Leighton Flowers, through his platform Soteriology 101, presents a synergistic perspective on salvation, emphasizing human libertarian free will and interpreting the Father’s “drawing” in John 6:44–45 as an enabling act through teaching rather than an irresistible force.

1. Drawing as Enabling through Teaching

Leighton Flowers presents his alternative to the Calvinistic interpretation of John 6:44 (“No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him”). He argues that this “drawing” should not be interpreted as irresistible regeneration of elect individuals, but rather as a divine pedagogical process—a revelatory work through which the Father prepares responsive hearts for Christ.

For Flowers, the subsequent verse, John 6:45, provides what he considers the essential interpretive key:

“It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Therefore everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to Me.” —John 6:45 (NKJV)

Based on this connection between “drawing” in verse 44 and “teaching” in verse 45, Flowers constructs his interpretation. According to his framework:

1. The drawing of the Father is not a secret, irresistible act of regeneration
2. It is instead an act of open, covenantal instruction available to all Israel
3. It operates through God’s revelation in Scripture and creation
4. It respects human moral agency and responsibility

The Father has already revealed truth to Israel through Moses and the prophets, and those who have embraced that prior revelation are precisely the ones whom the Father subsequently draws to the Son. This establishes a pattern of responsiveness to divine revelation rather than unconditional election.

Flowers’ Connection to Mosaic Teaching

Flowers connects responsiveness to Moses’ teachings with receptivity to Christ, referencing Jesus’s words in John 5:46-47:

“For if you believed Moses, you would believe Me; for he wrote about Me. But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe My words?”

Building on this, Flowers states:

“If you hear and learn from Moses, you’ll believe in Me because Moses spoke about Me.” —Leighton Flowers, “John 6 Is Not About You”

This perspective frames the Father’s drawing work as a continuous process of revelation that began with the Law and the Prophets and culminates in Christ. In Flowers’ view, those who received the earlier revelations are prepared to recognize and embrace the revelation in the Son.

Flowers claims this interpretive approach preserves several theological principles:

1. The sovereignty of God in the salvation process
2. The genuine free moral agency of human beings
3. The universal availability of divine truth
4. The integrity of God’s judgment against those who reject revelation

Flowers on Drawing as Enablement, Not Regeneration

Flowers rejects the Calvinistic view that the “drawing” in John 6:44 refers to unconditional election or irresistible regeneration. Instead, he characterizes it as divine enablement through revelation:

“Enablement by bringing the gospel… by bringing light and truth, He’s enabling them to come.” —Leighton Flowers

This enablement, according to Flowers, operates through cognitive and moral pathways rather than through an irresistible transformation of the human will. He identifies biblical examples of this process:

Examples Flowers Cites

1. Nathanael – described by Jesus as “an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit” (John 1:47)
2. Cornelius – characterized as “a devout man and one who feared God with all his household” (Acts 10:2) before hearing the gospel
3. Lydia – “a worshiper of God” whose heart “the Lord opened” to receive Paul’s message (Acts 16:14)

Flowers argues these individuals demonstrated prior receptivity to divine truth before their encounter with the gospel. They were drawn to Christ because they had already shown responsiveness to God’s revelation.

Flowers characterizes the drawing as pedagogical and persuasive, not deterministic:

“It’s never, ‘I will give you life—arbitrarily or unilaterally, just gives some people life so that you’ll certainly believe—that’s never the order of Scripture.'” —Leighton Flowers

Flowers’ Contrasting Interpretive Frameworks

Flowers presents two opposing frameworks that produce different readings of John 6:

The Calvinist Framework (As Characterized by Flowers)

• Anthropological View: Total Inability – Humans cannot respond positively to divine revelation without prior regeneration
• Soteriological View: Unconditional Election – God chooses some for salvation without reference to foreseen faith
• View of Drawing: The “drawing” is a secret act of regeneration given exclusively to the elect
• Causal Sequence: Regeneration precedes and causes faith
• Scope: Drawing applies only to those predestined for salvation

Flowers’ Non-Calvinist Framework

• Anthropological View: While affected by sin, humans retain capacity to respond to divine revelation
• Soteriological View: God’s saving work responds to human faith and repentance
• View of Drawing: The drawing is pedagogical and invitational—enabling rather than compelling
• Response Pattern: Extended to those who demonstrate receptivity to God’s prior revelation
• Focus: Drawing operates within God’s covenant relationship with humanity

Flowers characterizes the consequences of these different starting points:

“If you refuse to follow the Father, then guess what you’re going to do when you hear the Son—you’re going to refuse to follow Him too, which is the theme throughout the Book of John.”

Regarding the audience in John 6, Flowers argues they are not simply “totally depraved” but Israelites who have rejected the Father’s prior revelation:

“They can’t come unless they hear and know, and listen to the Father.” —Leighton Flowers

For Flowers, the inability described in John 6:44 is not an inherent inability in human nature, but a moral inability resulting from rejection of divine truth.

Flowers on Selective Drawing

Flowers acknowledges that the drawing in John 6 is selective—not everyone is drawn. However, he rejects the Calvinistic explanation that this selectivity stems from arbitrary divine election. Instead, he grounds this discrimination in covenant responsiveness:

Flowers’ Basis for Divine Selection

Flowers references biblical passages that he believes establish patterns of divine discrimination based on heart posture:

• Psalm 25:14 – “The secret of the LORD is with those who fear Him, And He will show them His covenant.”
• Proverbs 3:34 – “Surely He scorns the scornful, But gives grace to the humble.”

Based on these texts, Flowers asserts:

“Who does He make His covenant known to? Those who fear Him.” —Leighton Flowers

This establishes his principle that divine revelation follows human receptivity to previous revelation:

“We all agree the Father gives people to the Son… but He has a good reason for it—and it’s not hidden in the secret counsels of His will… He states it all the time: ‘I save the humble.'” —Leighton Flowers

Flowers’ View of Grace and Human Response

Flowers distinguishes his position from Pelagianism, maintaining that divine grace—particularly the grace of revelation—is necessary, but operates persuasively rather than irresistibly:

“The best way… to understand the grammar, is to give a parallel sentence with the same grammar. So, on our view: ‘No man can come to the Son’s Wedding Banquet unless the Father invites or enables him… and he who comes will have a great feast.'”

This illustration, in Flowers’ understanding, shows that divine initiative precedes human response, yet the response remains contingent.

Flowers’ Contextual Distinction: John 6 vs. John 12

Flowers differentiates between the “drawing” in John 6:44 and the “drawing” in John 12:32, arguing they reflect different contexts:

John 6:44 – Limited Drawing in Jewish Context

• Audience: Jewish listeners under covenantal revelation
• Temporal Setting: During Christ’s earthly ministry
• Scope: Limited to those who have “heard and learned from the Father”
• Mechanism: Through prior revelation in the Law and Prophets

John 12:32 – Universal Drawing After Crucifixion

• Text: “And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all peoples to Myself.”
• Audience: Global, extending beyond Israel to all nations
• Temporal Setting: After Christ’s death and resurrection
• Scope: Universal—”all peoples”
• Mechanism: Through gospel proclamation to all nations

Flowers articulates this distinction:

“He’s not drawing everybody to Himself during the time of John chapter 6… It’s when He’s raised up that He sends the gospel to go into all the world.” —Leighton Flowers

In Flowers’ interpretation, John 6 addresses a specific Jewish context under pre-Christ instruction, while John 12 anticipates the universal gospel invitation following Christ’s redemptive work:

“The Father gave the Son a message to preach which revealed the Son to Israel’s true believers while offending the unbelieving and rebellious.”

Summary of Flowers’ Position

For Flowers, the drawing in John 6 is not an effectual act tied to eternal unconditional election, but a revelatory act aimed at those who have already responded positively to the Father’s word. His key claims include:

1. The drawing is pedagogical (teaching-based), not regenerative
2. It enables belief through instruction, not through irresistible grace
3. It distinguishes between the humble, who receive it, and the hardened, who reject it
4. It operates within the covenant context of Israel
5. It respects human moral agency while preserving divine sovereignty

Flowers argues that the Reformed reading of unconditional election in John 6 relies on unexamined presuppositions:

“If you take the Calvinist’s initial fork in the road… assuming those being drawn are unbelievers needing regeneration… you’ll end up lost and confused in Calvinism’s Enchanted Forest.” —”John 6 Is Not About You”

2. The Role of Human Free Will

Central to Flowers’s interpretation is the emphasis on human libertarian free will. He asserts thaCentral to Flowers’s interpretation is the emphasis on human libertarian free will. He asserts that while God provides the necessary revelation and teaching, the individual’s response is not predetermined. Examining the language of scripture, Flowers notes: “Jesus could have clarified His meaning by saying, ‘This is why I told you no one can come to me unless the Father drags or makes him.’ Jesus had the choice of many Greek words that could have clearly indicated that intention, but Jesus said ‘didomi’ which is typically understood as ‘to grant, permit or enable.'” In his analysis of John 6:44, Flowers highlights the use of the Greek word didomi in John 6:65, interpreting it as evidence that divine grace enables rather than compels, thus reinforcing his concept of resistible grace.

Scholarly Context and Alternative Interpretations

Flowers’s exegetical approach to John 6 represents one perspective in a rich theological landscape. His focus on didomi gains additional nuance when situated within broader scholarly discussions. Flowers elaborates on his position:

“Jesus could have clarified His meaning by saying, ‘This is why I told you no one can come to me unless the Father drags or makes him.’ Jesus had the choice of many Greek words that could have clearly indicated that intention, but Jesus said ‘didomi’ which is typically understood as ‘to grant, permit or enable.'”

This linguistic analysis forms the cornerstone of Flowers’s interpretation, as he argues that the specific Greek terminology reveals divine intention to preserve human agency in the salvation process.

D.A. Carson, in his commentary on John, offers a different interpretation of the passage’s context and meaning. Carson emphasizes that Jesus’ statement about those “given” by the Father relates directly to the phenomenon of unbelief addressed in verse 64.

Carson writes: “‘This’ in ‘This is why’ refers to the phenomenon of unbelief–i.e. Jesus knew in advance that he would be rejected by many, and, knowing this, he earlier explained (vv. 37, 44) the need for the divine initiative which draws those whom the Father has given to the Son and enables them to believe.” In Carson’s view, Jesus is explaining that genuine faith is “never finally a matter of autonomous human decision,” even while humans remain accountable for their unbelief. This interpretation suggests a more deterministic understanding of divine action than Flowers advocates.

J. Ramsey Michaels provides additional context for understanding the terminology in John 6:65. He notes that Jesus’ statement “unless it is given him from the Father” echoes the principle established in John 3:27: “A person cannot receive anything unless it is given him from heaven.” Michaels observes that this language dissolves the metaphor of being “drawn” or “dragged” to God (from verse 44) in favor of a broader concept of divine giving. He writes that these pronouncements “can fairly be regarded as amounting to the same thing,” suggesting an equivalence between being “drawn” by the Father and having faith “given” by the Father.

The Interpretive Tension: Divine Effectuality and Human Response

A significant exegetical issue emerges in Flowers’s interpretation that warrants closer examination. Flowers treats the didomi language in verse 65 as evidence for a non-deterministic understanding of divine action, yet this interpretation potentially undermines the parallel with the “drawing” (helkō) language in verse 44. If, as Michaels suggests, these expressions “amount to the same thing,” then Flowers’s sharp distinction between enabling and compelling grace becomes problematic.

The Greek term helkō used in John 6:44 carries connotations of drawing that suggest effectual action—not merely mechanical dragging, but an effectual wooing that unfailingly accomplishes its purpose. This same verb appears in contexts like John 21:6-11, where it describes fishermen drawing nets full of fish—an action that succeeds despite the weight and resistance involved. The term conveys effectuality without necessarily implying coercion.

Reformed theologians emphasize that this drawing is effectual yet compatible with the transformed desires of those being drawn. It is not merely that God enables people to come (which would still leave the ultimate decision to autonomous human choice), but rather that God’s drawing effectively ensures they will come. As John 6:37 states, “All that the Father gives me will come to me”—the certainty expressed in “will come” (hēxei) suggests an assured outcome rather than a mere possibility.

In this light, Jesus’ restatement using didomi in verse 65 should not be interpreted as weakening the effectual nature of divine drawing in verse 44. Instead, the terms complement each other, with didomi (giving) representing the initiating action of the Father in salvation, and helkō (drawing) representing the effectual means by which the Father brings those given to the Son. Both terms work together to describe a unified divine action that effectively secures the salvation of God’s chosen ones.

Flowers’s interpretation thus faces a significant challenge: explaining why the enabling language of didomi should be read as undermining rather than reinforcing the effectual drawing described earlier. By focusing exclusively on the semantic range of didomi as supporting human libertarian freedom, Flowers may be overlooking the broader Johannine context where divine giving and drawing function as complementary aspects of God’s sovereign salvific work.

This unbreakable connection between divine giving and effectual drawing appears throughout John’s Gospel. In John 17:2, Jesus states that the Father has given him authority over all flesh “to give eternal life to all whom you have given him.” The language of divine giving permeates this chapter, reinforcing the idea that those given by the Father to the Son are effectually drawn to faith and unfailingly receive eternal life.

The theological significance of this interpretive tension extends beyond academic exegesis. It touches on fundamental questions about the nature of salvation itself: Is faith ultimately a human achievement enabled by divine assistance, as Flowers suggests? Or is faith itself a gift that flows from God’s sovereign election, as Reformed theologians maintain? John 6, with its rich interplay of divine giving, drawing, and human response, remains a central text for exploring these profound theological questions.

3. Universality of the Drawing

Dr. Leighton Flowers contends that the “drawing” referenced in John 6:44 was initially directed toward the Jewish audience of Jesus’ earthly ministry but, following the resurrection, extends universally to all people through the proclamation of the gospel. He supports this view by referencing John 12:32, where Jesus states:

“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32)

Flowers elaborates on this by stating:

“After the resurrection, factoring in John 12:32, this graphic shows that Jesus ultimately does draw all men, through the global preaching of the gospel. The Father draws through the Son’s message being proclaimed worldwide, which is why we are commissioned to take that gospel to every creature.”

In this framework, the “drawing” is understood as God’s universal invitation extended through the gospel message. While this invitation is offered to all, Flowers maintains that individuals retain the capacity to either accept or resist this divine initiative. This interpretation stands in contrast to deterministic views that limit the drawing exclusively to the elect. Instead, Flowers argues that the drawing is genuinely universal in scope, aligning with passages that speak of God’s desire for all people to come to repentance and salvation (1 Timothy 2:4, 2 Peter 3:9).

Furthermore, Flowers emphasizes that during Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Father’s drawing was particularly focused on the Jewish people. He notes:

“His strategic purpose is not to reveal Himself and His identity until He accomplishes the resurrection. It’s when He’s raised up that He sends the gospel to go into all the world, but He’s not drawing everybody to Himself during the time of John chapter 6, especially.”

This perspective underscores the transition from a specific focus on the Jewish audience to a universal outreach following the resurrection, highlighting the inclusive nature of the gospel message.

4. Rejection of Total Inability

Rejecting the Reformed doctrine of total depravity, Flowers insists that the Fall did not so corrupt the human will as to render it morally incapable of responding to God. He contends that people retain the inherent ability to choose faith when presented with divine revelation. As he puts it:

“The Traditionalist’s interpretation of John 6 does not have this problem because we do not assume that mankind lost the moral ability to willingly respond to God’s clear revelation due to the Fall…”
— Soteriology 101: John 6: The Drawing

This perspective upholds the belief that while God’s grace is necessary for salvation, it does not override human freedom, and individuals are capable of responding to God’s call.rmed view alone preserves the consistency of Christ’s discourse and the power of divine grace.

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1. Faith Is Coming to the Son—But What Then Is Drawing?

In John 6:35, Jesus equates coming to Him with believing in Him:

“Whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”

This parallel makes clear that coming to Christ = faith in Christ. So in verse 44:

“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him…”

…it follows that no one can believe in Christ unless the Father draws him. That means the drawing is logically and causally prior to faith.

In John 6:35, Jesus says:

“Whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”

Here, “coming” and “believing” are used in parallel, making it clear that to come to Christ is to believe in Him. This correspondence is crucial for interpreting verse 44:

“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.”

Since coming equals believing, Jesus is saying that no one can believe in Him unless the Father draws them. The drawing, then, is logically and causally prior to faith. It is not an enabling that waits passively for human cooperation, but an initiating divine act that secures the response.

Leighton Flowers tries to soften this by making “draw” refer to a general opportunity or moral persuasion through Scripture, but Jesus adds:

“And I will raise him up on the last day.”

This promises that the one drawn is not merely invited—they are preserved and raised. The drawing guarantees eternal life.

Carson emphasizes this point with strong language:

“Jesus’ confidence is in his Father to bring to pass the Father’s redemptive purposes: ‘All that the Father gives me will come to me.’ Jesus’ confidence in the success of his mission is frankly predestinarian.”

He continues that this isn’t a neutral offer but a divine determination. The first half of verse 37—“All that the Father gives me will come to me”—refers to the elect collectively, and “will come” signals the guaranteed outcome. This collective is narrowed to the individual in the second half:

“Whoever comes to me I will never drive away.”

This litotes, Carson says, means more than mere welcome—it signals total preservation: “I will certainly keep them in.”

Flowers, however, wants to flatten this causal link by interpreting drawing as a general opportunity, not an effectual act. But Jesus doesn’t say that the Father merely invites—He says no one can come unless drawn, and then He defines the result: “I will raise him up on the last day.” The drawing is not a hopeful attempt. It is a saving act.

Since coming equals believing, Jesus asserts that no one can believe unless the Father draws them. The Greek term helkysē (draws) denotes a divine initiative that is logically and causally prior to faith. This drawing is not a passive invitation but an active, transformative act of God that ensures faith.

This divine act is regenerative, reorienting the human heart toward Christ. Jesus links the drawing to its outcome in verse 44:

“And I will raise him up on the last day.”

This promise indicates that those drawn are not merely invited but are effectually brought to faith and preserved unto resurrection, securing eternal life.

Leighton Flowers argues that drawing refers to a general opportunity or moral persuasion through Scripture. However, the promise of resurrection suggests a specific, effectual act. Jesus reinforces this in John 6:37:

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.”

D.A. Carson underscores the predestinarian nature of this text:

“Jesus’ confidence is in his Father to bring to pass the Father’s redemptive purposes: ‘All that the Father gives me will come to me.’ Jesus’ confidence in the success of his mission is frankly predestinarian.”

Carson explains that all that the Father gives me refers to the elect collectively, with will come signaling a guaranteed outcome. The second half of verse 37 shifts to the individual (whoever comes), using a litotes (I will never drive away) to emphasize total preservation: “I will certainly keep them in.” This undermines Flowers’s view, which reduces drawing to a non-effectual opportunity, and highlights the regenerative power of God’s initiative.

J. Ramsey Michaels contrib1. Faith Is Coming to the Son—But What Then Is Drawing?

In John 6:35, Jesus establishes a clear parallel between coming to Him and believing in Him:

“Whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”

This equivalence defines faith as a wholehearted trust in Christ as the source of eternal life. To come to Christ is to believe in Him, a truth critical for interpreting John 6:44:

“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.”

Since coming equals believing, Jesus asserts that no one can believe unless the Father draws them. The Greek term helkysē (draws) denotes a divine initiative that is logically and causally prior to faith. This drawing is not a passive invitation but an active, transformative act of God that ensures faith.

This divine act is regenerative, reorienting the human heart toward Christ. Jesus links the drawing to its outcome in verse 44:

“And I will raise him up on the last day.”

This promise indicates that those drawn are not merely invited but are effectually brought to faith and preserved unto resurrection, securing eternal life.

Leighton Flowers argues that drawing refers to a general opportunity or moral persuasion through Scripture. However, the promise of resurrection suggests a specific, effectual act. Jesus reinforces this in John 6:37:

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.”

D.A. Carson underscores the predestinarian nature of this text:

“Jesus’ confidence is in his Father to bring to pass the Father’s redemptive purposes: ‘All that the Father gives me will come to me.’ Jesus’ confidence in the success of his mission is frankly predestinarian.”

Carson explains that all that the Father gives me refers to the elect collectively, with will come signaling a guaranteed outcome. The second half of verse 37 shifts to the individual (whoever comes), using a litotes (I will never drive away) to emphasize total preservation: “I will certainly keep them in.” This undermines Flowers’s view, which reduces drawing to a non-effectual opportunity, and highlights the regenerative power of God’s initiative.

J. Ramsey Michaels contributes further clarity to this point. He writes:

“‘All’ is neuter and singular (literally, ‘everything’), referring to all believers corporately, while the participle (‘the person who comes’) is masculine singular, focusing on any individuals who might ‘come to Jesus’ in the sense of believing in him or giving him their allegiance. God decides who they are, for they are God the Father’s gift to Jesus, and by coming to him they prove that they belong to God.”

Thus, the shift from neuter to masculine in v. 37 underscores that election is both corporate and individually applied. Michaels also remarks:

“There is no indiscriminate ‘Whosoever Will’… Those who ‘come to Jesus’ are those whom the Father gave him, and no one else.”

In other words, divine giving precedes human coming. The believer’s movement toward Christ is the evidence of divine election, not the condition for it. As Michaels notes, even Jesus’s preservation of the believer is an act of divine obedience:

“In promising never to ‘drive out’ those who come, Jesus is simply obeying the Father by accepting the Father’s gift.”

Michaels further comments on Jesus’s mission in v. 38:

“The perfect ‘I have come down’ accents not so much Jesus’ heavenly origin as his ‘present location on earth,’ and his agenda in this world… Rather, he is explaining why he came down: ‘not to do my will but the will of the One who sent me.’”

This aligns Jesus’s incarnational mission with divine will in a way that leaves no ambiguity: every aspect of coming to Christ is initiated and secured by the Father’s sovereign grace. Herman Ridderbos affirms this view:

“What they regard as possible or impossible by their human standards… will never bring them to faith… This demonstrates the powerlessness of the natural person (‘no one’) to come to the salvation disclosed in Christ unless the Father who sent him ‘draws’ that person.”

Ridderbos emphasizes that this inability is not an abstract philosophical claim but an existential reality grounded in the Jewish rejection of Jesus as the one who came from heaven. He continues:

“Although not cited verbatim, the reference [to Isaiah 54:13] is apparently to the statement… where to a confused and needy Israel the promise is given that God himself will impart to them the true knowledge of salvation… Jesus does confront these Jews with the reverse side of this promise: no one will share in this salvation on the basis of his or her own insight and knowledge.”

Therefore, unbelief does not indicate a lack of opportunity but a refusal to come in the way God has appointed—namely, through the Son. Ridderbos notes:

“What prevents ‘the Jews’ from coming to Jesus… is not that salvation is not intended for them but that they do not want to receive it in the manner in which God would give it to them.”

Hence, John 6:44 is not merely a statement of exclusion but a revelation of divine initiative—framed by redemptive promise and fulfilled in sovereign grace.

John 6 intentionally echoes Old Testament wisdom motifs—especially the theme of divine instruction. The quote from Isaiah 54:13 (“They will all be taught by God”) evokes not only the prophetic expectation of the new covenant (Jer. 31:33–34) but also the wisdom tradition where true knowledge and understanding are granted, not discovered. The motif of divine teaching recalls Proverbs 2:6: “For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.”

This theme is not accidental. The unbelief of the crowd, their grumbling, and their appeal to human knowledge (“we know his father and mother,” v. 42) mirror the natural man who cannot receive the things of the Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 2:14). As I’ve discussed in Spirit Gives Life, Flesh Counts for Nothing, the text confronts epistemological presumption with the necessity of divine revelation. Jesus’ words cut through the crowd’s cognitive resistance by anchoring salvation in divine initiative: “No one can come unless…”

Thus, the Johannine concept of drawing functions not only as a soteriological act but as a revelatory act: God gives knowledge, wisdom, and faith—all through the Son. The crowd’s failure to believe is not because the message is unclear, but because the wisdom from above has not been granted to them. The theme returns in John 7:17 and John 8:43–47: those who are of God hear the words of God—not by rational deduction, but because God has enabled them to receive it.

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2. The Drawing Is Not Mere Evangelism or Scripture Exposure

FloLeighton Flowers redefines the Father’s drawing (John 6:44) and teaching (John 6:45) as general exposure to the Old Testament or God’s message, aligning with his synergistic framework where God initiates but humans determine the outcome. This reading fails on multiple fronts:

A. Scriptural Exposure Doesn’t Guarantee Faith

The Pharisees, immersed in the Scriptures, are a counterexample. In John 5:39–40, Jesus rebukes them:

“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.”

If drawing were mere Scriptural exposure, the Pharisees would have been drawn. Their refusal shows that knowledge alone is insufficient, contradicting Flowers’s view. As Ridderbos notes, this text “demonstrates the powerlessness of the natural person” to attain salvation apart from divine initiative. Exposure is not illumination.

J. Ramsey Michaels similarly notes that Jesus’s words in John 6 are not mere invitations but explanations for why many do not come. Jesus is not simply extending an offer to His Jewish hearers; He is disclosing why they cannot and will not come apart from divine drawing. He writes:

“Jesus is not so much inviting these Galilean ‘Jews’ to ‘come to him’ as providing the reader… with an explanation why they would not and could not come. They do not come to Jesus because they are not ‘drawn’ or ‘dragged’ to him.”

The inability of the crowd mirrors the spiritual blindness detailed in John 5 and anticipated in John 1:12–13. Human will and rational knowledge alone are insufficient for true, saving response.

Herman Ridderbos ties this to the prophetic background:

“What prevents ‘the Jews’ from coming to Jesus… is not that salvation is not intended for them but that they do not want to receive it in the manner in which God would give it to them.”

Their unbelief is not due to divine exclusion, but divine purpose that offends natural pride. They will not accept the terms of grace.

Michaels also connects this rejection to the murmuring motif (v. 41), echoing Israel’s grumbling in the wilderness. The parallel evokes the Exodus generation that rejected God’s provision despite clear revelation. The crowd’s grumbling reveals not confusion alone, but covenantal resistance.

B. Jesus Asserts 100% Effectual Success

John 6:45 states:

“Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.”

The language is absolute: everyone taught by the Father comes. This certainty reflects effectual grace, not a general opportunity. The participles heard and learned are not hypothetical or potential but realities grounded in divine action. As Ridderbos comments, “No one can come to me” is not just a restriction—it is a theological unveiling of human impotence apart from grace.

Michaels strengthens this reading by pointing out that Jesus is not offering commentary on general human ability but is disclosing a divine reality rooted in the covenantal promises of the prophets. The logic is tight: those who are taught by God come to Christ. There are no exceptions or breakdowns in the chain.

This also echoes John 3:27, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven,” highlighting the monergistic nature of redemptive reception.

Ridderbos notes that the shift from divine exclusion to universal promise is strategic. Jesus uses the absolute statement of human inability (v. 44) to emphasize the necessary fulfillment of divine prophecy (v. 45). The tension between the divine promise and human failure is not resolved by synergism but by regeneration.

C. Jesus Explains Drawing by Internal Instruction and Regeneration

Jesus cites Isaiah 54:13:

“And they will all be taught by God.”

This quotation, fulfilled in the messianic community, points to a covenantal, internal teaching. D.A. Carson elaborates on this regenerative dimension:

“Jesus proceeds to explain what kind of ‘drawing’ (v. 44) the Father exercises… by an insight, a teaching, an illumination implanted within the individual, in fulfillment of the Old Testament promise…”

Michaels affirms that this divine teaching is not raw information but a salvific act. It echoes Jeremiah 31 and Ezekiel 36—where the law is written on hearts and the Spirit causes obedience. This is not general revelation but new creation. The initiative belongs to God. As Michaels further notes, this hearing and learning are “tied to the revelatory presence of Jesus himself.”

Ridderbos again deepens the context: “By appealing to this promise of salvation vis-à-vis Jews, Jesus therefore does not a priori exclude Jews: in the ‘all’ of prophecy the universal character of God’s redemptive will is implied.” But he adds that the rejection by the Jews stems from their refusal to come on God’s terms. Drawing is not against the will—but it overcomes the will.

Ridderbos also critiques Bultmann’s proposal that “draw” in this context means “let oneself be drawn.” He writes:

“This exegesis has correctly been rejected… as not in keeping with ‘hearing’ and ‘learning’ totally determined by the divine will to save.”

Jesus’s words should not be diluted into vague mystical receptivity; they are firmly rooted in covenant fulfillment and divine power. The teaching is covenantal and effectual, not ambient or optional.

Michaels adds that the language of Isaiah 54:13 is not incidental. It corresponds to the eschatological hope of divine instruction found in post-exilic prophetic literature. The promise that “all your children shall be taught by the LORD” signified restoration, new heart reception, and divine reconciliation. Jesus now claims that this prophecy is fulfilled in His own ministry.

D. The Exclusivity of Jesus as Mediator

John 6:46 clarifies:

“Not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father.”

The Father’s teaching is mediated through the Son (cf. John 1:18; 14:6–7), ensuring that those taught are drawn to Christ specifically. As Ridderbos puts it, the teaching “is not realized in the immediacy of ‘seeing’ God, but only through the mediation of him who is from God.”

Jesus, as the one who has seen the Father, is the unique revealer. Thus, any genuine hearing from the Father leads necessarily to believing in the Son. The Trinitarian coherence of the passage leaves no room for disjunction between divine instruction and saving faith in Christ.

Ridderbos offers an important theological summary:

“No one comes to the Son unless drawn by the Father. But, along with that, no one hears the vivifying voice of God except in the Son… everything issues in that believing ‘hearing’ in the great emphatic conclusion for all.”

The order is not mechanical but unified. The drawing, the hearing, and the coming are all part of one sovereign, Trinitarian act of revelation and salvation.

Carson also underscores this unity:

“The drawing is nothing less than the Father’s action in bringing about new birth through the word of the Son, in fulfillment of prophetic expectation.”

Thus, to be taught by God is to receive divine wisdom through the Son—wisdom granted, not discovered. The act of coming to Christ is an epistemological and spiritual miracle, not a moral conclusion.

The cumulative witness of John 6:44–46, therefore, is a testament to the grace of God that overcomes blindness, grants knowledge, and irresistibly draws the elect to the Son through the Spirit and the Word. It is a revelation of new covenant fulfillment through a Christ-centered epistemology rooted in divine initiative and preserved by Trinitarian harmony.

C. Jesus Explains Drawing by Internal Instruction

Jesus proceeds to explain what kind of ‘drawing’ (v. 44) the Father exercises. When he compels belief, it is not by the savage constraint of a rapist, but by the wonderful wooing of a lover. Otherwise put, it is by an insight, a teaching, an illumination implanted within the individual, in fulfillment of the Old Testament promise, They will all be taught by God. This is a paraphrase of Isaiah 54:13, addressed to the restored city of Jerusalem that the prophet foresees: ‘All your sons will be taught by the LORD, and great will be your children’s peace.’ The passage is here applied typologically: in the New Testament the messianic community and the dawning of the saving reign of God are the typological fulfillments of the restoration of Jerusalem after the Babylonian exile.
In fact, this need for internal illumination is a commonplace of both Testaments. Jeremiah looks forward to a new covenant when God will put his law in the minds of his people, and write it on their hearts (Je. 31:31–34). In Ezekiel, God promises a new heart and a new spirit (Ezk. 36:24–26). The prophet Joel anticipates the time when God will pour out his Spirit not only on Jews but on all people (2:28ff.). In the Fourth Gospel, the new-birth language of John 3 announces the fulfillment of these prospects (cf. notes on 3:5). Jesus in the Farewell Discourse promises the coming of the Holy Spirit—with a teaching role (14:26–27; 16:12–15). This is equivalent to the ‘anointing from the Holy One’ (1 Jn. 2:20, 26–27). Cf. also 1 Corinthians 2:9–16; 2 Corinthians 3:4–4:6; Hebrews 8:6–10:18. Even the confession of Peter at Caesarea Philippi owed everything to the revelation of the Father (Mt. 16:17 par.). ‘Those who receive this divine illumination and respond to it show by their coming to Christ that they are children and citizens of the new Jerusalem, as the prophet foretold’ (Bruce, p. 157).
6:46. Some take this verse to be a parenthetical remark by the Evangelist, since at first glance its connection with the preceding is obscure. But the connection, once seen, is profound. Verse 45 must not be interpreted to mean that a person may enjoy a direct, personal, mystical knowledge of God apart from the revelation that has been given in Jesus, not even if in consequence of such an experience he or she then becomes a follower of Jesus. Only Jesus has seen the Father; no-one has seen God except the one who is from God (cf. 1:18; 3:13; 14:7ff.). Jesus himself is the mediator of such knowledge: he is the one who ‘narrates’ God (cf. 1:18; 12:45). Thus, however much people are unable to ‘hear’ Jesus because of their moral delinquency (8:43), however much they can hear him only if they are ‘taught by God’, it is simultaneously true to say that they are ‘taught by God’ if and only if they truly ‘hear’ Jesus. Only then will they be truly attracted to him. The argument is of course circular, but not vicious.
6:47–48. With yet another strong Assertive (cf. on 1:51), Jesus repeats the thought of 3:15. Notwithstanding the strong note of predestinarian thought in the preceding verses, this is an implicit invitation to believe, an implicit warning against unbelief. In this context, however, it strips the would-be disciple of all pretensions, of all self-congratulation, of all agendas save those laid down by Jesus himself. Those who believe, in a context like this, cannot approach Jesus as if they are doing him a favour, or, worse, as if they know what is best for him (as in 6:14–15). They must believe—but they do so on his terms, and by his grace. And their immediate inheritance and possession is everlasting life (NIV—the same Gk. expression stands behind ‘eternal life’ in v. 40).
All this, then, is what Jesus meant by saying I am the bread of life (v. 48; cf. v. 35). These two verses form ‘the natural conclusion of this pattern of exegetical debate’ (Borgen, p. 86).

D. A. Carson, The Gospel according to John, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Leicester, England; Grand Rapids, MI: Inter-Varsity Press; W.B. Eerdmans, 1991), 290–294.

Verse 45 functions as a ground for verse 44. Jesus appeals to Isaiah 54:13 to say that the Father’s drawing takes the form of covenantal, internal teaching. This isn’t broad Old Testament evangelism—it’s the fulfillment of the prophetic promise that God will personally teach His people.

So the drawing of the Father is not less than Scripture exposure, but it is far more. It is the inward illumination and enablement of the elect, such that they infallibly come.

E. Divine Wisdom Must Be Granted, Not Gained

Several commentators highlight the critical theme that divine wisdom—symbolized as bread—must be granted from above and cannot be acquired through natural reasoning. This further dismantles Flowers’s synergistic reading.

Craig Keener draws attention to the Jewish tradition where bread often symbolized divine wisdom and Torah:

“Wisdom will feed a person with the ‘bread’ of understanding (Sir 15:3)… Wisdom declares that whoever eats and drinks from her will hunger and thirst for more (Sir 24:21). Philo affirmed wisdom and discourses of wisdom to be heavenly food… The law itself could be understood as comparing God’s words with bread, declaring the former to be greater than the latter (Deut 8:3).”

Keener emphasizes that Jesus is the embodiment of this heavenly wisdom:

“Jesus is not only greater than Moses; he epitomized the very wisdom or Torah that God sent through Moses.”

And again:

“Now, as the divine revealer and giver of the life of the age to come, Jesus claims to fulfil and surpass what Torah, Wisdom and the Logos would have signified for first-century Judaism.”

This places John 6:45’s “taught by God” in direct continuity with Old Testament wisdom traditions. The heavenly bread is not mere law—it is the incarnate Logos, and to eat this bread is to receive divine wisdom not through speculation, but by revelation. Jesus is not simply offering insights about God; He is the epistemological fulfillment of divine wisdom.

Andrew Lincoln complements this reading by showing that Jesus intentionally challenges his audience’s carnal assumptions:

“To imagine that Jesus’ words were to be taken in any literal cannibalistic sense would be to remain on the purely earthly level of understanding, in the same way that Nicodemus had earlier understood the language of being born again as having to enter the womb a second time.”

Thus, John’s narrative intentionally contrasts divine revelation with human presumption. The misunderstanding of the Jews in John 6 parallels the misreadings of Nicodemus in John 3 and the Samaritan woman in John 4. In each case, the audience assumes a literal, earthly referent. But Jesus always speaks from above—of Spirit, not flesh.

Keener and Lincoln both point out that the bread motif evokes not just manna, but Wisdom and Torah—bread that descends from heaven. In this context, coming to Jesus means embracing Him as the full and final embodiment of divine wisdom.

Kostenberger likewise observes:

“In Judaism, the Torah was commonly called ‘bread’… ‘bread’ and ‘water’ symbolism was applied to salvation, the law, the Scriptures, and wisdom.”

But this bread is now redefined in Christ. He is not merely one more heavenly messenger but the source and substance of the revelation itself. Thus, divine teaching in John 6 is not moral persuasion, Torah instruction, or cognitive exposition. It is revelatory participation in the Son. As Lincoln puts it:

“To have listened to the Father does not, however, put believers in precisely the same category as Jesus himself: Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God.”

The gap between seeing and hearing, between wisdom granted and wisdom assumed, is bridged only through Christ.

This contextual framework upholds Ridderbos’s assertion:

“No one will share in this salvation on the basis of his or her own insight and knowledge.”

Rather, they must be taught by God through the Son, the Logos made flesh. Divine wisdom must be granted—never reasoned toward—just as no one comes unless the Father draws.

Hence, the misunderstanding of the crowd (John 6:34, 42, 52) is not accidental—it reflects the necessary distinction between natural and spiritual understanding. Just as Nicodemus failed to grasp being “born again” and the woman at the well misunderstood “living water,” so the Jews misunderstand the bread. In all these cases, John shows that human categories must be transcended by divine illumination.

The drawing and teaching of the Father, therefore, are nothing less than the granting of divine wisdom through the Son, in fulfillment of Old Testament expectation and surpassing even the manna of old. Jesus is the final, full Bread from heaven, who not only instructs but gives eternal life. Those who eat—those drawn and taught—live forever.

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3. A Dilemma for Flowers: Either Failure, Redundancy, or Hermeneutical Explosion

Flowers’s synergistic framework forces him into an untenable dilemma regarding the Father’s drawing. Jimmy Stephens (HT: Satan For Christ) sharpens this critique by examining what Flowers believes the term draws expresses, revealing three problematic options. Each one either contradicts Scripture, reduces divine agency to redundancy, or introduces a hermeneutical instability that collapses biblical meaning.

Option 1: The Father’s Teaching Automatically Leads to Faith (but Isn’t Effectual)

If the Father’s drawing is merely the provision of revelation—Scripture, preaching, or opportunity—then everyone who is exposed to this drawing should come to Christ. Yet John 5:39–40 refutes this. Jesus rebukes the Jewish leaders:

“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.”

Exposure to revelation is insufficient. The drawing described in John 6 must go beyond informational access. It must account for why everyone who is drawn is raised up (v. 44) and why everyone who hears and learns comes (v. 45).

If Flowers claims that God draws by simply providing truth but not ensuring its reception, he introduces divine inefficacy. The drawing fails to achieve its goal. This contradicts Jesus’s own statement that those who are drawn will infallibly come and be raised. As Carson puts it, this is not a vague offer but a “frankly predestinarian” guarantee of salvation.

Alternatively, if Flowers tries to retain divine agency by saying the Father draws in a way that leads to faith, he undermines his entire libertarian framework. To say that God causes belief in any way consistent with John 6:44 would mean God ensures it—which is to say, God determines the outcome. But this is the very thing Flowers denies. Hence, Option 1 either makes God’s drawing a failure or makes God sovereign in a way that collapses Provisionism.

Option 2: The Outcome Depends on Human Response

In this version, the Father draws, but whether someone comes to Christ depends on how the person responds. This preserves libertarian free will at the cost of logical coherence. For it collapses into tautology:

You come to Christ because you choose to respond to God’s invitation—meaning you choose to believe in order to believe.

But John 6 says that no one can come unless drawn, and everyone who is drawn comes. If the drawing merely creates the opportunity, then the determining factor is no longer the Father’s action but the individual’s choice. Divine agency becomes a background condition, not a sufficient cause.

This also turns Jesus’s declaration into a general platitude: “No one can believe unless God helps—but that help doesn’t guarantee anything.” It strips the statement of its force and inserts human autonomy into a context designed to dismantle it. As Ridderbos notes, Jesus’s point is that “no one will share in this salvation on the basis of his or her own insight and knowledge.”

John 6:65 later reaffirms this: “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.” If drawing depends on human acceptance, then granting is not really granting—it’s proposing. But the entire context makes clear that what is granted is decisive.

Option 3: Hermeneutical Explosion Through Multiplied Agents

To avoid saying God’s drawing fails or overrides free will, Flowers treats divine drawing as a mere occasion for human decision-making. But this raises a hermeneutical disaster. If “the Father draws” really means “the Father gives people the chance to draw themselves,” then biblical agency becomes equivocal. We can no longer trust statements attributing agency to God.

Jimmy Stephens highlights the absurdity with a mundane illustration: If someone says “my wife is making dinner,” we do not assume she is merely laying out groceries for someone else to cook. The verb implies primary agency unless context says otherwise.

Likewise, in Genesis 1:1, “God created the heavens and the earth” cannot mean “God enabled others to create.” Such reinterpretation violates basic grammar and narrative structure. Applying that method to John 6:44 (“The Father draws”) inserts a second agent where the text only speaks of one. It turns a divine act into a divine possibility.

Stephens further points out that this model of agency multiplication ends up emptying the biblical text of any functional authority. If we read every divine verb as merely the permissive framework for a human initiative, we make divine action grammatically indistinguishable from moral suggestion. The verb draws is reduced from effectual calling to rhetorical framing.

This leads to what Stephens calls a “hermeneutical explosion”—a kind of interpretive collapse where any sentence about divine action becomes endlessly modifiable by our theology. If we say, “The Father draws,” and mean, “The Father lets humans decide to draw themselves,” then we could equally read, “Christ saves,” as “Christ offers salvation but waits for man to actualize it.” Scripture becomes a canvas for our presuppositions rather than a source of correction.

Stephens emphasizes that this is not merely a lexical dispute—it is an epistemological crisis. If divine agency is constantly redefined to preserve libertarian autonomy, then even clear revelatory acts become subject to reinterpretation. The theological center of gravity shifts from what God does to what man might do in response. As Stephens often argues, this reflects an inversion of the Creator-creature distinction: God no longer reveals and acts, but facilitates and invites.

Moreover, Stephens underscores that this approach hollows out the practical value of redemptive promises. If divine actions like “draws,” “raises,” or “keeps” do not guarantee results, then believers are left with only potentialities—not assurances. This results in what Stephens terms doctrinal entropy—the erosion of confidence in Scripture’s meaning due to the infiltration of humanistic interpretive assumptions. The erosion is subtle but pervasive, degrading theological precision across doctrines like justification, regeneration, and perseverance.

He also observes that this explosion extends beyond John 6. If we can reinterpret “draws” as “offers,” then Romans 8:30 (“those whom he called he also justified”) could mean “those whom he invited might respond and then be justified.” This relativizes salvation itself. Thus, Flowers’s system implicitly rewrites soteriology through semantic erosion.

J. Ramsey Michaels supports the traditional reading:

“They do not come to Jesus because they are not ‘drawn’ or ‘dragged’ to him. The verb is used literally of drawing a sword or dragging a net of fish—language of decisive force.”

Thus, the verb helkō demands effective agency. To say otherwise is to invent a second subject not found in the text. This multiplies interpretive options and opens the door to theological chaos. If draw really means “makes drawing possible,” then create could mean “make creating possible,” and raise could mean “make resurrection available.” Every action becomes an opportunity, not a guarantee. This is a hermeneutical explosion.

Andrew Lincoln reinforces this by noting that divine initiative is essential:

“It is impossible for humans to have the proper perspective on his origin and identity unless God takes the initiative and enables them to believe.”

This theological blindness is a major theme in John. The crowd sees Jesus and does not believe (6:36), not because the evidence is lacking, but because the Father has not drawn them. Jesus does not interpret their unbelief as neutral or incomplete—it is the result of lacking divine action.

Hence, Flowers’s theology requires an exegetical sleight of hand: redefining verbs, softening absolutes, and inserting human conditions where none exist. The result is that Jesus’s statements no longer mean what they say.

By contrast, the Reformed reading preserves the plain sense. The Father’s drawing is effectual. Everyone drawn comes. Everyone who comes is raised. The agent is one, the action is complete, and the outcome is certain. Divine sovereignty is not diluted to preserve free will—it is proclaimed to secure salvation.

John 6 is not about the potential to believe. It is about the power of God to save. Any reading that re-centers the text on human decision inevitably fractures its logic, overturns its language, and dissolves its theological clarity.ters the text on human decision inevitably fractures its logic, overturns its language, and dissolves its theological clarity. the “teaching” of the Father is an inward sovereign act that actually causes the coming.

To underscore this, Stephens frames the issue concisely:

“If [‘draws’] expresses only God’s agency to bring about consequent belief, then that means God causes us to believe, contra Provisionism. But if it expresses only man’s agency, or if it expresses God’s agency as a mere occasion for man’s agency, then that means man’s choice to believe causes us to believe. This is circular.”

He continues:

“Worse, this sets up hermeneutical explosion. Jesus verbally attributes the determining agency to God. He says the Father draws. He does not mention a libertarian voice to believe on the part of Jews; much less does he attribute to such libertarian agency the drawing. The drawing is done by the Father where explicit verbage is concerned.

To save his libertarianism, Flowers takes this explicit attribution of agency to the Father to be about someone else entirely. On Flowers’s view, saying x brings about y can mean x occasions z bringing about y. Why think Jesus means that by saying the Father draws?

Imagine I said, ‘My wife’s making dinner.’ Would it be reasonable to assume that I mean something like, ‘my wife brought the ingredients so that Jeffrey from down the street could prepare them into a meal’? Context would tell. Unfortunately for Flowers, nothing in the text supports his insertion.”

Stephens then sets out the hermeneutical principle violated:

“The natural reading, whenever we attribute a consequence to someone’s agency, is that they are the agent, the important one, the determining factor, and not merely an occasion for someone else to be the determining factor. When we read, ‘In the beginning God created,’ it would be ludicrous to suggest this means God was merely giving the angels what they needed to create the universe.

When we read various passages that attribute God inspiring the Scriptures or giving oracles to His people, it would be convenient projection to say that’s God giving us what we need to know in order to make up the contents of Scripture on our own.”

And finally, the crushing conclusion:

“The hermeneutic principle here is that we don’t assume more agents than necessary. Otherwise we wouldn’t know who the text is really holding responsible. We let the text specify who brings about what without [interference], because generally, we talk about who is responsible for what by picking out those agents who are the determining factors, not merely occasions for the determining agents.

Flowers multiplies the agents more than the text necessitates. To say God draws in no way suggests, by itself, that God is merely enabling Jews to draw themselves. No surrounding context from Jesus suggests this bizarre insertion of libertarianism. So the only motive remaining for Flowers is to upend the above hermeneutic principle.

Flowers reads John 6 as if, when someone x attributes agency to someone y to explain a consequence, that someone y can just as well be the mere occasion for someone else z, z’s agency. This blows up the Bible.

It means that whenever we read the Bible describe someone bringing something about, it would be just as normal by default to read that attribution as one of determining agency or as one of merely occasioning someone else’s. God’s creation in Genesis? Yeah, the angels thing is now a legit candidate reading that isn’t ruled out prima facie.”

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4. The Circularity of “Learning from the Father” as Belief

One of the more subtle but devastating internal problems in Flowers’s reading emerges when we examine his claim that “hearing and learning from the Father” refers to the act of believing the Old Testament Scriptures. According to Flowers, those who heed the Father’s prior teaching—namely through the Torah, prophets, or general revelation—are those who are then more disposed or prepared to come to Christ.

But this leads to a conceptual collapse. In John 5:46–47, Jesus rebukes the Jews not for failing to read or engage with Moses, but for failing to believe Moses. The failure is not cognitive but spiritual:

“If you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me. But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe my words?”

This highlights a crucial Johannine link: true engagement with the Father’s word is not preparatory for belief in Jesus; it is belief in Jesus. Thus, to “hear and learn from the Father” is not an antecedent epistemological step distinct from faith in the Son. It is itself the result of divine instruction and regeneration, as Ridderbos emphasizes:

“The content of the first clause is true also of those who have ‘heard and learned from the Father.’ That which God has caused them to hear and understand is not realized in the immediacy of ‘seeing’ God, but only through the mediation of him who is from God and who descended from heaven.”

To hear and learn from the Father is therefore a function of grace—not autonomous cognition. The text of John 6:45 does not speak of people who previously believe the Father apart from the Son, and only then come to the Son. Rather, Jesus insists that all those who are taught by the Father come to Him. The hearing and learning is fulfilled in the coming.

Thus, Flowers’s model creates a circular and self-defeating structure:

“You believe in the Father, so that you may believe in the Son. But the only way to believe in the Father is to believe in the Son.”

This leads to epistemological incoherence. If one must first believe the Father in order to come to the Son, but cannot believe the Father apart from the Son (cf. John 8:19; 14:6–7), then the entire sequence collapses into a vicious circle.

Jimmy Stephens points this out in related discussions:

“You cannot say that one comes to believe in Christ because he already believes in the Father, when Christ himself says that no one knows the Father unless they know the Son. That knowledge of the Father is not a stepping stone to Christ, but the fruit of union with Christ.”

This aligns with Jesus’s rebuke in John 8:42:

“If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and I am here.”

The implication is clear: anyone who truly belongs to the Father already comes to the Son. The causal order Flowers tries to impose is precisely the one Jesus denies. As Stephens further argues:

“The knowledge of the Father is not natural. It is not deduced from the law. It is revealed in the Son. And Jesus states emphatically that no one knows the Father apart from him. So how could anyone learn from the Father while rejecting the Son? That is precisely what Jesus says cannot happen.”

Keener echoes this logic in his commentary, noting that the text is shaped to confront unbelief—not to commend partial faith:

“Jesus asserts that all who are taught by God come to him—not that some taught by God are better positioned to make a free decision. The context is polemical: it explains why the Jews do not believe. They were not taught by God.”

Indeed, John 6:45 is not an open invitation to self-discovery. It is a decisive pronouncement of divine discrimination—between those drawn and those left in blindness. Jesus offers no middle category.

In Flowers’s framework, one is prepared to believe the Son by believing the Father’s revelation, which is intelligible and persuasive on its own terms. But Jesus’s theology denies this. In John 6:36, Jesus says to the crowd:

“You have seen me and yet do not believe.”

They saw, heard, and were biblically literate. Yet they remained outside because they had not been drawn. The failure was not a lack of intellectual preparation but a lack of divine action. If “learning from the Father” were possible through unregenerate engagement with Scripture, the Jews would have come. But Jesus makes clear: everyone who has heard and learned comes. Therefore, they had not truly learned.

To sum up: Flowers turns “learning from the Father” into a pre-faith human activity that enables faith in Christ. But Jesus makes it the divine cause of coming to Christ. To separate the learning from the coming is to separate what Christ has joined. The result is not merely a theological misstep—it is a fatal contradiction.

The Reformed view resolves the text’s logic with theological coherence: learning from the Father is the Spirit-wrought work of illumination, fulfilled in the drawing, manifest in the coming, and culminating in faith. All glory belongs to the Triune God.

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5. Does the Father Fail? Flowers’s Functional Denial of Divine Power

FlowerOne of the most theologically serious implications of Flowers’s view is the implicit denial of the efficacy of the Father’s teaching. According to Jesus, everyone who hears and learns from the Father comes to the Son (John 6:45), and everyone who comes to the Son will be raised on the last day (6:44). The chain is unbroken. But in Flowers’s framework, the Father teaches many, yet only some choose to come. The rest resist, reject, or fail to respond.

This breaks the chain Christ explicitly links together. It implies that the Father can attempt to teach and draw, but that his action may ultimately fail unless ratified by human will. This is tantamount to attributing failure to divine agency—not by commission, but by omission. And it undercuts the Son’s role as well, for Jesus promises not to cast out any who come to him (6:37), and to raise up those drawn by the Father (6:44). If drawing does not ensure coming, and coming does not ensure resurrection, then the Triune God’s saving work is reduced to tentative hopefulness.

Jimmy Stephens underscores this inconsistency:

“On John 6, the reason some do not believe is not that the drawing failed—it is that they were not drawn. That’s the logic of Jesus’s own explanation. He is not explaining why people do believe, but why some don’t.”

Indeed, in John’s Gospel, failure to believe is never interpreted as a failure of divine initiative but as the absence of it. Jesus says plainly in 10:26:

“But you do not believe because you are not among my sheep.”

He does not say, “You are my sheep, but you chose not to believe.” The logic is causal: their unbelief proves their exclusion, not their resistance. Similarly, in John 8:47:

“Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God.”

Jesus roots hearing not in the will of man, but in one’s belonging to God. Flowers reverses this: hearing is made contingent on one’s choice, rendering God’s action secondary.

D.A. Carson captures the gravity of this point:

“Jesus’ confidence in the success of his mission is frankly predestinarian… The will of the Father will be accomplished.”

In contrast, Flowers’s theology makes divine intention contingent on libertarian ratification. God desires, teaches, and draws—but is often disappointed. This is more akin to the open theist framework he elsewhere rejects than the Johannine theology of effectual grace.

Moreover, if the Father’s drawing does not ensure faith, then the Son’s promise to raise those drawn becomes uncertain. Jesus states:

“And I will raise him up on the last day.” (6:44)

This is not conditional language. It is declarative and emphatic. The same “him” who is drawn is the one who is raised. If some drawn are not raised, then Jesus’s words fail. And if his words fail, then the gospel collapses.

Therefore, Flowers’s theology, even if unintentionally, compromises the unity and integrity of the Triune God’s saving work. The Father draws ineffectually, the Son promises conditionally, and the Spirit enables optionally. But John presents a different picture: a sovereign Father who draws effectually, a faithful Son who receives and raises infallibly, and a Spirit who gives life irresistibly (cf. John 3:8; 6:63).

The Reformed position alone preserves the coherence and glory of divine sovereignty in salvation. The Father never fails in his drawing. The Son never fails in his receiving. And the Spirit never fails in his giving of life. In this Triune work, salvation is secured, not speculated.

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Conclusion: The Father Does Not Fail

John 6 does not present a general offer awaiting libertarian consent. It declares the sovereign, gracious, effectual work of the Father in salvation:

• He gives a people to the Son.
• He draws them with inward grace.
• He teaches them with covenantal instruction.
• And they come. Without fail.

Leighton Flowers must reinterpret every term—giving, drawing, teaching, learning, coming—to defend libertarianism. But in doing so, he empties Jesus’s words of their force and fractures the unity of the Godhead.

The Reformed view alone preserves the meaning of the text and the majesty of divine grace:

The Father draws. The Son receives. The Spirit gives life. None are lost.

Helkō in Biblical Greek: A Word Study on Effectual Drawing

The Greek verb ἕλκω (helkō, also spelled helkuō) plays a pivotal role in the interpretation of John 6:44, where Jesus declares, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” The theological stakes surrounding this verb are high, especially in debates between Calvinists and synergists like Leighton Flowers. Does helkō mean to gently invite, or does it mean to effectually bring someone to a new position or state? This article will examine every major usage of helkō and its compound exhelkō in the New Testament, Septuagint, Josephus, and Philo to determine whether it ever means something less than effectual drawing.

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I. Overview of the Controversy

Leighton Flowers, a prominent critic of Calvinism, argues that the Father’s drawing in John 6:44 refers to an external and resistible invitation—specifically through the Old Testament Scriptures or general revelation. However, his position hinges on the assumption that the Greek word helkō can mean “invite,” “enable,” or something non-effectual. Chris Date, a Calvinist apologist, directly challenges this reading by engaging in a lexical and contextual analysis of every significant use of helkō and exhelkō. His findings support the Reformed view that the drawing is effectual.

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II. Uses of ἕλκω (helkō) in the Gospel of John

1. John 6:44 — “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.”
   • Effectual? Yes. The one drawn is the one who comes and is raised up on the last day.
2. John 12:32 — “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”
   • Effectual? Yes. The parallel with 6:44 implies successful drawing. Jesus uses helkō in a way that aligns with divine success.
3. John 18:10 — “Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it.”
   • Effectual? Yes. The sword changes position—a straightforward physical action.
4. John 21:6 — “They were not able to haul [the net] in.”
   • Effectual? No, but note: they attempted to helkō, but the text explicitly states they failed. It distinguishes between attempt and success.
5. John 21:11 — “Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore.”
   • Effectual? Yes. Peter completes the act. The net is drawn to shore.

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III. Elsewhere in the New Testament

6. Acts 16:19 — Paul and Silas are dragged to the authorities.
   • Effectual? Yes. They are forcibly moved.
7. Acts 21:30 — Paul is dragged out of the temple.
   • Effectual? Yes. Physical movement.
8. James 2:6 — The rich drag believers into court.
   • Effectual? Yes. Coercive legal action.

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IV. Josephus: Historical-Contextual Support

9. Antiquities 5.4.5 — An army is drawn out by a feigned retreat.
   • Effectual? Yes. The army is successfully lured.
10. Life 76 — Attempt to draw Josephus into a trap.

• Effectual? No. It states the purpose was to draw him, but it failed. Again, the text distinguishes between intent and effect.

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V. Septuagint (LXX) Examples

11. Genesis 37:28 (LXX) — Joseph is drawn from the pit.

• Effectual? Yes. Literal extraction.

12. 3 Maccabees 5:48 — The king is drawn away from danger.

• Effectual? Yes. Success in removal.

13. Job 36:20 (LXX) — “Draw not forth the mighty by night.”

• Effectual? Yes. Prescriptive command assumes successful action.

14. Job 20:15 (LXX) — A messenger drags someone from a house.

• Effectual? Yes. Implied coercion.

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VI. Philo of Alexandria

15. Legatio 35 — Crowds are drawn by curiosity.

• Effectual? Yes. Psychological drawing that produces movement.

16. Somnium 1.244 — The soul is drawn toward wisdom.

• Effectual? Yes. Moral and spiritual movement.

17. Spec. 1.202 — Drawn toward vice.

• Effectual? Yes. Change in moral orientation.

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VII. The Case of Nehemiah 9:30

Flowers appeals to Nehemiah 9:30 (LXX) to show a failed divine drawing:

Greek: ἐχέλκου αὐτοὺς ἐν ἔτεσιν πολλοῖς
“You drew them in many years…”

Chris Date counters this appeal decisively:

1. The Greek syntax indicates a prepositional phrase (ἐν ἔτεσιν πολλοῖς), not a clear direct object.
2. The direct object may even be “many years” (accusative), not “them.”
3. The verse depicts God’s longsuffering, not a failed internal drawing.
4. The verb helkō is not used transitively with a direct object and thus is not semantically parallel to John 6:44.

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VIII. The Compound: ἐξέλκω (exhelkō)

In James 1:14, we find:

“Each person is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own desire.”

The verb here is exhelkō, a compound of ek (out of) + helkō.

• Commentators (e.g., Moo, McKnight, Davids) confirm: it depicts a decisive internal pull that results in sin unless checked.
• Major translations (NIV, NLT, LEB) render this as “dragged away”, supporting an effectual sense.
• Even here, the verb signals not mere opportunity but decisive influence.

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IX. Summary and Theological Implications

In every case where helkō or exhelkō is used transitively with a direct object, the action is effectual. When it is not effectual, the text explicitly signals this by stating the action failed. There is no instance where the verb on its own means merely “invite” or “offer an opportunity.”

Therefore, John 6:44 cannot be referring to a universal, resistible call via general revelation or Scripture. The drawing of the Father is decisive. It ensures that the person comes to Christ and is raised on the last day. To say otherwise is to flatten the meaning of helkō, to disregard its lexical consistency, and to deny the unity of the Father’s sovereign purpose.

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Are John 6 and John 12 Referring to Different Drawings? It Doesn’t Matter

Some argue—Leighton Flowers among them—that the drawing in John 6:44 and John 12:32 should not be conflated. In his debate with James White, Flowers states:

“I agree with Dr. White, that is a different context. I think Arminians, some of them, make a mistake by trying to… make them as if they’re the same setting or the same drawing, because they’re very different.”¹

According to Flowers, John 6 refers to the Father drawing faithful Israelites who had listened to Moses, while John 12 refers to Jesus drawing all peoples through the post-resurrection gospel proclamation. But even if this distinction is granted, it supports rather than undermines the Calvinist position. If the contexts and referents are different, then John 12 cannot be used to qualify, diminish, or override the meaning of “draw” in John 6:44—where all who are drawn are explicitly said to come and be raised on the last day.

Yet even more fatal to the opposing position is this: even if the drawing in John 6 and John 12 is exactly the same kind of action—effectual divine drawing—the Calvinist interpretation remains intact and the non-Calvinist is left with universalism or contradiction. If ἕλκω (helkō) always denotes an effective drawing that results in a change of position, as even some non-Calvinists acknowledge,² then the use of πάντας (“all”) in John 12:32 must be interpreted carefully. If “all” means “every individual without exception,” then the drawing must lead to universal salvation. But if we take “all” to mean “all kinds of people” (as the surrounding Gentile context of John 12:20–21 suggests), then we retain both the effectuality of divine drawing and avoid universalism.

Chris Date articulates the dilemma clearly:

“Jesus does not say, ‘I will try to draw all people to myself.’ He says, ‘I will draw.’ And if helkō means to effect a change in position—which it does when used transitively with a direct object—then either Christ effectually draws every person (and universalism is true), or ‘all’ refers to all kinds of people, not every individual.”³

He further points out that πάντας in John 12:32 lacks an explicit noun like ἄνθρωπος (“people”), and that the word “world” (kosmos) is not even used in the verse itself, but rather in the previous verse to denote judgment, not redemption (John 12:31). Any claim that “world” in verse 31 somehow forces a universal reading of “all” in verse 32 is textually and contextually unsound.

Lexical evidence also supports this reading. Major lexicons like BDAG and Louw & Nida distinguish between pas meaning “every kind” and “every individual,” and examples abound where “all” means all types (e.g., Rom 7:8; Matt 4:23), not all without exception. Date notes that nearly every major translation renders pas as “all kinds” in Romans 7:8, confirming the idiomatic range of the term.

In short, the Calvinist can affirm that the drawing in John 6 and John 12 is the same kind of action, and still maintain theological coherence. If drawing is effectual, then John 12 must be limited in scope—“all kinds,” not “all individuals.” If drawing is not effectual, then John 6’s promise of resurrection for all who are drawn collapses. Either way, the Provisionist loses.

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¹ Leighton Flowers vs. James White, 46:15ff.
² Flowers himself says, “I agree… [they are] very different,” yet still acknowledges effectual drawing in John 6.
³ Chris Date, response to Leighton Flowers, argument from Theapologetics YouTube channel (timestamp references available upon request).

Conclusion

Leighton Flowers’s appeal to helkō as a resistible invitation collapses under the weight of lexical, grammatical, and contextual analysis. The consistent pattern across biblical and extrabiblical literature is this: helkō denotes an effectual drawing. Thus, in John 6:44, Jesus is not describing the possibility of salvation if one responds rightly to teaching; He is declaring the certainty of salvation for those whom the Father draws. This affirms the Reformed doctrine of effectual grace and showcases the unified work of the Triune God in redemption.

📖 Series: Responding to Leighton Flowers on John 6

1. Insights from Jimmy Stephens: A Critical Examination of the White vs. Flowers Debate on John 6
   An analysis of key theological moments in the Flowers vs. White debate, featuring commentary by Jimmy Stephens.
2. Why the Father Never Fails: A Rebuttal to Leighton Flowers on John 6
   A detailed exegetical response defending effectual drawing and divine sovereignty in John 6:44–45.