives; it does not merit. And unlike exhaustive determinism, this preserves something essential not only to moral responsibility but to rational responsibility: the human being is an active agent capable of responding to reasons, evaluating evidence, rejecting error, and genuinely trusting the truth rather than merely being determined to believe whatever God has decreed him to believe.
BOTTOM LINE:
MacArthur says there are “two religions,” but exhaustive Calvinistic determinism ultimately leaves us with only one determining power: God. There may be two religious outcomes, two paths, and two destinations, but there are not two ultimately autonomous alternatives. God determines who believes, what they believe, which path they take, and where they finally arrive. The apparent dualism disappears. There aren’t two competing religions ultimately determining human destiny. There is one sovereign decree determining two outcomes.
JOHNNY MAC’s TRANSCRIPT 2.0
You say, “In a world of multiple religions, how can there only be two choices?” Because ultimately there are only two destinations: heaven or hell. There may be thousands of religious labels and countless variations, but every person will end up on one of those two paths.
There really are only two religions in the world. There is the religion of human achievement—every system that looks to works, morality, religious ceremonies, rituals, merit, or human effort as the basis for acceptance with God. That is the way of the flesh, and it ends in condemnation, whatever name the religion bears.
On the other hand, there is the religion of divine accomplishment. Salvation is entirely God’s work. The elect do not contribute anything to their salvation; God chose them before the foundation of the world, regenerated them, granted them faith and repentance, and brought them irresistibly to Christ. Their believing is not what ultimately distinguishes them from the unbelieving; God’s sovereign choice does. Their faith is the result of God’s saving determination, not the determining cause of it.
And that means the two paths are not ultimately two independently available choices that determine one’s eternal destiny. The elect believe because God sovereignly determined to save them and effectually gave them the grace to believe. The non-elect do not believe because God did not choose to give them that saving grace. He “passes them over,” leaving them in their fallen condition. Thus, one person arrives at heaven because God sovereignly determined to give him saving grace, while another arrives at hell because God sovereignly determined not to give him that grace.
So the first way involves what God has determined to leave the sinner to, while the true way involves what God has sovereignly determined to accomplish. The decisive difference is not ultimately the sinner’s choice; it is God’s decree. The sinner certainly chooses, but even that choice is the result of the nature, desires, and grace God sovereignly determined for him.
Therefore, when I say, “Make your choice,” I do not mean that the sinner possesses an autonomous ability to determine which eternal destiny he will choose. I mean that God has sovereignly ordained both the destination and the means by which each person will arrive there. The elect will choose Christ because God determined to give them the grace to choose Christ; the reprobate will reject Christ because God determined to pass them over.
There are therefore two roads—but within exhaustive divine determinism, God ultimately determines who walks each road.
If God determines the belief, the reasoning, and the moral judgment by which I conclude that God is good, what makes that conclusion trustworthy?
In putting together this post the CS LEWIS illumination from his The Problem of Pain and my posts on it
Lewis’s point becomes especially relevant when applied to exhaustive theological determinism. If God determines not only what we choose, but also what we believe, how we reason, what we judge, and even what we call “good,” then God necessarily determines both true and false theological conclusions. If our moral and rational faculties are sufficiently corrupted that we cannot trust them, while God simultaneously determines the beliefs we arrive at through those faculties, what independent basis do we have for knowing that our conception of God’s goodness is actually good—or that our theology is actually true? We don’t need human judgment to be infallible, but we do need it to be sufficiently connected to truth that we can recognize when we are wrong.
This is where Lewis’s argument cuts against the claim that God’s morality can simply be “beyond” ours. If “God is good” could mean that God calls good what we rightly recognize as evil, then the statement “God is good” becomes practically meaningless; we could just as easily obey an omnipotent fiend. Lewis is not arguing for human moral autonomy—he allows that our moral judgments can be corrected and brought into greater conformity with God’s. His point is that God’s goodness transcends our moral understanding without becoming its opposite or becoming unintelligible. Likewise, if Calvinistic determinism makes God the ultimate determiner of our reasoning, beliefs, and moral judgments, then the Calvinist needs to explain what makes his determined conclusion about God’s goodness—and his theology generally—trustworthy. Otherwise, both “God is good” and “Calvinism is true” risk becoming assertions without a meaningful epistemic standard by which we can know either one is actually true.