Why do many people consider Calvinism to be monstrous? An allegorical exploration (Part 2)

"I must say that I find exactly half of the parable of the breeder to be completely wonderful. And that, not surprisingly, is the half where the breeder treats the lost dogs and then grants them a beautiful life beyond their wildest imaginings."

Yes, that part is nice.

"However, I cannot accept the other half of the story in which the breeder refuses to extend that same treatment to the remaining three dogs. Indeed, I find his refusal to save the forgotten three to be positively monstrous. And I find the breeder's behavior to be completely mystifying in light of the fact that he is supposed to be, what was it now, ‘the kindest, gentlest, most skilful, most wise and most loving breeder of dogs in all the land.' How could a breeder who loved all dogs possibly choose such a horrid fate for some of them instead of offering to all a mode of healing that was readily available?"

That is an excellent question, and it brings us to the point of our parable.

"Which is...?"

A discussion of the Calvinist understanding of God and his relationship to human beings.

"Okay, so what exactly is ‘Calvinism'?"

Calvinism is a system of thought which provides a framework to interpret and understand much of what scripture says about the nature of God, providence, and salvation. While Calvinism draws its name from the famous Protestant reformer John Calvin (1509-64), the basic rudiments of this system of theology predate the Genevan reformer by centuries. Indeed, one may find Calvinism - or at least the key aspects of it with which we are concerned - back in the fifth century theologian St. Augustine (354-430).

Calvinists themselves aver that the doctrines of their system of theology go back further yet, indeed to the scripture itself, notably the writings of Paul and the teachings of Jesus. While we can debate whether or not Calvinism is in the Bible, its historical credentials are impeccable. Calvinism boasts among its many adherents some of history's greatest theologians including Martin Luther, Theodore Beza, John Owen, Francis Turretin, John Gill, Jonathan Edwards, Charles Hodge, B.B. Warfield, and of course Calvin himself. Nor is this great theological tradition irrelevant today, for it remains a living and vital force in the evangelical church.

"So what does your parable have to do with Calvinism?"

The Calvinist system of thought provides an impressive, comprehensive account of God's governance of creation and the process of salvation, but that account is also positively shocking in its implications. Unfortunately, those implications are often missed by people. And yet, if we are to make an informed judgment about the viability of Calvinism, then it is crucial that we understand them. It is for this reason that we have begun with a parable as a way to get us to appreciate the shocking nature of the Calvinist account. Calvinism takes a view in which God acts much like the breeder. As a result, those who find both parts of this parable glorious will probably not find it a stretch to accept the doctrines of Calvinism. But those who take offense at the parable will likewise have a problem with Calvinism.

"Like I said, I find part of it monstrous."

And you're not alone. In fact, I think that revulsion toward the breeder's behavior is a fairly universal reaction. This near consensus implies that, at the very least, Calvinism contradicts some pretty deeply held moral intuitions about the nature of love and goodness.

"So let me get this straight. Are you saying that Calvinism presents God in the same way that you presented the breeder, as deciding to save some people but not others, when he could have saved all?"

That's right. In our parable the breeder represents God while the dogs represent human beings. And the disposition to act violently reflects the human potential to choose evil: just as the dogs were created good but with the potential for evil, so human beings were created good but with the potential for evil.

"And let me guess, the breeder's serum is the atoning work of Christ."

Yes, the serum is the objective solution provided by the breeder to bring healing, and it thus parallels God's solution for sin in the life and death of Christ. But of course a serum that is not accepted is of no use at all. One must receive the medicine in order to benefit from it.

"So this is the second part of the salvation of the dogs, the point when the medicine is administered to each of them."

Yes, that parallels the moment of regeneration.

"Regeneration?"

To regenerate is to bring back to life. So regeneration is the point where the Holy Spirit applies the work of Christ to the individual, at which point they are born again and united with Christ in faith.

"I see. So the serum is like the work of Christ and the administration of the serum is like the work of the Spirit. This reminds me. One more thing bothered me at the beginning of the parable which I almost forgot to mention. Why did the breeder create the dogs with the genetic defect to begin with?

Why not create them perfect and avoid the entire need for a serum and treatment?"

That is an excellent question. And of course the corresponding question is: why did God create human beings knowing that they would fall?

"Well yeah, couldn't he have created human beings without the ability to fall?"

Calvinists believe that God could indeed have created Adam and Eve such that they would not have fallen.

"But if God could create free creatures that would not fall then why did he create creatures that do fall?"

That is a tough question for the Calvinist. But not everyone agrees with the Calvinist's view. Other Christians have argued that if God desires to create creatures with a free will, then they must be free to choose evil. Thus God accepts the possibility of evil because he values freedom.

"But if God knows the future, wouldn't he know how creatures would act if he created them? And based on that information couldn't he choose to create the creatures that would always freely choose the good? So why did he create us?"

You're very clever! I agree that that seems to be possible. But perhaps that intuition is mistaken. Perhaps it is actually the case that every free creature (or at least every free human creature) that God would create would eventually choose the evil at some point. In that case it might be that God knows the cost of creating free creatures is that there will eventually be a fall, but even so he embraces that cost for the net benefit of creating the creatures.

"So the creation of free creatures leads inevitably to a fall?"

That may be. We just don't know but it seems possible, and if this is true then it would explain why God created creatures that would fall.

"Hmmm, I guess that's possible. But that doesn't explain why the breeder doesn't save all the dogs. Or why God doesn't likewise save all people."

One could say it was for the same reason that there was a fall to begin with: free will. In the same way that God allowed us the freedom to fall, so he also grants us the freedom to stay fallen, even if that means that we choose to be lost forever. God grants you the freedom to keep making the wrong choice because he would prefer to grant you that freedom rather than to control your choices and steamroll your free will.

"So if you took that perspective, how would it change the parable?"

It might go something like this: The breeder loved all six of his dogs and desired for them all to be brought to full healing, and so he offered the saving treatment to them all. While three of the dogs freely accepted the treatment, the remaining three refused, continuing instead to snarl and bare their teeth. Though the breeder continued to offer the serum to the remaining three dogs, they continued to refuse the treatment until their situation finally became irreversible.

"Now this I understand. If that were the story then while it would still be tragic, at least the behavior of the breeder would no longer be incomprehensible. But that is not the story you told."

That's true, it's not the story accepted by the Calvinist. Remember, the Calvinist believes that God could create creatures that do not fall. Likewise, God could have brought healing to all creatures without violating their free will. But just as the breeder withholds a treatment which he could just as easily have administered to the remaining three, so God withholds the salvation treatment which he could just as easily have extended to all. For that reason, the Calvinist's story remains not simply tragic, but also deeply disturbing.

"If I may say so, the parable seems to call the character of the breeder into serious question."

It would seem so.

"But it is not simply that he refused to treat them. It is what happened to them afterward that is even more disturbing."

Certainly the full implication of the breeder's refusal to act only emerges when the two sets of dogs enter their respective destinies. The final state of the chosen dogs is as wonderful as the final state of the lost dogs is horrifying. And this parallels the point when God's chosen people enter heaven and the lost enter hell. When these two states are held up together in their startling contrast, the question becomes even more pressing: how could God choose to save some to the most incredible bliss whilst casting off others to the most unspeakable torment? If we accept that this is in fact the case, then what does it say about God?