How Can God Be Loving?
- Sam Storms
- Nov 6, 2006
- Series: Divine Election
Another objection usually follows quickly
on the heels of the previous two. It is often conceded that whereas it may not
be unjust of God not to save all, it is surely unloving of him at least not to
try. If God is love, the Arminian argues, then he must manifest that love equally and
universally. To answer this objection properly it will be necessary to discuss
yet another controversial doctrine, the extent of the atonement. But our primary
concern is still with election.
This objection has been articulated by
Normal Geisler in the form of an illustration, and it is in that form that I
will address it. Here is the illustration.
“Suppose a farmer discovers three boys
drowning in his pond where signs clearly forbid swimming. Further, noting their
clear disobedience, he says to himself, ‘They have violated the warning and have
brought these deserved consequences on themselves.’ Thus far we may be willing
to agree. But if the farmer proceeds to say, ‘Therefore I will make no attempt
to rescue them,’ we would immediately think something is lacking in his love.
And suppose by some inexplicable whim he should declare ‘I have no obligation to
save any of them, but out of the goodness of my heart I will save one of them
and let the other two drown.’ In such a case we would surely consider his love
partial” (Norman L. Geisler, “God Knows All Things,” in Predestination and
Free Will: Four Views of Divine Sovereignty and Human Freedom, ed. David Basinger and Randall Basinger
[Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity, 1986], pp. 69-70).
No one expects an illustration to be
perfect, nor for all its points to correspond in every respect with those truths
of biblical reality it is seeking to portray. But oftentimes so much is left
unsaid that what is
said is misleading. These kinds of illustrations can misrepresent a position and
thus prejudice the reader against the view to which the author is objecting. The
illustration cited above is a case in point.
Clearly the farmer in the illustration is
analogous to God. I have no objection to this as long as we understand
something. The farmer is not to be thought of in terms of a man who himself has
probably been shown mercy by others in similar circumstances. The temptation is
to charge him with heartless cruelty and even ingratitude for being unwilling to
do for all three boys what someone else once graciously did for him. But if the
farmer is analogous to God he must be conceived as infinitely holy, pure, just,
and righteous, as well as loving. Our tendency is to think little of a man who
declines to show mercy, because we assume that all men are obligated to do so.
However, this farmer is not a man, but God. And God, to be quite blunt about it,
is obligated to no one or no thing other than himself. He is sovereign and free
to act in a way that a man is not. Let us be careful, therefore, not to pass
judgment on what God does based on our expectations of what a man should
do.
Related to this is the tendency to think
that if he really wanted to, it would not affect the farmer in the least simply
to take down the sign, suspend the punishment, and turn his pond into a swimming
hole for everyone to enjoy. But again, God’s retributive justice is not like an
old hat that he can discard if he so chooses. Retributive justice is as much a
part of God’s nature as love is.
I am not suggesting that the author of
this illustration denies that God is infinitely holy and righteous, and that
retributive justice is essential to his character. I am only arguing that the
illustration leaves so much unsaid about the farmer that it inevitably creates a
prejudice against him in the minds of most readers. The farmer, as he is
portrayed, is a “straw God.”
Does it not also seem that this
illustration trivializes sin? The analogy portrays human sin to be as petty and
insignificant as disregarding a “No Swimming” sign! Thus we are led to pass
judgment on the loving character of the farmer based on the idea that he would
let these poor boys die for no more than a childish prank! I can only say, as
St. Anselm once did, “You have not yet considered what a heavy weight sin is.”
That sin on account of which we stand in peril of death is infinitely heinous,
grievous, pervasive, and altogether repellent.
Furthermore, in the illustration it is
not against the farmer himself that the boys have transgressed, but against an
abstract and impersonal law, one that prohibits swimming in the farmer’s pond
(where, in fact, “No Swimming” signs have been posted). But in biblical reality
we are bound to confess, as David did, “against Thee, Thee
only, I have sinned, and
done what is evil in Thy sight” (Ps. 51:4a; italics added). And
it is not merely one sin, one unhappy violation, but an entire life given over
to wickedness and rebellion.
We are not talking about three “good old
boys” who never before had a brush with the law. It is not as if they are in
peril of death because of a momentary lapse from what was otherwise an upright
and upstanding life of morality and obedience. These boys are by nature and
choice the enemies of this farmer and of all that is good and proper. “From the
womb they have gone forth speaking lies,” and every intent of the thought of
their hearts “was only evil continually.” Their fling in the pond is but one of
a multitude of willful, morally despicable deeds for which they have become
known. Precisely because it is a multitude of high-handed transgressions against
an infinitely holy
and righteous God, their sin is infinitely unholy and unrighteous. He who in all
respects is worthy of praise, honor, and obedience receives nothing but mockery,
hatred, and rebellion. These boys (indeed, all of us) have spit in his holy
face, have slandered his holy name, and have exposed to open shame all that is
sacred and pure.
But how does the illustrator portray
these boys? Almost not at all. But by
not portraying them as the Bible does one is left with a distorted impression.
The illustration as it stands leaves one with the idea that these poor helpless
victims are crying out from the pond for deliverance. Having realized the
stupidity and immorality of their deed, and now repenting, they flail away
helplessly in the water, treading with all their strength to stay afloat, hoping
that God (the farmer) will save them.
On the contrary, the biblical portrait
would be of three boys who are thrilled to be where they are! They knowingly,
willingly, and happily jumped in and would not have it any other way. They could
not care less about God or his revealed moral will. In fact, they revel in their
offense and the grief they bring to him by their transgression. Not only that,
but they seek to entice and lure other passers-by to jump in with them (Rom.
1:28-32). Not content with their own sin, they refuse to be satisfied until they
have been joined by all in a united front against God and his
law.
And how do they respond when they see
God’s attempt to deliver them? Do they
reach out to grasp his hand? No! They splash water in his face, mocking him and
laughing at his compassion. They had rather drown in misery than so much as
touch the hand that reaches to deliver them.
When the farmer is finally portrayed as
seeking their deliverance, he does so on an “inexplicable whim.” A “whim”? This
sort of needless caricature portrays God’s solemn, most blessed, and altogether
gracious determination to save as little more than a bothersome afterthought,
with no purpose or design. What the author of this illustration calls a "whim”
the Word of God calls “the kind intention of His will” (Eph.
1:5b).
In a subsequent paragraph the author of
the illustration appears to suggest that the “loving” effort of the farmer to
save these boys finds its correspondence in biblical reality in God’s sending
Jesus Christ to die for the world. Dying on the cross for every single lost
sinner, but doing nothing whereby to secure and guarantee the salvation of any
for whom he suffered, is the illustrator’s idea of divine love. In this view of
the atonement, it is theoretically possible that no one will believe and be
saved. Christ’s death was designed neither to procure for them saving faith and
repentance nor to produce it within them through the ministry of the Holy
Spirit. I find this to be a curious sort of love.
On the theory of the atonement advocated
by the illustrator, what might the farmer be inclined to do? Does he actually
jump in and carry each boy safely to shore, or perhaps build a pier out to them
and reach over the edge to pull all three out of the water? No. Otherwise we
would conclude that everyone will be saved, and universalism is not warranted by
Holy Scripture.
Given the illustrator’s view of Christ’s
atoning work, he might think of the farmer as throwing out a life line, or some
life jackets, or perhaps some inner tubes, and then entreating the boys to reach
out with their hands and avail themselves of the opportunity to be saved. But if
our understanding of total depravity and the bondage of the will is correct (and
obviously the illustrator does not believe that it is), they are neither able
nor willing to grab hold of the life line. And the farmer (God) knows this. He
is aware that their rebellious plunge into the pond resulted in the breaking of
their arms and hands.
But remember, these boys could not care
less. Even without hands or arms by which to grab the life line or put on the
life jackets, they rebuff God’s efforts, declaring their intent to stay right
where they are. The illustrator would have us believe that it is a great and
majestic love that tries to save these three boys but refuses to provide them
with what he knows is absolutely essential to get them out of the water safely.
He knows they will otherwise drown, but his saving efforts deliberately fall
short of guaranteeing that any of the three will survive.
Divine, biblical love, on the other hand,
entails that the farmer casts his own son into the pond, knowing full well that
if his son makes an effort to save the boys he will die. The son swims to the
three boys, notwithstanding their vehement and hostile cries that he get out of
the water and leave them alone. As he reaches the three, he extends his arms in
love to but one of them. Though that one boy is vile and reprehensible in every
respect, the son of the farmer brings him back safely to shore, but in doing so
he himself drowns. The two remaining boys laugh and mock that the farmer’s son
has drowned. Their glee is beyond control. The one boy for whom the son gave his
life to save is suddenly brought to tears as he senses the magnitude of the love
that has been shown him, while he was yet hateful and full of blasphemy. The
farmer lifts the boy up, dries him off, cleans the mud and filth from his body,
and clothes him in the garments of his own dear son. They embrace in everlasting
love. The young boy falls to his knees in gratitude, tears flowing. The two who
remain in the water continue hurling their taunts at the farmer, declaring that
even if they could start anew, they would dive defiantly into the middle of that
pond without a moment’s hesitation.
I will tell you what love is. It is not
providing a life line to drowning men who have no arms or hands with which to
grasp it. It is sacrificing your only son to jump in and rescue someone by
wrapping that rope around his waist and drawing him firmly but surely to the
safety of the shore. And what of the two who remain, and demand loudly that they
be left to their chosen plight? “So be it,” says the farmer. “You not only
deserve to drown, but take delight in it as well. Have it your way.” And they
do.