Unblinded to Choose?

An Exegetical Examination of Prevenient Grace

The Question of ‘Neutral’ Grace

“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.”

— John 6:44 (ESV).

The words of Christ leave no room for interpretive maneuvering. Either the Father’s drawing is effectual, or Jesus spoke carelessly. Either divine initiative secures what it intends, or the sovereignty of God is reduced to a cosmic suggestion box.

Yet Arminian theology proposes a middle way: prevenient grace—a universal, enabling gift that restores the sinner’s ability to choose God without actually securing that choice. It is grace that knocks but does not enter, grace that illuminates but does not regenerate, grace that offers resurrection to the dead without raising them. The question before us is not whether this doctrine sounds merciful or fair, but whether it is biblical.

What Is Prevenient Grace?

Prevenient grace, in classical Arminian theology, is understood as a work of the Holy Spirit extended to all humanity, counteracting the noetic (how sin clouds our minds and distorts truth) and volitional (how sin enslaves our wills and bends our choices away from God) effects of the Fall. It does not regenerate the sinner, but allegedly restores sufficient moral ability to respond to the gospel in faith. John Wesley called it “the first wish to please God, the first dawn of light concerning His will, and the first slight transient conviction of having sinned against Him.”

This grace is said to precede conversion, hence “prevenient” (from Latin praevenire, “to come before”). It is distinguished from saving grace proper, which only comes after the sinner cooperates with this enabling work. Arminians argue that without prevenient grace, the Calvinist position would make God the author of unbelief and render human responsibility meaningless.

To be clear: this is not a strawman. It is a sincerely held position by many who love Christ and honor Scripture. But sincerity does not sanctify error. And if prevenient grace cannot be demonstrated from Scripture—if it must be inferred to rescue a philosophical commitment to libertarian free will—then it must be rejected, no matter how reasonable it may seem.

Section I: The Scriptural Case Against Prevenient Grace

Total Inability Is Not Partial

The biblical diagnosis of human depravity is unambiguous and comprehensive. Paul writes, “There is none righteous, not even one; there is none who understands, there is none who seeks for God” (Romans 3:10–11). Not few, but none. Not impaired, but incapable. The natural man ‘does not accept the things of the Spirit of God…’ (1 Corinthians 2:14). In other words, apart from God’s Spirit, people don’t just struggle to understand spiritual truth—they are unable to embrace it.

Notice: cannot. This is not a description of difficulty, but of ontological inability. The Arminian responds that prevenient grace removes this inability universally. But where does Scripture teach this? Where is the text that says, “All are made able to believe”? It does not exist. Instead, we find the opposite: “You were dead in your trespasses and sins” (Ephesians 2:1). Dead men do not need assistance—they need resurrection.

Effectual Calling, Not Universal Enabling

Jesus said, “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:27). The calling here is not merely an offer; it is a summons that secures its own response—less like an invitation you can RSVP to, and more like a king’s command that creates the obedience it requires. The sheep hear because they are His sheep, not the reverse. This is the pattern throughout Scripture: “Those whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified” (Romans 8:30). Every link in the chain holds. None are lost between calling and justification.

If prevenient grace is universal, why do not all believe? The Arminian answers: because some resist. But this makes the decisive factor human will, not divine grace. It shifts the ultimate cause of salvation from God’s sovereign choice to man’s autonomous response. It makes grace a possibility rather than a power.

Regeneration Precedes Faith

Ezekiel 36:26–27 reveals the order: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes.” God does not merely enable obedience—He causes it. The new heart precedes the new walk.

John affirms the same sequence: “Whoever believes that Jesus is the Christ is born of God” (1 John 5:1). In Greek, the perfect passive participle gegennēmenos (“having been born”) indicates prior action. One believes because one has been born of God, not in order to be born. Faith is the fruit of regeneration, not its cause.

Prevenient grace inverts this order. It places faith before new birth, making regeneration a reward for human decision. But Scripture knows no such arrangement. The wind of the Spirit blows where it wishes, and the result is rebirth—not an opportunity for rebirth, but rebirth itself (John 3:8).

Election and Appointment to Faith

“As many as had been appointed to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48). Luke does not say, “As many as believed were appointed.” The appointment precedes and secures belief. This is not incidental grammar—it is theological assertion.

Paul writes to the Philippians, “To you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Philippians 1:29). Faith is granted—given, bestowed—not merely made possible. If prevenient grace is universal, why is faith described as a gift granted to some and not others?

Section II: The Problem of Judicial Hardening

The doctrine of prevenient grace cannot account for the biblical theme of divine hardening. If God universally removes the inability to believe, why does He also actively harden hearts?

Isaiah was sent to preach, but told: “Render the hearts of this people insensitive, their ears dull, and their eyes dim, otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and return and be healed” (Isaiah 6:10). Jesus quotes this passage to explain why He spoke in parables—to conceal truth from some while revealing it to others (Matthew 13:10–15). This is not passive permission; it is active concealment.

John reiterates: “He has blinded their eyes and He hardened their hearts, so that they would not see with their eyes and perceive with their hearts, and be converted and I heal them” (John 12:40). The agent is not Satan, not sin—it is God. He blinds. He hardens. The purpose clause is explicit: so that they would not believe.

Paul’s treatment in Romans 9 is even more direct: “He has mercy on whom He desires, and He hardens whom He desires” (Romans 9:18). This is sovereign, discriminate action. If prevenient grace had already universally restored the ability to believe, these texts would make God a contradictory agent—restoring and removing sight at the same time.

The Arminian may respond that hardening is a response to prior unbelief. But Romans 9 dismantles that escape: “Though the twins were not yet born and had not done anything good or bad, so that God’s purpose according to His choice would stand, not because of works but because of Him who calls, it was said to her, ‘The older will serve the younger’” (Romans 9:11–12). The choice precedes the conduct. The hardening is not reactionary—it is purposeful.

Section III: Theological Implications

Prevenient Grace Undermines the Seriousness of Sin

If all people, by virtue of a universal work of grace, are restored to a neutral starting point from which they can choose God, then the Fall has been functionally reversed. The Arminian may protest that total depravity remains, but if depravity does not prevent faith, then it is not total. It becomes a disposition rather than a bondage, a tendency rather than a condition.

But Scripture describes sin as slavery (John 8:34), blindness (2 Corinthians 4:4), and death (Ephesians 2:1). Slaves do not free themselves. The blind do not heal their own sight. The dead do not resuscitate. Prevenient grace suggests they can, if only they will.

It Misrepresents the Nature of Grace

Grace, in Scripture, is not an equalizer—it is a deliverer. It does not make all men saveable; it saves. “By grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). The entire complex—grace, salvation, faith—is “not of yourselves.” To place the decisive act in the sinner’s will is to make grace a platform rather than a power.

When Paul recounts his conversion, he does not credit a prior enabling: “When God, who had set me apart even from my mother’s womb and called me through His grace, was pleased to reveal His Son in me…” (Galatians 1:15–16). God was pleased. God revealed. Paul did not cooperate with a prevenient nudge—he was arrested by a sovereign unveiling.

It Confuses Regeneration with Moral Persuasion

Prevenient grace makes the gospel an argument to be weighed rather than a power to be unleashed. It assumes that if the sinner’s rational faculties are restored, he will see the truth and choose rightly. But this is not the biblical pattern.

Paul does not say, “I presented the facts clearly and left the choice to them.” He says, “My message and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God” (1 Corinthians 2:4–5). The Spirit does not merely assist human decision—He demonstrates divine power that creates faith.

Lydia’s conversion illustrates this perfectly: “The Lord opened her heart to respond to the things spoken by Paul” (Acts 16:14). The opening was God’s act. The response followed. No prevenient grace is mentioned—only effectual grace.

It Offers False Assurance and Weakens Gospel Urgency

If everyone has been granted the ability to believe, then evangelism becomes a matter of presentation and persuasion. The pressure shifts to the preacher’s skill rather than the Spirit’s sovereignty. Worse, it can produce false assurance: “I made a decision, therefore I am saved.”

But Scripture ties assurance not to a past decision, but to present fruit and divine testimony: “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God” (Romans 8:16). Those who are justified are being sanctified (1 Corinthians 6:11). If there is no transformation, there was no regeneration—no matter what decision was made.

Conversely, urgency is heightened, not diminished, by God’s sovereignty. We do not know who the elect are, so we preach to all. We do not trust in human ability, so we preach in dependence on the Spirit. We do not offer a choice—we announce a command: “Repent and believe” (Mark 1:15). And we trust that the same God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” is the One “who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6).

Grace That Raises the Dead

The tension with which we began resolves not in a doctrine of universal enabling, but in the doctrine of particular, effectual grace. The Father draws—and those He draws come (John 6:37). The Spirit breathes—and the dead are born again (John 3:8). The Son calls—and Lazarus walks out of the tomb (John 11:43–44).

Prevenient grace is, ultimately, an attempt to protect God’s reputation by limiting His power. It fears that if grace is irresistible, God is tyrannical. But the opposite is true: if grace is resistible, it is not grace—it is merely opportunity. And opportunity does not raise the dead.

The gospel is not that God has made us able to be saved. It is that He has saved us. “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5). Not “made saveable”—saved. Not “enabled to respond”—washed, renewed, regenerated.

We are born “not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:13). The will that saves is not ours, assisted by grace. It is His, accomplishing grace.

This is not fatalism. It is worship. It is the only ground for true assurance, the only fuel for genuine humility, and the only hope for sinners who have no hope in themselves. Prevenient grace says, ‘You can if you will.’ Sovereign grace says, ‘You will because He has willed.’ That shift—from human possibility to divine certainty—is the difference between shaky hope and solid assurance. And that makes all the difference—not just theologically, but pastorally, evangelistically, and doxologically.

Let us, then, preach a grace that does not merely knock, but enters. A grace that does not merely invite, but compels. A grace that does not restore ability, but creates life. For such grace is not a doctrine to defend—it is a God to adore.

“So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy.” ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

— Romans 9:16 (ESV)