The better stuff a creature is made of—the cleverer and stronger and freer it is—then the better it will be if it goes right, but also the worse it will be if it goes wrong. A cow cannot be very good or bad; a dog can be both better and worse; a child better and worse; an ordinary man, still more so; a man of genius, still more so; a superhuman spirit best—or worst—of all
Mere Christianity ~ CS Lewis
It's a funny thing free will. Our initial reaction is to want it and be indignant at even the thought of not having it. Merely the suggestion that we don't have free will sounds absurd at first introduction. Of course we have free will. We choose our homes; we choose our partners; we choose our activities and organisations and occupations. We create our own lives and shape our own destinies. That's what all the inspirational catchphrases tell us: 'Be whoever you want to be. Do whatever you want to do. Make your dreams come true. Your only limits are the ones you imagine.'
But then there are other inspirational catchphrases that run directly in contrast, things like: 'You were born for this. Fulfill your destiny. Do what you were made to do.' Those, too, are made to encourage us, but they actually entrap us. They say there's nothing else we can do but follow this predetermined pathway, even if it does lead to fame and success. It may be enviable, but it's not chosen. We are. We don't choose the path; we are chosen for it.
So which is it? Do we create our own way, or are we created a certain way for a certain thing? Are we free?
If we stop and think about it, we start to wonder. How did we get this way? How did we get here? We blame many of our problems, even self-inflicted ones, on bad upbringings and unfortunate circumstances. Our parents damaged us. Society rejected us. No one gave us a chance or recognised our potential.
But we also attribute our successes to others. We know better than to take exclusive credit. Again, we owe it to our parents, our peers, our communities. We couldn't have done it without their mentorship and support and encouragement. We were able because they made us so. That's why every awards ceremony extends recognition with 'thank you' speeches.
Free will gives us the liberty to take credit for our accolades, but it also makes us responsible for our faults and failures. It means we have none to blame but ourselves for our messes. We can't blame our parents; we can't blame society; we can't blame a system. It was us. Whatever happens to us, whatever becomes of us, good or bad, we do to ourselves.
It's actually a least somewhat of an unnerving, undesirable notion—free will is—because, if we take an honest look at ourselves and our lives, we realise how deeply flawed we are. No matter how much good we do or accomplish or feel, we see how much bad counterbalances it. If we don't, we can be sure it's there in greater proportion than we realise.
In my most clear-sighted moments not only do I not think myself a nice man, but I know that I am a very nasty one. I can look at some of the things I have done with horror and loathing
That's why we've come to have a more sympathetic view of pariahs—people who have labels like 'criminal' or 'addict' or 'prostitute'—especially once we talk to them, hear their story, get to know them. We realise they're not all that different from us. We start to understand them because we understand ourselves and can relate to them, even if we're totally different on the outside. And then we don't think they're really that bad after all. They were just like us. But a few bad decisions and some hard luck sent them spiraling down, while a few good decisions and some brilliant luck lifted us sky high. But ultimately, we're still the same.
For a long time I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was on man to whom I had been doing this all my life—namely myself
Except that's wrong. Yes, we are the same but also yes, they are bad. We are too. It's not just that we're good people who do bad things, but we are bad people who do bad things. We have some good in us too, but we can't completely dismiss the bad inside of us. We all have deep flaws we cannot correct. The proper view is not to elevate everyone else up but to lower ourselves down, humble ourselves among others—and before God, if you're religious. We should look for the good in others but also not forget to see the bad in ourselves. We needn't dwell in it, but we cannot dismiss it.
That is why the Christian is in a different position from other people who are trying to be good. They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one; or—if they think there is not—at least they hope to deserve approval from good men. But the Christian thinks any good he does comes from the Christ-life inside him. He does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us; just as the roof of a greenhouse does not attract the sun because it is bright, but becomes bright because the sun shines on it
That is why Christians call themselves 'slaves to Christ' and then proclaim freedom in His name, no longer slaves to sin but alive in Christ (Romans 6)
Whether or not we have free will is a question I cannot answer. Whether or not we should want it is a question I propose we contend with. I dare not claim to know the answers; I merely pose and ponder the questions. Do we have free will? Would that be desirable?
Photo by Oliver Roos on Unsplash