Was Pelagius Right and, If So, Is Christ's Death Unnecessary?

I'm reading Clark Pinnock, A Wideness in God's Mercy, and it is as fascinating as it is encouraging. Pinnock is trying to find a balance between a pessimistic soteriological stance, in which very few are saved, and Universalism--in which all people are saved. Both extremes are unacceptable, in his view. The discussion attempts to find an optimistic theology of salvation centered around the concept of the "pious pagans" of scripture like Job, Melchizedek, Cornelius, etc. ("pious pagans" is my paraphrase).

In the early chapters of the book, he finds fault with Augustine (rightly) for founding a narrow, pessimistic view of salvation. "There were features in Augustine's thinking which led him inexorably to a pessimism of salvation. In the bitter Pelagian controversy, for example, he was driven to emphasize the sheer gratuity of divine grace at the expense of any human contribution....Augustine took it in the direction of a pessimism of salvation. People are hopelessly lost in sin, can do nothing to save themselves, and deserve nothing from God as judge."(p.38)

Basically, Augustine, in response to Pelagius, went to the extreme of claiming that man cannot do any good on his own and is completely in need of God to offer Grace--even to give him the ability to accept it. But what was Pelagius saying? What is the Pelagian controversy?

I don't want to oversimplify it, but Pelagius was a theologian who claimed that it had to be possible, logically, for the average person to live a sinless life. And throughout history, the name "Pelagius" has been synonymous with controversy--if not heresy. At the heart of people's problems with this idea is the notion that, if it is possible to live a sinless life, Jesus' death is irrelevant. Most likely, the reader feels the same way. But, in the spirit of the Abyss, let me challenge the prevailing wisdom against Pelagius with my own thoughts!

It seems to me that taking a side in the Pelagian controversy is a natural thing to do, and unavoidable. And I understand why most people are offended by Pelagius. There are difficult ramifications to his idea. However, I think there are difficult ramifications of the opposite idea, as well. Let me explain.

Romans 3:23 states, "All sin and fall short of the glory of God," as I remember it. In other words, there is no person who does not sin--for this reason, the point of the epistle is that all people (Jew and Gentile) need a savior! I agree, otherwise I would be a heretic. But does this mean that it is impossible for me not to sin, or does it mean that I am tainted by the human condition to desire sin so much that the odds are infinitesimally small that I should live my entire life without ever giving in once?

Here is the crux of the argument. Most of us, except those of us who have accepted hardcore Calvinism, accept that we are free agents with the ability to choose what we will do from moment to moment. I think biblical Christian theology rests heavily on our own responsibility in sin. For that reason, I have to accept that in any case in which I am tempted to sin, I am faced with a choice. I can give in to the part of me that desires to sin, or I can choose not to. And, if I'm going to be transparent with you--sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. If, in every case I am tempted to sin I have a choice, then it has to be logically possible (not probable, but possible) that I should make the right choice in every instance.

Now, most people accept that in each individual case I have free choice. But they tend to stop short when it comes to the overall picture. We have a tendency to say, "No, we can't live a sinless life--it's impossible." But I ask this question then, "At what point in my life do I enter a situation in which I have no choice but to sin?" Which time is it impossible not to sin? And if there is a point at which it is impossible not to sin, how can I be held accountable for something I have no choice in doing? Freedom necessitates the possibility of a sinless life.

Mind you, I'm not advocating that this is likely, or that any of us will achieve this. But I think it has to be possible--if not pragmatically, at least logically.

Usually someone will say something to the effect of, "Well, on a cognitive level, perhaps. But the fact that we can sin without knowing it makes it impossible to go through life without sinning." In response, I offer two answers:

1. Personally, I don't believe it is possible to sin without knowing it--the essence of sin is willing disobedience and rebellion. Romans also states that sin is not imputed when there is no law--and Paul states that when he learned the law sin sprang to life and he died. I think if a person does not understand an action to be sinful, it is not accounted to him as sin because he is not willfully disobeying. I think this is what Jesus means when he tells his disciples that they will not enter heaven unless they become like children--innocent. Anyone who has children understands the profoundness of this verse--children lie and do things wrong all the time, but they are considered innocent because they are not able to comprehend that their actions are rebellion against a transcendent law.

2. Even if it is possible to sin without knowing it, it's still non sequitur that a sinless life is absolutely impossible. Even if is possible to sin without willful disobedience, it is still conceivable that a person should do the right thing in every situation. It isn't likely, but it is possible.

But doesn't this eliminate our need for Christ? If we could live sinlessly, doesn't that mean he didn't need to die? This is the question that I always run into in this discussion. But the truth is, I don't understand why people jump to that conclusion. Let me illustrate with an analogy.

Let's say that I can't swim, but I am invited to a party which will be held on big yacht floating in the middle of a very deep lake. Now, let's say that at one point, someone asks me if I would like to swim in the lake. I know what I should do--I should stay on the boat and put on an extra life vest. But let's say that I choose to jump in the water and immediately begin drowning. Now, I had several choices to avoid my immanent death. I could have decided not to attend the party. I could have made sure to wear a life vest. I could have chosen not to jump in the water. In all choices, I was free--and I made the wrong choice each time. Now, does the fact that I chose the wrong thing mean that I don't need a lifeguard to save me? Quite the opposite--the fact that I freely chose to do something so deadly is exactly why I need a savior!

I think the problem with the argument is that we're assuming that our need for Christ's sacrifice precedes our actual sin. But did Adam and Eve need a savior before they chose to disobey? They lived a sinless life, until they decided to rebel against what God had told them. After this, they needed a savior. Unless they were predetermined to sin, which some people do believe, they could have chosen to do the right thing--in which case, Jesus' death would not have been necessary for them.

In my opinion, the fact that it is possible for me not to sin does not eliminate my need for Christ. Quite the opposite--it emphasizes it. The fact that I could have chosen not to sin makes Christ's sacrifice all the more loving and, well, unfair! We believe that he willingly died for people who are guilty of willing disobedience--they could have chosen to live sinlessly, but they didn't. At the heart of the profoundness of Christ's sacrifice is the fact that we don't deserve it! It is our freedom in the choice to sin that makes Christ's sacrifice so much more profound.

On the other hand, if I can't help but sin then it really isn't my fault that I do, and it is questionable that we need someone to take a punishment that we don't really deserve.

One last note... We are unable to save ourselves--but only after we sin! Before we sin, we don't need a savior. This is why children are innocent.

I am very happy to take comments about this post. What I'm trying to do right now is find a way to come to grips with my own inadequacies and faults as a man and a Christian. I'm getting counseling right now and my counselor and I tend to bump heads about this a lot--he's trying to convince me to not be so hard on myself and others, but I'm stuck on the fact that I must be able to choose to do the right thing from one moment to the next. This is the theology I believe, but in practice it's a hard one. I'm trying to come to grips with self-forgiveness. Any help?

A Benefit of Non-Certainty

In my recent posts, I have dealt with epistemological certainty when doing theology. My view gets a bad rap sometimes, but it is honest. However, last night I think I discovered a real benefit to acknowledging doubt.

My family and I went out to do some clothes shopping (a truly rare occurence). Of course, after two hours of shopping, I was delirious and groggy. We decided to eat at Applebees (another rare occurrence), and were seated at a table just outside the bar area.

The restaurant was not crowded and it was easy to listen in on the conversations of other people in the room. One man was very easy to hear--he was seated at the bar and talking to a woman there. He sounded like he was a university student, but he was a little older than what is typical. He had had anywhere from two to nine beers, apparently, and was feeling pretty confident. Ironically, he looked and sounded pretty ridiculous. He was one of those lucky guys whose reaction to alcohol was largely philosophical. He began to explain to the woman next to him--in several different wordings and volume levels--this basic idea: "God" is just a human construct developed to provide people with comfort in the face of their struggles.

Now, I was immediately interested and were it not for the fact that I was there with my family and this guy was nearly incoherent, I would have attempted to engage him in conversation. But here is the crux--his statement really had me thinking, and had me a little worried. I began to wonder how I would respond to him if he had presented that idea to me. How do you answer such a claim? The worst of it was, I've heard the question before and even talked about it in classes. This was exactly Ludwig Feuerbach's idea when he inverted the Hegelian Dialectic and claimed that God is a projection of man.

Of course, if God is a projection, he is a poor projection. If we were creating him for our comfort, you'd think we'd create a more comfortable God. That's the first and easiest problem with his statement. But it is not a proof that the man was incorrect. How can I show him that he cannot possibly be right? I came to the conclusion that I couldn't prove it one way or the other. I flirted with despair!

It finally occurred to me that the reason I was having a hard time trying to argue in my mind against his statement was that his statement really wasn't an argument. He wasn't giving a reason not to believe in God, he was giving an explanation for the question, "If God doesn't exist, why is there so much talk about God?" He was shouting (literally) that God is a figment, but was really beginning from the paradigm that God does not exist. But there is a central flaw here related to certainty.

I really think the strength of Christianity lies in something other than knowledge. What do I mean . . . ? The man at the bar last night was resting on the assumption that God definitely does not exist. And his anger was reflective of the feeling of assurance he had about God's ontological status. This is the weakness of atheism: it claims to have all of the ins and outs well in hand--it claims that it knows with certainty that God definitely does not exist. From there, it attempts to explain why we have all of this talk about God. But that kind of knowledge is exactly what is not possible from an enlightenment definition of knowledge--even though that is what modernity claims about God. It really is impossible to prove God's ontological status one way or the other with a modern understanding of knowledge. At last, non-certainty has a bright side!

That is also the strength of Christianity. We don't claim to have complete knowledge--far from it. We are limited humans with limited ability to know anything with certainty. The atheist claims he knows that God does not exist--if he doesn't claim that, then he is really just an agnostic. But the Christian is free from this prison of knowledge to refer to himself as a believer. I finally breathed a great sigh of relief last night when I realized, I don't have to prove it, only believe it. Christians are not knowers in the Kantian sense, but believers.

Really, it takes a great deal of hubris to claim to have knowledge of God's existence or non-existence. As my friend said to me today, what a person is actually saying when he claims to know is that he himself owns that knowledge, he has complete grasp of it. Saying "I know" is really a statement about my ability to know something. But I don't think I am capable of knowing or having a complete understanding.

The Bible means something else completely when it refers to knowledge. It is an experiential knowledge, not an acquiring knowledge. It is this concept of knowledge that I hope to understand someday. I am just about ready to start reading Polanyi's Personal Knowledge and have also picked up Wittgenstein's On Certainty. When I finally come to my conclusion, I'll let you know!

Relative Certainty, Within Assumed Paradigms

Whereas the last few posts have dealt chiefly with our ability to know whether God has acted in a certain situation, it became clear in a continuing series of comments (see the article entitled, "Another Case for Coincidence" and the following comments) between me and one of my close friends that at the heart of this discussion is the nature of knowledge and certainty. I have explained that I, due to the influence of modernism, have ascribed to the enlightenment concept of knowledge as justified, true belief. In Kantian form, I have accepted that it is not really possible to have certainty about anything metaphysical. As my friend Terry has pointed out, it would seem that anything can be doubtable from this viewpoint. And I have to admit, I wrestle with skepticism in my own life.

This post will deal with one question he asked which resonated with me and forced me to wrestle with it. I want the reader to know that I hold my friend in high esteem and respect his viewpoint entirely, though he and I are approaching these issues from radically different mindsets. So that you will know the context of the question he asked, here are the preceding words:

"And how do you think this view will affect witnessing for Christ? The best you can say is, 'I think God is real. I think he sent his Son. You should think this too.' But the person says to you, 'But what if you are wrong?' To which the best you can say is, 'Yeah, I may be.'"

The question Terry is asking is relevant. He is saying, "If you say you cannot know with certainty that God exists, etc., how do you effectively evangelize? Aren't you really shooting your effort in the foot to admit that you could be wrong?" I think I have an adequate response to this. I think that the seriousness of this discussion merits my humility and people should expect that I do not claim to have certainty. Besides this, the person being evangelized who does not believe already thinks I might be wrong. So, displaying a little humility is a positive thing. From his eyes, the scientific naturalists and other atheists are also claiming certainty. But I think it is a much better answer to say, "It is possible that I could be wrong. I'm not perfect and I may not see everything. But from what I can see, I think I have very good reason to believe as I do. Let me share those reasons with you." From and apologetic standpoint, in postmodern culture, I think that's about as far as you're going to get. In reality, I've concluded that most people do not approach Christianity rationally anyhow. Most people do not come to Christ because they've reasoned Christianity to be true or because they heard a well-informed argument about the modern trustworthiness of scripture, but they move to it existentially. It is felt need that drives people to faith in Christ.

But Terry made one more statement that I had no answer for until today. It was this:

"What does this do with knowing the truth, and the truth setting you free? We have to know, Jason."

Now, on the second part of the statement, I think my friend's thought is insightful, though this specific wording doesn't communicate the point I think he is making. Whether he feels we have to know or I feel we do not is irrelevant. Either we know or we don't know. "Have to," doesn't fit the discussion. But what is relevant, and what I think he is really trying to say here is that we do have to speak with some certainty when dealing with the truth claims of the Bible and of Jesus Christ. And here he has a valid point. How do we speak of the truth of the Bible, or the assurance of salvation, or Jesus Christ as the "way, truth, and life" while affirming that it is not possible to have certainty in metaphysical pronouncements?

Truthfully, Terry has really had me thinking this week about this. And a sermon by Mark Driscoll I heard today also emphasized my problem. He said (in a rough paraphrase), "We must preach the gospel with certainty." But how, with a mind moved by the modern notion of knowledge, do I accomplish this?

For me it is too late to retreat to premodernism. I will never experience, this side of judgment, the type of certainty I once had as a child. In many ways, I envy that of some of my friends and I don't want to steal it from them. But I have accepted this concept of knowledge which claims that something must be true to be known, and to know that you know it you must be able to show with certainty the truthfulness of the thing claimed to be known. Since I cannot "prove" the gospel, what hope is there?

In my defense, in one post I mentioned that there is a blindness to our faith. It is the evidence of things hoped for. Faith is, in many important ways, unprovable belief. When Thomas, who sought epistemological certainty, claimed that he would not believe Jesus was alive until he had seen with his own eyes and felt with his fingers, Jesus responded afterwards by saying, "Blessed are you because you have seen and believed. But more blessed are those who will not see and still will believe." I think Jesus was saying that there will be those who recognize that they don't have the type of Kantian certainty that Thomas demanded, but will still choose to believe. Because of this, in a sense, I think the person who claims he does not know with certainty but still believes really demonstrates greater faith than the person who says, "I know this is true and cannot possibly be wrong." One acknowledges doubt and believes anyway (I believe, help my unbelief!), the other claims to have no doubt. Well, I really don't know who has the more faith! There is a good argument for either.

But how do I approach the truth of scripture? I think the answer is actually pretty simple. I think I can believe that Jesus is the "truth" while still acknowledging that I do not have the certainty my friend believes he has this way.

The other day I was talking with someone about my dreams for the future, and what I thought might happen. I was lamenting that a certain opportunity I had desired had not opened up for me and stated, "This opportunity will not happen for me. It is closed to me." Someone I love dearly replied, "With all your claims about certainty, how can you know this is true?" I was immediately frustrated because this person is adept at using my own words to reveal my duplicity. But the truth is, there is relative certainty within specific paradigms. She was right that I don't know everything that is going to happen. In fact, anything can happen. But what I meant when I said, "this opportunity will not happen," was really, "based on what I know about the opportunity offered to me currently, and based on recent events, I feel certain that my chances are virtually nill." My certainty was not epistemologically sound, but within the paradigm of my current career path, my judgment is accurate.

It is the same of the truth of Christ. The bottom line is, I do not think that we can know metaphysical realities with certainty. But I can say this, "within the paradigm of Christianity, we can have confidence that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We can have confidence that he will keep his promises and that he does not lie. We can believe that he is true." In other words, "I can't prove it is true. But I can say that, if it is true--Jesus is your answer. And he is a better answer than anything else you're going to try. So, it is reasonable and good to believe it and trust it, even though you may not ever feel you know it to be true."

Oh, when I write it down it feels so weak. But it is the best I can do for now. What else is there for someone who is acknowledging that his life goal of proving Christianity is true is unattainable? If it could be done, why wouldn't it have been done before now? Why wouldn't God have revealed it in ways that were undeniable? I can prove that it is better . . . that it is reasonable . . . that it is practical . . . that it is meaningful . . . and hopeful. But I cannot prove that it is true. That I must take on faith. And I am willing to do so.

Assuming the paradigm, Jesus is undeniable. But I only assume the paradigm on the basis of a reasoned faith.