Many accept historical divine choice yet resist it in salvation.
Before they obeyed, before they wandered, before they rebelled, before they repented, God set His love upon them. This is not arbitrary favoritism but sovereign choice, rooted in God’s self-determined purposes.
God’s choice feels acceptable in Israel’s story but unsettling in our own
“The LORD did not set His love on you nor choose you because you were more in number than any of the peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but because the LORD loved you and kept the oath which He swore to your forefathers”
—Deuteronomy 7:7–8, ESV
With those words, Moses stands before a nation on the edge of the Promised Land and reminds them of the mystery at the center of their existence. Israel did not rise from the ashes of Egypt by their own strength. They were not selected because of their virtue, their size, or their strategic value. They were simply chosen because God loved them—an affection without cause in them and without explanation outside Him.
This is the bedrock of Israel’s identity. Before they obeyed, before they wandered, before they rebelled, before they repented, God set His love upon them. Their story begins not with their decision for God but with God’s decision for them. The verb Moses uses here—”choose”—is bachar (בָּחַר), denoting deliberate selection from among alternatives, a conscious divine preference that establishes covenant relationship. This is not arbitrary favoritism but sovereign election rooted in God’s self-determined purposes.
Most spirit-filled Christians accept this without protest. They read it devotionally. They teach it to children. They regard it as the beginning of redemption’s story. But when that same sovereign love is applied to salvation—when God chooses not a nation but a sinner—many suddenly deem it unfair.
Why do Christians celebrate Israel’s election yet resist their own? Why is divine choice acceptable when it shapes the story of a people, but offensive when it shapes the destiny of a person? Scripture presents election as the foundation of Israel’s identity, the engine of redemptive history, and the heartbeat of God’s covenantal love. Yet when the New Testament applies the same pattern to salvation, objections rise. The inconsistency is striking and revealing. This article explores that tension—not to flatten mystery, but to recover the biblical truth that God’s sovereign choice is not an injustice but a mercy, and that His ways are not our ways.
Election Begins Before Time Itself
Israel’s story does not begin in Exodus. It begins in Genesis, long before the nation is born, long before the covenant is cut, long before the Law is given. But even Genesis is not the starting point. Paul tells Timothy that grace “was granted us in Christ Jesus before the ages began” (2 Timothy 1:9). Election does not merely precede human action or human existence. It precedes time itself. Before the first day, before the first moment, before creation spoke into being—God chose. This is not reactive selection based on foreseen faith. This is eternal, self-determined, sovereign love.
The pattern becomes visible in Genesis. The first divine preference in Scripture is stark. Two brothers bring offerings. One is regarded; the other is not. The text offers no psychological analysis, no moral comparison, no explanation—though countless sermons have attempted to rescue the text from its own restraint by inventing motives Scripture never reveals. God simply “had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering He had no regard” (Genesis 4:4–5). The narrative moves on without apology. After Abel’s death, God appoints Seth as the line through which the promise will continue. Again, no explanation. Just divine prerogative. Noah “found favor in the eyes of the LORD”—not because he was flawless (his vineyard episode proves otherwise) but because God set His grace upon him before the flood.
The pattern intensifies with the patriarchs. Abraham is not seeking God when God seeks him. He is not a lone monotheist in a pagan world; he is a pagan among pagans when the voice of heaven interrupts his life in Ur. God chooses him, not the other way around. The choice continues: Isaac over Ishmael, though Ishmael was born first. Jacob over Esau, though Esau held the birthright. Paul—shaped by rigorous Pharisaic training under Gamaliel, the foremost teacher of his generation—will later say this choice was made “though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad—in order that God’s purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of Him who calls” (Romans 9:11).
Election is not a New Testament invention. It is the architecture of the Old Testament, the load-bearing foundation upon which the entire redemptive narrative rests.
Israel’s Election Is the Backbone of Redemptive History
When Moses speaks in Deuteronomy 7, he is not introducing a new idea. He is summarizing the entire story. Israel is chosen—not because they are numerous, not because they are righteous, not because they are deserving, not because they are morally superior. They are chosen because the Hebrew word for “loved”—‘ahav (אָהַב)—expresses covenantal commitment and electing affection, not mere emotional preference. This love is the soil from which Israel’s identity grows.
God chooses Israel over Egypt. He raises up Moses, not Pharaoh. He redeems Israel, not the surrounding nations. He gives them His Law, His presence, His promises. Within Israel, the pattern continues. God chooses Levi for priesthood—not Judah, not Ephraim, not Benjamin. God chooses Judah for kingship—not Reuben the firstborn, not Joseph the favored son. God chooses David—not his older brothers, not the tall and impressive sons of Jesse, but the shepherd boy.
God chooses prophets. “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5). God chooses pagan kings. He raises up Cyrus “for the sake of My servant Jacob, and Israel My chosen” (Isaiah 45:4), calling a foreign monarch by name and anointing him for Israel’s deliverance.
The Old Testament is a tapestry of divine election, woven through every era, every covenant, every turning point in redemptive history. Christians rarely object to any of this. Many just accept it as part of the story, as the way God has always worked. They accept His sovereign freedom to choose whomever He wills for whatever purposes He ordains.
But When Election Touches Salvation, Objections Rise
The moment God’s sovereign choice moves from the narrative to the personal, from Israel’s story to ours, resistance appears. Suddenly, the doctrine that felt appropriate in Scripture’s history feels oppressive in salvation’s application. People say, “That’s not fair.” They say, “That makes God arbitrary.” They say, “That violates free will,” or “That makes us robots,” or “That turns evangelism into a charade.”
But Scripture does not soften the doctrine when it reaches salvation. It intensifies it. It moves from shadows to substance, from type to fulfillment, from national election to individual redemption—and the pattern remains the same.
Jesus speaks of divine initiative with uncompromising clarity. “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him” (John 6:44). The verb “draw”—helkysē (ἑλκύσῃ)—means to drag or pull, not merely to woo or invite. It is the same word used for dragging a net full of fish or hauling someone before a judge. This is not passive persuasion. This is effective calling. Jesus does not merely say the Father must draw; He explains why some do not believe: “You do not believe because you are not of My sheep” (John 10:26). The causation runs from divine choosing to human believing, not the reverse. Those who are His sheep hear His voice and follow. Those who are not His sheep do not believe—not because they examined the evidence and declined, but because they were never His to begin with.
Jesus later says, “You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you” (John 15:16). The Greek “chose”—exelexamēn (ἐξελεξάμην)—is the same root used in the Septuagint for God’s choice of Israel, emphasizing deliberate selection from among many.
Paul speaks of predestination without hesitation. “Those whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son” (Romans 8:29). “He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him” (Ephesians 1:4). The verb “chose”—exelexato (ἐξελέξατο)—appears again, linking the Ephesian believers to the same divine choosing that marked Israel’s history.
Paul does not soften this when facing objections. Instead, he confronts them: “He has mercy on whom He wills, and He hardens whom He wills” (Romans 9:18). The verb “hardens”—sklērynei (σκληρύνει)—describes judicial hardening, not arbitrary cruelty. The Exodus narrative shows Pharaoh hardening his own heart repeatedly (Exodus 7:13, 22; 8:15, 19, 32) before God confirms that hardening as a judicial response (Exodus 9:12; 10:20, 27). God does not harden a soft heart. He judicially hardens what persistent rebellion has already hardened. The purpose is not sadistic display but the revelation of His power and the proclamation of His name throughout the earth (Romans 9:17).
Peter speaks of election as the defining mark of believers. “To those who are elect exiles of the Dispersion” (1 Peter 1:1). “Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to confirm your calling and election” (2 Peter 1:10). Luke records the response to Paul’s preaching in Pisidian Antioch: “And when the Gentiles heard this, they began rejoicing and glorifying the word of the Lord, and as many as were appointed to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48). The Greek construction is unambiguous—tetagmenoi, a perfect passive participle. Perfect tense indicates completed action in the past with continuing results. Passive voice indicates they were appointed by someone else. The appointment precedes the believing.
The New Testament does not retreat from divine sovereignty in salvation. It reveals it more clearly than the Old Testament ever did. The same God who chose Israel chooses sinners. The same freedom that shaped redemptive history shapes regenerate hearts.
Election Is Personal, Not Merely Corporate
A common objection attempts to preserve human autonomy by claiming election is corporate rather than individual—that God chose a group (the church) but leaves individual membership to human decision. But Paul’s teaching is not merely about categories. He applies election to individuals by name: Jacob, Esau, Pharaoh. And the apostles apply it personally to believers. Paul writes to the Thessalonians, “We know, brothers loved by God, that He has chosen you” (1 Thessalonians 1:4). He tells them again, “God has chosen you from the beginning for salvation” (2 Thessalonians 2:13). The pronoun is direct. The choice is specific. These are not abstract corporate categories. These are individuals, known by name, chosen by God.
Ephesians 1:4 says “He chose us in Him”—plural believers, but composed of individual persons. When Paul says “us,” he means the Ephesian Christians reading his letter. When he says “you” to the Thessalonians, he means those specific believers in that specific church. Corporate election does not erase individual election. It is composed of it.
The Unbreakable Chain
Paul traces an unbreakable sequence in Romans 8:29–30: “Those whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son. And those whom He predestined He also called, and those whom He called He also justified, and those whom He justified He also glorified.” Every verb is past tense—even glorification, which for believers is still future. Why? Because God’s purposes are so certain that He speaks of them as accomplished. And note: no one drops out between the links. Everyone foreknown is predestined. Everyone predestined is called. Everyone called is justified. Everyone justified is glorified. This is not a chain with weak links. This is divine certainty from eternity past to eternity future.
The chain does not begin with human decision and end with divine response. It begins with God. It begins with God’s foreknowledge—not His passive awareness of future events, but His active, electing love set upon specific persons before time began. It culminates in glorification, guaranteed for every person God foreknew. Election secures perseverance. Those whom God chooses, God keeps.
The Real Issue Is Not Fairness but Proximity
Christians accept divine election when it is distant. They accept God choosing Israel. They accept God choosing David. They accept God choosing prophets and apostles. They accept God choosing nations and times and seasons and roles.
But when God chooses a sinner—when He chooses them, or fails to choose their friend, or chooses their neighbor but not their child—objections surface. Why? Because now the doctrine touches them. Now it touches their assumptions about fairness, their belief that grace should be distributed like wages or extended first to the people they would choose if they were God.
The problem is not the doctrine. The problem is the distance. Election feels like beauty when it is someone else’s story. It feels like offense when it becomes ours.
Scripture Confronts Our Assumptions About Fairness
The Bible does not hide from this tension. It addresses it head-on, and not with careful qualifications but with reminders of creaturely limits.
Job learns that God is not accountable to human scrutiny. After chapters of demanding answers, Job hears the voice from the whirlwind: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding” (Job 38:4). The interrogation continues for four chapters, pressing Job to acknowledge the vast gulf between Creator and creature. God’s final question cuts to the heart: “Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? He who argues with God, let him answer it” (Job 40:2). Job responds with silence and repentance. He does not receive an explanation. He receives a revelation of God’s greatness.
Isaiah announces that God’s wisdom is beyond human comprehension. “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8–9). This is not evasion. This is truth. The same God who governs the rain and the snow, who sends forth His word and accomplishes His purpose, operates according to wisdom that transcends human categories of fairness.
Paul anticipates the fairness objection in Romans 9 and answers it not with philosophical nuance but with a reminder of creaturely limits. “But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’ Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?” (Romans 9:20–21). Paul is not belittling human dignity. He is restoring divine majesty. The potter is not accountable to the clay. The mercy of God is not subject to human entitlement. And the salvation of sinners is not a negotiation but a miracle.
Election Is Not Injustice—It Is Mercy
The default human assumption is that God owes everyone an equal chance. Scripture never teaches this. The default state of humanity is not neutral expectation but guilty rebellion. Paul writes, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). He writes, “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23). He writes, “You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked” (Ephesians 2:1–2).
If God gave humanity what is owed, no one would be saved. Election is not God withholding what is owed. It is God giving what is undeserved. Mercy is never owed. Grace is never earned. Salvation is never a wage. Election is not favoritism; it is compassion extended to those who deserve only condemnation.
The objection “Why does He still find fault? For who can resist His will?” assumes that human beings have some claim upon God’s grace. But Paul’s answer destroys that assumption: “So then it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy” (Romans 9:16). Salvation does not hinge on the sinner’s decision, the sinner’s effort, or the sinner’s worthiness. It hinges entirely on God’s mercy—a mercy He is free to bestow or withhold as He wills.
This is not arbitrary cruelty. This is sovereign grace. The wonder is not that God does not save all. The wonder is that God saves any.
The Lived Christian Life Already Assumes Election
Even Christians who resist election doctrinally often pray as though it were true. They pray, “God, open his eyes.” They pray, “God, soften her heart.” They pray, “God, draw him to Yourself.” They pray, “God, save my son.”
These prayers assume God can act on the human will. They assume God can intervene in the heart. They assume God can change desires, overcome resistance, give faith where there was unbelief. Who prays, “God, respect his free will?” Who would pray, “God, wait until he makes the first move?” Christians instinctively pray as though salvation depends on God’s sovereign action, even when their stated theology resists that conclusion.
Testimonies reveal the same pattern. Believers say, “I was blind, but now I see.” They say, “God opened my heart.” They say, “I never would have come to Christ if He hadn’t pursued me.” These are not the testimonies of people who believe they chose God independently. These are the testimonies of people who know God chose them.
The lived experience of many Christians is saturated with divine initiative. The disconnect between experience and doctrine reveals not a flaw in election but a failure to align theology with what Scripture teaches and believers already know.
Election Magnifies Grace, Not Diminishes It
If salvation ultimately depends on human will, then grace is partial. It assists, but it does not save. It opens a door, but the sinner must walk through. It makes salvation possible, but the sinner makes it actual. In this framework, the final determining factor is not God’s mercy but human choice. The glory is shared.
But if salvation ultimately depends on God’s will, then grace is total. It does not merely assist; it accomplishes. It does not make salvation possible; it makes it certain. The final determining factor is not human decision but divine mercy. The glory belongs entirely to God.
Election is never abstract selection from a list. It is always “in Christ.” Paul writes, “He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world” (Ephesians 1:4). The elect are not chosen in isolation but chosen to be united to the Beloved, the Chosen One. Christ Himself is the Elect of God (Isaiah 42:1; Luke 23:35), and believers are chosen in Him. This is not mechanical determinism. This is union with the Son.
Election does not diminish human responsibility. Scripture never presents divine sovereignty and human accountability as contradictory. Pharaoh is responsible for hardening his heart even though God hardened it. Judas is guilty of betraying Christ even though the betrayal was ordained. Jesus Himself said, “Did I not choose you, the twelve, and yet one of you is a devil?” (John 6:70). Peter later explained that Scripture “had to be fulfilled” regarding Judas (Acts 1:16). The men who crucified Jesus “did what Your hand and Your plan had predestined to take place” (Acts 4:28), yet Peter charges them with guilt: “This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men” (Acts 2:23). Both truths stand. Divine determination and human responsibility coexist throughout Scripture without contradiction.
Election does not erase human choice. It explains why sinners choose God at all. Left to themselves, dead in sin and hostile to God, they would never choose Him. But God raises the dead. He gives new hearts. He grants repentance and faith. And those He calls come willingly, not as coerced robots but as redeemed creatures who have been set free to love the God they once hated. Jesus speaks of this in one breath: “You are unwilling to come to Me” (John 5:40), and then moments later, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him” (John 6:44). Human unwillingness and divine necessity both operate in the same context, taught by the same Lord.
Election does not make evangelism unnecessary. It makes it effective. The same God who ordains the end ordains the means. He saves sinners through the preaching of the gospel. Paul writes, “How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” (Romans 10:14). Election does not bypass the means of grace. It guarantees that the means will accomplish their purpose.
Election does not make God unjust. It reveals Him as the God who saves. Without election, there would be no salvation, because no sinner would ever turn to God. Divine choosing is not the problem. It is the solution.
The God Who Chose Israel Still Chooses Today
The same God who set His love on Israel sets His love on sinners. The same God who called Abraham out of Ur calls the spiritually dead out of darkness. The same God who chose Isaac over Ishmael chooses whom He will. The same God who loved Jacob and hated Esau—a covenantal statement of preference, not personal malice—still loves and chooses according to His sovereign purpose. The same God who raised up Cyrus for His glory raises up faith in rebel hearts. The same God who hardened Pharaoh’s heart to display His power softens hearts of stone to magnify His mercy.
Election is not a relic of Israel’s story. It is the heartbeat of redemption. It pulses through Genesis and Exodus, through the prophets and the psalms, through the Gospels and the epistles. It is the thread that ties Abel to Noah, Abraham to Moses, David to Christ, and the apostles to every believer who has ever been called out of darkness into light.
The God who chooses is the God who saves. And He does not choose because we are worthy. He chooses because He loves. That love has no cause in us and no explanation outside Him. It is the same love that chose Israel when they were few and weak. It is the same love that chose sinners when they were dead and hostile. And it is the love that will complete what it begins, bringing every chosen one safely home.
“The LORD did not set His love on you because you were more in number than any of the peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but because the LORD loved you.” Israel’s story begins with unearned affection, and so does ours. The God who chose a nation still chooses. The God who loved Israel without cause still loves sinners without merit. And the sovereign freedom that formed the people of God is the same freedom that forms the children of God today. The scandal of election is not that God does not choose all, but that He chooses any. And the answer, from Moses to Job to Isaiah to Paul, is always the same: because He loves, and His ways are not our ways.
Editor’s Note: We recognize that election is not an easy doctrine to see clearly—especially when someone we love shows no evidence of being among the elect. The weight of that reality presses hard on believing parents, spouses, children, and friends. Yet Scripture never releases us from the call to pray. We continue to ask God to open blind eyes, unstop deaf ears, and soften hearts hardened by sin. We plead for mercy because we serve the God who raises the dead. Election does not diminish prayer; it drives us to our knees in dependence on the only One who can save.
This article may appear to be yet another treatment of divine election, but its deeper purpose is to examine God Himself—His character, His sovereignty, and the unbroken arc of His self-determined purposes across the whole sweep of redemptive history. Election is not primarily a doctrine about us. It is a revelation of who God is: the One who loves without cause, chooses without constraint, and saves without obligation. To understand election rightly is to see God more clearly. And that is always the goal.