Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life.
Looking down through the ages, God beheld a dying soul. Sin had brought separation; never more could man be whole.
This was a song sung many, many times in my childhood. But what if God really did look down through the ages and see dying souls?
We see in Ephesians that He chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world. We also see that not only did He choose us before the foundation of the world—He also died for the whole world.
John 3:17–18
“For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.
He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already,
because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.”
Ephesians 1:3–10
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ
with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world…”
Such a conflict stands at the forefront of theology.
How can we be chosen, and yet still be accountable for our decision?
What kind of decision is this—that we are saved by His power and might, rescued by His will—yet it is still on us to believe or not believe, lest we face condemnation?
And right about now, if you’re like many, your mind might be drifting toward theological camps and debates. You might be thinking of tulips and theologians whose names start with the letter A.
But let’s not walk that well-worn trail today.
I don’t want to discuss this in the language of Arminius or Calvin. Honestly, both perspectives, when taken to their extremes, can lean toward arrogance—no matter how depraved or dependent they claim to be.
Instead, let’s step back and reflect on what it means to be chosen.
Chosen for what?
I know, I know: “Only God knows,” and “He does as He pleases because He is sovereign.”
And yes, that’s true. But if the conversation ends there, we’ve reached a dead end—and that’s no fun.
In fact, if being chosen is the whole story, it leaves much on the table.
It diminishes the reason for preaching the gospel, teaching the nations, and making disciples.
If you’re either “in the club” or not, then why do anything?
That’s where the arrogance creeps in.
Now, I understand there are many nuances, gradients, and hues within these beliefs.
But the core idea becomes self-focused and detached when taken to its extreme.
And still—Scripture clearly states: We are chosen in Him before the foundation of the world.
So the truth of Scripture stands.
Now let’s consider the other side: You chose Him when you heard the gospel.
That is also true.
Some theologians call this a “tension.” But I don’t like that word. I don’t believe this is a tension at all.
Let me offer you instead a lens—a story—that might bring peace to these seemingly opposite truths.
A Story: Bob and Ed in the Field
Bob stood in the field one day, staring out over the pasture.
“What a lovely day,” he thought. “The Shepherd sure knows how to pick the fields.”
“Bob! Bob!” Ed jogged up beside him, out of breath. “I’ve got a question. I heard the other sheep talking, and I can’t figure this out… Did you choose the Shepherd, or did He choose you?”
“Well,” Bob replied calmly, “I heard the other sheep talking about the Shepherd, and I knew He was mine.”
“But how did you know, Bob?”
“I heard His voice. I believed Him when He said He’d lead me to green pastures—and then He did just that.”
“But what if you didn’t go with the Shepherd?”
“Well, then I’d be lost in the woods, still hungry.”
“So, you could go back into the woods and starve?”
“Well, yes, Ed. But why would I do that?”
“Well, I heard that one of the sheep did go back into the woods.”
Bob raised an eyebrow and fluffed his wool. “I guess he doesn’t know the Shepherd.”
“Oh no,” said Ed. “The Shepherd went looking for him.”
“Well then, he must belong to the Shepherd—and he’ll be back.”
“But how do you know, Bob?”
“Well, Ed… this whole conversation seems strange. We should be on the lookout for wolves. We should listen to the Shepherd.”
“There’s no reason for me to go die in the woods or be eaten. But if I did, I suppose I’d go to meet the Shepherd and sit at His table.”
“But how do you know?”
“Because He is my Shepherd, Ed.”
“Is He your Shepherd?”
“Well of course, Bob—I was chosen before the foundation of the earth.”
“That’s good, Ed. But do you believe Him? When He said, ‘Follow me and I’ll lead you to green pastures,’ do you follow Him?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s your evidence that He chose you.”
“But if He chose me… how did I choose Him?”
“Because He’s your Shepherd. Why would you choose another? Can you name a better Shepherd than Jesus?”
“Well… no.”
“Then where else would you go? Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No.”
“Then why does it matter—His calling or your choosing—except to prove yourself to the other sheep?”
“Ed, are you worried that if you got lost, the Shepherd wouldn’t come looking for you?”
“Well Bob… it has crossed my mind.”
“Well Ed, that’s also evidence that He is your Shepherd. One who is not His doesn’t concern himself with such things.”
In our story, both exist.
In Scripture, both exist.
It’s not a tension.
It’s a peace.
There’s no wrestling needed.
The answer is: Yes.
You were chosen—because He called your name.
And you are His—because you believed Him when He did.
Do some reject the call?
Perhaps the better question is: Do they hear it?
So let us live in such a way that His voice is heard—through our love, our gospel, and our lives.
Did this help you in any way? If this was helpful or if you have questions feel free to comment below. Thank you for reading.
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