God my Father,
I confess that I have not obeyed you as I ought;
I have not obeyed you because
I have not loved your Word as I ought;
I have not loved your Word because
I have not loved you as I ought.

I want to love you,
but I am too easily lost in the world that is myself—
I have believed that I possess righteousness
because I am righteous;
I have believed that I possess wisdom
because I am wise;
I have become great in my own eyes.

O, shine the light of your truth into my black heart!
Let me never forget
that my righteousness is as filthy rags,
that it is you who gives faith,
that it is you who grants repentance.

Stir the embers of my affections,
so they may not grow cold and die.
Fuel them to a roaring flame,
until the heat is felt by those around me.
Let me know the sweetness of fellowship with you.
Let me know you, that I may love you.

Before Christmas I asked whether or not we believe anything by choice. Most of the comments agreed that we do not. Today I want to explain why I believe that is true. This post will probably be somewhat redundant, and I will no doubt belabor the point, but I want to leave no holes in this argument because it is crucial to my understanding of the relationship of the will to salvation.

Proposition: It is impossible to choose what one believes.

The desk I am sitting behind is solid oak. I believe it is solid oak. I believe that because I know a few facts about it. (1) I chose the lumber myself at the lumber yard. It was labeled as red oak. It could possibly have been labeled incorrectly, but (2) I know what oak looks like. I know what color it is, and I know what the grain looks like. I know what it smells like, and I even know what it tastes like (although I did not taste it). This wood has all the physical characteristics of red oak. (3) Other people who know wood have commented on the oak furnishings in my office. They recognized it as oak without any prior suggestion that it was oak. These facts have convinced me that my desk is solid oak. Knowing these facts, I cannot believe otherwise.

I have a friend who is an attorney. I haven’t been to his office in a long time, and I don’t remember what his desk looks like. If he told me it was oak or mahogany, or something else, I would believe it based on facts that I know: (1) my friend is known by me to be honest, and (2) even if he was not honest, I would doubt any motivation to lie about such a thing. I believe the information because I trust the source.

Now, someone might say, in the case of information that lacks proof one way or another that one might choose to believe it. I have heard that language used, and I may have used it myself. Perhaps a child has proven himself untrustworthy. I will probably, for a time, restrict his freedom to limit his opportunities for mischief. When it seems appropriate, I will give him his freedom back, with the understanding that he will not repeat the infraction. He promises that he can be trusted, and I “believe” him. But I don’t necessarily really believe him. I don’t necessarily believe he will fail, either. I don’t actually believe either way. I am simply proceeding as though I believe him, giving him the opportunity to convince me.

Conversely, someone might say he refuses to believe something. Something might be so distasteful or abhorrent to him that he refuses to acknowledge the possibility that it is true. The truth is that he is either (1) denying facts that he actually believes so that he is free to proceed in a way that he could not if he acknowledged the truth, or (2) closing his mind to any information that might convince him, purposely remaining ignorant.

When we say we are choosing to believe, we really mean that we are proceeding as though we believe. We are testing claims to see if they are true. Our “choice to believe” might be anything from being pretty sure to wishful thinking; but it is not genuine belief. Genuine belief is, in all cases, involuntary and irresistible.

This is not a theological issue. It is simply a fact that cannot be denied. We believe what we know. Our knowledge might be incorrect, and we may be wrong, but belief is based on knowledge, and we cannot honestly deny what we know.

It must also be said that belief and faith are not synonymous. However, the same principle applies if we are claiming that faith is exercised by free will. Faith is trust in what we believe, or trust in the source of what we believe; so varying interpretations of Ephesians 2:8 are not going to throw me off at all.

I have said that this is not a theological issue, and so far it is not. The theological implications will come in a later post.

Next: Free Will: What Can It Do?

On January 2nd, Cal Thomas wrote this about the execution of Saddam Hussein:

In a final blasphemy, Saddam Hussein, who spent most of his life as a murdering secularist, went to his justified death holding a Koran and offering his soul to God, if God would accept it. If God does, He will have to commute the sentences of Saddam’s mass murdering predecessors, including Hitler, Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot. (italics added)

I have read enough of Thomas’ writing to know that he understands the Gospel better than that, so this is not intended as an attack on Cal Thomas. However, it is way past time to send this horrible cliché to the gallows.

Saddam Hussein is not in Hell today for being a mass-murderer. He has done no more to earn his eternal damnation than I have. Put another way, he deserves to spend eternity in Heaven just as much as I do—which is to say, not at all.

Saddam Hussein, brutal dictator, torturer, and mass-murderer, would be in Hell today even if he had been a benevolent leader of his country. Being a “good man” or a “nice guy” would not have saved him. Only one man has been good enough, and that is Jesus Christ, the son of God. The rest of us—you, me, Saddam Hussein—have failed to measure up to God’s standard, which is no less than perfection. This failure has not taken place over time, as we have made “wrong choices” and sinned against God and our fellow man, either. From the moment of our conception in our mothers’ wombs, we are imperfect (Psalm 51:5). We are sinners, and as sinners, we deserve condemnation and eternal punishment in Hell.

What, then, is to be done? Should we try really hard to do good and earn our place in Heaven? I certainly don’t want to discourage good behavior, but know this: you won’t get to Heaven by being good (Romans 3:20). If Saddam Hussein had been your neighbor, if he had blown the snow out of your driveway, fed your dog while you were on vacation, and bought Girl Scout cookies from your daughter, he would be in Hell today. If he had been a Peace Corpse volunteer who died of a disease contracted in a third-world country, he would be in Hell today. If he had been an American President who went to war to overthrow a murderous tyrant in the Middle East, he would be in Hell today.

John 3:18 tells us, “He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.” Saddam Hussein is in Hell for one reason only: his faith was not in Jesus Christ. It is that simple. And if your faith is not in Jesus Christ, it won’t matter how nice you are, how many good deeds you’ve done, or how much you’ve donated to charity. It won’t matter how faithfully you’ve attended church. It won’t matter if you’ve sung in the choir or taught Sunday School. It won’t even matter if you have been the pastor. If you believe you are in any way worthy of God’s mercy, if you are trusting in anything but the blood of Jesus Christ to atone for your sin, you are utterly without hope. You are on the road to Hell, just as surely if you were a genocidal dictator.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not a message of hope for good people. In the Gospel we do not see the good rewarded and the bad punished. The Biblical Gospel is a message about and for bad people. It is the story of the Son of God who came to do what we could not: live perfectly, without sin (Hebrews 4:15). It is the story of the Lamb of God who came to be what we could not: the perfect sacrifice for sin (Hebrews 9). It is the story of the one true God, who credits the perfect righteousness of his son, Jesus Christ, to all who believe (Romans 4).

Saddam Hussein is in Hell today because he did not believe that, and for no other reason. It does not matter one iota how good I have been. If I do not believe in Jesus Christ, if I am not trusting in his righteousness for my salvation, I am lost and will spend eternity in Hell. If God lets me into Heaven because of my own goodness, then he truly will owe Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot—and Saddam Hussein—an apology.

My Scripture reading this morning was in the Gospel of Matthew. These are a few of my thoughts from that reading.

The Gospel is often sold as the answer to our life’s problems. People are told that if they “accept Christ” their life will improve. Their marital problems will be solved. They will experience success and satisfaction in all their personal relationships. But is that what Scripture teaches? Consider Jesus’ words in Matthew 10:34-38:

Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household. He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.

Not exactly “your best life now,” is it? “When Jesus calls a man,” wrote Bonhoeffer, “he bids him come and die.” If you follow Jesus, your life might not improve. You might be shunned by your family. Your marriage might fall apart. Your children might reject you. You could lose your friends and your job. It might cost you everything. But with that life lost is the promise of a life found:

He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it. (Matthew 10:39)

Our best life is in eternity with Christ; but we can only find that life by turning our backs on our best life now.

Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. (Mark 16:24)

The New Testament, properly speaking, consists of promises and exhortations, just as the Old, properly speaking, consists of laws and threats. In the New Testament, the gospel is preached and this is just the word that offers the Spirit and grace for the remission of sins which was procured for us by Christ crucified. It is all entirely free, given by the mercy of God the Father alone as He shows His favour towards us, who are unworthy, and who deserve condemnation rather than anything else. Exhortations follows after this; and they are intended to stir up those who have obtained mercy and have been justified already, to be energetic in bringing forth the fruits of the Spirit and of the righteousness given them, to exercise themselves in love and good works, and boldly to bear the cross and all the other tribulations of this world. This is the whole sum of the New Testament.

—Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will (Revell 1957) 180.

The kids watched 101 Dalmatians last night. I didn’t watch, but I was in the next room listening, and I’ve seen it a few times before. This is not the 1961 animated one Hundred and One Dalmatians, but the 1996 live-action remake with Glenn Close as Cruella De Vil. I don’t usually care much for remakes, but this one is good. Glenn Close is a hilariously evil Cruella De Vil, and Jeff Daniels and Joely Richardson are perfectly charming as Roger and Anita. Pongo and Perdita are played by dogs, who carry off their parts quite convincingly.

It is unfortunate that the scriptwriters chose to transform Roger, originally a song writer, into a video game designer, but it did create some very funny dialogue. For example:

Cruella: And what is it that you do that allows you to support Anita in such . . . splendor?
Roger: I design video games.
Cruella, to Anita: Video games? Is he having me on?
Anita: O no, he’s very good at it. And it’s a growing business.
Cruella: Those horrible noisy things that children play on their televisions? Someone actually designs those? What a senseless thing to do with your life!

Well, this is turning into a mini movie review, which is not what I intended and is rather lame since the movie is now eleven years old. All I really wanted to do is repeat for your edification what I think is one of the funniest bits of movie dialogue I’ve ever heard.

The setting is fashion designer Cruella De Vil’s office. Present is Frederick, who appears to be an upper-management type. He, like all of Cruella’s employees, is horribly intimidated by her. Cruella is looking over some of Anita’s designs, which have spots.

Cruella: Do you like spots, Frederick?
Frederick: O, I don’t believe so, Madame. I thought we liked stripes this year.
Cruella: What kind of sycophant are you?
Frederick: What kind of sycophant would you like me to be?