Chapter 13

Why Keep Libertarian Freedom?

Where the Author Disagrees with His Closest Ally

The Question on the Table

The strongest universalist argument in print would, if it worked, make this whole book unnecessary. David Bentley Hart argues that every rational soul will be saved, not freely in the way we usually mean the word, but necessarily. A mind that truly sees God, Hart says, cannot turn away. If he is right, the case is closed before the jury sits down. We do not need probability, we do not need middle knowledge, we do not need a theory of time. We need only one premise: that a rational will, face-to-face with the Good, has no power to refuse it.1

I want the same conclusion Hart wants. I share his hope, share his conviction that the love of God will win, and I have learned more from his work than from almost any other living writer on this subject. But I cannot follow him here. And I want to explain why.

The price of Hart's argument is libertarian freedom: the real, two-way power to choose. If the rational will cannot refuse God, then when it says yes to God, that yes is not the kind of choice that could have gone the other way. It is more like a ball rolling downhill than a person stepping forward. Hart is happy to pay that price. He thinks our ordinary picture of freedom (the power to do otherwise) is confused, and that true freedom just is the movement toward God.2 I think that picture costs us something we cannot afford to lose.

This is the chapter where I part from my closest ally. And because the disagreement is honest, I want to state his case at its strongest before I answer it. The question is simple enough to say in one sentence: Does a person need the real power to say no in order for the yes to mean anything?

I think the answer is yes. And I am willing to pay the cost that follows. If freedom is real, then the bare logical possibility of a final refusal cannot be ruled out. My conclusion becomes a conviction, not a proof. As I argued in Chapter 2, that is honest, not weak. But it does mean I cannot claim what Hart claims. I can only claim something humbler: that the final salvation of all is by far the most reasonable thing to expect from the God revealed in Christ.3

So here is the plan for this chapter. First, I will lay out three views of human freedom in plain words. Then I will state Hart's argument at full strength and with real respect. Then I will show what it costs, and why the cost is too high. Then I will explain why Scripture and the gospel need real freedom. And finally, I will show that we can keep freedom and still reach the universalist conclusion, not by force, but by probability, love, and the infinite resourcefulness of God.

Why It Matters

This is not a side argument. This is the hinge on which the whole book turns.

If Hart is right that freedom and necessity are not enemies, then universalism is settled at the level of metaphysics. We need not argue about probability or appeal to God's knowledge of what each person would freely do. The will simply cannot refuse its own deepest desire, and God is that desire. Case closed.

But if libertarian freedom is real, then the case changes shape. We cannot say that salvation is necessary. We can only say it is overwhelmingly probable. We must build the rest of the argument the hard way: by showing that a perfectly loving, all-knowing God, with all the time eternity allows, can win every free heart without ever forcing one. That is what the rest of Part IV does (Chapter 14 through Chapter 18).4

The stakes go even further. The charge that universalism is just another form of determinism is one of the sharpest weapons the critics have. James De Young argues that Christian universalism is "more deterministic and coercive than Calvinism," because it insists that God will get everyone saved no matter what.5 If we give up libertarian freedom, we hand him that weapon. We confirm his charge. We turn the hope into a machine.

I do not want to hand him that weapon, because the charge is false. The universalism this book defends is not deterministic. It is the claim that a God of perfect love and perfect knowledge, working freely through persuasion, through the purifying fire of His own presence, and through the patient work of eternity, will bring every person to a free yes. That yes must be free, or it is not worth having. And that yes must be the kind that could have been a no, or freedom is an empty word.

There is a further reason this matters, and it touches the gospel itself. The whole of Scripture assumes that God calls, and that we can answer or refuse. "Choose this day whom you will serve" (Joshua 24:15). "Let the one who desires take the water of life freely" (Revelation 22:17, NKJV). If the yes were necessary, the call would be theater. The drama of salvation would be a script, not a story. And a script in which every actor must say the lines whether they want to or not is not a love story. It is a performance.6

So the question I face in this chapter is whether I can keep libertarian freedom and still hold the larger hope. My answer is yes. But I owe my reader the full argument for why I part from Hart, and I owe Hart a fair hearing before I disagree.

The Argument

Move 1: Three Views of Freedom

Before we can argue about freedom, we need to be clear about what the word means. There are three main positions in philosophy, and they sound harder than they are.

Plain Words: Three Views of Freedom

Hard determinism says you have no real freedom at all. Every thought and every choice is fixed by prior causes, the way a falling rock is fixed by gravity. You feel free, but you are not. Compatibilism (sometimes called "soft determinism") says you are free when you do what you want to do, even if what you want is itself determined by prior causes. You chose the coffee because you wanted it; the fact that your wanting was caused by your brain chemistry does not make the choice unfree. Libertarianism says freedom requires something stronger: a real, two-way power to choose. When you chose the coffee, you could have chosen the tea. The choice was up to you, not fixed in advance by anything outside you.

The first view, hard determinism, has an obvious problem for the Christian. If every human choice is fixed by prior causes, then sin is not our fault and repentance is not our doing. The fall was unavoidable. The call to choose is meaningless. Most Christians reject hard determinism, and I will not spend time on it here.7

The second view, compatibilism, is held by many thoughtful Christians, especially in the Reformed tradition. On this view, God can determine our choices and still hold us responsible for them, because the choices are done willingly. You chose the sin because you wanted to, even though God had ordained that you would want to. This is a serious position with a long history, and I do not dismiss it lightly.8

But I think it faces a deep problem. If your wants are themselves determined, then the sense in which you "could have done otherwise" is only imaginary. You would have done otherwise if you had wanted otherwise, but you could not have wanted otherwise. Timothy Stratton presses this point sharply: if determinism is true, then no one is in a position to know which of their beliefs are true and which are false, because every belief is the product of a causal chain that started before the thinker was born.9 As the philosopher John Searle puts it: "If the act is completely determined then rationality can make no difference."10

The third view, libertarianism, is the one this book keeps. In plain terms: libertarian freedom is the ability to choose in a way that is not fixed by prior causes.11 It does not mean that your choice comes from nowhere. It means that you, the agent, are the real source of the choice, and that outside forces, however strong, do not make the choice for you. Kenneth Keathley calls this "soft libertarianism": your character shapes the range of your options, but within that range, the choice is genuinely yours.12

This matters for salvation, because a freely chosen yes is a different thing from a determined yes. A love letter written at gunpoint is not a love letter. A vow spoken by a puppet is not a vow. If the universalist hope is to be warm and real, the yes that brings a person home must be the person's own.13

Move 2: Hart's Argument at Full Strength

Now let me give Hart his full say. He deserves it, and his argument is one of the finest in modern theology. I will state it as fairly as I can.

Hart's starting point is a classical one, rooted in the tradition of Plato, the Greek Fathers, and especially Maximus the Confessor. The will, Hart argues, does not float in a vacuum. It always moves toward what it sees as good. You never choose evil as evil. You choose it because you mistake it for something good, or because you see only part of the picture. Even the worst sinner is chasing something he thinks will satisfy him. His aim is wrong, but his desire is still aimed at the good, however distorted the aim has become.14

Hart on the Rational Will and the Good

Hart writes: "God remains forever the encompassing final object that motivates and makes actual every choice, the Good that makes the will free in the first place. Even an act of apostasy, then, traced back to its most primordial impulse, is motivated by the desire for God. Even the satanist can embrace evil only insofar as he thinks it will satisfy a desire for what is most agreeable to his own nature."15

David Bentley Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation

From this starting point, Hart draws a sharp conclusion. If the will always moves toward the good as it sees it, then what happens when the will sees perfectly? What happens when a person stands face-to-face with God, who is the Good itself? There is nothing left to mistake. There is no illusion to chase. The person sees exactly what will satisfy the deepest desire of the soul, and there is no rival that could compete. So the will moves to God the way your eyes move toward light. It cannot do otherwise. And if it cannot do otherwise, then the refusal of God is not a free choice but a symptom of blindness. Remove the blindness, and the refusal vanishes.16

Hart is fully aware that this sounds like determinism, and he does not flinch from it. He writes that this is indeed a kind of determinism, "but only at the transcendental level, and only because rational volition must be determinate to be anything at all."17 True freedom, for Hart, is not the power to do otherwise. It is the movement of the soul toward reality. A soul that refuses God is not exercising freedom; it is enslaved to confusion.

Hart draws on Maximus the Confessor's distinction between the "natural will" (Greek thelesis physike, the will's built-in movement toward God) and the "gnomic will" (Greek thelesis gnomike, the deliberating, choosing will that can err). The natural will, on Maximus's account, always aims at God. The gnomic will can stray, but only because of ignorance and sin. Once the ignorance is gone, so is the straying.18

This is a beautiful argument. And in one sense, I agree with much of it. I agree that we never choose evil as evil. I agree that every desire, at its root, is a desire for God even when the desirer does not know it. I agree that ignorance and deception are the fuel of sin. And I agree that the encounter with God will strip away ignorance as dawn strips away night.19

But I part from Hart on what follows.

Move 3: The Cost of Necessity

Hart's argument is powerful, but it buys universalism by spending freedom. And the bill comes due in three places.

First, there is the problem of the fall. If a rational will that truly sees the good cannot refuse it, then how did anyone ever refuse it? The angels were in the presence of God. Adam walked with God in the cool of the day. Yet they fell. If Hart's logic holds, the fall should have been impossible. But it was not.20

Hart has an answer: the fallen creatures did not see clearly. They were deceived. Their sight of the good was clouded. That is true, and I grant the point. But notice what has happened to the argument. Hart's necessity claim now depends on perfect sight. It says: "When the will sees perfectly, it cannot refuse." But in the actual history of the world, no creature except Christ has ever seen perfectly. So the necessity is not a fact about how the will works right now. It is a prediction about what the will would do in a situation that has never yet happened for any fallen creature. And a prediction is not a proof.21

The Argument in Brief

Hart's case: (1) The will always moves toward the good as it sees it. (2) Perfect sight of God removes every illusion. (3) So a will with perfect sight cannot refuse God. (4) So universal salvation is necessary. This book agrees with (1) and (2), doubts (3), and rejects (4). The move from "no reason to refuse" to "cannot refuse" requires spending libertarian freedom. I think the price is too high.

Second, there is the problem of Christ's impeccability. Hart presses this point himself: if Jesus, as a true human, could not have sinned, then the capacity to choose evil is not essential to human nature. But the tradition has long wrestled with just this question, and many theologians hold that Christ's human will was genuinely free to refuse, even though it never did. The absence of sin in Christ may reflect the perfection of His character, not the absence of the power to choose otherwise. The distinction between "would not" and "could not" matters enormously.22

Third, and most importantly, there is the nature of love. Love, by its very nature, must be freely given. A coerced declaration of love is no declaration at all. A God who saves by making refusal impossible is not a God who wins hearts; He is a God who programs outcomes. And that is not the God of the gospel. The God of Scripture knocks and waits. He calls and pleads. He woos and draws. He does not override.23

Now, Hart would object that he is not describing coercion. He would say that the movement of the will toward God is freedom, properly understood. I hear him. But I think the common sense of every lover stands against him. When we say that someone loves us freely, we do not mean that they had no other option. We mean they chose us when they could have walked away. That "could have" is what makes the love real.24

Move 4: Why Scripture Needs Real Freedom

The Bible does not treat the human will as a ball rolling downhill. It treats it as a person standing at a crossroads.

"I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live." (Deuteronomy 30:19)

This is not theater. Moses is not addressing automatons. The call assumes that the hearer can genuinely choose death. If death is not a real option, then "choose life" is an empty instruction, like telling a stone to fall downward.25

"Choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." (Joshua 24:15)

Joshua sets the options plainly. The people can choose God or the idols. The choice is real, or the speech is pointless.

"Let the one who desires take the water of life freely." (Revelation 22:17, NKJV)

Notice the word "freely." Not by compulsion. Not by necessity. By desire, and by choice. The closing invitation of the Bible is an offer, not a decree.26

The warnings of Scripture also assume real freedom. Jesus warns about the broad road that leads to destruction (Matthew 7:13). Paul warns the Galatians not to fall from grace (Galatians 5:4). Peter warns about false teachers who bring destruction on themselves (2 Peter 2:1). These warnings are meaningless if the warned cannot actually go the wrong way. A warning to a person who cannot disobey is not a warning. It is decoration.27

And the fall itself is the clearest proof. Whatever else we say about Adam and Eve, the story assumes that they were able to obey and chose not to. If Hart's metaphysics of the will is correct, and a rational nature oriented toward the good cannot refuse the good, then the fall was not a free act. It was a malfunction. And a malfunction is not a sin. The whole doctrine of human responsibility requires that the first sin was genuinely chosen, not mechanically produced.28

Freedom and the Fall

The same logic that makes heaven necessary makes the fall impossible. If a rational will cannot refuse God when it sees Him clearly, then no angel and no human ever had the power to rebel. But they did. This tells us that the will, however strongly it moves toward the good, retains a genuine power to refuse. That power is not a flaw. It is what makes obedience worth something.

I want to be clear about what I am not saying. I am not saying that Scripture teaches libertarian freedom by name. The Bible is not a philosophy textbook. But the Bible consistently presents human beings as agents who are called to choose, warned against choosing badly, and held responsible for their choices. That picture fits libertarianism far better than it fits any form of determinism.29

Move 5: Freedom Kept, Hope Intact

So where does this leave us? If we keep libertarian freedom, we give up Hart's necessity. We cannot say that universal salvation is certain the way a mathematical theorem is certain. But we do not lose the hope. We lose only the strongest version of the argument for it.

What we keep is a different and, I think, stronger case. It goes like this.

God is perfectly loving and perfectly wise. He knows every person He has made. He knows what each person would freely do in any situation (Chapter 14 will develop this). He has all the time eternity allows (Chapter 21). He meets each person in the purifying fire of His own presence (Chapter 12). He offers each person the most persuasive appeal a free creature could receive, fitted to that person's own heart, without coercion (Chapter 15). And the things that make us refuse God (ignorance, deception, woundedness) are exactly the things the encounter with God strips away (Chapter 17).30

Put all of this together, and the probability that any person would hold out forever is vanishingly small. Not zero. I will not pretend otherwise. But so small that a reasonable person can rest in the conviction that God will, in the end, bring everyone home.

This is the move the rest of Part IV builds. Freedom is real. God is resourceful. Time is unlimited. And the fuel of refusal is exactly what the fire burns away. You do not need Hart's necessity to get the universalist conclusion. You need love, knowledge, patience, and time. And those are exactly what the God of Scripture has in infinite supply.31

Reitan and Kronen make a similar point in God's Final Victory. They argue that freedom is genuinely mysterious. A free choice is not a random event, like a coin flip. It comes from a person, from that person's reasons and loves and character. And yet it is not determined by those reasons in a way that would make the agent a mere spectator. Freedom, they argue, is the capacity to act "for reasons without being causally necessitated by those reasons."32 A free choice can be shaped by reasons, influenced by love, and drawn by beauty, without being compelled by any of them. And this means that God can work powerfully through a person's own reasons and desires without bypassing the person's will.

Reitan and Kronen then press a further point that matters here. They call it "the core doctrine of libertarian freedom": whenever someone freely does something, it must be the case that the person could have done otherwise. If that is true, then whenever a person freely rejects God, there must be some real chance that the person would instead choose God. And a real chance, given enough chances, adds up. Over the endless chances that eternity provides, the probability of an eventual yes approaches certainty. The refusal is free. The chance is real. And time is unlimited.46

That is exactly what this book's case rests on. Not force. Not necessity. But persuasion so deep, and so perfectly fitted, and so endlessly patient, that it wins in the end. Not because the will has no choice, but because the choice, when fully informed and fully healed, runs toward God the way a child runs toward home.

Engagement with Specific Philosophers

Where do the major voices fall on this question?

Hart, as we have seen, rejects libertarian freedom in the traditional sense. He holds that the will is determined toward the good at the deepest level, and that what we call "the freedom to refuse" is really just a name for ignorance. His position is rooted in Maximus the Confessor, Gregory of Nyssa, and the classical Greek metaphysics of the Good. I have stated his case as strongly as I can, and I think he is right about much of it: the will does move toward the good, and ignorance does fuel refusal. Where I part from him is on the final step, the claim that this movement is so total that libertarian refusal is impossible.33

Thomas Talbott, the other great modern defender of universalism, occupies a fascinating middle ground. Talbott argues that once ignorance, deception, and bondage to desire are removed, "there can no longer be any motive for choosing eternal misery for oneself." He is right about the motives. But the absence of a motive for refusal is not the same as the absence of a power to refuse. A person with no motive to jump off a bridge still has legs.34

Where Talbott gets interesting is in what he does with this insight. He distinguishes between a correct and an incorrect claim that libertarians have made. The correct claim is that freedom and rationality could not exist in a fully deterministic universe. The incorrect claim, he argues, is that one acts freely only when it is psychologically possible to choose otherwise. Some of our freest actions, he argues, are precisely those where clarity of vision makes the alternative unthinkable. The loving mother who finds it psychologically impossible to abandon her child is not less free for that. She is more free. Eric Reitan has called this a third view of freedom, neither libertarian nor compatibilist, but "rational freedom." Talbott himself calls the idea "the integrated libertarian view" in his Understanding the Free-Will Controversy. The key is that randomness plays a diminishing role in our choices as our character forms and our sight clears.35

Andrew Hronich, in Once Loved, Always Loved, offers the most careful mapping of libertarian freedom in the universalist literature. He begins with the standard "power of contrary choice" and presses hard on its problems. The simple libertarian view says a choice is free only if the agent could have done otherwise at that moment. But Hronich, drawing on Walter Schultz's work, argues that the formation of a proximal intention takes time and is subliminal. During that formation, the converse is impossible. The power of contrary choice slips away at the very moment it is supposed to matter most.36

Then Hronich raises what he calls "the Problem of Jesus." If libertarian freedom requires the real capacity to reject God, then Christ, as truly human, must have had it. But as Hart points out, "the very thought that Christ might have turned from God, even as an abstract potential of his human nature, would make a nonsense of both Trinitarian and Christological doctrine." The principle of alternative possibilities strains against Christ's impeccability. Some theologians (Hronich cites Oliver Crisp) draw a line between Christ's sinlessness and His impeccability, but the tension remains.37

From here, Hronich maps the "species of libertarianism." The simple view (the power of contrary choice) is only one option. Harry Frankfurt's famous counterexamples show that moral responsibility may not require alternate possibilities. Robert Kane and James Sennett develop what Talbott calls the "integrated libertarian view," in which a freely formed character can then determine later choices. Eleonore Stump defends a "source libertarian view," where freedom means being the ultimate source of your action, even without the power to do otherwise.38

These distinctions matter because they lead Hronich to adopt a "rational" model of freedom. Drawing on Reitan and Kronen, he defines rational freedom as "the unhindered realization of a rational nature in the end that fulfills it as rational." On this view, all creatures are naturally ordered toward God, and once the impediments are removed, the will cannot finally refuse its own fulfillment. Hronich runs toward universal salvation as necessary. I take his distinctions seriously. They are among the best in the literature. But I do not follow him to the necessitarian finish. This book holds that even a will that sees God clearly retains a bare libertarian power to refuse, however irrational the refusal would be. That power is what makes the yes a gift, not a reflex.39

Reitan and Kronen, who stand behind much of Hronich's work, make the same point through a vivid thought experiment. They ask us to imagine Jenny, raised on an addictive drug she has been taught to believe is medicine. Her motives all push her to keep taking it, but the choice is not really free: addiction and false beliefs drive it. Then someone tells her the truth and breaks her addiction. Now she has every reason to refuse the drug and no reason to take it. Her choice to refuse is, they argue, "truly free," even though it is in a sense inevitable. What makes it free is that "reason is no longer impeded from playing the role it ought to play in decision making." They call this "rational freedom."48 I find their example helpful. It shows that the will can move toward the good with growing certainty without being forced. My only parting from them is the same parting I make from Hart: I hold that even at the point of fullest sight, a bare power to refuse remains. But I agree that the probability of using it shrinks toward nothing as the sight grows clear.

On the other side of the debate, Alvin Plantinga has offered the most famous defense of libertarian freedom in modern philosophy. In God, Freedom, and Evil, Plantinga argues that a world of free creatures is more valuable than a world of automatons, even if the free creatures sometimes choose wrongly. God allowed the risk of evil because freedom is worth it. Plantinga is not a universalist. He uses the free-will defense to justify hell, not to deny it. But his argument for the value of freedom is one I share. A world in which every person freely chooses God is more beautiful than a world in which every person is compelled to.40

Stratton takes the case for libertarian freedom further. He argues that libertarian freedom is not merely valuable; it is necessary for rationality itself. If your thoughts and beliefs are determined by prior causes, then you have no way to tell whether those causes led you to the truth or to error. You cannot rationally affirm anything, because every affirmation is just the output of a process you did not control. This is what he calls the "Free-Thinking Argument": determinism is self-defeating, because a determinist cannot rationally affirm determinism.41

Isn't Libertarian Freedom Just Randomness?

Hart and others press this objection: if a choice is not determined by the agent's character and reasons, then it is random, and a random choice has no moral value. The answer lies in what philosophers call agent causation. The agent, not chance, is the cause of the choice. The choice is up to the person, not up to a coin flip. It comes from who the person is, but it is not compelled by prior states in a way that removes the power to choose otherwise. This is admittedly a difficult idea, and the debate about it is ongoing. But the alternative (that all our choices are determined) faces far worse problems.42

Counter-Objections

Two objections press from opposite sides, and both deserve a fair answer.

Objection 1 (from Hart's side): "Your libertarian freedom is incoherent. An uncaused choice is random, not free, and randomness has no moral worth."

This is the sharpest version of the randomness objection, and I take it seriously. The worry is that if a choice is not determined by the person's reasons and character, then it is an accident. And an accident cannot ground moral responsibility any more than a determined act can.

The answer, as the callout above notes, is agent causation. The choice is not uncaused. It is caused by the agent, not by prior states acting on the agent. The person is the source, not a bystander to a process. This is the core of what libertarians mean by freedom. I grant that the concept of agent causation is hard to explain in the language of event-causation (where every effect traces to a prior cause in a chain). But that difficulty is a reason for humility, not a refutation. The experience of choosing freely is among the most basic things we know. We should be slow to deny it just because it resists a tidy causal story.43

And there is a further point. Even if libertarian freedom faces philosophical puzzles, the denial of libertarian freedom faces worse ones. As Stratton argues, determinism is self-defeating. A person who denies free will cannot rationally claim to have reasoned their way to that denial, because on their own view, the denial was fixed by causes they did not control. Hart's position avoids this problem by calling the movement toward God "true freedom." But that is a redefinition, not a solution. The ordinary person on the street, the ordinary reader of Scripture, and the ordinary lover all mean the same thing by freedom: the power to choose, where the choice could go either way.44

Objection 2 (from the critic's side): "If freedom can refuse forever, you have lost universalism."

This is the worry that haunts every non-necessitarian universalist. If the will is genuinely free, and if a free will can always say no, then how can you be confident that everyone will eventually say yes?

The answer is that can refuse is not the same as will refuse. A man who can jump off a bridge does not thereby jump. A person who has the power to refuse God does not thereby refuse. The question is not whether refusal is possible but whether it is likely to endure forever. And the argument of this book, developed across the next five chapters, is that it is not.45

Here is the short version. The things that make us refuse God are ignorance, self-deception, and woundedness. The encounter with God removes ignorance (we see Him as He is). His love exposes our self-deceptions. The long healing of judgment mends the wounds. What is left? A will that sees clearly, wants deeply, and has no remaining motive to refuse. Could it still refuse? In the bare logical sense, yes, because freedom means the power to do otherwise. But would it? I do not think so. And the rest of the argument in Part IV shows why.46

We will face this question head-on in Chapter 17. For now, the point is this: keeping freedom does not surrender the hope. It changes the shape of the argument from a proof to a conviction. And conviction, as Chapter 2 argued, is enough.

Conclusion and the Boundary

Let me gather the threads.

This chapter has done something unusual for a universalist book. It has spent most of its pages disagreeing with the strongest universalist argument in print. I have said that David Bentley Hart's case for the necessity of universal salvation, for all its brilliance, asks too high a price. It spends libertarian freedom. And a universalism that spends freedom loses the very thing that makes the hope beautiful: a God who wins hearts rather than programming outcomes.

The Hope, Not the Counterfeit

Hart is not a counterfeit universalist. He is fully orthodox: Trinitarian, creedal, a lover of the cross and the resurrection. His moral, linguistic, and patristic work is among the finest in modern theology, and this book uses it with deep gratitude. The author parts from Hart on one point only: the philosophy of freedom. Hart holds that universal salvation is metaphysically necessary, because a rational will cannot finally refuse God. This book holds that universal salvation is an overwhelming conviction, because a free will can always refuse in theory, but will not refuse in practice when met by a perfectly loving, all-knowing, endlessly patient God. That distinction is not a rejection of Hart. It is a choice to keep freedom, pay the cost in certainty, and build the case the slower, harder way. The necessitarian line is real, and the critics are right to press it. But it does not touch the hope this book defends.

So I keep libertarian freedom. And I accept the consequence: my conclusion is a conviction, not a proof. But it is a conviction grounded in the character of God, the structure of love, the depth of divine knowledge, and the patience of eternity. The rest of Part IV will show how those things, taken together, make the universalist hope not just possible but overwhelmingly reasonable, without ever overriding a single will.47

The argument runs like this. God knows what every person would freely do in any situation (Chapter 14). He offers each person the most fitting appeal, without coercion (Chapter 15). The hardest technical objection, that some people might refuse in every possible world, is answered by the patience of time and the force of probability (Chapter 16). The question of whether anyone could refuse forever is faced honestly and answered (Chapter 17). And the puzzle of how a free yes can be certain is resolved (Chapter 18). By the time the reader reaches the end of Part IV, the case will be built. Freedom will be intact. And the hope will stand.

I began this chapter by saying that the strongest universalist argument in print would make this whole book unnecessary, if it worked. I have argued that it does not work, not because Hart is wrong about God or about love, but because he is wrong about freedom. The will can say no. That is what makes the yes worth everything. And the God who made the will, and who knows it better than it knows itself, is more than able to win it. Freely. Patiently. In love.

Notes

1. David Bentley Hart, That All Shall Be Saved: Heaven, Hell, and Universal Salvation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2019). The argument is developed most fully in Hart's "Fourth Meditation: What Is Freedom? A Reflection on the Rational Will."

2. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation. Hart argues that "rational freedom" is the movement of the will toward the Good and that the common libertarian picture of freedom as "the power to do otherwise" is "logically incoherent and metaphysically confused."

3. On the distinction between conviction and necessity, and why the cumulative case is not a weak case, see Chapter 2.

4. Part IV (Chapters 13–18) develops the freedom-and-grace case in full: libertarian freedom (this chapter), middle knowledge (Ch. 14), optimal grace (Ch. 15), the transworld-depravity objection (Ch. 16), whether anyone could refuse God forever (Ch. 17), and how a free yes can be certain (Ch. 18).

5. James B. De Young, Exposing Universalism: Its Faulty Assumptions, Its Appeal to Emotion and Reason, and Its Biblical Refutation (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock / Resource Publications, 2018), 66, 217–19, 238–39. De Young writes under the heading "Universalism More Deterministic and Coercive Than Calvinism": "Universalism is more deterministic and coercive than any expression of evangelical belief, including Calvinism with its emphasis on divine election and predestination. Universalism decrees . . . that all must repent and come to faith, either before dying or after dying." He presses the point further at 238–39: "If the suffering of pain and torment in hell constrains the wicked to repent and believe, does this not amount to divine coercion? . . . Where in universalism is 'free will to choose' or personal responsibility?" De Young also argues that God "created human beings in his 'image and likeness' (Gen. 1:26–27), and such an image includes the will, the capacity to choose wrongly or sinfully, against God's preferred will. . . . God has willed that people have the capacity to will contrary to God's will." This chapter's answer: the universalism defended here is not coercive, because it keeps libertarian freedom and relies on persuasion, not force. But the charge is serious and deserves the honest reply this chapter and Chapter 15 offer.

6. The analogy of a love story versus a script is not original with me. It recurs in popular theology whenever the relationship between freedom and love is discussed. C. S. Lewis made a similar point in The Screwtape Letters (1942): God "cannot ravish. He can only woo."

7. For a fuller treatment of the three views, including hard determinism, see Appendix C.

8. Compatibilism has deep roots in the Reformed tradition. Jonathan Edwards's Freedom of the Will (1754) is its classic theological statement; contemporary defenders include D. A. Carson and John Feinberg. For a careful evangelical engagement, see Kenneth Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty: A Molinist Approach (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2010), ch. 4.

9. Timothy Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument," in Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism: A Biblical, Historical, Theological, and Philosophical Exploration, ed. Timothy Stratton and Jordan Hampton (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2024), ch. 13. Stratton argues that if determinism is true, then "Harris stands in no epistemic position to know which of his inferred metaphysical affirmations are true and which are false." The argument draws on Robert Lockie's work in epistemology.

10. John Searle, Rationality in Action (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2001), 202. Quoted in Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument."

11. Stratton defines libertarian freedom as "the ability to choose or act such that antecedent conditions are insufficient to causally determine or necessitate one's choice or action." Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument," in Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism. See also Richard Taylor, Metaphysics, 4th ed. (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1992), 51: "In the case of an action that is free, it must not only be such that it is caused by the agent who performs it, but also such that no antecedent conditions were sufficient for his performing just that action."

12. Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty, ch. 4. Keathley draws on Robert Kane, Hugh McCann, and Timothy O'Connor to construct a "soft libertarianism" in which "character determines the range of choices, rather than a specific choice itself."

13. The relationship between freedom and love is developed more fully in Chapter 4 and Chapter 7.

14. This idea has roots in Plato's Protagoras (358c–d) and in Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics (III.3). Thomas Aquinas formulated it as the principle that "no one acts intending evil" (Summa Theologiae I-II, q. 1, a. 1). Hart explicitly follows this tradition; see That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation.

15. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation.

16. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation. Hart writes elsewhere: "Not only is an eternal free rejection of God unlikely; it is a logically vacuous idea."

17. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation: "Of course it is a kind of determinism, but only at the transcendental level, and only because rational volition must be determinate to be anything at all."

18. On Maximus's distinction between the natural will (thelesis physike) and the gnomic will (thelesis gnomike), see Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation; Andrew Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, develops the same framework: the creature is "naturally ordered to things such as the good, the beautiful, and the true, the prime virtues which Christian theists have long identified with God Himself." This recalls Karl Barth's reminder that "God did not create a neutral creature, but his creature." Hunter Coates, Grace Abounds: A Holistic Case for Universal Salvation (2024), pursues the same point from an Eastern patristic perspective: "The gnomic will is the choosy will or will of deliberation. It is the will that we have as a result of our fallen nature as humans. . . . The natural will is the will that is always directed at the Good."

19. The encounter with God and the stripping away of ignorance is the core theme of Chapter 17.

20. This objection has been pressed by many critics of Hart's position. If it is metaphysically impossible for a rational will to refuse the Good, then the fall of angels and humans requires special explanation. Hart's answer (that the fall reflects imperfect sight, not genuinely free rejection) is consistent but narrows the scope of the necessity claim considerably.

21. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation. Hart's position entails that no creature in its current fallen state, seeing imperfectly, is subject to the necessity claim. The claim applies only to a will in the state of final, perfected beatific vision. That is a prediction about a future state, not a report on a present one.

22. The debate about Christ's impeccability is extensive. Hart argues in That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation, that Christ "could not have freely rejected the will of the Father" and that even "the very capacity to do so" would be a defect, not a power. Many Chalcedonian theologians, however, hold that Christ's human nature possessed genuine libertarian freedom to refuse, even though His divine person ensured that He would not. The distinction between "would not" and "could not" matters enormously. Andrew Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, section "The Problem of Jesus," develops this argument at length. Hronich cites Wolfhart Pannenberg's observation that the New Testament passages establishing Christ's sinlessness "do not offer a metaphysical theory about Christ's sinlessness that would establish whether it was inevitable that Christ would resist temptation, or not." See also Oliver Crisp's treatment of the sinlessness/impeccability distinction, cited by Hronich: Crisp concludes that "there is nothing about the nature of impeccability that precludes" genuine temptation.

23. The argument that love requires freedom is developed in Chapter 4 and Chapter 15. See also C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (1940), ch. 2: "If a thing is free to be good it is also free to be bad."

24. Keathley makes a similar point: "Possessing libertarian freedom means we genuinely choose." Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty, ch. 4.

25. Deuteronomy 30:19 (ESV). The call to "choose" presupposes the capacity for genuine choice. For a fuller treatment of the biblical data on human freedom, see Appendix C.

26. Revelation 22:17 (NKJV). The word "freely" here (Greek dorean, "as a gift, without cost") refers to the offer, not to the mechanism of the will. But the invitation's form ("let the one who desires") presupposes that the desire, and the response, are the hearer's own.

27. On the role of warnings in presupposing genuine freedom, see Thomas Talbott, The Inescapable Love of God, 2nd ed. (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2014), ch. 8. Talbott himself argues that warnings serve to prevent the warned outcome rather than to predict an irreversible one. This is compatible with both libertarian freedom and the universalist hope. Jerry Walls, Hell: The Logic of Damnation, agrees that libertarianism "poses distinctive problems for the doctrine of eternal hell" because "the question is: why would anyone choose to go to hell if he could do otherwise, if it were really 'up to him' to decide? The idea that anyone would, of his own accord, make such a choice seems ultimately to be unintelligible." Walls is not a universalist; represent his position accurately.

28. The argument that the fall requires genuine libertarian freedom is a standard move in free-will apologetics. See Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), 29–34. Plantinga's free-will defense holds that God could not have created free creatures who were guaranteed never to go wrong; the risk of sin is the necessary cost of genuine freedom.

29. For a fuller treatment of the biblical case for libertarian freedom, including passages from Paul, James, and the wisdom literature, see Appendix C and Stratton, Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism, ch. 14 ("A Biblical Case for Molinism").

30. Each of these claims is developed in its own chapter. The cumulative case is assembled in Chapter 29.

31. This is the core shape of the non-necessitarian case for universal salvation: not that freedom is an illusion, but that the God who made it can, through love, knowledge, and time, bring every free will home. The formal argument is assembled across Chapters 14–18.

32. Eric Reitan and John Kronen, God's Final Victory: A Comparative Philosophical Case for Universalism (London: Continuum/Bloomsbury, 2011), ch. 8, §8.5 ("The Mystery of Freedom"), 167–69. Reitan and Kronen argue that freedom is neither arbitrary randomness nor strict determinism; it is the capacity of a rational agent to act for reasons without being causally necessitated by those reasons. They press the point that even if we cannot fully explain how a free choice is made, the "need to affirm moral responsibility requires that we say of human choice that its ultimate efficient cause lies in the agent as such" (168). The fact that an exhaustive causal explanation may elude us does not license denying what moral experience tells us: that agents, not their motives and not randomness, bear the final weight of their choices.

33. Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation. On the distinction between what Hart gets right (the will's orientation toward the Good) and where this book parts from him (the impossibility of refusal), see Chapter 2.

34. Thomas Talbott, The Inescapable Love of God, 2nd ed. (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2014). The argument that the removal of ignorance, deception, and bondage to desire leaves no motive for refusal is developed throughout Talbott's book. See also "The Doctrine of Everlasting Punishment," 37: "As long as any ignorance, or deception, or bondage to desire remains, it is open to God to transform a sinner without interfering with human freedom; but once all ignorance and deception and bondage to desire is removed, so that a person is truly 'free' to choose, there can no longer be any motive for choosing eternal misery for oneself." The distinction between the absence of a motive and the absence of a power is the key to this book's non-necessitarian stance. The question is faced head-on in Chapter 17.

35. Eric Reitan calls Talbott's view a third option, neither strictly libertarian nor compatibilist, but "rational freedom." See Reitan, "A Guarantee of Universal Salvation?" Robin Parry summarizes the nuance well: "Talbott calls himself an unrepentant libertarian in that he sees indeterminism (and thus to some extent randomness) as essential to our emergence as free moral agents. However, he also wishes to identify an insight in compatibilism according to which moral freedom requires that we learn from our mistakes in a rational way that shapes our moral character and makes certain decisions psychologically impossible. Thus randomness plays an increasingly diminishing role in our free choices." Robin Parry (Gregory MacDonald), The Evangelical Universalist, 3rd ed. (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2024), fn. 52. For Talbott's fullest treatment, see Thomas Talbott, Understanding the Free-Will Controversy (2022), especially chs. 2–3. See also The Inescapable Love of God, 2nd ed., ch. 11 ("Freedom, Necessity, and the Right Kind of Compulsion"), where Talbott writes: "In fact, some of our freest actions, I shall now contend, are precisely those where, because of someone's clarity of vision, choosing to act otherwise would not even have been a psychological possibility."

36. Andrew Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved: The Logic of Apokatastasis (2023), ch. 2 ("Determined to Believe?"), section "The Power of Contrary Choice." Hronich draws on Walter J. Schultz, "'No-Risk' Libertarian Freedom," for the proximal-intention objection. Schultz argues that "every physical action must be preceded by proximal intention," that the formation of the proximal intention is subliminal and takes time, and that "once the formation of S's proximal intention to A begins, the formation cannot be interrupted by S, even though the action may be 'vetoed' after it has been initiated." Hronich's conclusion: "during the time a proximal intention is being formed, its converse is impossible." The power of contrary choice dissipates at the very moment it is most needed.

37. Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, section "The Problem of Jesus." Hronich follows Hart, That All Shall Be Saved, Fourth Meditation: "The very thought that Christ might have turned from God, even as an abstract potential of his human nature, would make a nonsense of both Trinitarian and Christological doctrine." On the sinlessness/impeccability distinction, Hronich cites Oliver Crisp, who concludes that "the arguments sometimes offered for the sinlessness view and against the impeccability view . . . are no grounds for thinking that an impeccable Christ may not be truly tempted." See also Millard Erickson, whom Hronich cites for the view that Christ possessed "the real possibility of sinning."

38. Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, section "Species of Libertarianism." On Frankfurt-style counterexamples to PAP, see Harry Frankfurt, "Alternate Possibilities and Moral Responsibility" (1969). On the integrated libertarian view, see Robert Kane, whose work Hronich engages: the source or ground (arche) of an action must be in the agent, not outside. Talbott calls this the "integrated libertarian view"; James F. Sennett found Kane's intuitions helpful in understanding how "a character that is libertarian freely chosen is the only kind of character that can determine compatibilist free choices." See Talbott, Understanding the Free Will Controversy, 15. On the source libertarian view, see Eleonore Stump, "Augustine and Free Will": "Someone who rejects compatibilism can maintain that it is possible for an agent to act with free will, indeterministically, when he could not have done otherwise."

39. Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, section "Defining Rational Freedom." The definition ("the unhindered realization of a rational nature in the end that fulfills it as rational") comes from Hart, "What Is a Truly Free Will?," Public Orthodoxy; Hronich draws on Reitan and Kronen, God's Final Victory, 130: "one has autonomy to the extent that one's free choices play the role that one has a legitimate claim on them playing in the determination of outcomes." Hronich concludes that a creature cannot finally reject God: "if one truly knew God, one would come to realize God as the end that satisfies all the creature's deepest longings. Thus, with perfect knowledge and perfect freedom, an eternal hell is rendered an impossibility." The author agrees with the premise but stops at conviction rather than necessity, keeping the bare power to refuse even when every reason to refuse has been removed.

40. Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974). Plantinga's free-will defense is discussed more fully in Chapter 16, where his concept of "transworld depravity" is also engaged. R. Zachary Manis, Sinners in the Presence of a Loving God: A New Way of Thinking about Hell (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022), develops a Freedom-Harm Principle on similar Plantingan foundations: the degree of moral freedom possessed by beings of a certain kind is proportionate to the degree of harm such beings can inflict. Manis is not a universalist; represent his position accurately.

41. Timothy Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument," in Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism: A Biblical, Historical, Theological, and Philosophical Exploration, ed. Timothy Stratton and Jordan Hampton (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2024), ch. 13. The argument's core: "If the forces and events of nature causally determine all humans . . . to infer and affirm some false metaphysical beliefs, then Harris stands in no epistemic position to know which of his inferred metaphysical affirmations are true and which are false."

42. On agent causation, see Timothy O'Connor, Persons and Causes: The Metaphysics of Free Will (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty, ch. 4, lists "agent causation" as a central tenet of soft libertarianism. Hronich, Once Loved, Always Loved, ch. 2, cites Stewart Goetz: "a choice is the exercising by an agent of his mental power to choose, where . . . the exercising of a mental power is essentially an uncaused event." Hronich acknowledges the difficulty, noting Ron Highfield's objection that "the idea of libertarian freedom implies the 'free agent' who enjoys it is an unmoved mover, a self-originating god." Reitan and Kronen engage the same issue in God's Final Victory, 161: agent causation "holds that agents cause their choices and so initiate a subsequent causal chain of events culminating in a human act; but this initiation of a causal sequence — undetermined by prior causes outside the agent — is not therefore unrelated to reasons for action." They draw a key distinction: "choosing at random is not the same as one's choice being a random event" (161). When an agent chooses at random, it is still the agent who chooses, not randomness that determines the outcome. The will's concurrence is what produces the choice; without it, neither reasons nor chance would generate action.

43. As the atheist philosopher Evan Fales concedes: "I personally happen to have views about freedom of the will which are libertarian. . . . I situate myself in a long tradition that tries most fundamentally to understand freedom of the will as a matter of having the capacity to exercise reason; rational choice." Quoted in Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument," in Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism.

44. On the self-defeating character of determinism, see Stratton, "The Free-Thinking Argument," as well as Greg Koukl: "The problem with this view is that without freedom, rationality would have no room to operate." Quoted in Stratton, Human Freedom, Divine Knowledge, and Mere Molinism. Jerry Walls makes a complementary argument in Hell: The Logic of Damnation: the ability to deceive ourselves may be an essential component of moral freedom, and "there is a limit to what freedom can tolerate" under pressure. Walls is not a universalist; his concern is that God cannot always remove self-imposed deception without interfering with freedom. This book's response is developed in Chapter 15 and Chapter 17.

45. The distinction between possibility and probability is central to the book's case. See Chapter 2 (conviction vs. necessity) and Chapter 17 (the rationality of final rejection). Parry (MacDonald), The Evangelical Universalist, 3rd ed., puts the point well: "one cannot freely choose a life apart from God unless God permits one to experience the very life that one has freely chosen to live." If God respects freedom, "they will learn the true meaning of separation and will in the end choose to embrace him."

46. The full argument for why refusal does not endure is in Chapter 17. The probabilistic form using the infinite-opportunity reasoning of Reitan and Kronen is in Chapter 16. The cumulative weighing is in Chapter 29. Reitan and Kronen argue that "any explanation for choosing to act contrary to one's settled best judgment, when one is not in bondage to a non-rational affective state, amounts to . . . empty explanation. If no ignorance, deception or bondage to desire explains the choice to reject God, then such a choice must remain inexplicable." Reitan and Kronen, God's Final Victory, 155. Their "core doctrine of libertarian freedom" (169) holds that whenever someone freely does something, it must be the case that the person could have done otherwise. If so, the probability that anyone will freely choose God at any given opportunity must be a real number, not zero. Over an infinite series of opportunities, the cumulative probability approaches certainty (169–70).

47. This is the book's core case, developed across Chapters 13–18 and weighed in Chapter 29.

48. Reitan and Kronen, God's Final Victory, 153–55. The Jenny thought experiment is their adaptation of a scenario also discussed in Thomas Talbott's work. Reitan and Kronen's conclusion: "the best label for this conception of freedom is 'rational freedom'; and, given Aquinas's emphasis on the will's natural ordering to follow reason, we think such 'rational freedom' best captures the Thomistic view" (155). The thought experiment also illustrates the progressive nature of freedom: Jenny's freedom grows as her impediments are removed, rather than being destroyed by their removal. This mirrors the book's model of what happens in the encounter with God: as ignorance, deception, and bondage to desire are stripped away, the person becomes more free, not less. The key question is whether, once fully free in this rational sense, the person retains a bare libertarian power to refuse. This book holds that she does.