First off Richard, apologies for asking all these questions but I find your perspectives on UR very interesting and compelling.
As you can no doubt tell by my questions, I’m enthralled to discern the mindset of those who are unable to embrace UR; I mean it sounds like such stunning good news! First, (my last question) wondering about the mindset of those who have no trouble equating love with ECT…

Now, I’m wondering if you have any opinions or insights into this matter of folks believing that they have full control of their destiny; their eternal fate.

While Great lip service is paid, in our Christian culture, to salvation being a gift of grace and not a matter of our own works, my sense is that somewhere deep within our fallen human psyches, we don’t really believe it – our lingering preference being driven by the very same desire for independence, autonomy, and self directed existence that motivated Eve’s actions; it also pulls hard inside us.

Claiming that we choose our ultimate fate puts us right back in the center and in full control; control of our very existence. Unable to face the reality that God is in control of our existence, we manufacture the conviction that it is we who are in charge of these things. We’re too savvy to explicitly say we’re in control of our salvation but have no problem claiming control of what is simply the other side of the coin; control of our non-existence. And this is, I’m suggesting, reflective of our own inner angst at having less control of our existence that we would like.

We wouldn’t dream of claiming directly to cause (or sustain) our own existence, yet many Christians seem perfectly comfortable doing something that is in essence little different; causing our own eternal fate…
I see this dynamic as fitting with what you’ve recently written on your blog in the installment #23 that Melchizedek recently mentioned. That the belief in this level of control is in essence self worship and self idolatry.

What do you see as the motivation for the very common belief that we control our own eternal destiny?

Thanks,
Bobx3

It’s a great question, and one that I’m interested in seeing his answer to as well. This idea is very prevalent in popular media also.
Not to have free will is seen as the ultimate in tyranny, even going so far as to equate the lack of it as not being human, or something less than human (battlestar galactica, anyone?)

I’ve often heard it reasoned that people reason free will to feel better about hell and the people going there, but it makes sense that they also do it because it makes them feel better about themselves and more in control. It does seem very pride producing. How wouldn’t it be? And if you feel content with the people going there, that should be a huge red flag, anyway. I’ll often hear people say, I’d never choose that! They seem to feel superior. It leads to blaming, I think, rather than empathy and compassion. People often aren’t clear thinkers, however, so even if they do believe in free will they may also claim to believe something else completely contradictory, like God is sovereign. I think they believe these things in the end because they are confused and don’t know any other superior way to think, like UR.

No worries about the questions. I enjoy them.

A lot of scholars think the rise of notions regarding self-determination and self-authorship really took off during the Enlightenment, with Descartes in particular. I’ve found Charles Taylor’s discussion of the buffered versus the porous self to be helpful in describing this. In pre-modern societies the boundary between the self and the world was fuzzy and porous. For example, the self could be invaded by spirits or demons. More, the self could be affected by supernatural forces (e.g., curses, witchcraft). Consequently, a porous self didn’t feel very much in control. Fatalism ruled the day. For example, the word “happiness” shares its root with words like haphazard and happenstance. Being happy, historically speaking, was a matter of fate and luck, not self-determination.

But during the Enlightenment the porous self gave way to the buffered self, a self both distinct and protected from the world. As a result, modernity is characterized by individualism and the autonomous ego. As a part of this the ego is given almost god-like powers regarding self-determination.

Consequently, if you call this vision into question you are attacking the foundation of the modern mythos and ethos. To suggest that we aren’t, in fact, as powerful as we think we are threatens the narcissism that sits at the heart of our modern self-image.