Chapter 29

Free Will, Faith, and the Appropriation of the Atonement

Introduction: The Bridge Between the Cross and the Believer

We have spent the last several chapters exploring the philosophical foundations that make penal substitutionary atonement a coherent and defensible doctrine. We have examined the coherence of substitutionary punishment itself (Chapter 25), the nature of divine justice and retribution (Chapter 26), the problem of punishment transfer and moral responsibility (Chapter 27), and the concepts of representation, federal headship, and corporate solidarity that ground the atonement in a real union between Christ and those He represents (Chapter 28). These are weighty matters, and I hope the reader has come away with a renewed confidence that the penal substitutionary model stands on firm philosophical ground.

But there is a question we have not yet addressed directly, and it may be the most personal question of all: How do the benefits of what Christ accomplished on the cross actually reach the individual person? If Jesus truly bore the penalty for the sins of all humanity — and I believe He did — then why isn't every person automatically saved? What is the link between what Christ did two thousand years ago on a hill outside Jerusalem and what happens in the heart of a man or woman today?

The answer, in a word, is faith. But that simple word carries enormous theological weight, and unpacking it carefully is the task of this chapter.

Here is the thesis I want to defend: While the atonement is objectively accomplished by Christ's substitutionary death, its benefits are subjectively appropriated through faith — a genuine, free human response to God's grace. This personal appropriation is not a mere afterthought or add-on. It is essential to the way the atonement "works" in the life of each individual believer. Without understanding how the objective work of Christ meets the subjective response of faith, we will have an incomplete picture of the atonement's design and purpose.

This chapter matters for another reason, too. Some of the most heated debates in all of Christian theology revolve around the very questions we are about to explore: Is faith a free human choice, or is it irresistibly imposed by God? Does the atonement save automatically, or does it require a personal response? Can people reject the salvation that Christ has provided? These are not abstract puzzles. They shape how we preach the gospel, how we understand God's character, and how we relate to Him in the daily rhythms of the Christian life.

Objective Accomplishment and Subjective Appropriation

Let me begin with a distinction that is absolutely essential for understanding the atonement properly. Theologians have long recognized that we must distinguish between two different aspects of the saving work of God: the objective accomplishment of the atonement and its subjective appropriation.

The objective accomplishment is what Christ did on the cross. It is a finished, historical event. On a Friday afternoon roughly two thousand years ago, Jesus of Nazareth was crucified outside the walls of Jerusalem. In that event, according to the consistent witness of the New Testament, He bore the penalty for the sins of the whole world. He paid the price. He absorbed the judicial consequences of human rebellion. He satisfied the demands of God's justice. This work was completed, once for all, at Calvary. It does not need to be repeated, supplemented, or improved upon. "It is finished," Jesus cried out from the cross (John 19:30). And it was.

The subjective appropriation is how the benefits of that finished work actually reach the individual person. It is the process by which what Christ accomplished "out there" in history becomes real "in here," in the heart and life of the believer. And the New Testament is absolutely clear about what that process involves: faith. Personal trust in Jesus Christ and in what He has done.

This distinction is not a modern invention. It runs throughout the entire New Testament. Consider the pattern we see again and again in the apostolic preaching: a declaration of what God has done in Christ, followed by a call to respond in faith and repentance. Peter, on the day of Pentecost, proclaims that God has made Jesus "both Lord and Christ" — that is the objective fact — and then calls his hearers to "repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins" (Acts 2:36–38 ESV). Paul, writing to the Ephesians, declares: "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast" (Ephesians 2:8–9 ESV). Grace is God's side — the objective provision. Faith is the human side — the subjective reception.

As David Allen puts it plainly, "The atonement in and of itself saves no one." That is a startling statement, so let it sink in for a moment. Allen goes on to explain that "there is nothing in the atonement itself that makes it effectual for anyone. To be effectual, the atonement must be applied by the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit."¹ He notes that this is not some controversial opinion but a truth "confirmed by the likes of such great Calvinist theologians as Charles Hodge, Robert Dabney, W. G. T. Shedd, A. H. Strong, and Millard Erickson, not to mention many others."² All orthodox Christians, Allen insists, must hold to the distinction between atonement accomplished and atonement applied.

The great seventeenth-century Puritan John Flavel made the same point with memorable clarity. He argued that whatever the Father has done in planning salvation, and whatever the Son has done in accomplishing it, all of it is unavailable to us without the Spirit's work of application.³ The Father elects, the Son redeems, but until the Holy Spirit — the "last cause," as Flavel called Him — has done His part, we cannot be saved.⁴

The nineteenth-century Reformed theologian W. G. T. Shedd drew the same distinction with even sharper precision. He argued that the expiation of sin — what happened on the cross — is distinguishable from the pardon of sin — what happens when a person believes. The entire mass of human sin was expiated by Christ's death, Shedd said, but it was not all pardoned by that death. Another transaction was necessary: the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart of the sinner, producing faith in Christ's expiatory offering, and the declarative act of God saying "your sin is forgiven you."⁵ If the work of salvation had stopped at the cross and never been applied to anyone, the cross's value would have been the same — but no one would have been saved.

We see, then, that the distinction between accomplishment and appropriation is not a trick to limit the atonement's power. It is a recognition that God has designed salvation to involve a genuine relationship between Himself and each individual person. He does not simply declare everyone saved regardless of their response. He provides the objective basis — Christ's all-sufficient sacrifice — and then invites each person to receive it by faith.

The Nature of Saving Faith

What, exactly, is this faith by which the atonement is appropriated? This is a question that requires careful attention, because the word "faith" gets used loosely in everyday speech, and its biblical meaning is far richer than many people realize.

Christian theologians have traditionally identified three essential elements of saving faith, using three Latin terms that helpfully capture different aspects of what it means to believe in Christ. These three elements are notitia, assensus, and fiducia.

Notitia refers to knowledge — the informational content of faith. To believe in Christ, you have to know certain things about Him. You need to know that He is the Son of God, that He died on the cross for sins, and that He rose again from the dead. Faith is not a blind leap into the dark. It has a specific content. Paul reminds us that "faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Romans 10:17 ESV). You cannot trust in a Savior you have never heard of. The gospel message — the good news about what God has done in Christ — provides the informational foundation for faith.

Assensus refers to assent — agreeing that the content is true. It is one thing to know what the gospel claims; it is another to believe that those claims are actually true. Many people in the ancient world knew what Christians believed about Jesus. Not all of them agreed that it was true. Assent means moving from "I know what you're saying" to "I believe that what you're saying is correct." James warns us, however, that assent alone is not enough: "You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe — and shudder!" (James 2:19 ESV). The demons have notitia and assensus. They know who God is, and they believe it is true. But they do not have saving faith.

That is because saving faith requires a third element: fiducia, which means trust — personal reliance on Christ. This is the heart of saving faith. Fiducia is the difference between believing that a chair can hold your weight and actually sitting down in it. It is the difference between believing that a doctor can cure you and actually entrusting yourself to the doctor's care. Saving faith means not only knowing about Christ and agreeing that the gospel is true, but personally entrusting yourself to Him — relying on His finished work as the sole basis for your standing before God.⁶

John Stott captured this beautifully when he wrote about the way the benefits of Christ's death must be made our own. Recalling his early life, Stott admitted that he once imagined the whole world had been "automatically put right" because Christ had died. When someone explained that Christ had died for him personally, he responded rather haughtily, "everybody knows that," as if knowing the fact was the same as receiving the benefit. But, Stott explained, "God does not impose his gifts on us willy-nilly; we have to receive them by faith."⁷ The Lord's Supper itself is a perpetual reminder of this truth: Christ gives His body and blood in death, but we must take and eat — that is, appropriate by faith what He has provided.⁸

I want to emphasize something very important here, something that has been at the heart of Protestant theology since the Reformation: faith is not a work. It is not something we do to earn salvation. It is the means by which we receive what God has already accomplished. Stott put it with characteristic clarity: "to say 'justification by faith' is merely another way of saying 'justification by Christ.' Faith has absolutely no value in itself; its value lies solely in its object."⁹ Faith, he said, is the eye that looks to Christ, the hand that lays hold of Him, the mouth that drinks the water of life. The more clearly we see the adequacy of Christ's person and work, the more obvious it becomes that we have nothing to offer. We simply receive.¹⁰

This is the meaning of the Reformation motto sola fide — by faith alone. It does not mean that faith exists alone, without love and good works following. It means that faith is the sole instrument by which we receive the gift of salvation. Good works are the fruit and evidence of genuine faith, not its basis or supplement. As Paul declared: "For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law" (Romans 3:28 ESV).

Think of it this way. Imagine a person drowning in a river. A rescuer throws them a lifeline. The drowning person grabs onto the rope and is pulled to safety. Did the drowning person "save themselves" by grabbing the rope? Of course not. The rescuer did the saving. The rope did the carrying. All the drowning person did was hold on — and even the strength to hold on came from the urgency of the situation and the availability of the rope. In the same way, faith does not save us. Christ saves us. The atonement is the lifeline. Faith is simply the act of holding on — of entrusting ourselves to the One who has done all the saving work. This is why, as Stott so memorably said, "justification by faith" is really just another way of saying "justification by Christ."

It is worth pausing to consider how different this is from the way many people think about religion. A common misconception is that Christianity is fundamentally about being a good enough person to earn God's approval — that if your good deeds outweigh your bad deeds, you make it into heaven. This is precisely what the gospel denies. We cannot earn our way into God's favor, not because God is stingy or arbitrary, but because the problem is far too deep for human effort to fix. We are not merely people who have made some mistakes. We are people with a fundamental orientation toward self rather than God, and that orientation — the Bible calls it sin — has created a judicial problem that no amount of good behavior can solve. Only the cross addresses it. And the cross is received, not earned.

Steve Jeffery, Michael Ovey, and Andrew Sach capture the pastoral significance of this beautifully. They argue that one of the great strengths of penal substitution is the assurance it provides to troubled consciences. If my salvation depended on the quality of my faith, or on the sincerity of my repentance, or on the consistency of my obedience, I could never be sure I had done enough. But if my salvation rests on what Christ has done — on a finished, objective, once-for-all sacrifice — then my assurance is anchored in something outside myself, something unshakable.⁴⁵ Faith does not save because of its quality; faith saves because of its object. Even weak faith in a strong Savior is saving faith.

Free Will and the Appropriation of the Atonement

We come now to one of the most debated questions in all of theology: What role does human freedom play in the appropriation of the atonement? Is faith a genuinely free human response, or is it irresistibly produced by God in those He has chosen? This question has divided Christians for centuries, and I do not imagine I will settle it in a single chapter. But I want to explain clearly why I believe the evidence points toward what philosophers call libertarian free will — the genuine ability to choose otherwise — and why this understanding of freedom is essential for making sense of the atonement's design.

Libertarian free will (the word "libertarian" here has nothing to do with the political movement — it is a philosophical term) refers to the idea that when a person makes a genuine choice, they really could have chosen differently. The choice is not determined in advance by prior causes in such a way that no alternative was ever truly possible. When God offers salvation through Christ and calls a person to respond in faith, that person has the real ability to say yes or no. Their response is genuine, not predetermined.¹¹

The alternative view, held by many in the Reformed or Calvinist tradition, is called compatibilism. On this view, human freedom is "compatible" with determinism. A person can be said to act "freely" as long as they are acting according to their own desires, even if those desires were themselves determined by God. On the compatibilist view, God's saving grace is irresistible — when God determines to save someone, He regenerates them (gives them new spiritual life), and this regeneration inevitably produces faith. The person believes, and they believe willingly, but they could not have done otherwise.¹²

I find the libertarian view more persuasive for several important reasons.

First, the biblical portrayal of God's relationship with human beings consistently assumes that genuine, two-way interaction is taking place. God calls, warns, pleads, invites, reasons, and sometimes expresses grief over human responses. "How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!" Jesus laments over Jerusalem (Matthew 23:37 ESV). If God had determined in advance that they would refuse, then this lament seems hollow. But if their refusal was a genuine exercise of the freedom God gave them, then Jesus' grief is real and His invitation was sincere.¹³

Second, the universal offer of the gospel makes the most sense on the libertarian view. If Christ truly died for all people — a position I hold and will defend at length in Chapter 30 — and if God genuinely desires all people to be saved (1 Timothy 2:4; 2 Peter 3:9), then the invitation to believe must be a real offer that can genuinely be accepted or rejected. On the compatibilist view, God desires all to be saved but has irresistibly determined that only some will believe. I find this difficult to reconcile with the sincerity of the universal gospel offer and with the character of God as revealed in Scripture.¹⁴

Third, genuine human responsibility — the kind of responsibility that makes moral praise and blame meaningful — seems to require the ability to have done otherwise. When God holds people accountable for rejecting the gospel, this seems to presuppose that they genuinely could have responded. As Paul writes, people are "without excuse" (Romans 1:20 ESV) — a phrase that implies they had a real opportunity to respond differently.

Now, I want to be very clear about something. Affirming libertarian free will does not mean I think people can save themselves. It does not mean I think the human will is naturally strong enough, on its own, to respond to God. Not at all. The biblical picture of humanity's fallen condition is too bleak for that. Apart from God's help, we are "dead in trespasses and sins" (Ephesians 2:1 ESV), unable and unwilling to turn to God on our own.

This is where the concept of prevenient grace becomes so important. "Prevenient" comes from a Latin word meaning "to come before." Prevenient grace is the grace of God that comes before our decision, enabling us to respond but not compelling us. It is the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart of every person, drawing them toward God, opening their eyes to their need, illuminating the truth of the gospel, and giving them the genuine ability to respond in faith. Without this grace, no one could believe. With it, everyone has a real opportunity to say yes to God's offer.¹⁵

The great Wesleyan tradition has always emphasized this balance. John Wesley insisted that the human will, left to itself after the Fall, is utterly incapable of choosing God. But God, in His mercy, extends prevenient grace to all people, restoring a measure of freedom and enabling — though not coercing — a genuine response of faith. This preserves both the radical need for grace and the genuine freedom of the human will.¹⁶

I find this framework deeply satisfying for several reasons. It takes seriously the biblical teaching on human depravity — we really are lost and helpless without God's intervention. But it also takes seriously the biblical teaching on God's universal love and the genuine offer of the gospel to all people. And it preserves the personal, relational character of salvation. God is not programming robots to love Him. He is inviting free creatures to trust Him — and the choice is real.

We should also note that this understanding of prevenient grace finds support across a wide range of Christian traditions. It is not merely a Wesleyan or Arminian distinctive. The Eastern Orthodox tradition has always insisted on what they call synergeia (συνέργεια) — the cooperation between divine grace and human freedom in the process of salvation. This does not mean the Orthodox view human effort as contributing to the basis of salvation (which remains Christ's work alone), but rather that God respects the free response of the human person. The patristic writers — especially the Greek Fathers like John Chrysostom, John of Damascus, and Maximus the Confessor — consistently affirmed that God's grace does not override human freedom but works with it. As John of Damascus put it, God foreknows all things but does not predetermine all things.⁴⁶

Even within the Roman Catholic tradition, the concept of prevenient grace has long been affirmed. The Council of Trent (1545–1563) declared that the beginning of justification comes from God's prevenient grace through Jesus Christ — a grace that calls and assists sinners, enabling them to turn to God freely. The Catholic tradition differs from the Wesleyan tradition on various details, but the basic principle is shared: grace precedes and enables the free human response, without overriding it.⁴⁷

The convergence of these traditions on this point is striking. It suggests that the libertarian understanding of the faith response — grace-enabled but not grace-coerced — represents a broad mainstream of Christian thinking about how salvation works in the individual. The strict compatibilist or determinist view, while held by many sincere and brilliant Christians, represents one important strand within the broader tradition, not the whole of it.

The Atonement and Justification: How the Cross Grounds Our Forgiveness

We need now to explore how the objective accomplishment of the atonement and the subjective response of faith come together in the doctrine of justification. This is one of the most important doctrines in all of Christian theology, and it is inseparable from the penal substitutionary understanding of the atonement.

Justification — from the Greek dikaiōsis (δικαίωσις) — is a forensic term. That means it belongs to the world of law courts. To "justify" someone in the biblical sense does not mean to make them morally righteous in their character (that is the work of sanctification). It means to declare them righteous — to pronounce a verdict in their favor. When God justifies a sinner, He is rendering an official judicial declaration: "This person is righteous in my sight. The legal case against them is settled. They are no longer under condemnation."¹⁷

But here is the critical question: On what basis does God make this declaration? If the person is actually guilty — and all of us are — how can a just God declare them righteous? Isn't that a legal fiction? Isn't it dishonest?

This is where penal substitutionary atonement becomes absolutely essential. God can declare the believing sinner righteous because Christ has already borne the penalty for their sin. The legal debt has been paid. The judicial consequences have been absorbed. As Paul puts it: God is "just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Romans 3:26 ESV). Notice that Paul emphasizes both sides: God is just — He has not swept sin under the rug — and He is the justifier — He declares believers righteous. Both are true, and both are true because of what Christ accomplished on the cross.¹⁸

William Lane Craig has developed this connection with particular philosophical precision. He argues that divine forgiveness should be understood on the analogy of a legal pardon issued by a ruler, not merely on the analogy of private, person-to-person forgiveness. When a private individual forgives someone who has wronged them, all that is involved is a subjective change of attitude — letting go of resentment and bitterness. But when God forgives, something much more than a change of attitude occurs. God's forgiveness removes our liability to punishment and cancels the demands of retributive justice upon us. The just punishment we deserve is gone. That is why Paul can say, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1 ESV).¹⁹

Craig's pardon analogy is richly illuminating. In the American legal system, a presidential pardon is an act of grace that exempts a convicted individual from the punishment the law demands for their crime. But a pardon does much more than merely cancel a prison sentence. It removes all the legal consequences of the conviction. It restores the person's civil rights. In the words of the U.S. Supreme Court, a pardon "so far blots out the offence, that afterwards it cannot be imputed to him to prevent the assertion of his legal rights. It gives him new credit and capacity, and rehabilitates him to that extent in his former position."²⁰

Do you see the theological parallel? When God pardons the believing sinner, He does not merely remove the threat of punishment. He bestows upon the pardoned person "the full rights and privileges of a child of God," as Craig puts it — adoption into God's family (Ephesians 1:5), an inheritance in heaven (1 Peter 1:4), citizenship in God's kingdom (Philippians 3:20), and access to the Father (Romans 5:2).²¹ A divine pardon is not just forgiveness. It is complete restoration. It is new life. "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV).

The Pardon Must Be Accepted: Why the Atonement Requires a Response

Craig takes the pardon analogy one crucial step further. In the American legal system, the courts have long debated whether a presidential pardon must be accepted in order to take effect. In the landmark 1833 case United States v. Wilson, Chief Justice John Marshall held that a pardon is "a deed, to the validity of which, delivery is essential, and delivery is not complete without acceptance."²² A pardon, Marshall said, may be rejected by the person to whom it is offered. If it is rejected, no court has the power to force it on the individual against their will.

This principle was affirmed in the 1915 case Burdick v. United States, where the Supreme Court upheld the right of an individual to refuse a presidential pardon. The court noted that the acceptance of a pardon carries an implied admission of guilt. An innocent person might prefer to suffer the consequences of conviction rather than accept a pardon and implicitly confess to a crime they did not commit.²³

Craig sees deep theological significance in this legal principle. Just as a presidential pardon, to be effective, must be accepted by the one to whom it is offered, so also a divine pardon must be accepted through the free response of faith. "Because it is Christ and not we who has discharged the sentence for our sins," Craig writes, "our redemption is not accomplished unless and until we receive God's pardon." He adds: "If anyone refuses the pardon offered by God, then Christ's sacrifice avails him nothing, for he has rejected the satisfaction of God's justice wrought by Christ."²⁴

This is especially clear when we recognize that God's pardon is conditional — conditioned on repentance and faith. A conditional pardon, in the legal world, is effective only when the conditions are met. The theological analogue is straightforward: God extends His pardon to all people (the atonement has universal scope — see Chapter 30), but the pardon is conditioned on faith. Those who believe receive the benefits of Christ's atoning work. Those who refuse the offer remain, as Craig puts it, "guilty before God's bar and so liable to punishment."²⁵

This is why Paul writes, "Those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness will reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ" (Romans 5:17 ESV). Notice the word "receive." Grace is a gift, freely offered. But a gift must be received. You can hold out a present to someone, but if they refuse to take it, it remains unopened and unenjoyed.

Allen makes the same point from a different angle. He insists that nowhere in Scripture are we told that atonement equals salvation. The benefits of the atonement must be applied to the individual to be effective, and this application is clearly conditioned in the New Testament upon faith in Christ. "The cross itself, unapplied, saves no one."²⁶ The atonement is sufficient for all — it is universally adequate — but it becomes efficient (effective) for those who believe.

Answering the "Double Payment" Objection

At this point, a sharp objection may arise in the reader's mind. If Christ has truly paid the penalty for the sins of all humanity, then hasn't the debt already been discharged? If the penalty is already paid, how can God justly require anything further — including faith — before applying the benefits? Isn't that like paying a bill twice? And if the penalty has been paid, why does anyone end up condemned?

This is sometimes called the "double payment" objection, and it has been pressed most forcefully by those who hold to limited atonement (the view that Christ died only for the elect). As we will see in Chapter 31, the logic runs like this: If Christ paid the penalty for the sins of all people, and if some people nevertheless perish, then either Christ's payment was insufficient (which no evangelical affirms) or God is unjustly punishing some sins twice — once in Christ and again in the sinner.

I believe this objection rests on a misunderstanding. It assumes what we might call a strict "commercial" or "ledger-book" model of the atonement — the idea that Christ's death paid the exact price for the exact sins of the exact number of people who would eventually believe, and that this transaction was complete in itself, requiring nothing further. On this model, faith adds nothing; it is simply the inevitable result of an already-completed transaction.²⁷

But I do not think the New Testament supports this commercial model. As we discussed above, the New Testament consistently distinguishes between what Christ accomplished and how individuals receive the benefits. The accomplishment is universal in scope — Christ died for all. The appropriation is conditional — through faith. This is not "double payment." It is the distinction between the provision of a pardon and the acceptance of that pardon.

Think of it this way. Suppose a wealthy benefactor pays off the mortgages of every home in a neighborhood. The money has been paid. The debts are covered. But each homeowner still needs to go to the bank, sign the paperwork, and accept the payment on their behalf. If someone stubbornly refuses to complete the paperwork — insists on continuing to make monthly payments, or simply ignores the gift — their mortgage remains their burden, not because the payment was insufficient, but because they refused to receive it. The problem is not with the gift but with the reception.²⁸

As Craig explains, Christ's satisfaction of divine justice is the precondition for God's pardon, not the automatic activation of it. The penalty has been paid, which means that God now has a just basis on which He can pardon sinners. But the pardon itself is extended on the condition of faith. God does not override human freedom by imposing the pardon unilaterally. He offers it, and each person is invited — indeed, urged — to accept it.²⁹

I want to be clear about why this distinction is so important. Some defenders of limited atonement argue that if Christ bore the penalty for all sins, then the sin of unbelief was also included, and therefore no one can be condemned for unbelief since that sin too has been paid for. But this argument confuses categories. The atonement provides the objective ground on which God can forgive. Faith is the subjective condition on which forgiveness is actually applied to the individual. These are two different things. An analogy might help: a government might pass a general amnesty law that covers all offenses committed during a certain period. The amnesty is objectively real and genuinely covers all offenses. But if the amnesty requires the offender to come forward and register — and some offenders refuse to do so — their refusal does not mean the amnesty was insufficient. It means they did not avail themselves of a benefit that was genuinely available to them.

Allen drives this point home with particular force. He insists that the extent of the atonement and the application of the atonement must not be conflated. The atonement is universal in its extent — Christ died for all people without exception. But the atonement is particular in its application — it is applied only to those who believe. The provision is unconditional; the reception is conditional. And the condition is faith.⁴⁸

This is also why the "forgiveness negation" objection fails. Some critics have argued that if the penalty is paid, there is nothing left to forgive — you can have payment or forgiveness, but not both. But as Craig demonstrates through his extended analysis of the legal pardon, payment and pardon are not mutually exclusive. A pardon can be issued even after a sentence has been fully served, as happens regularly with presidential pardons. The pardon adds something that mere payment of the penalty does not: it restores the person's full standing and rights. Similarly, Christ's bearing of the penalty provides the just basis for God's pardon, and the pardon itself bestows upon the believer the full standing and privileges of a child of God.³⁰

The Calvinist Alternative: A Fair Hearing

I have argued for libertarian free will and conditional appropriation through faith. But fairness demands that I acknowledge the strength and seriousness of the Calvinist alternative, which has been held by many great Christians throughout history — people whose love for Christ and commitment to Scripture I deeply respect.

The classic Calvinist position holds that, because of the Fall, human beings are so thoroughly corrupted by sin that they are utterly unable to respond to God on their own. This is the doctrine of "total depravity" (the "T" in the well-known TULIP acrostic). On this view, God must first regenerate a person — give them new spiritual life — before they can exercise faith. Faith, then, is the result of regeneration, not its cause. And since God regenerates only those He has unconditionally elected, faith is given only to the elect. Those who believe do so because God has irresistibly drawn them.³¹

I want to honor the deep pastoral instinct behind this position. Calvinists are right to insist that salvation is entirely of grace, that human beings cannot save themselves, and that the glory for salvation belongs to God alone. These are profoundly biblical truths that I affirm wholeheartedly.

Where I part company with the Calvinist system is on the question of whether God's grace is irresistible and whether faith is the result of a prior, unconditional election. I find that the biblical data points in a different direction. The Bible presents God as genuinely desiring the salvation of all people (1 Timothy 2:4; 2 Peter 3:9), as sending Christ to die for all people (1 John 2:2; 1 Timothy 2:6; Hebrews 2:9), and as sincerely offering the gospel to all people with a genuine invitation to respond. If God has already determined who will believe and who will not, and if His grace is irresistible for the elect and withheld from the rest, then these universal invitations seem less than fully sincere.³²

Moreover, the Calvinist system, when combined with limited atonement, creates a theological framework in which Christ did not actually die for the non-elect. I have argued throughout this book — and will argue at greater length in Chapters 30–31 — that this position is exegetically untenable. The universal scope of the atonement, which I believe the New Testament teaches clearly, fits naturally with the view that God's prevenient grace enables all people to respond freely, and that faith is a genuine human response made possible by grace but not determined by it.³³

I should note that many within the Reformed tradition itself have rejected limited atonement while holding to other elements of Calvinism. The so-called "Amyraldian" or "moderate Calvinist" position affirms that Christ died for all people but that God's effectual calling is given only to the elect. While I differ from this position on the nature of the calling, it demonstrates that even within Reformed theology, the universal scope of the atonement has significant support.³⁴

Justification and the Imputation of Righteousness

Having discussed faith and free will, I want to return briefly to the doctrine of justification and connect it more explicitly to the atonement. When God justifies the believing sinner, two things happen simultaneously. First, the sinner's guilt is removed — their sins are "not counted against them" (2 Corinthians 5:19). Second, the righteousness of Christ is credited to the sinner's account — they are "clothed" with Christ's own perfect standing before God.

This is the doctrine of imputation. Just as our sins were imputed (credited, reckoned) to Christ on the cross — "For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin" (2 Corinthians 5:21 ESV) — so also Christ's righteousness is imputed to us when we believe. It is the great exchange: He takes our sin; we receive His righteousness. As Paul completes the verse: "so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21 ESV).³⁵

This double imputation is grounded in the concepts of representation and union that we explored in Chapter 28. Because Christ is our representative — our federal head — what is true of Him is reckoned to be true of those who are "in Him." His death counts as our death. His resurrection counts as our life. His righteousness counts as our righteousness. And the mechanism by which we enter into this representative relationship is faith. When we trust in Christ, we are united to Him, and all the benefits of His atoning work become ours.

Without penal substitutionary atonement, this forensic dimension of justification collapses. If Christ did not bear the penalty for our sins, then there is no judicial basis for God to declare us righteous. If no penalty was paid, then God's declaration of "not guilty" is either a legal fiction (God pretending we are something we are not) or an act of injustice (God ignoring the demands of His own law). But because Christ truly bore our penalty — because divine justice has been genuinely satisfied — God's declaration of righteousness is both real and just. He is, as Paul says, "just and the justifier" (Romans 3:26 ESV).³⁶

The Lutheran theologian Franz Pieper expressed this with particular power. He noted that Christ "paid the entire debt, 'mathematically' and 'juridically' computed, and in His resurrection received God's receipt for it." That receipt, Pieper said, is contained in the gospel, and the gospel, through the powerful working of the Holy Spirit, produces faith. "So a man is justified before God sola fide," Pieper concludes — excluding works. Faith is counted by God as righteousness, not because faith is itself a meritorious act, but because it "accepts the paid and receipted bill" — it receives the finished work of Christ.³⁷

A Brief Word on the Postmortem Opportunity

Before concluding this chapter, I want to briefly address a question that arises naturally from everything we have discussed: What about those who have never heard the gospel? If the atonement is objectively sufficient for all but must be subjectively appropriated through faith, and if faith requires knowledge of the gospel (notitia), then what happens to the billions of people throughout history who never had a genuine opportunity to hear about Jesus Christ?

This is one of the most agonizing questions in all of theology, and I do not think it admits of easy answers. But I believe the evidence — both biblical and theological — points toward the possibility of a postmortem opportunity for salvation. That is, those who never had a genuine chance to hear and respond to the gospel in this life may receive that opportunity after death, with the final opportunity coming at or during the last judgment.³⁸

Let me be very clear about what I am not saying. I am not saying that there is any way to be saved apart from Christ's atoning work. There is not. "There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12 ESV). And I am not saying that faith is unnecessary — it is essential, for all the reasons we have discussed in this chapter. What I am saying is that the timing of when a person has the opportunity to exercise faith may not be limited to the span of their earthly life.

The basis of salvation remains unchanged: Christ's substitutionary death, which objectively accomplishes redemption for all. The means of appropriation remains unchanged: personal faith in Christ. What the postmortem opportunity provides is the subjective access — the chance to hear, understand, and respond — for those to whom that access was not available in this life. The atonement's universal scope provides the objective foundation. Prevenient grace provides the enabling power. And faith, whether exercised in this life or in the encounter with Christ after death, provides the means of appropriation.³⁹

This view is consistent with the character of God as revealed in Scripture — a God who "is not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance" (2 Peter 3:9 ESV) and who "desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Timothy 2:4 ESV). A God who truly desires the salvation of all people, and who has provided an atonement sufficient for all, would not, I believe, condemn anyone who never had a fair chance to respond to the gospel. This is not a denial of the gospel's urgency — those who hear the gospel in this life should respond now, without delay. But it is a recognition that God's mercy is wider than our theological systems sometimes allow.⁴⁰

How the Models Fit Together: Appropriation Across the Atonement Spectrum

Throughout this book, I have argued that the atonement is a multi-faceted reality, with penal substitution standing at the center and other models arrayed around it as complementary dimensions (see Chapter 24 for the full integrative argument). It is worth pausing here to note that the theme of appropriation through faith is not unique to the penal substitutionary model. It cuts across all the major atonement models, reinforcing the point that PSA is the center around which the others are organized.

Consider the Christus Victor model (Chapter 21). Christ has won the victory over sin, death, and the powers of evil. But the believer must appropriate that victory by faith. Paul tells us to "put on the whole armor of God" (Ephesians 6:11 ESV) — language that implies an active, faith-based appropriation of what Christ has already accomplished. The victory is won, but we must stand in it.

Consider the moral influence model (Chapter 22). The cross displays the love of God in a way that is meant to transform the human heart. But that transforming power is experienced only by those who actually look to the cross in faith and allow its message to reshape their lives. The love of God displayed at Calvary does not automatically transform anyone; it transforms those who respond to it.

Consider recapitulation and theosis (Chapter 23). Christ has taken our broken human nature into Himself and healed it. But we participate in that healed humanity through our union with Christ — a union entered into by faith and maintained through the ongoing life of the Spirit. The Eastern Orthodox tradition rightly emphasizes that salvation is not merely a legal declaration but a real transformation. But even that transformation is appropriated through faith and sustained through a living relationship with Christ.

In every case, the pattern is the same: God acts objectively; we respond subjectively. The atonement provides; faith receives. And penal substitution stands at the center because it addresses the most fundamental problem — our guilt before God's justice — which makes all the other dimensions of salvation possible. Christ's bearing of the penalty is the mechanism by which the victory is won (the "record of debt" is cancelled, so the powers have no claim — Colossians 2:14–15), the supreme demonstration of love that inspires transformation (Romans 5:8), and the basis on which we are welcomed into the divine life (theosis).⁴¹

The Role of the Holy Spirit in Appropriation

We must not close this chapter without discussing the role of the Holy Spirit in the appropriation of the atonement. The New Testament does not present faith as something we generate entirely on our own, out of our own spiritual resources. Faith is a response to God's initiative — and that initiative comes to us through the work of the Holy Spirit.

It is the Spirit who convicts the world "concerning sin and righteousness and judgment" (John 16:8 ESV). It is the Spirit who illuminates the truth of the gospel so that it moves from mere information to living reality in the hearer's heart. It is the Spirit who draws people to Christ (John 6:44), who opens eyes that were blind (2 Corinthians 4:4–6), and who produces the gift of faith itself (1 Corinthians 12:9). Even our ability to confess Jesus as Lord depends on the Spirit's work: "No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except in the Holy Spirit" (1 Corinthians 12:3 ESV).⁴²

This is fully consistent with the libertarian view I have defended. The Spirit enables faith without coercing it. He opens the door, but He does not force anyone through it. He creates the conditions under which genuine faith becomes possible — conditions that did not exist before His gracious intervention — and then the individual responds freely. This is what makes the drama of salvation so deeply personal. God does everything necessary to make salvation possible. He provides the objective basis (the cross). He extends the enabling grace (the Spirit's drawing). He sends the gospel message (the church's witness). And then He waits, with infinite patience and love, for the human heart to respond. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock," says the risen Christ. "If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20 ESV).⁴³

Allen emphasizes this point powerfully. Salvation, he insists, is both an objective and a subjective reality. It is accomplished through the death of Christ on the cross and through the application of the benefits of His death by the Holy Spirit. We participate in the life of the triune God "through the work of Christ as the ground of its possibility, and through the agency of the Holy Spirit as its actualization."⁴⁴ The whole Trinity is involved: the Father plans, the Son accomplishes, and the Spirit applies. This is the beautiful Trinitarian structure of the gospel.

Conclusion: The Cross Offered, the Cross Received

Let me draw the threads of this chapter together. We have covered a great deal of ground, and I want to make sure the central argument is clear.

The atonement is objectively accomplished by Christ's substitutionary death on the cross. It is a finished work, sufficient for all people, completed once for all at Calvary. But this objective accomplishment must be subjectively appropriated through faith — a genuine, free human response to God's grace, enabled by the Holy Spirit's prevenient work in the heart.

Faith is not a work that earns salvation. It is the instrument by which salvation is received — the hand that accepts the gift, the mouth that drinks the water of life. Saving faith involves knowledge of the gospel (notitia), agreement that it is true (assensus), and personal trust in Christ (fiducia). All three elements are essential.

I have argued that libertarian free will — the genuine ability to choose otherwise — provides the best framework for understanding how faith operates. God enables the response through prevenient grace but does not coerce it. This preserves the sincerity of God's universal offer, the reality of human responsibility, and the personal character of the relationship between God and each individual.

Justification — the forensic declaration of righteousness — is grounded in the atonement. God can declare guilty sinners righteous because Christ has borne their penalty. The "great exchange" of 2 Corinthians 5:21 — our sin credited to Christ, His righteousness credited to us — is the heart of the gospel. Without penal substitution, this forensic dimension of justification loses its foundation.

The divine pardon procured by Christ's death must be accepted through faith, just as a legal pardon must be accepted to take effect. God offers the pardon to all, but it is conditioned on the response of faith. Those who believe receive the full benefits of Christ's atoning work. Those who refuse remain under condemnation — not because the atonement was insufficient, but because they rejected the gift.

And for those who never had a genuine opportunity to hear the gospel in this life, I have suggested that the possibility of a postmortem encounter with Christ preserves both the necessity of faith and the justice and mercy of God. The basis of salvation remains Christ's cross. The means remains faith. The timing may extend beyond death, so that no one is condemned without a genuine opportunity to respond.

The cross, then, is not merely an event in history. It is an offer — the most extraordinary offer ever made. God holds it out to every human being and says, in effect: "My Son bore the penalty for your sin. The price has been paid. The pardon is prepared. Will you receive it?" And everything — truly everything — depends on how we answer that question.

Bibliography

Allen, David L. The Atonement: A Biblical, Theological, and Historical Study of the Cross of Christ. Nashville: B&H Academic, 2019.

Berkhof, Louis. Systematic Theology. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1938.

Clifford, Alan C. Atonement and Justification: English Evangelical Theology, 1640–1790. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.

Craig, William Lane. Atonement and the Death of Christ: An Exegetical, Historical, and Philosophical Exploration. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2020.

————. The Only Wise God: The Compatibility of Divine Foreknowledge and Human Freedom. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987.

Edwards, Jonathan. Freedom of the Will. Edited by Paul Ramsey. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1957.

Fackre, Gabriel. "Divine Perseverance." In What About Those Who Have Never Heard? Three Views on the Destiny of the Unevangelized, edited by John Sanders, 71–95. Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1995.

Ferguson, Sinclair B. The Holy Spirit. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 1996.

Fischer, John M. The Metaphysics of Free Will. Oxford: Blackwell, 1994.

Grudem, Wayne. Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994.

Hasker, William. God, Time, and Knowledge. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989.

Jeffery, Steve, Michael Ovey, and Andrew Sach. Pierced for Our Transgressions: Rediscovering the Glory of Penal Substitution. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007.

John of Damascus. An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series 2, vol. 9. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994.

Kane, Robert. The Significance of Free Will. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996.

Louth, Andrew. St John Damascene: Tradition and Originality in Byzantine Theology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Marshall, I. Howard. Aspects of the Atonement: Cross and Resurrection in the Reconciling of God and Humanity. Colorado Springs: Paternoster, 2007.

Morris, Leon. The Apostolic Preaching of the Cross. 3rd ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965.

Oden, Thomas C. John Wesley's Scriptural Christianity. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994.

Olson, Roger E. Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2006.

Piper, John. Five Points: Towards a Deeper Experience of God's Grace. Fearn, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2013.

Schreiner, Thomas R. Faith Alone: The Doctrine of Justification. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2015.

Sproul, R. C. Chosen by God. Wheaton, IL: Tyndale, 1986.

Stott, John R. W. The Cross of Christ. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006.

Walls, Jerry L. Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory: Rethinking the Things That Matter Most. Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2015.