The Examination
The Appeal-to-Authority Problem
Before we examine a single argument, we need to name what's happening here. Articles like Dr. Eitan Bar's don't primarily argue from Scripture — they argue from C.S. Lewis. The implicit logic is: "Lewis was brilliant. Lewis rejected Calvinism. Therefore Calvinism is wrong."
This is a textbook appeal to authority. And while Lewis was indeed brilliant — a literary genius, a gifted apologist, and a man who brought many to Christ — he was not an apostle. He was not a biblical scholar. He was not a trained theologian. He was an English literature professor at Oxford who wrote popular-level Christian books.
We love Lewis. We thank God for Lewis. But we don't build our doctrine on Lewis. We build it on the Word of God. And so every claim attributed to Lewis must be measured not by how eloquently he stated it, but by whether it accords with what God has revealed in Scripture.
"If C.S. Lewis rejected a doctrine, the doctrine must be wrong — because Lewis was too smart to be wrong about theology."
The Apostle Paul — an actual inspired author of Scripture — warned the Galatians: "Even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed" (Galatians 1:8). If Paul subjected even angels to the authority of the gospel, surely C.S. Lewis can be examined by the same standard — with all due respect and affection.
So let us proceed. Not by asking "What did Lewis think?" but by asking "What does Scripture teach?" And where Lewis disagrees with Scripture, we will gently note that even the best of men are still men at best.
Did Lewis Understand Total Depravity?
Lewis argued that Total Depravity — "the doctrine that humans are too corrupted to judge God's goodness" — could turn Christianity into "a form of devil-worship" if taken to mean our ideas of God are worthless.
Here is Lewis's famous quote, wielded like a weapon against Reformed theology:
This sounds devastating — until you realize it has nothing to do with what Reformed theology actually teaches.
What Total Depravity Actually Means
Total Depravity does not mean that humans know nothing about God, or that every human thought is maximally evil, or that we cannot recognize goodness. It means that every faculty of the human person — mind, will, emotions, body — has been affected by the Fall, such that no one, left to themselves, will choose God.
The doctrine is about the extent of corruption (touching everything), not the degree (being as bad as possible). Consider what Scripture explicitly teaches:
"The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually." — Genesis 6:5 (ESV)
"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" — Jeremiah 17:9 (ESV)
"None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one." — Romans 3:10–12 (ESV)
"The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned." — 1 Corinthians 2:14 (ESV)
Lewis attacked a straw man. No Reformed theologian has ever taught that God's goodness is "wholly other" than what we can recognize. We teach that humans can recognize God's goodness — Romans 1:19–20 says God has made it plain — but that they suppress that truth in unrighteousness (Romans 1:18). The problem isn't that we can't see. It's that we won't see. Total Depravity explains why.
Ironically, Lewis himself recognized this problem. In The Screwtape Letters, he depicted human beings as easily deceived, drawn to comfort over truth, and prone to self-delusion — which is precisely what Total Depravity describes. Lewis lived the doctrine; he just didn't like the label.
The Free Will Mirage
Lewis argued that free will is essential for genuine love. Without the freedom to choose or reject God, human actions become mechanical and meaningless. God prefers "a world of free beings, with all its risks, than a world of people who did right like machines."
This is the crown jewel of every argument against biblical soteriology, and it sounds beautiful. Who doesn't love freedom? Who wants to be a robot?
But here's the question nobody asks: Does Scripture teach this?
Not "does it sound reasonable?" Not "does it feel right?" Not "did a beloved author write it?" But: Is this what God has revealed about how salvation works?
What Scripture Actually Says About the Human Will
The Bible does not paint a picture of humans standing at a neutral crossroads, equally able to choose God or reject Him. It paints a picture of people who are dead:
"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked..." — Ephesians 2:1–2 (ESV)
Dead people don't choose. They don't deliberate. They don't weigh options. They are made alive. And Paul tells us exactly who does the making alive:
"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved." — Ephesians 2:4–5 (ESV)
Notice: Paul doesn't say "God offered us life and we chose to accept it." He says God made us alive. The action is entirely God's. We were dead; He raised us. This is not robotic — it is resurrection.
But Doesn't Love Require Choice?
Here is where the philosophical argument crumbles against the biblical data. Consider: Do you love God because you chose Him — or because He first loved you?
"We love because he first loved us." — 1 John 4:19 (ESV)
"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit." — John 15:16 (ESV)
"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day." — John 6:44 (ESV)
The Greek word for "draws" here is ἑλκύω (helkuō) — the same word used in John 21:11 for dragging a net full of fish, and in Acts 16:19 for dragging Paul and Silas to the marketplace. This is not a gentle invitation. It is powerful, effectual action.
The free will argument assumes that libertarian freedom (the ability to choose otherwise in identical circumstances) is required for love. But Scripture never teaches this. What Scripture teaches is that God changes the heart — gives us new desires, new affections, new eyes to see — and then we freely and joyfully choose Him. We are not dragged kicking and screaming into heaven. We are given new hearts that want heaven. That is more beautiful than libertarian freedom, not less.
"And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh." — Ezekiel 36:26 (ESV)
Ask yourself: when God gave you that new heart — when the scales fell from your eyes and you suddenly saw Christ as beautiful — did you feel like a robot? Or did you feel, for the first time, truly free?
That is what Scripture teaches. Not freedom from God's sovereign work, but freedom through it.
Predestination: Philosophy vs. Scripture
Lewis argued that God's foreknowledge does not necessitate predestination, and that predetermined salvation or damnation contradicts divine justice. If God predetermines who goes to heaven or hell "arbitrarily," this undermines moral responsibility.
This is the most philosophically sophisticated argument — and the one most easily dismantled by simply reading what the Bible says. Because Scripture doesn't whisper about predestination. It shouts:
"Even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will." — Ephesians 1:4–5 (ESV)
"For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son... And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified." — Romans 8:29–30 (ESV)
"He has mercy on whomever he wills, and he hardens whomever he wills." — Romans 9:18 (ESV)
Notice that Romans 8:29–30 is an unbreakable chain: foreknown → predestined → called → justified → glorified. Not one link is left to human decision. The chain begins with God's knowledge and ends with God's glory. Everyone foreknown is glorified. No one falls out.
But Isn't That "Arbitrary"?
The word "arbitrary" is doing heavy lifting in the anti-Reformed argument, and it reveals a deep misunderstanding. Scripture teaches that God's choice is not arbitrary — it is according to the purpose of His will (Ephesians 1:5) and according to His own purpose and grace (2 Timothy 1:9).
God's election is not random. It is purposeful, wise, and — here's the part that offends — not based on anything in us:
"Though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad — in order that God's purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls — she was told, 'The older will serve the younger.' As it is written, 'Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.'" — Romans 9:11–13 (ESV)
Paul anticipated the exact objection that Lewis and Bar raise. And his response was not to soften the doctrine:
"You will say to me then, 'Why does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?' But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, 'Why have you made me like this?' Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?" — Romans 9:19–21 (ESV)
Paul knew that people would hear the doctrine of election and say "That's not fair!" He anticipated the objection. And instead of backing down or reframing, he doubled down: "Who are you, O man, to answer back to God?" If your theology never provokes the objection of Romans 9:19, you may not be teaching what Paul was teaching.
Lewis's philosophical argument — that foreknowledge doesn't necessitate predestination — simply ignores the fact that Scripture explicitly teaches predestination as more than foreknowledge. The Greek προορίζω (proorizō) means "to decide beforehand, to foreordain." It is not merely "to foresee" but "to determine in advance." Paul chose his words carefully. So should we.
The "Author of Evil" Smokescreen
Lewis accused Calvinism of pantheistic tendencies — if God's sovereign will determines all events, then evil becomes divinely willed, making God the "author of evil." Lewis found this morally repugnant.
This is perhaps the most emotionally powerful argument against biblical sovereignty, and it deserves a careful, honest answer. So let's give it one.
First, no serious Reformed theologian has ever taught that God is the author of evil. The Westminster Confession of Faith explicitly states: "God from all eternity did by the most wise and holy counsel of His own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass; yet so as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures" (WCF 3.1).
But more importantly, Scripture itself teaches that God ordains events — including evil events — for His purposes, without being morally culpable for the evil:
"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today." — Genesis 50:20 (ESV)
Joseph's brothers acted with genuine evil intent. They were morally responsible for their sin. Yet God meant the same event — not merely permitted it, but meant it — for good. The Hebrew word חָשַׁב (chashab) means "to plan, to devise, to purpose." God purposed the evil act of Joseph's brothers for a redemptive end.
And the supreme example:
"For truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place." — Acts 4:27–28 (ESV)
The most evil act in human history — the murder of the sinless Son of God — was predestined by God's hand and plan. Were Herod and Pilate morally responsible? Absolutely. Was it part of God's sovereign decree? Acts 4:28 says yes.
Scripture holds two truths simultaneously: God is absolutely sovereign over all events, and human beings are genuinely responsible for their choices. This is not a contradiction — it is a mystery that transcends our philosophical categories. The cross itself is the proof: the greatest evil ever committed was the greatest good ever accomplished. If your theology can't account for Acts 4:27–28, it is your theology — not God's sovereignty — that needs revision.
Lewis wanted a God whose sovereignty looked tidy and philosophically neat. But the God of Scripture is bigger than our categories. He ordains all things — including the fall, including the cross — and remains perfectly holy, perfectly just, and perfectly good in all of it.
"I form light and create darkness; I make well-being and create calamity; I am the LORD, who does all these things." — Isaiah 45:7 (ESV)
What Lewis Actually Said (That They Leave Out)
Here's the part that anti-Reformed writers using Lewis never mention: Lewis himself affirmed many doctrines that align far more closely with Reformed theology than with Arminianism. When you read Lewis carefully, the picture is far more complicated than "Lewis rejected Calvinism."
Consider what Lewis actually believed and taught:
Lewis described his own conversion in terms that any Reformed theologian would recognize: irresistible grace in action. He didn't choose God. God hunted him down. God cornered him. God broke through his resistance. Lewis's autobiography is, ironically, one of the most beautiful testimonies to sovereign grace ever written.
C.S. Lewis's own testimony — reluctant, overpowered, unable to resist — is a textbook case of what Scripture teaches about effectual calling. Lewis experienced irresistible grace. He just never reconciled his experience with his philosophical commitments. His heart knew what his head wouldn't admit.
The Verdict
Dr. Eitan Bar's article — and every article that weaponizes C.S. Lewis against Reformed soteriology — makes the same fundamental error: it treats human philosophy as the judge of divine revelation, rather than the other way around.
The arguments can be summarized simply:
Start with a philosophical premise about what God "should" be like → Find a famous author who agrees → Conclude that Scripture must be reinterpreted to match the premise.
Start with what God has revealed about Himself in Scripture → Let the text speak on its own terms → Adjust our philosophy to fit the revelation, not the other way around.
When we do this — when we let Scripture have the final word — we find that:
Lewis was a literary giant. But giants still stand under Scripture, not over it. Every argument in this article crumbles when held up to what God has actually said.
A Pastoral Word
If you came here because you've been troubled by these arguments — if someone told you that believing in God's sovereignty makes Him a monster — we want you to know something: the doctrine of God's sovereign grace is the most comforting truth in all of Scripture.
It means your salvation doesn't depend on you getting everything right. It means God didn't look down the corridors of time, see your wobbly faith, and say "Good enough." It means He chose you, called you, justified you, and will glorify you — and not one of those links depends on you holding on tight enough.
"And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." — Philippians 1:6 (ESV)
That is not a doctrine to fear. That is a doctrine to rest in.