Week 1: Zobmondo: Do Our Choices Matter?
The Urgent Question
One of the hardest tasks for any pastor is officiating a funeral for a child. I’ve only had to do that once—the sudden death of a 10 year old boy. It was devastating, heartbreaking. As the sanctuary filled with mourners, the heaviness, the weight of pain and grief, was palpable.
My co-pastor then said a simple phrase from the pulpit: “There is something wrong with a world where this could happen.”
There was an audible sigh, as if we had all been holding our collective breath. The pain was still there, but there was relief that he hadn’t offered the usual pat words. There was something powerful in just saying out loud: This. Is. Not. Right.
We all have stories of suffering. Stories of disease or disability, of loss, of death. Global suffering from war and natural disasters. In times of inexplicable suffering questions rush in at us, all at once. Questions that once might have been theoretical puzzles now become urgent, driving forces. Questions about why this is happening and what it tells us about God, and our faith in God’s goodness and mercy.
I have spent the last decade pondering this question, studying and writing on theodicy—the question of where is God when we suffer? If God is all-good and all-powerful, why is there evil? Injustice? Suffering?
Open theism is one of several philosophies that attempt to address this. It’s an imperfect answer—but an intriguing one that I find appealing. That’s what we’ll unpack over the next few weeks, one step at a time. We begin today by looking at free will and the nature of the future.
Zobmondo: Do our Choices Matter?
There was a game called Zobmondo that was popular a few years back. The game involved asking a series of “would you rather” questions. For example, would you rather be a giant hamster or a tiny rhino? Would you rather drink a bowl full of gravy or have a large spider caught in your hair? Would you rather be able to see one year into the future or change any one decision from your past?
Zobmondo is fun precisely because it is meaningless. I don’t have the power to turn you into a giant hamster or force you to eat bowl of gravy, so you choices don’t matter—you can just have fun with it.
But when it comes to the bigger issues of life, our would you rather questions about our real-life relationships, our health, our work are far more significant. Do our choices matter?
The paradox
To expore this question, we turn to the book of Exodus, which begins with the Hebrew people living as slaves in Egypt. The story of Moses, born a Hebrew but raised in Pharoah’s palace. Through a twist of events, he ends up fleeing Egypt and settling in Midian. But God interrupts his comfortable life there, sending Moses and his brother Aaron back to Egypt to speak truth to power. The story continues in Ex. 5:1-2:
Afterward Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and said, “This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘Let my people go...’”
Pharaoh said, “Who is the LORD, that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD and I will not let Israel go.”
Moses follows God’s plan to seek justice for the Israelites. But Pharaoh has another plan. And so God intervenes with one plague—one sign of God’s power—after another. And yet to no avail, as we read in Ex. 7:22-23:
But… Pharaoh’s heart became hard; he would not listen... Instead, he turned and went into his palace, and did not take even this to heart.
This phrase “Pharoah hardened his heart” is repeated again and again—in Ex. 8:32, Ex. 9:35. It becomes a drumbeat refrain: “Pharaoh’s heart was hard and he would not let the Israelites go.”
But here we observe an odd and interesting pattern. Patterns and repetition in Scripture usually alert us something important. The repeated phrase “Pharoah hardened his heart" is alternated time after time with another repeated phrase:
The Lord said to Moses, “When you return to Egypt, see that you perform before Pharaoh all the wonders I have given you the power to do. But I will harden his heart so that he will not let the people go.” - Ex. 4:21
That same phrase– “the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart and he would not listen”– is repeated in Exodus chapters 7, 9 and 10. Which raises all sorts of questions: Is God responsible for Pharoah’s hardened heart? For his evil choices? Or conversely, can our choices disrupt God’s sovereign plan?
This tension laid side-by-side reflects a broader paradox found elsewhere in Scripture. Throughout the Bible, there are two parallel recurrent themes:
#1. The theme of future determinism
The first theme is called “the motif of future determinism,” or stories of God's sovereignty. Passages that show God foreknowing or predestining future events. Perhaps the most famous is Rom. 8:28-30:
We know all things work together for good for those who love God, who’re called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined
This is a verse people love to recite when you’re facing suffering or a difficult decision. Some will experience that as comforting, others as irritating or confusing. Because as much as it can be comforting to imagine God in control when the world seems chaotic and bewildering, it also raises disturbing questions about human freedom. Passages like these from Exodus where God is hardening Pharoah’s heart
emphasize God’s sovereignty–but they also seem to make God responsible for evil. (We’ll return to Rom. 8 in a bit).
#2. The theme of future possibilities
And yet, as prominent as the theme of future determinism is in Scripture, there’s an equally prominent theme– the theme of human freedom, called “the motif of future possibilities.”
In Scripture, God frequently speaks in conditional “if-then” terms— where the Lord promises (or threatens) an individual or nation: “if you do this... then I will do...”
We see this in Jer. 18 when God says they might declare judgment on the nation, but if they turn from evil, God says then “I will change my mind.” A similar pattern is found in the book of Jonah, where God plans to destroy the wicked nation, but when they repent, we read in Jonah 3:10:
When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them, and he did not do it.*
The future here seems to be conditional, depending on human choices.
Suggested Explanations:
So what can we do with these two apparently contradictory motifs? There are four primary ways Christians have looked at this:
#1. Classical determinism:
The Classical argument is that the future is settled or predestined, and cannot be altered. This view holds that when we see the first motif in Scripture—future determinism—or God’s sovereign control over the future, the Bible is speaking of God as they truly are. But the second motif of future possibilities is a figure of speech, an anthropomorphism– attributing human attributes to God.
Theologically, this view has its advantages. It affirms God’s sovereignty, God’s rightful rule over the universe. And again, that control can be comforting in a world that seems chaotic and unpredictable.
But it can also seem to make God the author of evil, and reduce humans to mere puppets. This view conflates God’s sovereignty and power with God’s control– suggesting God is not sovereign, is not Lord, if not in absolute control. Which means that whatever we see or experience in the world—including tremendous evil, injustice, and suffering– must somehow be connected to God—at the very least to their permissive will.
But that just doesn’t fit with our observations of the world, a world that objectively contains evil and injustice and suffering. And that’s a problem. In its extreme form this view can train us to be too comfortable with cognitive dissonance– when our beliefs are in conflict with our experiences of the world– which undermines our moral compass. When you’re talking with a parent or a family that has suffered horrific evil, those explanations are inadequate. We need a theology big enough to take suffering seriously.
#2. Orthodox: transcendent mystery
Another response to this paradox is one most associated with Eastern or Orthodox Christianity. This view doesn’t attempt to resolve the paradox, but simply holds the two in tension as a mystery.
Theologically, this view also has some advantages. There is something lovely in the humility of this view, which calls us to remember our finiteness. It affirms the greatness, the transcendence of God— so immense that we cannot be expected to fully comprehend it. There’s an admirable reticence to speculate beyond what we know.
But I believe this position also has some disadvantages. It implies that God is aloof and unmoved by our pain. Essentially this view suggests that God cannot be known—which I believe distances us from God. And yet, if we believe that Scripture is “God-breathed,” if we believe Jesus is God incarnate, both seem like radical attempts to reveal Godself, indications that God desires to be known.
#3. Arminian: Free will
A familiar explanation is Arminianism, which suggests that evil exists due to human free will. This view is the closest to Open Theism. But where we would differ: Arminianism wants to retain some of the stress on sovereignty and control we find in the first, Classical view. Arminians would say humans like Pharoah have free will—they can choose. But they would insist on foreknowledge—that God knew from all time what that choice would be.
But that creates a logical problem for us. If God infallibly knew in advance Pharoah’s choice, then he was not free to choose differently. If God infallibly and exhaustively knows the future, then it is impossible for us to choose otherwise. Which means free will is an illusion.
#4. Open Theism: Reframing the question:
The fourth view—Open theism—suggests that the paradox is a result of framing the question incorrectly. What we’re really seeing in these two biblical motifs is not a question of God’s nature. Rather, it is a question of the nature of reality, specifically the future, in the universe God created
Open theism suggests that the future is mixed. It contains both “settled realities”– things cannot be changed, like the sun will come up tomorrow– and unsettled realities or possibilities that may or may not happen due to contingent causes such as human freedom. I believe the future is literally settled or fixed to the degree God wants to settle it, and literally open or unfixed to the extent God desires it to be contingent on our free choices.
God created us first and foremost to love and be loved. But love requires freedom, love must be chosen. So God created us uniquely free in a universe where the future is contingent to some degree on our free choices.
God did not have to do that. I believe it was within their power to create an entirely closed universe with a fixed future, where our choices have no more significance than a Zobmondo game. But instead God chose to make us free.
Pharoah’s decision to be an oppressor was freely chosen. His hardened heart shows how our free choices become habits that shape and mold our identity. And yet-- God is still sovereign. Nothing we can do or choose is unknown to God— they are not taken off guard or surprised— because God knows every potential future. God knew Pharaoh—God knew his heart– and so could anticipate his free choices. Like a master chess player, God has a plan for every potential future to insure their promises.
The interplay of God versus Pharoah’s hardening of heart in Exodus reflects this interplay of God’s sovereignty and human freedom– that’s the purpose of the alternating. When Rom 8:28 says God works for the good in all things it doesn’t mean that only good things will happen. Our experience of the world shows us otherwise. Rather it means that God is working alongside, working in all things. Not everything that happens is God’s will. But God has never left the scene, has never stopped working for good.
Why this is a good option:
There are a couple of reasons why I find Open Theism’s answer appealing:
First of all, it fits with Scripture and with our experience. It takes both biblical motifs seriously and doesn’t dismiss half of Scripture. And it helps us make sense of the world as we experience it—a world with great joy and beauty, but also with tremendous tragedy and suffering.
Second, it fits the way we intuitively act and feel. None of us, regardless of our doctrinal alignment, actually operate as if our choices are meaningless. We intuitively act as if our choices matter, that they make a difference in our future.
The biggest problem with the classical view is that no one really acts like the future is closed. And that’s a problem because when we adopt a theological framework that is disconnected from our real-life experience of the world it disconnects our heart from our head. It disconnects our beliefs from our practice, potentially leading to moral complacency. But most of all, I believe it disconnects us from God.
But when we adopt a theological framework consistent with our experience, our faith is connected to the real world we live in. We are able to recognize how God is at work in our lives, resulting in renewed passion and energy. For me, this is when my faith became alive.
Key points of Open Theism:
So, as we set out to explore Open Theism one step at a time, we can posit the first two points of this viewpoint:
1. Not everything that happens in the world was chosen or directed by God. The future is open to many possibilities. God knows everything as it is—a future possibility.
2. God can make promises about the future because they know what they intend to do.
What are the implications of this?
What changes for us if we adopt these two propositions?
First, it means that our choices are real. They make a difference. Pharoah’s actions mattered. His hardness of heart mattered.
Take a minute and think prayerfully about these two “Zobmondo” questions:
• Would you rather live your life burdened by bitterness and anger– or will you commit today to embrace the hard discipline of reconciliation?
• Would you rather live your life in bondage to hatred and tribalism— or will you commit today to seek God’s justice and mercy?
Those are real choices– choices that can change the quality and circumstances of your life from this day forward. There are aspects of the future you have no control over. But there are other things where you can influence and change that future.
A second implication of this view is that God’s choices are real. Their promises are sure. They will do what they say.
Nothing can defeat God’s ultimate purpose. That’s the promise of Rom 8. We have the freedom to make mistakes, bad choices, even to sin. But nothing can defeat God’s promised future.
God of hope and justice, we thank you that our choices matter. There is so much that is wrong with the world. Our hearts ache for justice, for you to come and set things right. Guide us in knowing how we can be a part of that. May your Kingdom to come, on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.