Suppose that salvation is dancing to God’s beautiful music. God graciously places us in a room with two loudspeakers and begins to play his music. Surprisingly, we rebel, cup our hands over our ears and begin to sing our own songs to ourselves, dancing to our own music (representing the fall and our on-going sin). God graciously does not give up on us, however. He graciously turns the music up louder, but we continue to rebel by covering our ears harder and singing louder. He turns it up louder and louder, but we persist in our rebellion.
God then graciously puts two more speakers in the room playing them at full volume, and when that fails, he puts in ten more, and then a hundred more, and so on until the room is wall-to-wall speakers, playing at full blast. Incredibly, all these gracious overtures just make us resist more forcefully.
Yet, God continues to desperately want us to dance to his beautiful music, so in the most remarkable act of grace imaginable, and at great sacrifice to himself (representing the Incarnation and death of Christ), God himself comes into the room and begins to personally do everything possible to get us to lower our arms and dance to his music. Weeping and pleading, he himself pulls at our arms to lower them from our ears. We all resist…but finally, his relentless love wears some of us out. We begin to hear the music. We see his relentless love.
And we begin to dance.
This is an analogy, of course, and so it only imperfectly reflects the way in which God saves us. But it’s helpful in getting at the question we’re presently wrestling with. Would any of those who were finally won over to God’s music be inclined to credit themselves for their dancing? After all their rebellion and all God’s grace, would anyone attribute their dancing to their innate intelligence or goodness? Would they not rather testify that the only reason they eventually danced to God’s music was because God was relentless in his grace and wore them out with his love? Would they not say that they’re dancing was 100% God’s doing? I don’t see how it could be otherwise. And yet, as strong and relentless as God was toward toward them, he did not coerce them.
This view is not without its mystery, but it’s not the mystery of why God would irresistibly choose some when he could have just as easily irresistible chosen all (while telling us he wants all to be saved). The mystery in this view is how anyone could, and why anyone would, continue in their rebellion. This is the unfathomable mystery of iniquity.
Whatever I make of this mystery, it seems more biblical and less problematic than the mystery of a selectively saving God. And the last thing it would ever do is make me feel self-righteous for being set free from its dominion.
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