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Is the Future a ‘Done Deal?’
Reconsidering Divine Omniscience

By C. S. Cowles

Does God know the future exhaustively? Does He know the date and circumstances of your death or the color of your unborn great-grandchildren’s eyes? Does God know who will finally be in heaven and hell?

Absolutely! Thus saith theologians from St. Augustine in the fourth century to Evangelicals in the 21st. If God is perfect in all His attributes, and if knowledge is one of His essential attributes, then it follows that God knows all things perfectly including the future. That God knows the future exhaustively has to be the case, according to John Calvin, for what God predestines, He obviously foreknows. Though James Arminius took issue with Calvin over the role of free will in determining human destiny, he accepted the classical view of divine omniscience that holds that God stands outside and beyond the time-space continuum, and thus sees the past, present, and future as an eternal present.

Consequently, whether determined by divine decree (Calvin) or human choices (Arminius), or as is more likely, some combination of the two, the future is already settled. Methodist theologian Tom Oden writes, “God does not perceive fragmentarily as humans perceive, as if from a particular nexus of time, but knows exhaustively, in eternal simultaneity.”1 To suggest otherwise, cautions Bruce Ware, is to deny God’s “absolute lordship over all space and time, his universal and inviolable sovereignty, his flawlessly wise and meticulous providence, his undiminished and infinite perfection, and his majestic and incomparable glory.”2

The Case for a Closed Future

Though the classical ‘omni’ descriptions of God’s essential attributes are derived primarily from Neoplatonic ideas of His hyper-transcendence and immutability, this does not mean they have no scriptural basis. To the contrary, many biblical texts can be cited that seem to support God’s exhaustive knowledge of all future events.
I God is often portrayed as the sovereign Lord of the entire sweep of human history: “I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come” (Isaiah 46:9-10; see 48:3-5).

Long before the Israelites even existed as a people, God told Abraham his offspring would sojourn in Egypt for 400 years, and afterward would “come out with great possessions” (Genesis 15:13-14).

Jeremiah predicted that after 70 years God would restore the exiles to their land (chapter 29).

Twice in Scripture, prophets named individuals and described events in their lives before they were born (1 Kings 13:2-3; 2 Kings 22:1, 23:15-16; Isaiah 44:28; Psalm 139:16).

A striking number of Old Testament prophecies concerning Jesus were fulfilled. Sixteen times in Matthew alone, we find some variation of this expression: “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet” (Matthew 1:22).

God not only foreknew but also foreordained Christ’s coming from “before the foundation of the world” (1 Peter 1:20). And three times in Mark’s Gospel alone, Jesus predicted His own passion, death, and resurrection (Mark 8:31).

Both testaments contain more than enough end-time prophecies showing “[Jesus’] servants what must soon take place” (Revelation 1:1) to give specialists in eschatology fertile soil to plow.

Given the role prophecy plays in the Scriptures, it seems abundantly clear that “what we consider to be future events are to God not future but present events, so what we call divine foreknowledge is to God simply present knowledge.”3 Thus, the biblical evidence and the logic derived from it offer incontrovertible support for the classical view of divine omniscience. Or does it?

Problems with the Classical View

While these passages “celebrate God’s sovereign control over the future,” Gregory Boyd cautions, “They do not teach that the future is exhaustively settled.”4 When viewed in their larger context, these proof-texts show that while some things about the future are determined solely by God and thus fully known to Him, many others are not. When God says, for instance, “I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come,” the verse does not end there. It goes on to say, “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please” (Isaiah 46:9-10, emphasis added). The foreknowledge spoken of in this passage, and many others like it, has to do with God’s purposes and intentions. This, however, does not necessarily refer to all futures. The Scriptures make it abundantly clear, from Adam to Armageddon, that while God’s plans are to prosper us and not to harm us (Jeremiah 29:11), His gracious purposes are often thwarted by human perfidy. Boyd concludes, “The future is partly open and partly closed.”5

There is a larger problem with the traditional understanding of divine omniscience. Even if it is allowed that humans play a significant role in shaping the future, it is still determinism by another name. To claim, as Oden does, “Human freedom remains freedom, significantly self-determining, even [though] divinely foreknown”6 involves a logical impossibility: namely, the future cannot unfold in any other way than that which God foresees. Thus, our intuition of freedom is illusory in that the only option open to us is the one already known to God. To claim otherwise would be to admit a deficiency in His omniscience.

If one were to think about it, the classical model of omniscience drains all the drama out of life. It is the difference between being in the stands at the Rose Bowl watching a live NCAA National Championship football game where the outcome is in doubt until the clock runs out, and viewing a video of that same game. The notion that God knew both the game and its outcome exhaustively from “before the foundation of the world” not only strains credulity but also renders all such contests farcical.

Perhaps the real issue is not the scope of God’s foreknowledge, but rather a flawed understanding of time. The classical doctrine of divine omniscience assumes time is a closed continuum with a precise beginning and end, and all its constituent elements are already fixed. We who are within that nexus of time experience it as past, present, and future. God, however, “as independent, necessary being views all times as eternal now.”7

To illustrate how this works, C. S. Lewis offered the analogy of a parade, and the difference between what a person standing on the sidewalk sees as opposed to another who views it from the top of a very tall building. The person on the ground can take in only that tiny slice of the parade passing through his limited field of vision. The person on top of the tall building, however, sees the whole parade from beginning to end. Furthermore, she sees it not in terms of ‘already’ and ‘not yet,’ but as a whole, timeless piece.

That analogy works wonderfully until we ask, “What if there is no parade?” Can the observer on the top of the building see a parade that as yet has no existence? Granted, she may have watched enough parades to have a clear idea of what this particular parade might look like, and may even have in hand, like the Rose Parade telecasters, a preprinted program spelling out every facet of the parade in minute detail. Yet, given the infinite number of contingencies involved when dealing with fallible machines, fickle animals, and unpredictable humans, it may be asked if even the most astute observer can know how this particular parade is going to unfold, or whether it will happen at all.

Perhaps the fundamental question regarding divine omniscience is not theological but epistemological: can that which as yet has no existence be known exhaustively? Granted, God’s knowledge of natural law and human proclivities is without limit. Thus, He is in a position to predict, with a high degree of probability, what might occur. However, given the often chaotic and random nature of inanimate physical elements interacting with all animate creatures, especially human, can even God know for sure how it is all going to turn out? Certainly, He knows all that can be known. He knows His own mind and what He has purposed to do, and may know every possibility exhaustively.

However, can God see precisely a particular future that does not yet exist until it actually occurs? That is, if humans are genuinely free to choose between multiple alternatives. Not knowing what cannot be known does not represent a deficiency in God’s omniscience, but a frank acknowledgement of the unfolding nature of the time/space continuum He himself created. Every new day is a new creation full of virtually infinite possibilities that cannot be known exhaustively until that day dawns and is actualized.

The Case for an Open Future

While isolated texts may be extracted from the Scriptures that lend support to the classical doctrine of divine omniscience, the whole sweep of the biblical narrative strongly favors an open view of the future. The six days of creation, for instance, suggest time is not an already fixed datum but an unfolding ‘coming into being’ reality. Consider this sampling of biblical evidence that presumes a genuinely open future for the world, humankind, and God.

The operative divine command at every stage of the creative process is, “Let there be” (Genesis 1:3ff.). Can that which as yet has no ‘being’ be known exhaustively before it actually exists, especially in its myriad interactions with other ‘beings’ that also have inherent autonomy and potencies?

God is reported as curious as to what names Adam will give to the animals (Genesis 2:19), which would not be the case if He already knew. It is instructive to note that the Qur’an reports Allah telling Adam what to name the animals. This, of course, is in accord with the doctrine of divine determinism at the heart of Islamic as well as Calvin’s theology.

God seems surprised that Adam and Eve would succumb to the serpent’s suggestions, and that they would flee from His presence. Thus He calls plaintively, “Adam, where are you?” (Genesis 3:9).

God is shocked at the appalling depths of “wickedness” and “corruption” to which pre-Flood human beings had fallen. If He could have foreseen how they would abuse their freedom, why would He say, “I am grieved that I have made them” (Genesis 6:8)?

When the newly liberated Israelites reverted to idolatry in the matter of the golden calf, the Lord threatened to destroy them all, and raise up a new covenant people from Moses’ progeny. Moses, however, would have none of it. Not only did he passionately intercede for his people but reminded Yahweh of the covenant He made to “Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, to whom you swore by your own self” (Exodus 32:13). Remarkably, “the Lord repented of the evil which he thought to do unto his people” (Exodus 32:14, KJV). Surely, this presents an enigma for defenders of God’s exhaustive foreknowledge.

God is often surprised by what humans do, such as when He expected the vineyard to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes (Isaiah 5:2-5). He says of Israel, “I thought . . . she would return to me; but she did not” (Jeremiah 3:6-7, see also 19-20). Three times in Jeremiah alone, the Lord expresses shock over Israel’s ungodly behavior by saying they were doing things “I did not command or mention, nor did it enter my mind” (Jeremiah 19:5; 7:31; 32:35). Clearly, humans are capable of actions God neither foreknows nor even imagines. God can be and is often ‘surprised.’

God changed His mind about the perpetuity of both Eli’s house and Saul’s dynasty (1 Samuel 2:30-31; 13:13; 14:35). He changed His mind about destroying Nineveh (Jonah 3:10). Forty times in the Old Testament He is reported as having changed His mind, most often in response to intercessory prayer (Numbers 11:1-2; 14:12-20; 16:20-35, 41-48; Deuteronomy 9:13-25; Judges 10:13-16; 2 Samuel 24:17-25). Which raises the question: how can God change His mind about that which, in His mind at least, is already eternally settled?

Often in Scripture the extent of God’s involvement is conditioned upon human response (Exodus 13:17; Jeremiah 26:3, 19; Matthew 26:39; 2 Peter 3:9, 12). Human initiative, as it interfaces with God’s will and purposes, creates a future fundamentally different from other possible futures had the choices and actions been different.

There are a striking number of instances where biblical prophecies were not fulfilled. Joseph’s father never bowed down to him (Genesis 37:9-10). The Assyrians did not destroy Jerusalem in the 8th century B.C. (Micah 3:9-12). Israel’s return from Babylonian exile did not usher in a golden age (Isaiah 41:14-20; Jeremiah 30:1-11). Despite Ezekiel’s prophecy, Nebuchadnezzar did not conquer the city of Tyre (Ezekiel 26-27). Jesus did not cast the wicked into the fire as John the Baptist had prophesied (Luke 3:1-9). Joel’s prediction that the advent of the Holy Spirit would be accompanied by spectacular cosmic disturbances did not occur (Acts 2:19-20). Paul was mistaken about the timing of the second coming (1 Thessalonians 4:17). “God is free in the manner of fulfilling prophecy,” notes Clark Pinnock, “and is not bound to a script, even his own. The world is a project and God works on it creatively; he is free to strike out in new directions.”8

More important than any number of proof-texts, the whole sweep of the Bible paints a portrait of a dynamic covenant-partnership between God and humankind where human choices and actions really matter, and in which the future is genuinely open. The very fact that the conditional “if” appears several thousands of times in Scripture implies that humans are continually confronted with a variety of real possibilities, and these in turn have a vast range of consequences that cannot be known exhaustively until they occur.
Does such a view diminish God’s sovereignty and detract from His glory, as critics of Open Theism such as Bruce Ware claim? Not at all. It takes a far greater and more innovative sovereign to govern a dynamic and changing world populated by truly free moral agents than it does to direct a world of automatons where the outcome of everything is already known in advance. A chess master, for instance, cannot know for sure what moves a novice might make, but has no doubt about who will win the game. So it is that God does not have to know all the twists and turns history will take, or know exhaustively its eventual outcomes for His ultimate saving purposes to prevail.

Practical Benefits of Open Theism

So, one might ask: What difference does all this make? Not much, at least in essential matters such as salvation, sanctification, and godly living. Yet in more subtle ways it makes all the difference in the world, especially in our understanding of God. As A. W. Tozer observed, “A right conception of God is basic, not only to systematic theology, but to practical living as well.”9

First, an open future makes a difference in how we think about God. All forms of determinism suffer from the same defect: they tend to conceive of God as a remote Central Planner, a Cosmic CEO, whose lofty vantage-point and limitless perspective enable Him to remain above the struggles, anxieties, and messiness of life as we experience it. It is hard to imagine God being even mildly concerned, much less stressed, over any situation, no matter how critical, when He already knows the outcome.

While the classical model offers comfort to those who need a celestial ‘unmoved mover’ upon whom to lean, it does not accord with the portrait of God painted in both testaments and fleshed out in Jesus of Nazareth. The God of that portrait is a God of agape love who deeply cares about people, who ever strives with individuals as if the course of their lives and eternal destiny is far from settled, and who is fiercely committed to their temporal and eternal wellbeing. From Genesis to Revelation we see a God who gets down into the mud and muck of our sin-cursed world, who is deeply affected by the response of humans to His gracious overtures, and who gets bruised and bloodied in His desperate battle against the forces of darkness in His passionate effort to reconcile a lost “world unto himself” in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19).

Second, an open future makes a difference in how we pray. Believing the future is already exhaustively settled cuts the heart out of prayer. If the future is closed, then why pray? The oft-cited cliché, “prayer changes us, not God,” neither corresponds to our own intuition nor is reflective of the massive testimony of Scripture regarding the efficacy of petitionary prayer. Would Jesus have taught us to pray the “Our Father” prayer, which voices no fewer than six specific petitions, if prayer was powerless to change the future in significant ways?

Both testaments reveal a God who passionately desires to enter into a covenant-partnership with those whom He created in his own image (Genesis 1:26; see Psalm 25:14), one in which both are involved in creating a particular future. Prayer is the primary arena where this partnership is initiated, deepened, and worked out. This divine-human relationship can be compared to a pair of ice skaters who are responsive to each other’s slightest move, and who interact with each other in a coordinated dance of beauty and grace. Even though they may have choreographed every move and practiced their routine a thousand times, neither knows for sure how this particular performance is going to play out until it does.

Third, an open future makes a difference in our motivation to fulfill the Great Commission. If God already knows the number and identity of those who will finally be saved and lost, then why bother to evangelize aggressively? It renders unintelligible Jesus’ stern warning, “unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Luke 13:5), as well as more than 70 of His gracious invitations in the Gospels to believe, to follow, and to obey.

On the other hand, when we read with what passion the good shepherd seeks for that one lost sheep, with what urgency the woman searches the house for that one lost coin, and with what yearning the father scans the horizon for a glimpse of that wastrel of a son (Luke 15), we get the impression that the outcome of the seeking, yearning, and searching is not already settled. Likewise, when Jesus said, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me” (Revelation 3:20, nasb), there is the inference that even He does not know for sure if the door to that particular heart will open. Otherwise, why would He knock? And why should we?

Finally, an open future accords with the Wesleyan view that God’s essential nature is love. Clark Pinnock observes, “The open view of God grows out of the ideological
. . . soil of Wesleyan-Arminianism. It belongs to traditions that affirm human freedom and deny total divine control.”10 God is absolutely sovereign, yet for love’s sake has surrendered His sovereignty at the point of human freedom. God is absolutely omniscient, yet for love’s sake has bound himself into not an already fixed but the ever unfolding time-space continuum in which we live out our lives. Thus, for Him as for us, the future is not a ‘done deal’ and cannot be known exhaustively until it happens. John Sanders puts it succinctly: “The type of relationship God offers his people is not one of control and domination but rather one of powerful love and vulnerability. . . . The divine project of developing people who freely enter into a loving and trusting relationship with God lacks an unconditional guarantee of success.”11

Few have expressed this risky and scary dance of love and freedom that is the heart and soul of our covenant-partnership with God better than C. S. Lewis:

Why did God give [humans] free will? Because free will, though it makes evil possible, is also the only thing that makes possible any love or goodness or joy worth having. . . . The happiness which God designs for his higher creatures is the happiness of being freely, voluntarily united to him and to each other in an ecstasy of love and delight compared with which the most rapturous love between a man and a woman on earth is mere milk and water. And for that they must be free.12

And, we might add, “for that” the future must be open.

Dr. Cowles is professor emeritus of Bible, Theology, and Preaching at Northwest Nazarene University. He is also adjunct professor at Point Loma Nazarene University.

1. Thomas C. Oden, The Living God: Systematic Theology (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1987), I, 70.

2. Bruce Ware, God’s Lesser Glory: The Diminishing God of Open Theism (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2000), 41.

3. Oden, 74.

4. Gregory Boyd, God of the Possible: A Biblical Introduction to the Open View of God (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2000), 29.

5. Boyd, 33.

6. Oden, 73.

7. Ibid., 74.

8. Clark Pinnock, Most Moved Mover: A Theology of God’s Openness (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001), 51.

9. A. W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy, (New York: Harper & Row, 1961), 6.

10. Pinnock, 106.

11. John Sanders, The God Who Risks: A Theology of Providence (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1998), 88-89.

12. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996), 49.