humanity's evil required the existence of an evil god. He defends

humanity's evil required the existence of an evil god. He defends

faith. In any case, they don't offer any substantial argument against our understanding of the will's bondage in sin.

3. Tertullian – Tertullian, often quoted by Pighius, is speaking against Marcion, a heretic who claimed that human evil originated with God. In defending the goodness of God's creation, Tertullian argues that humanity was originally created good and with free will. His defense is aimed at affirming the goodness of human nature at creation, not denying the corruption of the will that came with sin. Tertullian's arguments do not apply to humanity's current, fallen state.

4. Irenaeus – Irenaeus argues against heretics who claimed that humanity's evil required the existence of an evil god. He defends that humanity was created good, with the capacity for both good and evil, emphasizing that this capacity existed before the fall. Irenaeus explains that while man was created rational and in control of himself, he fell and became like a beast, enslaved to earthly desires. This aligns with our teaching that humanity's original freedom was lost through Adam's sin and must now be renewed by the Holy Spirit.

In sum, the early Fathers did affirm free choice—but they did so in the context of humanity's original, unfallen state. After the fall, the will is no longer free in the same sense; it is bound by sin. This distinction is crucial, and it aligns with our belief that while humans act willingly, they are enslaved by sinful desires unless renewed by God's Spirit.

I present Pighius with two choices regarding Irenaeus's writings on human nature. Either Irenaeus was unaware of the inherited corruption passed down from Adam, or he simply chose not to address it because it was irrelevant to his argument against heretics

like Cerdo and Valentinus. If Irenaeus was speaking only of human nature as it existed before the fall, then this does not challenge my position, for I regard humanity's bondage to sin as the tragic result of the fall, not as part of humanity's original nature. But if, indeed, Irenaeus were teaching that humanity's nature remained unspoiled, he would find himself at odds with the universal understanding of the church regarding our sinful condition.

As for Cyprian, Pighius appeals to Augustine, who claims that Cyprian does not deny free choice. Yet I clarify that Cyprian, far from attributing goodness or uprightness to human capacity, attributes it entirely to God. According to Cyprian, any righteousness found in a person's life flows wholly from the grace of God, not from any independent power within the human will. Cyprian did not believe humans could choose righteousness on their own; rather, left to themselves, people would inevitably fall into sin and come under Satan's dominion. Cyprian's teaching places the entirety of righteous living in the hands of God, not in human effort. For Cyprian, even the ability to resist temptation depends solely on humble reliance upon God's grace, not on any supposed human strength or freedom.

Both Irenaeus and Cyprian support the view that humans, in their fallen state, are utterly dependent on God's grace for any good, and that apart from this grace, human choice is bound by sin.

I approach Hilary's writings and find that in his first passage he speaks of human nature without any mention of its corruption. I have two responses to this: either Hilary did not intend to deny the sinful corruption inherited from Adam, or, if he did deny it, he stands in opposition to the clear and settled teaching of the church. His aim here seems only to call men back to their origins, that they might see their sins as stemming from their own wills, without

placing blame on God. This intention, however, lacks any discussion of the ruinous effects of the fall or the necessary restoration by God's grace. Let Hilary defend his strategy as he may—I am content to show that his words do not oppose us as Pighius claims.

When Hilary sets human choice against necessity, he speaks of necessity not as the miserable condition in which man finds himself because of sin, but rather as an external force compelling a person. This is a crucial distinction. In another passage, Hilary acknowledges that apart from God's grace, human effort can achieve nothing. He rightly notes that throughout life, God grants us the space to seek and thank Him—a time that ends with death.

In a third passage, however, Hilary divides the credit for good works between God and man, assigning to man the turning of his heart to obey God's law. This he does, not because he denies God's sovereignty in sanctification, but because he wishes to silence those who would excuse themselves by appealing to the weakness of their flesh. In attempting to close any door to idleness, he goes so far as to claim that God's grace works in us in such a way that we must still add something ourselves. Hilary claims that if one falls, it is entirely due to his own idleness and neglect.

I anticipated this very argument in my Institutes, noting that the early fathers sometimes over-emphasized human ability for two reasons: first, to avoid derision from philosophers who saw any doctrine of human impotence as absurd; second, to prevent their teachings from being used as an excuse for laziness. Thus, the fathers sought to balance Scripture with prevailing philosophies to gain a hearing, while also urging men to seek God earnestly rather than relax in self-pity over their sinful nature.

Pighius attacks me as if I had misrepresented the fathers, but I openly admitted that some of them, including Hilary, attributed a degree of power to human free will. I did not deny this; rather, I cautioned readers that the early fathers were often obscure, inconsistent, or too eager to compromise. Therefore, their views on free will cannot provide any certain or consistent foundation for doctrine. Let it be seen that the fathers' writings, while useful, must be read carefully, with the understanding that their full clarity on human will and divine grace was sometimes clouded by the philosophies of their day.

In the first passage from Basil that Pighius cites, Basil describes human nature as it was originally created by God, emphasizing that sin was not part of humanity's original substance but entered through human choice. This was to prevent people from blaming God for their sins—a point with which we fully agree. Basil then says, "Virtue is voluntary, not forced, and free choice is within us." Pighius takes this as proof of his argument, but I say these words reflect humanity's state at creation, not our present fallen condition. Basil is describing the original nature of man, free from corruption; he does not address the damage sin later inflicted on that nature. When Basil does speak on the origin of evil, he simply states that it comes from the will, not from any necessity imposed by God.

Does this mean Basil overlooked the devastation sin brought upon human nature? Not at all. In another place, he clearly recognizes humanity's fallen state: "Salvation is needed by the weak and deliverance by those held captive." Here, Basil portrays humanity as helpless and enslaved, needing rescue that can only come from God. This acknowledgment of weakness and bondage shows how far humanity's condition has declined from its original state of freedom.

Pighius responds by claiming that even in this state of bondage, Basil still leaves room for free choice. But let us examine what Basil actually says. Basil warns that those who lack knowledge of God wrongly believe they can resist sin through their own will, when true deliverance comes only through the power of the cross. Basil explains that free choice in humanity only allows one to make the judgment to resist evil, but it has no real power on its own to overcome sinful passions. Without the intervention of a greater power—that is, God's saving help—all human effort is futile.

Thus, while Basil does speak of free choice, he limits its effectiveness in our fallen state, emphasizing that we lack the strength to resist sin without divine aid. Although he does not fully describe the bondage of human will here, it is evident that he acknowledges the severe limitations of free choice after the fall, highlighting our need for God's redeeming power.

In the second passage Pighius references, I find nothing that contradicts our beliefs. Here, Basil simply teaches that the rational part of the soul is under our control. But he's talking about the soul in its pure, original state. When defining the soul ourselves, we start by explaining its parts: the mind and the will. We teach that the mind is meant to lead the will and give it direction, just as the will should be attentive to reason. When everything functions correctly, reason guides the will in the right path and holds the bodily desires in check, like a charioteer managing wild horses. However, we also show that, due to sin, our reason is spiritually blind and unable to rule rightly unless it submits fully to God's Spirit.

We also affirm that, as a result of sin, the desires of the flesh have taken over in humans, exerting a kind of tyrannical control that the soul cannot resist on its own. The will is so deeply corrupted and

filled with evil that it can't pursue anything good or devote itself to righteousness without God's intervention.

Regarding the passages Pighius cites from Jerome, I agree that Jerome speaks of free choice. Jerome acknowledges that we are endowed with choice and live not under compulsion, but by our own consent. But even if Jerome emphasizes free choice, it does not give us a complete picture. I would argue (and this is true) that human freedom was wounded and practically extinguished when we fell into sin and came under Satan's power.

If Jerome doesn't explain how free choice was damaged by Adam's fall, what the faithful recover through God's grace, or how corrupt and opposed to God's righteousness our nature is—then we are left without the full story. Jerome is silent on these crucial matters: the extent of sin's impact on the will, the renewal of choice by the Spirit, and the Spirit's role in enlightening the mind and directing the heart. Without addressing these aspects, his teachings on free choice remain incomplete.

Pighius should have thought twice before using Ambrose's words to argue for free choice, or he should have used Ambrose's own words in a more fitting context. What does Ambrose actually say? "The devil buys only those who voluntarily submit as his slaves; he holds no one in the yoke of slavery unless that person first sells himself through sin. Why blame the weakness of the flesh? Desire is where the fault lies; the flesh merely follows the will. So, let us not willingly sell ourselves, for it is only by our will that we fall into slavery."

Ambrose's point is clear: he is addressing people who try to excuse their sins by blaming their "weak flesh." But when Ambrose refers to "flesh," he's really talking about the bodily desires that serve the will, not a separate force controlling us. If someone shifts blame for their

wrong actions onto the flesh, it is only right to remind them that the root of evil lies in their own will, not in some external weakness.

If Pighius thinks he can use this statement to prove the actual power of free choice, he is reaching far beyond what Ambrose meant.

Now, Pighius argues that anything we call "voluntary" must be entirely within our control, not subject to any form of necessity. But Ambrose himself shows a different understanding on this very topic. On the same page Pighius quotes, Ambrose reflects on the purpose of the law, saying, "The law brought chains, not freedom; it revealed sins but did not forgive them. Yet this helped me—I began to see what I once denied." He also says, "It benefits me that we are not justified by the works of the law, for I have nothing to boast about in my own works, so I will boast only in Christ."

These words of Ambrose point to the reality that, left to ourselves, we are under the necessity to sin. This necessity is not coercion but the state of our fallen nature, from which we cannot free ourselves without God's intervention. If anything, Ambrose's words confirm our need for God's grace, showing that even our will is powerless to accomplish righteousness on its own.

Here, Augustine himself strengthens my case by offering three clear statements that reveal Ambrose's true views—views that are entirely different from what Pighius claims.

First, in Flight from the World, Ambrose urges us to seek God's help, affirming plainly that our hearts and thoughts are not entirely within our control. Second, when commenting on the Gospel of Luke, he writes that our ability to recognize what is good is not simply a product of our own will; it is something granted by Christ. Christ not only shows us what is good but also shapes our hearts so that we

desire what is good. Thus, if someone believes, it's because God enabled that faith within them, as "the will is prepared by God." Faith itself is a gracious gift of God, who receives all the glory for what his saints believe and do. Third, Ambrose affirms, "He whom God calls, he makes godly," clearly stating that it is God who both calls and enables faithfulness in his people. From these words, Augustine rightly concludes that Ambrose assigns the start and continuation of faith, good works, thoughts, and desires entirely to God, leaving no credit to human effort. If anyone doubts this, they need only consult Augustine's The Gift of Perseverance.

Pighius also brings up Chrysostom, but instead of offering his own insights, he simply repeats a passage I had previously quoted, in which Chrysostom insists that the choice between good and evil is within human power, leaving sinners without excuse—they do evil simply because they will to do so. Chrysostom's view is that humanity must take responsibility for evil since it lies within our choice, preventing anyone from shifting blame away from their own will. I have often expressed agreement with this principle, and it is central in my Institutes. However, I also made it clear that Chrysostom, in his high view of free choice, does not convey the full truth, as he fails to acknowledge the corrupted condition of human will that the fall has left us with.

These Fathers, when read carefully, do not support Pighius's conclusions. Instead, they affirm what Scripture teaches: that we are wholly dependent on God's grace, both to will and to do what is good.

Conclusion

After amassing all these references, as if they were proof beyond doubt, Pighius finally reaches his initial claim: that the belief in the

bondage of human will, as we teach, is refuted by the consensus of all faithful Christians throughout history. He even claims that I am exposed as false for saying that the early church fathers were often unclear or inconsistent on this matter, to the point that no certain doctrine can be drawn from their writings. I ask readers to excuse me if, in answering Pighius, I don't resort to the theatrical rhetoric he employs. I will respond plainly, with the straightforward truth, which has no need of dramatic language.

Firstly, regarding his appeal to the "consensus of the church," I respond simply: the only true consensus of the church is that which aligns with God's Word. Human opinions should not twist the meaning of what the Holy Spirit inspired in the Scriptures, which were given precisely so that we might test all doctrines—whether from men or even angels—against this unchanging foundation. So, whenever Pighius brings up the so-called consensus of the universal church, I will answer that we should not separate what God has united: that all true believers gather around the truth of Christ, like eagles gathering to a lifegiving source. If the faithful are united, it is in truth, not in mere human opinion.

Nor will I concede to Pighius the notion that a few writings reflect a fixed and universal consensus of the church. I don't question the sincerity of the early church fathers, nor do I consider their testimony worthless. But it doesn't offer the level of certainty that he suggests. It's reasonable to think that, while these church fathers reflect common views in their time, they also express their own personal perspectives, shaped by their minds and sometimes by unclear language. Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Hilary sometimes speak in a harsh or rough style that obscures what they aim to convey. We know that how something is said can deeply impact how it's understood.

I would further ask Pighius: Should we place more trust in a single individual as a voice of the church's consensus than in many believers gathered in council, who speak together as the collective voice of the church? Now, let's consider his examples.

Pighius quotes Hilary, who says, "Our will has a natural capacity to choose, but once it begins, God adds increase, and the merit of what is added belongs to that initial choice." Yet, I present in contrast a ruling from the Council of Orange: "If anyone says that God waits for our will to desire cleansing from sin and denies that the Holy Spirit enables this desire in us, he opposes the Spirit." Here, Hilary gives some credit to human will for initiating, with God's grace merely aiding afterward, while the council condemns any view that denies God's Spirit as the source of our will toward holiness.

Where, then, is Pighius's "certain consensus" that he so eagerly asserts? He claims a united voice, yet even the church's councils speak against such assumptions. True unity is found only where the church's teachings align with the eternal truth of God's Word.

In one passage, Hilary writes, "When we pray, we start, and then God gives." Yet the Council of Orange declares, "If anyone says that God's mercy comes to us because we first choose, ask, or try, and doesn't acknowledge that it is God's Spirit enabling us to believe, will, and ask as we should, he opposes the Scriptures, which say: 'What do you have that you did not receive?'" Hilary suggests that faith starts within us, while the council insists it begins with God's grace alone. Pighius claims Hilary's words reflect the church's tradition, yet where does this leave the council's ruling? Though later in time, it aligns with earlier teachings from Carthage and Milevis.

I will leave Augustine aside for now, though when I bring him forward, he will thoroughly disrupt the supposed "harmony" Pighius

claims among the church fathers. If I had time, I could show that the writings of the early church fathers reveal little consensus on this issue. However, I hope this example helps readers see the uncertainty we would have if we relied solely on tradition, as Pighius insists.

Augustine himself once faced opponents demanding proof from the fathers. He responded, "What use is it to examine the works of those who did not face this issue and so had no need to address it? They naturally touched on it only briefly." Augustine knew that many of the fathers, dealing with different heresies, mentioned grace only in passing. If I used his words to show that seeking answers only in the writings of the fathers is misguided, Pighius would respond with insults. So, instead, I appeal to readers who value reason.

The core of my defense is that Pighius uses names in bad faith, misrepresenting evidence that does not contradict us at all. For instance, he claims Peter and Clement as witnesses, using false and forged documents to do so.

When it comes to Irenaeus and Tertullian, they describe man's freedom only as it existed at creation, before the fall, without discussing the corruption brought by sin. This doesn't contradict us, for we, too, affirm that man was created free but fell into bondage through sin. They argue that sin isn't part of man's essence, and we agree. But we add that after his fall, man's nature was corrupted, a condition inherited by all his descendants. Thus, Pighius cannot count them as witnesses against us either.

Of the remaining writers Pighius cites, only Ambrose and Basil offer minimal support for his argument—if any at all. Their descriptions of human nature refer to its original, uncorrupted state, not to the fallen, weakened nature we now possess. Since true freedom of the

will belongs only to a soul in sound health, restoring such freedom would require first restoring the soul's lost wholeness.

Then we come to Origen, whose views Jerome himself questioned as authoritative for defining church doctrine. But let's consider this: if Pighius believes Origen could not have erred on what was wellknown in his day, then how does he explain Origen's denial of essential truths? Origen held that the Son was created, not begotten, that the Son's goodness was not inherent but received, that the Holy Spirit was merely a force, and that our physical bodies would not rise again. If Pighius insists Origen couldn't err on matters so central to the faith, he exposes himself to obvious rebuttal.

As for Hilary, his views on free will were later rejected by an orthodox council. Jerome, whom Pighius also cites, softened his position on human ability in his later years, especially in response to Pelagianism. Chrysostom, too, spoke often of human power, yet I have always acknowledged his tendency to overstate our natural abilities. Pighius even tries to enlist Bernard as an ally, though if we examined Bernard's views more closely, I believe the substance of his arguments would lean significantly in my favor.

In sum, Pighius's reliance on these figures fails to offer solid support. Each, if carefully examined, either falls short or even supports, at least partially, what I have argued all along.

Where, then, is this supposed agreement from all generations that Pighius insists should be viewed as the clear, certain tradition of the church—even more reliable than God's own word? Where is the "lie of immense magnitude" he claims to have exposed in my writings? I stated that the early church fathers, especially the Greeks, and particularly Chrysostom, often praised free will beyond its due. But I also noted that they spoke with such variety, confusion, or

inconsistency that it's hard to draw a solid conclusion from their writings. By "variety," I meant that one writer might assign more power to free will, another less, or place freedom in different aspects of human faculties, leaving the overall impression unclear.

Pighius twists my words, as though I accused each of the church fathers of contradicting himself individually. What a gross misrepresentation! But should I not say they spoke confusingly when they discussed man's will as though he were still whole and unfallen, even though humanity is, in reality, deeply wounded by sin, unable to rise without God's aid? They speak of free will as though it remained unaffected by the Fall.

Now, if Pighius insists that before the Pelagian heresy, all the church fathers universally and unreservedly upheld human free choice, then I would like him to explain what he means. If we can gain clear understanding without careful distinctions between divine grace and human ability, then perhaps I am mistaken. But if, instead, readers are left in doubt and confusion about what is from God and what remains in human power, then why does he so maliciously attack me when I am merely stating the truth?

Calvin's Response to Pighius On Book

Three [of Pighius]

Now we come to Pighius's third book, which he devotes entirely to discussing Augustine. Since I had cited Augustine as a key supporter of our position, Pighius aims here not only to pull Augustine from my

side but to recruit him for his own. This, at least, is what he claims at the start. But as he gets into the substance, he constantly wavers, sometimes searching for ways to evade Augustine's clear teachings, and at other times openly rejecting the Augustine he originally sought to make his ally. What, then, is the point of making grand promises to deliver everything, only to leave readers disappointed?

My purpose here is twofold. First, I want readers who seek truth and sound judgment to see Pighius's true motives. He has not entered this debate from a genuine desire for sound teaching but from a vehement and unseemly hatred for us. His arguments are driven not by a sincere search for truth but by vanity and a love for quarreling. Nothing he presents is sincere or honest; he is content if he can deceive readers, earning admiration for his cleverness and cunning.

Second, I want readers to recognize the honesty and openness in my claim that at least one ancient church father—Augustine—clearly aligns with our views.

Pighius accuses me of quoting Augustine out of context, implying that I misunderstand his intent. But let's examine this. One passage I referenced is from Augustine's Letter to Anastasius (Letter 145), where Augustine writes that the human will is not free without the Spirit's help, as it is bound by powerful desires. Is anything here unclear or out of context?

Pighius also challenges my use of a passage from The Perfection of Righteousness. Here, Augustine confronts the dilemma posed by Pelagius, who argued: "Does man sin by necessity or by free choice? If by necessity, he's not to blame; if by choice, then who gave him this capacity? God, who is good, of course. So why does it seem inclined more toward evil?" Augustine's response is clear: human freedom became bound after sin entered the world. As a result, our

will was "corrupted," turning freedom into a form of bondage. He explains that humanity, due to this corruption, now cries out to God, saying, "Deliver me from my necessities." This is why we cannot fully understand what is good or do it without God's help.

Augustine then notes that true freedom was lost when our will turned from God. We became slaves to sin, requiring deliverance. Augustine's words underscore that, just as the sick need a doctor, the bound will needs a liberator. Our true freedom—spiritual health—is only restored through the grace and healing of God.

Now, let Pighius try to claim that I've quoted fragments out of context! Augustine's teaching here is unambiguous: our will, once corrupted by sin, can only be liberated by the grace of God.

Let's look further at Augustine's view on human freedom and sin. In his letter to Laurentius, Augustine writes, "Man misused his free choice and so lost both himself and it." This statement, far from being unclear, simply means that by choosing sin, humanity lost its original freedom. Augustine explains this further in his writings to Boniface: true obedience doesn't come from human strength alone but from the Spirit's help. For the human will to act righteously, it must be freed by God's grace, for as it stands, free choice without God is only capable of sinning. He adds that without divine assistance, our will lacks the power to pursue righteousness.

Augustine is clear: true freedom isn't natural to us in our fallen state. In his book Rebuke and Grace, he even uses a touch of irony, saying that "free choice is free from righteousness and in bondage to sin." By this, he means that what we call "freedom" is, without God, merely enslavement to sin. Genuine freedom, he says, comes only through the liberating power of grace.

In another passage, Augustine speaks directly about the human will, which he describes as "bound." He writes, "O that man were made perfect by God's gift, and not by the free—or rather, bound—choice of his will!" Augustine here acknowledges that human choice, if not empowered by God, remains bound by sin.

Pighius claims I misinterpret Augustine's words, but the truth is clear. Augustine saw true freedom as dependent on divine grace, without which human will is constrained to sin. I never argued that these passages alone resolve the matter; they simply demonstrate Augustine's view on the limits of "free" choice. Pighius misrepresents my intent, pretending I rely on these few words to settle the whole debate. In reality, they reveal Augustine's perspective on the will: in sin, it is bound, and true freedom is the gift of God alone.

Before Pighius brings Augustine into his argument, he suggests we consider the different periods in which Augustine wrote his works, dividing them into three phases: the first before the Pelagian controversy, the second during his disputes with Pelagius, and the third after the conflict had subsided. I am willing to accept this division, but I cannot agree with Pighius's underlying assumption that Augustine's writings from the time of the controversy are less reliable simply because they were written in the heat of debate. Pighius implies that Augustine's later works, written with more calm, offer a clearer view of his true beliefs.

However, I disagree with the notion that Augustine's commitment to truth was compromised by the intensity of the Pelagian dispute. Augustine was not a young, impulsive man during these writings; he approached them with the maturity of experience. Furthermore, although he often scaled back his praise for free choice, he never retracted or regretted his limitations on it. This consistency across

his works shows that his views did not change after the controversy ended; rather, he maintained the same convictions throughout. Augustine's writings, regardless of the period, were aimed at faithfully expounding the truth, and his stance remained steady from start to finish.

Let's turn to Pighius's argument about Augustine's early writings. He begins by citing Augustine's work on free will, written against the Manichees, where Augustine argues that free will was essential for humanity so that people could live rightly. Pighius claims that if we deny this, we undermine the justice of God's judgment. But to clarify, Augustine himself states in his Retractations that the purpose of these writings was to address the origin of evil, not to discuss how humanity can return to goodness or advance spiritually. Augustine's aim was to show that sin came from humanity's choice to rebel, not from God's creation. So, when Pighius tries to emphasize Augustine's praise of free will, he should also recall Augustine's words: Free will existed when it was whole, but now, damaged and weakened, it needs humble confession, not proud defense.

Pighius offers another proof from Augustine's On Free Choice, where Augustine argues that the shift in humanity—from choosing what is eternally good to preferring lower things—was voluntary. He explains that without this voluntary choice, humanity could not rightly be praised or blamed for actions. However, Augustine clarifies that he was describing human nature as it was created, not as it is now, corrupted. Today, he argues, our fallen nature means we cannot live rightly without God's grace to free the will from sin's bondage. The will, Augustine insists, must first be liberated by God's grace, or it could never act righteously. Without grace, the human will remains captive to sin.

Augustine's real purpose in addressing the Manichees was to reject their belief that sin originates from God. Instead, Augustine affirms that sin came from humanity's misuse of free will. Humanity was indeed created free, yet after falling into bondage through sin, we need more than a reminder of what we once were; we need God's hand to lift us up from our lost state.

To put it plainly, there is no disagreement between us on the original nature of humanity. Pighius asserts that man was created with free will, and we wholeheartedly agree; we have always held to this. Augustine also speaks about the significant difference between humanity in its original, unfallen state and its current state of corruption due to sin. Our dispute is not about humanity's original nature but its present, fallen condition. Yet Pighius focuses extensively on Augustine's words about humanity's unfallen state, ignoring Augustine's clarification that when he speaks of a will free to do good, he means the will that existed at creation.

Pighius exclaims that Augustine plainly teaches that nothing is more in man's control than his own will. But if he would read further, he would find Augustine saying that this inability to do good is now part of human punishment, resulting from the fall. Augustine explains, "If humanity is now as it was created—unchangeable in goodness—then sin would be impossible. But because humanity is not as it once was, it cannot make itself good. This is part of its punishment." Augustine adds that while humanity could fall by its own choice, it cannot rise again on its own; it needs God's grace to be restored.

These statements, which Pighius considers his strongest proofs, do not in any way take Augustine away from our side. Pighius claims that I have falsely aligned Augustine with my position, but that would be hard to prove. In fact, Pighius wears himself out in

defending Augustine against claims I never made. I embrace all the statements Pighius quotes from Augustine, as they fully support our view of humanity's need for grace. Whether free will and necessity can coexist is another question, one that we will address elsewhere, for it does not belong here, any more than a painting of a shipwreck needs a cypress tree in its background.

Pighius argues that Augustine denied anyone could be guilty of sin if they couldn't avoid sinning. Anyone examining Augustine's words closely, however, will see that Augustine is talking about the origin of sin—about how this binding necessity to sin began when the first man fell freely and willingly. This point, crucial to understanding Augustine's position, is something Pighius chose to leave out. Augustine himself clarifies in his Retractations that he didn't openly discuss original sin or our corrupted nature in his argument with the Manichees, as they rejected Scripture, particularly the Old Testament, from which such proofs would be drawn. Much of what Augustine says here is said as a concession to his opponents rather than as his final view on human nature.

Pighius triumphantly claims he needs only one contradiction from Augustine to prove his point, suggesting I believe Augustine is entirely consistent on this matter. But what made him think I ever claimed that? I'm fully aware that Augustine's views matured over time. As a young man refuting the Manichees, Augustine relied more on his natural reasoning and philosophy than on spiritual wisdom. Back then, his goal was mainly to show that humanity's ruin came from its own choice. But later, when confronted by the Pelagians, Augustine was spurred to a deeper understanding of grace and human dependence on God. Out of that struggle came a clearer, more profound articulation of grace—a perspective which I believe Augustine holds in common with us. It's as if God used the defiance

of the Pelagians to drive Augustine deeper into the truth, magnifying God's grace and humbling human pride.

Pighius then brings up another passage from Augustine's Two Souls, where Augustine describes the will as an "uncoerced movement of the mind, directed toward keeping or acquiring something." Pighius seems to think this weakens our position, but it does not. Augustine himself clarifies that he wrote this to distinguish between those who choose willingly (like humanity's first sin in paradise) and those forced by external compulsion. Augustine continues, saying, "The will is free only when liberated by grace; otherwise, it's not truly will but mere passion—corruption in service to sin, from which only Christ can free us." So, Augustine stresses here that a corrupted will lacks true freedom and is bound by sin, a view completely in line with ours.

Pighius then references Augustine's definition of sin as "the will to pursue what righteousness forbids, something we are free to avoid." He argues that if we are not free, it is not truly "will." Augustine himself explains that this definition only applies to the first sin, Adam's original transgression. He clarifies, "This definition is true when it describes sin alone—not also the punishment for sin. For when sin itself becomes a punishment, how much freedom does the will retain when enslaved by sinful passions?" Augustine's words make it plain that he's referring specifically to the initial state of humanity before the fall, when sin was chosen freely, without bondage.

Pighius attempts to dismiss this, saying Augustine teaches, "Nobody deserves criticism or punishment if they cannot avoid sin." Yet, Augustine himself warns that this reasoning applies only to the original sin when Adam fell with a free will. Now, humanity's will is

captive to sin as part of God's just punishment, only able to be freed by the grace of Christ. Augustine affirms that we cannot be condemned for what we do without freedom; however, after the fall, this freedom has been lost, and our will remains bound until liberated by God's mercy.

Pighius even suggests Augustine's thought aligns with his own, to the extent that he would call Augustine "brutish" if he didn't. But in doing so, Pighius twists Augustine's words, ignoring that Augustine's teachings on human freedom and grace directly oppose Pighius's interpretation. Augustine would, in fact, never agree that man's will remains fully free after the fall.

Finally, Pighius cites True Religion, where Augustine says sin cannot exist without a voluntary will, and that free choice dwells in the will: "For God determined that his servants would be better if they served him freely, by will and not by necessity." But Augustine later clarifies this in his Retractations, noting that this statement applies only to sin in its original form, before it became our punishment. When our acts are now called voluntary, Augustine explains, it's because they stem from an evil will—one that cannot become good without the healing and preparation of the Lord. Far from agreeing with Pighius, Augustine shows that human will is now bound and in need of divine intervention to incline it toward good.

Augustine's writings, properly interpreted, consistently reject the notion that human will is fully free in its present, fallen state, a point that Pighius fails to acknowledge by forcing Augustine's words to serve his own flawed argument.

Pighius argues that Augustine equates "voluntary" with "free" and that necessity is the opposite of free will. Now, I would have no issue with this if the will were fully intact and free by nature. It's similar to

saying that humans are two-legged beings and therefore can walk. But if applied to a paralyzed person, this argument would fail because paralysis hinders them. The same is true for the will: though created free, it has become enslaved by corruption. It remains bound until God sets it free. Augustine himself puts it plainly: "If we want to defend free choice, let's not reject the grace by which it is liberated to avoid evil and do good" (Letter to Vitalis). Or more concisely: "In this debate, we must consider not nature alone, but its corruption" (The Grace of God Against Celestius). Augustine here speaks of the will's natural state, but he recognizes its bondage due to sin.

As to the second part of Pighius's claim, Augustine says, "Through free choice, man became a sinner, but now corruption, as a punishment, has made freedom into necessity." When Pelagius asked if sin arose from the will or necessity, Augustine replied by quoting the Psalm, "Deliver me from my necessities" (The Perfection of Righteousness). I believe these quotes alone are sufficient. But for further clarity, Augustine addresses Pelagius's followers who cited Jerome's words that "we were created with free choice and are not compelled toward virtue or vice by necessity." Augustine answers, "Who would deny that our nature was created in a state different from the one it's now in? In doing right, there is no chain of necessity because freedom flows from love. But note: 'The love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.' Who grants this love but the One who ascended on high and led captivity captive? Let humanity understand that the need to sin comes from the corruption of nature, not its creation, and let us ask God, 'Deliver me from my necessities.'"

Pighius's citation from The Greatness of the Soul doesn't even need a response. Augustine is clear that whenever he praises free choice, he is referring to humanity's original creation—not the miserable state

into which we have plunged ourselves by our own choice. If Pighius refuses to accept this clarification, he has only to note that Augustine himself later retracted or corrected any statements he made otherwise.

Given all this, is it surprising, reader, that we remain untroubled by the supposed force of Pighius's arguments?

Let us continue. In Against Faustus the Manichee, Augustine notes that humanity was initially created with the potential to resist sinful desires. This point is not controversial, as he speaks about our original, unfallen state. But then Augustine adds something relevant to our current condition: "Man is renewed through that capacity by which, had he chosen, he could have avoided falling." Pighius argues that this "capacity" refers to free will and claims Augustine supports his view. But this is far from Augustine's intent, as he repeatedly rejects such a reading, even encouraging the African bishops to condemn it.

What does Augustine actually mean here? He's saying that by God's mercy, we are restored from bondage to sin into a freedom that enables us to resist worldly desires, fleshly temptations, and corrupt passions. This is the "capacity" Augustine praises—the strength to stand firm in the Lord. Why didn't Augustine explicitly say this in that passage? He himself explains: "When writing against the Manichees, I refer to this as 'nature' rather than 'grace' because the issue with them was specifically over nature. Yet, grace restores our fallen nature to do what it is powerless to accomplish on its own" (Retractations 1.16). Augustine acknowledges that he used the term "nature" to counter the Manichees but clarifies that it is truly grace that restores our corrupted nature and enables it to stand once again.

The passage Pighius next quotes, from Against Felix, is even less relevant. Augustine there discusses only the original, sinless state of our nature. In fact, Augustine later explains in Retractations that he didn't address our fallen nature's need for liberation and renewal in that work because the argument didn't require it (book 2). Pighius's misunderstanding would cause no problem if not for his own needless confusion, which stirs up trouble for himself and others.

Pighius, in his examination of Augustine's second group of writings, seems anxious that I might claim Augustine later regretted or even retracted certain things he had written in his youth. Attempting to preempt this, he declares that my argument would be proven false because, as he claims, I once said Augustine was consistent in every point. Yet I never stated that Augustine's writings are perfectly uniform on every detail. What I have consistently argued, however, is that Augustine generally supports our stance, particularly in his mature works.

In truth, I have often noted how God used the Pelagian controversy to stir Augustine to confront and correct the common errors about human free will—errors influenced by pagan philosophy. This controversy helped Augustine honor God's grace over human capability, which had been misunderstood and almost obscured by popular opinion. But if Pighius insists that I claimed Augustine never wavered in any way, let him find my words to that effect and demonstrate his case clearly.

Pighius then boasts that he will prove Augustine to be a firm opponent of our view. Yet, in the same breath, he undermines Augustine's credibility, portraying him as contentious and overly focused on clever arguments rather than candor. Pighius suggests Augustine relied on sophisticated tricks to counter his opponents,

sometimes bending the truth for effect. But if Augustine genuinely supported Pighius's position, why would Pighius feel the need to criticize his methods and reliability?

As evidence, Pighius points to Augustine's response to Pelagius, who argued that necessity erases true choice. Augustine answered that while we naturally desire happiness, we do so willingly, not by coercion. This response, Pighius claims, is merely clever rhetoric. Yet he fails to grasp Augustine's distinction between necessity and coercion—a distinction that enables one to both desire something necessarily (like happiness) and yet choose it freely.

Pighius also notes another objection from Pelagius, which Augustine refutes with a parallel argument: "Since we cannot choose to desire unhappiness, it does not mean we choose it willingly." Pighius dismisses this as irrelevant to his argument against us, but he fails to appreciate Augustine's clear reasoning. Here, Augustine was not being evasive or insincere but was directly engaging with Pelagius's flawed reasoning.

Pighius's objections, then, do not diminish Augustine's reliability, nor do they contradict Augustine's central teachings on grace and human will. Rather, they reflect a misunderstanding of Augustine's nuanced responses to his opponents.

Pighius argues that Augustine's true beliefs should be gathered from certain books that he claims are more reflective and less influenced by the "heat of argument." Yet, using this logic, should not all the works he cites from Augustine's debates with the Manicheans be treated cautiously as well? Pighius's inconsistency here is notable. He insists that Augustine's earlier writings—composed in the fervor of youth, fresh from oratory training, and more influenced by secular learning than Scripture—should be regarded as definitive. However,

he dismisses Augustine's later works, written with greater wisdom, maturity, and depth, simply because they don't align with his own views.

Pighius then brings forward a passage from Augustine's Against Two Letters of the Pelagians, where Augustine states that the human race did not lose free choice entirely through Adam's sin; rather, humanity lost the perfect righteousness and immortality that existed in paradise. Now, this could seem confusing unless we consider how Augustine commonly used the term "free choice." I pointed out in my Institutes that while Augustine frequently used this term, he did so with a careful explanation, reminding us that the term should not be misunderstood.

In The Spirit and the Letter, Augustine notes that choice is "free" only when it is liberated by grace—otherwise, it remains enslaved to sin. Here, Augustine is not saying that human will is completely autonomous. Instead, he acknowledges that the will can choose evil freely because it is inclined that way, though it is powerless to choose righteousness without God's grace.

So, Augustine indeed acknowledges that the will is "free" in a limited sense: it freely follows its fallen inclinations toward sin. But it is not free to choose good on its own; this freedom is restored only by Christ's grace. Augustine's words here align so closely with our teachings that one might think they were penned specifically to support them. His explanation points out that fallen willpower may be "free" in choosing sin but is utterly incapable of choosing true righteousness without divine intervention.

Pighius argues that humans naturally possess a free will that directs their actions entirely on its own. According to him, each individual has the power to choose or not to choose any action, with full control

over the body's members, which are bound to obey the will when it exerts itself. He acknowledges that human effort is sometimes weakened by a tendency to indulge the flesh, which makes it hard for the will to fully exercise this power. Yet, he believes the will still retains authority over the body. Furthermore, Pighius argues that when the will resists the flesh's desires and strives toward righteousness, it can regain control—even if it's a struggle and requires divine grace.

He attributes two additional "evils" to this struggle: laziness of the will and a habit of sinning, which, he says, create self-imposed bondage. However, he insists this bondage does not remove the will's inherent freedom; it just becomes "comfortable" with its own chains. When the will grows truly dissatisfied, it can break free and gain victory, though with difficulty, due to this internal conflict and entrenched habits.

Yet this view has a distinctly Pelagian tone, even fully embracing Pelagian ideas. By claiming that the will remains fundamentally free and powerful within itself—unharmed by original sin—Pighius overlooks the truth. Augustine, by contrast, clearly teaches that our will cannot turn toward good without divine intervention. For example, in his letter to Vitalis, Augustine explains that God's grace does not come as a reward for our willing; rather, it causes our will to move toward God in the first place. He states that God "removes the stony heart" and prepares our will by grace, not because of any prior merit or inclination in us.

Augustine consistently emphasizes this dependence on God's grace in multiple works. In The City of God, he notes that human will initiates evil, but only God's will initiates true goodness, either by creating or by restoring what was lost. In The Merits and

Forgiveness of Sins, he questions what good can be found in our will apart from grace, concluding that there is none. Similarly, in his letters, Augustine explains that even a good intention or purpose within us comes only when God's mercy first moves our hearts.

In several instances, Augustine revisits his earlier words to clarify that any good in us, including the will to follow God, is from Him alone. For instance, when he once wrote that we control our own will, he later corrected this, asserting that we receive the power to live rightly from God, who alone prepares our will to seek Him.

Thus, contrary to Pighius's claim, Augustine does not see the human will as naturally free and capable of choosing good apart from grace. Instead, Augustine consistently affirms that our will is bound until God frees it, and that even our desire to seek God must be prepared and enabled by His grace.

How does Pighius intend to twist these clear statements to align with his own misguided views? He suggests that original sin merely weakened the will's control over the body but left its ability to choose good or evil untouched. He claims that any tendency toward evil results only from laziness and bad habits, not from any loss of strength in resisting sin. But Augustine strongly rejects this, declaring that the will is bound by evil and cannot do good until it is freed by God.

Pighius audaciously claims Augustine as his supporter, yet Augustine consistently affirms that human will can only choose evil until it is empowered by the Spirit. The Council of Orange echoes this: "If anyone says that God waits for our desire to be cleansed from sin and does not acknowledge that the Holy Spirit causes us to desire it, he resists the Spirit." Pighius, who professes loyalty to the church, now

stands condemned as resisting the Spirit by this orthodox council's ruling.

Pighius further argues that the will struggles against the flesh yet can win if it tries hard enough and uses grace only to reinforce its own authority. But this view was also condemned by the church. The Council of Milevis declared, "Whoever claims that grace helps us merely to perform God's commands more easily, as if we could fulfill them by our own free choice, even with difficulty, let him be anathema." Though I lack the vehement language Pighius uses, I hope it is clear that his view is utterly distant from Augustine's teaching, despite his bold claim of Augustine's support.

If space permitted, it would be worthwhile to show how Pighius's ideas conflict with the entire teaching of Scripture. And though I'll address his views on original sin more fully later, it must be noted that he claims Augustine supports his views by referencing the third book of the Hypognosticon. First, Augustine repeatedly teaches the opposite. Second, scholars widely agree that Hypognosticon is not Augustine's work. Third, Pighius distorts the passage he quotes, which actually says that while we retain a rational choice, this choice cannot initiate or complete any godly act without God's help—only tasks of earthly life are possible through human will alone.

Perhaps Pighius is still not satisfied. I will leave him no ground for further objections.

The author goes on to say: "When we discuss free choice, we refer to the entirety of man, because when the first man sinned, he corrupted not just a part, but his whole nature." You can see here that the corruption affected the whole person, not merely a part of human nature as Pighius imagines. He continues: "Since free choice has been corrupted, the entire person has been corrupted; thus, without

the grace of God, man cannot even begin, let alone accomplish, what is pleasing to God." This firmly counters Pighius's notion that corruption is limited to the body, as if the body alone were tainted while the will remained intact.

Furthermore, the author clarifies: "The healing comes first, so that in Christ, the corrupted will is renewed, healed, and prepared." Here we see that the will itself is where corruption lies, incapable of producing anything good until it has been healed and prepared by God's grace.

The text continues, "Man, whose will is weakened by the corruption of free choice, does not seek God's grace out of his own will or merits. Instead, God, in his mercy, acts first, moving man to know and seek him." This statement leaves no room for human preparation of the will apart from divine intervention. The author then says of unbelievers: "They cannot perceive the true light unless God shines it into their hearts. But once they receive the Spirit, they have the freedom to follow God's commands." This raises an essential question: how can one speak of a "free" will when the person cannot see or choose rightly without God's grace?

For those who are already believers, the text says, "Through the grace of compassion, they attain to good works which they neither desired nor sought on their own." And ultimately, the conclusion is: "Whatever a man wills or does comes from the Lord."

Pighius claims that man can will good independently, needing only partial assistance from God to accomplish it. Yet he relies on the authority of "Augustine" to say this, although Augustine himself teaches that both the will and the power to do good are entirely gifts from God, leaving no room for Pighius's interpretation. Augustine refutes the idea that man's will initiates God's favor by insisting that

"when it pleased God, he called me—not when I willed, but when he chose me, not through my merit but through his grace." This makes it clear that even the initial desire for good is granted by God's grace, not by human effort or merit.

I doubt Pighius will have the courage to maintain his argument in the face of such clarity. The truth here is unmistakable: all good that a person wills or does comes entirely from the grace of God.

In trying to avoid the clear message of Paul about sin, Pighius distorts a profound truth. Paul calls those who are "free from righteousness" as slaves to sin, meaning they live under the power of sin until God liberates them. Pighius tries to dismiss this reality with shallow arguments, but Paul's words cannot be taken lightly.

Similarly, Pighius misrepresents Augustine's views on grace. Augustine clearly attributes every good work to God's grace. Yet Pighius treats this as if it were only a possibility, not a reality. He twists Augustine's teaching by changing "rebellion" to "weakness" as if this softens humanity's need for grace. Pighius tries to argue that Augustine's stance was only meant to oppose Pelagians, not him. But Augustine was firm: true freedom is found only under God's Spirit, while those outside God's grace remain slaves to sin.

In arguing this way, Pighius ignores the core of Augustine's teaching —that the will to do good comes solely from God's grace, not from human effort. Augustine's cry is clear: without God's intervention, our will is bent only toward evil. Therefore, even the desire to do good must be granted by God. Augustine explains this beautifully, saying that when people come to God willingly, it's because God has first worked in their hearts to make them willing.

Pighius's efforts to diminish God's role—suggesting it's just part of the process rather than the entirety—miss the truth entirely. Human will, left on its own, is trapped in sin. Only God can change our hearts, transforming us to desire what is good.

Pighius claims that Augustine clarified what the orthodox church condemned in both the teachings of Mani and Pelagius. Mani was condemned for saying that humanity, marriage, and the law were not created by the good God. Pelagius was condemned for opposing God's grace, claiming that it is given based on human merit rather than freely, and for suggesting that people earn grace by making good choices of their own will. Pelagius also argued that children are secure without needing Christ's salvation.

Given this, how can Pighius accuse us of following Mani's teachings when we affirm that humanity, marriage, and the law all come from God? Even if the Manicheans held other beliefs, this accusation falls apart. Pighius says that the main errors of Pelagius don't include affirming free will. But, by that same logic, the main errors of Mani have nothing to do with what Pighius accuses us of.

To make this clear: Pighius's arguments fall apart because he relies more on clever tricks than on true reasoning.

Let me now respond directly. While this summary touches on Pelagius's errors, it doesn't fully capture them. Augustine himself listed twelve key points that must be rejected by anyone who wants to distance themselves from Pelagianism. These include claims about the possibility of perfect righteousness, the need for grace in every action of life, and God's election of believers and predestination of the wicked. All of these were central points of dispute between Augustine and the Pelagians, showing that Pighius is making careless arguments.

Further, in Augustine's work On the Grace of Christ and Original Sin, he clearly says that Pelagius could avoid dispute if he admitted that not only our abilities come from God but also our very desire and actions to do good. Without God's grace through Christ, we are unable to choose or do anything truly good. Our righteousness comes from Christ alone, not from ourselves.

These are Augustine's true words—not the distorted version Pighius presents.

In addressing this complex issue, I find Augustine's view insightful: if we agree on three core points, then there would be no disagreement between us. Pelagius acknowledged that human ability is helped by God's grace but still insisted that the decision and the actual doing of good were ultimately under human control. However, Augustine saw through this and firmly maintained that it is God's grace that actually enables us to desire and accomplish good. God does not merely give us the ability; He also gives us the desire and the action itself.

Augustine explains this further: "When God teaches through His Spirit, He teaches in a way that moves us not only to understand but also to desire and to act on that understanding. If it were just about our ability, Christ would have said, 'Everyone who has heard and learned can come.' But He goes further and says, 'Everyone who has heard and learned comes.'" Pelagius claimed that God's grace helps our ability, but it's up to us to act. In reality, though, Augustine insists that true faith is not only possible but also actual—it is God who works in us to bring our will and action to fruition.

So, what more could Pighius want? I would wholeheartedly accept such a covenant if we all agreed on this doctrine. Pighius, however, believes only our human ability is weak and that grace merely assists it. He avoids the full scope of grace's work, as if it were dangerous.

As for "free choice," there's no conflict for us. A certain writer, often mistaken for Augustine, notes that our will is powerless to begin or complete any good work without God's grace. He affirms that God acts first, freely giving us a good will. Nothing within ourselves makes us strong, wise, or righteous—only in God do we find these. So, if we agree on the meaning, I have no issue with using the term "free choice," as long as it's defined in line with Scripture.

Pighius ridicules us for supposedly denying that Augustine attributes any role to human choice. But we maintain this: First, anything within us is empty and powerless for the true righteousness that God demands, unless God directs us toward good by His grace. Second, our will is, by nature, inclined toward evil and needs to be transformed by God to even begin choosing good. Grace is not merely a tool we might decide to use or reject—it actively moves and guides our will to choose rightly. God doesn't just offer grace; He enables us to respond, steers our minds toward good, and sustains us continuously.

In essence, grace doesn't merely help once and leave us; it stays with us, guiding us every step of the way.

What does Augustine say? We've already shared many of his thoughts, but it's worth hearing more, so Pighius may see that nothing here should surprise him. Augustine writes, "People work hard to find something good in our will that doesn't come from God, but I don't see how they can." If we had a free will from God that could be either good or evil, but chose good independently of Him, then the good within us would be better than what we received from God Himself.

Pighius argues that Augustine believed grace and free will are both necessary. I agree, but Augustine's point is that God works within

people, not objects like stones. Humans have a will—created with the ability to choose—and God directs that will toward good. Our will, corrupt by nature, can only desire good through the work of God's grace. Augustine is simply saying that a person cannot choose good unless they have a will; however, this will is shaped by grace, not by our own strength. The human will, though naturally inclined toward evil, becomes good only by the work of the Holy Spirit.

Pighius continues with confusing claims. He argues that Augustine didn't dismiss good works done by free choice after being prepared by God's grace, as though this opposes my view. But Augustine says that these good works are prepared, guided, and completed by God's grace, without any merit from our will. If God's grace comes first and directs any good we do, why would Pighius argue with this?

Yes, Augustine calls good works voluntary, which I do not deny; however, free choice on its own can accomplish nothing. It acts only as it is acted upon by God. Augustine clearly teaches that our righteousness is by grace, not by an innate free will, but through the Holy Spirit given to us.

Pighius now brings up a third group of Augustine's writings, celebrating himself as if he's already won the argument and is just finishing up for form's sake. Perhaps he convinced himself of his victory by reading his own words without anyone to challenge him. Now that he has our response, I hope he realizes that his self-praise was premature.

Pighius points to Augustine's work, The Merits and Forgiveness of Sins, where Augustine critiques the Pelagians—not for affirming free will, but for exaggerating its power. Augustine allowed the use of the term "free will" to avoid unnecessary conflict over language, but Pighius cannot use this alone to challenge our position. Augustine

and the orthodox indeed believed that no one sins without willingly choosing to, and we agree with this, as long as "freely" means acting willingly, by one's own choice.

Pighius then claims Augustine believed that God commands nothing beyond our power to accomplish. Augustine taught that if humanity's will were uncorrupted, we could obey the law perfectly. However, because sin has corrupted every part of us, the strength to fulfill the law's demands must come from God alone. These are not my words but Augustine's.

Pighius also argues that Augustine's frequent use of the term "help" implies that God does not do everything but leaves part of the work to us. Here, Pighius misses the context: Augustine was not writing a detailed analysis of free will but addressing other topics, such as whether death results from natural causes or sin, and the concept of original sin. Free will appears only briefly and indirectly in this context.

Examining Augustine's overall conclusion, we see it aligns with our view: God, by His grace, accomplishes what He commands in the law. Pighius notes that Augustine said prayer alone is not enough, which is true; Augustine was countering the mistaken idea that God works in us like an external force, without engaging our wills.

Finally, readers who recall the passages I previously quoted from Augustine will see that his argument goes further than Pighius acknowledges. Augustine does not merely describe God's "help" as if God assists while we do the actual work. Instead, he teaches that righteousness of both mind and will is entirely God's work. Augustine openly admits that he sees no good within the human will itself—only what God produces.

The passages that Pighius quotes from Augustine's The Spirit and the Letter do not need lengthy analysis if we interpret them plainly. Pighius tries hard to twist Augustine's words, but Augustine simply says that faith is within our free choice because we can choose to believe or not. If Augustine's argument ended there, Pighius would indeed have a point. However, Augustine clarifies that the ability to believe is itself a gift from God, not something we produce on our own. The will to believe is not a natural quality we possess but is created by the Holy Spirit. So, when Augustine says our faith and ability to believe are "ours," he means only because God first gives them to us.

Pighius then argues that Augustine splits responsibility between God and humans, suggesting that it is within our power to accept or reject God's call. But if we consider what Augustine says next, which Pighius omits, the issue is resolved. Augustine admits he cannot fully explain why one person believes and another does not, except to say that it is by God's mysterious will. This shows that Augustine recognized that even our choice to believe is a work of God, who leads us to faith. God doesn't merely awaken our will; He strengthens it to fully embrace the truth.

Even Pighius concedes that Augustine admitted he once thought we had the natural ability to accept the gospel, but later realized that it is God who inclines our hearts to believe. While faith is rightly called "ours," it originates in God. Augustine elsewhere says that God "finds" faith in us only because He first gives it to us.

Pighius also quotes Augustine as saying that no one should defend free will in a way that denies the need for grace, nor should we deny human choice in a way that excuses sin. But Augustine didn't mean that denying free choice excuses sin any more than affirming it

would deny grace. Augustine wanted to prevent people from using God's grace as an excuse to justify their sins, just as we do. We teach that every sin is committed by a person's own choice, making them fully responsible.

Augustine's caution not to excuse sin aligns with our position. When we deny the power of free choice, we still emphasize human accountability for sin, just as Augustine intended. By doing so, we uphold both God's grace and our responsibility before Him.

Pighius believes he has a strong argument from Augustine's writings to Valentinus, where Augustine defends free will without undermining grace. Augustine, he argues, shows that grace and free will work together, affirming free will as taught in Scripture and demonstrated through God's commands.

As always, it's best to let Augustine speak for himself. When he describes free will, Augustine explains it like this: "The human will is always free, but not always good. It is either free from righteousness, serving sin, and thus is evil; or it is free from sin, serving righteousness, and thus is good." He adds that the will, once evil, is only made good by God's grace, and by that grace, a good will can grow stronger. In other words, the will is called free because it moves by its own choice, yet it can only choose good when guided by God.

Pighius, however, expects something more—that the will can freely choose either good or evil at any time. Augustine clarifies that free will means that it can choose sin on its own, but can only choose good with God's help. Augustine's conclusion is simple: "Grace does not eliminate the human will but changes it from evil to good, and then supports it once it has become good."

According to Augustine, then, humans do have a natural will, but it is inherently evil and cannot choose good on its own. God's grace does not destroy this will but transforms it so it can desire good. Augustine says that while we are indeed the ones willing and acting, it is God who first enables us to want good and then helps us to accomplish it. Without God's help in both causing and supporting our actions, we cannot perform the good works He requires of us.

Augustine further explains that we don't have any natural readiness for this grace. A "stony heart"—a hardened will—is resistant to God, so any good will must be created by God. The grace of God doesn't merely incline us toward good but actively causes us to will and do good, as God promised: "I will cause you to walk in my commandments."

Someone might argue that Augustine suggests we cooperate with God once we have first received His grace. This is true in the sense that, once the Holy Spirit has transformed our will to desire good, we act with that will God has given us. Augustine even says that God rewards the faithful, both by giving grace in response to our past sinfulness and by furthering our growth in response to the grace we have already received. Here, we learn the meaning of God acting "without us" and "with us": when God first brings us to faith, transforming us from barren "stones" into fruitful "olive trees," this work is entirely His. But when He continues to help and strengthen us for each good work, that is where He acts "with us," supporting the power He's given us for faithful perseverance.

If we think of Paul's illustration, God acts like a gardener, nurturing the olive trees He has already made fruitful. By nature, we were wild, barren olives, unfit for any good. But when God regenerates us, He transforms our barren lives, enlightening our minds with truth and

redirecting our wills from evil to obedience. Can we claim credit for any of this? No; we are alive only by being rooted in Him. Even now, as we bear fruit, our life and growth come entirely from that root, which is a gift of grace, not something we possess by nature. And this root needs God's constant nourishment to thrive.

Augustine's teaching aligns entirely with our view. While he acknowledges free will, he shows that it has no power for good apart from God's grace. Pighius claims that only voluntary sin is truly sin, as if this contradicts our teaching. But we affirm the same, often noting that every sin is chosen freely. He also says that our merits earn rewards—but only if we understand that these "merits" are God's gifts to us.

In the end, Pighius's loud boasts of victory over us are no more than the hollow noise of self-congratulation. Augustine honors God's grace fully, even as he acknowledges the role of free will rightly understood.

Sensing that his argument is weakening, Pighius shifts to a different book, The Dogmas of the Church, which is falsely attributed to Augustine. Pighius knows, as many do, that this work isn't genuinely Augustine's. It wasn't listed among Augustine's writings, and it lacks his usual clarity and structure, presenting instead a disorganized collection of quotations. Yet, Pighius tries to use this work to support his position.

Let's see what Pighius wants to accomplish by appealing to this dubious text. He claims it shows Augustine endorsing free choice, not as a personal opinion but as a belief that all Christians must accept. But what does this book actually say? It suggests that, even after the fall, we still have some power to choose, with three conditions: (1) that this ability exists only when God calls us to

salvation; (2) that we have the power to assent to divine influence; and (3) that staying faithful is a joint effort of our own vigilance and God's help.

Yet this supposed "Augustine" contradicts himself. For instance, he quotes the synod at Milevis, which declared that God creates in us the desire for cleansing from sin, leaving no room for an independent choice. He also says that God works in us so that we will and act according to His will, which doesn't align with the idea that we have independent power to choose good or evil. These statements don't match Augustine's authentic teachings on grace.

Finally, Pighius refers to a public speech attributed to Augustine, claiming it shows support for free choice by stating, "we are able both not to sin and to sin." But this is questionable. True Augustine scholars would see that this doesn't match his mature views. If the writer means we can avoid sin purely by our choice, then he is mistaken, even by Augustine's standards. However, if this ability not to sin is due to God's grace, then it fits Augustine's beliefs. Augustine acknowledged that, theoretically, God could keep us from sin, but this doesn't occur in reality according to Scripture.

After presenting what he believes to be solid arguments, Pighius celebrates as if he has won a great victory. He seems satisfied with gaining applause from those few who, despite knowing they cannot defeat God's truth, look for ways to delay or resist it. These people eagerly cheer on any attempt to challenge the truth, even if blindly.

However, I am confident that I've clarified this issue enough that anyone with sound judgment will see through Pighius's exaggerated claims. I believe I have thoroughly removed the false colors he used to misrepresent Augustine as being opposed to us.

Some might want me to further prove my claim that Augustine supports our position. While the evidence is plentiful, gathering all of it would require a large volume—Augustine's books to Boniface, Prosper, Hilary, and Valentinus, along with Nature and Grace, The Perfection of Righteousness, and other letters, are filled with teachings that align with ours. However, instead of lengthy citations, I will provide a brief summary from a few key passages. These should remove any doubt about Augustine's agreement with us, especially using works Pighius himself considers trustworthy, so he cannot claim that Augustine's statements were made impulsively or without serious intent.

First, we affirm that human understanding is clouded by blindness, making it impossible to know the truth on its own, and that our will is corrupted, so we cannot love or obey God. Pighius rejects these teachings, but let's see what Augustine says. In The Predestination of the Saints, Augustine admits he once believed it was within our power to accept the gospel upon hearing it. Later, convinced by Paul's words, "What do you have that you did not receive?" he came to understand that both the beginning and completion of faith are gifts from God. Augustine argues that even our first thoughts of good come from God, let alone the ability to believe.

To close any loopholes suggesting that faith is simply the result of general divine inspiration, Augustine clearly states that this gift is given to some and withheld from others. And while some argue that this difference is due to human will, Augustine insists it is solely by God's grace and predestination. Although God commands us to believe, Augustine acknowledges that even this faith is a gift from God, who promises to bring about in us what He commands.

Many people believe that humans can prepare themselves to receive God's grace by their own efforts—a view Pighius strongly supports. However, Augustine counters this by pointing to Paul's words: "What do you have that you did not receive?" Augustine notes that Paul himself, once an enemy of the faith, was converted not by his own will but by God's powerful grace, which turned him from a persecutor to a believer willing to endure persecution.

Augustine explains that God promises to work in us to do what He commands, not because of any merit in us but as an act of grace. Even Christ's role as Mediator shows this: human nature didn't earn its place in Christ through any merit but received it as a gift. Similarly, Augustine says, "The God who made Jesus the author and perfecter of faith also creates in us the beginning and completion of faith in Him."

Augustine refutes the idea that our will is responsible for asking, seeking, and knocking to receive grace. Instead, he argues, it is God's generosity that stirs us to ask and seek in the first place.

When asked whether we naturally have the freedom to choose good or evil, Augustine acknowledges that while we have a free will, it is only free for evil unless freed by the Son of God. He says, "The human will does not receive grace through freedom; rather, it gains freedom through grace." Without God's grace, we can do no true good, whether in thought, desire, or action.

Some suggest that God offers light and it's up to us to accept or reject it, as if our will has the final say. But Augustine firmly rejects this, saying that if God is the one who begins faith in us, we should not claim any part of it for ourselves. He criticizes those who want to divide faith between God and themselves, taking credit for the start of faith and leaving the rest to God. Instead, Augustine insists that

the entire work of faith is God's gift, not partly from us and partly from Him.

Augustine explains the role of God's grace in bringing people to faith in Christ. He writes that to "come to Christ" means to believe in Him, and this belief is granted by the Father. No one who learns from the Father fails to come to Christ, because it is God who makes them willing. Augustine emphasizes that faith is a gift from God, who removes a hardened heart and creates in us the ability to believe.

Some may ask why God does not teach everyone. Augustine responds by reminding us that if belief were purely a matter of human will, there would be no need for the church to pray for its enemies. Those who believe do so because God enables them inwardly, while those who do not believe hear the gospel only outwardly, without understanding. God is the one who grants belief to some and not to others, and no one can come to Christ unless drawn by the Father.

Faith, from beginning to end, is entirely a gift from God. Augustine says, "God promised to do what He commands of us, so that His promises depend on His power, not on ours." When God says, "I will put fear of me in their heart," it means He will ensure this fear is so strong that they remain faithful to Him.

Augustine further clarifies that while we are responsible for our actions, it is God who gives us the will to obey. We act and desire because God empowers us. For example, Christ prayed that Peter's faith would not fail, showing that God's grace keeps believers steadfast even in their own weakness.

In comparing Adam and Christ, Augustine illustrates two types of grace. The grace given to Adam allowed him to remain good if he chose to stay under God's influence. However, this grace did not

ensure he would want to remain faithful, and he was free to abandon it. In contrast, the grace given to believers in Christ is much greater. This grace not only gives the ability to desire and do good, but it also moves the will itself, causing believers to genuinely desire God. Through the Holy Spirit, believers overcome the desires of the flesh.

God does not merely offer support; He actively works within us so that we continue in faith. God's grace fires our will, giving us both the power and the desire to persevere. Without this grace, our weak wills would falter under temptation, but because of it, we are strengthened and upheld. Augustine concludes that God's grace supports us so fully that even in our weakness, we remain steadfast because of His unwavering assistance.

Will Pighius continue to accuse us for saying that God effectively directs human wills? We are simply following Augustine's teaching. Augustine unites the ideas of a desire for God and the perseverance to follow Him, saying, "After the fall of Adam, God made it solely His grace that brings a person to Him, and solely His grace that keeps them from departing." Augustine emphasizes that both the beginning and end of faith are entirely by God's grace, leaving no room for human boasting, while Pighius tries to make human effort the main factor.

Furthermore, all the grace we receive throughout life is given freely, not because we have earned it by responding well to previous gifts. Augustine affirms this, stating, "The grace to begin and to persevere to the end is not based on our merits, but on God's own wise and kind will, for those He predestined, He also called."

What can Pighius argue against this? He might accuse me of distorting Augustine's words, but I've provided quotes directly, and anyone can check the context from four key books of Augustine on

grace and free will. If anyone doubts, let them examine Grace and Free Choice, Rebuke and Grace, The Predestination of the Saints, and The Gift of Perseverance. I am confident these works will confirm that Augustine's teaching supports our view, not Pighius's.

Augustine teaches that, while the human will is indeed "free," it is free only to choose evil because it is bound to sin. Our will is corrupted and held captive until Christ frees us. This corruption is so extensive that, without God's intervention, we cannot even think of doing good. Thus, God does not wait for us to prepare ourselves to receive grace; He initiates entirely out of His mercy.

This grace is not given universally but only to those whom God chooses. Those who do not receive it remain bound to sin, lacking any ability to seek good on their own. And God's grace is not merely an option we can choose or reject; it transforms our hearts, making our once-evil will good, so that we necessarily desire what is good. God doesn't give this grace once and then leave us on our own—He continuously guides us, and our perseverance is as much a gift as our initial faith.

God directs us by His Spirit from the beginning of our faith to the end of our lives, and this guidance is based solely on His goodness, without any merit on our part. We have no merit in our works, our will, or even our thoughts.

If anything in this summary does not reflect Augustine's own words, I welcome judgment. But it is clear that our teaching aligns with Augustine's. Pighius can protest, but he cannot deny that Augustine's views support us.

Calvin's Response to Pighius On Book

Four [of Pighius]

In the introduction to his fourth book, Pighius begins with a triumphant declaration, claiming victory over our position. He argues that no one should believe anything based solely on Scripture, no matter how clear it appears, if it contradicts the united teaching of the church or the judgment of the early church fathers. He believes that while individuals may misinterpret Scripture, the church itself cannot err in matters of essential faith because it is the "pillar and support of the truth" (1 Timothy 3:15).

This is not a new claim; people throughout history who have opposed the church have often cloaked themselves in its name to gain authority. So, how do we distinguish the true church from the false? Pighius argues that we should rely on numbers, suggesting that the majority defines the true church. Yet, I believe this judgment should be based on God's Word, as the church is to be recognized by its adherence to Scripture, not by how it presents itself. If the Word of God is unclear, Pighius argues, certainty must come from the church's interpretation. But Scripture itself is the foundation, and as Paul states, the church is built upon the teachings of the apostles and prophets (Ephesians 2:20), not on its own authority.

Pighius may counter that the church's role is to interpret Scripture, but this claim is flawed. When identifying the true church, we should follow Christ's own rule: His sheep hear His voice (John 10:27). Thus, the church supports the truth only by faithfully guarding the teaching upon which it was founded. We should recognize as the true

church only the body that upholds this teaching. The bond between Christ and the church is forged by the truth of His Word, a bond that Pighius tries to break by placing the authority of the church above the authority of God's teaching, interpreting it as human preference dictates rather than as God delivered it.

Pighius's approach has another striking contradiction. He initially claims he will prove his argument from Scripture, but then avoids doing so, asserting instead that Scripture as a whole confirms human free will. He argues that, because Scripture teaches that God will judge each person according to their actions and contains laws and commands, it therefore proves the power of free choice.

If Pighius thinks Scripture teaches only about human free will and nothing else, he is missing a foundational part of the faith. He overlooks the essential promises of grace. When God commands us to follow His ways, He also promises to give us the ability to obey— He will provide the heart and strength we need. The law, commands, warnings, and encouragements in Scripture lead us to these promises, showing us that any good in us is solely by God's grace. Those who judge human ability by the law alone reveal their lack of understanding of the basic principles of faith.

Pighius claims that God's judgment wouldn't be fair unless He judged us according to our own merits. To this, Augustine responds, "Woe to the whole human race if God were to judge us by our merits alone!" God indeed promises a reward to His servants, but we must recognize that even the righteousness of the saints is a pure gift from God.

When Pighius's arguments from Scripture falter, he shifts to the teachings of church fathers like Origen and Tertullian, hoping their authority will lend support to his view. Even if we were to accept

their interpretations as binding—which we do not—it's clear that Pighius misrepresents them. When they say the law would be useless without the power to obey, they are not addressing humanity's fallen state. Our weakness comes from our own sinful choices, not from how we were originally created. Augustine himself answers these objections, saying that our current inability is due to our own fault, not God's design.

Pighius also misuses Augustine's earlier writings to suggest that Augustine believed we cannot be blamed for sins we cannot avoid. Augustine later clarified his views, noting that he revised his writings to reflect his growing understanding. In The Gift of Perseverance, he explains that while humanity fell through free will, the resulting corruption has turned our freedom into a form of bondage to sin. In The Perfection of Righteousness, he says, "Human choice led to sin, but now that choice has been corrupted, and freedom has become a necessity to sin."

Pighius claims that Augustine supports free choice whenever God commands or encourages us. It's true that Augustine discusses the connection between grace and free will, aiming to show that God's grace doesn't cancel human choice. But to understand Augustine's view, we need to grasp what he means by "free choice." Augustine is clear that, while people act by their own will, this will is naturally inclined only toward sin. It is grace alone that enables people to do good and persevere in it.

Augustine wrote that he was addressing those who denied free choice because they emphasized grace. He acknowledged that people act of their own accord, but he also warned that we must never defend free choice in a way that denies the need for God's grace. What Augustine means by free choice is not that we can do good on our own, but that,

left to ourselves, we can only sin. God is the source of all the good we do.

Augustine further explains that God's grace is not a reward for any good in us but is given freely, even when we have no merit. He describes how, when God regenerates us, He prepares the good works we are to do—our good works are not prepared by us but are gifts from God. Augustine also rejects the idea that people can prepare themselves to receive grace; instead, grace begins by removing our "stony heart," which is naturally resistant to God.

Regarding the law, Augustine answers those who argue that God wouldn't command what we can't do. He says God commands things beyond our natural ability to show us what we need to seek from Him. In Augustine's words: "We obey the commands if we are willing, but because God prepares the will, we should pray to Him to help us desire His will. We act when we act, but it is God who gives the will the power to act."

In conclusion, Augustine insists that God changes our will from evil to good and sustains it. He teaches that God not only holds power over the wills of those who do good but also influences those who resist Him, turning even their hearts according to His purposes. While God does not create evil, He can direct those with hardened hearts toward His goals.

Pighius mocks us, saying we close our eyes to the truth, while in fact, it's clear that Augustine believed grace transforms and sustains the human will. Augustine did not attribute to free choice the power to do good apart from God's intervention.

In my Institutes, after explaining our teaching, I addressed the usual arguments of those who oppose it. Now, Pighius tries to show that

my responses are weak, incomplete, or irrelevant. He does this by setting up a dialogue where he presents me as a speaker, but he interrupts or alters the conversation whenever it benefits his case.

In Institutes, I had noted that some critics pile up supposed "absurdities" against our teachings, claiming they defy common sense, and then attack with Scripture. I stated that I would respond to both kinds of attacks. In response, Pighius dramatically criticizes my confidence, accusing me of attempting to challenge the revered saints of old.

But I am not at odds with the ancient fathers; my opposition is to Pighius and those like him, who distort and desecrate God's saving truth, sometimes trampling it underfoot and sometimes tearing it apart with hostility.

If I were to engage with all his excessive words, it would be endless. Instead, I ask readers to stay focused on the main issue. If they do, I will ensure that my answers are complete and clear.

The first "absurdity" Pighius raises is this: "If sin is necessary, then it's no longer sin; if it's voluntary, it must be avoidable." I noted in Institutes that Pelagius once used this argument to challenge Augustine, and Pighius ridicules me for mentioning it. Yet Augustine clearly addressed this very issue in The Perfection of Righteousness. Pelagius's argument is not new, as Roman Catholic theologians today use it against us just as Pelagius did with Augustine.

In Institutes, I explained that our inability to avoid sin does not absolve us of responsibility. If we were to claim we cannot help but sin, God would answer, as He did to Israel: "Your ruin is your own; only in me is your help" (Hosea 13:9). Our inability to do good stems from the corruption of our nature—a corruption that came because

of humanity's rebellion against God. Since we all share in Adam's rebellion, the necessity of sinning does not excuse us but is instead the very basis of our condemnation.

Pighius mocks this response, insisting that if God commands something, we must be able to do it freely. He repeats his claim that the law would be meaningless if it demanded what we cannot fulfill and that free will must be capable of both good and evil. But Augustine, who is a faithful interpreter of the fathers, teaches that our inability is a result of our fallen nature—a condition we brought upon ourselves through Adam. Augustine says that this "necessity" of sin is, in fact, a punishment for our sin, which rightly deserves blame.

Pighius also argues that if sin is voluntary, it must be avoidable. I responded by denying that "voluntary" means "free." He tries to use Augustine against me, claiming that Augustine agrees with him everywhere. However, Augustine was clear that while sin is voluntary, it is only avoidable if we are first healed by God's grace. In our current corrupt state, we are bound to sin, yet it remains our responsibility.

In short, Augustine teaches that sin would indeed be avoidable if we were whole and healthy. But as it is, our nature is corrupted, so we can only avoid sin by God's grace. Pighius's arguments fall apart because he refuses to acknowledge this corruption and instead believes that human nature is still capable of choosing good without God's help.

Coercion and Necessity

Since I've often mentioned the distinction between coercion and necessity, which is central to this discussion, let's look at it more

closely. Those who defend free will over grace argue that if something is necessary, it cannot be sinful or virtuous. But we respond by pointing out that God is necessarily good, yet His goodness is no less praiseworthy because it's unchanging. Similarly, the devil is necessarily evil, yet his wickedness is no less blameworthy.

Pighius tries to counter this by claiming that humans are different from God; he argues that qualities that are "necessary" in created beings do not bring them praise or blame because such qualities are a result of their created nature. He insists that only actions freely chosen bring merit. However, we aren't saying that necessity negates human responsibility. Rather, we're showing that necessity and responsibility can coexist, as we see in the unchanging goodness of God, which is worthy of praise.

Pighius also claims that God does nothing out of necessity, only by free will. But this kind of thinking is misguided and borders on blasphemy, as it separates God's nature from His actions. God's goodness, wisdom, and power are so united that He wills what He is by nature. His will and His nature are not divided. So, just as God is necessarily good, He also wills to be good, not out of coercion but out of the highest degree of willingness. We might even call it "freedom," in the sense that it is self-determined.

Pighius also tries to dismiss our example of the devil by saying that his necessity to do evil is a consequence of his original sin, which he committed freely. But this applies equally to humanity. We teach that humanity's bondage to sin comes from our fallen state, not from our original nature. The difference is that while the devil's bondage is eternal, humanity has hope of liberation through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Finally, Pighius admits that necessity isn't incompatible with will in itself but claims it conflicts with the will of those still on earth. He thinks this will help his case, but we see no reason to accept this distinction as valid.

Pighius claims that Augustine only connects necessity with the human will when speaking about "pilgrims" or those still on earth. But Augustine actually speaks of this necessity in reference to Adam before the Fall, a burden which now affects all his descendants. Augustine, Prosper, and Bernard all teach that since the Fall, we are subject to this "yoke of necessity" from which we would otherwise be free.

Let's define necessity: it is a fixed state in which something cannot be other than it is. For instance, God is good of necessity—His goodness is unchangeable. This necessity doesn't mean coercion; God freely and willingly is good, but He could not be otherwise. Likewise, the devil is necessarily evil, yet he acts in this way willingly.

This shows that necessity and free will can sometimes coexist. For humans, we are "bad branches from a bad root"—in other words, because we are born in sin, we can only act according to our sinful nature. We cannot turn from evil to good on our own; it's beyond our power. However, this necessity to sin does not excuse us because it's rooted in the original, voluntary decision of Adam to disobey God.

Even Aristotle, a pagan philosopher, recognized this: he observed that while a person might be forced into a state (like sickness), he often enters that state willingly. For example, if a person's poor choices led to illness, he cannot easily cure himself once he's sick, but his choices at the start made it so. In the same way, when someone throws a stone, they can't take it back once it's in the air, but they chose to throw it.

For Christians, this idea is foundational. Adam's sin corrupted not only himself but also all of humanity. This corruption is now ingrained in our nature, and though we can no longer avoid sin, it remains voluntary because we are born into a state we cannot escape on our own. Therefore, sin, though inevitable for us, is still our responsibility.

The second "absurdity" our opponents raise is this: "Unless virtues and vices come from a freely chosen decision, it wouldn't be right to punish or reward people." Before addressing this, I noted that, while this argument originated with Aristotle, it was adopted by theologians like Chrysostom and Jerome. Pighius argues that his view differs significantly from Pelagius, yet this doesn't change the fact that the Pelagians also used this argument, even if expressed slightly differently.

Pighius also criticizes me for only mentioning two names, as if I was obligated to list everyone who held this view. In truth, I had limited resources available to me when writing, and I mentioned the names I could recall.

Regarding punishment, I respond that it's rightly applied to those responsible for sin, regardless of whether they sin freely or in bondage, as long as it's voluntary. Pighius insists that "voluntary" must mean "within our power." But, like Augustine, I counter that this freedom was only available when our nature was sound, and humanity lost this freedom when Adam misused it.

As for rewards, I argue that they depend on God's kindness, not on human merit. Pighius dismisses this as blasphemy, saying that rewards imply both service and merit. I agree about service, but if by "merit" he means worthiness, I disagree; if he simply means obedience accepted by God, then I have no issue.

Pighius references Paul's words about the "crown of righteousness" awarded by the righteous Judge. But, as Augustine says, "To whom could the righteous Judge award the earned crown, unless the merciful Father first gave unearned grace?" We agree that Christian life involves labor and struggle, requiring our full commitment. The question is whether we fight with our own strength or if God supplies the courage, skill, and strength.

Pighius allows only a small role for God's grace, claiming most of the effort is ours. But I hold that God fulfills His promise to Israel: while we rest in Him, He fights for us (Exodus 14:14). This doesn't mean we do nothing; rather, we act while being moved by God. We will as He guides our hearts, strive as He strengthens us, and succeed only because He enables us. We are living tools in His hands, while He is the leader and finisher of the work.

The second "absurdity" raised by our opponents is this: "If virtues and vices don't come from free choice, then it would be improper to punish or reward people." Before addressing this, I noted that, though this idea originated with Aristotle, it was later adopted by figures like Chrysostom and Jerome, and even used by the Pelagians. Pighius tries to distinguish his view from Pelagius, but this doesn't change the fact that both use similar reasoning.

Pighius also criticizes me for only citing two names. He seems to expect a full list of every person who held this view, but I only had limited resources at the time. I mentioned the few I could recall.

On the question of punishment, I argue that punishment is justly applied to those responsible for sin, regardless of whether their judgment is free or constrained, as long as it's voluntary. Pighius agrees but insists that "voluntary" must mean fully within our

control. With Augustine, I counter that this freedom originally depended on a sound nature, which humanity lost when Adam fell.

As for rewards, I argue that they depend on God's kindness, not on human merit. Pighius dismisses this, saying that rewards imply both service and merit. I agree about service, but not about merit—unless he means merit simply as obedience accepted by God.

Pighius brings up Paul's reference to the "crown of righteousness" given by God. Yet, as Augustine says, "How could the righteous Judge award the earned crown unless the merciful Father first gave unearned grace?" While our Christian journey does involve labor and struggle, the question is whether we strive by our own strength or by God's provision. Pighius allows only a small role for God's grace, claiming the greater part is ours. I believe instead that God's promise to Israel applies to us: while we rest in Him, He fights for us (Exodus 14:14).

This does not mean we do nothing; rather, we act while being empowered by God. We will as He guides us, strive as He strengthens us, and succeed as He enables us. We are living tools in His hands, while He remains the true leader and finisher of the work.

Pighius claims I distort Augustine's words when I quote him saying, "God crowns His own gifts in us." But Augustine says this often, making clear that any good in us is from God's grace. For example, in his letter to Sixtus, Augustine explains that even eternal life, given as a reward for our merits, is still called grace because these "merits" were themselves given to us by God.

Augustine opposed the Pelagians' idea that only the forgiveness of sins is a gift and taught that the very virtues rewarded by God are also His gifts. Pighius argues that this perspective doesn't abolish

merit but establishes it. In response, I note that while our merits are upheld, they are upheld as works of God's grace. The Spirit calls us to recognize that it is through God's mercy—not our own efforts—that we are chosen, called, and justified. Pighius rejects this, claiming God would be unjust if it were true, but this response is merely a slander against the Holy Spirit.

In the third "absurdity" raised by my opponents, they argue: "If good actions are not as much within our power as evil actions, then why do some people fall away from faith and good works, while others persevere?" My answer to this question is simple: the difference is rooted in God's free choice. Election is the foundation of our calling—not only in its beginning but also in its continuation and completion. This teaching isn't my own invention; it comes directly from Scripture, as Augustine also frequently taught.

Yet Pighius charges God with cruelty if this is indeed the case. In Institutes, I mention Paul's teaching that we shouldn't boast since everything we have, including our faith, is a gift from God (1 Corinthians 4:7). Paul's point is to eliminate human boasting and merit by showing that everything—even our good works—is due to God's grace, not our efforts.

Pighius dismisses this, claiming that Paul does not deny free will; instead, he merely states that all we are and have should be attributed to God. Pighius then ridicules my stance, saying that even he agrees that free choice is ultimately a gift from God, and he boasts of this "victory." But his argument is hollow, avoiding the substance of Paul's message. Like the ancient heretic Pelagius, he attempts to affirm grace superficially while undermining its true role in salvation.

Pelagius, when confronted, pretended to accept grace by calling it a reward given by God for no prior merit. But as Augustine pointed out, Paul isn't talking about the grace that simply creates us as humans but the grace that makes us righteous. This distinction is crucial: the grace that renews us and turns us toward God is fundamentally different from the grace that created us. Paul's teaching shows that these two should be kept distinct. Our fallen nature cannot be repaired by creation alone; it needs the specific, redeeming grace that heals and transforms us.

Pighius, by confusing God's universal grace in creation with the special grace of regeneration, avoids the real issue. Augustine observed that opponents of grace often hide behind the praise of "natural" human capacities to diminish the importance of God's transformative work in salvation.

Fourth "Absurdity"

In Institutes, I present a fourth objection often raised by my opponents: "Exhortations, warnings, and criticisms are pointless unless we have the power to obey." Pighius strengthens this argument by citing several early church writers who made similar points, even including some questionable sources. Tertullian and Irenaeus argued that God would not give us His law if we lacked the ability to obey it freely. But there is an important distinction between the abilities humanity was given at creation and what remains after the fall. Human nature has since been stripped of its original strength and is now in a state of spiritual poverty.

Pighius also enlists the Roman philosopher Cicero to support his view, but this is no help to his argument. The understanding of

human nature's inherited sinfulness and its need for grace was unknown to those like Cicero who relied on human reasoning alone. It's no wonder that philosophers and orators missed this truth.

In Institutes, I chose to address this question by quoting Augustine's words from his work Rebuke and Grace. Augustine wrote this book precisely to address similar objections raised against him. Yet Pighius accuses me of wrongly aligning Augustine's views with mine. How does he defend this accusation? Instead of addressing the relevant argument from Rebuke and Grace, he tries to distract readers by pointing to an unrelated work of Augustine's, in which Augustine explains that free choice can coexist with grace.

I have already discussed Augustine's teaching on free choice above, and here we are dealing with a different question. Why did Augustine write Rebuke and Grace? It was precisely to explain how God's grace operates even though we are unable to follow God's commands on our own. Rather than address this directly, Pighius distracts from the core issue, offering nothing of real substance.

Pighius gathers several quotes from Augustine's letters to Valentinus to argue that Augustine condemns both the absolute denial of free choice and any view that separates it from the grace of God. Pighius claims that Augustine takes a "moderate" position, saying that human will is indeed free but needs God's grace to truly know and do what is right.

I acknowledge that Augustine teaches the importance of both free choice and grace. However, it's clear that Augustine doesn't mean free choice in the sense that we can please God without His help. He means that humans possess a will that can choose good or evil, but that this will is inherently corrupt due to sin. It is only by God's grace that this will is transformed to desire and act in ways pleasing to

God. If you still have doubts about Augustine's position, I urge you to look at his other writings, especially his letter to Sixtus, where he clarifies how limited human choice is without grace.

Pighius then challenges me to prove that Augustine ever faced the objection that commands and exhortations are useless if people lack the ability to obey. In response, I refer him to Augustine's own writings, where he records similar objections from those who argued that if God works in us "to will and to do," then human commands and rebukes are pointless. These objections were indeed used by opponents to ridicule the teaching of grace.

Pighius claims that such objections would be better directed at my teachings than at Augustine's. I acknowledge that Augustine may not have deserved such criticism, but my point remains valid: Augustine did face these objections, and they reveal the tension people felt toward his teaching on grace. Pighius's fierce criticism here only serves to showcase his eagerness to win arguments, rather than to carefully understand and engage with the truth.

Now let's look at how Pighius tries to separate us from Augustine's views. He claims it would be foolish to teach, warn, or rebuke people if we believe that God, by one decree, extends His healing grace to some (the elect) while leaving others in their sinful state. Pighius argues that Augustine holds an entirely different view. But what does Augustine actually say?

Augustine teaches that all people are born in sin. He explains that rebuke serves a purpose: to stir a desire for change in those who are "children of the promise." Augustine writes, "By the rebuke that sounds outwardly, God also works inwardly, inspiring a desire for what is good—if the rebuked person is indeed one of God's chosen." He makes it clear that true change comes not merely from words or

warnings, but from God's Spirit working in the heart, and that this grace is given only to the elect, not to everyone.

Augustine goes on: "No one can be separated from the fallen mass of humanity unless they receive this gift of grace. Those who are chosen are called by God, not by their own choice but by His decision." He adds, "God knows who are truly His. Their faith, powered by love, will not fail—or if it does, God will restore them before life ends, counting them as those who persevere to the end. Those who will fall away from faith were never separated by God from the fallen mass and were not chosen or called according to His decision."

Finally, Augustine says that we, as humans, cannot know who is predestined and who is not, so we must treat everyone with the hope that they may be saved. We should rebuke all, as a form of spiritual medicine, hoping it might save them or prevent them from leading others astray. But, ultimately, it is God who makes the rebuke effective for those He has foreknown and predestined.

Now, it should be clear how unreliable Pighius's arguments are. Those who speak for hire seem unconcerned with the truth of their claims, as long as they keep talking. Pighius argues that objections against our belief—that God, by His decree alone, grants grace to some while passing by others—apply only to us and not to Augustine. Yet, Augustine speaks about this very issue throughout his writings.

Pighius claims that Augustine encourages people to "learn by the commandment what you should do, learn by rebuke that it's your own fault if you fall short, and learn by prayer where to find grace" (Romans 3:19-20). He wonders how I, Calvin, could say the same, since I teach that people cannot seek or desire grace until they receive it. However, Augustine repeatedly emphasizes God's sovereignty in conversion. For example, he says, "Could you be

converted unless you were called? If God hadn't called you when you were fleeing, you could not have returned" (Psalm 84). Augustine also states, "He calls us without our help" and declares that God is able "not only to make the unwilling willing but also to make the rebellious submissive." Augustine speaks this way frequently, which Pighius conveniently ignores.

When I address this criticism in Institutes, I point out that we are not alone in this teaching—Christ and the apostles also stand with us. They consistently show that human efforts are of no use in achieving good unless God enables us, yet they continue to command, encourage, and rebuke. This consistency shows that divine grace does not negate moral instruction; rather, it empowers us to respond.

Pighius mocks my appeal to Christ's teachings, claiming that Christ would oppose us because He knocks at the door of our hearts and lamented over Jerusalem's unwillingness to receive Him (Revelation 3:20; Matthew 23:37). Yet, I maintain that even though humanity is unable to respond to God apart from His Spirit, the call to repentance and obedience remains essential. Just because we depend entirely on God's grace does not remove the need for His commands.

Pighius also tries to use Paul's writings to show that Paul values free will alongside grace. He points out that Paul acknowledges our willing and our running (Romans 9:16). But if he truly understands Paul, he must also recognize that Paul says, "It is God who works in us both to will and to do" (Philippians 2:13). Both our will and actions are enabled by God's grace, showing that they don't rely on our natural ability alone.

Pighius claims that my teaching is so full of contradictions that it would be an endless task to address them all. He begins by presenting what he believes is a clear example of this supposed flaw. I teach that God works in His elect on two levels: outwardly through His Word and inwardly by His Spirit. By enlightening our minds through the Spirit and shaping our hearts to love and pursue righteousness, God makes us a new creation. At the same time, through His Word, He stirs up a desire in us to seek and pursue this renewal. Pighius argues that if the Word comes before the Spirit's work, it would be ineffective for an unregenerate heart; but if it comes after, it would seem unnecessary, as the believer would already be renewed.

In response, I explain that the Word is preached to those who are already being renewed by God. This preaching is not intended to initiate new birth repeatedly but to strengthen and grow the new life that God has already begun. Christian maturity is a lifelong process, not a single act. Thus, the preaching of the Word continues to have purpose as believers grow and are progressively transformed by God's grace.

Pighius further objects, claiming that my teaching leaves no room for people to seek God's Spirit before regeneration. But I answer that while the natural person is indeed blind to God, he can still be convicted by the Word, silencing his arguments against God. Paul himself teaches that "faith comes by hearing" (Romans 10:17), but also makes clear that true faith only arises when God reveals Himself to the heart. The Word, then, is like a seed sown in preaching; yet it only takes root, grows, and bears fruit when the Spirit works inwardly to give it life.

In short, I affirm that God's Word and Spirit work together in harmony. When the Spirit empowers the Word, He plants in us a desire for renewal. While we cannot dictate when or how God acts, we trust that He brings the Word and Spirit together to transform and mature His people in faith.

Scriptures Quoted against John Calvin

Our opponents often misuse certain Scriptures to argue against our teachings. In The Institutes, I explain how these passages are frequently twisted to convey a meaning that is foreign to their original intent. I organize these scriptures into several categories, beginning with those concerning God's commandments.

The argument from our opponents goes like this: "If God commands something, then surely we must have the power to fulfill it, or else He is setting us up to fail." To this, I respond that those who measure human ability by the commandments have a poor grasp of Scripture. Pighius and others argue that obedience to the law is possible; they claim this confidently because they have not considered deeply what obeying the law really requires. These so-called defenders of the law are quick to speak of human merit and perfection without having come close to obeying the law themselves, even in part. But if they truly understood what it means to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and strength" (Deut. 6:5), they would see how impossible it is for fallen humanity to fulfill this command while bound to mortal frailty.

Moreover, our point is not merely that humans cannot fully keep the law; we assert that they are incapable even of making a beginning in keeping it. The simplest aspects of righteousness are beyond human reach without God's grace, despite the way Pighius and others exalt human abilities.

If anyone doubts this, let them examine their own experience in the faith. Many Christians will find that they cannot, even with their best efforts, produce true righteousness on their own. As Paul teaches, "By the law comes knowledge of sin" (Rom. 3:20). When Paul asks if righteousness can be achieved through the law, he answers with a resounding "No," for the law brings only a heightened awareness of sin, not the power to overcome it. If humanity had the ability to keep the law on its own, Paul's argument would not hold.

In another passage, Paul explains that the law "came in to increase the trespass" (Rom. 5:20). This clearly implies that the law's purpose is not to empower obedience but to reveal sin. So, as Augustine rightly said, "By the law, we hear what God wants us to do; by grace, we are empowered to do it." The law alone produces hearers, but only grace produces doers. In another place, Augustine clarifies, "God's righteousness is not founded on the law's commands, which produce fear, but on the aid of Christ's grace, which alone fulfills the law's purpose for believers." Indeed, understanding this truth is at the very heart of what it means to be a Christian.

By this understanding, we affirm that God's commandments are holy and just, yet we depend entirely on His grace for the strength to fulfill them.

In The Institutes, I address certain arguments that our opponents use against us by distorting Scripture. They argue that if God commands something, we must naturally have the power to obey it, or else the command would be pointless. I respond by pointing out that those who gauge human strength by the commandments misunderstand Scripture. Pighius, for instance, boldly asserts that it is possible to keep the law—a claim he makes only because he has not truly grasped what the law requires. Those who declare that humans

can fulfill the law often don't realize what it actually means to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength" (Deut. 6:5). Such an all-consuming love is far beyond human capacity without divine help.

We affirm, not only that people are incapable of fully obeying the law, but that they cannot even begin to keep it. The smallest acts of genuine righteousness are beyond human strength if left to their own abilities. I do not wish for anyone to accept this based on my words alone; each believer can see this truth in their own experience of faith. Paul testifies that "through the law comes knowledge of sin" (Rom. 3:20), not the power to overcome it. He teaches that the law was given "to increase the trespass" (Rom. 5:20), revealing our weakness and showing us that the ability to obey does not come from within us.

As Augustine wisely noted, "The law enables us to hear what God wants, but only grace empowers us to do it." The law creates hearers of righteousness; grace creates doers. Another passage by Augustine further clarifies: "Righteousness does not come from the law's commands, which produce fear, but from Christ's grace, which alone fulfills what the law demands."

Pighius misinterprets my teaching when I say that the law is given to reveal what we should do, prompting us to ask the Lord for the strength to do it. He claims I contradict myself, arguing that if humans lack the strength to desire grace, then who would pray for it in the first place? I agree that God grants us the spirit of prayer itself. Paul teaches that "faith is the mother of prayer" (Rom. 10:14), so it is God who stirs us to call upon Him. However, God also uses the law as a means to convict and instruct, guiding us toward the grace we so desperately need.

Our opponents further argue that conditional promises in Scripture suggest that we have the power to fulfill these conditions ourselves. They reason that if God makes promises contingent on our actions, then it must be within our power to do what is required to receive these promises. I counter this by explaining that the promises serve different purposes for different people. To the unfaithful, the promises reveal their unworthiness, showing them what they lose by failing to honor God. For believers, the promises inspire a deeper reverence and desire for purity—not from reliance on their own strength, but by depending on the Spirit.

These promises, then, direct people to seek God's grace, which alone enables us to meet His call. Pighius disagrees, thinking this view makes people dependent on free will. He refers to Moses, who, after giving the law, says, "Today I have set before you life and death" (Deut. 30:19), as if implying that we can choose life of our own ability. Yet Paul teaches that, because of our sinful nature, the law that was intended to bring life leads to condemnation instead (Rom. 7:10).

The law indeed commands us, but we cannot fulfill it on our own. The law promises life to those who obey it fully, yet no one is able to strive after it by their own power. Paul, quoting the law's requirement to "do this and live," immediately directs us to Christ as our refuge, that we might receive God's promises freely by faith and not by works (Rom. 10:4; Gal. 3:11). Pighius argues that Moses instructs the people to obey "with all their might" (Deut. 30:14), but this command should serve to remind us of our duty and, when we realize our inability to fulfill it, to bring us to pray, "Give what you command, and then command whatever you will."

In The Institutes, I address another objection raised by our opponents regarding Scripture passages where God rebukes Israel, holding them responsible for their failure to receive His blessings. They argue that such rebukes are unfair if Israel had no power to obey God due to their sinfulness. They ask, "Why are we blamed if we wanted prosperity but could not attain it because sin ruled over us? How can it be just to condemn us for something we couldn't control?"

To this, I respond that blame rightly falls on the human will, corrupted as it is by inherited sin. The root of evil lies in our own hearts, and we cannot shift responsibility elsewhere. We cannot deflect accountability for our sin onto anyone else; the fault remains with us.

Pighius dismisses this response with his usual disdain, then directs his attention to a statement by Moses, where Moses tells Israel that God's commandment "is not far off, but in your mouth and in your heart" (Deut. 30:14). This seems, at first glance, to imply that they had the power to obey it. I addressed this passage in The Institutes, pointing out that if I had wanted to evade the argument superficially, I could have argued that Moses referred only to their ability to understand the law, not to keep it. But I went on to show, using Paul's teaching, that this passage ultimately points to the gospel rather than the law.

Pighius tries to refute this by insisting that Moses clearly speaks of the law. I am not surprised he opposes us so fiercely, given his hostility toward the Holy Spirit's interpretation through Paul. For Paul, inspired by the Spirit, interprets these words in Romans 10:6-8 as referring to the gospel. Paul explains that the law promises life only to those who fully obey its commands, whereas the gospel offers

a righteousness freely given by faith. Thus, Paul cites Moses' words, "The word is not far off," to describe the nearness of the gospel's promise, calling it "the word of faith."

Pighius objects, insisting that this text refers strictly to the law, and claims it would be absurd to apply it to the gospel. I agree that Moses spoke these words in the context of the law, but the law itself serves to lead us to Christ. On its own, the law's commands lead only to condemnation because human nature, corrupted by sin, cannot keep them. That is why Paul, rightly and in line with God's intent, applies this passage to the gospel, in which the promise is close and accessible, not because we earn it, but because it is offered freely by God.

Pighius, however, claims that God's commands are "mockery" if given to people who cannot obey due to their hardened hearts. But Paul calls the law a "ministry of death and condemnation" (2 Cor. 3:7-9) precisely because it reveals our inability and shows our need for a Savior. The law brings death unless it is written on our hearts through God's grace under the new covenant.

After making his claims, Pighius pronounces that he has proven Scripture opposes our teaching. Yet I suggest he might reconsider his arguments more humbly and with a clearer understanding of God's purpose in the law, which was to lead us to the gospel, showing us our need for the grace of Christ.

Calvin's Response to Pighius On Book

Five [of Pighius]

In his fifth book, Pighius once again brings up ancient heretics who misunderstood human free will, trying to portray his views as a balanced middle ground between competing extremes. He claims that our teachings are a mix of past errors, adding new, even worse doctrines, and compares us to heretics like Marcion, Valentinus, and the Manichees. According to him, we share with them the belief that human nature is inherently corrupt and, like Wyclif and Valla, view humanity as passive instruments, controlled solely by God's will without any freedom. Furthermore, Pighius charges that we teach a doctrine more severe than even the heretics held: that human nature, including that of the saints, is entirely corrupt and capable only of evil. He asserts that unlike us, these heretics at least believed in a partial goodness within human nature.

I have already addressed this unfounded accusation that aligns us with Marcion and the Manichees. While we do acknowledge that human nature is corrupted, the difference between our teaching and theirs is profound. Marcion and the Manichees taught that an inclination to evil is part of human nature's very essence, as though humanity was flawed from the beginning of creation. But our position is that human nature was originally created good and became corrupted only through humanity's own voluntary fall, not due to any divine influence. When we speak of human corruption, we affirm it is the result of a fall, and not an inherent defect.

Thus, while we and these heretics might use similar words to describe corruption, the similarity ends there. We do not attribute the origin of evil to creation itself but lay the responsibility on

humanity, who chose to disobey God. This fundamental difference is as vast as that between fire and water.

Pighius further accuses us of deserving the strongest condemnation because, he says, we denounce the entirety of human nature as corrupt. Yet, this accusation is unfounded. Since humanity sinned fully, with every part of our being, it is hardly surprising to say we are entirely fallen. However, it is important to understand that, unlike the heretics who blame this on an external, inherent flaw, we hold that human corruption stems from our own choice. Humanity is not a helpless victim of a flaw placed on it by God; rather, it is suffering the consequences of the willful disobedience of our first parent, Adam. Augustine himself supports this view, distinguishing orthodox teaching from that of the Manichees by affirming that sin is the result of human choice, not the design of the Creator.

Pighius even cites passages from my Institutes, which only reveal his slander for what it is. He claims that we say all people are inherently evil by nature, but we do not trace this evil back to God's creation. Rather, we assert that Adam's deliberate rebellion corrupted human nature. By his fall, Adam freely chose to become enslaved to sin, though he was initially created in freedom.

We affirm that the whole person is so affected by this corruption that, apart from divine grace, we cannot come to God on our own. This is precisely what God's Word teaches. Scripture often uses the word "flesh" to describe our unregenerate nature, and when contrasted with "Spirit," it clearly refers to our state before the transforming grace of God. Jesus himself, in John 3, declares, "That which is born of the flesh is flesh," underscoring our need to be spiritually reborn. If only part of us were corrupt, Jesus' words would

be self-contradictory, as one might argue that another, better part of us could attain righteousness.

Paul echoes this when he states, "I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh" (Romans 7:18), and he further explains, "The mind of the flesh is hostile to God" (Romans 8:7). Paul's testimony aligns with our view, acknowledging that human nature, left to itself, cannot submit to God's righteousness.

Paul's description in Romans 3 leaves no part of human nature untouched by condemnation. Thus, my teaching on humanity's corruption is not a personal opinion; it is grounded in the clear judgment of the Holy Spirit.

Following logically from this, I affirm that it is not in our power to prepare ourselves to receive the grace of God. Our entire conversion, from beginning to end, is a gift of God. Scripture makes this abundantly clear. When the Lord promises to replace our heart of stone with a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26), where is there room left for us to claim any preparation on our part? How can we, who are changed from unwilling to willing, from rebellious to obedient, credit ourselves with any readiness for this transformation?

The prophet Isaiah also confirms this truth when he speaks for God, saying, "I was found by those who did not seek me" (Isaiah 65:1). Although this statement initially refers to the Gentiles, it reflects how God calls all of us—by his initiative alone. It is God who seeks us, who turns us to himself. Even the thought of seeking him is beyond our capacity until he grants it to us, for as Paul says, we are unable even to think of anything good apart from God's grace (2 Corinthians 3:5).

Scripture further describes how God works in us. Like sheep, we all went astray, each to our own way, yet the Lord brought us back to himself (Isaiah 53:6). He allows no part of this saving work to be attributed to human effort. It is entirely his doing: he opens our blind eyes, leads us from darkness to light, renews our minds, and raises us from death to life (Ephesians 2:1-5). If we are spiritually dead, what could we possibly contribute to prepare for the gift of life?

Moving to the nature of grace itself, I assert that grace does not merely give us a choice to either accept or resist. It doesn't just assist our weakness. Rather, grace is the complete work of God in us. It is by grace alone that our hearts are transformed from stone to flesh, our wills are made new, and we are renewed in heart and mind to desire and pursue what is right. Paul affirms that God not only makes us able to will what is good, but he works in us to will it fully and to carry it out (Philippians 2:13). There is a significant difference between merely having the will to act and actually performing the good.

This divine work of grace is ongoing throughout our lives, not a single momentary act. It would be insufficient if God guided our hearts only once without continuing to support and strengthen us to persevere. On the subject of perseverance, we must remember two key points. First, we should not assume that we somehow cooperate with God by our own power when we follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Second, we should not think that subsequent grace is a reward for prior faithfulness, as though we earned further grace by how we used the first. No, God's grace is a continuous, freely given gift from start to finish. As Augustine explains, God rewards us with grace in exchange for grace, continually increasing his kindness to us with new blessings.

All of this is beautifully summarized by Paul: "It is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13). Paul does not refer to a single action but to a lifelong work, whose source is solely God's grace, flowing from his own goodness without regard to any merit on our part.

Pighius scoffs at my assertion that Augustine supports the teachings I present, dismissing it as though I've made baseless claims. However, everything I state is not only evident but can be clearly found, nearly word for word, in Augustine's writings. Augustine affirms that human nature is thoroughly corrupt. He writes, "Do not suppose that you achieve anything, except insofar as you are evil" (On Psalm 142). And again, "Just as the Spirit of life in Christ regenerates believers, so the body of death in Adam produces sinners" (The Merits and Forgiveness of Sins 3.2). Augustine's words show the contrast between life in the Spirit, which produces children of God, and life in the flesh, which results in sin and spiritual death.

I also maintain that God's grace initiates our salvation without any prior merit on our part. We cannot even desire God until he awakens that desire within us. Augustine says plainly, "God by his grace takes away the stony heart from unbelievers and preempts human merit" (Letter to Vitalis). This grace, he explains, "precedes the human will" rather than being granted as a reward for our own decision to seek God. Our will, broken as it is, cannot freely choose God until his grace acts upon it. Augustine further illustrates this by asking why we pray for unbelievers: "Is it so that grace is granted because of their good will? No, rather, we pray so that their evil will should be transformed into a good one." As Christ himself said, "No one can come to me unless the Father draws him" (John 6:44). Here, Augustine clarifies that God doesn't merely lead; he actively changes our unwilling hearts, making them willing.

Augustine also emphasizes the severe limitations of free will in our fallen state, stating, "Free choice is capable only of sinning, as long as it is a prisoner" (To Boniface 3.8). In another passage, he writes, "How can anyone have a good purpose unless the Lord first has mercy on him, since a good will is precisely one prepared by the Lord?" (The Predestination of the Saints 19). Augustine consistently argues that God, moved by his own goodness rather than any human merit, initiates and sustains our transformation.

In all these statements, Augustine affirms that our salvation is entirely a work of God's free and sovereign grace, which goes before, creates, and upholds our desire and capacity for faith.

In my teaching, I argue that God does not merely give man the choice to do good if he desires. Instead, God powerfully stirs and guides the heart to desire and act according to His will. Augustine supports this view, explaining that God's will initiates our transformation from unbelief to faith, granting the desire to obey and the strength to persevere (The Gift of Perseverance, ch. 22).

Augustine contrasts the grace given to Adam with the greater grace offered through Christ. Adam was initially given the capacity to remain good if he chose, but he could abandon that grace through free will. In Christ, however, the grace given is even greater—it not only enables a person to desire good but actively causes them to will and pursue it with a steadfast love that overcomes fleshly desires. Augustine says that while Adam's grace showed the possibility of free choice, the grace in Christ is so abundant that it secures both the will and the ability to remain faithful (Rebuke and Grace, ch. 11).

As for perseverance, I affirm that just as the beginning of good works depends on God, so does their completion. God's power alone upholds the believer until the end, ensuring that the grace leading us

is maintained throughout life. Augustine echoes this: he attributes both the initial will to believe and the perseverance to the end entirely to God's grace. For, as he notes, the end of life lies in God's control, and only God can ensure that one's heart remains steadfast (Letter to Vitalis). Augustine writes that God puts a fear in the hearts of His people so great that they will cling to Him continually (The Gift of Perseverance, ch. 7).

Furthermore, Augustine teaches that even when man's free will was uncorrupted, it could not achieve good without God's grace. After the fall, Augustine asserts, it is solely by God's grace that one can turn to Him and remain with Him. He states, "The grace to begin and to persevere to the end is granted according to God's secret, just, and merciful will, not according to our merits" (The Gift of Perseverance, ch. 13). Ultimately, Augustine sums up that "the grace of God is the whole merit of the saints" (Rebuke and Grace, ch. 7).

So, if I rely on Augustine's insights, it is because he so clearly affirms the truth of grace—that from beginning to end, our salvation is God's gift alone, dependent neither on human merit nor on any independent strength within us.

The final point that frustrates Pighius is my statement that even after regeneration, the soul of a believer remains divided. He dismisses this as a mere fantasy, but such an idea should be clear to every Christian. The apostle Paul himself explains this internal conflict in Romans 7. There, Paul speaks personally, lamenting the inner struggle common to all believers: although he desires to do good, he finds himself often unable to carry it out fully. With his mind, he agrees with God's law, yet his flesh is drawn toward sin. This tension results in a divided will, where he fails to do the good he loves and instead finds himself doing the evil he despises (Rom. 7:15-20).

Paul's agreement with righteousness shows that his will aligns with God's law. So, what hinders him from acting on it? Only a conflicting desire within him, one that arises from remnants of the "old self." In Romans 6, Paul speaks of the "old self" as crucified with Christ. However, while this "old self" no longer reigns, it has not been utterly destroyed and continues to create inner conflict. Paul uses "old self" to describe the parts of our nature not yet renewed by the Spirit (Eph. 4:22-24).

Paul speaks vividly of this struggle: opposing desires pull him back and forth, delaying him from running freely in righteousness. He attributes this resistance to sin living within him, and specifies that this sin resides in the "flesh." By "flesh," Paul does not mean the body alone, for the body itself has no moral inclinations. Instead, he refers to the aspect of human nature not yet fully transformed, which holds onto earthly desires.

So, where does this resistance come from? It stems from the fact that, though the Spirit is renewing us, our mind and will are not yet wholly reformed. Parts of us still bear marks of the old, earthly desires. This is why our will often opposes itself, one part wanting to obey God and another resisting. Thus, it is not only reasonable but accurate to say that even the regenerate soul is "divided." Indeed, who among us does not feel this very struggle within?

A Middle Way?

In his fifth book, Pighius sets out to show that his teaching occupies a balanced middle ground between the extremes of Pelagianism and our own views on human nature and grace. He claims that Pelagians deny the grace of God entirely, while we supposedly deny human free will altogether. Pighius then presents his position as a blend of both views, suggesting that free will and grace work together. To lend

credibility to his view, he calls it a "definition of the church," citing Augustine as his authority. Yet, he has selectively gathered quotes from Augustine, often from questionable sources, in an attempt to support his argument.

Pighius points to The Merits and Forgiveness of Sins, where he claims that Augustine does not reject free will but only criticizes the Pelagians for overstating it. However, it's important to note that this was Augustine's first work against Pelagianism, so he was only beginning to address the issue, not yet engaging in depth. But even here, Augustine's primary concern was the nature of grace, which he believed came from God alone, even if he allowed the term "free will" to remain in common usage.

To understand Augustine's view on the role of free will, Pighius notes that Augustine says no one sins unless they choose to. We agree—sin does indeed arise from the will. Pighius also claims that Augustine taught that God only commands what lies within our power. This would be true if we consider "power" as the special ability God bestows upon his chosen, rather than an ability innate to our nature. Augustine clarifies this when he compares grace to sunlight. Just as light allows the eye to see, God's grace enables the will to turn to Him. Recognizing that his analogy might suggest human autonomy, Augustine further clarifies that God actually helps us turn to Him, something external light cannot do for the physical eye.

Pighius tries to argue that Augustine saw God's help as conditional on our own effort. But Augustine's meaning here is that God does not force people like animals or stones; rather, He transforms us from within, working through our will, making it voluntary yet fully dependent on His grace. Pighius selectively quotes Augustine to suggest that Augustine expects people to strive by their own efforts.

Yet in that very work, Augustine plainly states that, while humanity once had the ability to pursue righteousness naturally, our fallen state now makes obedience difficult. Thus, Augustine teaches that, though God calls us to strive and pray, even this striving is a gift from Him.

Pighius argues that Scripture supports his view of a combined operation of free will and grace by quoting passages that suggest people have free choice, alongside others that point to God as the source of all good that is in us. However, I have already explained the core meaning behind this "balance" he proposes. It rests on two truths: first, that people sin by their own willing, so they bear full responsibility for their actions; and second, that when God guides a person to do good, He doesn't override their will but instead transforms it so that they desire and pursue what is good.

Augustine himself teaches this: the will, corrupted by nature, stubbornly resists God's righteousness until grace changes it, making it delight in what it once resisted. This is precisely our stance. Pighius tries to argue otherwise, but his claims are too thin to deceive even the simplest mind, for it is obvious how closely Augustine's words align with ours.

Pighius next offers his supposed "church definition" of free will. He begins with a list of ways grace is understood, a review that adds nothing new, as these concepts have been covered by others before him, including our own teachers. Yet, he carelessly injects his own thoughts in a way that distorts the truth. He then attempts to address the corruption of human nature inherited from Adam, although this foundational topic is one he had previously dismissed as too obscure for the current discussion.

Originally, Pighius argued that free will was a clear doctrine, while original sin was complex and unnecessary to address. But the truth of the matter has forced him to acknowledge the reality he tried to avoid: understanding free will and grace requires recognizing humanity's fallen condition. He grudgingly agrees that humanity lost its original freedom through Adam's fall, becoming enslaved to sin. But while we affirm that this fallen state means people lack the power to choose righteousness on their own, he insists on maintaining some innate ability to choose God's grace—an ability Scripture does not support.

Ultimately, even as Pighius wears himself out to prove his point, he arrives only at truths that we, and Augustine before us, have already affirmed: that while humanity is bound by sin, it is grace alone that liberates the will to seek and choose God.

To avoid over-explaining Pighius' arguments, I'll simply address the main points of his position. He considers it absurd and even impious for us to teach that human nature is so deeply corrupted by original sin that a person cannot avoid sinning. He insists that our natural abilities were not destroyed by sin, but only the additional gift of grace, which God initially bestowed, was removed.

Pighius frequently claims Augustine as a supporter of this view, but Augustine himself clearly distinguishes between human nature as originally created by God and human nature as it is now—corrupted. Augustine emphasizes that we are to consider the current, fallen state of humanity rather than the untainted nature given in creation. Yet Pighius denies any loss or corruption of our nature, a belief central to the Pelagian heresy which Augustine tirelessly refuted. Pelagius claimed that human nature remains intact, while Augustine insisted that it has been severely wounded and corrupted by sin.

Pighius argues that mortality and corruption in the human body stem from the natural composition of our physical elements, rather than from any flaw or consequence of sin. By this logic, one might argue that the resurrected body would still be mortal since it is also made of elements. Yet, if he conceded that the perfection God gave humanity at creation was a divine gift rather than a self-sustaining trait, his view might hold more weight. Paul teaches that immortality belongs to God alone, meaning that while the soul is not naturally immortal, God sustains it in life.

When Paul explains the origin of death, he attributes it to sin, not to nature itself. Death was not inherent to human nature but was brought about by man's rebellion. Thus, while freedom from death was the natural state of humanity as created, our current mortality is a result of the fall. This straightforward teaching opposes Pighius' complex reasoning, which claims that the natural desires of the flesh that disrupt our pursuit of righteousness are simply part of our original, good nature rather than a result of sin's corruption.

Pighius, in accusing us of being Manichees, ironically confesses views that align closer to them than to any orthodox Christian teaching. He repeatedly accuses us of condemning human nature by claiming that all sin comes from a corrupted nature. Yet he himself teaches that the rebellion of the flesh—the desire opposing reason and righteousness—existed in human nature even before sin. By this view, Pighius implies that sin is intrinsic to human nature itself, essentially placing fault with God as the creator of this rebellion. His claim echoes the very teachings of the Manichees, who argued that evil is woven into the essence of creation.

When Pighius declares that humanity lost nothing of its natural goodness at the Fall but merely the "supernatural gifts" of God, he

reveals his confusion. He fails to distinguish the original integrity of human nature from the corrupt state it now holds. In short, he cannot see that what remains in human nature—our faculties and emotions—are the same, yet marred by sin.

To clarify, we affirm that feelings like marital love, parental love, joy, and sorrow are natural and were given in creation. But the chaotic impulses and uncontrolled desires that push us toward evil are products of our fallen condition, not part of God's original design. Augustine speaks to this, noting that our desire in its corrupted state is no longer pure will but rather lust—a will without proper bounds. For instance, the love between parent and child or between husband and wife, which should be pure and praiseworthy, is now often tainted by self-centeredness or impurity.

Thus, from the root of our fallen nature, no action is fully clean. As the will itself is corrupted, so it produces only what is stained and defiled. This is not a condemnation of God's original creation but a recognition that, through the Fall, our entire nature has been tainted, and we are in need of God's grace to be made whole again.

Our teaching is clear: humanity's fallen nature is so deeply corrupted by sin that it cannot produce anything truly good. Even when we pursue what is noble, the remnants of sin taint our desires. If even our honorable pursuits are marred by sin, how much more when we are drawn toward evil? Scripture consistently affirms this brokenness. Pighius, however, refuses to see this distinction between pure and corrupted nature. He argues that our view slanders God, suggesting it would be unjust for God to create a nature that could only sin. Yet, our sinful condition is not God's doing; it is the result of humanity's fall through Adam, who passed this curse onto us all. If Pighius fears that holding Adam responsible for our corruption

makes God appear unjust, his real quarrel is with the Word of God, where this truth is declared plainly.

In discussing human renewal, Pighius suggests that God's grace is available to those who desire it and reach for it, emphasizing human effort to seek, ask for, and respond to God's grace. He believes all people can receive grace if they are willing and argues that this approach respects God's grace without diminishing it. According to him, people can choose, by their own strength, to hate sin, seek forgiveness, and hope for grace. He dismisses our position as overly cautious, accusing us of distorting grace in an unnecessary and misguided defense against human pride.

However, Pighius's interpretation disregards the clarity of Scripture and the teaching of the early church. The Council of Orange, for instance, firmly condemned the idea that faith originates within us apart from God's work. The council declared heretical any teaching that God merely waits for our willingness to seek forgiveness, or that faith and the desire to believe are natural capacities. The council affirms that it is the Holy Spirit who moves us to even want to believe, to seek God, and to turn from sin. Without this divine work, we remain spiritually powerless, unable to please God or turn to Him on our own.

The council's decrees also reject the notion that humanity retained any spiritual freedom after the fall. If anyone claims that the soul's freedom was not affected by Adam's sin, he is misled by Pelagian error. Additionally, the council affirms that grace does not respond to human requests but rather inspires them, echoing the prophet Isaiah who says that it is God's Spirit that prompts us to call upon Him.

These teachings make it clear: any good within us, including our faith and desire for God, is a gift from His grace, not the result of our own will. Without God's sovereign work in us, we could only produce sin and falsehood. Thus, grace is wholly of God, and all credit for any goodness, faith, or repentance belongs solely to Him.

Let Pighius show me even one part of his teaching that isn't already condemned by the decrees of the church! And if he disregards the council's authority, perhaps he'll take to heart that those bishops who signed the decrees didn't see themselves as the authors of these doctrines but as affirming them, having received them from the apostolic see. This very see, which Pighius claims speaks with authority as if from heaven itself, has already pronounced anathema against views like his. What will he say to that?

Pighius claims repeatedly that he has nothing in common with the Pelagians. But if he believes this, he must be inventing his own version of them. Not only does he closely resemble the Pelagians Augustine describes, but in some ways, he's even worse. Augustine records that some in Gaul, who differed from him on grace, at least believed that human beings were marked by Adam's sin and could be freed only through Christ's righteousness. They also affirmed that grace goes before human will, meaning that people are incapable of starting or finishing any good work on their own. When Augustine debated with these semi-Pelagians, he acknowledged their partial agreement but still found their views insufficient. Pighius, however, shouts that no one receives help from God without first preparing himself through will, hope, and seeking. So, where is the great divide between Pighius and the Pelagians he claims to denounce?

Pighius indeed criticizes Pelagius for suggesting that man can make God indebted to him. But what is his argument? He says that man,

even without fault, has nothing with which to demand eternal life from his Creator. And now, after sinning and falling into death's penalty, man can do even less to earn forgiveness or adoption. Pighius is so confident that he has dealt a fatal blow to Pelagianism that he mocks our attempts to defend God's grace. Yet, if we remove his statement about punishment, there's nothing left in his argument that would actually trouble Pelagius. In fact, Pighius even praises human nature with the same kind of lofty speech that Pelagius himself used when called to explain his beliefs about grace. "What is man, or what does he have, that he has not received from God?" Pelagius also declared. And if man has received all from God, what madness it would be for him to claim anything as his own. Yet, this very line of reasoning, far from disproving Pelagius, only shows Pighius standing in agreement with him, parroting the same ideas with different words.

Pighius claims he has removed from man the possibility of earning an obligation from God—something he asserts Pelagius taught. Yet, this seems to be an idea Pighius has invented, as Pelagius actually argued that any "obligation" on God's part came solely from His own promises, not from human merit. Pelagius taught that, by God's free choice, He set the value of human actions, not as if He owed anything by nature or law, but out of His boundless kindness. Pelagius did not attribute human merit to any independent virtue or righteousness, but fully credited it to God's grace. While echoing these very points, Pighius celebrates as though he has defeated Pelagianism.

Pighius argues that God's grace comes only to those who are prepared to receive it because, he reasons, a wise God would surely have a specific cause for giving grace to one person over another. But I respond, echoing Augustine: "Far be it that the choice should lie with the clay rather than the potter" (Rom. 9:21). God does indeed

have a reason for His actions, yet that reason lies hidden in His wisdom, which is beyond our limited understanding. While we honor God's wisdom with reverent awe, Pighius instead limits God's ways to what his own mind can grasp. This leads him to a dreadful conclusion: that if God shows mercy to one sinner and not another, He would be acting irrationally or even foolishly.

Scripture, however, presents a different view. God promises through Isaiah that He will be found by those who have not sought Him and will reveal Himself to those who were not searching for Him (Isa. 65:1). He did not make this promise to all indiscriminately but to some. If we consider how this was fulfilled in Paul's ministry to the Gentiles, we see that God did not wait for them to turn to Him. Instead, He drew to Himself those who were once alienated and rebellious.

For a clear example, look at the Ephesians. God showed them mercy not when they were seeking Him, but when they were "dead in sins," serving sinful desires, and living entirely according to the world (Eph. 2:1-3). If anyone wonders why God showed grace to the Ephesians and not to others, it is not because of any special inclination or goodness on their part. Paul states plainly: they were "by nature children of wrath, like the rest." God made no distinction based on anything within them but only because of His own mercy. As Paul teaches, "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy" (Rom. 9:15). Thus, God's choice and mercy rest not on any human preparation or worth but solely on His sovereign will, which is far above our understanding.

Pighius points to certain passages in Scripture that seem to imply God's grace is given only to those who prepare themselves for it. He refers to verses like, "To whom will I look except to him who is

humble and contrite in spirit, and trembles at my word?" (Isa. 66:2). Yes, God values humility, as David says that a "broken and contrite heart" is pleasing to Him (Ps. 51:17). But we must ask, where does this humility and reverence for God's word come from? Scripture and experience tell us that the human heart is naturally proud and self-assured until it is softened and humbled by God's Spirit. It is not through our own strength that we come to this humility; rather, it is the Spirit who prepares us to receive God's righteousness.

Jesus calls to Himself those who are weary and burdened, but it is He who opens our eyes to feel the weight of our sin (Matt. 11:28). Like the proverb, we acknowledge that true healing begins with recognizing the sickness. Christ indeed reveals Himself to us as the Healer, but only after we realize our need. This awareness—of our sickness, of God's holiness, and of our need for grace—does not come naturally. It is God who awakens us to see our sin and fear His judgment, stirring in us humility, repentance, and a longing for His mercy.

As Jeremiah prays, "Convert me, O Lord, and I shall be converted; after you led me to repentance, I turned back; I was ashamed and even struck my thigh in sorrow" (Jer. 31:18-19). Here, the prophet attributes every aspect of his conversion to God's work: the hatred of sin, the sorrow over offense, and the desire for grace. Where Pighius ascribes these things to human choice, Scripture and true experience attribute them entirely to the Spirit's transforming work.

Pighius argues that we are continually stirred and moved by God, but only if we first make an effort, if we cooperate with His grace and work hard ourselves. In dividing the responsibility in this way, he effectively leaves the main part of repentance within human control. But this view directly contradicts the words of the prophets, who

show that repentance in its entirety—starting with its first spark—is a work of God alone. While Pighius claims that grace fails only those who fail themselves, I agree with one clarification: all lack both good will and strength unless God provides them. When God does stir someone's heart to seek and follow Him, it is through His creating a new heart and renewing a right spirit within us (Ps. 51:10).

Later, Pighius introduces what he calls three distinct actions of God's grace: He says the first is "prevenient grace," by which God stirs our desire for justification and extends a helping hand. Yet this contradicts his own earlier assertion that God waits to grant grace until someone shows themselves humble and seeks His mercy. Surely if God stirs holy desires in a person, He has already begun to show them favor, even before any movement of their own will. When early theologians spoke of "prevenient grace," they understood it to mean God acts first, transforming the will on His own; Pighius, however, argues that we must contribute our willingness before grace can act. As Augustine rightly said, "Not only are the unwilling made willing, but rebels are made submissive." Augustine taught that grace makes our wills good; we do not come to God with goodness already in place.

Pighius further twists the words of Ezekiel, who proclaims God's promise to replace our "heart of stone" with a "heart of flesh," to mean that we must first be softened before God can help us. But Ezekiel's language is clear: God alone does this work, causing us to walk in His commandments (Ezek. 36:26-27). This transformation is not partial or dependent on human will but is the complete renewal that God Himself works within us. Pighius's view implies that God only assists us if we cooperate, yet Scripture shows that God alone brings us to faith, preparing our hearts to receive Him entirely by His own power.

Pighius overlooks that, according to Paul's words, God's grace is not just offered but made effective, producing both the will and the power to act according to His good pleasure (Phil. 2:13). Grace is not a mere invitation dependent on our willingness but an active force that brings about real transformation. Pighius tries to argue that grace leads to condemnation if rejected, quoting Paul, "Do you show contempt for the riches of His kindness, not realizing that God's kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?" (Rom. 2:4). But here Paul is addressing hypocrites—those who misuse God's kindness and think that God's favor means approval of their sin. In their presumption, they store up wrath rather than responding with repentance. Pighius wrongly conflates the general kindness of God, shown to all, with the specific, regenerating grace God gives to His elect.

Another of Pighius's arguments involves Christ's words: "I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him" (Rev. 3:20). Pighius takes this to mean that prevenient grace is available to all, and that we must take the step of opening our hearts to Christ. But Christ's "knocking" here refers to His calls and exhortations. The ability to "open" our hearts is also given by God. He alone can open the heart to understand and obey His call, as Scripture says: "I will circumcise your heart so that you will love the Lord" (Deut. 30:6). Moses likewise reminds the Israelites that their lack of spiritual sight and hearing is because "the Lord has not given you a heart to understand, or eyes to see, or ears to hear" (Deut. 29:4). Despite this, Pighius argues that, even if God helps, it still partially depends on us to respond. Yet, he provides no proof, only empty digressions.

In the end, Pighius's view reduces God's grace to an offer that we, by our own power, must complete. But Scripture affirms that it is God

who both calls and enables us to respond, for "salvation belongs to the Lord" (Ps. 3:8).

Pighius quotes the prophet Isaiah, "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the Lord will have mercy on him" (Isa. 55:7), to argue that turning away from sin is something within our control—an act we perform to open ourselves to God's mercy. But does this mean that conversion to God, which Scripture describes as a resurrection of the soul, is something we can accomplish by our own power? Pighius insists that we must make the first move for God to grant mercy, suggesting that God's grace comes as a response to our repentance.

Pighius also points to Paul's words, "The grace of God was not in vain in me" (1 Cor. 15:10), interpreting this to mean that man cooperates with God in spiritual growth. Yet, Pighius misses the key reason Paul says this. Paul, while acknowledging his own labor, immediately clarifies, "not I, but the grace of God that was with me." He attributes his work entirely to God's grace, ensuring there is no impression that he claims any credit for himself.

Pighius's argument is founded on an idea so fixed in his mind that he cannot see its contradictions. He insists that grace is available only if we first reach out for it, and that it becomes effective only if we sustain it with our own strength. Yet he also claims that all grace is a free gift from God, that God alone initiates and completes good works in us. He holds to these ideas simultaneously, as though they could fit together, when in reality, they are irreconcilable.

The problem lies in his core assumption: that God's grace is offered equally to all, but only to those who make themselves worthy of it. Pighius cannot see past this belief, even as it leads him to contradict himself, minimizing God's grace while elevating human nature. This tension prevents him from grasping the depth of God's work in our

transformation, which, as Augustine teaches, is entirely a gift of divine grace and not something we begin or sustain by our own power.

Pighius argues that God's grace must be offered equally to all, using Ezekiel's words, "I do not desire the death of anyone who dies; instead, let him turn and live" (Ezek. 18:32) as his basis. But if we interpret this as Pighius does, why, then, do some still perish, though God supposedly does not want anyone to die? Scripture declares that "God is in heaven; He has done whatever He pleases" (Ps. 115:3). Here lies a deep and complex issue if we interpret Ezekiel's words as a description of God's secret, ultimate will.

Augustine's interpretation helps here: God has provided all that is needed for salvation, holding out the path to life. The only obstacle is the sickness of human sin, not any lack of provision from God. In this sense, God indeed wills that people live, as he makes every effort for their return to Him. Yet, God's hidden plan remains—that He, in His wisdom, elects some while passing over others.

If Pighius understood this, he would see why it is misguided to insist that grace must be equally distributed to all. His stance, however, ultimately aligns with Pelagius, claiming that grace is dispensed according to human merit, implying that God's favor depends on us meeting certain conditions. By contrast, Augustine, whose words we affirm, teaches: "Those to whom grace is given will in such a way that they indeed fulfill what they will, while those who are not given grace either do not will at all, or cannot fulfill what they will" (Augustine, Grace and Free Will, ch. 4).

Our view thus returns to this clear distinction: true obedience and fulfillment of God's commands come only by His grace, not through any prior merit or strength within us.

In conclusion, Pighius' attempts to distance himself from Pelagius fail, as his arguments align closely with Pelagian ideas, which we have clearly demonstrated. At the same time, he tries to align us with the heretic Mani, despite the fact that our teachings differ as much from Mani's as they do from the church's historical faith. Although he hides behind an outward show of orthodoxy, discerning readers see through his pretense, recognizing that his views are at odds with true Christian doctrine.

Pighius also claims to take a "middle ground" by blending two irreconcilable ideas: that all good in people is fully God's work, yet at the same time, people supposedly possess the power to obtain grace by their own efforts and then make it effective by their strength. This is not a middle path but a confusion that leads only to spiritual entanglement. No amount of selective scriptural quotations can support his view, for all of Scripture attributes both faith and good works entirely to God's grace. While Scripture indeed praises those who live devout lives, it consistently gives God the credit for every good thing, identifying Him as the true source of righteousness, wisdom, and strength, and leaves humans with nothing apart from His grace.

Pighius also falsely suggests that, by emphasizing our dependence on grace, we turn people into "stones" without free agency. Yet we affirm that the mind sees—when illuminated by God, that judgment discerns—under the Spirit's guidance, that the heart wills—after being renewed by God's hand, and that people do indeed act and strive to obey, but only in the strength of the grace God provides.

Finally, his argument that God's goodness must be equally accessible to all misunderstands God's wisdom. Scripture shows that God's

goodness shines not by treating all identically but by revealing mercy in some and justice in others.

Pighius has no grounds to accuse us of promoting hatred by teaching that God's saving grace is given only to the elect. He claims this "limits" God's grace, but we understand that grace remains truly free because God chooses to give it to whomever He wills. If I were to examine each Scripture passage Pighius uses to argue against this point, it would be an endless task, given how often he distorts the meaning.

For example, Pighius cites the passage that says we all have one Father, God (Malachi 2:10), to argue that God is equally Father to all people. But this statement is directed to God's faithful people, Israel, and does not encompass all humanity. Similarly, he quotes David, who says God is "kind to all" and that His "mercies are over all His works" (Psalm 145:9). However, while God's kindness extends broadly, it does not imply that all receive the Spirit of regeneration. Even the creatures of the field experience His kindness, but only the elect are sanctified by the Spirit, transformed into holy temples for God by His sovereign grace.

Calvin's Response to Pighius On Book Six

[of Pighius]

In his sixth book, Pighius tries to address the strong counterarguments that we have used to defend our teaching. He says his aim is to refute these arguments, yet he quickly shifts to

distracting his readers from actually considering them. He urges his readers to ignore any scriptural passages that we bring forward by keeping them within the "fence" of church consensus, implying that stepping even slightly away from it is dangerous. But what if Scripture itself clearly teaches something different? Pighius insists that his readers remain unmoved, even if they see it plainly in the text, suggesting they should doubt their own eyes if Scripture appears to contradict church consensus.

Later, he regains his confidence, aiming to show that my arguments lack any real force. I had previously noted in The Institutes that for centuries it has been commonly believed that man possesses a freedom of will in all things, both good and evil—meaning that no one is compelled to sin, nor does anyone naturally incline toward the good apart from the Spirit of God. Pighius brings in a collection of ancient writers to prove that this view is the longstanding position of the church. However, his efforts are wasted, as I have already addressed and made peace with these writers in my earlier arguments.

Pighius distorts my teachings, making it appear that I advocate for coercion, even though I frequently stress that a work must be voluntary to be truly good or evil. I have worked diligently to clarify that our actions are not forced but shaped by God's work within us. The real dispute between Pighius and me lies in this: we both agree that God deserves credit for any good in us. Yet, when I describe God as actively forming and directing our hearts toward good, Pighius objects. He argues that while God is responsible for the beginning of good in us, part of the responsibility must remain with us.

When I reference Paul's words, "He who began a good work in you will complete it" (Phil. 1:6), and explain that God starts this work by

stirring our love for righteousness and guiding our hearts toward it, Pighius initially accepts my words. However, he objects to my description of God as "bending" and "directing" our hearts, finding these terms foreign. Yet, these are not new words; they are rooted in Scripture and have been used by the faithful throughout history. In Psalm 119, David prays, "Incline my heart to your testimonies." Similarly, Solomon declares, "The king's heart is like streams of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will" (Prov. 21:1).

Pighius further accuses me of promoting a new, strange language unfamiliar to believers, but his objection seems born of ignorance. He is offended by expressions that Scripture itself often uses and that the church fathers, especially Augustine, have employed. Yet, his complaint rests not on biblical teaching but on his own misunderstandings. Paul himself uses language that describes the heart as under God's guidance, and this is no new teaching—it is the very voice of the Spirit.

Pighius even goes so far as to say I depict God's influence on our hearts as a sort of possession, akin to the control evil spirits have over the possessed. This accusation is baseless. I have plainly stated that humans naturally have the will to act, but, due to sin's corruption, we tend toward evil on our own. Therefore, the ability to will rightly is a gift from God, not something that forces us against our will, but that lovingly transforms our desires.

Pighius accuses me of denying that human will can be good on its own, even with some assistance from grace. He claims I take this view too far by stating that God must completely transform the human heart to produce any good within it. I reference the prophet Ezekiel, where God says, "I will give you a new heart and put a new

spirit within you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" (Ezek. 36:26). By this, I mean that God does not merely support a human will that is naturally weak but inclined to good. Rather, He entirely renews it, for without this transformation, the human heart can yield no true good.

Pighius, however, dismisses this view, accusing me of leading people astray and of twisting Scripture. He argues that the command in Ezekiel for people to "cast away iniquities" and "make a new heart" (Ezek. 18:31) suggests human capability and responsibility. He insists that these commands imply that people can partly effect their own transformation, in cooperation with grace. He assumes that if God commands something, it must be possible by human effort, even if aided by grace.

Yet, Pighius overlooks a crucial truth: the purpose of God's law is to reveal human inability, not to confirm human capability. As Paul teaches, the law ultimately "kills" (2 Cor. 3:6) because, without God's Spirit, we are powerless to fulfill it. The law's commands are meant to humble us, leading us to seek grace when we see our failure and need.

This is why Jeremiah prophesies a new covenant, where God will not merely preach His commands externally but will inscribe them directly onto our hearts (Jer. 31:33). The old covenant, based on external commands, could not be kept due to human rebellion. The new covenant, however, promises that God will write His law within us, transforming us from the inside out through His Spirit.

If Pighius understood the depth of human weakness and our dependence on God, he would not assume that simply being commanded implies capability. Instead, he would recognize, as

Scripture shows, that true obedience is only possible through a heart transformed by the Spirit of God.

Pighius argues that if God's promises show conversion to be solely God's work, then the commandments imply that we can fully obey on our own without God's help, since the commandments place requirements on us without explicitly mentioning grace. But he misses the purpose of God's commandments entirely. The law is not meant to imply that we can fulfill it through our strength but to show us our weakness and lead us to rely on God's grace. In contrast, the promises show that God alone fulfills His work in us. He says, "I will give you a new heart; I will cause you to walk in my ways" (Ezek. 36:26-27). These promises place all responsibility on God and do not rely on human effort to be fulfilled.

By giving commands, God does not grant us new strength or commend any ability within us. Instead, He shows us our inability, so we realize we must look beyond ourselves for the help we need. Pighius's attempt to assign a "moderate" balance between God's work and our efforts is misguided. The promises point us to God's gracious work, while the law drives us to seek His grace by revealing our total insufficiency.

Pighius's idea that we work alongside God in our spiritual renewal is a dangerous mixture. He suggests that in the work of our soul's transformation, God and man have an equal role. According to him, God converts us, but we also convert ourselves; we crucify our sinful nature, yet God renews us. He draws this supposed equality from the fact that God commands us to do what He also promises to accomplish. However, God's promises assure us of what He alone will do. The commandments, on the other hand, reveal our lack of

power and are given to drive us to depend fully on God's strength, not on any imagined capacity of our own.

Pighius reacts strongly, almost as if he's struck with disbelief, when I say that describing the human heart as "stony" means that it must be completely transformed for any good to come from it. He assumes I am speaking of the heart's very substance rather than its nature or quality. He imagines I am suggesting the heart itself is literally stone before God changes it. But the prophet's metaphor of a "heart of stone" transformed into "a heart of flesh" clearly refers to a change in its nature or disposition, not in its material substance.

Pighius attempts to trap me with what he thinks is clever reasoning. Since I affirm that the heart, in Scripture, often represents the will, he argues that I must be claiming a transformation in the power or capacity to will itself. But Pighius mistakenly equates the ability to will with the moral character of that will. In my response, I draw a logical distinction that even a beginner in philosophy should understand: between the substance of the will (the ability to choose) and its moral inclination (how it wills).

Using simple categories, I laid out that the will itself remains constant in all people, but its character varies. The will can be inclined toward good or evil, depending on whether it is naturally corrupt or renewed by the Spirit of God. This distinction is not difficult to grasp and is foundational to the biblical teaching on the transformation of the heart.

David's plea to God, "Create in me a clean heart, O God" (Psalm 51:10), reflects the same understanding. David seeks not a new physical heart, nor a new power to will, but a renewed spirit inclined to righteousness. It is this profound change—a heart now inclined to obey God—that Scripture celebrates. In the end, Pighius's objections

fall flat, as he misunderstands both the intent of Scripture and the nature of true spiritual renewal.

In summary, I argue that the human will is not evil by God's design but is corrupted by sin. This corruption remains until God's grace transforms it through the Holy Spirit. This change is not a replacement of the will itself but a renewal of its disposition, making it inclined toward righteousness rather than rebellion. When David prays for a "new heart" (Psalm 51:10), he is asking for this inward transformation, not a replacement of his heart's substance. However, Pighius misunderstands, accusing me of suggesting that the heart's actual essence is altered.

Pighius interprets the biblical imagery of a "heart of stone" turning to "a heart of flesh" (Ezek. 36:26) as merely a call for us to soften our hearts, as though we have the power to make ourselves spiritually responsive. But the Scriptures show that God alone transforms our hardened hearts. In Ezekiel, the Lord speaks of removing the "heart of stone"—a metaphor for our natural, obstinate opposition to God— and giving a "heart of flesh," a new disposition that responds willingly to His commands. God promises to "cause" us to walk in His ways, not simply to give us the option. This transformation by grace leads us to actually follow His commands, not merely to have the potential to do so.

By downplaying this divine action, Pighius diminishes the power and necessity of grace. He limits God's promise to a mere enabling, implying that God's role is simply to make us capable of obedience without securing that obedience in us. But God declares that He will inscribe His law upon our hearts (Jer. 31:33), meaning He will actually shape us to love His righteousness. This is a transformation

of the will's disposition, enabling us to desire and act according to God's ways.

In contrast to Pighius's claim that spiritual hardness is merely a bad habit, Scripture reveals it as an innate rebellion within all humanity due to our corrupted nature. Only God's grace can change this condition, replacing our natural opposition with a heart ready to follow Him. This transformation is not something we can achieve on our own but is wholly a work of divine grace.

To clarify my point: the prophet makes it clear that human will isn't just weak and in need of extra help to desire what's good. Augustine explains this in Grace and Free Choice and his letter to Vitalis, arguing that our will doesn't start with any good impulse that God simply assists; rather, it is entirely corrupt and opposed to God until God transforms it.

When I say that "everything which is ours" must be removed in regeneration, Pighius misinterprets me to mean that both body and soul are annihilated when we turn to God. But this is not my meaning. Augustine expressed it well when he said that whatever righteousness we have is from God, while anything we can call our own is only sin (Homily on John 49). By "everything which is ours," I mean the sinful corruption that pervades our nature as a result of the fall, which affects every part of us.

Pighius then argues that if our reasoning and will need complete renewal, that would mean our very soul must be replaced, as reasoning and willing are inseparable from the soul. But he overlooks that these capacities can take on corrupted qualities due to sin. The soul itself doesn't need replacing, but its reasoning and willing are tainted by sin and need renewal. So, I maintain that, because sin has fully tainted our soul's powers, everything corrupted within us must

be remade. This doesn't mean a new soul, but a new, purified disposition within us.

To summarize my argument: I assert that the will, naturally turned away from God, is only brought to Him through God's power alone. The will plays no active role except as directed by God's Spirit. Augustine captures this truth, saying that the will follows rather than leads. In this view, any good desire in our will originates solely from the Spirit's renewal.

Pighius sees my view as an insult to God, claiming it implies that the will is bound to be separated from God because of a corrupted nature. However, I've already explained that humanity's sinful state is our own doing, not God's fault. Scripture consistently affirms the evil in human hearts, even without my input.

Pighius also challenges my claim that the will does not contribute to its own conversion unless it has been renewed. He asks, "If conversion depends solely on God's will—where, when, and how He chooses—why does He repeatedly call us to turn to Him?" Isn't it unjust, he argues, like asking a poor person to repay a debt they can't afford?

But God calls us to conversion in a different way than Pighius suggests. When God commands us to turn to Him, He is not making empty demands; rather, He prepares us by His command to receive His promise. Through His Spirit, God inscribes His words on our hearts, so the call to turn to Him isn't merely heard but made effective by the Spirit. This work, therefore, is both spoken and achieved by God Himself, who uses His call to transform us inwardly (2 Cor. 3). It's not for us to dictate to God how He should work but to submit to His wisdom in calling and converting us as He wills.

In response to Pighius's question about why God would offer His Word to the reprobate, who receive only a "dead letter" rather than true faith, I say this: God's instruction is always intended to bring salvation to those who believe. For those who reject it, however, it becomes a means of judgment rather than grace. Pighius, however, assumes that God wants all people to turn to Him equally and thus offers grace to everyone indiscriminately, making salvation dependent on their choice to accept or reject it. He interprets the prophetic calls to repentance—like "Return, and I will heal you" (Jeremiah 3:22) or "Return, and I will not turn my face away from you" (Jeremiah 18:11)—as if they imply that people must first turn on their own initiative for God to act.

I see these calls to repentance differently. They are assurances that if a person's heart turns back to God, He will forgive and restore them. But because repentance is, in essence, a "spiritual resurrection," I believe it is no more in a person's power to make this change on their own than to give themselves life. True repentance is God's work; it is a transformation that only He can accomplish.

Pighius then asks why the prophets call people to repentance if it is beyond human ability. The reason is that God has chosen to work through outward preaching, even though He is fully able to accomplish this inward change by His Spirit alone. When His Word is preached, God often writes these very truths on people's hearts, making His message spiritually alive and effective through the Holy Spirit.

Pighius also argues that God requires humility and repentance before He will show favor, citing Isaiah: "To whom will I have regard, but to the humble and broken of spirit?" (Isaiah 66:2). But this requirement doesn't conflict with God's sovereign grace. As I've

explained in my Institutes, God has regard for people in two ways: in one sense, He shows favor when He sees people's repentance and humility; in another, He extends grace even while they are still in rebellion against Him. For example, Paul tells us that the Romans and Ephesians were reconciled to God when they were still His enemies, living in sin and without hope. This pattern of God's mercy is evident throughout Paul's letters. Paul himself was transformed by God's intervention on the road to Damascus, not because he was seeking God but while he was actively opposing Him. God did not merely call out to Paul's ears; He inscribed His law of obedience onto Paul's heart by the Holy Spirit, making him willing where he had been unwilling.

So, I conclude that God, in His grace, transforms hearts and draws people to Himself, not because they prepare themselves, but by His sovereign initiative.

The prophet's words, "I was found by those who did not seek me," along with Paul's explanation that the Gentiles found righteousness though they were not seeking it, highlight that God often reaches out to those who had no prior pursuit of Him (Romans 10:20). This was true from the beginning, even for Abraham and his descendants, who initially were not seeking after God but were graciously drawn near by Him. This shows that God's acceptance of people happens in two ways. First, He loves and favors His chosen people even before they are called to Himself, and this love is given through Christ. Then, when He calls them, He reveals this love so they can recognize and enjoy it.

When God calls people to Himself, it is evident in their repentance and faith. The beginning of repentance involves a humble dissatisfaction with oneself, which leads to a softened, teachable

spirit. At this point, God shows His regard for people in a way they can personally understand; He reveals Himself as their Father, confirming His kindness to them.

However, Pighius argues that God simply encourages the sinner to turn but does not make him turn by His own power. According to Pighius, it is up to us to return to God, and only after we turn does God receive us and give us life. In this view, God's role is reduced to mere exhortation, as though He only urges us without actively enabling us. This teaching is essentially what Pelagius promoted— claiming that humans must take the initiative in returning to God, and God merely assists afterward. Even though Pighius admits that God provides help, he insists that man must first make the effort, giving man the lead role while relegating God to a secondary one.

A little later, Pighius goes even further than Pelagius in his views on how God converts us. He argues that God's method of converting people involves only outward actions—showing patience by withholding punishment, giving time for repentance, and using various means such as encouragement, blessings, and even discipline. In this view, the whole work of God's grace in conversion is limited to external influences, leaving out any mention of the internal work of the Holy Spirit in renewing and changing the heart.

By defining conversion this way, Pighius suggests that God's influence is entirely outward, effectively denying that there is any inward transformation or renewal of the heart through the Spirit's power. His silence on the work of the Holy Spirit implies that he dismisses this essential aspect of conversion, as if the mere application of external means could bring about true repentance and faith without a change within. This neglect of the Spirit's role is not

just an omission; it reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of how deeply grace operates in the believer's heart.

Pighius tries to use Scripture to support his argument that people initiate their own conversion. For example, he cites Jeremiah: "If you turn, I will cause you to turn" (Jer. 15). But Pighius misinterprets the context. In this passage, God is speaking to the prophet Jeremiah, who, overwhelmed by despair, begins to doubt his calling. God responds, encouraging him to return to trust and obedience, promising that He will restore Jeremiah's faith and resolve.

In saying, "If you turn, I will cause you to turn," God is not suggesting that Jeremiah initiates his own change but rather that any return to faithfulness will ultimately be by God's own enabling. This phrase serves as a gentle reminder of God's grace—if Jeremiah returns, it will be because God has graciously caused him to.

Pighius also amasses other Scripture references where God rebukes the stubbornness of people who resist His kindness, using this to argue that, if people are condemned for not turning, then turning to God must be their own achievement. But while Scripture does reveal that people resist God out of their own sinful nature, it also clearly states that true conversion is a work of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, while stubbornness comes from the human heart, the ability to repent and turn back to God is fully a gift from God, not an act of human strength.

If Pighius's objection were to be valid, he would have to prove that my teaching drives men to despair, just as Israel lamented, "Our sins are upon us; we are consumed by them" (Ezek. 33:10). He argues that if God alone turns our hearts, then the sinner might despair, believing himself condemned to perish unless God chooses to raise him. But this is a gross misunderstanding. When we recognize our

own weakness and inability, it does not lead to hopelessness but directs us to seek God's mercy. For God's elect, this truth is a source of hope, as they look not to themselves but to the grace and strength God promises to supply. For the reprobate, who remain hardened, their ruin is not caused by God's neglect but is rather a testimony to their own guilt and refusal of the divine call.

Consider the context of the passage Pighius cites from Ezekiel. The people's complaint was not born of genuine humility or remorse; rather, it came from hardened hearts resentful of God's judgments. Their question, "Why should we repent if God has already determined our destruction?" reveals a spirit of rebellion, not repentance. God's reply, "I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked" (Ezek. 33:11), is not a statement of human power over salvation. It is a proclamation of God's mercy and His continual offer of reconciliation to the wayward. Pighius, in his blindness, imagines that this means salvation is somehow within our control. Yet it is clear from the whole of Scripture that God's Spirit alone can soften the heart, so that His call to repentance is fruitful.

Pighius further points to the decree of the king of Nineveh in response to Jonah's warning, as if to suggest that the command to "turn from evil" indicates that repentance lies within our own grasp. Here again, he misinterprets the text. The king's call to repentance was indeed his duty, but this does not mean that human strength alone could bring about conversion. Prophets, pastors, and kings alike must call sinners to repentance, yet it is God alone who brings life to the dead soul. The king's decree did not signify that he, or the people, could turn themselves to God by sheer force of will; it was a plea for divine mercy, which God graciously answered. Just as God grants the grace to repent, He also chooses to accept that repentance as a work of His own Spirit in us, rather than human merit.

Finally, Pighius claims that the Ninevites' repentance was rewarded by God as if it were the fruit of their own power, as if human effort alone had spared the city. Yet even their repentance was a gift from God, who worked in their hearts and withheld His wrath as an act of pure mercy. Here, I agree with Augustine, who says, "If our merits are of ourselves, they are evil; for them to be good, they must be gifts from God" (Grace and Free Choice, ch. 6). The Lord crowns His own work in us, recognizing the goodness He Himself has brought to life in our hearts. Thus, God's mercy is not a reward for human striving; it is the overflowing of His goodness toward those who are wholly dependent on Him. Let Pighius learn from Augustine: the goodness in us is not ours to boast of; it is God's alone, who gives, sustains, and crowns it.

Pighius argues that when Jesus says to Capernaum, "If the miracles done in you had been done in Tyre or Sidon or Sodom, they would have repented in sackcloth and ashes" (Matthew 11:21-23), this implies that God would have granted those cities repentance if He had shown them the same miracles. If that's true, he says, why didn't God perform miracles there if He knew they would repent? And why give miracles to Capernaum if they were going to reject them?

In response, I would say that Jesus here is not discussing why some are granted repentance while others are not. He's highlighting how hardened Capernaum has become, despite the abundant signs and teachings they received. He compares them to other cities, saying that even the most stubborn hearts would have repented if they had seen the same miracles. Jesus isn't implying that God withheld miracles to keep Tyre, Sidon, or Sodom from repentance. Instead, He emphasizes the unique privilege and responsibility of those who hear the gospel and witness God's works, yet remain unmoved.

If Pighius insists on pressing the phrase, "they would have repented," then he must answer this question: if God knew those cities would respond to His message, why didn't He give them the same opportunities as Capernaum? Pighius's reasoning leaves him entangled in his own arguments.

Next, Pighius lists God's commands as evidence that we must have the power to prepare our hearts and respond to God's call. He argues that it would be "madness" for God to command things beyond our capacity to fulfill. He cites Jeremiah's words: "Let us examine our ways and return to the Lord; let us lift up our hearts with our hands to heaven, saying, 'We have sinned…'" (Lamentations 3:40-41). Pighius claims this shows people can prepare for grace by selfexamination and repentance. To him, "lifting our hearts" means turning away from earthly desires, while "lifting our hands" means doing good works.

However, this argument twists Scripture to suit his point. "Lifting our hearts and hands" simply means turning to God in humility and prayer, acknowledging our need for His mercy. Pighius's elaborate interpretation here is nothing more than unnecessary complication— filling simple phrases with imagined meanings that suit his own theology.

In reality, God's commands reveal our need for His grace, not our own power. If anything, the commands lead us to acknowledge our inadequacy and drive us to rely on God's Spirit. Rather than proving human ability, they show us how dependent we are on God's mercy and the working of His Spirit within us.

Right after discussing preparation for repentance, Pighius shifts to the next phase, which he calls "conversion," or the main part of repentance. He claims that repentance itself is entirely within our

own power. But what he describes as the beginning of repentance— the sinner's shame and discomfort upon recognizing his own wrongdoing—is actually a work of God's grace. In Ezekiel, God says to His people, "Though you have broken my covenant, I will remember it and make a new, everlasting covenant with you. Then you shall remember your ways and be ashamed" (Ezek. 16:60-63). Here, God takes the initiative, stirring His people to recognize and regret their sins. Pighius imagines that man takes the first step toward God, but the Lord shows that He Himself initiates this change in the heart.

Then, regarding prayer, Pighius claims that people take the first step by calling on God of their own strength, thereby anticipating His grace. But Paul states clearly: "How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed?" (Rom. 10:14). Paul shows that calling on God flows from faith, which itself is a gift of God. Faith is the root, and calling on God is the fruit. But where does this faith come from if not from God? Pighius might go as far as to claim that faith itself is something we prepare on our own. Yet Augustine reminds us, "Faith strengthens us to pray so that we may be heard, to seek so that we may find, and to knock so that the door may be opened" (The Perfection of Righteousness).

Pighius also uses Solomon's words to argue that people have the power to prepare their hearts on their own, quoting, "The preparations of the heart belong to man" (Prov. 16:1). But this verse doesn't mean that man controls his heart; rather, it's a subtle irony. Solomon is pointing out human arrogance, in which people take on the greatest tasks as though they control their own hearts, though they can't even manage the smallest things—such as guiding their own tongues. The verse warns against human pride, showing that

apart from God, even the smallest efforts are futile. Yet Pighius twists this to suggest that man can somehow precede God's grace.

Pighius argues that people can prepare their hearts in ways that are pleasing to God, and he attempts to support this by misquoting David: "God heard the petition of the poor; Your ear heard the preparation of their heart" (Ps. 10:17). But the original text actually says, "You will prepare their heart; Your ear will hear." Here, David affirms that it is God, not the person, who prepares the heart. Pighius, by using a poor translation, tries to twist this verse to suggest that human effort somehow competes with God's grace.

Pighius also points to Rehoboam's failure as proof that people can prepare their hearts to seek God, saying Rehoboam lost his kingdom because he "did not prepare his heart to seek the Lord" (2 Chron. 12:14). Pighius asks, if people cannot prepare their hearts for God, why would Scripture specifically mention this failure in Rehoboam? His mistake here is assuming that every person naturally has a "tractable heart" that can turn to God without the Spirit's influence. The real meaning is that Rehoboam did not direct his heart toward God, a trait common to all who are hardened against Him.

Scripture distinguishes between two types of hearts: one hardened by sin and rebellion, and the other softened and made obedient by God's Spirit. Without God's intervention, all human hearts are hardened, inclined to evil, and incapable of seeking good. But when God replaces a "heart of stone" with a "heart of flesh" (Ezek. 36:26), He makes it receptive and obedient to His law, inscribing it on the heart itself. Those whom God renews are willing and able to serve Him; those who remain hardened in sin resist Him by their own stubbornness. Thus, people who are, by nature, identical in their inability to seek God are transformed only by God's grace or remain

resistant by His judgment. This is not my invention but the clear teaching of Scripture, which leaves no confusion on the matter.

Pighius claims to find proof of human ability to prepare for God's grace in David's words: "God heard the petition of the poor; your ear heard the preparation of their heart." Yet his interpretation, due to poor translation, is flawed. The text literally reads, "You will prepare their heart." This speaks not of any preparation originating from the person but of God Himself preparing the heart. Pighius attempts to make it sound as if human effort could equal the work of God's grace, but he does so by misreading the text.

He also points to the downfall of Rehoboam, arguing that the king's failure to "direct his heart" toward God is evidence that people inherently have this ability. Pighius asks, if humans cannot prepare their hearts for God, why does Scripture even mention Rehoboam's failure? But he misses the true point: the passage does not imply that Rehoboam had a natural, godly inclination to prepare his heart without God's intervention. Rather, it simply observes that he did not turn to God—a sign of his ungodly character.

This confusion is common in Pighius's arguments, as he often fails to distinguish between the natural state of humans, who are inclined toward sin, and the transformed state of those who are directed by God's Spirit. Scripture teaches that all humanity has a natural heart of stone, resistant to God, until God Himself applies the "cure" by His Spirit (Ezekiel 36:26). When God transforms the heart, making it a "heart of flesh," it becomes capable of willing and obeying Him.

Thus, those with hearts softened by God's grace live in obedience to Him, while those left in their natural state remain hardened, stubborn, and defiant. In their unchanged state, people cannot rightly follow God's commands. But once God gives the heart a new

disposition, the person is inclined to follow His will. In short, the obedience of the godly is entirely a work of God, while the rebelliousness of the ungodly is their own doing. In this, the distinction between the elect and the reprobate lies in God's grace, not human merit.

So then, Scripture is clear: the change of heart that enables us to seek God comes only from Him, and this work cannot be claimed as human preparation for grace. All of it depends upon God's intervention and His Spirit working within us.

Pighius, as he often does, returns to the commandments, suggesting that faithful people throughout history have been able to fulfill God's commands. He points to David urging the people to offer their hearts to God, and Hezekiah encouraging Israel not to be stubborn but to submit to the Lord. Scripture even records that people from all over Israel gathered and surrendered their hearts to God. Who could deny this? But Pighius overlooks an essential point: Scripture also notes that it was only those "whose hearts the Lord had touched" who truly surrendered to Him. The real issue is whether such acts of devotion arise from human effort alone or are led and inspired by the Holy Spirit.

In an attempt to unite free will with grace, Pighius argues that God's gifts, like wisdom, are given only to those who seek them humbly. According to him, wisdom is not imposed by God but received only by those who prepare their hearts for it. But here he misses a fundamental truth: even humility itself is a gift from God. Can he really claim that humility is self-generated? The faithful know well that all good things, including humility, come from God's grace alone.

Pighius implies that if God grants grace without regard to a person's preparation, then God is unfair to those He passes over. If God stood trial under Pighius's standards, He would be judged as unjust. Yet God Himself declares that it is His own grace alone that sets His people apart; without it, all would remain equally in sin. Pighius's argument, then, is as futile as "throwing stones at heaven" only for them to fall back upon himself.

He may protest endlessly, even pronounce curses on those who deny human ability to merit God's grace. But without stronger arguments from Scripture, his objections are as weak as "barking at the wind." God's truth, founded upon His sovereignty and grace, is too firmly established to be shaken by such empty reasoning.

In moving to his next point, Pighius attempts to refute my arguments and claims to Scripture. I had written in Institutes that the human will cannot be seen as something that independently follows the leading of God's grace, as though it cooperates through its own separate power. Instead, the will's readiness to receive and follow the Spirit comes only after it has been renewed by God, making it willing and responsive to His influence. Pighius dismisses this as incoherent, claiming not even I understand my own point. Furthermore, he accuses me of outright impiety, alleging I've wrongly invoked Augustine's support by carelessly misreading him. If only Pighius had approached the Scriptures with the same diligence he claims I lack! I will let the evidence speak for itself on that matter.

In addressing the issue at hand, I had criticized Chrysostom's statement that neither grace alone nor the human will alone could produce any good without the other. Pighius accuses me of unfairly attributing this idea to Chrysostom alone, insisting that it's a broadly accepted view in the church and even affirmed by Augustine. He cites

a passage from the Hypognosticon, a work often attributed to Augustine. Although the language here is somewhat similar to Chrysostom's, the meaning is fundamentally different. The author of the Hypognosticon suggests that good works result from both grace and free will, comparing the process to a rider guiding a horse: while the horse does the running, it stays on course only through the rider's guidance. He further explains that the will, like a straying beast, is aimless in worldly pursuits until the Spirit of God enters, leading it back to the way of righteousness. Once guided, it continues on the right path only through the ongoing direction of the Spirit.

Thus, he concludes that while the will does "run," it is God who keeps it on course, making it reach its intended destination.

I have always maintained that the will itself, the capacity to choose, remains intact within us. However, the ability to will and do what is good is not ours by nature; it is solely a gift from God's grace. In this, I see no contradiction in saying that our will, in its natural state, is capable of choosing but is so corrupted that it chooses only evil. When God's Spirit renews the will, it acquires a new inclination toward righteousness, and this transformation is entirely God's doing. The will, therefore, belongs to man, yet it is only by the preceding work of God that it turns toward good.

I find no problem in saying that the will "goes along with" grace, much as matter conforms to form. Just as the matter of clay is shaped by the potter, so too is our will shaped by God's Spirit. Our ability to will rightly does not come from us; rather, it is the Spirit that reforms our nature and gives it a new disposition toward good. Yet Chrysostom's view distorts this truth by suggesting that grace depends on human cooperation for its effectiveness. Pighius, in his

turn, clings to Chrysostom's error and deceives himself—and others —by failing to distinguish words from their intended meaning.

Augustine rightly dismissed as absurd the idea that God's mercy would be ineffective unless it received support from our will. As he writes, "It is not of him who wills or runs, but of God who shows mercy" (Romans 9:16). God alone prepares the will so that it can receive grace and assists it even after it has been prepared. He goes before the unwilling soul to make it willing and continues to support it so that it does not will in vain. This is the very doctrine I affirm: God's grace is wholly sufficient.

Yet Pighius asserts that I destroy free will altogether, as if I taught that the very substance of the will is obliterated. This is nonsense. I have never said that the essence of the will must be destroyed. Rather, I have always spoken of the corruption of its quality, the inclination that is hostile to God, which must be transformed by grace. When Augustine spoke of "prevenient grace" that prepares free will to do good, he did not speak of human effort as preceding God's grace; rather, he showed that it is grace that both initiates and completes the good in us, while free will follows.

Pighius, however, attempts to twist Augustine's words, imagining that he condemns my teaching. Augustine's words—"Grace does the work, directs it, and completes it, even as it engages the will"—could almost have been penned by me, for they reflect my own conviction that all our good works flow from God's gracious initiative, not from our own strength. If Pighius cannot see this, it is due not only to blindness but to malice.

Pighius continues his critique of my arguments with the same flawed reasoning he has employed before. To begin, he claims he has already adequately responded to my citation of Jeremiah, where God

says, "I will put the fear of my name into their hearts, so they will not turn away from me," and, "I will give them a new heart, so that they will fear me all their days" (Jer. 32:40, Ezek. 11:19). However, Pighius's so-called response is merely a contradiction. The Lord plainly declares that He is the one who causes us to remain faithful to Him. He clarifies this by saying He grants us a new heart and implants reverence for Him within us.

Pighius, however, insists that God's grace merely gives us the ability to stay faithful, should we choose to do so. Further, he suggests that we must first seek God on our own initiative before receiving grace. Such an idea lacks scriptural support, yet Pighius seems to expect it to be accepted without question.

When I reference the prayers of the saints asking God to "direct their hearts" and "create in [them] a clean heart" (Psalm 51:10), he counters by citing God's commands for us to direct our own hearts. But there should be no confusion: by praying in this way, the saints acknowledge that their ability to do good ultimately comes from God. Commands, on the other hand, reveal our duty, not our capacity to fulfill it without divine help.

Pighius claims that the prayers of the saints reflect only their desire for grace, arguing that this contradicts my view that we do not prepare ourselves to receive grace. Yet these prayers clearly reflect the saints' dependence on God to sustain the work He began. As David and Solomon cry, "Direct our hearts, O God," they acknowledge that it is God who must complete the renewal He has started. In these prayers, they are not claiming any ability of their own but pleading for God to fulfill what only He can complete.

Pighius has not yet managed to undermine the teaching that directing human hearts toward righteousness is solely the work of

God. I pointed out that God requires nothing of us more urgently than that we observe His Sabbath—a true Sabbath rest that means resting from our own works (Isaiah 58:13-14). Pighius counters that God only wants us to refrain from "servile" work, not from acts of devotion and obedience. Yet, my purpose in mentioning the Sabbath was to emphasize that even fearing God and following His ways are not tasks we achieve on our own. When God commands us to rest from our works, He highlights that, in ourselves, our works amount to nothing but sin. Isaiah confirms this by saying the Sabbath is violated when we impose our own will on it. The real meaning of Sabbath, as Paul points out in Romans 6, is that our sinful nature— the "old man"—is crucified, something that Pighius overlooks entirely.

Next, I referenced Christ's words: "I am the true vine, you are the branches. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it remains in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in me, for without me you can do nothing" (John 15:1-5). Here, Pighius sees support for his own view, arguing that the relationship between the vine and branches illustrates both free choice and grace. According to him, the vine gives life, while the branch (us) brings forth fruit through its own effort, suggesting a partnership. But Christ's meaning is simpler and far more profound. Just as a branch detached from the vine becomes entirely lifeless, so, without being joined to Christ, we are utterly powerless to bring forth spiritual life. Even while connected to Him, we depend on God's constant care to be fruitful. Those who understand this analogy as Christ intended will not be led astray by the confusion Pighius tries to introduce.

But Pighius tries to twist even this clear teaching. He insists that, like a branch, we bear fruit by our own life-giving ability, even if that life comes from God. If he merely means that God has given us faculties

like the will, judgment, and strength to act, I agree. But if he implies that any good we do is partly due to us rather than wholly to God, he is clearly mistaken. Scripture tells us that both good and evil actions are called "fruit," but apart from Christ, we can produce only the fruit of sin and death. We need grace to bear good fruit. Left to ourselves, we are barren of anything good and prolific in wrongdoing.

I would also like to know if Pighius believes everyone is naturally joined to Christ or if he admits that this union is a unique blessing of grace, beyond natural ability. If he concedes this—as he must—then what becomes of his idea that free choice has a role in preparing us for grace? Paul settles the matter by comparing those apart from Christ to wild olive branches (Romans 11:17), showing that, without being grafted into Christ, we can never bear the fruit that God desires.

Pighius thinks he has made his case by arguing that, if a branch cannot bear fruit unless it remains in the vine, then it must bear fruit naturally once it abides there. In his view, once we are in Christ, our will produces fruit "of itself." He celebrates this point, but anyone can see the flaw in his reasoning. Christ's words clearly mean that a branch is not fruitful by its own power; it only bears fruit if it abides in the vine. Pighius tries to twist the meaning, but his approach fails. Christ contrasts "of itself" with "in the vine," implying that "of itself" means being separated from the vine. Without Christ, we are barren and unfruitful.

When Paul says, "It is God who works in us to will and to act according to his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13), Pighius responds by claiming that the will also acts, as if that assertion changes anything. Yes, the will does act; the question is whether it acts independently or under God's guidance. Paul's point is that our will,

directed by the Spirit, is turned toward the good by God's work, not our own. Pighius's response, therefore, lacks substance.

Regarding Paul's statement that "God does all in all" (1 Corinthians 12:6), Pighius argues that while God is the ultimate cause, His creatures carry out their actions independently. However, Paul's purpose in saying that God does all things is to emphasize that nothing happens apart from Him. This does not refer to God's general rule over creation but specifically to His work in guiding believers through the Holy Spirit into obedience. By missing this distinction, Pighius offers a superficial and inadequate understanding.

Pighius attempts to argue that people come to Christ only with their own consent, referring to Chrysostom's claim that God draws people to Himself by their willingness. He tries to back this with the supposed consensus of the church over the centuries and by saying that God simply "stands at the door," waiting for us to open it. But this argument misses the depth of what Scripture teaches about God's role in salvation. Ambrose rightly noted that both Christ and Satan enlist followers, but we know that Christ's followers are transformed by His Spirit. As Augustine put it, God draws us without force, but He does so by shaping our will. I agree that those drawn by God come willingly; however, they do so because God has renewed their will.

Pighius then critiques my use of Christ's words, "Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me" (John 6:45), insisting that this "learning" merely means agreeing to listen. He implies that one can choose to accept or reject God's teaching. But Christ's intention here is to show the distinction between mere outward teaching, which reaches the ear, and the Spirit's inward

work, which enlightens the heart. Jesus speaks this way because many who heard His words were spiritually blind and resistant. Thus, teaching bears fruit only when God grants understanding and a will to follow.

Pighius tries to undermine my interpretation by appealing to Cyril's view, as if this alone would invalidate my point. But if we are considering historical support, I have Augustine firmly on my side, and he saw Christ's words as declaring that only those inwardly taught by the Father truly come to Christ. This instruction is effective, not optional. Pighius counters by claiming that learning depends on personal choice, yet this clearly contradicts the intention of Christ's teaching, which stresses that coming to faith is a gift granted by God. Cyril's view, stating that those who come are not coerced, is not something I dispute; my argument rests on the nature of God's inward work that leads us willingly, not on any idea of force.

Pighius concludes his argument by endorsing William of Ockham's statement, steeped in Pelagian thought: "God does not deny his grace to one who does what he can." He believes my teaching, that no one seeks God's grace without the Spirit moving them, renders people like "lifeless stumps." His reasoning is that if grace cannot be sought without God's initiation, then grace is already present before one can even seek it. But he is missing the distinction I've drawn between two kinds of grace: the godly desire to seek God and the actual receiving of His grace. Augustine captures this well when he says, "It is faith's health that leads you to ask, seek, and knock," which ultimately comes from God, not from the seeker alone.

Regarding the gift of perseverance, Pighius claims it is both freely given and a reward for our own merits. Yet, Paul's clear teaching opposes this idea: "If it is by grace, it is no longer based on works"

(Rom. 11:6). Paul even argues that if something is given as a reward, it is a debt, not grace (Rom. 4:4). Pighius seems to miss that claiming to earn grace contradicts the very concept of it being free.

Pighius then uses Christ's parable of the talents, claiming that it supports the idea that God rewards the proper use of earlier graces with further gifts. I agree in part; God does indeed grant greater graces in response to faithful use of His gifts. However, I stress two essential points: First, we must not think our own efforts make grace effective. Second, we must never imagine grace ceases to be a free gift. God certainly increases His gifts in response to how we use them, but this faithfulness itself is enabled by His grace. I've clearly stated in Institutes that when God praises and rewards our faithfulness, He is essentially crowning His own gifts in us. Even Paul says that it is God who works in us to both will and do His good pleasure (Phil. 2:13).

Pighius's interpretation of the parable does not contradict my own teaching. We are the servants, God's gifts are the talents, and God Himself is the master. The faithful should indeed expect that as they respond well to God's grace, He will graciously add more. But their very ability to respond faithfully is yet another gift from God.

Pighius uses Paul's words to argue that our will cooperates with God's grace, citing Paul's statement that he labored "more abundantly than all others" (1 Corinthians 15:10). However, Paul quickly clarifies, saying, "Not I, but the grace of God which was with me." Pighius claims Paul only meant that he labored with God's assistance. But if Paul intended to say that he worked with God's help, he would have said he labored alongside grace. Instead, Paul's correction emphasizes that his labor was entirely a result of God's

grace. This correction shows that all the strength and effort Paul exerted came not from himself but from God's empowering grace.

Pighius insists that human effort in Christian life is our own, with God simply supplying strength for it. Yet Paul's words challenge this view, affirming that God doesn't merely assist but is the source of both the will and the action (Philippians 2:13). When people labor in the faith, it is because God causes them to act according to His purpose. If Pighius wants to contend with this interpretation, he must face Paul's own words, which clearly credit God alone for such work.

Pighius then points to Jesus' parable of the laborers in the vineyard to argue that human labor has its own value apart from God's grace, thinking we can only respond by saying that grace alone accounts for the laborers' reward. But we do not deny the reality of faithful laborers. Instead, we affirm that their ability to work, their desire, and even their labor itself are all gifts from God's grace. In this teaching, there is no contradiction: though laborers are rewarded, they owe their willingness and strength to God, who alone enables them to serve in His vineyard. This understanding of the parable preserves the truth that all human goodness flows from God's abundant grace.

Augustine's View on Free Will and Grace

In support of our position, I have quoted passages from Augustine, particularly from his letters to Valentinus. However, rather than addressing these passages directly, Pighius leads his readers on lengthy, irrelevant diversions, as if attempting to obscure the clear truth of Augustine's words. He claims that because Augustine speaks of "free choice" alongside grace, this alone proves his point. But we have already shown what Augustine means by this term. By "free

choice," Augustine refers to the will itself, which he openly admits is bound by sin until freed by grace. This view does not contradict our teaching.

When Augustine says that the will is "not abolished by grace but transformed from evil to good, and once made good, is aided by grace," he aligns closely with our understanding. The will remains, but it is powerless for good until God transforms it. Pighius argues over terms, but the substance of Augustine's teaching affirms our view: human will, though real, is captive to sin and powerless for good without God's grace.

Pighius also highlights a phrase where Augustine says that "to desire grace is already the beginning of grace," implying that this contradicts our doctrine. Yet, there is no actual conflict here. This phrase simply means that any inclination to seek God is itself a gift of His grace—a point we readily affirm. Ironically, Pighius now praises as "orthodox" the very idea he previously denounced as heretical. He fails to see that by acknowledging this truth, he undermines his entire argument, for it suggests that even the first steps of seeking God are moved by His grace, not by any inherent ability in us.

Pighius claims that Augustine rebukes those who say that emphasizing grace makes exhortation pointless. But when has anyone in our tradition ever suggested such a thing? Pighius insists that our teaching leads to this conclusion—that if no one can resist evil or do good without grace, and if grace alone does this work in us, then calling people to do good is as futile as telling a blind person to see. Yet Augustine says nearly the same thing: "People are freed from evil by the grace of Christ alone. Without this, they do no good at all, whether by thinking, willing, loving, or acting" (ch. 2). He also states, "The human will does not gain grace through its freedom, but rather

gains freedom through grace" (ch. 8). Further, Augustine affirms, "God is within, who holds back hearts, moves them, and draws people by their wills, which he has worked in them" (ch. 14).

Pighius then claims Augustine shows that it's within each person's power to receive admonition. This misreads Augustine's words entirely. Augustine repeatedly clarifies that any benefit from rebuke depends solely on God. He writes, "Man benefits from rebuke only when God, who can work good even without rebuke, has mercy and helps him" (ch. 5). Further, "The multitude deserving condemnation should be rebuked, so that God may work inwardly, even if rebuke is heard outwardly" (ch. 6). He also states, "When people respond to rebuke and return to righteousness, who causes this in their hearts? Only God, who gives the increase" (ch. 14).

Augustine concludes, "For us, who cannot tell who is predestined, we must rebuke all so that they may not perish or mislead others. But only God makes this beneficial for those he has predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son" (ch. 16). Thus, Augustine makes clear that it is God alone who turns the heart, though admonitions may serve as instruments. In all of this, Augustine's position remains in full agreement with our teaching: while we administer rebuke, its true power rests entirely in God's sovereign work.

Pighius acknowledges, though he later contradicts himself, that Augustine teaches this: conversion, growth in goodness, and perseverance to the end are entirely gifts of God's grace—and that this grace is not offered to everyone. Augustine argues that these things are granted by God's will alone and cannot be attained by human effort or desire. Although Pighius admits this, he still tries to twist Augustine's meaning, claiming that while conversion and perseverance are gifts from God, they are somehow rewards for a

person's prior free choice. In doing so, he openly disagrees with Augustine. Pighius thinks he can resolve these tensions with a few clever words, but anyone with clear sense will recognize the absurdity of his argument.

I also quoted Augustine's words, "Grace to persevere would have been given to Adam if he had chosen it; it is given to us so that we may choose and overcome our sinful desires by our will. Adam had the ability to choose, though not the will to make him able; we are given both the will and the ability." Here, Augustine makes a distinction: Adam's freedom was the ability not to sin, while our freedom in Christ is greater, as we are given the will and the ability to overcome sin. Pighius then accuses me of misapplying this to the saints' present life, claiming that it applies only to the perfected state after the resurrection.

I do not deny that the complete freedom Augustine describes will only be perfected after the resurrection. However, Augustine clearly means that the beginnings of this freedom already take root in the lives of the saints today. This is evident when Augustine writes that the strength to stand firm, now given to the holy angels as a reward for their faithfulness, would have been humanity's as well if Adam had remained obedient. Due to his fall, however, we now receive this gift as grace, not as a reward.

Moreover, Augustine explains that God's grace enables us not only to desire good but to persist in it. He draws a distinction between the "ability not to sin" and "not being able to sin," and between "the ability not to die" and "not being able to die." Augustine argues that a greater grace has been given to us—not merely to restore our freedom but to also instill in us the will to choose and persevere in

goodness. This transformation is a gift, showing God's work in us here and now as it will be fully revealed in glory.

In Augustine's words, our present freedom and future hope are gifts from God, making clear that our will, while active, is enabled and sustained by God's grace alone.

Pighius questions why Augustine uses the future tense when describing complete freedom. Augustine's answer is clear: in this life, we experience only a partial freedom granted through regeneration, but the fullness of freedom from sin is reserved for the resurrection. Augustine explains, "The first man was created with free will, without sin, yet he enslaved himself to sin. But through Christ, who said, 'If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed,' our will, once enslaved to sin, is now freed. We fight against sin while in this life, but we are no longer bound by it as slaves leading to death" (ch. 12). Thus, when Augustine speaks of a time when we "will be" unable to sin, he refers to the final state of freedom that will be fully realized in Christ's kingdom after the resurrection.

Pighius insists that I do not permit anyone to interpret Augustine's statement about freedom as relating to our perfected state after resurrection. But this is incorrect. While the fullness of freedom awaits us in glory, Augustine is clear that the grace of regeneration is active even now.

I cited Augustine's words to eliminate any doubt on this matter. Augustine states, "The wills of the saints are so stirred by the Holy Spirit that they are able to act because they so will, and they will because God works in them to will. Divine grace upholds their frail wills, giving them stability so that they do not turn away or detach themselves from Him." Pighius mocks my citation, suggesting it's

irrelevant. Yet, Augustine makes a precise distinction here that addresses our present spiritual aid and future hope.

Augustine speaks of two types of divine help. First, he describes the help given to Adam, which allowed him to persevere but did not compel him to do so. Adam was given the capacity to choose rightly, but he lacked the enduring power of perseverance. In contrast, Augustine explains that the saints, who are destined for Christ's kingdom, receive a more effective grace. God's grace now not only assists perseverance but ensures it. Jesus declared, "Without me, you can do nothing" and "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to bear fruit that will remain." This shows that God gives not only the righteousness necessary for salvation but also the gift of perseverance to sustain it.

Thus, Augustine affirms that the perseverance of believers is secured by God's grace. In Christ, we are not merely given the potential to endure but are upheld so that we cannot ultimately fall away. Augustine's teaching is clear: God's grace initiates, sustains, and completes our journey in faith, assuring our perseverance to the end.

Who, I ask, could deny that Augustine's teachings align closely with what I have explained, though he uses different words? How can Pighius benefit by trying to separate concepts that Augustine so firmly connects? Augustine clearly teaches that not only does God's grace enable us to believe, but it also gives us the will to believe. His grace is effective not merely in offering us the chance to have faith or the potential to hold onto it; it actually ensures that we believe and persevere. It grants us a steadfast will to cling to what is good and the determination not to let it go.

Pighius, however, misrepresents this. He insists that Augustine is saying only that we are "helped" to such an extent that victory is

assured if we do not fail ourselves. In his view, we can withstand hell and resist Satan's power as long as we do not fall into corruption or negligence. But if one of the elect were to turn away, neglect grace, or lose it due to weakness, what then would become of that grace Augustine speaks of, which secures us with unwavering resolve? Augustine teaches that grace not only gives us the power to believe but actually makes us believers. It doesn't merely offer us perseverance but instills in us a constancy that compels us to persevere. Augustine speaks of an "unconquerable will" to hold fast to the good and an "unconquerable constancy" that does not let go.

Yet Pighius dismisses all this with a loud, misguided confidence, claiming that Augustine clearly contradicts me. He refuses to see that Augustine's words stand in agreement with my teaching: grace is not a mere offer that leaves our will to itself, but a powerful force that transforms, sustains, and assures our perseverance in faith.

In conclusion, Pighius's work is divided into ten books: the first six discuss human free will, and the remaining four cover God's predestination and providence. Since these are distinct topics, I have focused so far on addressing the question of free will to the best of my ability within a limited time. I plan to address the subjects of predestination and providence later, as there is no urgency, and a careful treatment will be more beneficial when it is published, if the Lord wills.

I was concerned, however, that if I stayed silent for too long, Pighius might mislead some readers with his usual, flashy rhetoric. Therefore, I decided to release this portion as a preview—to temper his arrogance and to encourage godly people. May they see that the truth of God remains undefeated, even under the force of Pighius's attacks, and may they be strengthened in their faith.

Key Quotes

On Free Will and Human Corruption

1. "Since the fall of the first man, free choice has been a reality in name only, and we can of ourselves do nothing but sin."

2. "Human nature, as created, was indeed good, but through the fall, it became so deeply corrupted that all its capacities for good are extinguished until it is renewed by God's grace."

3. "The will is so enslaved by sin that it cannot seek the good on its own; left to itself, it chooses evil because of its inherent corruption."

4. "Though humans freely choose, they are incapable of good because their will, bound by sin, is inclined only toward wickedness."

5. "The soul and its will, while designed to be directed by reason, are rendered spiritually blind by sin, unable to seek God's righteousness without divine intervention."

6. "Our corrupted nature, left untouched by grace, is nothing but concupiscence—a fountain of evil desires that cannot produce

anything truly good."

7. "Man's will, though created free, has become a slave to corruption, needing God's grace to be freed from sin's chains and to do any good."

8. "True freedom for humanity lies not in its fallen will, which is bound to sin, but in the liberation that God's grace alone provides."

These quotes capture Calvin's perspective on the will's enslavement to sin, emphasizing humanity's need for divine grace to break the bondage and truly pursue good.

On the Nature of Good Works

1. "It is certain that whatever good works can be cited do not please God by virtue of their own worth but by His gracious favor, because He wills to value them so much, even though they do not deserve it."

2. "Good works, if they are evaluated in themselves, are without exception sinful; they are good and please God through God's fatherly acceptance, not by their own inherent merit."

3. "For however much the saints dedicate themselves sincerely and unfeignedly to obedience to God, it is yet far from being the case that there is present that readiness to render obedience which is demanded by the well-known summary of the law."

4. "Even the best works of the saints, if reviewed by God and weighed in that balance which fills even the very angels with

dread, will be exposed as corrupt, whatever may be the value set on them by human judgment."

5. "The worth of good works depends not on the act itself but on perfect love for God; a work will not be righteous and pure unless it proceeds from a perfect love for God."

6. "Augustine's words—'Grace does the work, directs it, and completes it, even as it engages the will'—reflect my own conviction that all our good works flow from God's gracious initiative, not from our own strength."

7. "The Lord crowns His own work in us, recognizing the goodness He Himself has brought to life in our hearts. Thus, God's mercy is not a reward for human striving; it is the overflowing of His goodness toward those who are wholly dependent on Him."

8. "Under the Mosaic Law, anything holy that came into contact with impurity was considered unclean, showing that human imperfection taints what might otherwise be good."

These quotes illuminate Calvin's view that good works, while valuable, derive their worth solely from God's grace rather than any inherent human merit. This theme emphasizes human dependence on divine mercy and underscores the limitations of human efforts.

On Exhorting Faith Despite Human Inability

1. "For this same reason I will only lightly touch on his last objection, where he mocks our folly in spending so much trouble on instructing people, when we assert meanwhile that faith is not obtained through human efforts at persuasion, but is the special work of the Holy Spirit."

2. "He says that we labour in vain in urging and exhorting people to believe, if it is really the case that they do not conceive [faith] themselves by their own power, but God inspires it by His grace."

3. "We are no more labouring in vain than do farmers while they plough the earth and sow seed. For it is written, 'You shall sow and not gather,' indicating that all labour is in vain without the blessing of God."

4. "The Word is like a seed sown in preaching; yet it only takes root, grows, and bears fruit when the Spirit works inwardly to give it life."

5. "Our teaching is clear: humanity's fallen nature is so deeply corrupted by sin that it cannot produce anything truly good. Even when we pursue what is noble, the remnants of sin taint our desires."

6. "God's Word and Spirit work together in harmony. When the Spirit empowers the Word, He plants in us a desire for renewal. While we cannot dictate when or how God acts, we trust that He brings the Word and Spirit together to transform and mature His people in faith."

7. "When we recognize our own weakness and inability, it does not lead to hopelessness but directs us to seek God's mercy. For God's elect, this truth is a source of hope, as they look not to themselves but to the grace and strength God promises to supply."

8. "Prophets, pastors, and kings alike must call sinners to repentance, yet it is God alone who brings life to the dead soul."

9. "Scripture teaches that the law's perfection is beyond our natural ability. No one has ever fully kept it, nor can they, because it demands absolute righteousness."

These quotes reflect Calvin's view that, despite human inability, exhortations to faith are meaningful because God alone brings about true transformation and faith through His Spirit.

Divine Power and Human Weakness

1. "Christ prayed that Peter's faith would not fail, showing that God's grace keeps believers steadfast even in their own weakness. God does not merely offer support; He actively works within us so that we continue in faith."

2. "God's grace fires our will, giving us both the power and the desire to persevere. Without this grace, our weak wills would falter under temptation, but because of it, we are strengthened and upheld."

3. "God promised to do what He commands of us, so that His promises depend on His power, not on ours."

4. "It is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. This lifelong work finds its source solely in God's grace, flowing from his own goodness without regard to any merit on our part."

5. "Even as God demands obedience, it is He who grants us the will to obey. We act and desire because God empowers us."

6. "God's grace does not merely assist our weakness; it is the complete work of God in us. By grace alone, our hearts are

transformed, our wills are made new, and we are renewed to desire and pursue what is right."

7. "Our weak and captive wills, held in bondage to sin, can only be freed by God's intervention. He not only initiates our freedom but ensures we continue in it."

These quotes highlight Calvin's emphasis on the centrality of God's active power and grace in the believer's journey, underscoring the human reliance on divine strength amidst inherent weakness.

Divine Mercy

1. "God's mercy is not a reward for human striving; it is the overflowing of His goodness toward those who are wholly dependent on Him."

2. "God acts first, moving man to know and seek him, for no one can perceive the true light unless God shines it into their hearts."

3. "In His mercy, God drew to Himself those who were once alienated and rebellious, showing that His choice is grounded in grace alone, not any human inclination."

4. "Augustine affirms that our salvation is entirely a work of God's free and sovereign grace, which goes before, creates, and upholds our desire and capacity for faith."

5. "God's reply, 'I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked,' is not a statement of human power over salvation. It is a proclamation of God's mercy and His continual offer of reconciliation to the wayward."

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