I. Definition of Free Will: The Doctrine Refuted
Before we begin to uproot the malicious doctrine of the world and the heresies of the devil, it is requisite that we define that which we are refuting, lest there be any confusion as to our purpose. For it is the habit of deceivers, both ancient and modern, to obscure their poison under manifold terms and to clothe heresy in the garments of orthodoxy. Thus, many speak of “free will” who mean altogether contrary things, and some even dare to claim the name Reformed while yet maintaining doctrines long since condemned by the Church.
We, therefore, above all, aim to speak clearly.
By free will, in the context of this refutation, we do not mean that natural liberty whereby man acts without compulsion or external force. Such liberty is affirmed by all sound theology, including our own Confession. As the Westminster Confession of Faith, Chapter IX, §1 declares:
“God hath endued the will of man with that natural liberty, that it is neither forced, nor by any absolute necessity of nature determined, to good or evil.”
This is the liberty of choice, which pertains to man as a rational creature. But this liberty does not imply moral ability. The Confession goes on, in §3, to state the condition of fallen man:
“Man, by his fall into a state of sin, hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation: so as a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able by his own strength to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto.”
Here lies the hinge of our dispute.
The doctrine of free will which we condemn is this: that man, apart from the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit, retains within himself some power, motion, inclination, or disposition whereby he may cooperate with grace, dispose himself unto salvation, or contribute in any part to the cause of his conversion. It is this blasphemous conceit—that man may prepare himself for grace, or respond to grace by his own unrenewed will—that we now proceed to refute.
For though it be disguised in the language of “prevenient grace,” “common grace,” “moral ability,” or the “free offer of the gospel,” yet in every case it is but the old heresy of Pelagius revived, the ancient poison of Rome repackaged, the Arminian error freshly arrayed in garments fit for modern palates. Whether in papist merit, Arminian cooperation, or Baptist provisionism, the same principle underlies it: that man must contribute something to the work of salvation, and that grace is not effectual unless man consents.
Against this damnable opinion the Church has always borne witness. Augustine struck it down in the fifth century. The Reformers cast it out with the authority of Scripture and the clarity of the gospel. And the Confession of Faith, that bulwark of sound doctrine, declares that the natural man “is not able… to prepare himself thereunto.”
Let none then misunderstand our aim. We are not contending against liberty, but against ability—not against agency, but against the lie that man may choose what is spiritually good while dead in sin. For the will of man is free in its operations, but it is bound in its affections. It is not forced by God to resist the gospel; it does so freely, because it is evil. Man sins not by coercion but by nature. His rejection of Christ flows not from violence done to his will, but from the corruption of it. He loves darkness rather than light. He does what he pleases—and what he pleases is sin.
Yet let none imagine that because man sins willingly, God’s hand is absent from the ordering of his ways. The Most High has decreed from eternity all that comes to pass. He determined the fall of Adam not as its author but as its sovereign governor; He likewise ordains that many, justly condemned in Adam, shall remain in their blindness, to the praise of His glorious justice. As it is written, “He doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth: and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou?” (Dan. 4:35). And again, “Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in heaven, and in earth, in the seas, and all deep places” (Ps. 135:6).
He was under no obligation to grant to Adam grace to stand, nor is He bound to bestow grace upon the fallen. That He grants it to any is wonderful mercy; that He withholds it from others is according to His just judgment. “The Lord hath made all things for himself: yea, even the wicked for the day of evil” (Prov. 16:4). “When the wicked spring as the grass, and when all the workers of iniquity do flourish; it is that they shall be destroyed for ever” (Ps. 92:7). “Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth” (Rom. 9:18). He gives account of none of His matters.
Let this be firmly established at the outset, that man is bound in sin, God is free in grace, and no creature may rise up against his Maker to demand why one is saved and another passed by. The Judge of all the earth shall do right.
Thus the question before us is not whether man has a will, but whether that will, apart from sovereign, regenerating grace, can ever turn to God. And the answer of Scripture, the answer of our fathers, and the answer of every regenerate soul is this: It shall never be.
II. The Doctrine of Grace: Divine Sovereignty Against Synergism
1. Defining True Grace
Having defined free will, we must now likewise define grace. We reject any understanding of grace that reduces it to a mere assistance—something that helps man choose, but then leaves him free to sin again. Doctrine must be internally coherent and thoroughly consistent: if we affirm total depravity, we likewise recognize the necessity of regeneration, and accept the perseverance of the saints. If any one of them collapses, all will fall.
By grace we mean that which is efficacious, effectual, monergistic—God’s sovereign, saving work that quickens the dead, enlightens the blind, and unites the sinner to Christ. It is not merely a single act whereby God works something in the sinner, but a work of power, delivering him from the dominion of darkness and translating him into the kingdom of light. It is not an invitation but a conquest.
As it is written, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). Regeneration is not optional, nor is it partial. It is a necessity ordained by God, whereby He raises the soul from spiritual death and gives the eyes of faith to behold Christ. As the Lord declares, “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing” (John 6:63). And again, “Of his own will begat he us with the word of truth” (James 1:18). It is not we who begin this life, but God who begets.
Moreover, this grace which calls is the same that keeps. The God who justifies also sanctifies and glorifies. He does not regenerate to abandon, but to preserve. “He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). And again, “Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Pet. 1:5). The new birth issues in new life, and this life is preserved by the Shepherd of the sheep: “My sheep hear my voice… and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:27–28).
It is not a grace that invites a sinner to a hypothetical salvation, but a grace that delivers from certain death. “Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son” (Col. 1:13). And this translation is not tentative or conditional—it is definitive. For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance. He who raises the dead does not return them to the grave. He who draws effectually will lose none. “All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37).
A Word on the Manner of Preaching.
Here also appears the difference between the preaching of truth and the preaching of error. Those who believe in free will must address dead men as though they lived. They cry aloud, “Unbelievers, turn to Jesus who loves you and offers you salvation!”—as though the offer of grace were enough to awaken the corpse, and as though Christ’s love were indiscriminate, waiting upon the decision of sinners.
But this is not how the gospel is preached.
The gospel is not an appeal to the will of man, but a proclamation of the glory of Christ. The law is thundered forth to expose the sinfulness of sin, to bring the sinner to nothing, to shut his mouth and slay his pride. Then the gospel is preached—not as a proposal, but as a remedy; not as an opportunity, but as the only hope. Not free will. Not merits. Not moral striving. Christ crucified.
We do not wait for men to stir themselves. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation. It is God Himself who works through the Word, who wounds and heals, who kills and makes alive. When He speaks, the dead hear. When He calls, they come. And when He saves, He loses none.
Thus the preacher does not flatter, negotiate, or entreat the natural man to do what he cannot. He proclaims a Saviour mighty to save, and trusts the Spirit to open the heart, as He did with Lydia (Acts 16:14). That is the preaching which turns the world upside down—not because it pleads with man’s will, but because it is proclaimed with divine power.
Let it be established, then, that regeneration is not the offer of life, but the imparting of it. It is not the possibility of salvation, but the beginning of salvation itself—salvation which is of the Lord, and which He Himself will bring to completion. We do not mean:
- Prevenient grace—that which merely enables man to choose good, then leaves him to his own will;
- Universal grace—that supposes Christ’s death extends to all;
- The Free Offer—that common grace posits a real possibility for the reprobate to believe, depending on their cooperation.
All these stand condemned by Scripture and the Reformers.
2. Prevenient Grace as Synergism
The doctrine of prevenient grace announces an inherent capacity in man to respond, “concurrent with grace.” This is antithetical to total depravity, which denies any spiritual ability in fallen man.
The Westminster Confession of Faith declares soberly and without hesitation:
“Man… hath wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation: so as a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able by his own strength to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto” (WCF IX.3).
This is no philosophical exaggeration, but the plain doctrine of Holy Scripture. The testimony of God concerning man’s natural condition is consistent, universal, and devastating.
Genesis 6:5 – “And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.”
The idea of prevenient grace makes the sinner a co-worker with God—a dangerous illusion that revives the Pelagian fallacy. Man’s fallen and defiled will must not be mixed with God’s redemptive purpose.
John Calvin writes,
“the Papists confess that we are under the tyranny of the devil, and slaves to him, and that there is no right will in men, except through the prevenient (præeunte) grace of the Holy Spirit. But as I have already said, they talk vainly of the grace of the Spirit, and say that it is an influence by which God enables us to follow that which is right, if we have a will to do so. Thus, then, the grace of God, according to them, leaves men in suspense, so that they are free either to receive or to reject the grace of God. Afterwards, they join the subsequent grace, which, in their view, is a reward; for if I assent to God, that is, if I suffer myself to be ruled by his Spirit, and embrace the grace offered to me, God will then reward me with another grace to confirm me in my right purpose. And thus they confess that perseverance is in part the gift of God; but they always imagine it a co-operating grace. And then, as perseverance, according to them, is God’s subsequent grace, and is, as it were, a handmaid, it ceases to be grace, for it is rather the reward of merit.”
3. Universal Grace Contradicted by Limited Atonement
Universal grace supposes that Christ’s death has a salvific efficacy reaching every individual. Yet Scripture affirms the particular scope of redemption: “I lay down my life for the sheep” (John 10:15), “those whom thou hast given me” (John 17:9), “He shall save his people from their sins” (Matt 1:21). These texts affirm a definite, limited atonement. To extend its efficacy to all is to deny the covenants of redemption and elevate humanistic notions of fairness over divine election.
4. The Free Offer of the Gospel: A Masked Synergism
Modern Calvinists often defend the “free offer,” affirming that God sincerely invites all to believe, even if only the elect receive effectual grace. One of them in an article, reflecting the mainstream neo-Reformed position, explains:
“It is both the conviction and assumption of these lectures that the crux of the doctrine of the free offer of the gospel is God’s Indiscriminate Desire for the Salvation of Sinners…
“Offer” contains in it the notion of a proposal presented to someone which the one presenting it desires for him to accept…
The ‘free’ offer teaches that God… invites all who are willing to accept of salvation.”
Similarly, The Gospel Coalition affirms that common grace demands a universal offer, for God’s goodness entails His offer to all.
Yet this so-called “free offer” functions only on the surface. It presents God as ostensibly proposing salvation to all, while in truth saving only the elect. It turns the gospel from a proclamation of divine power into an ineffectual plea—making God appear not as a sovereign Redeemer, but as a frustrated suitor. He is portrayed as offering life to the spiritually dead, earnestly desiring their response, and yet unable to bring it to pass.
This doctrine, when pressed to its consequence, casts reproach upon the very nature of God. It implies that He wills to save those whom He has from eternity decreed to destroy. It makes His purpose double-minded, His decree mutable, and His love indistinct. It nullifies the doctrine of reprobation, overthrows the sovereign decrees, and renders grace conditional. It dethrones the Almighty and fashions in His place a weak and pleading idol—one whose will is ever thwarted by the stubbornness of man.
Though Calvin affirmed the outward preaching of the gospel to all, he sharply distinguished between the external call, which leaves the reprobate without excuse, and the effectual call, which is reserved for the elect alone. But the modern defenders of the free offer collapse these categories and propose a grace that is universal in intention but limited in power—a contradiction foreign to Scripture and unknown to the Reformed tradition at its height.
John Calvin writes in His institutes, (3.24.12)
“As God by the efficacy of His calling completes in the elect the salvation to which He appointed them by His eternal counsel, so also He executes His judgment upon the reprobate, by which He brings His counsel concerning them to pass. Those, therefore, whom He created to be vessels of wrath and examples of His severity, to dishonour in life and destruction in death—He leads to that end by various means: at one time depriving them of the opportunity to hear His Word, at another rendering them more blind and senseless through its very preaching.
Though the first kind (the withholding of the Word) admits of innumerable examples, let us choose but one, which stands out as singular and most notable. Nearly four thousand years passed before the coming of Christ, during which time the saving light of sound doctrine was hidden from all the Gentiles. If anyone answers that they were therefore not made partakers of such a great benefit because God judged them unworthy, yet their posterity is no more worthy—of which not only experience but also the clear witness of Malachi gives proof, who, rebuking their unbelief mingled with gross blasphemies, nevertheless proclaims the coming of the Redeemer (Mal. 4:1).
Why, then, is the gift granted to these and not to those? Let him torment himself in vain who seeks a reason for this higher than the secret and inscrutable counsel of God. Nor need we fear that some disciple of Porphyry may with impunity gnaw at the righteousness of God, while we are silent in His defense. For seeing that we affirm that none perish except by their just desert, and that it is of God’s free goodness alone that some are delivered—this, as we have often said, is abundantly sufficient to manifest His glory, and He has no need of our evasions to vindicate Him.
Therefore, the Sovereign Judge clears the way for His eternal decree, when He forsakes those whom He has reprobated, leaving them in blindness by withholding the communication of His light.
As for the second part (that the preaching of the Word blinds and hardens the reprobate), not only are daily examples set before our eyes, but many passages of Scripture attest the same. One and the same sermon is heard by a hundred persons: twenty receive it with prompt and obedient faith; others either neglect it altogether, or scoff at it, or mock it, or detest it. If one answers that this difference arises from their malice and depravity, that is not yet a sufficient answer; for the others also would be equally given over to malice, had not the Lord corrected them by His goodness.
Thus we shall ever be entangled unless we resort to that saying of Paul: “Who maketh thee to differ?” (1 Cor. 4:7). By which he signifies that it is not by virtue of one’s own strength, but by the grace of God alone, that one surpasses another.”
5. Conditional Covenant: John Preston and the Marrow School
“John Preston (1587–1628) and later Marrow divines argued for a covenant of grace that is conditional, universal, and thus attainable by any who believes. Preston taught that the covenant of grace invites man to believe in order to receive righteousness, as though belief were the human condition that effectuates salvation.
This conditional covenant places man alongside God in the economy of redemption, making salvation contingent upon human assent. It is therefore a theological cousin to Arminian synergism and a direct assault on the monergistic gospel.”
If the covenant of grace be conditional, then it is made between God and man—or between Christ and man—which is precisely what the free offer implies. It is a crafty, devilish artifice to reintroduce works into justification. Our Catechism warns:
“Entering into a covenant of life with him, upon condition of personal, perfect, and perpetual obedience” (§7, catechism).
But this is not the covenant of grace: it is the covenant of works, from which man fell and to which he remains entirely bound. If he desires or seeks for any condition as fulfiiled by man’s part, i.e. accepting the free offer, he is still under the works of the law and not under grace. Thomas Watson writes, “[1] The form of the first covenant in innocence was working; ‘Do this and live.’ Working was the ground and condition of man’s justification. Gal 3:12. Not but that working is required in the covenant of grace, for we are bid to work out our salvation, and be rich in good works. But works in the covenant of grace are not required under the same notion as in the first covenant with Adam. Works are not required for the justification of our persons, but as an attestation of our love to God; not as the cause of our salvation, but as an evidence of our adoption. Works are required in the covenant of grace, not so much in our own strength as in the strength of another. ‘It is God which worketh in you.’ Phil 2:13. As the teacher guides the child’s hand, and helps him to form his letters, so that it is not so much the child’s writing as the master’s, so our obedience is not so much our working as the Spirit’s co-working.
[2] The covenant of works was very strict. God required of Adam and all mankind, (I.) Perfect obedience. Adam must do all things written in the ‘book of the law,’ and not fail, either in the matter or manner. Gal 3:30. Adam was to live up to the whole breadth of the moral law, and go exactly according to it, as a well-made dial goes with the sun. One sinful thought would have forfeited the covenant. (2.) Personal obedience. Adam must not do his work by a proxy, or have any surety bound for him; but it must be done in his own person. (3.) Perpetual obedience. He must continue in all things written in ‘the book of the law.’ Gal 3:30. Thus it was very strict. There was no mercy in case of failure.
[3] The covenant of works was not built upon a very firm basis; and therefore must needs leave men full of fears and doubts. The covenant of works rested upon the strength of man’s inherent righteousness; which though in innocence was perfect, yet was subject to change. Adam was created holy, but mutable; having a power to stand and a power to fall. He had a stock of original righteousness to begin the world with, but he was not sure he would not break. He was his own pilot, and could steer right in the time of innocence; but he was not so secured but that he might dash against the rock of temptation, and he and his posterity be shipwrecked; so that the covenant of works must needs leave jealousies and doubtings in Adam’s heart, as he had no security given him that he should not fall from that glorious state.
[4] The covenant of works being broken by sin, man’s condition was very deplorable and
desperate. He was left in himself helpless; there was no place for repentance; the justice of God being offended set all the other attributes against him. When Adam lost his righteousness, he lost his anchor of hope and his crown; there was no way for relief, unless God would find out such a way as neither man nor angel could devise.
Use: Learn from Adam’s fall, how unable we are to stand in our own strength. If Adam, in the state of integrity, did not stand, how unable are we now, when the lock of our original righteousness is cut. If purified nature did not stand, how then shall corrupt nature? We need more strength to uphold us than our own.
Use: Whosoever they are that look for righteousness and salvation by the power of their freewill, or the inherent goodness of their nature, or by virtue of their merit, as the Socinians and Papists, they are all under the covenant of works. They do not submit to the righteousness of faith, therefore they are bound to keep the whole law, and in case of failure they are condemned. The covenant of grace is like a court of Chancery, to relieve the sinner, and help him who is cast by the first covenant. It says, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and be saved’; but such as will stand upon their own inherent righteousness, free-will and merit, fall under the first covenant of works, and are in a perishing estate.”
Thomas Watson sharply distinguishes between the covenant of works and the covenant of grace in form, requirement, and foundation. In the covenant of works, doing was the ground of justification: “Do this and live.” It demanded perfect, personal, and perpetual obedience—without fail, and without a surety. It offered no provision for mercy, nor any security against the fall. Adam stood in his own strength, and when he fell, all mankind fell with him. The basis of that covenant—man’s mutable righteousness—was weak, and left the heart full of doubt and exposed to ruin.
By contrast, the covenant of grace is not based upon man’s will, effort, or cooperation. Though good works are indeed commanded under this covenant, they are not the cause of salvation, but its evidence; not the condition of righteousness, but the fruit of adoption. Even these works are not wrought by the believer in his own strength, but are the result of God’s inward working. As Watson writes, our obedience is not so much our own doing as the Spirit’s power: “It is God which worketh in you.” (Phil. 2:13)
Thus, any doctrine that bases salvation on man’s free will, moral striving, or conditional reception of an “offered” covenant—such as the teaching of John Preston and the Marrow men—returns man to the covenant of works. If belief itself is made the condition that activates grace, then grace is no longer grace. If man’s willingness initiates union with Christ, then Christ is no longer the covenant head, but a mere facilitator awaiting man’s consent.
Watson concludes with this warning: all who seek salvation by free will, inherent virtue, or conditional terms fall under the covenant of works and are in a perishing estate. The covenant of grace, by contrast, is a court of mercy—relief for the sinner cast down by the first covenant. Its terms are not, “Will you accept?” but, *“Believe and live”—*and even that belief is God’s gift, not man’s doing.
Thus, all the conditions of the covenant must be absolutely and wholly fulfilled by Christ. The covenant must therefore be made with Him—He is the true Adam who obeyed where we failed, and whose obedience is imputed to the elect for their comfort and salvation.
According to the Catechism: “The covenant of grace was made with Christ as the second Adam, and in him with all the elect as his seed” (§31, WLC)
To posit a conditional covenant made with the reprobate is a direct violation of covenant theology. Such a scheme places free will, human acceptance, and moral willingness at the heart of redemption—while Scripture and the Confession place Christ at its centre.
6. Scripture Testimony — Christ as Mediator and the Elect as Covenant-Seed
- Hebrews 7:22 describes Christ as “a surety of a better covenant”—He is the covenanting party, not man .
- Galatians 3:16 affirms that the promises were made to “the Seed”—Christ—not to “seeds,” with believers receiving them by union with Him.
- John 6:37–39 declares the Father giving His to Christ; Christ receiving all given; and none being lost—thus election defines the scope of redemption.
- Ephesians 1:4–5 locates election in Christ before the foundation of the world, demonstrating the Trinitarian unity of purpose.
- Romans 8:29–30 presents the golden chain: Foreknown—Predestined—Called—Justified—Glorified. Notice regeneration and perseverance are built into the covenant work—not handed off for human choice.
- John 17:9 affirms Christ prays only for *“those whom thou hast given me.”—*Intercession is particular, not universal.
7. Theological Consequences
- A conditional covenant makes God’s decree contingent on human action—it undermines God’s sovereignty and nullifies reprobation.
- It blurs the covenant distinction, collapsing works into grace and faith into merit.
- It ignores union with Christ, making faith an initiating act rather than a gift and fruit of grace.
- It fractures the Trinity, suggesting the Father and Son establish the covenant with weak, fallible, fallen, defiled man, rather than the Son as Mediator for the elect.
8. The Gospel according to Covenant theology
God sent Christ into the world to save sinners—His elect. In Christ, the covenant is fulfilled- both the demand of the covenant of works (for perfect obedience) and the gift of the covenant of grace (by His atoning death). Having purchased redemption, God the Spirit is sent to quicken, unite, and preserve those for whom Christ died.
This is not a conditional scheme, but a monergistic covenant—one entirely orchestrated by the God-head, in which man plays no initiating or contributing part.
III. Conclusion: The Gospel Is Not of Free Will, but of Grace
Fallen man, being dead in sin, is ignorant of the way of salvation. The gospel is hid from his eyes; and because salvation is by grace, man naturally supposes it to be by works. If God speak plainly, he mishears. If others affirm the truth, he will echo their words without understanding, and profess what he inwardly denies. He may say “grace,” but he means merit. He may speak of “Christ,” but trusts in himself. This is the vanity of the natural man.
Free will, then, is the centre and citadel of all false religion. It is the altar of Cain, the boast of the Pharisee, the god of Rome, and the lie of every unregenerate heart. It is the common tongue of apostasy: those who are strangers to grace ever fall back upon the will of man. As it is written, “The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God… neither can he know them” (1 Cor. 2:14); and again, “He hath made known unto us the mystery of his will” (Eph. 1:9). The regenerate alone are taught of God; “the Spirit teacheth us what is freely given to us of God” (1 Cor. 2:12). Robert Trail writes, “There is not a minister that deals seriously with the souls of men, that does not find an Arminian scheme of justification in every unrenewed heart. And is it not sadly to be bewailed that divines should plead that same cause that we daily find the devil pleading in the hearts of all natural men? And bewailed that instead of “casting down” (2 Cor. 10:4-5), they would be making defences for those “strongholds” which must either be levelled with the dust, or the rebel that holds them out must eternally perish?”
Hence, the doctrine of free will is not merely error—it is the enemy’s doctrine. It is not only openly preached in false churches, but secretly introduced into many that claim to be Reformed. It creeps in under the name of “prevenient grace,” or “common grace,” or “the free offer of the gospel”—as though God desires the salvation of those He has not appointed to life, and pleads in vain with the dead. But Scripture warns us: “Certain men crept in unawares… ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness” (Jude 4). These are the wolves in sheep’s clothing, who “spoil the flock” (Acts 20:29), teaching another gospel, which is not another, but a curse (Gal. 1:6–9).
Let us not be surprised, then, that Satan disguises his lies in religious dress. He did the same in the days of our Lord. The Pharisees were zealous, religious, and to many appeared orthodox in word, yet inwardly they were full of dead men’s bones. Christ said of them, “In vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men” (Matt. 15:9). So also today: the modern church is filled with the same spirit—clean on the outside, but corrupt within. Professing faith, they deny the gospel; claiming grace, they cling to their own will.
This then must be affirmed: if we are not saved by our works or our will, then to uphold either is to reject Christ. “If righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain” (Gal. 2:21). And again, “I do not frustrate the grace of God”. Those who defend free will have frustrated grace. They have another gospel, and it cannot save. “They being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God” (Rom. 10:3).
Let it be said plainly: those who affirm free will, whether openly or in disguise, deny Christ. And those who receive them as Christians, who bless what God has cursed, who extend the hand of fellowship to those who overthrow the gospel, are partakers in their evil deeds. “He that biddeth him God speed is partaker of his evil deeds” (2 John 11).
Thomas Watson writes, “There are many who would have peace, by the destroying of truth; peace with Arminian, Socinian, and other heretics. This is a peace of the devil’s making. Cursed be that peace which makes war with the Prince of peace.”
John Owen also says, “Neither let any deceive your wisdoms, by affirming that they are differences of an inferior nature that are at this day agitated between the Arminians and the orthodox divines of the reformed church. Be pleased but to cast an eye on the following instances, and you will find them hewing at the very root of Christianity. Consider seriously their denying of that fundamental article of original sin. Is this but a small escape in theology? — why, what need of the gospel, what need of Christ himself, if our nature be not guilty, depraved, corrupted? Neither are many of the rest of less importance. Surely these are not things as Austin speaks, — “about which we may differ without loss of peace or charity.” One church cannot wrap in her communion Austin and Pelagius, Calvin and Arminius. I have here only given you a taste, whereby you may judge of the rest of their fruit, — “mors in olla, mors in olla;” their doctrine of the final apostasy of the elect, of true believers, of a wavering hesitancy concerning our present grace and future glory, with divers others, I have wholly omitted: those I have produced are enough to make their abettors incapable of our church-communion. The sacred bond of peace compasseth only the unity of that Spirit; which leadeth into all truth. We must not offer the right hand of fellowship, but rather proclaim “a holy war,” to such enemies of God’s providence, Christ’s merit, and the powerful operation of the Holy Spirit. Neither let any object, that all the Arminians do not openly profess all these errors I have recounted.”
We say therefore with the authority of Scripture and the witness of the Reformation: free will is a lie. It is absolutely antithetical to the gospel. It is a breach in the wall of truth through which all heresy flows, and the soul is consumed by lies. It is the proud denial of the sovereign grace of God. And those who teach it, or tolerate it, are not Reformed. They are not Christian. They are apostate. They are outcasts. They are heretics. They are friends of the world and enemies of God. “If any man preach any other gospel… let him be accursed.” (Gal. 1:9)
But we will not yield. We have the Word of God, and the witness of the saints. We stand upon the faith once delivered. And in due time, we shall continue to prove, by the testimony of Scripture and the voice of the Reformers, that this alone is the Christian religion: that God saves, by grace alone, for Christ’s sake alone, through faith alone, without works, without free will, without human condition, without help or merit from man.
And so we will go on—teaching what is plainly revealed in the Word, rejecting what is not, and drawing the sword against every proud thought that exalts itself against the knowledge of God. “To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them” (Isa. 8:20).
Let God be true, and every man a liar.
Lessons from the Reformers:
Calvin in his sermons on Titus writes:
Titus 3:3–5
3 For we also were sometime without understanding, unbelieving, deceived, servers of divers lusts, and pleasures, living in spitefulness, and envy, hated, and hating one another.
4 But when the goodness and love of God our Savior towards men appeared: he saved us,
5 Not by the works of righteousness which we did, but according to his mercy by the washing of the new birth, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost, etc.
One might ask, did Paul live as a whoremonger or a drunkard, seeing that he speaks of being led by various lusts and desires? For when he mentions such things, he includes, in effect, the whole catalogue of sins to which men are prone, prior to being renewed by the Holy Spirit. And yet we know that Paul, even before his conversion, lived outwardly blameless. He conducted himself with such apparent holiness and integrity that men regarded him as a model of virtue—almost angelic in character.
Nevertheless, he confesses—sincerely, and without dissembling—that he was out of step, astray from true righteousness. We must therefore observe: when Holy Scripture speaks of the condition of the unregenerate, it sets forth a multitude of vices—not because each person is guilty of every sin, nor because all sins appear visibly in all men, but because the root of corruption lies in all. One man is enslaved to one vice, another to another; and thus there is not a single soul who does not, upon examination, find ample cause to lower his head in shame, acknowledging that nothing in him is free from defilement.
The chief part of rightly ordering a man’s life is to walk with integrity of heart. Therefore, although unbelievers may abstain from fornication, they do not do so out of fear of offending God—that is not the aim they have in view. Rather, it is God who restrains them, for reasons known to Himself, namely, that the whole human race should not descend into utter chaos. Yet even so, it does not follow that they deserve to be counted righteous.
Whatever appearances may be, even if unbelievers are not overtaken by every vice—indeed, even if many of them live orderly and respectable lives, and are well regarded among men—there nonetheless remains in their hearts a certain corruption which God condemns. Thus, from the highest to the lowest, all are ignorant of the truth. And in accordance with this, Saint Paul calls them unwise, wandering, and ignorant of what it truly means to serve God.
We must therefore take note: though Paul did not lead a scandalous life during the time he was an unbeliever and an enemy of the gospel, yet he was nonetheless carried along by many sinful desires and pleasures—as he himself confesses in Romans chapter 7. There he says that he thought himself righteous, and this was because he did not yet understand what the law meant when it said, “Thou shalt not covet.” Paul was satisfied with being well regarded outwardly, and with abstaining from visible crimes and reproachful acts. But in the meantime, he did not examine his own conscience to uncover the hidden sins within. Instead, he blinded himself through hypocrisy and was inflated with pride.
Behold, this is the foundation upon which he built his supposed righteousness. But once he came to understand that the law of God was not given merely to restrain outward behaviour, so that a man might be blameless before others, but to reform the heart and govern all thoughts and affections—that it requires a perfect and angelic righteousness—then he realized that all that had been in him was nothing but filth. And upon that realization, he freely and entirely renounced even the righteousness of the law that he had thought himself to possess.
For when he speaks of “the righteousness of the law,” he does not mean the true righteousness set forth by God’s law, but the counterfeit righteousness he imagined he had attained, and with which he had been falsely self-satisfied. It was necessary, then, for him to regard that righteousness as dung and filth—for without such humility, he could never have gained Christ.
Thus Paul rightly declares in this passage that, in the time of his unbelief, he was no different from all other men: sinful, ignorant, deceived, and led by various lusts.
No doubt, men are deeply assured of their own wisdom—but only because they have never truly come to know themselves. If we saw ourselves rightly, we would quickly learn to despise our own pride. But blinded by the delusions of self-love, we are altogether ignorant of our own vileness. Every man is so intoxicated with a love for himself that he is blinded by it, and fails to perceive the shame that clings to him.
Yet however we may flatter ourselves, here stands the verdict of the Holy Spirit—pronounced not upon a few, but upon the entire race of Adam. He has already declared what we are by nature, apart from the renewing work of God. And what are we? First of all, fools.
Men are rarely willing to accept this judgment, for they suppose themselves to be wise. Indeed, nothing so strongly hinders us from turning to God as the stubborn belief in our own understanding. We will not submit to be governed by His Word, but constantly dispute and raise objections, as though it were reasonable that God should keep silence or yield to us, as if the victory belonged to our judgment.
This vain conceit of wisdom is natural to all men. But what will it profit us, when the Holy Spirit has rendered His unchanging sentence: that we are all fools until God gives us light? It is true that we do not feel our foolishness—but what says the Scripture? That God knows the thoughts of the wise, and what does He declare concerning them? That they are vanity and lies.
And so there are two things we must observe in this passage. First, we must understand that if there is any trace of sound understanding in us, it is the peculiar gift of the Holy Spirit. We cannot claim credit for it except we be traitors against God—robbing Him of what belongs to Him alone.
If this be so, then what are we to make of the doctrine of free will, which the Papists so highly exalt? For when they speak of free will, they mean man’s natural reason—his supposed ability to choose what is good and to reject what is evil. But in contrast, here stands the testimony of God, declaring that until He has trained us in His school, we are all fools—even those who think themselves most wise.
Thus all presumptuous boasting is laid low, and men are compelled to acknowledge that, apart from the calling of God into His truth, they are altogether destitute of reason and wisdom.
And in this we must also take careful note: that there is no other way to walk rightly before God than to be entirely stripped of all our presumptions about ourselves. Why is this necessary? Because we are always assuming that we do well—while God declares us to be fools. Therefore, let us no longer deceive ourselves with what men call “devotion,” saying, “Well, to my mind, this seems right.” For even if we succeed in pleasing men, God will be no more satisfied with us for it.
This, I say, is the second lesson we must draw from this portion of the text: we must not place our trust in our own self-conceits, but rather order our steps according to the rule of God’s Word, fully persuaded that whatever seems noble, reasonable, or wise to us in our natural judgment will, in God’s eyes, be nothing but folly and lies.
Paul adds that all are disobedient—or at the very least, have been. Just as he declares all men to be fools, so he likewise calls them rebels, utterly condemning the natural man and showing that there is nothing in him but sheer wickedness. First, he is void of true understanding. And then, even if he could discern between good and evil, he would still be obstinate and malicious—walking entirely contrary to the path God sets before him.
Thus we are not only darkened in our reason, unable to perceive what is right, but we are also perverted in our affections, inclined to evil and opposed in heart to everything God commands.
What more then can be said? Let us now go and sing the praises of free will and self-made virtue—yet we see plainly that God rejects and condemns us in every respect, until He Himself has changed us.
It is true that this rebelliousness does not always appear outwardly. Men act the part of hypocrites and disguise themselves so skillfully that they may well receive the praise of the world—and even seem to themselves to be sincerely devout toward God. Yet in truth, they deceive themselves. For until they receive that new heart of which the prophets speak, all their seeming devotion is but self-deception. And indeed, what need would there be for God to give us a new heart, if the heart we already possess were good?
Therefore, let us acknowledge this: until God changes the heart and renews it entirely, there is in it nothing but utter corruption. This is how we must be humbled—beaten down in ourselves—and taught to seek the goodness which is rightly attributed to God alone, lest we nourish our vices through vain self-confidence and presumptuous pride.
St Paul adds succinctly that men are “led astray” or “deceived,” meaning they are blind and miserable until God sets them upon the path of salvation. And in declaring this, he aims to destroy all the empty imaginings of wisdom in which men boast. “What?” they say, “Am I to be condemned so harshly? I see no reason why!” But Paul responds that no matter how firm men are in their self-opinion, they are still condemned and rejected by God. Why? Because they are deceived.
This deception doubles their guilt—just as he previously called us all fools, he now shows our folly is even greater when we are unaware of it, and when we resist being convicted, so that we might be reformed.
Therefore, let all to whom God has been so gracious as to call them back to Himself understand this well: if there is any drop of goodness or virtue in them, it is not something they were born with, nor is it inherited from flesh and blood. It is a particular and sovereign gift of God alone.
As for the diversities of lusts and pleasures, let us take note that St Paul not only enumerates many lusts and pleasures, but declares them diverse. And why so? Because we are tossed and thrown about by passions that scarcely seem possible to exist together.
Take, for example, a man who is both a miser and a whoremonger, and at the same time a drunkard. How can such traits coexist? These are vices that war against one another. A man ruled by miserliness would nearly starve himself out of greed. He sees every morsel he eats as a loss, and if it were possible, he would gladly recover it from his own belly. Yet even so, if he is consumed with lust and the pursuit of harlots, he will spare no expense to gratify his vile appetites.
The same may be said of a man puffed up with vain ambition, or one enslaved to drunkenness, who plunges headlong into vice without the slightest concern for consequence—as mindless as a beast.
Do you see, then, that there are vices so opposed in their working that they appear no more compatible than fire and water? And yet, astonishingly, such contradictory evils are often found in the same person. This is precisely what St Paul intends to show: that each of us is not only ensnared by some single corruption, but also driven by conflicting lusts—passions at odds with one another, yet all united in rebellion against God. And still, they do not rest. They hurl us about, throwing the soul into confusion and frenzy.
Just as in a great storm the waves crash against one another with unrelenting fury, so too our lusts clash and boil within us.
And here we see what a dreadful misery it is—that the devil not only holds us captive, dragging us into all manner of evil, but even makes a mockery of us, toying with us as though we were apes—creatures without reason, without restraint, without honour. He does not merely lead us astray into folly, or set us at odds with one another, but fills us with such horrible confusion that we carry within our very souls and bodies the chaos of hell itself.
Therefore, when we sense in ourselves these inner turmoils—those vile desires clashing and raging within us—let us reflect soberly on the depth of our wretchedness, until God in His infinite mercy looks upon us and turns us back to Himself.
And let us not forget what has already been made plain: that the Apostle Paul is not speaking here of any one man in particular, but of the whole human race.
Commentary:
I. The Deceitfulness of Outward Morality
“And yet we know that Paul, even before his conversion, lived outwardly blameless. He conducted himself with such apparent holiness and integrity that men regarded him as a model of virtue—almost angelic in character..”
Calvin here exposes the common error: that upright conduct or public decency is equivalent to righteousness. Paul’s reputation for holiness, even among the most scrupulous observers of the law, did not save him, more than that, it did not prove that he was possessed of the smallest shred of true holiness. This strikes at the heart of the modern delusion—that civility and social customs are sufficient grounds to affirm someone as righteous, upright, not wholly inclined to all evil, or even regenerate. Yet Paul, though outwardly righteous, was inwardly corrupt. As Calvin notes, his blamelessness did not prevent him from confessing that “he had been out of step…and deceived with the rest.”
This supports our argument that many are received as Christian based merely on appearances and religious earnestness—contrary to the doctrine of total depravity and the necessity of supernatural regeneration. Romans 10 says that the religiously zealous are estranged from God insasmuch as they seek righteousness from elsewhere.
II. Universal Corruption in the Unregenerate
“Not that every man is wrapped in them, nor that they appear in all men, but… there is not anyone which hath not just cause to cast down his head.”
Calvin affirms the universality and totality of inward corruption. Though every sinner may not commit the same sins, all are equally corrupt in nature. “he that is guilty of one is guilty of all.” The apparent absence of certain vices is no evidence of spiritual life. This refutes the often-heard excuse: “Man is not as bad as he could be.” Calvin, and indeed Scripture, testify that every man is totally depraved and under condemnation apart from grace, even, yea especially when that corruption is veiled behind the mask of morality.
III. The Corruption Beneath Moral Appearances
Calvin affirms here that even when unbelievers live outwardly moral lives, their hearts remain corrupt. This supports the doctrine of total depravity: that man’s natural will is not neutral but hostile to God. Free will theology confuses outward restraint with inward righteousness. It is commonly stated in modern so-called Reformed circles that “man is not as bad as he could be,” as though the absence of outward atrocities proves the presence of inward restraint. This statement is offered as a hedge to total depravity, but in truth it is a betrayal of it. It rests not upon the doctrine of original sin, but upon the false foundation of free will. It supposes that man has the natural capacity to avoid evil, and therefore implies that some measure of moral goodness survives the Fall. But this is clean contrary to Scripture, to Calvin, and to the entire Reformed tradition.
The Word of God declares not merely that man’s actions are sinful, but that his heart is the seat of all wickedness. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” (Jer. 17:9). The issue, then, is not whether man outwardly murders or commits adultery, but that within him are the seeds of every iniquity, restrained only by God’s providence—not by the will of man. As Ecclesiastes declares, “Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil” (Eccl. 8:11). It is not that man refrains from evil out of conscience or virtue, but that he sins more boldly when judgment is delayed. The wickedness of man is not absent, but merely restrained. God, in His providence, holds back the full manifestation of human sin through governors, laws, parents, societal order, and education. These are chains laid upon the will of man—not cures, but cords of restraint.
Only a madman would claim that a man is good simply because he is prevented by force or fear from committing evil. The dog that is chained still longs to devour. The criminal in his cell is no saint. So also with fallen man: his nature is not changed because his hand is held back. Forceable restraint is not righteousness.
Moreover, the appearance of piety in the natural man is no evidence of grace. “He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law, even his prayer shall be abomination” (Prov. 28:9). The most devout act of an unregenerate man—his prayer—is abominable in God’s sight. Why? Because it proceeds not from a sanctified heart, but from self-righteousness, superstition, or hypocrisy. The same principle is affirmed in Isaiah: “All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags” (Isa. 64:6).
Calvin, commenting on such passages, teaches that the heart of man is so corrupt that even his best deeds are polluted. Outward restraint is no proof of inward virtue. Even when unbelievers live “well and orderly,” as he says, there remains in them a “certain corruptness which God condemneth.” This is not a minor blemish but a damning condition.
To say, then, that man “is not as bad as he could be,” as though he retained some moral ability in himself, is to deny the central truth of Reformed anthropology: that man, by nature, is dead in trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:1), without strength (Rom. 5:6), without understanding, without fear of God (Rom. 3:11–18). It is to set aside the doctrine of total depravity, and by implication to erode the necessity of sovereign grace, effectual calling, and monergistic salvation.
Such a statement may pass as charitable in modern theological discourse, but in truth it is an echo of Rome and a whisper of Arminius. It is not Reformed. It is not Christian. It is the subtle concession of Satan, who loves to be praised for good order, so long as Christ is not honoured as sole Redeemer.
Let us be clear: every man who denies the full corruption of the human heart denies the need for the gospel of grace. And every system that upholds free will must, necessarily, soften the Fall to make room for the will to act. But we will have none of it. “The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint” (Isa. 1:5). Salvation is not the improvement of the natural man, but the raising of the dead. And all who speak as though fallen man possesses some inherent moral strength, however slight, overthrow the doctrine of original sin, and with it the gospel itself.
IV. False Righteousness and the Deceit of Self-Satisfaction
Calvin also shows here that Paul, before his conversion, thought himself righteous because he had not committed open crimes. So too the man who clings to his free will, who measures himself by human standards and not by the law of God. Free will therefore is not only error—it is self-deception. A damning lie which drags men into the depths of hell.
V. The Law Exposes Hidden Sin and Crushes Self-Reliance
Calvin shows that when Paul truly understood the law, he saw that it demands perfect purity of heart. This awakening dismantled all confidence in the flesh. Likewise, the law silences the lie of free will, for it reveals that man cannot will what he does not love—and the natural man does not love God. The natural man flatters himself because he judges sin by its outward form. If he avoids public scandal, he imagines himself righteous. But the law of God does not merely govern the hand and the tongue—it pierces to the heart. It exposes the secret place of lust, envy, pride, and rebellion. As Paul discovered, the law does not commend the respectable sinner; it condemns him all the more.
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength” (Deut. 6:5). Here is the first and great commandment—not outward conformity, but inward devotion. Not partial, but entire. Love that is undivided, continual, and supreme. The law demands not only what we do, but why we do it—and whether we do it with all our being.
“Thou shalt not covet” (Ex. 20:17) proves this further. Covetousness is not a deed, but a desire. A sin that may never reach the hand, but which defiles the heart. Paul himself confesses, “I had not known sin, but by the law: for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet” (Rom. 7:7). He thought himself righteous, until he understood the inward reach of the law—and then, all hope in himself was lost.
The law also condemns not only particular violations, but any and every deviation from perfect obedience. “Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them” (Gal. 3:10, citing Deut. 27:26). The curse is not for gross sinners only, but for all who fail to continue, fully, in all things—in thought, in motive, in affection, in constancy. One breach is enough to damn. The law tolerates no imperfection. It demands nothing less than perfect, perpetual, personal obedience.
Here is where free will dies. For what man, since Adam, has loved God with all his heart? Who has continued in all things written in the law to do them? What natural man has ever loved the light, when his deeds were evil (John 3:19)? The law does not teach us how to improve—it teaches us that we are condemned. It shuts every mouth and silences every boast (Rom. 3:19).
The gospel is not an offer to try again. It is a declaration that Christ has fulfilled the law in our place. “Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth” (Rom. 10:4). But before that righteousness can be received, the self-righteousness of man must be destroyed. And it is the law that does the destroying.
“For the word of God is living, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in His sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.” (Heb. 4:12–13)
This Word lays bare the soul. It searches deeper than conscience, deeper than memory, deeper than any word man can speak. It reaches to the hidden motives, the proud thoughts, the secret idolatries—and utters a woeful condemnation upon them. There is no fig leaf that can cover you from its gaze. You may deceive men, but you will not deceive God.
Therefore fear, and tremble before the living God. “Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his maker?” (Job 4:17). “Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the Lord. Do not I fill heaven and earth?” (Jer. 23:24). “The Lord killeth, and maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up” (1 Sam. 2:6). He is not a God to be trifled with. He casts down the proud, and shows no favor to those who trust in themselves.
He is able to make your light darkness, and to turn your wisdom into folly. “Shall not his excellency make you afraid? and his dread fall upon you?” (Job 13:11). Fear Him who creates and destroys. Fear Him who sends the sword, the famine, and the pestilence (Jer. 14:12). Fear Him who has the power to cast both body and soul into hell. Yes, I say unto you, fear Him.
Let none deceive themselves. “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap” (Gal. 6:7). The time is short. Judgment is certain. Grace is sovereign. And Christ receives only the broken and contrite, not the boastful and self-assured.
“Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts” (Heb. 3:15). The Judge stands at the door.
VI. Humility is the Only Currency of Heaven—Free Will Bars the Way.
Until Paul counted all as dung, he could not possess Christ. Therefore, anyone who clings to his will, his choice, or his cooperation, has not yet understood his guilt. Free will is the antithesis of humility—yea, it is accursed pride masked in piety.
Thomas Watson writes, “Faith is a humble grace, it gives all to Christ; it is an adorer of free grace.” If faith be an adorer of free grace, what must be said concerning those rebels who deny free grace? It must be said they have no faith.
VII. False Charity and the Sin of Superficial Judgment.
Free will is not humility and calling those believers who deny Christ is not charity.
Rather it is a malicious-kindness that now prevails among the modern Calvinists—a so-called charity which refuses to examine the soundness of faith in others, lest it be deemed unloving. Thus, they say, “I see a profession of religion, I see zeal, I see works—they must be sincere! How uncharitable to say otherwise!” But this is not the judgment of Scripture. This is the gullibility of flesh.
They have become the very audience for whom the Arminian Pharisees perform. The free-willers offer testimonies, weep in public prayer, and display zeal in works—all to the amazement of the neo-Reformed. And these pretended Reformed leaders, failing to judge with righteous judgment, receive them as brethren. But the gospel nowhere teaches that men are saved by zeal, or by religious devotion, or by outward works done in the flesh. The gospel teaches that men are saved through faith—and that faith is not general, but particular, rooted in the truth. A faith that can be properlt defined. The Larger Catechism teaches, “Justifying faith is a saving grace, wrought in the heart of a sinner by the Spirit and word of God, whereby he, being convinced of his sin and misery, and of the disability in himself and all other creatures to recover him out of his lost condition, not only assenteth to the truth of the promise of the gospel, but receiveth and resteth upon Christ and his righteousness, therein held forth, for pardon of sin, and for the accepting and accounting of his person righteous in the sight of God for salvation. Anyone reading this and concluding that Arminian faith possesses these spiritual qualities is stark mad and under profound delusion. He is the devil’s puppet who cannot even grasp the simplest truth. “We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I believed, and therefore have I spoken; we also believe, and therefore speak…” (2 Cor. 4:13)
It will not do to say that they preach free will while they hope to preach grace. The scripture never once speaks of such inconstancy and double-mindedness in Christ’s ministers. But it does require true faith and condemn religious hypocrisy.
“He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life.” (John 3:36)
“the works of the flesh are manifest which are…heresies…and they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.” Gal. 19,20, 24)
“If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha.” (1 Cor. 16:22)
The prophets did not validate Israel’s idolatry—they condemned it. They did not say, “They worship at the temple, therefore they are God’s people.” They cried aloud: “This people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me” (Isa. 29:13). And again, “They are not all Israel, which are of Israel” (Rom. 9:6).
Paul himself before conversion had a form of godliness—he was zealous, learned, morally upright, and outwardly blameless—yet was an enemy of God. “Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away” (2 Tim. 3:5). And our Lord warned, “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves” (Matt. 7:15). He did not say wolves appear as wolves—but as sheep.
These are they who “creep in unawares” (Jude 4), who “privily shall bring in damnable heresies” (2 Pet. 2:1), who “loved the praise of men more than the praise of God” (John 12:43), and who “did their works to be seen of men” (Matt. 23:5). Yet they are received by the neo-Reformed church as brethren, simply because they have an appearance of religion and perform religious acts.
This is not charity. It is unbelief. It is disobedience to the Word of God, which commands: “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” (1 Thess. 5:21). And again, “Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God” (1 John 4:1). The judgment of charity is not blind. It discerns. It distinguishes. It tests every profession by the doctrine of Christ.
“Charity rejoices in the truth.”
The gospel is not a invitational, inclusive religion for those who appear devout. It is the narrow way, known only by those who are taught of God. And those who call men Christian who deny the truth of grace, or who embrace the gospel of free will, themselves participate in the same lie. They show that their faith is not rooted in truth, but in outward form. They are no better than Rome, who judges men saved by works of piety.
Let it be declared plainly: a man who holds to free will denies the gospel. And a man who receives such a one as a brother shares in that denial of Christ. For as it is written, “He that biddeth him Godspeed is partaker of his evil deeds” (2 John 11). To bid Godspeed to a heretic is not love—it is complicity. It is a denial of Christ masked in the language of Christian charity.
Are we justified by works, or by faith? “By the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight… Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law” (Rom. 3:20, 28). If justification is by faith, then those who seek to be justified by their free will, their cooperation, their spiritual striving, or their moral consent—are not justified. “Christ is become of no effect unto you, whosoever of you are justified by the law; ye are fallen from grace” (Gal. 5:4).
And if they are not justified, why should we speak of them as though they were? Why should we call regenerate those who deny the very doctrine by which men are made new? Why should we receive into the fellowship of Christ those who know not the righteousness of Christ? The answer is painfully plain: only those who are themselves not fully convinced of justification by grace alone will call Christians those who deny the grace of God.
The gospel is not a vague umbrella under which all religious language may dwell. It is an auhoritative declaration that sinners are justified apart from works, apart from will, apart from effort, by the sovereign grace of God through the righteousness of Christ alone. Whoever does not believe this gospel is not saved. Whoever denies this gospel is accursed. And whoever refuses to separate from those who so deny it proves himself a stranger to its power.
Let us then draw the line where God has drawn it. “If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha” (1 Cor. 16:22). Not all who speak well of Christ believe in Him. And not all who call themselves Christian are such. For as it is written, “They profess that they know God; but in works they deny him, being abominable, and disobedient” (Titus 1:16). And again, “Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven…” (Matt. 7:21).
Therefore, we do not count it unloving to draw the sword. It is our duty. It is our love to Christ and to His Church. And we say without hesitation: free will is a false gospel, and those who affirm it are not brethren but deceivers. And those who embrace deceivers are deceived themselves.
Martin Luther wrote, “But we protest that we desire nothing more than to be at unity with all men: so that they cleave unto the doctrine of faith entire and uncorrupt. If we cannot obtain this, in vain do they require charity of us. Accursed be that charity which is preserved through the loss of the doctrine of faith, to the which all things ought to give place, be it charity, an Apostle, or an angel from heaven, etc. Therefore, when they make this matter of so little account, they do sufficiently witness what store they set by the Word of God. Which if they did believe to be the Word of God, they would not so trifle with it, but would hold it in high honor, and without any disputing or doubting would put their faith in it, knowing that one word of God is all and all are one. Likewise they would know that one article [of doctrine] is all and all are one, so that if one is set aside, then by little and little all are lost: for they are joined the one to the other, and are bound up together as it were by one common bond. Let us suffer them therefore to extol charity and concord as much as they list: but on the other side, let us magnify the majesty of the Word and faith.”
Here Luther speaks as one with the prophets, the apostles, and the martyrs. He makes no truce with error. He exposes the idol of modern ecumenism, which demands peace without truth and love without doctrine. The world exalts “charity” above faith, as though God were pleased with unity while His truth lies in ruins. But what communion hath light with darkness? What fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness?
To give place to false doctrine under the guise of Christian love is not love at all—it is wicked betrayal. It is treason against Christ, who said, “Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words… of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed” (Mark 8:38). To decry doctrine for the sake of a counterfeit unity is to dethrone the Word, despise the Spirit, and contemn the true church of Christ.
Let Luther’s words be our standard: accursed be that charity which preserves itself through the loss of the doctrine of faith. One article denied is the breach of all. The doctrine of grace is not scattered or fragmented but a seamless garment; tear one thread, and the rest begin to unravel. This is precisely how the churches have fallen—by tolerating one error in the name of peace until peace has devoured all truth.
We do not separate from the Reformed denominations out of pride, nor do we divide the visible body of the Church for vainglory. We do so out of reverence for the Word of God, which suffers no compromise, and admits of no rival. For, as Luther declared, “when they make this matter of so little account, they do sufficiently witness what store they set by the Word of God.”
“Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away” (Matt. 24:35).
Let it be said with trembling: Better that all men perish in hell forever than that one word of Christ be slighted, diminished, or cast beneath the feet of men. The Word of God is not the servant of peace, but its Master; not the means to unity, but its measure. Whoever betrays the Word for the sake of charity has neither love for God nor man, but makes peace with the devil. Let them call the devil a Christian. But we will call them believers only who truly believe and exalt the word of God.
VIII. All False Religion Is Grounded in the Flesh
Every false religion begins in the flesh and ends in pride. Whether it be paganism, popery, moralism, or even a counterfeit Calvinism, all have this in common: they boast in the will of man. They may name the name of Christ, but their trust is not in Christ alone. They imagine themselves to be righteous, either because they have chosen well, or because they have improved their condition, or because they have not fallen as far as others. But all of this is vain.
The justified and saved do not boast in their works or in their free will. For such boasting is killed by the law. The law enters not to flatter man, but to expose him; not to awaken potential, but to slay pride. As it is written:
“Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God.” (Rom. 3:19)
The purpose of the law is to silence. It shuts every mouth, including the mouth that says, “I have chosen Christ,” or “I have not sinned as others.” When the law speaks, there is no reply—no excuse, no comparison, no appeal.
“Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? of works? Nay: but by the law of faith.” (Rom. 3:27)
Boasting is not merely discouraged—it is excluded. Faith destroys it, because faith rests not in the flesh but in the promise of God. And even that faith is not of ourselves, but “it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast.” (Eph. 2:8–9)
“That no flesh should glory in his presence.” (1 Cor. 1:29)
“He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.” (1 Cor. 1:31)This is not a lowering of confidence; it is its destruction. Paul utterly renounces his former righteousness, counting it “but dung” (v.8), not because it was imperfect by human measure, but because it was of the flesh—and all works that proceed from the flesh are condemned by the law as corrupt, defiled, and offensive in the sight of God. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh” (John 3:6), and “the flesh profiteth nothing” (John 6:63).
True faith glories in Christ alone. Any system that retains confidence in the flesh—however pious in appearance, or partial in degree—is already apostate in principle. It is not Reformed, it is not Pauline, and it is not Christian.
IX. The Gospel Destroys Boasting and Grounds All in Grace
Calvin makes clear that true righteousness must come from outside us. The entire Reformed faith rests here: that salvation is of the Lord. To preach grace and yet uphold free will is to pollute the holy covenant of God and overturn the gospel of free grace.
X. Regeneration Is the Only Escape from Self-Deception
Just as Paul remained ignorant until illuminated by the Spirit, so every man born of Adam must be born again. Only the regenerate truly know that free will is a lie, for only the Spirit reveals what is freely given us of God (1 Cor. 2:12).
XI. The Darkness of Natural Wisdom and the Heresy of Free Will.
“No doubt, men are deeply assured of their own wisdom—but only because they have never truly come to know themselves. If we saw ourselves rightly, we would quickly learn to despise our own pride. But blinded by the delusions of self-love, we are altogether ignorant of our own vileness…”—
Calvin establishes an essential truth of Reformed doctrine: that man, left to himself, not only strays from God but does so while convinced of his own uprightness. This false sense of wisdom is not mere ignorance, but rebellion cloaked in self-confidence. It is a spiritual condition rooted in pride, and its fruit is found most clearly in the doctrine of free will.
Free will theology is not merely a philosophical error, but the inevitable offspring of man’s darkened understanding. As Calvin observes:
“Yet however we may flatter ourselves, here stands the verdict of the Holy Spirit—pronounced not upon a few, but upon the entire race of Adam. He has already declared what we are by nature, apart from the renewing work of God. And what are we? First of all, fools.”
The natural man cannot accept the Word of God as it is. He is ever questioning God and demanding an answer from Him, as Calvin continues:
“We will not submit to be governed by His Word, but constantly dispute and raise objections, as though it were reasonable that God should keep silence or yield to us, as if the victory belonged to our judgment.”
This refusal to submit to Scripture is not grounded in reason but in pride. The unregenerate soul, though he may outwardly esteem the Bible, interprets it through the lens of his own corrupted will. And as long as that remains the case, even the gospel itself will be perverted into a doctrine of human power, ability, and contribution. Thus arises free will, the most religious form of rebellion. They pretend to defend moral activity while maintaining spiritual captivity. They preach freedom while remaining in bondage to their error.
William Tyndale, writing in the same spirit of truth, states:
“Now there is no other division or heresy in the world save man’s wisdom, and when man’s foolish wisdom interpreteth the scripture.”
Here Tyndale rightly identifies all false religion—particularly that which arises within Christendom—as stemming not from open rejection, but from the intrusion of man’s wisdom into the sacred text. The carnal mind, being enmity against God (Rom. 8:7), inevitably twists the Word until it affirms man’s worth, man’s ability, and man’s righteousness. Thus it cloaks pride in piety, and calls it grace.
But when a man is taught of God, when the Spirit opens the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf, the soul comes at last to see what the flesh will never see: that man is condemned in Adam, ruined in nature, incapable of doing good, and utterly dependent upon the mercy of the Almighty God. Calvin writes:
“What will it profit us, when the Holy Spirit has rendered His unchanging sentence: that we are all fools until God gives us light? It is true that we do not feel our foolishness—but what says the Scripture? That God knows the thoughts of the wise, and what does He declare concerning them? That they are vanity and lies.”
This divine sentence cuts through every theological compromise. It permits no accommodation with synergism, semi-Pelagianism, or the notion of “well-meaning offers” to those dead in sin. If all our thoughts—our wisest thoughts—are vanity and lies, then there is no room for free will in the plan of salvation. No room for cooperation. No room for man to “accept” what he cannot even understand (1 Cor. 2:14).
Therefore, it is not harsh, but charitable, to say plainly: a man who believes in free will has not yet been taught of God. And a church that tolerates such doctrine is a church in rebellion against God’s Word. It is built, not on the foundation of grace, but on the shifting sand of human pride. And great will be its fall.
XII. To Claim Any Praise Is Treason Against God
Calvin’s words are stark: “We cannot claim credit for it except we be traitors against God—robbing Him of what belongs to Him alone.” This is no gentle admonition. The faithful Reformer does not hesitate to use language of betrayal—treason, theft, rebellion—when addressing those who attribute even the smallest spark of spiritual wisdom or moral inclination to themselves. According to Calvin, to say “I believed,” “I turned,” or “I chose” apart from God’s sovereign operation (regeneration) is not simply erroneous—it is traitorous, for it steals glory from God and crowns the flesh.
There is no middle ground. Either salvation is of the Lord (Jonah 2:9), or it is of man. Either the Spirit alone gives understanding, or the sinner is enlightened by his own strength. The man who claims any portion of the credit for his salvation, says Calvin, is not merely confused—he is guilty of robbing God.
“Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory” (Psalm 115:1).
This quote serves as the bedrock of Reformed theology: Soli Deo Gloria—to God alone the glory. Therefore, the modern teaching that free will cooperates with grace is not a small theological error but a blasphemous affront to divine majesty. It is a rival gospel, and those who affirm it must be opposed and condemned in love and faithfulness to Jesus Christ. If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ and stand with us, let him be accursed.
XIII. Free Will: The Heart of Papism and the Antithesis of Grace.
Calvin continues: “What are we to make of the doctrine of free will, which the Papists so highly exalt?” He asks not for clarification but for condemnation. There is no equivocation in Calvin’s language—free will is not the mark of true religion, but the very poisoned heart of Rome’s heresy. It is Pelagian wine served anew in golden chalices, cloaked in tradition and ritual but unchanged in its blasphemy.
Free will is not an indifferent doctrine, nor a harmless error. According to Calvin, it is the very antithesis of grace. He ties it to Papism because they deny essential truth: that man is dead in sin and must be raised by the grace of God alone. Those today who smuggle free will into “Reformed” theology betray the Reformation itself. If free will be true, or those brothers who hold to it, then the Reformation was a mistake, and Rome not far from the kingdom of God. Truly, a devilish conspiracy is plotted in our churches today!
But Calvin will have none of it. The man who teaches free will has not profited in God’s school—he is a fool, he says, “even if he think himself wise.”
“They being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God” (Romans 10:3).
Thus Calvin aligns perfectly with Paul: to believe in free will is not merely to misunderstand the truth—it is to resist it. And those who resist the word of God shall be destroyed.
XIV. On the Madness of Trusting in Human Wisdom and the False Religion of Arminianism.
If, as the Scriptures declare, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov. 1:7), then any system of thought that begins from man’s natural wisdom is not only deficient—it is madness. For to fear the Lord is to regard Him rightly in all things, especially those things that pertain to His own worship, doctrine, and commandments. But the Arminian does not fear God. He does not submit to His word. He presumes upon his own reason, and thus builds a religion in defiance of divine revelation. And if the foundation be carnal, shall the superstructure be spiritual?
It is therefore no small error—but rather a deep and damnable heresy—to call Arminians Christians. For they trample the holy doctrine of God beneath their feet and replace it with an invention of their own heart, which they then crown as divine. And because they are yet in darkness and have not been taught of God, they do as the unregenerate always do: twist the Scriptures to their liking. They take verses such as John 3:16, Ezekiel 33:11, 2 Peter 3:9, and 1 Timothy 2:4—and though these texts, rightly understood, confirm election and divine sovereignty—they force them into a frame that fits their fallen assumptions, and separate them from the rest of divine truth. They treat Scripture as if it were confused material, condemning man’s works but approving of his free will!
But God’s word is not ambiguous. And the doctrine of sovereign grace is not the result of strained inference or isolated proof-texts. It arises from the main current of Scripture, clearly taught in the law and prophets, the gospels, and especially Isaiah 46:9–10, Proverbs 16:9, 21:1, Lamentations 3:37–38, Job 14:5, Ps. 33:10-11, Daniel 4, Romans 9, and Ephesians 1—whole chapters filled not with rash presumption, but carefully drawn argument; not with isolated occurance, but absolute and unequivocal declarations. These are the places where God silences all flesh, exalts His will, and humbles the creature to the dust.
What doctrine, indeed, is more contrary to human nature than repentance? And if repentance is contrary to us, then the doctrine that commands it must come not from man, but from heaven. As Calvin rightly teaches, man is full of self-conceit until the whole enterprise of his religious confidence is broken. Not bruised. Not wounded. But utterly destroyed. This is no minor reformation of attitude or morality (what the modern church calls repentance)—it is the death of man’s wisdom and the resurrection of divine truth in the heart. It is not enough to say, “I am a sinner,” or “I need Jesus.” For such words may proceed from a deceitful heart—yea, every cultist and blasphemer! But a man must believe the truth about himself as revealed in the Word of God—his original sin, his corrupt nature, his bondage, his condemnation—and that Christ is not merely a helper, but the sole remedy.
And what is this remedy? The doctrine of the gospel. As it is written, “Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God” (1 Pet. 1:23); “Receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls” (James 1:21); “To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them” (Isa. 8:20). If a man rejects the doctrine of Christ, he cannot be saved by it, because he has no true, saving knowledge of Christ. If he calls that doctrine untrue, or unnecessary, or secondary, then he has no true love for Christ. “If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be accursed.”
Therefore, we say boldly: the Arminian is no better than the heathen. He speaks of “Jesus,” but it is not the Jesus of Scripture. It is another, softer, weaker Christ—a facilitator of salvation, not a sovereign Saviour. A helper, perhaps; but not the Son of God. Theirs is not the Christ who “by himself purged our sins” (Heb. 1:3) or who “hath mercy on whom he will have mercy” (Rom. 9:15), or who said “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you” (John 15:16). No, their Christ is an invention of man’s darkened understanding, a fiction—a well-meaning assistant in the scheme of human merit. An approver of all blasphemy, contempt of God’s word, and rejection of the true Messiah. Their Christ accepts them because they do their best. But the scripture declares, “And if ye offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil? …offer it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? saith the Lord of hosts. And now, I pray you, beseech God that he may have mercy upon us: this hath been by your means: will he regard your persons? saith the LORD of hosts….I have no pleasure in you, saith the LORD of hosts, neither will I accept an offering at your hand.” (Mal. 1:8-10) and again, “But unto the wicked God saith, What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth? Seeing thou hatest instruction, and castest my words behind thee…” (Ps. 50:16-17)
There is no middle ground between divine enlightenment and spiritual darkness. The Holy Ghost is called the Spirit of truth (John 14:17), and do we suppose He writes uncertainties, errors, or contradictions upon the hearts of God’s people? God forbid. The Spirit writes eternal truth—truth that is sound, saving, and in perfect harmony and agreement with the rest of divine revelation. And thus, if we are born of the Spirit, then we will assuredly love the truth and hate all that contradicts it. We know the gospel not merely as a vague message of hope to get us through another day, but as the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth (Rom. 1:16)—and we are ready to defend it, earnestly, zealously.
Let us therefore as Calvin in this sermon, resist, with faith and courage, those who oppose the truth: whether the Arminians, who wave the banner of free will openly, or the neo-Calvinists, who bear it covertly—saluting false brethren as saints, applauding their works, and calling their doctrines minor errors. These men fear not God. They trifle with His Word. They are a reproach to the name of Christ. They preach another gospel.
Let us then cleave to the Word, and let no man’s reputation, good works, or personal testimony cause us to betray the truth of Christ. “If any man preach another gospel… let him be accursed” (Gal. 1:8–9).
What more then can be said?
“Now let us go and sing the praises of free will and self-made virtue—yet we see plainly that God rejects and condemns us in every respect, until He Himself has changed us.” — Calvin
What remains? Shall we lift our voices with the multitude and applaud man’s will, man’s worth, man’s works? Shall we rest in the judgment of others who, without understanding, call each other “justified,” “redeemed,” or adorn their vanities with the trappings of grace, writing glowing recommendations on their books full of heresy, tripe, and refuse? Many will write in their profiles or proclaim from their pulpits, “sinner saved by grace,” yet have never once truly believed what that phrase demands. They either deny grace through free will, or deny the fear of God through wilful breaking of the commandments. For until we are fully persuaded that we are altogether corrupt and undone—that the whole world lies in wickedness and in bondage to the devil on account of disobedience—we shall never cry out for true deliverance. We may seek relief from sorrow, guilt, or pain, but not from sin and false doctrine. And so long as sin and deceit is not hateful to us, Christ is not precious.
Christ is not a saviour of those who are well. He is no mere life-coach, no moral assistant, no comforter of the proud. He is a spiritual Saviour—delivering us from the true enemies of our soul: sin, death, the curse of the law, the power of the devil, and this present evil world (Gal. 1:4). This world, with its praise, its flattery, its false religion and self-exalting schemes, is the very enemy from which we are rescued. Its preachers are but men of this world—those from whom the Lord delivers His elect.
Let them therefore boast in self, magnify their freedom, and glorify their nature. We will not join them. We will remember the name of the LORD our God (Ps. 20:7). He alone makes the difference. He alone is worthy of praise. And if we boast, let it be in this: that He has had mercy on whom He would have mercy, and made us to differ (1 Cor. 4:7; Rom. 9:15–16). If there be a crown of glory placed on our heads, let it come from His hand alone.
Let the world call us proud. Let the false churches call us divisive. Let them say we are harsh or unloving. But we will not call darkness light. We will not call error truth. And we will not call the enemies of Christ His friends.
For what communion hath light with darkness? What fellowship hath Christ with Belial? What part hath he that believeth with an infidel? (2 Cor. 6:14–15)
Let this be our cry then—
Not unto us, O LORD, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth’s sake. (Ps. 115:1)
XV. The Deception of Hypocrites and the Necessity of Judgment
If, as Calvin plainly asserts, men are so blinded by self-love that they believe themselves devout when they are in fact reprobate, then we must conclude that hypocrisy is not merely possible but normative among the unregenerate—even among those who style themselves Christian, Reformed, or Calvinistic. Shall we suppose that the nature of man has changed? That the Pharisees of Christ’s day have vanished from the earth? On the contrary, as long as men share in Adam’s fallen nature, we should expect the same deceit, the same resistance to divine truth, and the same self-commendation. What were they called then? Hypocrites. Serpents. Children of hell (Matt. 23:33). Shall we now call them brethren because they have refined their vocabulary?
Calvin says they are deceived even in their assurance of God’s favour. That is no small delusion. These are not pagans openly resisting truth, but men who think themselves saints and men who others would swear are not only saints but the godliest of all men—who may preach, write, and discourse at length about “grace” while having never known it. This deception is both subjective (they deceive themselves) and societal (they deceive others, and are in turn deceived by them). The entire religious establishment may affirm their salvation. Their followers may praise them. But if the new heart is not given, all is vanity.
Let us then speak plainly: those who call themselves and others Christian but lack sound doctrine and godly fear are not to be received as brothers, but warned as hypocrites in need of true repentance. If their gospel is man-centred, synergistic, or founded upon experience rather than truth—then it is no gospel at all. They may boast of their years in ministry, their supposed encounters with God, their public preaching and influence. But none of this commends them to the Lord. On the contrary, Christ will say to many such as “prophesied in his name“, “Depart from me, ye that work iniquity” (Matt. 7:23). If they have not this sincerity which is doubtless required as necessary to enter the kingdom, let them find friends enough in hell, for that is where they come from and that is where they are going.
Shall we remain silent? Shall we excuse their heresy under the guise of charity? God forbid. It is the minister’s duty, and the Christian’s responsibility, to judge righteous judgment—not to condemn by appearance, but to discern the truth (John 7:24). For how shall we administer the balm of the gospel if we cannot first recognize the wound? If you cannot tell whether a man is lost, how can you call him to be saved?
The Scripture commands such judgment:
- “Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not” (Mal. 3:18).
- “By their fruits ye shall know them” (Matt. 7:16).
- “They which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God” (Gal. 5:21).
- “To the law and to the testimony: if they speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them” (Isa. 8:20).
Let us therefore not be moved by shallow testimony—“I’ve had a religious experience,” or “I’ve preached these doctrines for years.” God is not mocked. He sees the heart and weighs all things by His holy law. If the gospel has not overthrown your pride and made Christ your only boast, you are yet in darkness. Let all who defend or excuse false doctrine consider this: it is not for us to soften God’s Word, but to proclaim it without compromise. God will cast you into hell despite your best works, yea, because of them. Let the world rejoice in self, but we will remember the name of the Lord (Ps. 20:7).
XVI. Total Depravity and the Condemnation of Human Goodness
Total depravity does not mean that man possesses a small remnant of good. It means he possesses none. Not an inch. Not a grain. “There is none righteous, no, not one” (Rom. 3:10). The heart is “deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jer. 17:9). If there is a total absence of righteousness, then all that man does—every thought, deed, desire, even his most religious actions—is defiled by his nature.
Such is the condition of man, that God does not merely disdain, but abhors his religious pretences. What do we find in Jeremiah 7? In Ezekiel 20? In Matthew 23? God’s fiercest judgments are not reserved for murderers or tyrants alone, but for those who profess His name with outward zeal while their hearts remain dead. “Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me” (Isa. 1:13). “Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth” (v. 14).
So let us reason. If the works most applauded by men—their charities, their services, their sermons and offerings—are the very works that God hates most, what does this say of the world’s condition? Are we to conclude that it is under “common grace”? Or rather under common condemnation?
Let the word of God decide:
- “The whole world lieth in wickedness” (1 John 5:19).
- “The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men” (Rom. 1:18).
- “Thou hatest all workers of iniquity” (Ps. 5:5).
The world is not helped by its common gifts—it is deceived by them. Its virtues are its ruin. Its talents, its religion, its respectability—all fuel for judgment. The false doctrine of “common grace” is exposed as a lie from hell. And yet, do we mock the servants of God and say that men are only “partly” deceived? That Calvin spoke too strongly? That though men be lost, they still possess goodwill and sincerity? That there is hope in the Evangelical and Reformed churches?
Do you not hear the Scripture?
- “Narrow is the way, and few there be that find it” (Matt. 7:14).
- “Except the LORD of hosts had left unto us a very small remnant, we should have been as Sodom” (Isa. 1:9). Note: the Hebrew is emphatic—very small.
Isaiah was no obscure preacher. He ministered in the courts of kings. Yet even he did not flatter his generation. He did not mistake the crowd at the temple for the people of God. And what did he see? Not revival. Not hope in numbers. But apostasy—and a remnant.
How then do our modern prophets claim with such confidence to see the church thriving, growing, and filled with true believers? Is it not the very thing Calvin condemns—the “vain self-confidence” which soothes the soul with the sound of praise and blinds it to its enmity with God? Those who are asleep in their works are not friends of Christ. They are the loyal servants of Satan.
Let the honest reader judge: Is this not our age? Is not the nation under profound darkness? Is not the church under strong delusion? Do we not need the Spirit of God to tear down the false and build again from the ruins?
“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves…” (2 Chron. 7:14). Then, and only then, shall the Lord come again and revive His church among men.
XVII. Competing Vices and the Double Heart of Men.
Let it be plainly stated: many in the visible church say, “I am no drunkard,” yet they drink in the praise of men like the finest wine. They say, “I am no murderer,” yet they slay souls with flattery—saying to the ungodly, “Though your doctrine is aberrant, you are still my brother and need no repentance.” They say, “I am not a whoremonger,” yet they turn from the true Lord Jesus Christ to a false Christ of their own imagination—a powerless idol who justifies those whom God condemns. They say, “I am no thief,” and yet they steal the glory that belongs to God, claiming, “God gave me the opportunity, but I made use of it!” In all these things they reveal themselves not merely guilty, but doubly condemned: first for their sin, then for cloaking it in hypocrisy.
God will not endure such monsters in His sight. He will cast them from His presence.
They play the part of the Pharisee, saying, “I thank Thee, that I am not as other men are…”—as if what they consider lesser sin were some virtue. God will cast them into hell for their virtue. They imagine that the confession of partial depravity suffices before a holy God. As if it were enough to say, “I sin—but not as others do. I err—but not to the uttermost.” As though God had exaggerated when He declared, “The wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually” (Gen. 6:5).
But mark what precedes: “And God saw.”
God saw. Not man, who stumbles in pride and blind self-regard. Not modern theologians who soften the doctrine to accommodate sinners. Not institutions that flatter the unregenerate with tokens of inclusion. God saw.
He knew that man—being fallen—would contest His verdict. That he would measure sin by its public consequence, not its inward principle. That he would say, “Not all are murderers, not all are drunkards, therefore not all are totally depraved.” So the Spirit declares, without appeal and without ambiguity: “God saw.”
And what did He see?
Not merely external vices. Not merely acts of violence or scandal. He looked upon the thoughts—upon the hidden movements of the soul—and judged them altogether vain, self-deceived, and desperately wicked (Jer. 17:9). Man sees deeds; God sees nature. Man counts symptoms; God diagnoses the disease. But the publican, acknowledging his guilt and deserving of wrath, beat his breast and cried, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” Mark it well—there was no self-justifying comparison, no softening of guilt, no appeal to lesser fault. Only pure, sincere confession.
This is not a better confession—it is the only confession God accepts.
Fearless Puritan: 