Sometimes it seems that Calvinists confuse Calvinism with fatalism. Fatalism has its roots in Greek mythology. The Greeks had three goddesses, the Fates, who determined human destinies. Clotho spun the thread of fate; Lachesis measured the length of the thread; and Atropos cut the thread with scissors to determine the moment of death.
The following story is an example of fatalism:
“The Appointment in Samarra”
(as retold by W. Somerset Maugham)
Death: “There was a merchant in Bagdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, Master, just now when I was in the marketplace I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture. Now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me. The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the marketplace and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning? That was not a threatening gesture, I said, it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him in Bagdad, for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.”
Then there is scientific materialism. Scientific materialism is much like fatalism, except that it is mechanical rather than personal. It says we are products of a material universe. Everything we choose to do or say is not really a choice; it is a necessary action or word based on how we were made, plus how we have been altered by our experiences. This perspective is rooted in atheism. It is a means to reject the necessity of God. Atheists long for independence from God. Their longing for freedom is, ironically, destroyed by their view of mechanical necessity. Scientific materialism is like walking into a prison and locking the door behind yourself. With scientific materialism, all choices are illusions and, in fact, all opinions are pointless. It is truly a wonder that people espouse this view.
The Arminian is a Christian who struggles mightily with the issue of God’s sovereignty and human responsibility. The Arminian would say that God remains sovereign over all things as an almighty Framework for all things, leaving space in which individuals are permitted to exercise free will. They might say, “God lets us run loose in the yard but the yard is surrounded by a sturdy fence. He has full authority over the yard but he lets people act freely in it.”
This common perspective does not reflect biblical teaching. Biblical teaching is paradoxical, which is to say that it seems self-contradictory. It says to us that we must use our minds to make right choices. It says we must live by faith in him, which means that we order our actions and words on the basis of our trust that he is all-powerful, that he loves us with all good intent, and that he is the sustainer of our very lives. The Christian faith is, through and through, a call for humans to act and to respond to God.
At the same time, the Bible teaches that God’s sovereignty is absolute. He created the world and called it good. He wasn’t surprised by the faithlessness of Adam and Eve; it was his plan. Even the story of Noah, which comes across as a “do-over” was part of his plan. Our sin is part of his plan. And, yet, God does not make us sin. This would be illogical since sin is rebellion against God’s commands. If humans were made to sin, their actions, not being their own, would not qualify as rebellion.
What I believe happens, and I say this with only a vague sense of the meaning of my own words, is that God, in his sovereignty, is able and has ordained human agency. When I think about it, human agency is only possible if God makes it so. If I have agency it is because God grants it to me. Can I save myself by good works? Certainly not. God has set the standard of holiness and it is clear I am incapable of that. (I’m not sure how often I sin but I’m glad there is not a thought-meter connected to my head, broadcasting my thoughts public information.) Can I achieve heaven? I’m like the rich man in the story of Lazarus. I have no ability to cross over the great chasm. Like him, I can’t even see it. I can’t find it to even think about figuring a way to get over it. Can I have faith in order to please God so that he will carry me over? Not unless he opens the eyes of my understanding. So I see that at every turn, all depends on God. And, yet, we see that it is the faith of the saints that pleases God. It is their belief. It is their belief that translates into their action.
In the final analysis, we must recognize that whatever our gifts, whatever our insights, whatever our strengths, they were given to us by God. As such, there is no room for personal pride. There is no place for any of us to look down on anyone else. We must be clothe ourselves in humility if we understand that all we have and all we are has been given to us. Even so, we must also respond to our privilege by living and acting in accordance with God’s will and guidance. We pour our strength and imagination and passion and discipline and determination into knowing God’s purposes and working to support them. God is sovereign over all but it is his sovereignty that enables us to have agency and meaning. This is the paradox and it is the necessity.
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