Theology

As I sat down to write a review of Brandan Robertson’s book Queer and Christian (see review here: Queer and Christian Review ) I quickly came to the realization that I would need to choose between reviewing the book and refuting the arguments. While I addressed some of the arguments in the review I left much on the cutting room floor. However, given that Robertson declares that the arguments he offers in this book are, “…the best arguments to disarm the anti-queer interpreta

“Hey, stop judging me! You can’t judge me and my beliefs!” How many times have we heard something like this? The implication of such exclamations are clear: someone’s personal beliefs about religion or morality are off limits—they cannot be discerned to be right or wrong. Beliefs are subjective and thus true for some and not others. Such a sentiment fences off one’s beliefs from being analyzed and weighed for validity. But is it true that we should not judge others' beliefs?

Calvinists often cite Isaiah 10 as evidence that God deterministically caused the Assyrian invasion of Israel. They claim that because God sent Assyria as a tool of judgment, and later punished them, this supports the idea that God ordains all events—including human sin—while remaining just in holding people accountable for actions they could not have avoided. Isaiah 10:5-6 Woe to the Assyrian, the rod of my anger, in whose hand is the club of my wrath! I send him against a g

In the previous article, we looked in depth at the actual structure of Colossians 1:15-20. But what is the passage actually about? What is Paul writing to the Colossian believers? At its core, we find the message of vv. 15-20 is about Christ and his relationship to creation. As previously mentioned, each stanza—though in relation to one another—has a different theme. The first stanza is about Christ and his relationship with the original creation. The second stanza focuses on

The Apostle Paul is known for the power and elegance of his writing. Of the authors in the New Testament, none compare to his rhetoric. Though his writings take the form of letters, he manages to fill them with instruction, warnings, loving encouragement, and in some instances passages that are almost poetry. The two greatest examples of possible poetry are Philippians 2:6-11 and Colossians 1:15-20. The latter, Colossians 1:15-20 is the focus of our study. Like Philippians 2:

Over the past several weeks I’ve written a number of articles explaining why I believe Open Theism struggles to make sense of the biblical data. That was one of the main reasons I ultimately rejected Open Theism after leaving Calvinism back in 2010. At the time, I gave Open Theism a serious look. I studied Greg Boyd’s work and appreciated many of his insights. I liked his pastoral tone and his passion to defend God’s goodness. In fact, for quite a while I kept Open Theism “o

One of the clearest tests of divine authority in scripture is God’s ability to declare the future with precision and certainty. Isaiah 41:21–23 is not vague: “Declare to us the things to come. Tell us what the future holds, so we may know you are gods.” This is not a demand for moral wisdom or historical insight. It is a demand for foreknowledge. And not just general foreknowledge—it is a test of predictive specificity: “Tell us what is going to happen so that we may know you

Every now and then, a golden nugget glints from an unexpected corner of Scripture—one that speaks directly to today’s theological debates. I was recently informed of one such gem that is buried in the Greek Septuagint (LXX) version of Psalm 139:16 (numbered as Psalm 138:16 in the LXX): “Thine eyes saw my unwrought substance, and all men shall be written in thy book; they shall be formed by day, though there should for a time be no one among them. ” —Psalm 138:16, LXX (Bren

Why Knowing Isn’t Necessitating, and Freedom Still Stands It seems obvious to me that if God creates a world in which nothing—neither the laws of nature nor any supernatural force— causally determines my mental or physical actions, then I possess genuine, libertarian freedom. Not only am I the source of my actions, but I can truly do otherwise—even if (in fact) I won’t. Let’s make it concrete. Imagine I choose to wear a red shirt today. Suppose it’s a fact that I won’t wear

Open Theists often argue that the future is not fully knowable because it consists of undetermined possibilities. They say God is omniscient—but only of what can be known. Since free choices haven’t happened yet, and aren’t “fixed,” they claim those choices have no truth-values until they occur. But this view runs headfirst into the very opening of Jeremiah. “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to

In my last post, I argued that future-tensed propositions involving libertarian agents can have truth-values. That knocked over the first domino in a logical sequence refuting the assertions of many in the Dynamic Omniscience and Open Theism (DO/OT) camp. Now it’s time for domino number two: the claim that counterfactuals of creaturely freedom (CCFs) also have truth-values . This is where things heat up. Dr. Alan Rhoda, a leading Open Theist philosopher, claims that “there i

As a Mere Molinist, I've always considered Open Theists to be my theological allies in the battle against exhaustive divine determinism (EDD). Of course, I knew why I wasn't an Open Theist and knew the problems with the view, but I had no desire to fight my friends in public. This is the case because I sincerely believe that EDD is far more dangerous than Open Theism. But then my Open Theist friends, such as Warren McGrew and Pat Patel, started coming after Molinism in genera

A friend of mine recently challenged the idea that God has exhaustive foreknowledge, arguing that the plain reading of Scripture favors Open Theism—that is, the view that God doesn’t (and can’t) know what libertarianly free creatures will do in the future. He suggested that when Isaiah says God declares the end from the beginning, it doesn’t really mean what it sounds like. Instead, God is just predicting outcomes on a short enough timeline that observers can see He’s behind

Recently, a Calvinist philosopher attempted something rather surprising: he came to the defense of Open Theism after I published several articles critiquing the view . This was unexpected, given his usual opposition to any view that affirms libertarian freedom. But in this case, it seems his disdain for Molinism made Open Theism look like the lesser evil. The context was a discussion of Jesus’ famous prophecy about Peter : “Truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “this very night

One of the most compelling episodes in the Gospels is Jesus’ famous prediction of Peter’s denial: “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow today until you have denied three times that you know me.” (Luke 22:34) It’s the kind of moment that punches you in the gut—Jesus, calmly foretelling the failure of His closest friend. The scene is striking—not only because of the personal betrayal, but because of the startling precision and quiet confidence with which Jesus delivers

Open Theists often argue that God does not know future free decisions—not due to any lack of power or intelligence, but because, on their view, there is simply nothing there to be known. On this model (especially in its “Dynamic Omniscience” form), God knows all truths—but future-tensed propositions about libertarianly free choices are simply not true yet. They don't exist. As a result, God doesn’t have beliefs about them and can’t be wrong. But here’s the dilemma: Scripture

Can God really know the future, or does He just make really good predictions? Some Open Theists claim God “knows” the future—not because He sees it as it truly is, but because He exhaustively understands all possibilities, necessities, and creaturely tendencies. That might sound impressive, but is it really knowledge—or is it just a glorified divine guess? That question was insightfully raised by Taylor, a commenter on my recent blog. He wrote: "When I think of God ‘knowing’

Introduction: The Future in Question Can God know the future? Not just what could or might happen—or even what’s likely to happen—but what will happen? This question cuts to the heart of theology and metaphysics. It impacts how we think about God’s sovereignty, omniscience, providence, and trustworthiness. It’s also a central dividing line between Calvinism, Molinism, and Open Theism. In a recent article critiquing certain forms of Open Theism , I argued that a God who doesn

Many are drawn to Open Theism because they believe it helps with the problem of evil. After all, if God doesn’t know what free creatures will do in the future, then He cannot be blamed for their choices—right? If God didn’t foresee the horrors that awaited, then perhaps He’s off the moral hook. At first glance, this seems like a promising solution. It paints a picture of a well-meaning deity doing His best in a dangerous world filled with free creatures. But upon closer exami

Philippians 2:6-11 is a well-known hymn in the New Testament, clearly affirming Christ’s divine nature. The hymn tells the story of the descent of Christ from heaven to earth, followed by his death, resurrection, and exaltation back into the heavens. What is Paul’s purpose behind it? When read on its own, one may think it is to argue for Christ’s divinity and his dual nature. Reading the passage apart from its literary context, however, misses Paul's broader point. From the s