Since Dr. Leighton Flowers has written a new book, I decided to revisit an older work of his, “The Potter’s Promise: A Biblical Defense of Traditional Soteriology.”

Chapter 1: What’s Love Got to Do with It?

Leighton begins this chapter by encouraging readers to reflect on who and what God truly is by examining various biblical analogies. These include God as a Father (Mt. 5:48), a faithful Friend (Jn. 15:15), a Shepherd (Ps. 80:1), a Rock (Ps. 18:2), and a Bridegroom (Mt. 25:6), among others. He points out that we often have a bias towards certain descriptions of God.

Leighton then focuses on the potter analogy (Is. 29:6, 45:9, 64:8; Jer. 18:1-10; Rom. 9:21). He explains that he initially understood this analogy in a Calvinist framework, where God creates some individuals for damnation and others for salvation. However, due to certain personal experiences, both sinful and redemptive, he has since revised his understanding. He now interprets the analogy as suggesting something about a potter dying for the clay.

Later in life, after personally experiencing God as my redemptive Potter through shameful stumbles and subsequent remolding, I came to understand this analogy in a much different light. I now believe the Scriptures reveal a Potter who manifests His glory by sacrificing Himself for the undeserving vessels, not by making vessels undeserving from birth so as to condemn them to display His glory. I came to realize that God is most glorified not at the expense of His creation, but at the expense of Himself for the sake of His creation. (Page 18).

Firstly, while it is acceptable to let experiences inform our understanding of the Bible, relying too heavily on experiences rather than biblical data to interpret analogies seems problematic. We must prioritize the biblical context and intent over our personal experiences. Additionally, there is no compelling reason to assume that a given analogy is used the same way across different contexts in the Bible.

Secondly, the Potter analogy in Scripture does not inherently suggest that a potter would die for his pots. The primary purpose of this analogy is to illustrate God’s sovereign authority and creative power over His creation, much like a potter shapes and molds clay. The idea of a potter sacrificing his life for his creations is not implicit in this analogy and strays from its intended message.

Allow me to flesh out what I mean by that statement. The God I now see revealed through Christ is one who would rather die than condemn another. He would rather pay the price Himself than make His enemy pay it. He desires mercy over justice (Mt. 5:38-41; Mt. 9:13). He loves His enemies and gives Himself up for them (Mt. 5:43-48). He is like the “good Samaritan” who does not pass by on the other side of the road to avoid His enemies, but instead stops to provide for them even in their rebellion (Lk. 10:25-37). (Page 18).

This argument doesn’t hold true based on Leighton’s own views. Leighton believes that God created a world where unbelief is rampant and knew that many individuals would freely disbelieve. If God’s primary concern was the salvation of everyone, then we would be living in a universalist world.

Although I don’t recall Leighton addressing this in his book, there are several responses from libertarians who affirm the traditional understanding of God. These include the Freewill Response, Feasibility Response, Unjustified Reasons Response, and the Greater or Equal Good Defense.

1. Freewill Response: This argues that for humans to be morally responsible and to have “true freedom,” God must allow them to freely choose to reject Him.
   Problem: This response fails to recognize that we’re discussing a possible world where everyone freely chooses to believe. Dr. Greg Welty notes that God could have given us free will among only good alternatives. As philosopher Michael Murray summarizes Peter Geach’s argument: ‘God could have wired us so thoughts of evil acts never occurred, while thoughts of diverse good actions always did, providing genuine alternatives in choice.’ This is a scenario where God restricts the range of thoughts to good ones, not removing free will but preventing evil thoughts. So, why is a world with unrestricted free will (and thus moral evil) more valuable than one with restricted free will and no moral evil? This value judgment about unrestricted free will seems implausible if free will’s value lies in the opportunity to do moral evil. Furthermore, if free will is so crucial, why wouldn’t God create a world where everyone freely chooses to do good, thus achieving universal salvation without compromising free will?
2. Feasibility Response: This suggests that although it’s possible, a universalist world isn’t feasible because such worlds might have flaws making them undesirable for God, such as having only a few inhabitants or existing under extreme conditions.
   Problem: This implies that modality is outside God’s control, suggesting God is dependent on these modalities. There’s no reason to believe a world where a sizable group freely comes to believe isn’t feasible. If God’s central motivation is the salvation of every individual, why wouldn’t He create such a world? It seems contradictory for God to prefer a world with more people in hell. Additionally, considering God’s omnipotence, it seems implausible that He couldn’t create a feasible world where everyone is saved without compromising His other attributes.
3. Unjustified Reasons Response: This posits that there are unjustified evils, but God doesn’t need justification to remain morally perfect.
   Problem: Claiming God can act without reason or motivation implies He acts arbitrarily or irrationally, which undermines His rational nature. This could lead to the idea that human actions and moral principles are also arbitrary, which is problematic. If God’s actions are beyond justification, it becomes challenging to defend the coherence of His moral perfection and the trustworthiness of His nature.
4. Greater or Equal Good Defense: This suggests that God allows evils for a greater good that justifies His reasons.
   Problem: This argument is widely accepted but problematic for libertarian freedom. If Leighton complains that God “causes” evil, he must consider this defense. Additionally, it’s unclear why libertarian freedom is consistent with this defense. Human freedom might lead to irrevocable moral dilemmas where no greater good can come from it. Moreover, if God’s goal is the greater good, why wouldn’t He achieve this through universal salvation, thereby maximizing the ultimate good?

Lastly, Leighton believes in heavenly freedom without the possibility of sin. If God’s ultimate motivation is the salvation of every individual, why not create such a world from the start? This raises questions about the nature of freedom and salvation, and whether the current world, with its rampant unbelief and evil, aligns with an all-loving and all-powerful God’s ultimate desires.

Another response, similar to Richard Swinburne’s view, is to assert that libertarian free choices are intrinsic goods in themselves. This perspective combines elements from the previous notions discussed.

The Problem: It isn’t immediately evident that choices are inherently good in themselves. In fact, our intuitions often suggest the opposite. For instance, we prioritize the safety of children over the choices made by predators. This implies that the value of free choices is not absolute and can be overridden by other considerations. Furthermore, one could simply argue that libertarian free choices are not intrinsic goods. The intrinsic value of free choices must be demonstrated rather than assumed, and this argument fails to provide a compelling reason for considering them as inherently good.

Allow me to flesh out what I mean by that statement. The God I now see revealed through Christ is one who would rather die than condemn another. He would rather pay the price Himself than make His enemy pay it. He desires mercy over justice (Mt. 5:38-41; Mt. 9:13). He loves His enemies and gives Himself up for them (Mt. 5:43-48). He is like the “good Samaritan” who does not pass by on the other side of the road to avoid His enemies, but instead stops to provide for them even in their rebellion (Lk. 10:25-37). (Page 18).

Firstly, neither Matthew 5:38-41 nor Matthew 9:13 teaches that Christ prioritizes mercy at the expense of justice. On the contrary, Christ’s ministry demonstrates that He is concerned with mercy in virtue of His justice. This is evident in His ultimate act of healing through His sacrificial death, which embodies both mercy and justice.

Secondly, these verses convey specific teachings. Matthew 9:13 emphasizes that Jesus came for sinners, just as a physician is needed by the sick, not the healthy. Meanwhile, Matthew 5:38-41 focuses on personal relationships, instructing us not to hold grudges and to practice kindness and forgiveness. These passages highlight the complementary nature of mercy and justice in Jesus’ teachings and actions.

“If one friend says to another, ‘You were just using me,’ it would obviously be understood as something destructive to the relationship. The phrase means that one person is taking advantage of another for his or her own selfish motives. If you do not really care about the other person, but instead are merely ‘using’ them to accomplish your own desires and purposes, then you cannot rightly be called a ‘friend.’ Such attitudes and behaviors are destructive to a relationship because they remove trust, joy, and mutual love. But is the concept of being used destructive in our relationship with God? That relationship is different, right? He is almighty God, the Molder in the Heavens who makes and uses His clay pots however He pleases to serve His own glory, right? That is what I believed and taught for many years of my ministry. Now, however, I see things a bit differently. Please understand, I am not attempting to deny that God has every right to mold and use anyone to do whatever He is pleased to have them do. I am not denying God’s power or prerogative as God to do anything!” (Page 19).

Leighton concludes this thought with an illustration:

“Let me illustrate what I mean. When I was a teenager and my dad asked me to do something to help him around the house, I most typically complied while responding, ‘Yes, sir,’ because that is how I was raised. I obeyed my dad for one of two reasons: (1) I did not want to get punished or (2) I wanted to get my allowance for the week. After many years, however, my dad and I have grown to be good friends and even colleagues in ministry. On a rare occasion he will ask me to help him with a chore at his house and I always gladly comply. Why? What motivates me now? I no longer fear his belt (thank God!) nor do I expect any kind of payment. So, why do I happily agree? I love him. He is my friend. Our relationship has matured beyond being motivated by rewards and punishments. He does not merely ‘use me’ as his lawn keeper and trash hauler under the threat of punishment or the hope of reward. He confides in me and I confide in him, much like what Jesus seems to be seeking from His own followers.” (Page 20).

If Leighton is suggesting that God manipulates people, he faces several issues. While Leighton concedes that God has the right to use people, he argues that it is against God’s character to do so. However, why should we assume that God is manipulating people?

Moreover, if the idea is that God uses people for His selfish purposes, what makes those purposes selfish? God’s purposes, by definition, are aligned with His perfect nature, which includes attributes of love, justice, and righteousness. Therefore, attributing selfishness to God’s purposes misunderstands the nature of divine actions. God’s use of individuals can be seen as part of a greater plan that ultimately serves the good of His creation, rather than selfish manipulation.

Furthermore, Bignon has dealt in depth with the manipulation objection to theistic determinism. Firstly, not all manipulations are morally egregious. For example, police may manipulate a child predator to show up somewhere by pretending to be an underage person. This kind of manipulation serves a greater good and protects the innocent.

Secondly, Leighton simply assumes that divine determinism operates in the same causal order as creaturely causation. But what argument does Leighton have to suppose that creaturely manipulation is anything like divine causation? God’s causation, being divine, is categorically different from human causation. It operates on a level that transcends our understanding of causality and morality. Therefore, equating divine causation with human manipulation is a category mistake and fails to account for the profound differences between the Creator and the creature.

Leighton cites 1 Corinthians 13 to argue that Calvinism is inconsistent with the notion of universal divine love. He states:

“While attempting to maintain some semblance of divine love for those unconditionally rejected by God in eternity past, many Calvinists will appeal to God’s common provisions such as rain and sunshine. But can such provisions be deemed as genuinely loving given the Scripture’s own definition of love found in 1 Corinthians 13? Paul, under inspiration of the Holy Spirit, clearly explains what love is not when he writes,” (Page 21).

Leighton ignores the universalistic force of his argument. If 1 Corinthians 13 is a definitive list of what every kind of love must entail, then it implies that love must not keep a record of wrongs. However, does the Provisionist understanding of God hold unbelievers accountable for their wrongdoings?

Provisionists, like many other theological perspectives, assert that God does indeed hold unbelievers accountable for their wrongdoings. This accountability is part of divine justice. If we follow Leighton’s strict interpretation of 1 Corinthians 13, where love must not keep a record of wrongs, then it would seem inconsistent to say that God, who is love, would hold anyone accountable for their sins.

Additionally, interpreting 1 Corinthians 13 as a comprehensive definition of every form of love can be problematic. The context of this passage is primarily about human relationships and the qualities of love within the community of believers. While it certainly reflects divine love, applying it universally to all aspects of God’s dealings with humanity, including justice and judgment, oversimplifies the complexity of God’s nature.

Furthermore, Calvinists argue that God’s common grace, such as rain and sunshine, does reflect genuine love and care for all of creation. This common grace is not salvific but demonstrates God’s benevolence and provision for all people, regardless of their ultimate spiritual destiny.

Leighton shows a lack of self-awareness by presenting a list of questions to argue that God cannot love the reprobate in the Calvinist view:

“This biblical truth is simply undeniable, which is why some more moderate Calvinists feel the need to offer a rebuttal in defense of God’s common love for all people from the obvious implications of the Calvinistic worldview. But can one objectively conclude that God’s treatment of the reprobate within the Calvinistic system is truly ‘loving’ according to God’s own definition above? Is God patient with the reprobate of Calvinism, whom He ‘hated’ and rejected ‘before he was born or had done anything good or bad?’ Is God kind to those He destines to torment for all eternity without any regard to their own choices, intentions, or actions? Does God honor the non-elect by allowing them to enjoy a little rain and sunlight before they spend an eternity suffering for something over which they had absolutely no control? Is God not easily angered by those who are born under His wrath and without hope of reconciliation? Does God keep the record of wrongs committed by reprobates? Does the so-called ‘love’ of God for the non-elect fail or does it persevere?” (Page 22).

Firstly, some of these questions are self-defeating, while others are based on flawed assumptions about determinism. Is Leighton’s view of God truly loving by his own standards? Is his God equally patient with everyone? Didn’t his God create a world where the inevitable end involves the damnation of those who did not believe? Does his God keep a record of wrongs committed by those who will never believe? This level of critique mirrors the simplistic arguments often seen in New Atheist literature, which fails to engage deeply with the theological nuances involved.

Secondly, Leighton makes unargued assumptions such as the idea that people will “spend an eternity suffering for something over which they had absolutely no control.” Most Calvinists argue that individuals do have relevant moral control over their actions. How many times has Bignon pointed this out to Leighton’s followers? The assertion that Calvinism negates moral responsibility oversimplifies the Calvinist position, which maintains that God’s sovereignty and human responsibility coexist in a way that preserves moral agency.

Leighton takes his view of divine love and argues that it must mean we should have self-sacrificial love for every single human being on the planet:

“Given that biblical definition of love as ‘self-sacrifice,’ let us consider Christ’s command to love our enemies. Is this an expectation Christ Himself is unwilling to fulfill? In other words, is He being hypocritical in this command by telling us to do something He is unwilling to do? Of course not. The very reason He told His followers to love their enemies is ‘in order that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven…’ (Matt. 5:45).” (Page 23).

Firstly, consider the analogy where God commands someone to give another person a backrub. Does this entail that Christ must give a backrub as well? Clearly not. This illustrates that specific commands to humans do not necessarily reflect identical actions from Christ.

Secondly, Leighton’s argument could be turned back on him. A universalist might argue that if God truly loves everyone equally, then everyone should be saved. Does God not perfectly love everyone? This raises the question of whether divine love necessarily results in universal salvation, which many theological traditions, including Provisionism, reject.

Furthermore, does Leighton suppose we are to love everyone the same? Consider a scenario where a building is on fire and Leighton can either save his children or a stranger. Most people, including Leighton, would likely agree that he has a greater obligation to save his children over the stranger. This illustrates that while we are commanded to love our enemies and show kindness to all, there are different levels of obligation and priority in our relationships.

I suggest that this is an over-reading of Matthew 5:43-45. The passage promotes kindness even towards those we personally despise because God has shown kindness to all. It encourages us not to let personal disputes cause us to be unkind to those with whom we may have personal animosity.

Moreover, Leighton’s interpretation of self-sacrificial love as an obligation for each individual towards every other human being is unrealistic and impractical. Biblical commands for love often emphasize the quality and nature of love rather than prescribing specific actions that must be universally applied in all circumstances. The command to love our enemies is about cultivating a heart of forgiveness, compassion, and grace, reflecting God’s own character in our interactions.

Additionally, the concept of divine love must be understood within the broader context of God’s attributes, including His justice and holiness. God’s love does not negate His justice, and His commands to love our enemies are about fostering a community of believers who reflect His love and grace, rather than imposing an impossible standard of self-sacrifice for every single human being.

Chapter 2: Leighton the Wedding Crasher

Leighton begins to give his interpretation of Matthew 22:1-14. He argues Calvinists confuse several different choices of the king in this chapter:

“Take a moment to read the parable of The Wedding Feast in Matthew 22:1-14. As you read, be sure to note the three distinct choices of our Kingly Potter listed below:

• Divine Choice #1: The choice of His servants from within His own country, who were given the task of sending out the invitation.
• Divine Choice #2: The choice to send the invitation first to His own country and then to all others.
• Divine Choice #3: The choice to allow only those clothed in proper wedding garments to enter into the feast.” (Pages 28-29).

Leighton interprets this as God choosing Israel to be a light to the nations, giving them divine revelation to point the world to the true God. However, because they failed, God turned to the Gentiles:

“His wedding invitation list includes the people of His own chosen nation, which represents Israel. His servants, people of this same nation, who are called to send out the invitation, clearly represent His prophets and apostles (most of whom are mistreated by the other Israelites). Once His own people rejected the invitations, the king chooses to send His chosen messengers to those outside of His own nation, to the ‘good and bad alike’ (vs. 10). Jesus is giving us a parable that explains how God’s elective purposes have come to pass. He chose a people (Israel) to be the nation through which the law, prophets, and His Word would be delivered to the entire world (Rom. 3:1-3; 9:4-5). This choice was not based on the impressive size or morality of the nation or its individuals.” (Page 29).

Leighton attributes the mix-up to why some Calvinists perceive an aspect of unconditional election from this parable:

“One might describe these choices as being ‘unconditional,’ (as in the Calvinistic concept of ‘unconditional election’). After all, He did not choose the nation based on its impressiveness, or the individual servants called to carry His invitations based on their morality. Nor does He send the invitations specifically to people who are more moral. So, based on these facts alone, it may appear that God’s choices are always unconditional, but the parable is not complete.” (Page 29).

Firstly, it seems debatable that this parable is primarily about Israel’s role in being a light to the Gentiles. As Carson states:

“The king sends his servants to tas diexodous tōn hodōn (‘the street corners,’ v. 9)—probably the forks of the roads, where they would find many people. They extend the king’s invitation to all and succeed in drawing in all kinds of people, ‘both good and bad’ (v. 10). That Jesus is reported as saying this in Matthew clearly shows that the superior righteousness (5:20) believers must attain to enter the kingdom is not merely rigorous obedience to law. After all, this gospel promises a Messiah who saves his people from their sins (1:21; 20:28). Those who are now being invited to come to the banquet are not Gentiles but the despised within Israel. ‘When the elite do not come, they are replaced by those of the lower social orders, not of a different ethnicity.'” (Carter, Matthew and the Margins, 436).

(Carson, D. A.; Carson, D. A.. Matthew (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary) (Kindle Locations 16062-16067). Zondervan. Kindle Edition).

This interpretation fits with the theme of the last three parables (The Two Sons, The Wicked Tenants, and The Wedding Feast). In each of these, to the surprise of all, those who were not expected are being called to faith (prostitutes and tax collectors, 21:23-27). Jesus’ target in these parables is the Pharisees and Sadducees, as Matthew 23:1-3 will teach that their authority is being removed.

Secondly, Leighton holds that because the invitation is conditioned on believing and following the rules of the king, this shows conditional election:

“That choice is anything but unconditional. The choice of those who were allowed to eat at the banquet was clearly conditioned upon the individual showing up in the proper clothing. The wedding garments obviously represent being clothed in the righteousness of Christ through faith. The ‘few’ who are ‘chosen’ represent those who responded freely to the invitation sent by the king through his unconditionally chosen servants from his unconditionally chosen nation.” (Page 30).

However, it isn’t necessarily true that the clothes are meant to represent the righteousness of Christ. As Carson states:

“Whether one is good or bad, there is an appropriate attire for this wedding feast. Evidence that the host in first-century Palestinian weddings furnished appropriate attire is inadequate and probably irrelevant to what Matthew is saying. The guest’s speechlessness proves he knows he is guilty, even though the king gently calls him ‘friend’ (v. 12; cf. 20:13). In view of ‘good or bad’ (v. 10), it is difficult to believe that the wedding clothes symbolize righteousness, unless we construe it as a righteousness essential not to enter but to remain there. It is better to leave the symbolism a little vague and say no more than that the man, though invited, did not prepare acceptably for the feast. Thus, though the invitation is very broad, it does not follow that all who respond positively actually remain for the banquet.”

(Carson, D. A.; Carson, D. A.. Matthew (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary) (Kindle Locations 16068-16073). Zondervan. Kindle Edition).

But the ultimate point is that just because these conditions of salvation exist, it doesn’t imply they are conditions for election. In a Calvinist view, all the elect come to faith, but that isn’t a condition of election. As Carson further explains:

“The gar (‘for’) introduces a general, pithy conclusion explaining the parable (see comments at 18:7; Zerwick, Biblical Greek, paras. 474–75). Many are invited, but some refuse to come, and others who do come refuse to submit to the norms of the kingdom and are therefore rejected. Those who remain are called ‘chosen’ (eklektoi, GK 1723), a word implicitly denying that the reversals in the parable in any way catch God unawares or remove sovereign grace from his control. At the same time, it is clear from all three parables (21:28–22:14) that not the beginning but the end is crucial.”

(Carson, D. A.; Carson, D. A.. Matthew (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary) (Kindle Locations 16074-16079). Zondervan. Kindle Edition).

This explanation seems to exclude thinking of this parable in a manner that supports conditional election. The emphasis on the end being crucial aligns with the Calvinist view that while many are invited, only the elect, those who respond in faith and remain faithful, are chosen.

Chapter 3: Chess God’s So Sovereign That He Gives Up His Sovereignty

Leighton states:

“Suppose you went for a walk in your local park and happened upon an elderly man playing a game of chess all by himself. You stop and ask him why he is playing both sides of the chess board, and he says, ‘It’s the only way I know to guarantee my victory.’ You continue on your way to find another elderly man playing chess with an actual opponent followed by a line of challengers as far as the eye can see. One by one they are defeated soundly without much effort due to the wisdom and abilities of the elderly chess master. Which one are you going to go home and talk about? Which one is really greater and more praiseworthy? Should ‘sovereignty’ be interpreted and understood as the necessity of God to ‘play both sides of the chessboard’ in order to ensure His victory? Or should it be understood as God’s infinite and mysterious ways of accomplishing His purposes and ensuring His victory in, through, and despite the libertarianly free choices of creation? Must God be in equal control over the choices of those who oppose Him in order to accomplish victory? Or is God so powerful, wise, intelligent, all-knowing, and infinite in His ability to overcome, work through, and in spite of free evil choices to accomplish the ultimate good?” (Page 34).

As Chris Harris has stated to Leighton on numerous occasions:

“God isn’t playing a game with creation, nor is he maneuvering through history ‘trying’ to do this or that. God is and does; creation doesn’t have a seat at the table as if it offers any challenge to God. The chess analogy poses massive problems for an orthodox Doctrine of God.”

The reason the chess analogy doesn’t work is that reality isn’t in the hands of two equally powerful forces. God isn’t subject to rules where He’s just cleverly maneuvering. He’s unique in every way.

Look at it this way: which father is more “sovereignly free” in relation to his child? The father whose nature demands that he must use physical force to control the child’s every action in order to maintain his physical strength over that child? Or, the father who is freely able to use physical strength or refrain from using physical strength in any given circumstance as he so chooses? Clearly, the latter is more “sovereignly free” because he is not restricted in having to manipulate the child’s actions by brute strength (Page 35).

Notice that God isn’t controlling things through physical force or intimidation, just as Tolkien doesn’t have to physically move the limbs of Frodo to get him to journey. Leighton fails to comprehend what the Neo-Reformed tradition teaches about God’s causation, such that his analogy requires what isn’t analogous.

God, in His freedom, has chosen to give dominion to His creation and He has not yet taken full control over everything on earth as it is in heaven (Mt. 6:10; Ps. 115:16). Passages throughout the Bible teach that there are “authorities” and “powers” which are yet to be destroyed but have been given limited control (Page 35).

This is to say that there are agents in the world—whether strong spiritual beings, world leaders, etc.—that are all just part of God’s story. Leighton only assumes his views about freedom without giving any serious arguments for it.

Leighton’s analogy of the chess game implies that for God to be truly sovereign, He must allow for genuine human freedom, where humans have libertarian free will to oppose Him. However, this analogy is flawed because it portrays God as needing to outmaneuver opposition rather than being the ultimate sovereign over all creation. The chess master analogy falls short because it does not adequately represent the complexity and depth of divine sovereignty, where God’s control and human freedom coexist in a manner that is beyond mere human analogies. Namely, the creator-creature distinction, God isn’t subject to the rules like created agents.

Moreover, the chess analogy fails to account for the biblical portrayal of God’s sovereignty. In the Bible, God’s sovereignty is often depicted as being fully in control, yet working through the free actions of humans. For example, Joseph’s story in Genesis shows how God used the free but evil actions of his brothers to bring about a greater good (Genesis 50:20). This demonstrates a level of divine orchestration that goes beyond simply outmaneuvering an opponent; it shows God’s ability to bring about His purposes through and despite human choices.

Leighton’s view also seems to overlook the distinction between God’s decretive will (His eternal plan) and His permissive will (what He allows to happen within the context of that plan). God’s sovereignty does not mean that He must forcefully control every action, but rather that He can achieve His ultimate purposes even when creatures exercise their freedom.


Furthermore, some argue such things as, “If God knew what would happen in this world prior to creating the world, but chose to create it anyway, then God must have determined everything to be as it is.” While the logic of this sounds plausible, we must recognize the limitations inherent within such finite observations. The argument imposes a linear way of thinking and a cause/effect construct upon an infinite Being, who is not bound by time, space, cause, and effect. His ways are higher than our ways, and so we cannot presume that His knowledge of future events is somehow equal to what our knowledge of future events might be if we had a crystal ball and could somehow look through the linear corridors of time. (Page 36).

Had Leighton allowed this kind of nuance for Calvinists, then he might be one. The problem is that Leighton himself imposes these onto God as he sees fit. Look at all the previous arguments about fathers, chess players, etc., that he has appealed to explain why he thinks God must be the way he thinks He is. The hubris is overwhelming.

The argument is popular among Calvinists, fatalists, and Open Theists:

• If God timelessly knows the past,
• then God’s knowledge of the past is unalterable,
• in which case the past is unalterable.
• If God timelessly knows the future,
• then God’s knowledge of the future is unalterable,
• in which case the future is unalterable.

God is not stuck on a linear timeline, looking into the past or the future. He is the timeless great “I AM,” which suggests that His knowledge is less like our set knowledge of past events (or future ones if we had a crystal ball) and more like our knowledge of present reality. We know what is happening right now because we exist in the now, not because we are necessarily determining what we are experiencing in the here and now, though our choices and actions could certainly affect our present reality. Likewise, our infinite God exists in the eternal now, which is beyond our comprehension. Should we (indeed can we) draw dogmatic conclusions about such infinite realities? Should we conclude that God determines the evils of this world with the same “sovereignty” that determined the redemption by which those evils are reconciled? (Page 37).

Leighton appeals to the “eternal now” view to try to resolve the issue, but there are objections to the view. If God is eternal (timeless), then He is unable to change. But the eternal now analogy is predicated upon God changing just like that perspective of a temporal knower. As Dr. Michael Sudduth states:

“As stated above, the timelessness of God follows from the conception of God as actus purus, in whom there is no contingency or potentiality. To be in time, as Thomas sees it, is to undergo (substantial or accidental) change. Not only does God not undergo any change, but He is incapable of doing so because He lacks all potentiality, which is simply the capacity for being what one is not (substantially or accidentally). When the human subject knows that Socrates is seated (in such a way as to not influence Socrates’ being seated), the human subject is affected, and this being affected entails being in potency–which God as actus purus cannot be. So we have the following conflict.

(A) Divine foreknowledge and human freedom are compatible only if God is timeless. (B) God is timeless because He is pure act. (C) Any being who is pure act lacks all potency. (D) If the present-knowledge analogy works, then the divine being must be in potency.”

Source: Watchmen Council – Eternal Now

Is God determining to merely correct His own determinations? I have to believe it is a bit more complex than that. There is nothing that impressive about a deterministic worldview. After all, even a good computer programmer can create a deterministic virtual world. (Page 37).

This strange comment follows from the last. Firstly, there is nothing remarkable about a libertarian world where things happen randomly and agents aren’t morally responsible. Why hold agents responsible for choices that have nothing to do with their moral characters?

Secondly, this issue of God redeeming His own determinations has been long addressed! Going back to my article “How to Flunk Soteriology 101.”

This objection is put forward to make God’s redeeming work a pointless task because He has determined everything, so then He is only redeeming His own determinations.
This is a rather odd objection. It is like the atheist who mocks Christians because of the cross: God knew we would sin and needs to save us from Himself. But Dr. Flowers accepts the following with no problem: God knew we would sin, that he would have to die for our sins, and that work is God redeeming us from His own determination.

Calvinist philosopher and theologian Steve Hays wrote concerning Flowers’ objection:

Some people make statements that seem self-evidently true to them because they don’t consider obvious counterexamples. For instance, drama is typically defined in terms of conflict and conflict resolution. A novelist or dramatist or screenwriter or director first creates a dramatic situation in order to then relieve the dramatic tension. There’s nothing counterintuitive about a creative agent who intentionally causes a problem in order to solve the problem. That’s because the problem is a source of dramatic potential. And the resolution leads to enlightenment. The characters undergo a transformative experience that raises them to a higher plane than before the crisis.

Hays also goes on to write in another article explaining that God changing circumstances is apart of what God predestines in the first place. God doesn’t retroactively try to change his prior decree. God predestined an evolving timeline and not merely selective parts of it. For more on that read this article:

Les Fleurs du mal

Leighton states that Calvinism leaves unbelievers with an excuse, but it is unclear what Leighton thinks that excuse is without simply arbitrarily assuming that Libertarianism is necessary for culpability:

No man will stand before the Father and be able to give the excuse, “I was born unloved by my Creator (Jn. 3:16). I was born un-chosen and without the hope of salvation (Titus 2:11). I was born unable to see, hear or understand God’s revelation of Himself (Acts 28:27-28).” (Page 38).


You won’t be held responsible for God’s election, but God will decide what you are responsible for. “Hear,” “see,” and “understand” are mostly metaphors for spiritual obstinance.


Chapter 4: Total Depravity vs Judicial Hardening

Leighton begins to prepare for one of his main notions: that the verses often used to imply total depravity can be understood not as referring to an inability of moral character present from birth, but rather as a hardening granted so the messianic secret doesn’t extend so far as to prevent the crucifixion.

“What is known about the Israelites of this day? Scripture reveals that they have ‘become calloused…otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them’ (Acts 28:27). They were not born calloused, but over time they had grown hardened in their religious self-righteousness, which prevented them from hearing, seeing, and responding to the revelation of God.” (Page 43).

Calvinists aren’t committed to arguing that people are born hardened, but that they are born depraved (morally incapable of belief without divine intervention).

“They are being temporarily blinded in their already calloused condition so as to accomplish redemption for the world. This is not about God rejecting most of humanity before the world began as the Calvinistic systematic reads into these texts.” (Page 44).

Leighton is correct that hardening is not necessarily irrevocable punishment, but it very well could be.

“Clearly, Jesus used riddles, or parables, to keep the Jewish leaders in the dark for a time so as to accomplish a greater redemptive good. This completely undermines Calvinism’s doctrine of ‘Total Inability.’ There is no practical or theological reason for God to put a blindfold on those born totally and completely blind from birth. And there is certainly no reason to hide truth from those in the ‘corpse-like dead’ condition of ‘Total Inability’ proposed by the ‘T’ in Calvinism’s TULIP.” (Pages 44-45).

There is not a significant issue here. While Total Depravity entails that, in and of themselves, people cannot come to faith, hardening is a further psychological/spiritual effect in which God causes them to be more obstinate than they otherwise would have been. Here is an old response to it:

A while ago, I asked Steve Hays the following question: “If we are born in a state of being totally depraved (having an inability of responding to God, like 1 Cor 2:14), then why does Jesus have to speak in parables to them in Matthew 13:13-15, Acts 28:26-28, John 12:39-40? If we are born spiritually unable to come to God, then why does the text say that God had to blind them so they won’t turn and be healed?”

Steve said:

i) There’s a difference between inability to understand and inability to believe. A person can understand something, but be unreceptive to the truth.

ii) Blinding and hardening are metaphors. By themselves, they don’t explain how God blinds or hardens people. It could be direct divine action on someone’s mind. Or it could be providential: sin, social conditioning, demonic influence.

What is Total Depravity?
“III. Man, by his fall into a state of sin, has wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation: so as, a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto” WCF, Chapter 9

Dr. Vern Poythress said:

“Total depravity” does not mean that every human being is as bad as he could be, but “radical” depravity, reaching to the root, and contaminating every aspect of human nature. Moreover, when the word of God comes to someone, it has the effect either of leading to repentance or hardening, in case it is resisted. No one simply remains the same. There is a dynamics to historical development. And this dynamics is superintended by God, so that if someone hardens his heart, it is also true that God is in charge of the hardening. There is both divine sovereignty in human affairs and human responsibility, as is illustrated by the events surrounding the crucifixion of Christ. So, the language of hardening is quite consistent with radical depravity being there even from the womb.

We can turn it back on Dr. Flowers as well and point out that if a man has such a freedom of contrary choice, he would be able to simply always choose contrary. But if he can simply choose contrary, then hardening is pointless as a man could always choose contrary and would render the hardening pointless. The hardening wouldn’t accomplish anything. Here’s an article that goes further into this issue. Furthermore, Leighton’s interpretation conflicts with his own position once again. Does he really suppose that if these Jews had an understanding of the Gospel, that entails that the individual will actually believe it?

At best, you may hold to flickers response, in which at the moment of the deliberation the person could choose otherwise, but they are caused to choose the opposite. But this would be Leighton admitting that these Jews were cases of divine coercion.

Furthermore, looking at John 12, it isn’t as if simply because Jesus did miracles, that therefore people would necessarily believe. Don’t Libertarians think they choose to believe rather than merely seeing a miracle occur causing you to believe unless you are hardened?