This is part 3 of a series.
Part 1 :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Introduction
Part 2 :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Depravity

Once the Biblical Doctrine of Depravity is established, a Doctrine of Election that is conditioned on man’s cooperation with God becomes impossible to defend. When we see that “the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned,” it simply cannot follow that God has chosen to save anyone based upon some foreseen choice they will make in his favor. If God has, in fact, looked forward in time to see what we, of our own free choice, will do, he most certainly has seen nothing but mass rejection and rebellion. Then, predestining us according to what he saw that we would do, he has predestined every living soul to Hell. So it is a fool who takes comfort in the grace of God if that grace is conditioned on a sinner’s free choice. What, then, is election conditioned upon?

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ: According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love: Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved. —Ephesians 1:3–6

God has chosen whom he will adopt “according to the good pleasure of his will,” and for no other reason. Why does he chose whom he chooses and not someone else? Why did he choose me? Turn to Romans 9. This is the chapter in which Paul, hearing the objections of all Arminians throughout history, replies, “And you are . . . ?” He explains that it is really no one’s business why the Potter has made “one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour.” He has every right to do so. And the claim that election is conditioned on anything in the individual is thoroughly debunked:

And not only this; but when Rebecca also had conceived by one, even by our father Isaac; (For the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth;) It was said unto her, The elder shall serve the younger. As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated. —Romans 9:10–13

This passage causes us a great deal of consternation. “Esau have I hated.” The idea that God hated Esau, especially after emphasizing the point that Esau had as yet done nothing good or evil, just doesn’t seem right. Our natural reaction is to rebel against the truth of this passage and insist that it can’t really mean what it plainly says. It is just too offensive to our sense of justice. This is the kind of presupposition I was talking about in the introduction to this series that must be done away with in order to understand how God works. We have got to stop trying to make God conform to our sense of right and wrong. Justice is not a system of ethics to which God must conform. Justice is defined by what God does. If God wanted to choose his elect according to the color of their skin or by shoe size, it would be his right to do so. Instead, he has chosen not to explain himself. He has simply told us, “I am the potter. I use the vessels I have made as I see fit, and I’m not interested in your opinions about it.”

There is absolutely nothing shocking about the statement “Esau have I hated.” Esau is one of those described in my last post on depravity; so are you and so am I. Seeing how we, in our natural state, hate God and want no part of him, it is perfectly reasonable that he would hate us in return. Nothing could be more just. What should amaze us to no end is the statement “Jacob have I loved.” Jacob was also among the depraved, just as much an enemy of God as Esau, and just as much an enemy of God as we are. Why would God choose him? “. . . that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth.” Simply to show that God chooses and calls whom he will without regard for anything they do. God does not choose, as some claim, based on foreknowledge of future acts. He chooses whom he will — period.

And that‘s where I will leave it. There is so much more that could be said about election, but I did say these would be short posts, and I am trying to keep it simple.

Next :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Atonement

I believe very strongly that Christians ought to take part in the political processes in the countries in which they live, from the national to the local level. I believe in promoting right political ideology at every opportunity. And I believe that there is an ideology that is right, and that Christians cannot land anywhere they want on issues of politics and economics and still live Biblically. There is a Biblically correct view of law and government that excludes all others, and I believe Christians ought to be actively promoting that Biblical view.

But . . .

I also believe that certain segments of the church — not just the apostate Gospel-free church that tends to lean left, but the true church that still maintains the Biblical Gospel and thinks it leans right (but, in fact, does not) — have, at best, badly obscured the Gospel and severely crippled their witness in the world, and worse, in many cases have completely abandoned and actually repudiated the Gospel in favor of a political transformation of society, which, ironically, can never be affected by anything but the Gospel.

While I would hate — really hate — to provoke you to political pacifism, I would much rather see you go Amish than join the religious right (with whose goals I largely agree) and prostitute your witness to politics. The Gospel is what we are to be about. The Gospel is everything we are to be about.

Now, the reason I wrote this post today: I want you to listen to a seminar presented last week by Phil Johnson at the 2008 Shepherds Conference entitled Politically Incorrect? How to shepherd your congregation in an election. You may now download this message free of charge here, or if that fails, find it here.

This Monday, my wife and I went to the big city (Bismarck ND, population 58,333, 2nd largest city in the state!) to take care of some business and do some shopping. Traveling, which I don’t often do, is one of the few times I listen to the radio. The ride home usually brings some interesting listening.

On this occasion, we were assaulted by a “sermon” that did little more than describe, in graphic detail, the beating and crucifixion of Christ. It was the radio version of The Passion of the Christ (which I have intentionally never seen), I suppose. I would say it was a fairly accurate description, avoiding the exaggeration that often accompanies such things, and containing relatively little of the typical speculation about “what scholars think that might possibly conceivably maybe have meant.” It was pretty much just the gruesome facts of what a Roman crucifixion entailed. Unfortunately, that was all it was, and as such, I think it was pretty useless.

The message of the cross is not primarily about the physical suffering of Christ. His physical suffering is not even the greatest part of what he suffered. The most horrific agony of the cross was not the brutal scourging or the crown of thorns. It was not the nails in his hands and feet. It was not the excruciating pain of hanging from those nails. It was not any of the consequential medical complications that preachers love to expertly describe to spice up the Good Friday sermon.

Christ’s anguish, which began in Gethsemane, was not essentially physical. It was an anguish that can never be communicated through pictures or movies. It was, first and foremost, spiritual. It was the torture of being separated from the Father and bearing my sin that was the essence of his suffering.

And this is the heart of the Gospel. I am not saved because Christ suffered the pain of crucifixion. I am saved because he died bearing my sins. Jesus took the guilt of my sins upon himself and bore the full force of the Father’s holy wrath poured out upon him. He, the only begotten son of God, became the most loathsome creature in the Father’s eyes when my sins were laid on him. The most eloquent preacher cannot adequately describe the horror, so I know I can’t even come close.

As we approach Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday, let us not become focused on the cross as an instrument of torture. Let us focus on Christ as the bearer of sin — my sin, and yours, if you believe in him.

For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. —2 Corinthian 5:21.

This is part 4 of a series.
Part 1 :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Introduction
Part 2 :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Depravity
Part 3 :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Election

Update: This post was written too hastily. The author should be chastised for being so lame. Please read the comments below, especially Daniel's, for some necessary explanations.

I am a five-point Calvinist. I believe in the L in the TULIP, which stands for “Limited Atonement.” You may have noticed that I have not used the TULIP acrostic yet in this series. I haven’t used it because the terms involved are misleading, and I haven’t cared to preface every post with an explanation of why I don’t like the terms and what terms I prefer. I am making an exception in this case, because I believe the term “Limited Atonement” is so bad and causes so much misunderstanding that it is worth addressing.

Before I do that, I want to say this: I don’t believe this post, by itself, will convince anyone of the doctrine of Limited Atonement. This is a doctrine that is necessarily deduced from the other four points. To call yourself a “four-point Calvinist” and exclude this point is just bad math. It doesn’t add up. So I believe that, while this post might not stand well on its own, its conclusions should be inevitable in light of the others.

What does “limited” mean? First, it does not mean “limited in efficacy.” That would actually describe the Arminian view — Christ’s death was intended for all, but effective only for some. The Biblical view is that Christ’s death effectively atoned for every sin for which he died. If he died for your sins, atonement has been made for your sins. The penalty for your sins has been paid, and you will stand justified before God. Christ became sin for you, and his righteousness will be imputed to you. Many theologians prefer to say “Particular Atonement,” meaning that Christ died for particular sins, and actually made satisfaction for those sins.

Now, brace yourselves. I’m going to state bluntly what I have so far only implied: Christ did not die for everyone. He died for the elect only.

“Hold on!” you scream. “Christ is the propitiation for the sins of the whole world!” Of course he is; but does “the whole world” mean everyone in the world? (Here I invite the scorn of all Arminians.) I think it clearly does not. If Christ was the propitiation for the sins of every sinner, then every sinner would be justified. Every sinner is not justified. In fact, Scripture tells us plainly that most are not and will not be justified. Christ is not the propitiation for their sins.

“Well,” you might respond, “that’s convenient, isn’t it. Just redefine the terms to fit your theology.” But that’s not what I’m doing here. We could go through the entire Bible and look at every occurrence of words like all, every, none, no one, etc., and demonstrate that they all have a meaning limited by their context. They seldom have universal application. I won’t do that here, but I will challenge you to do this: analyze your own speech. See how often your use of all-inclusive words has universal application.

I always say . . .
Everyone was there.
I eat there all the time.
I’ve been everywhere, man, I’ve been everywhere . . .

I’m sure you can think of your own examples. Interpreting Scripture without regard for context — immediate context and the broader context of Scripture (analogia Scriptura) — is not interpreting it literally. Literal hermeneutics require consideration of context and literary genre. Scripture interprets Scripture, so when your interpretation of a passage contradicts the plain teaching of other passages, you’re getting it wrong.

Getting back to the atonement, it is unthinkable to me that anyone for whom Christ died is not or will not be saved. Let me conclude with a few questions: If Christ died for my sins, how can those sins remain unforgiven? When we consider the fact that God has chosen a particular people to save, why is it difficult to believe that Christ died for them in particular? How can anyone for whom Christ died spend eternity in Hell? Did Christ’s death on the cross actually atone for actual sins? And what is accomplished by insisting that Christ died for the souls in Hell?

Next :: Why I Am a Calvinist: Calling