Predestination is the dirty fourteen-letter word of modern evangelicalism. It is the that-which-must-not-be-named doctrine of the majority who despise it. It is ever only breathed in whispers by those who are convinced of its biblical foundation, lest they roil the placid waters of Lake Kumbaya. It doesn’t need to be this way. We can have a lucid conversation on the matter without a donnybrook breaking out in the church parlor. Perhaps much of the consternation over the concept that God elects a people unto Himself prior even to creating the dust that the first person is formed from comes down to a fundamental misunderstanding of the term.

So often I hear a froth-mouthed opponent of the doctrine say (between spurts of saliva) something like this:

If God predestinates our salvation then nothing we do matters. We’re all just muppets churning out episode after episode of the only show on TV, written, produced, and directed by the Great Jim Henson in the Sky.