Thinking Through Calvinism

A man and a woman married. They bought a small Cape Cod house in the suburbs, an older structure but functional and aesthetically pleasing.

House with partially open garage door, revealing opening in back of garage to another worldOne day, the garage door malfunctioned; a spring had broken. The wife, who worked from home, arranged for the repair.

Several days later, the husband returned from work to find the garage door repaired. He was quite pleased, and told his wife so. That made her happy, as the repairman had suggested performing other household repairs. Having done such a fine job on the garage door, the man readily agreed.

As time went on and items around the house were fixed, the man sensed a growing distance between him and his wife. Slowly it seemed their relationship was breaking down. He did not know why.

One day, he discovered his wife had engaged in an affair with the strapping, tall repairman. This shattered the husband’s trust and broke his heart. He could not remain in such a relationship.

The wife, realizing what she had lost, ended the affair and begged the husband for a second chance. “Let’s start over,” she said.

Yet the husband refused; not because he didn’t want to be with her, but because he could no longer trust her with his heart. He could have easily taken her back, and he did indeed ponder such, but every time he did his own heart felt empty.

The wife, frustrated with the husband’s refusal to take her back, said to him in exasperation, “What must I do to earn your grace?”

“You can’t earn grace. There is only one way that can make my heart whole again to where I can give it meaningfully. You have to turn away from what you did, completely, by asking for forgiveness. When you choose me, really choose me with all of your heart and all of your soul, only then will it matter to me. Otherwise, if I took you back, where is the meaning? Where is the love?”

I have been more intentional with trying to understand Calvinism recently. This story, from a dream I had, may not be a perfect analogy to it; obviously human marriage and God’s relationship with us are very different. The dream illustrates my struggle with the genuineness of choice. Specifically, the dream was not just about repentance but the relational aspect behind it. Love matters because it is freely given.

How does that relate to Calvinism? Calvinism, at least in how I understand it today, states that we do choose Him. The question, though, is what makes that choice possible, and whether it could have been otherwise.  At the risk of possibly oversimplifying Calvinism, it is a theological framework devised by people trying to understand an aspect of the character of God we struggle with. If God is sovereign and omniscient, knowing in advance all who are saved, how can free will enter into this? If we are predestined to be saved or not, what difference do our choices make in our salvation? If God irresistibly causes the change of heart that leads to repenting, how is the choice truly free, if there is no possibility of choosing otherwise?

Yet isn’t it the choice to repent part of what gives the relationship meaning? Why can’t God be sovereign and permit free will with responsibility for choices made at the same time? Perhaps permitting that freedom is itself an expression of His sovereignty. Perhaps He designed us with freedom to choose because He desires a relationship bound by genuine love, not a contract or by decree.

I think there is danger in trying to define God’s character with our language and concepts. There are some things we are not designed to understand, but know enough to question. Consider an infinite, three-dimensional universe, where you travel in a straight line, forever. How can one wrap their mind around that?

We see shadows of elements of eternity and God’s realm without being able to comprehend it. A favorite example of an analogy is a being that lives solely in two dimensions, length and width, no depth. Put a piece of paper (the two-dimensional creature’s universe) under a light and position your hand between the light and the paper. The two-dimensional creature sees a shadow but cannot comprehend the three dimensions of the full hand.

That’s where I’ve landed currently in my Calvinism investigation. There are some things about the character of God that I cannot understand, that I must accept in faith.

There is great comfort and faith in accepting God is sovereign and we are not, that His ways are not ours, as written in Romans 11:33-34 (NASB):

Oh, the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor?

I have come to believe He gave us free will so we can truly love Him; that love given in true choice has meaning that compelled love does not. We may not be able to understand the mechanics, but He graciously has given us the capability to understand love.

You Shall Not Make For Yourself an Idol or Worship or Serve One

Recently I’ve felt compelled to write about the Ten Commandments. I’m not sure exactly why. I have been focused on the second and fifth especially recently, but I think part of the reason is simply to put forth my current view and interpretation before I begin my MA in Biblical Studies program in early 2027.

Let’s dive into the second commandment.

You Shall Not Make For Yourself an Idol or Worship or Serve One

Sunrise over mountains

When I think of idols, images of golden statues, reminiscent of the golden calf in Exodus, totem poles, and Buddha statues fill my mind. All of these are objects used in some way in worship. It’s pretty obvious this commandment applies to these kinds of things. Aaron learned that the hard way.

The Second Commandment speaks directly about making and worshiping idols. But the rest of Scripture makes clear that idolatry reaches far beyond carved images.

Over the years I’ve come to appreciate just how broad idolatry can become. An idol can be anything that begins to receive the devotion, trust, dependence, identity, or priority that rightly belongs to God.

That means almost anything can become an idol: sports teams, exercise, work, hobbies, money, even alcohol.

I’ve written before about why I stopped drinking alcohol over three years ago. One of the things I eventually realized was that drinking was taking me away from a relationship with God. I could rationalize drinking because alcohol itself is not an idol to everyone. I didn’t realize, though, that it had become one for me. I turned to alcohol to decompress under stress when I should have turned to God.

That’s an idol.

I was an active private pilot for a season in my life. I owned a Cessna 172 that was almost as old as I was for close to a decade. Often I would opt to fly Sunday mornings because of favorable weather. It was difficult to fly during the week because of work, and if Saturday weather was not favorable, then Sunday remained the only day to fly. Since mornings were usually the best time of day to fly, especially in the summer before convective heating created mild bumps and sometimes thunderstorms, I often chose flying over church.

That’s an idol.

Some weekends, Saturday night services conflicted with a desired college football game, and Sunday services could interfere with getting settled in for football. Often it became easier to sleep in, read the Sunday paper (remember those?), and ease into a day of Sunday football rather than rush to get showered and dressed in the morning, drive 45 minutes to our church, then get home barely in time for kickoff.

That’s an idol.

Even things that appear healthy can become idols. Working out is good. Taking care of the body God has given us is good. But even there, motivation matters. Are we caring for our bodies responsibly, or has appearance, performance, or vanity become central to our identity?

There’s nothing inherently wrong with drinking alcohol, pursuing hobbies, following sports, or exercising. You can’t automatically identify an object or activity as an idol. The question is what place it occupies in your life. If it begins to receive the devotion, dependence, or priority that belongs to God, it has become something more.

Idols in Scripture could represent false gods, or even become an improper attempt to represent and approach the true God. The golden calf itself is a fascinating example. After the calf was made, Aaron proclaimed, “Tomorrow shall be a feast to the LORD.” At the very least, Aaron’s declaration suggests they were not simply forgetting Yahweh altogether. They were attempting to incorporate the calf into worship that Aaron associated with the LORD, something God had expressly forbidden.

That makes the Second Commandment more challenging than simply saying, “Don’t worship statues.”

I think it’s easy for us as Christians to read the Second Commandment and stop at its most obvious meaning: don’t bow before a carved image.

But idolatry can be much more subtle and much more personal.

That leads to a remarkable truth, and part of what I mean when I sometimes say I’m “not really religious.” Christianity is not ultimately about performing religious rituals or checking boxes. At its center is reconciliation and relationship with God.

We enjoyed unbroken fellowship with God in Eden and lost it in the Fall. From Genesis 3 onward, Scripture tells the story of God’s work to redeem and restore what sin shattered, ultimately through Christ.

The Second Commandment protects that relationship by warning us not to replace God, distort Him, or give to something created the devotion that belongs to the Creator.

God calls us to Himself. He does not desire divided allegiance. He calls us to turn toward Him, trust Him, and receive what He offers. I believe we are genuinely able to respond to that call, and genuinely able to reject it.

And that means the question of idolatry is not ancient history. It is personal.

What gets my time, attention, devotion, and loyalty?

What, if anything, am I allowing to stand between God and me?

Once we begin to see the Bible not simply as a collection of ancient books and stories, but as the story of creation, rebellion, redemption, and restoration, something changes.

This isn’t merely the story of Israel, or of people who lived thousands of years ago.

It is us.

Image by Grok