Jesus says to Nicodemus in John 3 - "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." (John 3:3) According to our study Bibles the phrase "born again"(regeneration) can also be translated as "born from above." And according to the Greek this verb is in the passive voice which means it is something that must happen to a person. In other words something must first happen to a person from above or it will be impossible for them to see the kingdom of God.
To be “born again” is to experience a second genesis. It is a new beginning, a fresh start in life. When something is started, we say that it is generated. If it is started again, it is regenerated. The Greek verb geniauo that is translated as “generate” means “to be,” “to become,” or “to happen.” Regeneration by the Holy Spirit is a change. It is a radical change into a new kind of being.
To be regenerated does not mean that we are changed from a human being into a divine being. It does mean that we are changed from spiritually dead human beings into spiritually alive human beings.
Spiritually dead persons are incapable of seeing the kingdom of God. It is invisible to them, not because the kingdom itself is invisible, but because the spiritually dead are also spiritually blind.
A monergistic work is a work produced singly, by one person. The prefix mono- means one. The word erg refers to a unit of work. Words like energy are built upon this root. A synergistic work is one that involves cooperation between two or more persons or things. The prefix syn- means “together with.”
I labor this distinction for a reason. It is fair to say that the whole debate between Rome and Martin Luther hung on this single point. At issue was this: Is regeneration a monergistic work of God, or is it a synergistic work that requires cooperation between man and God?
When my professor wrote, “Regeneration precedes faith” on the blackboard, he was clearly siding with the monergistic answer. To be sure, after a person is regenerated, that person cooperates by exercising faith and trust. But the first step, the step of regeneration by which a person is quickened to spiritual life, is the work of God and of God alone. The initiative is with God, not with us.
The reason we do not cooperate with regenerating grace before it acts upon us and in us is because we cannot. We cannot because we are spiritually, dead. We can no more assist the Holy Spirit in the quickening of our souls to spiritual life than Lazarus could help Jesus raise him from the dead.
It is probably true that the majority of professing Christians in the world today believe that the order of our salvation is this: Faith precedes regeneration. We are exhorted to choose to be born again. But telling a man to choose rebirth is like exhorting a corpse to choose resurrection. The exhortation falls upon deaf ears.
Charles Spurgeon once made the statement that, "we all, by nature, are Arminians." While on the surface this statement may seem needlessly polemical to some, perhaps experience and a little reflection suggest that it is more than just a little bit accurate. Anyone who has had the opportunity to witness the typical reaction manifested in those hearing the Calvinistic doctrines explicated for the first time can't help but wonder, if for a moment, whether Spurgeon may just have hit the nail squarely on the head. For, as soon as predestinarian buzzwords such as elect, chosen, and predestined are brought out, there is almost invariably a rather militant and visceral recoil on the part of the hearer that objects, "Why, then, does God still blame us? This just doesn't seem right or fair to me!" Indeed, there is often an immediate effort made to eviscerate the predestinarian language found in Scripture of its import and to creatively cast it in another interpretive mold. This fact should prove instructive to any person interested in these matters regardless of whether they ultimately pitch their tent in the Calvinist or Arminian camp. What is it, precisely, in the so-called "Calvinistic system" that causes people (believers and unbelievers alike) to so quickly revile its teachings and respond so paroxysmally? What do we learn of human nature and its habits by virtue of these nearly ubiquitous reactions to an aged church teaching? Clearly there is something that swells in our natures, compelling us to protect whatever it is that Divine monergism threatens. What is it exactly?
From the vantage point of Biblical anthropology, it cannot be anything other than our innate desire for autonomy. The fallen nature of humankind is such that we have a natural aversion to anything that smacks of overwhelming authority and control and which threatens to derogate our sense of freedom and liberty to choose for ourselves our own destinies. But was this not, after all, the primordial sin in the Garden and precisely the spiritual cancer that Adam has past on to us, his distant progeny? Ah, yes! Things begin to make sense. There is a natural angst that forcefully conjures up within us when first introduced to the fundamentals of Reformation theology and its teachings on grace which inalterably entails predestination in the plain sense of the word. Concerning this initial shock and avoidance, one Lutheran theologian puts plainly what many experience saying,
To find out that God has no interest in allowing our destiny to remain in our hands is a scary thought when we trust ourselves more than God. It might cause sleepless nights. It might inspire heated arguments. We might wish to avoid these for the sake of love-but love of what? Certainly not God. God is the primary one to whom we relate, and He will not have one of his creatures loved above Himself. To avoid dealing with central questions concerning salvation out of love is not spiritual, it is carnal.
Simply stated, human beings don't like to be told that they're not in charge and that, in fact, are quite literally at nothing less than the unmitigated mercy of God and the agents of His means. St. Paul labors to drive this point home to the congregates of the churches in Rome proclaiming unambiguously that, given God's absolute sovereignty, Divine favor "does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's mercy" and that "God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden" (Rom 9:16;18). Of course, being the apologist par excellance, the apostle immediately anticipates the aggrieved words of those who would object to this authoritative teaching saying, "One of you will say to me, 'then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?'" (Rom 9:19). And to this, Paul delivers a most humbling and forceful rejoinder somewhat reminiscent of Job's famous interchange with God so many centuries earlier:
But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?' Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use? What if God, choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath-prepared for destruction? What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory (Rom 9:20-23).
The Reformed doctrine of monergistic regeneration should not repel us. It should humble us and make us ever more grateful to God for both effecting and securing our salvation; for doing for us what we could not do for ourselves. This is cause for praise, not sour lamentation or protest which does terrible damage to the great and glorious works of God. Divine monergism is what the Reformers meant when they affirmed that our salvation is brought about sola gratia and soli Deo gloria, by God's grace alone for His glory alone. When we ponder why we are saved and not our neighbor, this doctrine reminds us that it is because of Him. And, while we do not what it is in God that leads Him to choose one over another, we do know what it is not. It is not anything in ourselves. There is nothing in us to which we can point that causes God to choose us and not our neighbor. The reason lies somewhere within the purview of His hidden wisdom and sovereign will. Thus, we rest assured that His bestowing faith on us is His gift according to His purpose, good pleasure, and perfect plan for the world (Eph 1:5). And we praise and glorify Him knowing that it is not of ourselves but Him alone, lest anyone should boast (Eph 2:8).
Resources in this articles:
The New Genesis - Charles Spurgeon
A Defense of Monergistic Regeneration - Gannon Murphy
