Is There Such a Thing as Luck? A Molinist Solution

Christians sometimes say, “There’s no such thing as luck.”

I understand what they mean. After all, God is sovereign. God is provident. Nothing catches God by surprise. Nothing occurs outside the scope of his knowledge or providential plan.

But there’s a problem.

Sometimes we know when we get lucky.

Athletes know this especially well. I certainly do.

Consider a possible world (a long, long ways away from the actual world).

In this possible world, I’m back on my high school basketball team, but in this possible world 6'6" superstar Matt Samuelson (who is my brother-in-law in the actual world) unexpectedly freely chooses to transfer from Loomis High to Holdrege High School and leads us to the 1991 Nebraska State Championship game.

My Holdrege Dusters are down by two points with seven seconds remaining. Coach Rose takes a time out and calls me off the bench. He draws up and runs a play specifically designed to get me open. I sprint along the baseline, run off two screens, and find myself standing wide open behind the three-point line.

Matt Mueller—the state’s most feared point guard in this possible world—passes me a perfect chest pass and hits me right in the numbers.

It’s exactly the shot I want. In fact, I’ve already swished multiple three-pointers that night in warm ups.

I set my feet, aim for the front of the rim as I always do, and—with beautiful shooting form—let it fly just before the clock hits zero.

The buzzer sounds.

The ball sails through the air in what seems like slow motion . . .

And then . . .

I miss horribly!

Instead of swishing through the net, the ball smashes off the backboard. It ricochets high off the rim, bounces on the rim again . . . and again . . . and again. Then, seemingly stuck on the iron, the ball slowly rolls around the rim before finally dropping through the net.

The Holdrege Dusters win the 1991 Nebraska State Championship!

The crowd goes wild. My teammates tackle me. I’m a hero.

And I know something else (along with everyone else):

I got lucky.

And things only get better for me from there.

That shot gets noticed by ESPN and played on SportsCenter multiple times. I receive a basketball scholarship to the University of Nebraska.

Four years later, the Huskers find themselves playing for the National Championship.

With the game tied and the clock winding down, the ball finds its way into my hands one more time.

This time there’s no backboard. No lucky bounce.

I swish the three-pointer at the buzzer.

The Nebraska Cornhuskers are National Champions!

That shot launches me into the NBA, where I eventually sign a lucrative contract with Nike for the Air Strattosphere shoe.

Tim Stratton, NBA basketball player.

Hey, I told you this possible world was a long, long ways away from the actual world. 😂

And I'm not the only one whose life changes because of that championship game. Matt Sam goes off for 52 points and 17 rebounds, catches the attention of Coach K, and winds up playing for Duke University. Eventually, he makes it to the NBA too.

Apparently, the 1991 Holdrege Dusters were loaded.

This amazing journey would not have happened if it weren’t for that one lucky shot that went in off the backboard. But I never try to make three-pointers off the backboard! That’s not what I intended to do. I screwed up the shot, and the ball went in anyway.

Every basketball player knows what this is like.

But now, amidst the cheering and chaos, a pastor in the crowd at Devaney Sports Center objects:

“Tim, there’s no such thing as luck. God is sovereign!”

Well, hold on.

I believe God is sovereign too, but why can’t both be true?

What Do We Mean by “Luck”?

We need to distinguish luck from some mysterious entity called Luck.

I’m not suggesting that some personal being named “Lady Luck” exists or that Luck is some invisible causal force competing with God for control of the universe.

The claim is much more modest.

An outcome can properly be called lucky when a desirable result occurs through circumstances significantly beyond the relevant agent’s intention, skill, or control.

That describes my last-second shot perfectly.

I intended to make the basket. I exercised genuine skill in taking the shot. But I did not intend to make it by bouncing the ball off the backboard, bouncing high off the rim, and bouncing several times around the rim. The particular sequence resulting in my success was beyond my relevant control.

I got the result I wanted despite failing to execute what I intended.

That’s luck.

But doesn’t divine providence eliminate this possibility?

Not if Molinism is true.

Predestination Is Not Determination

This is where an important distinction I develop in Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism becomes relevant.

I argue that Christians ought not conflate divine predestination with divine determinism.

In the book, I offer the following expanded argument:

1. If divine determinism is true, then, if God wants all people to go to heaven, then all people go to heaven.

2. Not all people go to heaven.

3. Therefore, if God wants all people to go to heaven, then divine determinism is false.

4. If God is all-loving, then God wants all people to go to heaven.

5. God is all-loving.

6. Therefore, God wants all people to go to heaven.

7. Therefore, divine determinism is false (deductive).

8. God is completely sovereign and predestines all things.

9. Therefore, divine predestination and divine determinism are not to be conflated (deductive).

10. The best explanation of the data is Molinism (abductive).

The important point for our purposes is found in steps (8) and (9).

God can predestine without determining.

How?

Molinism provides the answer.

Sure, God can predestine something through his causal power alone (which leads to severe theological problems). However, God can also predestine by means of his omniscience combined with his sovereign freedom to actualize one particular feasible world rather than another (which avoids these severe theological problems).

And that distinction is going to explain my lucky three-pointer.

God Predestined My Lucky Shot

Let’s add something to our thought experiment.

Suppose both basketball teams contain Christians who sincerely love Jesus. Both teams have players praying for victory. God loves the players on both teams.

Moreover, suppose God simply doesn’t care which team wins the basketball game. What God desires is that these young men compete with excellence, display good sportsmanship, develop character, and glorify him through competition (Col. 3:23).

Thus, God does not miraculously intervene when my shot leaves my hand. No angel nudges the basketball. God doesn’t exercise supernatural power upon the ball. He doesn’t causally necessitate its bizarre series of bounces.

I simply get lucky.

But God possesses middle knowledge.

Before God creates anything, he knows exactly what would happen in every relevant set of circumstances He could create, including what every libertarian-free creature would freely do.

Accordingly, God knows that if he actualizes feasible world W73, I would eventually find myself standing behind that three-point line. He knows exactly how I would shoot. He knows the ball would hit the backboard. He knows every subsequent bounce. And he knows that it would eventually fall through the hoop.

Now suppose God chooses to actualize W73.

If so, the shot will go through the hoop. The game-winning shot is predestined.

But it is not determined.

Because God is omniscient, he possesses middle knowledge. Thus, if God knowingly actualizes the world in which this legitimately lucky shot occurs, he does so without causally necessitating the shot’s success.

And here’s where things become even more interesting.

The Lucky Shot Comes Along for the Ride

Why would God choose to actualize this particular world?

This might be hard for sports fans to fathom, but suppose God has infinitely more important reasons than basketball.

Suppose W73 were the best feasible freedom-permitting world available to God—the world in which evil is ultimately defeated and the greatest feasible number of people are saved. Not only that, but every single person who is not transworld damned across other possible/feasible worlds happen to be saved in W73 alone (no other possible/feasible world contains this good). If so, that’s why God would choose W73—not because Tim Stratton makes a three-pointer in a high school basketball game. My shot would be utterly irrelevant to God’s reason for choosing W73. It would simply (and luckily for me and Duster Nation) come along for the ride.

That would mean God knew my team would win. If God knowingly actualized the world in which we knew we would win because of a lucky shot, then, in that sense, God would have predestined our victory and another Duster championship.

But on this scenario, God would not have actualized this world because He wanted the Holdrege Dusters to win. Nor would he have wanted the other team to win. That distinction matters. Don't miss it.

God’s knowledge that an event would or will occur does not imply that God causally necessitates the event.

God’s predestination of an event does not imply divine determination of that event. Those are two different philosophical concepts that ought not be confused or conflated.

And God’s knowingly actualizing a world containing an event does not imply that the event itself constitutes God’s reason for actualizing that world.

So consider this sentence:

If God actualized W73, my game-winning shot would be lucky, predestined, and NOT divinely determined.

There is no contradiction.

But now let’s follow the consequences of that lucky shot.

Remember: in W73, that basket ultimately launches my basketball career. I receive a scholarship to Nebraska and eventually make it to the NBA.

But there’s a downside to all this basketball glory . . . FreeThinking Ministries never exists.

It gets much worse. I never meet Tia in W73. Ethan is not my son in W73.

In W73, Matt Sam's life takes a radically different path too. After scoring 52 points and grabbing 17 rebounds in the state championship game, he eventually plays at Duke and then makes it to the NBA.

Which means he never marries my sister.

And that means my niece Jenna and my nephew Brycen never exist.

Think about that for a moment.

In the actual world, Brycen is now a 6'4" senior playing basketball for Holdrege High School. He's a better shooter than I ever was in any possible world.

And true story in the actual world: I had the privilege of baptizing Brycen yesterday!

But there is no Brycen in W73. There is no Jenna either.

Suddenly my “lucky” shot doesn't look quite so lucky from the standpoint of eternity.

The ministry trips never happen. The articles aren’t written. The books aren’t published. The conversations and relationships resulting from the ministry never occur. And suppose that, as a consequence, significantly fewer people are ultimately saved in W73 than in another feasible world available to God.

God knew all of this before creating anything. He didn't have to create anything and He could have created otherwise.

Moreover, the consequences of God creating W73 would extend far beyond my own life. If making that shot sent my life down a radically different path—not to mention the lives of Matt Sam and everyone else affected by that championship—God knew the entire counterfactual history that would follow.

God knew that W73 would not result in the salvation of every person who is not transworld damned and far less people are saved. That means far more people are in Hell.

I see a basketball luckily fall through a hoop. God knows the entire history of W73.

Of course, there’s a problem: W73 obviously isn’t the actual world!

I did not hit that shot. The Dusters did not win that hypothetical championship in 1991 (Wahoo won the State Championship). I did not receive a basketball scholarship to Nebraska, and—tragically for NBA fans everywhere—I never made it to the league.

Oh, what could have been.

Perhaps this is precisely why W73 never became the actual world—not because God had anything against the Holdrege Dusters winning a state championship that year, and certainly not because he had anything against me playing in the NBA, but because the God who is perfect in power, knowledge, and love had overwhelmingly better reasons to actualize a different feasible world.

Apparently, in the actual world, God knew the world needed a philosopher and theologian more than it needed another shooting guard.

I’m not sure all Nebraska basketball fans would agree. (Go Big Red!)

But What About Divine Intervention and Prayer?

None of this implies that God cannot intervene in a basketball game.

God is omnipotent. If God wants that ball to go through the hoop, he certainly has the power to make it happen. Nor does my argument imply that Christians should never pray for God to intervene—even in something as relatively insignificant as a sporting event.

I certainly have!

The point is simply that God need not intervene in every event that occurs within the world he predestines.

Moreover, our prayers might really make a difference.

Suppose there are multiple feasible worlds available to God that accomplish equally optimal freedom-permitting endgames. In some of them, God answers my prayer and intervenes; in others, he does not.

If either course is compatible with God’s ultimate purposes and endgame, then there can be genuine providential “play” regarding which events God brings about within the world he chooses to actualize.

Of course, our prayers never surprise an omniscient God.

On Molinism, God knew prior to creation exactly what we would freely pray in any circumstances in which he might place us. Indeed, those prayers can themselves be among the reasons God chooses to actualize one feasible world rather than another.

So, as I explain in my "Mere Molinism" book, if you are wondering if God created a world in which you freely choose to pray something in particular, choose to pray and find out.

On the other hand, if answering a particular prayer would prevent the best feasible freedom-permitting endgame God intends to achieve, then answering that prayer would be contrary to God’s ultimate will.

Although He loves you more than you can imagine, God answers those prayers with a resounding NO.

Two Kinds of Luck

In fact, the thought experiment contains at least two senses in which we might properly describe what happened as “lucky.”

First, the shot itself was lucky.

I intended to make the basket but failed to execute the shot as intended. Factors beyond my relevant control nevertheless resulted in precisely the outcome I desired.

Second, suppose God had actualized W73. In that case, Seniors Ryan Quincy, Terry Burton, Dan Noble, Yancy Broeker, Ryan Munn, Matt Mueller, Brad Thompson, Quentin Stradal, Jeremy Jones, Jon Penny, Mike Jacobsen, the star of the team, Matt Samuelson, and the rest of the Dusters would have been lucky to inhabit this particular possible world that God chose to make actual.

Out of all the possible worlds God could contemplate—and all the feasible freedom-permitting worlds available for God to actualize—suppose God had actualized one containing our victory.

He would not have chosen this world because of our victory.

We would simply have found ourselves playing basketball in a feasible freedom-permitting world God had sufficient reasons to actualize for vastly more important purposes.

In that perfectly legitimate sense, we would have gotten lucky!

And we would have won the gold.

None of this means that anything escaped God’s providence.

Quite the opposite.

Molinism Explains Luck

This is what I find so satisfying about Molinism.

Christians have good theological, biblical, and philosophical reasons for affirming God’s sovereignty and providence. Yet ordinary human experience seems to provide equally good reasons for recognizing something we appropriately call luck.

We know the feeling via direct acquaintance.

"That ball had no business going through the hoop. What a lucky shot!"

Our Christian instincts sometimes cause us to respond:

“Well, technically, there’s no such thing as luck.”

But perhaps we don’t need to say that.

Perhaps our ordinary experience along with our intuitions are tracking something real.

Molinism allows us to affirm simultaneously that:

• an event can be genuinely lucky relative to a creature,

• the event can occur without being divinely determined,

• God can know infallibly that the event would occur,

• God can knowingly choose to actualize the world containing it,

• and therefore God can predestine the event while remaining completely sovereign and provident over the world in which it occurs.

  
  

There is no competition between luck and divine sovereignty once the concepts are properly distinguished.

Predestination does not entail determination. And providence does not entail that God must specifically cause—or specifically desire for its own sake—every event contained within the world he sovereignly chooses to actualize (this also explains suffering and solves the problems of evil).

Once again, Molinism gives us the conceptual resources to affirm truths that initially appear to be in tension. It solves the problem of evil. It solves the problem of divine hiddenness. It reconciles meticulous divine providence with genuine libertarian freedom.

And apparently, Molinism can even explain why a Christian basketball player can hit the ugliest game-winning three-pointer of his life, get mobbed by his teammates, look up toward heaven and say:

“Thank you, God!

Man, I got lucky.”

Stay reasonable (Isaiah 1:18) . . . and good luck! (Ecclesiastes 9:11; Proverbs 16:33)

Dr. Timothy "Air" Stratton