That figment of the necessity of a consequence, as somehow differing from the necessity of a consequent, has been confuted already (Part i. Sect, xi.). Let Diatribe invent and re-invent, cavil and re-cavil, as much as she pleases. If God foreknew that Judas would be a traitor, Judas necessarily became a traitor. Nor was it in the power of Judas (or any creature) to do otherwise, or to change his will, though he did what he did by an act of willing, and not by compulsion. But to will that act, was the operation of a substance which God put into motion by His own omnipotence, as he also does everything else. For it stands as an invincible and self-evident proposition, that God neither lies, nor is mistaken. The words under our consideration are not obscure or doubtful words, although all the learned of all ages may have been so blind as to understand and interpret them otherwise. Prevaricate as much as you may, your own conscience, and that of all men, is compelled to acknowledge that if God is not mistaken in what he foreknows, then the very thing foreknown must necessarily take place. Otherwise, who could trust His promises, who would fear His threatenings, if what he promises or threatens does not necessarily follow? Or, how can He promise or threaten, if his foreknowledge deceives him, or He can be thwarted by our mutability? This excessive light of undoubted truth manifestly shuts every mouth, puts an end to all questions, and decrees a victory in spite of all evasive subtleties. We know very well that the foreknowledge of man is beguiled. We know that an eclipse does not happen because it is foreknown, but it is foreknown because it is going to happen. But what have we to do with this sort of foreknowledge? We are arguing about the foreknowledge of God.
SECT. 19. Diatribe’s concessions and retractions exposed.
Deny the necessity of the thing foreknown being effected, and you take away the faith and fear of God; you throw down all of God’s promises and threatenings; indeed, you deny the very being of God. But even Diatribe herself, after a long struggle in which she has tried all her arts, is at length compelled by the force of truth to make confession of our sentiment. She says:
‘The question about the will and purpose of Diatribe’s God is a more difficult one. For God wills the same things which he foreknows. And this is what Paul subjoins: “Who resists his will, if he pities whom he will, and hardens whom he will?” Rom 9.18-19 For if he were a king, he would do what he liked, so that no one would be able to resist him; he would be said to do what he would. Thus the will of God, being the principal cause of all events, seems to impose a necessity upon our will.’
This is what she says. And I thank God that Diatribe has at last recovered her senses. What has become of Free will now? But this eel again slips out of our hands by saying in a moment,
‘But Paul does not resolve this question; on the contrary, he chides the inquirer; indeed, but O man, who are you that replies against God?’ Rom 9.20
O exquisite evasion! Is this what you call handling the word of God? — to deliver a mere ipse dixit 525 in this manner, by your own authority, out of your own head, without producing testimonies of Scripture, without working miracles? — or rather, to thus corrupt some of the clearest words that God ever spoke? ‘Paul does not resolve this question,’ she says. What is he doing then? ‘He chides the inquirer,’ she says. Is this chiding not the most complete resolution of the question? What was in fact asked in this question concerning the will of God? Was it not asked whether he puts a necessity upon our will? Paul answers, “Thus (that is, because God does so) he has mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he wills, he hardens. It is not of him that wills, nor of him that runs, but of God who shows mercy.” 526
Not content with having resolved the question, Paul moreover introduces those who, in opposition to this answer, murmur for Freewill — who prate that there is no such thing as merit, nor are we condemned by any fault of our own, and the like — for the very purpose of putting a stop to their indignation and murmurs.
Paul says, “You say to me, then, why does he still find fault? For who resists his will?” Do you notice the personification? 527 Upon hearing that the will of God imposes a necessity on us, they blasphemously murmur and say, Why does he still find fault? That is, why does God so press, so drive, so demand, so complain? Why does He accuse? Why does He condemn? — as if we men could do what he demands, if we pleased. God has no just cause for this complaint. Let him rather accuse his own will — let him prefer his complaint there — let him press and drive there. For who resists his will? Who can obtain mercy when God does not choose that they should receive it? Who can melt himself, if it is God’s will to harden him? It does not lie with us to change God’s will, much less to resist it. His will chooses that we should be hardened; and by that will we are compelled to be hardened — whether we would have it or not.
If Paul had not resolved this question, or had not unequivocally determined that a necessity is imposed on us by the divine prescience, then what need was there to introduce persons who murmur and allege that it is impossible to resist His will? For who would murmur or be indignant, if he did not think that this necessity had been determined? The words in which Paul speaks of resisting the will of God are not obscure. Is it doubtful what he means by ‘resisting,’ or by ‘will;’ or of whom he speaks when he speaks of the will of God? Let countless thousands of the most approved doctors be blind here; and let them pretend that Scripture is not clear; and let them be afraid of a difficult question. We have some of the clearest words of this import: “He pities whom he will; whom he wills, he hardens.” Also, “You say to me, therefore, why does he find fault? Who resists his will?”
Nor is it a difficult question; indeed, nothing can be plainer to common sense than that this consequence is certain, solid, and true: ‘If God foreknows an event, it necessarily comes to pass.’ This necessarily follows once it is presupposed, upon the testimony of Scripture, that God neither errs nor is deceived. 528 I confess that the question is a difficult one — indeed, one which is impossible to resolve — if in the same instant you determine to maintain both God’s foreknowledge, and man’s liberty. For what is more difficult, or rather more impossible, than to contend that contradictions and contraries are not at variance with each other; or that a number is at the same time ten and nine? There is no difficulty in the question we are handling. Rather, the difficulty is gone after and brought in, just as ambiguity and obscurity are gone after and introduced into the Scriptures, by violence. 529
So then, he stops the mouths of those wicked ones who have been offended by those most plain words. And why are they offended? Because they perceive that the divine will is fulfilled by our necessity; and because they perceive it has been unequivocally determined that there is nothing of liberty or of Free will left to them — but all things are dependent on the will of God alone. He stops their mouths, I say, but it is by bidding them to be still, and to reverence the Majesty of the divine power and will, 530 over which we have no right of control. Meanwhile, it has full power over us, to do what seems good to it. It is not that any injury is done to us by its operations, since it owes us nothing. It has received nothing from us, and it has promised nothing to us, beyond what it chose and was pleased to do.
SECT. 20. Where true reverence for the Scriptures lies.
Here then is the place, here is the time, for adoring not the fictitious inhabitants of those Corycian caves, but the real Majesty of God in his fearful wonders, and in His incomprehensible judgments — and for saying “Your will be done, in heaven, so on earth.” On the other hand, we are never more irreverent and rash than when we attempt and accuse these very mysteries and judgments, which are unsearchable. Meanwhile, we imagine that we are exercising an incredible degree of reverence in searching the holy Scriptures. Those Scriptures, which God has commanded us to search, we do not search in one direction, but in another — a direction in which he has forbidden us to search them. Thus, we do nothing but search them with a perpetual temerity, if not blasphemy.
Is it not such a search, when we rashly endeavour to make
