You likely know about this notion, also called the "perseverance of the saints." Related notions here concern election, predestination, the efficacy of grace and the irresistibility of grace. The basic idea is that those elected by God, who are regenerated and saved by grace, cannot ever "fall" from grace.
Opposed to this Reformed view--see: the Catholics, Orthodox, Methodists, Anglicans, and those from Arminian traditions--is the belief that, while a fall from grace involves a great deal of willful rebellion, it is possible to fall away.
Again, I'm not sure why the men out at the prison debate this issue so much, but it's a constant conversation that I'm always asked to weigh in on.
As a prison chaplain, I'm not supposed to take sides in these denominational debates. Our class is ecumenical, a hospitable space for everyone. Even non-Christians are welcome. But my deeper concerns are pastoral, as I want the men in the prison to handle their doctrinal disagreements with grace and humility. Sadly, those virtues are often lacking. Lots of heat, very little light.
Most of the men in the study fall in the "you can fall from grace" side of this debate. So the other night, when this issue was raised again in the study, I tried to get them to appreciate the Reformed perspective on this issue.
Here's what I said.
Personally, I grew up in a tradition that believed that you could fall from grace. And yet, I do appreciate two values that the "once saved, always saved" view is trying to place before our hearts and minds.
First, from the earliest origins of this debate, the conflict between Augustine and Pelagius, there has been a desire to protect grace. The goal was to make grace wholly unilateral, the act of God alone. To do this, even the act of the human will had to be removed from the equation. Luther, in his debate with Erasmus, called this "the bondage of the will." Our depravity is so deep our will is compromised. We can't even choose God or, at the very least, make that choice unaffected by sin. Our choices, therefore, must also be a gracious act of God.
I want to affirm the desire here, to make grace wholly the work of God. I'm even sympathetic to the notion that God rehabilitates our will. I want to stand in a place where I can say, "All is grace."
The other value I want to affirm about "once saved, always saved" has to do with security. Raised, as I was, in a tradition that believed you could fall from grace, I grew up with a lot of anxiety and fear. Frankly, I just never knew where I stood with God. We sin all the time, and I had no clear idea when I had sinned "too much." So every sin was followed by frantic efforts to repent and prayers to God for forgiveness. I, and many others, quite literally feared being hit by a bus directly after a sin. The worry was that we might have "fallen from grace" and were tragically deprived of the time to repent and get back on the saved side of the line again. That's how anxious and fragile our salvation was experienced. The fear of "falling" was ever-present.
Consequently, I am deeply sympathetic to any attempt to make salvation seem stable and secure. Salvation-based anxiety is a curse, and theology can do a lot to help here. Now, does that mean we have to declare that salvation is "permanent" and impossible to lose? Well, the debate swirls here. But at the very least, we can agree with the pastoral impulse behind the doctrine of "once saved, always saved."
The point I made to the men out at the prison was that, if we can see the values motivating "once saved, always saved," we can come alongside those values in either agreement or real sympathy. We all want to say, "All is grace." And we all want to address real fears related to salvation, fears that have caused enormous damage and trauma in many people's lives.
