The Great Difficulty

Then I said: "Look — now I am thrown into confusion by an even harder difficulty."

"What is it?" she asked. "Though I already guess at what is troubling you."

"It seems," I said, "all too contradictory and at war with itself, that God foreknows all things, and that there is yet any freedom of the will. For if God foresees all things and can in no way be deceived, then what providence has foreseen will come about must necessarily come about. And so, if from eternity he foreknows not only the deeds of men but also their plans and wishes, there will be no freedom of the will; for there could be no deed and no wish whatsoever except such as the divine providence, which cannot be deceived, has foreseen. For if they could be turned aside in some other direction than was foreseen, there would no longer be a firm foreknowledge of the future, but rather an uncertain opinion — which I judge it wicked to believe of God.

"Nor do I approve that argument by which some believe they can untie this knot of the question. For they say that a thing is not going to happen because providence has foreseen that it will happen, but rather, on the contrary, that because something is going to happen, it cannot be hidden from the divine providence; and that in this way the necessity passes over to the opposite side. For, they say, it is not necessary that the things which are foreseen should come about, but it is necessary that the things which are going to come about should be foreseen — as though the labor were over which of the two is the cause of the other: whether foreknowledge is the cause of the necessity of future things, or the necessity of future things the cause of providence; and as though we were not striving to show that, in whatever way the order of causes stands, the outcome of foreknown things is necessary, even if foreknowledge does not seem to impose on future things the necessity of coming about.

"For indeed, if someone is sitting, the opinion that conjectures him to be sitting is necessarily true; and conversely, in turn, if the opinion about someone is true that he is sitting, then he must necessarily be sitting. In both, then, there is necessity: in the one, the necessity of sitting; in the other, the necessity of truth. But a person does not sit because the opinion is true; rather, the opinion is true because his sitting came first. Thus, although the cause of the truth proceeds from one side, there is nonetheless a necessity common to both.

"It is plain that we may reason similarly about providence and future things. For even if things are foreseen because they are going to be, and they do not come about because they are foreseen, nevertheless it is necessary either that the things that are to come be foreseen by God, or that the things foreseen come about — and this alone is enough to destroy the freedom of the will. But again, how preposterous it is, that the outcome of temporal things should be said to be the cause of eternal foreknowledge! And what else is it to think that God foresees future things because they are going to happen, than to suppose that the things which once happened are the cause of that supreme providence?

"Add to this: just as, when I know that something is, that very thing must necessarily be, so, when I know that something will be, that very thing must necessarily be in the future. Thus it comes about that the outcome of a foreknown thing cannot be avoided.

"Finally, if anyone supposes a thing to be otherwise than it is, that is not only not knowledge, but a deceptive opinion, far different from the truth of knowledge. Therefore, if anything is going to be in such a way that its outcome is not certain and necessary, how can it be foreknown that it will come about? For just as knowledge itself is unmixed with falsehood, so what is grasped by it cannot be otherwise than it is grasped. This indeed is the reason why knowledge is free of lying: that each thing must necessarily be as knowledge comprehends it to be. What then? In what way does God foreknow these uncertain future things? For if he judges that things will inevitably come about which it is also possible may not come about, he is deceived — which it is not only wicked to think, but even to utter aloud. But if he determines that they will be in the future just as they are, namely in such a way that he knows them equally able either to happen or not to happen, what kind of foreknowledge is this, which grasps nothing certain, nothing stable? Or how does this differ from that ridiculous prophecy of Tiresias: 'Whatever I say will either be or not be'? And in what way will divine providence be superior to opinion, if, like men, it judges to be uncertain those things whose outcome is uncertain? But if at that most certain fountain of all things there can be nothing uncertain, then the outcome of those things is certain which he has firmly foreknown will be.

"Therefore there is no freedom for human plans and actions, which the divine mind, foreseeing all things without any error of falsehood, binds and constrains to a single outcome.

"And once this is granted, it is clear how great a downfall of human affairs follows. For in vain are rewards and punishments set before the good and the evil, since no free and voluntary movement of the soul has deserved them. And what is now judged most just will seem most unjust of all: that the wicked be punished or the good be rewarded, when it is not their own will that sends them to the one or the other, but the fixed necessity of the future that compels them. So there will be neither vices nor virtues at all, but rather a mixed and undistinguished confusion of all deserts. And — than which nothing more criminal can be conceived — since the whole order of things is drawn from providence, and nothing is permitted to human plans, it comes about that our vices too are referred back to the author of all good things. Therefore there is no reason for hoping for anything or for praying anything away. For what could anyone hope, or even pray to avert, when an unbending sequence links together all that could be desired?

"That one bond, then, between men and God will be taken away — namely, hoping and praying. For surely it is at the price of just humility that we earn the inestimable recompense of divine grace; and this is the only way in which men seem able to converse with God and to be joined, by the very act of supplication, to that inaccessible light, even before they obtain what they ask. But if, with the necessity of future things accepted, these are believed to have no power, what will there be by which we can be linked and cleave to that supreme principle of things? And so the human race must necessarily, as you sang a little while ago, be cut off and sundered from its source, and fall apart."

Then said I: 'But now I am once more perplexed by a problem yet more difficult.'

'And what is that?' said she; 'yet, in truth, I can guess what it is that troubles you.'

'It seems,' said I, 'too much of a paradox and a contradiction that God should know all things, and yet there should be free will. For if God foresees everything, and can in no wise be deceived, that which providence foresees to be about to happen must necessarily come to pass. Wherefore, if from eternity He foreknows not only what men will do, but also their designs and purposes, there can be no freedom of the will, seeing that nothing can be done, nor can any sort of purpose be entertained, save such as a Divine providence, incapable of being deceived, has perceived beforehand. For if the issues can be turned aside to some other end than that foreseen by providence, there will not then be any sure foreknowledge of the future, but uncertain conjecture instead, and to think this of God I deem impiety.

'Moreover, I do not approve the reasoning by which some think to solve this puzzle. For they say that it is not because God has foreseen the coming of an event that therefore it is sure to come to pass, but, conversely, because something is about to come to pass, it cannot be hidden from Divine providence; and accordingly the necessity passes to the opposite side, and it is not that what is foreseen must necessarily come to pass, but that what is about to come to pass must necessarily be foreseen. But this is just as if the matter in debate were, which is cause and which effect—whether foreknowledge of the future cause of the necessity, or the necessity of the future of the foreknowledge. But we need not be at the pains of demonstrating that, whatsoever be the order of the causal sequence, the occurrence of things foreseen is necessary, even though the foreknowledge of future events does not in itself impose upon them the necessity of their occurrence. For example, if a man be seated, the supposition of his being seated is necessarily true; and, conversely, if the supposition of his being seated is true, because he is really seated, he must necessarily be sitting. So, in either case, there is some necessity involved—in this latter case, the necessity of the fact; in the former, of the truth of the statement. But in both cases the sitter is not therefore seated because the opinion is true, but rather the opinion is true because antecedently he was sitting as a matter of fact. Thus, though the cause of the truth of the opinion comes from the other side,^P yet there is a necessity on both sides alike. We can obviously reason similarly in the case of providence and the future. Even if future events are foreseen because they are about to happen, and do not come to pass because they are foreseen, still, all the same, there is a necessity, both that they should be foreseen by God as about to come to pass, and that when they are foreseen they should happen, and this is sufficient for the destruction of free will. However, it is preposterous to speak of the occurrence of events in time as the cause of eternal foreknowledge. And yet if we believe that God foresees future events because they are about to come to pass, what is it but to think that the occurrence of events is the cause of His supreme providence? Further, just as when I know that anything is, that thing necessarily is, so when I know that anything will be, it will necessarily be. It follows, then, that things foreknown come to pass inevitably.

'Lastly, to think of a thing as being in any way other than what it is, is not only not knowledge, but it is false opinion widely different from the truth of knowledge. Consequently, if anything is about to be, and yet its occurrence is not certain and necessary, how can anyone foreknow that it will occur? For just as knowledge itself is free from all admixture of falsity, so any conception drawn from knowledge cannot be other than as it is conceived. For this, indeed, is the cause why knowledge is free from falsehood, because of necessity each thing must correspond exactly with the knowledge which grasps its nature. In what way, then, are we to suppose that God foreknows these uncertainties as about to come to pass? For if He thinks of events which possibly may not happen at all as inevitably destined to come to pass, He is deceived; and this it is not only impious to believe, but even so much as to express in words. If, on the other hand, He sees them in the future as they are in such a sense as to know that they may equally come to pass or not, what sort of foreknowledge is this which comprehends nothing certain nor fixed? What better is this than the absurd vaticination of Teiresias?

'"Whate'er I say
Shall either come to pass—or not."

In that case, too, in what would Divine providence surpass human opinion if it holds for uncertain things the occurrence of which is uncertain, even as men do? But if at that perfectly sure Fountain-head of all things no shadow of uncertainty can possibly be found, then the occurrence of those things which He has surely foreknown as coming is certain. Wherefore there can be no freedom in human actions and designs; but the Divine mind, which foresees all things without possibility of mistake, ties and binds them down to one only issue. But this admission once made, what an upset of human affairs manifestly ensues! Vainly are rewards and punishments proposed for the good and bad, since no free and voluntary motion of the will has deserved either one or the other; nay, the punishment of the wicked and the reward of the righteous, which is now esteemed the perfection of justice, will seem the most flagrant injustice, since men are determined either way not by their own proper volition, but by the necessity of what must surely be. And therefore neither virtue nor vice is anything, but rather good and ill desert are confounded together without distinction. Moreover, seeing that the whole course of events is deduced from providence, and nothing is left free to human design, it comes to pass that our vices also are referred to the Author of all good—a thought than which none more abominable can possibly be conceived. Again, no ground is left for hope or prayer, since how can we hope for blessings, or pray for mercy, when every object of desire depends upon the links of an unalterable chain of causation? Gone, then, is the one means of intercourse between God and man—the communion of hope and prayer—if it be true that we ever earn the inestimable recompense of the Divine favour at the price of a due humility; for this is the one way whereby men seem able to hold communion with God, and are joined to that unapproachable light by the very act of supplication, even before they obtain their petitions. Then, since these things can scarcely be believed to have any efficacy, if the necessity of future events be admitted, what means will there be whereby we may be brought near and cleave to Him who is the supreme Head of all? Wherefore it needs must be that the human race, even as thou didst erstwhile declare in song, parted and dissevered from its Source, should fall to ruin.'