Many people today who call themselves Arminians are actually semi-Pelagians and would recognize very little of their own soteriological system in the writings of Arminius. The Arminian controversy happened entirely within the Dutch Reformed church and, for his part, Arminius was not aware of having departed from Calvin’s writings or the Reformed understanding of salvation in any significant way. In his “Declaration of Sentiments”, as quoted by Olson, Arminius wrote:

I am not conscious to myself, of having taught or entertained any other sentiments concerning the justification of man before God, than those which are held unanimously by the Reformed and Protestant Churches, and which are in complete agreement with their expressed opinions.1

Indeed, classical Arminianism is closer to Calvinism than I had ever before considered. Both systems hold to Total Depravity and there is much room within classical Arminianism for an affirmation of Eternal Security or Preservation of the Saints, though it is unclear if Arminius himself affirmed it. Certainly Arminianism departs from Calvinism on Effectual Grace, Definite Atonement, and Unconditional Election, but the distinctions made are subtle and, though I may disagree with them, I now understand the motivations behind them.

Calvinists start with a high view of God’s glory. To maximize God’s glory in salvation they say (essentially) man does not have free will. God alone gets the glory for my salvation, because it wasn’t my choice. Problem is, what do we do about evil? If there’s no free will and evil exists then we have to somehow say God is responsible for evil. But the Bible says God doesn’t sin. So somehow we have to affirm God ordains evil without becoming the author of sin.

I have seen a lot of Calvinists try to work their way out of this one. We absolutely don’t want to accuse God of sin or evil, so it usually gets chalked up to a mystery or a paradox. Here’s an example from Wayne Grudem:

In spite of all of the foregoing statements, we have to come to the point where we confess that we do not understand how it is that God can ordain that we carry out evil deeds and yet hold us accountable for them and not be blamed himself. We can affirm that all of these things are true, because Scripture teaches them. But Scripture does not tell us exactly how God brings this situation about or how it can be that God holds us accountable for what he ordains to come to pass. Here Scripture is silent, and we have to agree with Berkhof that ultimately “the problem of God’s relation to sin remains a mystery.”2

Arminians start with a high view of God’s glory. To make sure God cannot possibly be accused of sin, they say man has free will. I alone get the blame for my sin because it was my choice. Problem is, what does an Arminian do about salvation? If there is free will then he has to say he is responsible for his own salvation, even if it’s an infinitesimally small amount of responsibility. But the Bible says salvation is all of grace. So somehow he has to affirm man makes a choice but in such a way that the result ends up being entirely by grace.

When an Arminian is asked why he chose Jesus and his friend or neighbor or family member didn’t, he gets uncomfortable and can’t answer the question. He wants to give God all the glory for his salvation, so it usually gets chalked up to a mystery or a paradox. Here’s an example from William Burton Pope (quoted in Olsen’s book):

In the secret recesses of man’s nature the grace is given disposing and enabling him to yield. Though the will must at last act from its own resources and deliberate impulse, it is influenced through the feeling and the understanding in such a manner as to give it strength. It is utterly hopeless to penetrate this mystery: it is the secret between God’s Spirit and man’s agency. There is a Divine operation which works the desire and acts in such a manner as not to interfere with the natural freedom of the will. The man determines himself, through Divine grace, to salvation: never so free as when swayed by grace.3

So both sides end up doing theological gymnastics and holding to a mystery, a paradox. They each feel a tension about the very thing the other side feels absolute confidence about. The most important thing to recognize, though, is that both sides started from a high view of God’s glory. We may disagree with each other about which of these two mysteries is less uncomfortable to hold, but we all must recognize the orthodox impulse in the other side to affirm and uphold both God’s sovereignty and his goodness. Too often Calvinists accuse Arminians of affirming man’s free will in a humanistic effort to protect or elevate the character of man, but this is not the classical Arminian motivation at all.

At the end of the day I may still disagree with him, but I’m glad I read Olson’s book and I’m grateful to him for helping hardhearted Calvinists like myself see and appreciate the point of view of classical Arminianism. 

1. Olson, Roger (2006). Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities (p. 203). IVP Academic. Kindle Edition. [↩]
2. Grudem, Wayne (2009). Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (p. 330). Zondervan. Kindle Edition. [↩]
3. Olson, Roger (2006). Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities (p. 172). IVP Academic. Kindle Edition. [↩]

Michael Horton from his book, Introducing Covenant Theology:

People don’t know how to relate God to the world he has made. Some banish God from his own domain, as in deism, in which adherents acknowledge God’s existence but deny his personal involvement in the world. God is thus often perceived as an impersonal force or abstract principle. Others simply identify God with the world, as if the difference between God and humans were merely quantitative (God as greater, larger, more impressive, intelligent, and powerful) rather than qualitative (different from that which he has made). Ironically, in either case, God is rendered irrelevant: either by being too distant from us or by being absorbed into us—our will, our intellect, our emotions, our experience. The point of idolatry is to maintain our own autonomy (i.e., sovereignty) over God, either by banishment or absorption. In the one case, we ignore the reality of God; in the other, we use God as a projection for our own felt needs and make him serve our own ends. As we will see, the biblical understanding of God’s relationship to the world as covenantal is both a bridge that deism ignores and a bar to any confusion of the Creator with his creation.1

And fifteen pages later:

In pagan religions and philosophies, human beings were often seen, at least in their spiritual or intellectual aspect, as a spark of the divine essence. Quite often a particular race was identified with the divinity, and the king was seen as an incarnation of a divine figure. The case was, of course, quite different for Israel. The sovereign God, creator and lord of all, was utterly distinct from his creation. No part of God’s nature or knowledge coincided with the creature at any point. That is to say, God is transcendent. Therefore, any relationship that one might have with this God would have to be something other than a natural relationship—that is, the relationship could not be explained in terms of, say, a common spiritual essence shared by the Creator and a creature. According to the Bible, that relationship—a covenant—is established by God in his freedom. We are not related to God by virtue of a common aspect of our being, but by virtue of a pact that he himself makes with us to be our God.

In distinction from pagan mythology, the denial of any natural connection between the Creator and creature establishes the biblical emphasis on God’s transcendence (his incomprehensible majesty). However, the fact that God has chosen to enter into a personal relationship with us by means of covenant underscores his immanence (or nearness). It is not surprising then that God adapted the international treaty as the template for his relationship to creatures. That relationship really is a matter of “foreign relations”. The creature, even the one made in his image, is never divine or semidivine, but is always other than God. Although there may be similarities between the creature and the Creator, there are always greater differences. In other words, God not only differs quantitatively (i.e., possessing greater degrees of being, wisdom, omnipotence, etc.) but qualitatively. . . . “Covenant” is exactly the right concept for such “foreign relations.”2

1. Michael Horton. Introducing Covenant Theology (p. 15). Kindle Edition. [↩]
2. Michael Horton. Introducing Covenant Theology (pp. 29–30). Kindle Edition. [↩]