What Is Up to Us

The church’s preaching includes the teaching about a just judgment of God. When people believe that this is true, it calls them on to live well and to run from sin by every means, since they plainly agree that whatever deserves praise or blame is up to us. So let us take up separately a few points about our freedom to choose — as pressing a problem as there is. And if we are to understand what that freedom is, we have to unfold what the word means, so that once it has been set out exactly the question in front of us can be put clearly. [a] Of things that move, some have the cause of their motion in themselves; others are moved only from outside. Only what is carried is moved from outside — pieces of wood, stones, all the matter that is held together by its condition alone. (Let us leave out of the discussion for now the way people call the flowing of bodies motion; we do not need it for the question in front of us.) Animals and plants have the cause of their motion in themselves, and so does anything held together by a nature and a soul — the class to which, they say, metals belong as well. Besides these, fire moves itself, and perhaps springs of water do too. [d]

Of the things that have the cause of their movement in themselves, some, they say, are moved out of themselves and others from themselves: what has no soul out of itself, what has a soul from itself. Things with souls are moved from themselves when an impression arises in them that calls out an impulse. And again, in certain animals impressions arise that call out an impulse, the impression-forming nature setting the impulse going in a fixed order — as in the spider the impression of weaving arises, and the impulse to weave follows, its impression-forming nature calling it on in a fixed order to this one thing and nothing else. Beyond that impression-forming nature, nothing is credited to the creature at all. And in the bee the impression arises of molding wax.

The rational animal, though, has reason as well as its impression-forming nature — reason, which judges the impressions, rejecting some and admitting others, so that the creature may be led according to them. And so, since the nature of reason contains the starting points for seeing what is honorable and what is shameful, and by following them we look at the honorable and the shameful and choose the one and turn away from the other, we deserve praise when we give ourselves to doing what is honorable, and blame when we do the opposite. [g]

We should not fail to notice, though, that something more than the nature laid down for all things is present in animals in some measure, more in some and less in others — so that what tracking dogs do, and war horses, comes somewhere near, so to speak, to what reason does. Now, falling in the way of something outside us that stirs up this or that impression in us is admittedly not one of the things up to us. But deciding to use what has happened in this way rather than that is the work of nothing except the reason in us, which, as the occasion offers, either sets us working toward the impulses that call us on to what is honorable and fitting, or turns us aside to the opposite.

But suppose someone says that the thing outside is itself of such a kind that when it comes on you like that it cannot be faced down. Let him turn his attention to his own feelings and movements, and see whether there is not an approval, an assent, and a leaning of the ruling part of him toward this or that, on account of certain plausible reasons. [i]

Take an example. A man has decided to keep self-control and to hold himself back from sexual intercourse. A woman appears and calls him on to act against his purpose. She is not the whole and sufficient cause of his setting that purpose aside. Being altogether pleased with the tickling excitement and the smoothness of the pleasure, unwilling to look it in the face and unwilling to hold to what he had decided, he does the unrestrained thing. Another man, with the very same things happening to him — a man who has taken in more instruction and has trained himself — meets the same ticklings and provocations. But his reason, strengthened further, fed by practice and made firm in its convictions toward what is honorable, or at least brought near to firmness, beats back the provocations and slackens the craving.

That being how these things come about in us, to lay the blame on what is outside and clear ourselves of the charge, declaring ourselves to be like pieces of wood and stones dragged about by whatever moves them from outside, is neither true nor fair-minded. It is the argument of a man who wants to counterfeit the very idea of freedom to choose. For if we asked him what that freedom was, he would say: that when I set out to do a certain thing, nothing from outside comes at me calling me on to the opposite. [l]

Then again, to lay the blame on the bare bodily make-up runs against what is plainly evident. Reason that disciplines and trains takes the most uncontrolled and the most savage men in hand, and, if they will follow where it urges, changes them — so that the urging and the change for the better prove very great indeed. The most self-indulgent men often become better than men who did not seem to be that sort by nature in the first place. The most savage change over into such gentleness that men who were never anything like as savage as they had been look savage in comparison with one of these men once he has changed over to mildness. And we see others, thoroughly steady and dignified men, knocked out of their dignity and their steadiness by a corrupting influence into worse company, so that they turn to self-indulgence — often beginning that self-indulgence in middle life, and falling into disorder once the unsteadiness natural to youth is already behind them.

Reason, then, shows that what is outside is not up to us, but that using it this way or the opposite way is our own work — having taken reason as judge and examiner of how we ought to meet the things that come at us from outside.

That living well is our own work, and that God asks it of us as something which does not come from him or from anyone else, nor, as some think, from fate, but is our own doing — the prophet Micah will witness to it when he says: “If it has been told you, man, what is good, or what the Lord seeks from you, other than to do justice, and to love mercy, and to be ready to walk with the Lord your God?” And Moses: “I have set before your face the way of life and the way of death: choose what is good, and walk in it.” Isaiah too: “If you are willing and listen to me, you will eat the good things of the land; but if you are not willing and do not listen to me, a sword will devour you; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken these things.” And in the Psalms: “If my people had listened to me, and Israel had walked in my ways, I would have brought their enemies to nothing and laid my hand on those who press them hard” — which shows that hearing and walking in the ways of God rested with his people. [o]

And the Savior, when he commands, “But I say to you, do not resist the evil one”; and, “Whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment”; and, “Whoever looks at a woman so as to crave her has already committed adultery with her in his heart” — and in whatever other command he gives — speaks as though keeping what is laid down is up to us; and reasonably so, since we will be liable to judgment if we break it. That is why he goes on to say: “Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a sensible man who built his house on the rock,” and the rest; “but the one who hears them and does not do them is like a foolish man who built his house on the sand,” and the rest. And when he says to those on his right, “Come to me, you who are blessed by my Father,” and the rest — “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink” — it is exceedingly clear that he gives the promises to them as men who are themselves the cause of their being praised. And on the other side, to the others, as blameworthy in comparison with them, he says: “Go, you cursed, into the eternal fire.”

And let us see how Paul too argues with us as men who are free to choose for ourselves and are the cause, in ourselves, of ruin or of salvation. “Do you despise the riches of his kindness, and his forbearance, and his patience, not knowing that the kindness of God is leading you to repentance? But by your hardness and your unrepentant heart you are storing up anger for yourself on the day of anger and revelation and righteous judgment of God, who will give back to each according to his works: to those who by endurance in good work seek glory and honor and imperishability, eternal life; but to those who act out of selfish ambition and disobey the truth and obey wrongdoing, anger and rage, trouble and hardship, on every human soul that works evil — the Jew first, and also the Greek; but glory and honor and peace to everyone who works good, the Jew first, and also the Greek.” There are, in fact, countless passages in the Scriptures that set out our freedom to choose exceedingly plainly.

But certain sayings from the Old Testament and the New pull toward the opposite — that keeping the commands and being saved, or breaking them and being lost, is not up to us. So let us bring some of them forward and look at how they are resolved, in order that from the ones we bring forward anyone may pick out for himself, in the same way, all the passages that seem to take our freedom to choose away, and may look into what is said toward resolving them. [t]

What is said about Pharaoh has stirred up many. God announces about him, more than once, “But I will harden Pharaoh’s heart.” For if he is hardened by God, and sins because he is hardened, he is not himself the cause of the sin to himself; and if that is so, then Pharaoh is not free to choose. And someone will say that in the same way those who perish are not free to choose, and will not perish by their own doing. What is said in Ezekiel could stir someone the same way: “I will take their hearts of stone away from them and put in hearts of flesh, so that they may walk in my statutes and keep my instructions” — as though God gave the walking in his commands and the keeping of his instructions by taking out the hindrance, the heart of stone, and putting the better thing in, the heart of flesh.

Let us look also at the passage in the Gospel, at what the Savior answers those who asked why he speaks to the crowds in parables. “So that,” he says, “seeing they may not see, and hearing they may hear and not understand; in case they should turn back and it be forgiven them.” And the passage in Paul: “It is not of the one who wills, nor of the one who runs, but of God who shows mercy.” And in other places: “Both the willing and the working are from God.” And: “So then he has mercy on whom he wills, and whom he wills he hardens. You will say to me then, Why does he still find fault? For who has resisted his purpose?” And: “The persuasion is from the one who calls, and not from us.” “On the contrary, man, who are you to answer God back? Will the thing formed say to the one who formed it, Why did you make me like this? Or does the potter not have authority over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?” These passages are enough on their own to throw the crowd into confusion, as though a man were not free to choose, but it were God who saves and destroys whomever he wishes.

Let us begin, then, with what is said about Pharaoh — that he was hardened by God so that he would not send the people away. Along with it we will examine the apostle’s words as well: “So then he has mercy on whom he wills, and whom he wills he hardens.” [w]

Some of those who hold other opinions make use of these passages, themselves also all but doing away with freedom to choose, since they bring in natures that are perishing and cannot be saved, and other natures that are being saved and cannot possibly be lost. Pharaoh, they say, belonged to a perishing nature, and that is why he is hardened by God, who has mercy on the spiritual and hardens the ones made of dust. Let us see what they can possibly mean. We will ask them whether Pharaoh was of the nature made of dust; and when they answer, we will say that a man of the nature made of dust is disobedient to God in every case. But if he is disobedient, what need is there for his heart to be hardened — and that not once, but many times over? Unless it is this: since it was possible for him to obey, and he certainly would have obeyed, not being made of dust, once the wonders and signs had shamed him into it, God needs him disobedient to a greater degree, so as to display his mighty acts for the salvation of the many; and that is why he hardens his heart.

This is what we will say to them first, to overturn their supposition that Pharaoh belonged to a perishing nature. And the same must be said to them about the apostle’s statement. Whom does God harden? Those who perish, as though they would obey if they were not hardened? Or plainly those who will be saved, because they do not belong to a perishing nature? And on whom does he have mercy? Is it on those who are going to be saved? Then what need have they of a second mercy, once they have been made ready to be saved and are bound to be blessed on account of their nature? Unless it is this: since they can incur destruction if they do not receive mercy, they receive mercy so that they may not take the destruction they are open to, but may stand instead among those who are saved. So much for those people.

To those who think they have understood the word “hardened,” we must put the difficulty. What do they mean when they say that God hardens a heart by working in it, and with what purpose does he do it? Let them keep to the idea of a God who is, in the sound sense of the word, just and good. And if they will not have that, let it be granted them for the present that he is just. Then let them show how the good and just God — or the merely just God — can be seen to be just in hardening the heart of a man who perishes because he is hardened; and how the just God becomes the cause of destruction and of disobedience, when the men he punishes are punished for being hardened and for disobeying him. [x]

And why does he find fault with him, saying, “But you are not willing to send my people away”; “Look, I am striking every firstborn in Egypt, and your own firstborn” — and everything else that is recorded as spoken by God through Moses to Pharaoh? For a man who believes that the Scriptures are true and that God is just must, if he is fair-minded, work hard at showing how in words like these God is to be clearly understood as just. If someone were to put his name down openly, bare-headed, for the position that the Maker of the world is evil, other words would be needed to answer him.

But since they say that they are disposed toward him as toward a just God, and we as toward one who is good and just at once, let us consider how the good and just God could harden Pharaoh’s heart. See, then, whether by an illustration the apostle used in the letter to the Hebrews we are able to show how by one working God has mercy on one man and hardens another — not setting out to harden, but acting through a good purpose, upon which hardening follows because of what underlies the wickedness, the evil in the men themselves; and so he is said to harden the man who is hardened. [z]

“Ground,” he says, “that drinks the rain which often comes on it, and bears a crop useful to those for whom it is worked, has a share in blessing from God; but ground that brings out thorns and thistles is worthless and near to a curse, and its end is burning.” So there is one working, the working of the rain; and, the working of the rain being one, the ground that is farmed bears fruit while the ground that is neglected and left waste bears thorns. Now it might seem irreverent for the one who sends the rain to say, “I made the fruit and the thorns that are in the ground.” Yet irreverent as it may be, it is true. If no rain had fallen, there would have been neither fruit nor thorns; but with the rain falling at the right time and in measure, both came up.

So the ground that drank the rain which often came on it and yet brought out thorns and thistles is worthless and near to a curse. The good of the rain came down even on the poorer ground; but the ground itself, being neglected and unfarmed, sprouted thorns and thistles. In the same way, then, the wonders God does are like the rain, while men’s differing choices are like the farmed ground and the neglected ground — both of one nature, as earth is.