Living in the Mystery of God

An abandoned railroad tunnel. Photo by James Jordan

I’ve never been big on theological labels.

For a while I called myself a Calvinist, and I’m still no hater of the system. I can’t accept limited atonement. Christ died for all—that part seems clear. But once you say the provision is truly for everyone, another question rises up: if the gift is already there for every person, why does it matter whether someone accepts it or even knows about it? Shouldn’t “all” simply mean all?

That question used to bother me more than it does now.

I’ve come to see that the greater problem is our constant urge to explain the unexplainable. We keep trying to map out the mind of God, and none of us really has the ability to do that.

Take the harder questions that sit right behind free will and election. Why create people with a real capacity—and after the Fall, a strong propensity—to sin, then hold them accountable for it? Why give genuine freedom knowing most of us will choose poorly a good deal of the time?

If I were an atheist, I’d lean hard on that one. It’s a strong objection. But I’m not an atheist. I’m more the mystic type.

I’ve grown comfortable living in the not-knowing.

The same comfort applies to how God knows the future. Somehow—I don’t claim to understand the mechanics—He knows what is coming without determining it.

Knowledge isn’t the same as causation.

We live inside time, moment after moment. In the spirit world, or whatever dimension God fully inhabits, time doesn’t work the way it does for us. From that vantage, past, present, and future are simply present. He sees the whole without having to force every choice that unfolds inside our timeline.

Arminianism never sat right because of the lack of eternal security. Calvinism lost me on limited atonement. The newer term “Provisionist” probably fits the leftover pieces—God provides for all, people can respond, and once you’re in you’re secure—but I don’t feel any need to wear the label.

Labels are useful for debate; they’re less useful for living.

What remains is simpler and harder at the same time: trust the character of God, hold the clear parts of Scripture firmly, and leave the rest in the mystery. The secret things belong to Him. I’m okay with that now. Not every question needs an answer I can fully explain. Some just need room to breathe.