The Evangelical Universalist Forum

Free Will: Its Essential Nature and Implications

My final thoughts on this topic. This summary touches on nearly all the deep issues of this thread, and I wanted to have it in this thread for whatever person may happen to read through it in the future.

I think a case can be made that if one understands the concept of syngery, it can go a long way to giving a solution to some of the difficulties in a universalist theodicy.

To put it simply, syngery or syngergism is the idea that God has left a certain amount of what goes on in the universe up to his creatures and their free choices. For example, the fall (for those who believe in it) was conditional upon what Adam and Eve chose to do. Or to be more trivial: whether or not you do well on an exam will depend in large part upon how much studying you put into it.

Now a key in understanding syngery completely is knowing that God himself, even before the various free acts of his creatures are made, has decided from all eternity what the particular effects of those free acts will be. The creatures do not unilaterally determine the consequences of their choices. For instance, it is God who has decided if you don’t study well for an exam (unless you happen to be a particular genius), you will not do as well as you could. Likewise with the fall. God, then, has “predetermined” or “predestined” the consequences of various freely performed acts, many of which (all?) are not perfectly foreseen by the actor. I think this is the most consistent and logical way to understand predestination.

What is so often missed in theodicies and talks of free will is the fact that neither the creature, nor God, singly determine the outcome of an event that involves the free choice of the creature. What this entails is that we are all the time trying to understand the consequences of sin and righteousness from an “either-or” perspective. We look at an event and say “why didn’t God prevent that from happening” or “look at the good God has done”. But if syngerism is true, then there are certain events in which it is incomplete to say only what God or what his free creation as done. Both God and the free agent contribute to the making of the unique, otherwise impossible event. Which waterdrop comes together to form the streak on the windowpane? When two soldiers are leaning against one another’s back, which one holds the other up? God is obviously “logically prior” to his creation, but one of the abilities he has given it is to be co-creators with him; to be actual, real agents. This involves a setting aside of his omnipotence and his ability to unilaterally determine the course of whatever events he has left up to this cooperative act.

The “story” of the universe, then, involves decisions and courses of events which are really up to the freedom of his creatures. On this view, we can clearly see that events which go on “outside” in the real world are up to us. Whether or not I do well on the exam is in large part up to me. And whether or not I’m late for work depends on if I wake up early in time. We can easily understand, then, that for our freedom to be real, there must be established, determinate consequences attached to our acts. Here an essential point in the doctrine of freedom is misunderstood by many people. Having freedom does NOT mean that every single act we perform, along with every consequence, is up to our freedom. Each choice itself DEPENDS on certain factors which are not, themselves, freely chosen. If I choose to smoke, I cannot also choose to avoid a loss in lung function and maybe cancer. So having “free will” does not mean having freedom with respect to everything. Indeed, having freedom concerning everything would be the same thing as not having freedom at all. Imagine a world in which not only my acts, but also the consequences of them were totally up to my free choice. It may at first not look so bad. Perhaps you think you’d choose to eat all the foods you like and still be in top physical shape. Or maybe you’d want to have riches and therefore not need to work. But what about your very sense of happiness? What if your very value system was such that it itself depended on your choice? That is, say in the middle of eating a delicious apple you thought “should I go on finding this delicious”? Or, while warmly thinking of someone you love, think “should I go on getting pleasure out of loving this person”? Soon, you see, we would lose all motive to choose anything at all. In fact we would go mad. If we do not start off with intial desires – with an initial constitution and tendency – our choices would never get off the ground.

And here is where I think the doctrine of syngery can answer some of Universalism’s biggest challenges. Some of the “effects” which are not up to us have to do with our character or personality – in fact, with our conciousness itself. The same way in which a person exercises his muscles and thereby builds strength, so too a person who makes choices builds his own self. But the difference – the crucial difference – is this: God has determined our minds such that even our bad acts can build for us good characters.

This is really seen most plainly in our feelings of guilt and shame. We choose to sin and yet we later feel bad about it. Do we really think that this feeling bad is itself something we have chosen? We may have freely chosen to “give the last word” in an argument, not to win it, but simply to give one last hurtful quip. “You would say that; just look at what you did to so and so.” This evil act is what we choose. The further remorse, the sinking feeling afterward, is not. I think that’s just the way God has determined our free acts to effect us. If we would have resisted that last quip, we would never have felt the bad feelings. That, too, is a law of our consciousness which God has determined. But these laws are organic in the sense that their manifestation is not unlilaterally determined by God. They are determined by him in terms of the raw “datum” or consequential result, but what acts within those laws, I believe, and what causes one effect rather than another to occur, is our freedom.
Now, it will help in passing to say that we are always making such free choices which, little by little, go to “form” for us our character. Thus it may actually be the case that the last quip in the example above was not itself freely performed. It may have come from an ALREADY MADE character. We may have already, slowly but surely, by degrees ever so small, been freely giving in to feelings of resentment, jealousy, and hatred. And one of the consequences of that may be the sort of character that, when in such a situation, prefers to make the quip. Like the alcoholic, eventually after so many drinks he no longer freely chooses what he does. The fact he has gotten do drunk, however, comes from his initial choice. This, by the way, is exactly what I think happened in the case of Peter and Jesus. Jesus was able to predict Peter’s denial because he was able to see just what sort of person he had freely become. In this way, then, does predestination operate. God does not predetermine the acts of us except insofar as he has predetermined what sort of people we will become, if we make such choices. The “if’s” are up to the freedom of the creature; the effects have been determined by God. (That of course doesn’t mean God wants a creature to be bad!) It may not be possible to say exactly when we are no longer free, but it is safe to say – indeed I think experience vouches for us all here – that we experience our freedom and bondage in varying degrees. The essential point to remember is not “at what exact point” this occurs (which may not be possible to our senses), but simply that it does occur. Libertarian freedom gives way to compatibilist freedom. (This, by the way, makes a lot of sense of certain things happening to us which dramatically change our psychology: you’ll notice often someone with a brush with death will have an irresistible new appreciation of life. This feeling is not something he “freely chose” to have.)

Here, then, is the saving grace (no pun intended) of the above kind of syngery and universalism. God has determined that certain types of free acts will ultimately result in what Tom Talbott has called a “trump card”. To put it simply: whether or not we are saved, come to a true and full knowledge of ourselves and God, or are reconciled to him does not depend on which free choice we make. The road getting there certainly does. We can make it easier or harder, both on ourselves and those we love. But God has placed a sort of safety net for those who are obstinate.?

If we can believe the feelings of guilt we have when we sin are graces from God, conscious states which we cannot control but which nevertheless are “part of us” because we really have contributed to their existence by freely sinning, then we can believe that there is a point at which God similarly overwhelms the sinner with the truth of his horrid condition such that resistance is no longer possible. The time for libertarian freedom in such moments is over, and the time for compatibilist freedom has given way. George MacDonald, and also, I believe, Tom Talbott, think this final state just before the irresistible trump card is the “Outer Darkness”. That seems to me very likely. I think it may also be the “aeonian lake of fire”. But whatever we call it, the effect is the same. A sort of libertarianly driven, compatibilist transformation such that the sinner is sorry for his sins, sees himself as a sinner, and is reconciled to God irresistibly, but it is none the less himselfdoing these things because his freedom is what has given rise to this new conscious state of mind.

(Even here, though, we may should say more. For isn’t it the case that, for all those in heaven who are no longer tempted to sin, God has already determined them to have this sort of character based on their prior acts?)

The main objection to this doctrine is that it seems to imply that God could have, from the very beginning, ensured that none of his creatures ever sinned by always playing the trump card. But this objection – which I used to find convincing – stems from not really understanding the doctrine of syngery. That is, God’s decision regarding what cards He plays is dependent on what his free creatures do. So he couldn’t have “just played” the trump card from the get go unless he didn’t want a synergistic creation.

The last question then is why he apparently did want one. I think it’s because ultimately, if God had determined every event his creation did, the creation would be functionally equivalent to his own self; it would entail pantheism, and the idea of “personhood” would be meaningless in such a universe. If I hold my hand over a child’s and force it to draw exactly what it is I want, I have robbed that child of any agency concerning the picture. In fact the child has not drawn anything for me at all. I have simply drawn something for myself. Now imagine not only the child’s hand, but its mental states, its intentionality, its very consciousness was similarly controlled by me. Would not the child as a separate person cease to exist altogether?

There are partial answers to why God wants a syngeristic creation – such as “it is the only way love is possible”. But these really only hover around this deeper point. God, I think, wants to create rational beings separate from himself, which are true agents, real live souls and identities. This is why he allows our freedom to partially shape the story of both the universe and our own psyches. If it did not shape anything, what would we in fact be? It is not so much that love, goodness, or joy aren’t possible without libertarian freedom constantly fueling them. It is that there would not be an actual soul, an independent center of consciousness, to be aware of them and metaphysically connect to them and identify itself with them. After all, if all events were determined, not only our outward acts but our inward states of consciousness, would it even be possible to distinguish between ourselves and anything else? If we never experienced ourselves causing anything, could we have any idea of ourself, or any idea of something else – be it God or another soul? m not so sure we could. It seems I only know I am not another because there are certain acts going on which I have not caused or “contributed to”. If there is no difference between “I am doing this” and “this is happening to me” is it even possible to formulate the concept of “myself”? What is true of the physical world seems to me equally true of the spiritual. All the grace and love that flow through me may no doubt be dependent on certain things I do, but at the same time I am not the root cause of these things anymore than the fact that I am breathing makes me the cause of oxygen. As Tom Talbott and Lewis have suggested, freedom it seems is an essential element to the emergence of self-conscious beings.

Another and perhaps simpler way to defend the reason behind God’s syngery is to say that God wants it because he wants a universe in which important things really DO depend on individual beings. Thus it is not freedom as such which is valuable in his eyes; but the ability to do great good, and subsequently great evil. It is not the freedom to simply choose names for your children; but the ability to abundantly bless posterity or coldy curse them – to make their lives easier or harder. It is not the ability of choosing chocolate cake or vanilla for desert, but in being able to provide supper itself for those who depend on you. It seems no more possible to be able to do the one good thing without simultaneously entailing the ability to do something bad. For is it possible for someone to really do great good unless the opposite (not doing great good) is possible? And what can be the opposite of “not doing great good” but something “less good” – i.e. something evil?

These, then, are my thoughts concerning synergy and how I think understanding that actual conscious states themselves are the syngeristic result of our** freedom and God’s predestining will; and how he has not made the universe such that the final result of any of our free acts is eternal hell or annihilation. The consciousness of one who experienced the outer darkness will no doubt be different in heaven than the one who didn’t need such punishment, but the two will still be in a final state of union with God. Their “looking back” over their lives will be different; their roads may involve an infinite variation, what makes up their heaven, will no doubt be different mental images (and won’t everyone’s? The man with no children will have a different heaven than the man with twelve). But everyone’s destination, I believe, will be the same.

**by “our” freedom I mean the whole creation’s. I believe we inherit much of our psychological tendency genetically. I therefore believe that our conscious states are not only the result of our individual freedom. We are impacted by the whole history of our race. This can be seen even on a small scale: the young man who’s father is abusive or absent may be prone to fits of recklessness or violence.

Edit - I want to say that I think the Fall may be an instance in which our wills are compatibilistically affected by the libertarian choices of another, so much so that we may all unavoidably sin. But I think at the same time that we are thus “able” to be so connected and affected by Adam (and others) because we are all really somehow connected to one another. We really are one; we really are the same. I do believe all the deep expositions of original sin have taken note of us sinning “in” Adam, however they’ve tried to explain it (eg legal fiction). The view I’ve expressed above seeks to explicate the consequences of St. Paul’s belief.

Here is an analysis (not mine) of Aristotle’s take on a portion of the topic of this thread. I think it’s worthwhile reading.

  1. Akrasia

In VII.1–10 Aristotle investigates character traits—continence and incontinence—that are not as blameworthy as the vices but not as praiseworthy as the virtues. (We began our discussion of these qualities in section 4.) The Greek terms are akrasia (“incontinence”; literally: “lack of mastery”) and enkrateia (“continence”; literally “mastery”). An akratic person goes against reason as a result of some pathos (“emotion,” “feeling”). Like the akratic, an enkratic person experiences a feeling that is contrary to reason; but unlike the akratic, he acts in accordance with reason. His defect consists solely in the fact that, more than most people, he experiences passions that conflict with his rational choice. The akratic person has not only this defect, but has the further flaw that he gives in to feeling rather than reason more often than the average person.

Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of akrasia: impetuosity (propeteia) and weakness (astheneia). The person who is weak goes through a process of deliberation and makes a choice; but rather than act in accordance with his reasoned choice, he acts under the influence of a passion. By contrast, the impetuous person does not go through a process of deliberation and does not make a reasoned choice; he simply acts under the influence of a passion. At the time of action, the impetuous person experiences no internal conflict. But once his act has been completed, he regrets what he has done. One could say that he deliberates, if deliberation were something that post-dated rather than preceded action; but the thought process he goes through after he acts comes too late to save him from error.

It is important to bear in mind that when Aristotle talks about impetuosity and weakness, he is discussing chronic conditions. The impetuous person is someone who acts emotionally and fails to deliberate not just once or twice but with some frequency; he makes this error more than most people do. Because of this pattern in his actions, we would be justified in saying of the impetuous person that had his passions not prevented him from doing so, he would have deliberated and chosen an action different from the one he did perform.

The two kinds of passions that Aristotle focuses on, in his treatment of akrasia, are the appetite for pleasure and anger. Either can lead to impetuosity and weakness. But Aristotle gives pride of place to the appetite for pleasure as the passion that undermines reason. He calls the kind of akrasia caused by an appetite for pleasure “unqualified akrasia”—or, as we might say, akrasia “full stop”; akrasia caused by anger he considers a qualified form of akrasia and calls it akrasia “with respect to anger”. We thus have these four forms of akrasia: (A) impetuosity caused by pleasure, (B) impetuosity caused by anger, © weakness caused by pleasure (D) weakness caused by anger. It should be noticed that Aristotle’s treatment of akrasia is heavily influenced by Plato’s tripartite division of the soul in the Republic. Plato holds that either the spirited part (which houses anger, as well as other emotions) or the appetitive part (which houses the desire for physical pleasures) can disrupt the dictates of reason and result in action contrary to reason. The same threefold division of the soul can be seen in Aristotle’s approach to this topic.

Although Aristotle characterizes akrasia and enkrateia in terms of a conflict between reason and feeling, his detailed analysis of these states of mind shows that what takes place is best described in a more complicated way. For the feeling that undermines reason contains some thought, which may be implicitly general. As Aristotle says, anger “reasoning as it were that one must fight against such a thing, is immediately provoked” (1149a33–4). And although in the next sentence he denies that our appetite for pleasure works in this way, he earlier had said that there can be a syllogism that favors pursuing enjoyment: “Everything sweet is pleasant, and this is sweet” leads to the pursuit of a particular pleasure (1147a31–30). Perhaps what he has in mind is that pleasure can operate in either way: it can prompt action unmediated by a general premise, or it can prompt us to act on such a syllogism. By contrast, anger always moves us by presenting itself as a bit of general, although hasty, reasoning.

But of course Aristotle does not mean that a conflicted person has more than one faculty of reason. Rather his idea seems to be that in addition to our full-fledged reasoning capacity, we also have psychological mechanisms that are capable of a limited range of reasoning. When feeling conflicts with reason, what occurs is better described as a fight between feeling-allied-with-limited-reasoning and full-fledged reason. Part of us—reason—can remove itself from the distorting influence of feeling and consider all relevant factors, positive and negative. But another part of us—feeling or emotion—has a more limited field of reasoning—and sometimes it does not even make use of it.

Although “passion” is sometimes used as a translation of Aristotle’s word pathos (other alternatives are “emotion” and “feeling”), it is important to bear in mind that his term does not necessarily designate a strong psychological force. Anger is a pathos whether it is weak or strong; so too is the appetite for bodily pleasures. And he clearly indicates that it is possible for an akratic person to be defeated by a weak pathos—the kind that most people would easily be able to control (1150a9-b16). So the general explanation for the occurrence of akrasia cannot be that the strength of a passion overwhelms reason. Aristotle should therefore be acquitted of an accusation made against him by J.L. Austin in a well-known footnote to his paper, “A Plea For Excuses.” Plato and Aristotle, he says, collapsed all succumbing to temptation into losing control of ourselves—a mistake illustrated by this example: “I am very partial to ice cream, and a bombe is served divided into segments corresponding one to one with the persons at High Table: I am tempted to help myself to two segments and do so, thus succumbing to temptation and even conceivably (but why necessarily?) going against my principles. But do I lose control of myself? Do I raven, do I snatch the morsels from the dish and wolf them down, impervious to the consternation of my colleagues? Not a bit of it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and even with finesse.” (Philosophical Papers, 1961, p. 146.) With this, Aristotle can agree: the pathos for the bombe can be a weak one, and in some people that will be enough to get them to act in a way that is disapproved by their reason at the very time of action.

What is most remarkable about Aristotle’s discussion of akrasia is that he defends a position close to that of Socrates. When he first introduces the topic of akrasia, and surveys some of the problems involved in understanding this phenomenon, he says (1145b25–8) that Socrates held that there is no akrasia, and he describes this as a thesis that clearly conflicts with the appearances (phainomena). Since he says that his goal is to preserve as many of the appearances as possible (1145b2–7), it may come as a surprise that when he analyzes the conflict between reason and feeling, he arrives at the conclusion that in a way Socrates was right after all (1147b13–17). For, he says, the person who acts against reason does not have what is thought to be unqualified knowledge; in a way he has knowledge, but in a way does not.

Aristotle explains what he has in mind by comparing akrasia to the condition of other people who might be described as knowing in a way, but not in an unqualified way. His examples are people who are asleep, mad, or drunk; he also compares the akratic to a student who has just begun to learn a subject, or an actor on the stage (1147a10–24). All of these people, he says, can utter the very words used by those who have knowledge; but their talk does not prove that they really have knowledge, strictly speaking.

These analogies can be taken to mean that the form of akrasia that Aristotle calls weakness rather than impetuosity always results from some diminution of cognitive or intellectual acuity at the moment of action. The akratic says, at the time of action, that he ought not to indulge in this particular pleasure at this time. But does he know or even believe that he should refrain? Aristotle might be taken to reply: yes and no. He has some degree of recognition that he must not do this now, but not full recognition. His feeling, even if it is weak, has to some degree prevented him from completely grasping or affirming the point that he should not do this. And so in a way Socrates was right. When reason remains unimpaired and unclouded, its dictates will carry us all the way to action, so long as we are able to act.

But Aristotle’s agreement with Socrates is only partial, because he insists on the power of the emotions to rival, weaken or bypass reason. Emotion challenges reason in all three of these ways. In both the akratic and the enkratic, it competes with reason for control over action; even when reason wins, it faces the difficult task of having to struggle with an internal rival. Second, in the akratic, it temporarily robs reason of its full acuity, thus handicapping it as a competitor. It is not merely a rival force, in these cases; it is a force that keeps reason from fully exercising its power. And third, passion can make someone impetuous; here its victory over reason is so powerful that the latter does not even enter into the arena of conscious reflection until it is too late to influence action.

Haven’t had time to read it yet actually. I’ve been working through The Jesus Driven Life and I’ve been too busy putting out fires (or at least keeping them at bay) to get to any more reading in unfortunately.

Technically speaking, it would be possible to argue that such a world could not be created. For a thorough treatment of this, you should read Tom Talbot’s book, The Inescapable Love of God. He addresses exactly this question at length and with great clarity and thoroughness. It would be seriously redundant for me to do that here even if I were competent to do that.

I think we can still have free will whether or not God chooses to observe our choices. As to whether He knows, I personally don’t see how He could keep from knowing, or why, for that matter. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t argue the point. It’s more a gut feeling than anything and I could well be wrong.

If I remember/understand correctly, middle knowledge means that God knows everything that would/could have happened in any circumstances. If that’s correct, then I think God could do that. But maybe there’s something here I’m not comprehending correctly. I realize that the implications here would be of mind-boggling knowledge impossible for us to even begin to understand. Yet nothing is too hard for God.

Out of curiosity, why not?

I think that God created the world via the big bang and some form of evolution. Why? Because that was the only way to create free persons who are OTHER than Him. If He directly made us and dictated every moment of our lives, dictated our personalities, dictated where we were born and to whom and etc., etc., etc., we couldn’t be real. We couldn’t be free. We would be dolls or robots or completely under His thumb. We have to be permitted to grow into freedom, and in that process, we have to be permitted to fail very, very badly. Otherwise, if He engineered each of us just so, we could never be actual persons.

We are not, any of us, free. We do not have free will–yet. We came into this world as slaves to the flesh. I suppose you could loosely translate “the flesh” to instinct. Included in that, selfishness. Someone said, “That which was necessary for our development now stands in the way of our progress.” Evolution is a profoundly selfish process, but I believe it was necessary, in order for us to develop into conscious beings who are NOT automatons. God had to stand at arm’s length and allow us to act on one another and be acted on by our environment, largely without interfering. Otherwise we would not be the sort of life that He wants–offspring, not automatons–people, not things.

In the right time, Jesus came to lift us up out of that process, to set our feet on higher ground, to make it possible for us to be made free from the dominion of the fleshly nature. We could not lift ourselves. He came to provide for us to be raised up out of the natural and into the supernatural nature of God. That’s my understanding. I know it’s only rudimentary but at present it’s the best I can do.

As an example: Babies come into this world utterly selfish. They are slaves to their instincts, and because of the early stage of their development, they have pretty much no free will. They can cry and they can breathe and they can wave their little arms around. How much of that is the result of free choice could be debated, but I doubt very much of it is other than instinctual. They have no free will because they are incapable of exercising free will. As they grow, they have more choices. They can choose to sit up. They can choose to obey or disobey simple commands. They can smile and babble and be good and be naughty. They can NOT choose to take the family car out for a joy ride. If they attempt to play in the street, their parents will curtail their free will. If their parents do NOT curtail their free will, we would accuse them of neglect.

God’s picture is a bit wider, I think. While He will permit us to do all sorts of horrible things with dire consequences for this life–and also allow us to suffer such things–He will NOT allow us to inflict eternal damage on ourselves or on others, nor will He allow others to permanently damage us. As we become more mature and more like Jesus, our wills become freer. I do not believe that when we die, God suddenly makes it physically/spiritually impossible for us to sin. I DO believe that at some point, it WILL become impossible for us to sin–not because God takes away our free will, but because sin will have become so abhorrent to us that it will be psychologically impossible for us to sin.

Most people want happiness. We are tempted to sin (to do selfish things that hurt other people) because we believe that doing those things will help us to become happy. This is a lie, but we are caught in that lie. Most of us here hate sin. We hate the sins that we ourselves cannot seem to quit doing. Paul said that if he did the things he hated, it was no longer him doing it, but rather sin that dwelt in him. “Oh wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from this body of death?” He cries out in anguish. Then he answers: 'I thank my God, through my Lord Jesus Christ." Jesus came to set us free from sin. THAT is the next step in our journey toward freedom–freedom from sin. Once we are free from sin, we will still be theoretically capable of sin, but we will hate it so thoroughly that we never will do it, nor want to do it. We will then have true free will. As of yet, we do not have it.

God is MAKING us free, but we have a long way to go before we have anything approaching real freedom.

So you see, when you speak of God “creating violent criminals,” that makes no sense to me. God didn’t create a violent criminal. He created a world in which a woman gave birth to a child who eventually fell into a life of violent crime. To say that God knows the circumstances in which He will eventually reconcile that violent criminal to Himself in no way infringes on the criminal’s free will. The criminal is a slave to sin. In order to end that slavery, it is necessary to set him free. If he doesn’t wish to be set free, then he needs two things: 1) He needs knowledge–he needs to know that the path to his blessedness lies in Christ, and 2) He needs to be sane. If #1 is fulfilled, and he now knows that the path to his own blessedness is freedom from sin–which leads to death–yet he still refuses to be set free, then he is insane. If an insane man refuses to be cured, curing him doesn’t violate his free will, because he HAS no free will to violate. He is insane, and that insanity renders him incapable of free choice. Yes he can make choices, but they will not be free choices. In order to provide this man with free choice, God must heal the insanity and make him rational and knowledgeable. Once he is sufficiently informed and sufficiently rational, he will choose blessedness freely. God knows how to bring him to that place, and bringing him to that place does not violate his free will, because until he has knowledge and rationality, he is incapable of having truly free will.

That’s my take on the issue. You may or may not think it has merit, but perhaps it will help you to think your way through this and come to conclusions that seem right to you and the Holy Spirit.

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Well, I really don’t know much about middle knowledge. But I’m a big fan of middle earth . But folks might find this interesting from the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy - Middle Knowledge. So is the term “middle knowledge” the preacher article used the same as the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy uses? Let me make a brief quote from the encyclopedia :smiley:

https://sophmoet.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/free-will.jpg

It might also be informative for everyone to read the encyclopedia’s articles on Free Will and Theological Determinism

http://www.markstivers.com/wordpress/comics/2008-08-16%20Your%20eyes%20say%20free%20will.gif

Of course - when I have time - it might be interesting to read through the opinions expressed in this forum thread. Then see how they compare and contrast, with historical and contemporary positions, of professional theologians and philosophers. :smiley:

To which I might reply, only if you are free to do so. :laughing:

Good stuff, Randy. :slight_smile:

Qaz, I agree it isn’t necessary for God to have middle knowledge in order for my scenario to work, and I even kind of begin to see (perhaps) why you may feel that God using such knowledge would negate free will. If He could just (metaphorically) push this or that button to make us react in certain ways, that would definitely negate free will. I don’t think though, that He could logistically make that work together and still maintain minute control of all creatures, nor do I think He DOES do that. I do think it’s reasonable to suppose that He might have, using His middle knowledge, created the best (or least bad) possible world in which all persons would eventually come to salvation. That is to say, the world in which the least possible suffering would need to be allowed. That wouldn’t allow minute control of each person’s life, because any “tweaks” would inevitably ripple out and change all sorts of things. God might need to MAKE tweaks from time to time, as a part of the whole creation process–to keep the world in the track He had chosen. I think tweaks of that kind would have to have been a part of the original plan, though.

The other option is that God is flying by the seat of His pants (not meaning any disrespect). He doesn’t know (or doesn’t choose to know) exactly how things are going to work out. Nevertheless, what He DOES know is that He can eventually make it all work for everyone and bring His creation to a state of completion, maturity, and perfection. I held to that idea for a while, but the whole nature of time thing made me change my mind. Either way, it doesn’t matter much for us little protozoa. What we REALLY need to know is that Father has it handled. He’s capable of pulling this off, and all we have to do is trust Him. :wink: So whether you’re right and I’m wrong or vice versa or (much more likely) we’re BOTH way off :wink: He’s got it covered. :smiley:

Actually, your questions raised more questions for me:

The problem with middle knowledge is that Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy - Middle Knowledge gives objections, which are needed to first be addressed. How do you answer the objections? For example - let’s just look at one in A Simplified Grounding Objection To Middle Knowledge and focus on that:

In Why open theism doesn’t even matter (very much) Why open theism doesn’t even matter (very much), it says this:

So is the future closed or open (as open theists would indicate - possibilities, mind you) - in the mind of God?

What’s the difference between what you are asking and this questionn from the middle ages? How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?

How do we address this answer by Jacob Boehme , who was a German Lutheran mystic. Where he described

? :question:

let’s explore this a bit at Boehme Boehme

This assumes that man was originally joined to God. That is, it assumes we had an elevated state from which to fall. (Scripture doesn’t name this event “the fall;” that is a human tag we’ve given it. I don’t think we necessarily have to start out with the assumption that we had anywhere to fall FROM. What if the Garden narrative tells the story of how God breathed His breath into the man he had made (by whatever means God made him), and how then man was given the choice (two trees) of whether to live by the LIFE of God, or whether to live by his own innate (evolved?) moral and intellectual nature, newly awakened with the granting/infusing of consciousness by God (breath of life)? If that is the story (as I think it well may be), then there was no fall. What there was, was a refusal/failure to be helped up to the next step of our development. Evolution must be left behind in favor of the tutelage of our Father via the Holy Spirit. We were and are to be made into the image of our Elder Brother. Do we choose to do that via our own strength and intelligence, or do we admit to the need to be supernaturally lifted up into a new kind of life–the kind of life we cannot reach on our own? Most of us choose the DIY self-improvement paradigm, and like A&E, we fail miserably.

Not until we consent to the Great Physician’s ministries on our behalf and with no contribution of our own (to assuage our shame at our inability), will we rise to the next level of our journey. In a video game, this would be the secret key-code as opposed to our defeating the strongman on our own. Jesus defeated the strongman we could not best and now He lifts us up to the next level. He comes to save us, because we simply cannot and never will be able to save ourselves.

I always first run with the Eastern Orthodox answer. God is a divine mystery and beyond our philosophy and theology (but we can have theological understanding - to some degree). But the option I run with is open theism, as it gives quite a bit of “wiggle room”.

I cam across this from an article, from the Evangelical site Patheos. I like this from Why Some Christians Are Universalists (Letting Go of Hell Series):

The other thing that struck me from the article is terms. While Annihilationists talk about conditional immortality, Kurt Willems calls his hybrid view purgatorial conditionalism. or in his own words - from the article:

But these are areas I put as primary:

We can experience God in the here and now - to some degree. And thoughts and feelings effect reality. My own contemplation is a creative fusion of the traditions of Vedanta, Vipassanā and Zen, centered around the Golden Key of Emmet Fox. We just need to change it to a contemplation of God’s Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent . And do this constantly. Or in the word’s of St. Paul - pray without ceasing.
We continue to grow in Christ through a process of Sanctification in Anglicanism and Theosis in Eastern Orthodoxy.
I follow the view of Kurt Williams (A hybrid universalism/annihilationalism view called purgatorial conditionalism). But will add this (the universalism aspect is a strong possibility - as asserted above - not a certainty): That the Eastern Orthodox have the best understanding of Heaven and Hell, as being equal in God’s presence. How we experience God’s presence is heaven or hell for us. But add also that we may be reconciled to God through Christ, whether we know it or not (as inclusivism would emphasize). Actually, the hybrid finality vision is in harmony with the visions of Tiffany Snow (contemporary Catholic mystic and stigmata bearer). But I’ll only go with certainty, to those vision aspects in harmony with accepted major theological tenets.

Now I can theologically defend inclusivism and annihilational as orthodox theological tenets. But the scenario quoted above seems the most likely outcome. The key question is “how much time” is there for this scenerio to play out? Or how long can a person that’s not in Christ resist God’s presence, before they cease to exist?

As far as what is the best philosophical position for universalists to run with, I’ll defer that to their discretion.

Here’s an interesting thought from Hugh J. McCann, quoted in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
His point being that perhaps what we call ‘foreknowledge’ is actually just a matter of God’s ‘vantage point’ - if He is not ‘in’ the time stream…

Many philosophers have followed Boethius in this, holding that God is in no way a temporal being, but is rather the creator of time, with complete and equal access to all of its contents.[2] And it may well appear that on such a view God’s omniscience is restored, in that he has immediate cognitive access to everything that will ever occur. Moreover, there is no conflict with libertarian freedom, since on this account God’s knowledge of our future decisions and actions is not really foreknowledge. Rather, the vantage point from which God knows our decisions and actions is completely external to time. This makes all talk about “when” God knows about our actions pointless. He simply knows them, in a unified, timeless and unchanging act of comprehension that comprises all that ever was or will be.

Let’s hear him talk on YouTube: :smiley:

But what does it mean, Dave, for God to be “outside time”? I find the concept to be unintelligible.
Those who hold to this idea, incomprehensible as it is, also seem to hold that God can act within time. How is this possible if He exists outside of time?

Also, why should existing outside of time (whatever that means) imply seeing all events within time simultaneously? Who would it not imply not seeing any events within time?

Also, “time” is not an entity that has to have been created. As I see it, “time” is but a measurement of the temporal “distance” between the occurrence of events. If there were no events, there would be no time. The first event was the generation of the Son. As soon as the second event occurred, time was the consequence. By “the consequence” I mean that it was implied by the occurrence of the two events. If that doesn’t make sense, consider drawing an equilateral triangle. The consequence is that you have also drawn an equiangular triangle. Your drawing of an equiangular triangle is implied by your drawing of an equilateral triangle.

You’ll have to ask McCann about that, Paidion - way above my pay grade! :smiley: It has to do with ‘Perfect Being’ theology, which I am just getting into.

Actually, Hugh J. McCann and Stephen T. Davis, have written books on this. Their ideas are briefly summarized in God in time or timeless?

Exactly, Dave. Thanks for finding someone who could say what I’ve been trying (mostly without success) to say for quite some, ahem, **time **now. :wink: Not here, so much, but you know, around the net. For us, the concept of being outside of time IS unintelligible. Yet that would have to be God’s situation if He is the foundational reality. He can’t be a resident of time or a resident of eternity. He IS eternity, and time is in Him.