The New Atheism
Southwestern Journal of Theology
Volume 54, No. 1 – Fall 2011
Managing Editor: Malcolm B. Yarnell III
By Kenneth Keathley. Nashville: B&H Academic, 2010. 232 pages. Softcover, $24.99.
In Salvation and Sovereignty, Kenneth Keathley seeks to provide an account of salvation which is faithful to the biblical witness, taking into account both the sovereign work of God’s grace and a robust conception of human freedom. In order to accomplish this task Keathley appeals to the work of Luis Molina (1535–1600), a familiar figure to those aware of the debates about human freedom and divine foreknowledge in philosophy of religion. Molinism, says Keathley, forms an unlikely and radical “compatibilism” between “a Calvinist view of divine sovereignty and an Arminian view of human freedom,” and does this by way of the doctrine of God’s middle knowledge (5). God’s “middle knowledge” is so called because it is found in the second of three logical moments of God’s knowledge, between his natural knowledge and his free knowledge. God’s natural knowledge is his knowledge of all possibilities, says Keathley, the knowledge of everything that could happen. God’s free knowledge is his perfect knowledge of this world that he chose to create. This knowledge is referred to as free by Molina because it is a result of God’s free choice to create this world rather than any of the other infinite possible worlds He could have created. So God’s free knowledge is his knowledge of what will happen. God’s middle knowledge, on the other hand, is his knowledge of what would happen; that is, it is God’s knowledge of what any free creature would freely choose to do in any given circumstance. So, says Molina, God can use his middle knowledge (his knowledge of what are called counterfactuals of creaturely freedom) to engineer circumstances in such a way that He can exercise sovereign control over his creation without violating the freedom of human beings. Molinism is not simply a philosophical system, but according to Keathley, has decisive biblical support (19–38).
Having established his Molinist framework in chapter one, Keathley begins to apply it to the doctrine of salvation. In chapter two he considers the question “Does God desire the salvation of all?” and answers in the affirmative. This answer, of course, creates another problem. If God desires all be saved, why are some damned? Keathley considers a number of options, and argues for a distinction between the antecedent and consequent wills of God. Antecedently, God wills that all be saved, and consequently he wills that faith be the condition for salvation. This position, Keathley argues, “seems to be the clear teaching of Scripture” (58).
In chapters three through seven, Keathley lays out a case for a soteriology that also makes use of the Molinist framework. As Keathley notes on the first page, his work is directed primarily at the Christian who finds himself “convinced of certain central tenets of Calvinism but not its corollaries.” Keathley himself finds the biblical evidence compelling for three of the points of TULIP: total depravity, unconditional election, and perseverance of the saints, but refashions these concepts in his own language. As to the others, Keathley rejects them out of hand, arguing that “[l] imited atonement and irresistible grace cannot be found in the Scriptures unless one first puts them there” (2). And so Keathley proceeds by replacing the TULIP acronym with the ROSES acronym suggested by Timothy George, and structuring the remainder of the book along those lines. Chapter three is devoted to Radical depravity, chapter four to Overcoming grace, chapter five to Sovereign election, chapter six to Eternal life, and chapter seven to Singular redemption. It is thus in chapters four and seven that Keathley mounts arguments against the TULIP points of irresistible grace and limited atonement for which he finds no support in Scripture. In chapter four he argues instead for a monergistic view of grace (one according to which God accomplishes our salvation without our cooperation) which is resistible, and in chapter seven he argues that Christ’s atoning work is sufficient for each and every individual (Christ died for each and every person in particular), but efficient only for those who believe (faith is a condition for salvation). It is worth noting that while Keathley most clearly opposes his position to Calvinism, his arguments serve equally well as responses to certain Arminian doctrines.
Keathley’s application of Molinism to the question of soteriology is both extensive and timely. Most impressive is the mere number of biblical references in the work. Keathley makes sure that his arguments are supported by the authority of the biblical text. In addition, Keathley is to be commended for tackling passages which appear to contradict his position. Keathley does not shy away from texts commonly used by Calvinists as support for their views (he spends several pages on Rom 9), and while his interpretation of these passages undoubtedly will remain a matter of dispute, Keathley makes his case with consistency and clarity. That said, there are a couple of statements whose ambiguity could be problematic. On page 116, Keathley writes, “there is nothing in the graciousness of salvation that entails (i.e., logically requires) that the opportunity to believe be withheld from all but the elect. In fact, the overwhelming preponderance of Scripture teaches the very opposite” (emphasis added). While I do not think this is what Keathley means, one could read this last statement as pointing to a conflict within the witness of Scripture. If “the overwhelming preponderance of Scripture” testifies to one thing, say, that the opportunity to believe is not withheld from all but the elect, one might infer that there is in fact testimony in Scripture, albeit a significant minority, that the opportunity to believe is withheld from all but the elect. And thus there would be found a division in the testimony of the Word of God concerning a significant soteriological point. Here Keathley’s work would benefit from a bit more clarity.
But such clarity is one of the strongest characteristics of Keathley’s work on the whole. Although he is dealing with complicated philosophical and theological issues, Keathley is able to make them accessible to all, whether professional academic or not. Keathley achieves this clarity with language and style that is communicative, pleasant to read, and not overly technical. In certain places, this style of writing may hamper his argument somewhat. For instance, those familiar with the philosophical debates surrounding Molinism may find his explication of that doctrine a bit simplistic—but not to the degree that his understanding of the doctrine could not be defended on a more technical level. In addition, the structure of each chapter contributes greatly to understanding for readers of all levels. Keathley is comprehensive in his discussion of the various positions on each and every point, and summary charts help assist the reader in keeping all of the information organized. For these reasons, Keathley’s work will make a significant contribution to anyone’s library. Even those who disagree wholeheartedly with his conclusions will find great benefit in this work as a reference tool for the relevant positions and biblical passages.
For the most part, I agree with Paige Patterson’s evaluation in the foreword when he says that Keathley “has a philosopher’s reasoning, a theologian’s grasp of Scripture, and a preacher’s clarity” (x). But particularly as a philosopher, there is one point that I wish Keathley had argued with more vigor. In the course of explaining why he embraces soft libertarianism, Keathley explains the principle of alternative possibilities, a key component of any libertarian view of freedom. As Keathley writes, “A necessary component for liability is that, at a significant point in the chain of events, the ability to choose or refrain from choosing had to be genuinely available” (75). Here, as elsewhere, Keathley connects responsibility with alternative possibilities and a biblical understanding of freedom. According to Keathley, the Bible argues that we have freedom of responsibility, which requires agent causation, “the ability to be the originator of a decision, choice, or action” (77). The main argument offered here is that since humans are created in the image of God and since God is a causal agent, human beings are causal agents and thus possess some libertarian freedom (e.g., 8, 72). And since libertarian freedom entails responsibility (I know of no one who would argue otherwise), humans are responsible as well as free.
All of this is well and good, but Keathley’s argument would be considerably
strengthened if he moved in the other direction as well. Many Calvinists will dispute Keathley’s claim that Scripture teaches that humans possess some libertarian freedom, nor will they find his appeal to the imago dei convincing. But no Calvinist would deny that Scripture clearly teaches that humans are responsible. If Keathley could provide a good argument that responsibility requires libertarian freedom, he would go a long way in helping his case. Unfortunately, Keathley seems to simply assume that human responsibility requires alternative possibilities and thus some form of libertarian freedom rather than argue for this point. From a philosophical standpoint, Keathley would need to respond to the work of Harry Frankfurt and John Martin Fischer, who have argued vehemently that humans can be responsible without having alternative possibilities and thus libertarian freedom. Keathley consults numerous philosophers, but the work of Frankfurt and Fischer cannot be found in his bibliography. Even if responding to these philosophers would be too technical a task for this work (and thus obscure the argument rather than contribute to it), Keathley would be well served to argue the connection between libertarian freedom and human responsibility from both sides. Had he done so, he would have strengthened what is already an impressive piece of philosophical and biblical theology.
