Practical reflections on free will and divine sovereignty – Part 2: Get in the game

For those of you who may be new readers to the blog or happened to miss my last entry, you may want to refer back to Part 1 of the series from a few weeks ago. In it I attempted to telegraph my purpose in offering some thoughts, over the course of several installments, on what can be a complicated and heavy issue. As noted, for our purposes here, I’m more interested in being practical than theoretical (hence the title above). In other words, let’s assume that this is an issue that won’t go away anytime soon and consider, “What do I do about it in the meantime?”

I titled part 1, “Why Pray?” And if you noticed, I didn’t really answer that question specifically. Instead, I used it as a way of highlighting the breadth and depth of this issue. For what it’s worth, I believe that honest questions often have a way of saying far more than we might think, so I thought it beneficial to simply respect the question and let it marinate, if you will. For part 2, I’d like to return to that question by offering what I think is at least part of the answer: to “get in the game,” or, as Nike would put it, “Just Do It.” Sure, there’s a sense here that to pray is a simple act of obedience. That is, I’m commanded to pray, so if I don’t do it, it’s disobedient. And that’s true—and for some of us, it may be the only motivation we need to be persistent in prayer. But I think there’s even more to this than simple obedience.

A few months ago, while studying the book of John, something struck me. I was in John 11, which relates the account of Lazarus’ resurrection by the work of Jesus. It is a wonderful passage, with many layers of truth and meaning. In fact, I wonder if it is precisely this great quantity of truth which prevented me from making this observation before. Now, there is no question that Jesus is the one who performed the miracle, but if you look closely at the text, you’ll notice that He wasn’t the only one involved. He commanded someone else to “take away the stone” and commanded another to “loose him, and let him go.” Stated simply, Jesus did it (we might even say he ordained it), but in performing the miracle, he included the actions of individuals in His act. At this I was forced to pause and reflect that if I were there that day I’d have had to be a fool not to participate in such a miracle. The creator of the universe just asked me to have a part in raising a dead man to life, and I’m too overcome with confusion as to who’s responsible for the miracle to be Christ’s agent? That would be crazy.

Prayer isn’t all that different really. If I’m not doing it I’m not just disobedient, I’m really missing out. I can either wonder all day if my prayers really make a difference, or I can get in the game – be a participant in God’s work in the world. Remember, God does all things for His glory. The resurrection of Lazarus was no exception (see verses 4, 40); neither are our everyday lives (1 Cor. 10:31). So for all my fellow “Christian Hedonists” (as John Piper would say), think of it this way: when we pray, we participate in the Glory of God. What a joy. What a privilege.

Practical reflections on free will and divine sovereignty – Part 1: Why Pray?

Why pray? Or for that matter, why do anything at all? God’s in control, right? And doesn’t He know the end from the beginning? And aren’t all of my days already written down? So if God is in control, knows everything, has a plan that can’t be changed, and one really believes all of that to be true, it seems pretty evident to me at least that the believer of said propositions might experience some serious struggles. “Struggles,” in fact, may be putting it mildly.

It’s a subject that is near and dear to me in some ways. For starters, there is no question that these themes run rampant all through Scripture, so being a student of the Word means that this issue can’t easily be set aside. I can’t just think, “Oh I’ll get around to it someday.” I need some answers here!

But beyond the doctrine, beyond the technical jargon, beyond even the answers, is what I think really cuts us to the core—the heart stuff. So in regards to all the restless nights, the frustration and doubt, and even that parched-in-spirit feeling—the feeling that nothing you do or say really matters, that food might as well be tasteless, that music might not as well be beautiful, and that prayer is virtually useless—I first just want to say one thing: I know what that feels like. Personally, I know those restless nights all too well, and I’ve seen up close just how deep and dark these matters can be for some people whom I dearly love. I know it hurts. I know it’s hard.

The interplay of man’s choice with God’s decree isn’t just a problem needing solving. It’s a core issue with massive effect both doctrinally and spiritually, and because of its weight, well . . . let’s just say that countless trees have been felled in the service of men wiser and more learned than I seeking to find “the answer.” I doubt I have much to contribute on the theological side. Yet still, I wish that perhaps I could provide some encouragement, and even offer a few challenges for anyone who may be wondering, “So how does this all work exactly?”

Disclaimer: I won’t actually be telling you how it works.

Instead, I’d like to do something a little different. I’d like to move from the theoretical to the practical. You see, I’ve done the work, and you should too (in fact, I’d be happy to point out some helpful resources should you so desire). And in doing the work I’ve discovered some things, even gotten some answers that I’m pretty satisfied with, but there is something else of which I’ve become convinced: not having the perfect answer doesn’t have to destabilize my walk with the Lord.

And this is precisely what I hope to get across: that it’s a good thing that God is sovereign—so let us rejoice that He can never be surprised or upstaged. It’s a good thing He gave us free will, for in that gift He became the author of freedom—so let us thank Him! It’s control tempered with grace. It’s freedom without chaos. Good for God, good for us.

Obviously, this is merely an introduction, a “lay of the land” as it were. I look forward to offering a few simple reflections in the weeks to come. I hope they help.

—Dan Hermiz