You Are Able”: A Written Exchange on 1 Corinthians 10:13 and the Nature of Human Freedom with Colton Carlson
- Dr. Tim Stratton

- Aug 20
- 35 min read
Updated: Oct 29

Introduction
This dialogue brings together Colton Carlson and Dr. Tim Stratton in an extended written exchange about the meaning of Paul’s assurance in 1 Corinthians 10:13. At issue is whether the apostle’s statement—“you are able”—supports a libertarian understanding of human freedom (C-Ability) or whether it can be explained within a compatibilist framework (W-Ability).
Across the discussion, Carlson presses Stratton to demonstrate why libertarian freedom is the stronger reading, while Stratton argues that only categorical ability makes sense of Paul’s pastoral promise. Along the way, the conversation ranges over Greek grammar, dispositional analyses of ability, the logic of sourcehood, and broader questions of method in both philosophy and theology.
What follows is not a quick debate of sound bites but a detailed written dialogue. The hope is that, even amid disagreement, readers will find clarity on the key issues and encouragement to wrestle deeply with the biblical text.
This is the fifth and final installment in the written debate between Stratton (words in BLACK) and Carlson (words in BLUE). To see the others, click here: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4. Grab some popcorn—or your Greek lexicon—and enjoy the show!
The Debate
Colton Carlson (CC): //Finally, here I see an independent and contrastive reason for why we should prefer the C-Ability over other competing views, such as W-Ability. You say that Paul grounds hope in the word Greek word “*dunasthe*—“you are able.” Present tense. Actual world. That’s categorical assurance.” Now you think this entails C-Ability:
C-Ability: S possesses the power (or ability) to perform otherwise than action A in any non-derivative situation x at time t such that S could have freely chosen to either A or not A in x at t iff there exists a possible world W*, holding fixed the laws of nature and the past in the actual world W, where W* is identical to W up until t in which S does otherwise than A at t.
The word means, roughly, to be able to, or to have power. It is used to convey the thought that something is capable or possible, in relation to authority. So far, I see nothing that entails C-Ability, for W-Ability holds to ability and “power”. Now, on present tense, you think this somehow conveys actual world assurance. How?//
TIM
: The Greek word
dunasthe
carries the straightforward sense of being “able,” having power or capacity. But notice Paul’s use of the present tense: “You are able.” He grounds assurance in the believer’s live, actual-world capacity, not in hypothetical scenarios where conditions align differently.
This is categorical assurance—actual power in the actual moment in the actual world.
Now, what does that mean? If a believer is “able” in Paul’s sense, then at the moment of temptation it's genuinely within their power either to resist and escape or to give in and sin. Otherwise, Paul’s words become deceptive comfort:
“You are able” would amount to “You couldn’t have done otherwise in the actual world, but somewhere in modal space you had resources.”
That is not pastoral assurance—it’s absurdity.
W-Ability boils down to: “You could do otherwise if something were different.” But Paul doesn’t say, “You would be able if circumstances were otherwise.” He says, “You are able”—because God is faithful and provides the way of escape. That is not thin compatibility but categorical assurance.
Thus, when Paul promises that believers “are able,” he affirms their real power to do otherwise in the actual world, in the actual moment of temptation. That is to say, when you are tempted to sin, you do not have to sin because you could have chosen otherwise. Thus, it follows that when you do sin, Colton, you could have done otherwise. That is C-Ability. That is libertarian freedom. Anything less drains Paul’s words of their hope.
CC: In English, as well as Greek, present tense means an on-going, or continued action. Where is the C-Ability in that such that “S possesses the power (or ability) to perform otherwise than action A in any non-derivative situation x at time t such that S could have freely chosen to either A or not A in x at t iff there exists a possible world W*, holding fixed the laws of nature and the past in the actual world W, where W* is identical to W up until t in which S does otherwise than A at t”? Present tense conveys habitual actions such as I play guitar everyday; actions from the past going into the future. Now, importantly, unlike English simple present, Greek present tense portrays moments of time that are not necessarily restricted to the “just now”. But it seems clear you want to mean it like that when you say “at t”. All of this is relatively elementary. //
TIM
: Although I make no claim to be an expert in Greek, I am careful to surround myself with people who are. My colleague Josh Klein—a proud alum of Grace University, currently pursuing his PhD—has taken more graduate-level Greek than most pastors will ever see. I asked him to weigh in, and here’s what he said:
“Colton is making an understandable error in understanding the Greek here and misapplying it to his own argument. However, even IF he is right then I believe it strengthens Dr. Stratton’s case, not Colton’s on C-Ability vs W-Ability. First, let me explain where Colton goes wrong. Colton makes this claim,
“In English, as well as Greek, present tense means an on-going, or continued action… present tense portrays moments of time that are not necessarily restricted to the ‘just now.’”
But this is only partially correct. The present tense is usually an imperfect aspect but this particular word “δύνασθε” is in the
Present
Middle Indicative
. Why is this important? Well, in the indicative mood the meaning is a reference to the present time. In other words, it is a reference to what is actually the case
right now
. Colton is partially correct, but he overplays his hand by downplaying the default force of the indicative present in this verse.
“When an author or speaker uses an indicative verb, he portrays the verb’s action as a reality.” – Dan Wallace (
Context indicates how a word ought to be understood and translated in every situation. In this case, the context is very clear and strongly favors a present assurance. When temptations come, God ensures you are able to endure. While Colton is correct that present tense does not automatically indicate “just now, categorical ability” he either fails to realize or does not understand the default force of the indicative mood. However, it is true that the word can bear a “gnomic” or timeless sense, but again, context is key in how we discern that. To what is the author referencing? In this case the Apostle Paul is referencing a pastoral counsel concerning sin in the real world this means that even in a gnomic sense this power is meant to be understood as real and active in reality. So it is unlikely, given the context, that the gnomic sense of “general habit” that Colton argues is a good translative or interpretative choice. Given both Bill Mounce’s and Dan Wallace’s work on the subject of the indicative Dr. Stratton’s interpretation is on stronger footing when accounting for context and the grammatical defaults of the indicative mood. Finally, even if I were to grant Colton’s argument it might even bolster Dr. Stratton’s view, not Colton’s. Even if there is some sort of gnomic sense to the term it would imply that every time a Christian is tempted, it remains true that they “are able.” And given the context it would then extend out to the ongoing reality of temptation. Whenever temptations occur, not just at time
t
but at every single moment a time
t
will occur that one is able, categorically, to respond to God’s provision of a way out. Paul isn’t restricting ability to a single moment, but he is affirming a timeless pastoral reality: whenever temptation occurs, the believer has the ability. That’s basically C-Ability universalized across all temptations. So, either way, the grammar and the context work against Colton’s attempt to weaken the text. Stratton’s reading aligns more closely with both the indicative’s default force and the pastoral setting of the passage. The burden is on Colton to show that Paul meant only a weaker, dispositional sense of ability, something the grammar and the context together make very difficult to sustain. Bottom line: What we learn from this is that our English translations are very good. Generally, they are able to communicate not only the word but the intent, in context, of how the word is used in the letter. While understanding the correct translation of δύνασθε may not prove C-Ability (though it does show that the ability is REALLY REAL, Colton may say that W-Ability is also “really real” but then the rest of the argument is to be considered) Colton’s view certainly isn’t justified and when all other factors are considered, the context of the book of 1 Corinthians in general, the pastoral tone of this particular part of the letter, and what we know about the translative history if Present Middle Indicatives it seems Dr. Stratton’s argument remains on solid ground.” – Josh Klein
TIM
: Thank you, Josh! Here’s the point: Paul’s intent in 1 Corinthians 10:13 is not abstract modal theorizing. He is assuring real believers facing real temptations in the real world that God’s faithfulness ensures they are genuinely able—here and now—to resist. This is not hypothetical power located in some alternate scenario, nor dispositional ability that collapses under determinism. It is live, categorical assurance: the believer
can
resist temptation, or they can sin.
Colton, if you are right, then Paul’s words become deceptive comfort: “You couldn’t have done otherwise, but take heart—there was some possible world where you might have.” That’s not pastoral assurance. That’s pastoral malpractice.
So whether we press the indicative for its default present force or (charitably) allow a gnomic sense, the upshot is the same: Paul grounds real hope in libertarian freedom. This is not W-Ability, which always pushes the power off into what “could have been” if the past or dispositions were different. This is C-Ability—the categorical ability and power that the regenerate spirit-filled Christ follower has to do otherwise in the actual moment of temptation.
CC: //So, while I think this is your best attempt at providing an independent and contrastive reason for why C-Ability must be entailed by the verse, I think it fails because nothing about dunasthe entails, specifically C-Ability such that present tense means an on-going, or continued action. Where is the C-Ability in that such that “S possesses the power (or ability) to perform otherwise than action A in any non-derivative situation x at time t such that S could have freely chosen to either A or not A in x at t iff there exists a possible world W*, holding fixed the laws of nature and the past in the actual world W, where W* is identical to W up until t in which S does otherwise than A at t”. In addition, the appeal to the present tense of dunasthe fails because present tense also does not entail present tense means an on-going, or continued action. Where is the C-Ability in that such that “S possesses the power (or ability) to perform otherwise than action A in any non-derivative situation x at time t such that S could have freely chosen to either A or not A in x at t iff there exists a possible world W*, holding fixed the laws of nature and the past in the actual world W, where W* is identical to W up until t in which S does otherwise than A at t”.
Your Tim Stratton version of the text is straight wildin'!//
TIM
: Well, I’ll let you take that up with Greek experts, but thus far, it seems that I am the one handling the text with care in this conversation. You can call my reading “wildin’” if you like, but dismissive rhetoric doesn’t change the fact that (i) the indicative present tense carries real-time force, (ii) the pastoral context of Paul’s words demands real assurance, not hypothetical comfort, and (iii) the lexical and grammatical evidence provided by recognized scholars (Mounce, Wallace, etc.) strengthens—not weakens—my interpretation.
I’ll say it again: if Paul’s words in 1 Cor. 10:13 don’t entail that the believer has the actual, categorical ability to resist temptation when it strikes, then Paul is offering false comfort. That would be unthinkable. A weaker “ability” (like your W-Ability) that never cashes out in real moments of choice is not pastoral hope because it’s not based in reality (a power one has to avoid sin in all moments of temptation in the actual world).
The bottom line is this: you can attempt to soften “dunasthe” into something less than categorical ability, but the grammar, context, and pastoral thrust all pull in the opposite direction. When Paul says, “you are able,” he means it. And if he means it, then the believer truly could do otherwise at the moment of temptation. That’s libertarian freedom, full stop.
CC: //You finally say “If your model were right, then Paul’s message becomes: “Every time you sin, you literally could not have done otherwise—but take comfort, you had the resources in other possible worlds.” That’s not encouragement. That’s despair.”
Straw-man. Not Vihvelin’s model; not my problem. Please, understand the dispositional analysis before critiquing it. Otherwise we are wasting our time. //
TIM:
I don’t think you’re the one understanding here, Colton. You keep insisting I’m misrepresenting Vihvelin, but let’s lay the cards on the table. Vihvelin’s dispositional account says:
“S has the ability to A iff S has the intrinsic properties (skills, know-how, etc.) and the opportunity (no decisive obstacles) such that if S were to choose to A, S would succeed in A.”
That’s her line. And here’s the problem: dispositional analyses still cash out as conditionalized. The “if” is always lurking in the background: if S were to try, if S were to choose differently, if circumstances aligned, then S would succeed. Or, if one’s bundle of dispositions would have been different, if random events would have happened differently, and so on. That is exactly the hollowness I’ve been pointing out.
Again, if S is not the
source
who actualizes to A or not-A, then something or someone else is. This something or someone else could be random meaningless events, the laws of nature, or a supernatural being (all "decisive obstacles" which prevent S from doing otherwise).
But, if these are not present, then there are no obstacles deterministically preventing S from Aing or not-Aing.
Thus, if there is nothing deterministically preventing S from Aing or not-Aing, then—S actualizes the Aing or not-Aing . . . and whatever S did, S had the power to do otherwise (since absolutely nothing deterministically prevented S from doing otherwise).
This simply is libertarian freedom. This is a categorical ability (C-ability) to do otherwise.
By contrast, Paul’s assurance in 1 Corinthians 10:13 is categorical and present: “You are able.”It is tethered to God’s faithfulness and to an actual way of escape. That’s not thin, counterfactual possibility—it’s a live power in the actual world, at the actual moment of temptation.
Here’s the crux: even if you adopt Vihvelin’s dispositionalism, it never secures genuine alternatives at t. It only repackages compatibilism in modal dress. On your reading, Paul’s comfort reduces to: “Every time you sin, you literally could not have done otherwise—but take comfort, you had dispositions that might have helped if other conditions had been different.” That’s absurd and certainly anything but true pastoral comfort.
So no, this isn’t a straw man. These are the entailments of the dispositional analysis. If I’m wrong, then show—within your model—how the believer has a live, categorical power at that moment either to sin or to take the way of escape, not merely that she would have succeeded if she had chosen or tried. Until then, my charge stands.
And that’s the decisive point: Paul’s words promise a freedom that is real, categorical, and grounded in God’s faithfulness. Your model, however dressed up, never escapes the conditional “if.” That is why it collapses under the weight of the text.
CC: //9. Closing the Circle. Here’s where we are *now*:
(i) is false.
(ii) is false.
(iii) question-begging (it’s your argument; where is the independent reason? Though the exegesis is close, but off contextually)//
TIM:
Hardly, Colton.
Let’s look at it one last time:
If Christians possess the opportunity at time t to exercise an ability to choose among a range of alternative options each compatible with their regenerated state, then Christians possess libertarian freedom.
At the moment of temptation (t), Christians possess the opportunity to exercise an ability to choose between either (i) giving into temptation or (ii) taking the way of escape God promises to provide.
Therefore, Christians possess libertarian freedom.
(i) is true by definition. If you concede that Christians possess an opportunity in the actual world to exercise an ability to either succumb to temptation or take the God-provided way of escape, then by definition that is a categorical power to do otherwise. Otherwise, “opportunity” becomes an empty shell word — like telling someone they have the “opportunity” to breathe underwater without gills. The concept loses all substance unless there is a live, available alternative within the agent’s power.
(ii) has been defended and stands strong. Paul explicitly says “God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”The text is clear: at the moment of temptation, believers are faced with two options, both live: (i) endure/escape, or (ii) fall into sin. The “way of escape” is not a hypothetical mirage in modal space — it is concretely present. Thus, both options are genuinely open and available to the believer at t.
(iii) is a deductive conclusion that follows logically from the premises. This is not question-begging; it’s valid reasoning. If you deny the conclusion, you must reject one of the premises — but as I just showed, neither can be denied without collapsing into contradiction or undermining Paul’s pastoral assurance.
And here’s the kicker: if your model reduces the “opportunity” to a mere conditional ("you would have avoided sin if other things were different"), then it guts Paul’s comfort. What believers need in temptation is not the reassurance that if only things had been different, they could have resisted. What they need — and what Paul promises — is the assurance that here and now, by God’s faithfulness, they can resist. That is categorical ability.
So no, Colton, the argument isn’t question-begging. It’s a valid deduction from biblical premises. And unless you can show that Paul’s words mean something weaker than they plainly say, libertarian freedom stands as the only model that preserves the force of 1 Cor 10:13.
CC: //Conclusion.
Tim, you said that I “don’t have leeway or sourcehood in any robust sense.”
Well, not in any incompatibilist sense, sure, but “robust”? Do you have a monopoly on what “robust” means? What does this mean? Does it mean “ultimate sourcehood”? You have to prove that, right? //
TIM
: Colton, I don’t claim a monopoly on the word
robust
. But let’s be clear about what’s at stake. When I say you don’t have leeway or sourcehood in any robust sense, I mean that—on your model—the agent never truly originates her actions as the source in a way that grounds moral or rational responsibility.
If every mental and physical action is either (a) determined by antecedent conditions outside the agent’s control, or (b) the product of random factors, then the agent herself is not the source but a passive conduit. That isn’t robust agency; it’s mechanisms happening to her, not from her.She becomes a victim of conditions or chance, with no ultimate control. This is the difference between being a pilot and a passenger.
By contrast, robust sourcehood means that at least some choices genuinely arise from the agent’s own power of origination. She doesn’t merely experience prior conditions happening to her; she contributes something irreducibly hers in bringing about A rather than not-A. This is precisely what libertarian agency and C-Ability secures, and precisely what your view cannot secure.
And this matters: Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 10:13 presuppose exactly this kind of freedom. When Paul says, “You are able,” he is assuring believers that in the actual moment of temptation, they—not fate, not random chance, not external determinants—possess the live, categorical power either to sin or to take the way of escape. On your reading, however, Paul’s assurance collapses into absurdity: “Every time you sin, you could not have done otherwise—but take comfort, if things were different than the actual world you could have.” That is not pastoral hope. This is not handling the Bible responsibly.
So no, I don’t have a monopoly on “robust.” But the text, the logic of responsibility, and the very nature of assurance demand that robust means ultimate sourcehood—libertarian freedom. Anything less collapses under the weight of both Scripture and reason.
CC: //Tim, you said, “If the regenerate Christian is not the ultimate and rational source of his actions and the actualizer of possible alternatives, then there is no leeway at all.”
There’s no C-Ability, sure. But no W-Ability? You can’t just say no W-Ability because C-Ability is true when you haven’t produced a viable independent and contrastive reason as to why C-Ability is preferred. //
TIM:
Again, let’s define what we mean.
W-Ability (Wide Ability, per Vihvelin): On this view, an agent is said to be “able” if two conditions are met:
The agent possesses the N-Ability — the intrinsic skills, know-how, dispositions, and psychological/physical competence to A.
No decisive obstacles (internal or external) prevent the agent from exercising that ability, such that if the agent were to choose or try to A, she would succeed in A.
Now, on paper, that sounds a lot like what I mean by C-Ability: if no obstacles block the exercise of the power, then the agent should have a live opportunity to actualize one of multiple alternatives. But here’s the problem: on Vihvelin’s model, the actual choice is never from the agent as the ultimate source.
If the agent’s “choosing/trying” is determined by prior conditions, then she literally cannot do otherwise in the actual world.
If it’s left to randomness in an indeterministic world, then the outcome doesn’t arise from her rational agency either. In that case, the randomness itself functions as a decisive obstacle to exercising ability, since it severs authorship from the agent and gives it to randomness. The actual exercise of ability is blocked by random events. Either way, the agent’s so-called opportunity collapses.
So even though W-Ability borrows the language of “opportunity,” it never secures genuine sourcehood. The supposed opportunity collapses either into determinism (no leeway) or randomness (no authorship). In both determinism and randomness, the so-called agent is reduced to a conduit of forces outside her control—less an originator, more a passive puppet.
C-Ability (Categorical Ability): By contrast, C-Ability says that at time t, in the actual world, the agent herself possesses the live power to either A or not-A. Nothing — not prior conditions, not laws of nature, not hidden determinative or random factors — overrides her rational agency. That is why she can be held responsible: she is the ultimate source who settles which alternative possibility becomes actual.
This isn’t just a philosophical quibble—it matters because Paul’s assurance rests on the believer’s genuine, agent-sourced ability in the actual moment of temptation.
The Text (1 Cor. 10:13): Paul does not say, “God is faithful, who will sometimes give you resources that might have been effective if your dispositions were different.” He says: “You are able … God will provide a way of escape … so that you may endure it.” This is categorical assurance in the actual moment of temptation, not conditionalized possibility.
The Reasoning, Step by Step:
If Carlson’s W-Ability is all Paul meant, then “you are able” reduces to: “You could not do otherwise now, but you could have if conditions were different.” That’s absurd as pastoral encouragement.
The indicative present of dunasthe (as Klein showed) points to what is actually true right now, not hypothetically true under altered circumstances.
The pastoral logic demands genuine alternatives from the agent. Paul’s promise is that when a Christian sins, she really could have taken the way of escape. Without that, moral responsibility and pastoral hope evaporate.
So here’s the dilemma for you, Colton: if your definition of W-Ability really does secure an unblocked opportunity for the agent, then you have basically affirmed C-Ability. If it doesn’t, then you're left with determinism or randomness — both of which function as decisive obstacles preventing one from doing otherwise.
So either way, Colton, the text itself points to libertarian freedom: the believer truly is able.
CC: //Tim, you said, “Colton, you’re stealing from libertarian freedom to argue against it. You’re importing the language of leeway and sourcehood while denying the very conditions that make them meaningful.”
Do you have a textbook of libertarian language so I can be sure to avoid those certain words in the future? I suppose I should be more careful. Is careful a word to avoid, too? I guess I am not too sure. I wasn’t aware that libertarians own the dictionary. I apologize.//
TIM
: Colton, I’m not suggesting libertarians own the dictionary. I’m pointing out that certain terms—
leeway
,
sourcehood
,
could have done otherwise
—carry technical meanings in the philosophy of free will. If you use them while stripping away the very conditions that make them intelligible, you’re not simply redefining words; you’re smuggling in the appearance of libertarian freedom without the reality of it.
Think of it like this: if a determinist insists “I believe in genuine alternatives,” but by “genuine alternatives” he means, “I could have acted differently if the past and laws of nature had been different,” then he hasn’t actually preserved alternatives—he’s redefined them away. The language sounds libertarian, but the metaphysics isn’t. That’s why I called it “stealing” from libertarianism: it borrows the vocabulary of freedom while denying the ontology that gives it content.
So no, the issue isn’t about banning words from your vocabulary. The issue is about conceptual clarity. If you want to reject libertarian freedom, that’s fair—but then it’s also fair to insist that you not use libertarian categories to make your model sound freer (and better) than it actually is. Otherwise, it’s like selling tainted tap water in a bottle labeled “spring water.”
At the end of the day, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 10:13 promise believers something far richer than your dispositional “if.” They promise real leeway, real sourcehood, real alternatives, real power to actively fight sin in the real world—categorical assurance that you are able. You can fight. You can win! To deny that and yet keep using the language of “choice,” “ability,” or “opportunity” is precisely what I’m calling out.
Words without the substance behind them are just rhetoric.
CC: //The fact is I never imported ultimate sourcehood in describing a dispositional agent causation. I never imported C-Ability in describing W-Ability or N-Ability. C-Ability and ultimate sourcehood are the kinds of elements that are necessarily incompatible with determinism; W-Ability and N-Ability are not. Deal with the issues; resist the temptation to fall into cheap rhetoric! (Pun intended)//
TIM
: I love good puns, Colton (it did make me smile)—but if “resisting temptation” is something I can
actually
do, then every time I fail to do so, it follows that I
could
have done otherwise. And that’s the very thing you’re trying to avoid affirming.
This is precisely the problem: your W-Ability never secures that live, categorical “could have done otherwise” in the actual moment of temptation. It always retreats into conditionalized language: if my dispositions were different, if the past were different, if the causal chain ran another way, if things would randomly happen otherwise, then I would have acted differently. But again, that’s simply not pastoral assurance nor is it what Paul is communicating.
If I’m wrong, you should be able to find a good pastor preaching that sermon.
Good luck with that!
I doubt hard-core Calvinist pastors would ever preach that sermon Why? Because it’s absurd and makes a mockery of the text in God’s inspired Word.
By contrast, Paul’s teaching is not about hypothetical scenarios—it’s about real options in the real moment: “God is faithful… youare able… He will also provide the way of escape.” That’s categorical assurance, not counterfactual possibility.
That’s the sermon your pastor will preach!
So I’ll happily “deal with the issues,” as you say: the issue is that your model leaves us with no real leeway in the actual world. And if that’s the case, then Paul’s promise in 1 Cor. 10:13 evaporates into illusion. Libertarian freedom isn’t a cheap rhetorical flourish—it’s the only framework that preserves the integrity of Paul’s words, the seriousness of moral responsibility, and the hope that temptation can truly be resisted.
CC: //We can remain on this “model” issue, but I am not too confident that we will get past it. But I suppose we shall see.
I don't know why you would give out 7 parts as a response. I cannot, on God's good green Earth, reply to 7 parts. If you have more, then you can either cancel them or I suppose post them. But this will be my last response.//
TIM
: I find it odd that you are complaining about thoroughness when you are the one who wrote a 500-page glorified blog in response to my 300-page published book. Let’s be clear: you are the one who came to my platform to disagree with me. I simply quoted your words (which account for about half of the length of my replies) and then responded line by line so you couldn’t later claim: “Stratton cherry-picks” or “Stratton dodges my main arguments.” Thoroughness is fairness. If you don’t want me to respond to everything you say, then don’t say it in the first place. I’m not the one seeking you out—you continually seek to engage me.
I finally took the time to answer comprehensively, and now that the full weight of the exchange is clear, you’re backing away.
That’s not how serious dialogue works.
So let’s set the record straight:
You initiated the debate.
You wrote prolifically against my work.
I gave you the courtesy of a complete, careful response.
If that level of engagement is “too much,” then perhaps it reveals that you didn’t actually want a fair fight—you wanted sound bites. But theology and philosophy deserve more than sound bites.
And here’s the irony:
if you truly believe your position is strong, then you should welcome a thorough, point-by-point reply. Instead, your complaint about “7 YouTube comments” comes across as fatigue in the face of arguments that cut deeper than you expected.
In short: I’m not burying you with length; I’m simply matching your words and holding them accountable. If that feels overwhelming, perhaps the issue isn’t my thoroughness but your position’s fragility.
CC: //I will highlight two issues:
On video vs written dialogue. Tim, you said the following: “Writing gives us both the chance to think carefully, avoid talking past each other, and express our arguments clearly without the pressure of an immediate response. This way, we can be more precise and ensure the conversation stays focused... (i) writing actually saves time for me. (ii) Written dialogue is much more careful and clear (or at least it should be). (iii) In past interactions I’ve seen things that undermined my trust with you, and that makes me cautious about entering a live discussion with you. Written dialogue helps maintain clarity and accountability. (iv) Before I’d consider a video discussion, I’d want to see this written exchange reach a point where we’re both engaging rigorously and productively. Why would I waste time on video when I could be engaging with actual scholars who publish in the academic literature?”
First, it is proven that people tend to talk past each other in written format rather than verbal format. This is a known fact. I get the fact that you don't want to be pressured to give an immediate response, etc. but that's just good discussion and dialogue. We can be more precise on written format, but I think we tend to get bogged down with the issues so much more on written format than with verbal. I just don't have the time to write out a response to 7 parts... to a YouTube comment. THAT to me isn't productive for us. I am stunned that apparently you have that time. And maybe you do, and that's great. I have a daughter who is 4 years old; a lovely wife to love and help around the house; a full-time job that actually takes up close to around 11 hours per day on the weekdays. I just don't have this time. Verbal/video format is much better for me. So, if writing saves you time, I suppose. But that's shocking for me. //
TIM: I made the time because I was tired of seeing your friends and colleagues on FB, YouTube, and X responding to my work with, “Colton Carlson has refuted your argument!” When I ask them if they’ve read your 500-page Magnum Opus blog, I’ve yet to meet a single person who has. And when I press them to explain
how
you’ve supposedly refuted me, the response is always the same: silence.
So I finally decided to clear the decks and respond to you thoroughly. Not because I enjoy long back-and-forths in YouTube comments (I don't), but because it was necessary to show that the blind confidence people place in your work is misplaced.
If that looks like “seven parts” to you, then so be it, but you can’t launch a 500-page blog and then complain when my reply to you is comprehensive. You started this, Colton. I’m just finishing what you began.
CC: //I requested a very informal, recorded dialogue, on your channel, at your convenience. I even asked to see if you were available this summer in June and messaged you twice about meeting up in Kearney, NE (I was passing through); perhaps you didn't see it. We had only one 1-on-1 face-to-face discussion. And it was good. Informal. What I am requesting is not outlandish; it's not obscure; it's not weird. //
TIM: Did I not respond to you over FB messenger? I apologize if I missed it, my band has been touring quite a bit this summer and some things inevitably fall through the cracks (ask Johnathan Pritchett). Regarding our video call, sure, we were cordial, but we got absolutely nowhere! I left that call frustrated, realizing that a live, informal back-and-forth wasn’t going to produce clarity. That’s one reason why I shifted to this written dialogue: it forces precision, keeps the record public, and prevents either of us from rewriting history after the fact.
And let’s be real here: I’ve also seen the kinds of things you’ve said about me on social media and in places you thought were private. People send me screenshots, Colton. I’ve read your slander against me and my ministry. That doesn’t just undermine the spirit of Christian debate—it undermines trust.
Bottom line: you’ve not only lost this argument, you’ve lost my trust. And trust matters. I can debate hard with open theists like Warren McGrew, yet he still respects me enough to recommend my work to others. That mutual respect allows ongoing dialogue. I trust Warren! You, by contrast, have offered no such courtesy.
So yes—it is “weird” that you would invite yourself onto my platform after scorning and mocking me in other settings. Platforms aren’t neutral; they reflect credibility, and I don’t owe mine to someone who undermines my work, my ministry, my scholarship, and my character elsewhere. If you want dialogue, this is the context: written, careful, public, and accountable.
And let’s not pretend that this is unfair. You’ve had your say—thousands upon thousands of words worth of say. I’ve simply answered you line by line so that no one can accuse me of cherry-picking or dodging. If you don’t want me to respond thoroughly, then don’t make sweeping claims to begin with.
The bottom line is this: you’ve invited yourself into this conversation, you’ve raised the objections, and now that they’ve been met head-on, you don’t get to dictate the terms or cut off the exchange when the weight of rebuttal hits.
CC: //And I think we are engaging productively and rigorously. Why wouldn't we be here? We disagree, but it's helpful to see where our commitments lie. And you say "Why would I waste time on video when I could be engaging with actual scholars who publish in the academic literature?" Are you saying a (maybe) 2 hour video discussion would take up far LESS time than these written responses over the last few days? That's wholly bizarre to me! Unless you are an extreme prodigy typer, using AI to help format the discussion and adding in details or whatever, I have literally no idea how that is possible.//
TIM
: I am an extreme prodigy typer (ask my wife)! I also have the gift (or a curse) of laser-focus when I decide to commit (ask my wife about that too)!
Colton, you find it “bizarre” that I would commit this much time to writing, but the truth is simple: written dialogue is the only format that preserves clarity, accountability, and precision. A video call gets lost in the ether—misremembered, reinterpreted, and spun later on social media. A written exchange, however, leaves a public record where every argument can be weighed on its merits, every claim tested, every misrepresentation exposed. That’s not wasted time—that’s responsible dialogue.
You say you don’t have time for seven parts, but you had time to write a 500-page blog responding to my book and make countless 3-hour videos on YouTube criticizing my work. The irony isn’t lost on anyone. If you prefer brevity, you could have offered it from the start. But once you decided to engage in such depth, I had every right—and every responsibility—to respond with equal thoroughness. Anything less would have allowed you to claim I “cherry-picked.”
So here’s the bottom line: the medium you prefer is the one that shields you from the full weight of critique. The medium I insist on is the one that holds both of us accountable. Written dialogue doesn’t just save time (I don't have to watch your multiple 3-hour long videos with Tyler Vela)—it saves truth from distortion. And if truth really matters here, then this is exactly where the conversation belongs.
CC: // But hey, to each his own. I have spent, maybe, on average, these last few nights, about 1 hour in response to you each day. That's more than a 2 hour discussion. So, to me these written responses are wasting my time, then. Next, you say "published scholars in the academic literature". Okay, spend time with them then. You didn't have to respond. You didn't have to engage. Go for it! Honestly, we are already spending ALL this time dialoguing on written format, might as well be a video which I would assume takes LESS time. But for you, perhaps it's not less time. You keep going on about scholars, and publishing, etc. I don't see you cite anyone of those scholars to make your case.//
TIM:
It's clear you have not carefully read my academic published work, Colton. If you had, you would have seen that it’s packed with citations and careful engagement with the scholarly literature. That’s the place where footnotes belong. Do I offer footnotes on YouTube or Facebook? No—and I don’t need to. That’s not the medium.
But let’s be clear: I’m not advancing someone else’s arguments second-hand (as you are attempting to do). I’m advancing my own. The same arguments that I publish in peer-reviewed academic journals and books, I put into play here. The difference is that I don’t always weigh them down with footnotes when the context doesn’t require it.
So if you’re missing “scholars” in my responses, it’s because you’re overlooking the obvious fact that I’m citing myself—my own work, my own arguments, my own contributions to the literature. ;-)
And here’s the irony: the very fact that you keep pressing me in long-form writing shows that my work has forced you to engage. You wrote a 500-page blog trying to refute a 300-page book. If that doesn’t testify to substance, I don’t know what does.
CC: // I cite plenty of scholars to make my case. So if you really cared about which scholars you engage with, I would see them cited in your work (but we don't). I see Moreland, sure. Kane here and there; sure. But I am going out of my way to provide publication dates, with page and chapter numbers often. Instead I get ridiculed for appealing to them because I don't expound on them, or whatever in an informal setting. It's quite unsettling, my friend.//
TIM:
Colton, I’m not ridiculing you for citing scholars. I’m calling out the
way
you use those citations. Listing publication dates and page numbers doesn’t mean you’ve actually done the hard work of showing how those scholars directly support your claim in the context of our debate. Anyone can footnote-drop, but real engagement requires explaining the argument, showing its relevance, and defending why it applies here.
When I cite thinkers like Moreland, Craig, Kane, or Plantinga, it’s not just to name-drop—it’s because their reasoning dovetails with the point I’m advancing, and I take the time to unpack it. That’s what makes it substantive instead of merely cosmetic.
So yes, you cite “plenty of scholars,” but quantity doesn’t substitute for quality or clarity. If you really want the weight of scholarship behind you, the key isn’t piling up references—it’s demonstrating exactly why this particular argument from this scholar decisively helps your case and undercuts mine. Otherwise, it looks less like scholarship and more like smoke and mirrors.
And let’s not forget: I’ve produced peer-reviewed work where engagement with scholars is at the highest level of rigor. In these debates, though, the onus is on you and I to spell things out, not hide behind bibliographies.
Bottom line: I’m not unsettled by your appeals to scholars—I’m unsettled by the lack of explanatory power in how you wield them.
CC: // Finally, for the record, it's not like I have this flaming trust for you either. But I am literally going out of my way to discuss issues with you; writing tons upon tons upon tons, specifically your work (or work surrounding your work). I think trust is wholly irrelevant to verbal discussion, personally. We are brothers in Christ; we have been forgiven; we have forgiven. To me, this is sufficient to let the past be forgotten in my mind. I will leave it at that.
TIM
: Colton, I want to believe you, but I literally saw you mocking me two days ago on FB. I even took a screenshot.
I do forgive you, but I do not trust you. Trust is earned, and you’ve worked against it too many times. Forgiveness is commanded, and I freely give it. But relational trust is something else — it’s built on truth, consistency, and respect, and that’s what has been missing.
That’s why I prefer a written dialogue like this: it holds us accountable to the words we actually write, not to shifting memories or impressions. It keeps the focus on arguments and ideas rather than personalities. And at the end of the day, that’s what I care about: the truth of the gospel, the integrity of Scripture, and the hope of genuine freedom in Christ.
CC: //2. Ultimate Sourcehood. I will pull only one quote because a lot of it is repetitious: You said, “At the end of the day, Colton, this is what it all comes down to: if the agent herself is not the ultimate source of at least some of her thoughts, beliefs, and actions, then responsibility and rationality collapse.”
I think you are right that in all comes down to this. This is why I don't find this discussion fruitful any longer. I realize you have a methodological approach to this issue that is fundamentally distinct to mine. I am asking you to prove C-Ability from the verse, and you response by something along the lines of "without ultimate sourcehood... without C-Ability... the agent cannot be free." I usually respond by saying, "right... they cannot be free in the *incompatibilist sense*, but so what? That needs to be proved". You respond back by saying something like, "You have conceded the playoffs, the game, whatever." //
TIM:
Colton, I have applied logic to the text of Scripture. Full stop. You keep treating this as if I’m smuggling in C-Ability arbitrarily, but the inference is clear:
Paul explicitly promises ability — “you are able” (1 Cor. 10:13). That’s categorical language, not hypothetical.
That ability entails genuine alternatives — the believer can either give in to temptation or take the way of escape in the actual world. That’s leeway, not just dispositional “if”s.
If every choice is determined by prior causes outside the believer’s control, then this categorical assurance collapses into illusion. Paul’s words become empty rhetoric.
So when I say “without ultimate sourcehood… without C-Ability… the agent cannot be free,” I’m not begging the question. I’m unpacking the necessary conditions that make Paul’s assurance coherent. If you grant the text, you grant the conclusion.
You want me to “prove” incompatibilist freedom from the verse. But that’s exactly what the verse, coupled with logical analysis, already delivers: an assurance that makes no sense unless the agent is the originating source with categorical power. Otherwise, Paul’s comfort becomes: “Every time you sin, you could not have done otherwise—but cheer up, you had dispositions that might have succeeded if circumstances had been different.” That’s not biblical hope; that’s pastoral malpractice that leads to despair. What hope is to be found in that horrible interpretation?
So yes, we’ve reached the playoffs and the championship game. If the regenerate believer is not the ultimate and rational source of their action in the moment of temptation, then Paul’s words evaporate. If they are, then libertarian freedom follows. That’s the logic, that’s the text, and that’s why I stand firm.
CC: //Here's the rub: you are arguing based on the impossibility to the contrary. You are proving what you want based on the fact that nothing else works. This is a glorified transcendental argument, or in my mind, a negative line of argumentation. I disagree with this methodology.//
TIM
: First, tell Sye Ten Bruggencate that I employ transcendental argumentation in a presuppositional sense! He has publicly made it clear that my arguments don’t belong to that category. Moreover, your friend and colleague Eli Ayala – who has an entire YouTube channel dedicated to transcendental argumentation – rejects both the Free-Thinking Argument and the Deity of Deception Argument (although he shouldn’t). But let’s be fair:
one of the best ways to establish what is probably true is to rule out the alternatives. That’s not a “cheap negative strategy”—that’s the way science operates every single day.
And science has a pretty impressive track record of getting to the truth by eliminating what doesn’t work.
The same principle holds in analytic philosophy. J.P. Moreland and I demonstrated this in our peer-reviewed article (and forthcoming book): we systematically ruled out naturalistic determinism, supernatural determinism, and randomness. When those collapse, what’s left standing is sourcehood libertarian freedom. That’s not sleight of hand; that’s careful reasoning.
Now, if you want to call this a “negative methodology,” fine—but then you have to explain why this same basic method is acceptable in physics, biology, and philosophy of science, but suddenly objectionable when it threatens your subjective greatest desire of compatibilism.
What’s your alternative?
And here’s the decisive point (sorry to beat this dead horse): Paul isn’t offering a hypothetical “if-then” possibility that collapses into determinism or randomness. He’s offering categorical assurance—“You are able… God will provide a way of escape.” If your framework cannot make sense of that in the actual moment of temptation, then it is your methodology—not mine—that breaks down.
So yes, I’m happy to “argue from the impossibility of the contrary.” That’s not a weakness. It’s exactly how rational inquiry works. And until you can show how your method provides the believer with real leeway at the moment of temptation, your objection is just smoke.
CC: // I think we should prove things positively, not through the impossibility to the contrary. So, when you have given the Greek word for power, or able, that is pretty close to what I have been asking for: how, from the text, can we get C-Ability, for example. But then you stop short and quickly back-fire into the impossibility to the contrary proof. So I say "You haven't proved incompatibilism!" and you say "I have!" Two different methods. //
TIM:
Colton, I think you’ve misunderstood my method. I
do
give a positive argument from the text itself. The Greek word
dunamis
(“power,” “able”) is categorical, not conditional. Paul doesn’t say, “If things had been different, you would have had a chance.” He says, “You are able.” That is a positive exegetical foundation: Paul grounds a believer’s actual, present capacity in God’s faithfulness and the provided way of escape (1 Cor. 10:13).
Now, once we’ve established that positive claim from the text, the philosophical question follows: what model of freedom actually makes sense of Paul’s categorical assurance? And this is where methodology matters.
Compatibilist models always reduce ability to a counterfactual or different possible world ("if something was different, then . . ."). But that’s not what Paul promises. He promises
real power in the actual moment in the actual world.
So yes, I supplement the positive exegesis with philosophical reasoning. And that reasoning shows that without ultimate sourcehood—without categorical ability—Paul’s words collapse into either determinism or randomness. In other words, the impossibility of the contrary isn’t a “shortcut” I retreat into; it’s part of the logical demonstration that only libertarian freedom fits both the grammar of the text and the lived reality Paul is describing.
So, when you say “You haven’t proved incompatibilism,” I reply: I have—both from the direct language of the passage (dunamis) and by showing how every competing account fails to preserve its meaning (not to mention theological knowledge). That’s a positive case and a transcendental one working hand in hand. It's called a cumulative case and philosophers employ this methodology every day.
CC: //Because of this, I fail to see how progress can be made. I fundamentally disagree that we should approach this text (or really any view of philosophy) with an impossibility-to-the-contrary proof. I don't like when pressupositionalists use it; and I don't like when you are using here. I think it's question-begging with a cherry on top. You will disagree. And that is fine. And so, the debate between evidentialists and presuppositionalists continue; and so will ours for literally, from what I can ascertain, the same reason (or similar reason).
TIM:
Why think a thing like that, Colton? Can you actually show where I’ve begged the question? You’ve tried, but each and every time I’ve demonstrated why the charge doesn’t stick. The only thing I've presupposed is that you and I are rational agents who have the power to infer metaphysical and theological truth. That's what is "presupposed" in the Free-Thinking Argument. Be that as it may, I also do provide a defense for the pivotal premise, but it's not needed because if you reject that premise, then it means that you do not have the power to infer theological truth -- which is precisely what we are striving to do in these discussions. So, I presuppose that we are the kinds of creatures who have the power to do metaphysics and theology and infer knowledge of these things.
Anyway, how do you justify your conclusion that I’m “question-begging with a cherry on top”? You simply assert it, but assertion is not argument. You’re doing the very thing you accuse me of doing—making a claim without support. That’s ironic, brother.
Here’s the deeper issue: eliminating false alternatives isn’t question-begging, it’s just sound reasoning. That’s how logic works, that’s how philosophy works, it's how the historical method works, and that’s how science works. If you can show that every competing model fails, then the one left standing isn’t guilty by default—it’s the best explanation available (which means it's probably true). Unless you can demonstrate that I’ve misapplied that method, the charge of question-begging collapses.
So instead of repeating the rhetoric, give reasons. Otherwise, you’re simply name-calling while sidestepping the actual arguments.
CC: //That's my issue: you cannot import incompatibilism in the text, and then when I reply with a different kind of ability (one that is compatible with determinism), you often say "That's a redefinition; it's not genuine freedom, or whatever." And I'm like... "Okay? But incompatibilist C-Ability needs to be shown why it's "genuine freedom"" blah blah blah. We will never, then, get to the bottom of it. //
TIM:
Let me remind you (and those following along) of what actually happened. I didn’t smuggle in some foreign notion of “incompatibilism” to the text. What I did was take Paul’s statement in 1 Corinthians 10:13—“you are able”—and asked what kind of ability that language naturally conveys.
On its face, it’s categorical and present: in the very moment of temptation, the believer truly has the power either to give in or to take the way of escape.
The conditionalized, dispositional reading—“you would have succeeded if you had other things would have been different”—doesn’t arise from the text; it gets imported into it. That’s the real issue. Indeed, it is you, Colton, who is starting with your philosophical presuppositions and pressing them upon scripture. Now, when you respond by offering W-Ability or some other compatibilist-friendly sense of ability, the issue isn’t that I arbitrarily dismiss it.
The issue is that those models
redefine
ability in a way that removes the live, categorical power Paul explicitly affirms.
They exchange actual alternatives for counterfactual hypotheticals. They trade a real way of escape for a “you would have if you had wanted to.” And when I point that out, you call it rhetoric. But it’s not rhetoric—it’s exegesis plus logic.
So yes, the burden is on incompatibilism to show why its account secures “genuine freedom.” But in this case, it’s the compatibilist who bears the heavier burden—because you’re the one offering a reading of 1 Corinthians 10:13 that empties Paul’s pastoral assurance of its substance. You want to say believers could not have done otherwise in the actual world, while Paul tells them in the actual world, in the actual moment of temptation: “You are able.” Those two cannot be reconciled.
This is why I keep pressing the point. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just philosophy on the line—it’s whether Paul’s promise is meaningful. The Bible is on the line! And unless you secure categorical alternatives, your model collapses under the very text you’re trying to explain.
CC: //Just know, I think the 1 Cor 10:13 argument for LFW is horrendously eisegeting the text. I will divulge your multiple shot-gunning argument in the 7 parts. But I think they all fail for some reason or another. We are just repeating ourselves at this point.
God bless. Have a great day, my friend! Thanks for the communication and dialogue.//
TIM: Colton, thank you again for the dialogue. Though we continue to disagree, I remain justified and confident that 1 Corinthians 10:13 offers real, categorical assurance—that in the moment of temptation, the believer truly “is able,” and that this points to libertarian freedom rather than undermines it. I don’t see that as eisegesis, but as a faithful reading of Paul’s pastoral promise.
This conviction isn’t abstract for me. When I take teenagers on Maven Immersive Experience trips, I tell them that the next time they face temptation, they really do have the power to resist, fight, and overcome sin. THey don't have to sin! I’ve watched lives change when young men and women finally realize that God has equipped them with what it takes to fight in this spiritual war. They are not passive victims; they are empowered warriors.
That’s why this debate matters—it’s not just academic. It shapes how we encourage real believers in real moments of struggle, in the real world.
I’m grateful for the time, thought, and energy you’ve given here, Colton. Even if we remain at an impasse, I trust God can use exchanges like this to sharpen both of us (and those following along).
So may the Lord bless you, grant wisdom, and fill your home with joy. At the end of the day, those gifts far outweigh any dispute over Calvinism, compatibilism, libertarianism (or any other "ism").
Stay reasonable—“Come now, let us reason together,” says the Lord (Isaiah 1:18).
Dr. Tim Stratton




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