On Loving an Arminian

I have been a die-hard Calvinist for approximately sixteen years now.

Pictured: Die-hard Calvinist

During that time, I have engaged in “debates” with innumerable Arminians in person, via email, or in chat rooms. These debates were rarely moderated or formal affairs—just the typical sort of thing that Calvinists and Arminians find themselves involved in two or three times a week every day (that’s not a typo). In the process of these debates, I think I’ve hit upon just about every topic that could be hit upon in the differences between the Average American Arminian and the Average American Calvinist. Through it all, my beliefs have been strengthened and fortified by iron sharpening iron, and by the confirmation that in the marketplace of ideas, Calvinism has no peer.

All of which makes it quite funny, and possibly a bit ironic, that my girlfriend is a part of the Society of Evangelical Arminians. God has a truly marvelous sense of humor. As strong as my beliefs in Calvinism are, Skarlet’s are equally strong in Arminianism. Both of us consider the other person to be inconsistent in theology. We have many conversations with variations of the line, “I believe you are wrong about such-and-so and that your views ignore Scripture in this-or-that passage” only to then add: “And I know you think the same thing about me in reverse.”

Despite our differences, we both can see Christ at work in the other. Both of us want to worship God and to honor Him as He truly is. Both of us seek fidelity to the Bible. Honestly, that attitude is part of why, despite our differences, I enjoy her company. I truly can understand why she gets upset when a Calvinist apologist says things such as, “Arminians are trying to ignore Scripture on this point” or “Arminians are seeking to make man look better.” While this is the logical implication of many Arminian interpretations, that is not the reason why Arminians say what they do. They genuinely do believe that Arminian interpretations of Scripture are better than Calvinistic interpretations of Scripture, and therefore that Calvinism dishonors God.

As a Calvinist, it is somewhat sad to know that a theology that I find so comforting in Scripture is truly abhorrent to someone who is not only a sister in Christ, but also the woman I love. To know that no matter what happens, God is in control; that everything is accounted for and planned and that all things have a genuine purpose—this, to me, is the only theology that can make sense of the world, and my heart longs for Skarlet to see that view.

She is also saddened by my theology, for she has told me Calvinism saddens her. In our theological discussions, Skarlet would love nothing more than for me to see that God loves everyone and seeks to save every single person on Earth. She wants me to know that God is pure love, that He would never intentionally choose something that causes evil even for the greater good. She would love for me to see God in that light, and I would love for her to see why I can’t.

Here we are. Both convinced of our way on different paths. And both of us in love with each other.

So how is it that I came to fall in love with Skarlet? We met online in the comments section of Triablogue in April of 2010. When our discussion exceeded Blogger’s limitations, we moved our discussion onto email. I had seen a miniature picture of her, and my Blogger account has a miniature picture of me too. Yet I don’t think either one of us was at all drawn toward each other romantically at all. I was cognizant that she was a girl, and, being a single guy, noted that she was also single; but that was the extent of it on my part.

As we discussed various issues, it quickly became apparent that Skarlet is a vastly intelligent woman. I could present an argument giving proof sunrise is in the East, and if there was a shortcoming in the logic or even a flaw in the use of a word, Skarlet would spot it instantly.

While drawn first to her intellect, I also discovered that Skarlet was a very caring person. When she says she wants to live as Christ, she means it. And since she believes Christ loves everyone, Skarlet endeavors to love everyone too. The end result is that if you talk with her over any extended period of time, you soon find yourself in a safe zone where she is open with you and you are open with her.

As a result, in the midst of one of our arguments on Calvinism, and in the hopes of trying to show her why I felt the way I did, I used a deeply personal example from my own life as an illustration. And while I didn’t truly know it at that time, I’m certain that that constituted the beginning of my falling in love with her.

It accelerated in part when Skarlet told me of some things happening in her life. We began to exchange some prayer requests as issues came up, and began to develop a friendship alongside still debating one another on doctrine. Our debates culminated when I posted a blog entry that contained an illustration that I thought was innocent, but which Skarlet took deep offense to. To be completely fair, I do now understand why she was offended—she had a legitimate reason, but at the time I did not think so.

Emails were exchanged. I was getting more and more frustrated with her and couldn’t see us making any headway whatsoever. And to top it all off, I thought I had made a rather brilliant theological point that was being completely ignored by the brouhaha surrounding a mere illustration! Tragedy!

In the midst of these emails, Skarlet mentioned the aspect of relationship in addition to the discussion of the factual aspects we were arguing. Along those lines, I told her that if we lived in the same state, I would have already asked her out. (Her response: “I have a policy of not dating calvinists.”)

As the heated discussion grew more and more intense, at least on my part, I found myself writing a scathing email to her, full of all the choice words that I could fit in about how she was completely misunderstanding the situation and how everything I said was blindingly obvious, and she should just shut up and listen to me! But by the time I got to the end of the email, before I hit “Send”, I stopped and realized that I was afraid. I had grown to enjoy our conversations and I didn’t want to lose them.

I deleted that email without sending it, and instead issued a plea: “What do you need me to do to resolve our differences?” Skarlet, being a wise woman, suggested I give her a call, and she gave me her phone number. I first said I didn’t want to call her, but then changed my mind.

The rest, as they say, is history. After five months of emails in which we still managed to occasionally upset one another, and after countless hours of phone conversations, I got to visit Skarlet for New Years.

Nothing says “Romance” like Skellington.

III.

Now if I were a typical sort of person, I suppose at this point I would wax eloquently on how Skarlet and I show the true beauty of Christian unity by coming to the realization that our differences were pointless and irrelevant. But no one has ever accused me of being typical, and the truth is that while I love Skarlet and she loves me, neither one of us believes our differences are trivial.

Yet I do believe that we do demonstrate Christian unity in the following manner: we depict an accurate view of tolerance. That word has been much abused by the Politically Correct crowd, such that the original definition has been ignored. Today, tolerance means agreeing with everyone on every issue—that is, if you disagree, you are by definition intolerant. The problem with that, of course, is that it is impossible to tolerate something you agree with! You can only tolerate something you do not like or that you do not agree with.

Peter and Skarlet tolerating the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland.

Skarlet and I show true tolerance with each other’s theology. We embrace each other without rejecting the fact that our disagreements are profound, and without trying to brush them under the carpet and out of mind. Some of our most enjoyable conversations are still when we stay up into the small hours of the morning passionately arguing a theological point.

Disagreement amongst Christians is not a sign that there is no Christian unity. What matters is how the disagreement unfolds. If Skarlet did not stand up for her beliefs when I debate them with her, I would not respect her nearly as much as I do now; and I know the contrary is equally true. We love each other because we are both dedicated to passionately pursue the truth wherever it may lead, and I firmly believe that is the kind of unity Christ wants to see. He doesn’t want us to pretend our differences are irrelevant; I believe He wants us to love each other despite—and maybe even sometimes because of—our differences.

Yet it is not for the sake of being different. Rather, there is a core unity that extends through both the Arminian and Calvinist positions. It is clear that both positions cannot be right, yet it is also clear that both positions are held by genuine believers who desire more than anything else to accurately represent God as who He is. Our unity is found in this concept.

In some ways, I’m reminded of an old argument that was used against the concept of objective morality. The claim was that because people in Western cultures will coddle their children while other tribal cultures want their children working as soon as they can walk, there is no objective morality. The relativist asks, “If morality is objective, how can there be two such radically opposed ideas?” Yet this ignores the fact that beneath the disagreement is a fundamental agreement: both cultures want what is best for the children. They disagree as to what constitutes the best, but the ideal is the same. They want the good of their children.

Similarly, Arminians and Calvinists do agree on worshipping Christ and obeying His commands. We disagree on what that entails. Yet it is clear that an Arminian is my brother (or sister) in a way that a Mormon isn’t. We share the essentials, and we can worship together in spirit and truth. For example, when we were in Anaheim, we attended an Arminian church—I had no qualms, even though I certainly recognized the Arminian emphasis. And I know that Skarlet regularly attended a Calvinist church until just recently, when she became a member of a different church that holds to her own views. I’m certain that if, or rather when, she comes to visit me in Colorado, she will have no moral objections to worshipping in my Presbyterian home church.

This sort of tolerance is rare these days—the kind that does not ignore differences while still allowing us to worship God together. Yet I believe it is essential. And it surely would do the church nothing but good if there were more Calvinists who would fall in love with Arminians, and vice versa.

UPDATE: Peter and Skarlet were married on January 6, 2012.