Young, Restless, No Longer Reformed: Black Holes, Love, and a Journey in and Out of Calvinism

by Austin Fischer

Does it really matter? Does it matter if we have free will? Does it matter if Calvinism is true? And does what you think about it matter? No and yes. No, it doesn't matter because God is who he is and does what he does regardless of what we think of him, just as the solar system keeps spinning around the sun even if we're convinced it spins around the earth. Our opinions about God will not change God, but they can change us. And so yes, it does matter because the conversations about free will and Calvinism confront us with perhaps the only question that really matters: who is God? This is a book about that question--a book about the Bible, black holes, love, sovereignty, hell, Romans 9, Jonathan Edwards, John Piper, C. S. Lewis, Karl Barth, and a little girl in a red coat. You've heard arguments, but here's a story--Austin Fischer's story, and his journey in and out of Calvinism on a trip to the center of the universe.

Genres: Theology, Christianity, Religion, Christian, Nonfiction, Spirituality, Biography

130 pages, Paperback

First published January 12, 2014

About the author

Austin Fischer is the Teaching Pastor at Vista Community Church. His first book "Young, Restless, No Longer Reformed" was published by Wipf & Stock in January 2014.

Reviews

[Laramie Gildon · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’m gonna keep this short because I spent way too much time reading, and notating my issues with the book. His understanding of reformed theology is very poor. He is basically contrasting Arminianism with Hyper-Calvinism and doesn’t realize it. Equal ultimatum, double predestination, God being the author of sin are all his go-to assertions against Calvinism.

It’s sad to see such a smart and well spoken guy be so short sighted on his understanding of “the other side”. He doesn’t rag on calvinists, but tends to contradict himself by saying calvinists believe, in essence, heresies BUT they are brothers in Christ and love the Lord. It doesn’t make sense. After listening to a couple of his discussions about this book, and reading this book it really makes me nervous as to the state of his soul. He’s got no problem with open theism (heresy) and has A LOT of post modern thought throughout the book. Never really exegetes scripture, mainly quotes from varying sources who can say things better than him but not a lot of meat in the book. Just mainly a lot of philosophy. I wouldn’t recommend anyone reading this book unless they’re just dead set on reading as many books concerning the different views of soteriology as they can. If not, I’d definitely pass up reading this book.

If you’re curious as to what Calvinism is, DO NOT READ THIS BOOK. It will not be helpful for you at all. 👎👎 Really the only good thing I can say about this book is that it’s short, he’s easy to read and he’s engaging, but the content was not good.

[Ben Mordecai · Rating 4 out of 5]

Austin Fisher's life experiences that he catalogs here have been almost identical to mine: he was raised in a low-gravity evangelicalism and longed for something deeper, stumbled upon John Piper through Giglio connections and worked his way through all the Neo-Reformed world (or Neo-Puritain, from his nomenclature), only he eventually came out of Calvinism and I am still a Calvinist.

I sincerely appreciate his tone, his backstory, and his extreme familiarity with this theology and mindset. Most Calvinists are familiar with the common theological jabs of synergists, "All means all! For God so loved the world! Predestination is just foreknowledge!" Fisher does not fall into this category. His problems with Calvinism are deep and well informed. They aren't accusations about the incidental insufferable behavior of most young, restless, reformed, and they aren't modernist/postmodern musings in which the author journeys out of his evangelical commitments to Jesus as God, the Bible as non-authoritative, or the doctrine of Hell.

The most crucial arguments of the book are:

1. If God's predestination is the only deciding factor in damnation, either via double predestination or via non-election, he has created people who have never had any genuine opportunity to not burn in Hell. Thus the promises which apply to temporal suffering (that he will wipe away every tear ultimately) do not apply to the reprobate. Although God claims to be the God of love, (under Calvinism) he completely ensures that someone will suffer an eternal fate worse than rape or murder for eternity. From a human perspective, there is simply no way to consider that loving. While human thoughts are subordinate to divine thoughts, if God considers this moral then we have to ask ourselves how we can trust any intuition about morality when God's morality would appear to be exactly the opposite of our own. If we are wrong about something so central to the nature of God, how can we really trust anything? How can we know God doesn't think that for him and for his glory, lying is good, even though if we did it, it would be bad?

This throws a huge emotional wrench in the Calvinist cogs.

2. He argues that the image of God includes God's delegation of a portion of his sovereignty to us. God is "ultimately" sovereign, but he gave of himself. In setting us over the animals, he has set us up as miniature kings. Thus the sovereignty of God is not attacked on humanistic or semi-Pelagian grounds.

3. God's glory seeking is preeminent in the glory of his love, which expresses itself in giving, not taking. Hence he created man in his image. Hence he hears the cries of the Hebrew slaves. Hence God dies on the cross.

Altogether, these are strong arguments. Nonetheless, while his attacks on Calvinism are worth meditating on, his reconstruction, at least within the book, leaves much to be desired. To use his own "gravity" metaphor, if you're going to claim that we have been wrongly believing the theory of gravity, you need to have some stronger answers that help make sense of the world. Likewise, as a Calvinist, I've found it difficult to not see the eternal predestination of God in the Bible almost more times than I could count. Sure, everyone reads the Bible through their worldview until they are forced to see things in another light, but clocking in around 100 pages, he had room to provide more rigorous exegesis.

His analogies pertaining to salvation are helpful for thinking, "Yeah I guess that makes sense," but not for feeling the, "Thus saith the Lord." If we are dead in our sins and suddenly we become the instrumental actor in our salvation, this makes just as little sense as anything else. Further, if we are going to make this claim about Hell and the reprobate, why not take it further? Why didn't God make the punishment milder, or give people another chance to cross the chasm, or appear as an apparition before all people to explain to them in vivid and perspicuous detail the meaning of Hell and how to avoid it in a God-glorifying manner?

The answer, as we can all acknowledge, is mystery.

[David Svihel · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish I could give it 2.5 stars, but in lieu of that option I will try to counter-balance all these 5 star reviews.

I can definitely relate to Austin's story. My own story has many parallels to his own. The only difference being I have kept my Reformed theology and he hasn't. I found it interesting that until chapter 5 he mostly speaks of God in abstract philosophical language. In chapter 5 he begins discussing the reality that God looks like Jesus. Had I limited my "reformedness" to metaphysical abstractions and not seen how God desired to display his glory and sovereignty by dying on the cross... I probably would have started looking for something else to believe too. As it stands, I feel one can have their cake and eat it too. I agree with many of the insights about God's love, discipleship, and the cross discussed in the book and believe one can affirm those things without becoming a free-will theist. I appreciate Austin's honesty and enjoyed many of his positive theological proposals. I have learned a lot from Wright, McKnight, and Newbigin just as Austin has, though we have come to different theological conclusions. All Christians can learn many positive things about God's character and the Gospel by reading this book.

(As an aside, I felt like he kept using Double-Predestination as his foil throughout the work. As an infralapsarian single-predestiniarian I must admit I was annoyed that this is the point he kept hammering on. Constantly claiming that another's viewpoint "logically necessitates" this or that conclusion is not a rhetorical device you will want employed on your own views.)

[Yibbie · Rating 3 out of 5]

While I liked this book, I’m not sure I would recommend it.
I really liked his defense of the free-will position. He walks us through his own journey into and out of Calvinism. The issues he raises are issues that make it a theology that I do not agree with. He gives us a very fair if quick overview of both views and their problems. Along the way, he explains why he chooses to believe God has given us the choice to love Him or not.
I’d say I agree with probably 85 – 90% of the theology. It was hard to tell because they were points that he really didn’t go into as they were not the point of this book. The book itself was just too short for him to be able to deeply expound on any subject. I do know that I disagree with some of the theology of people he quotes, so we may have more differences than I know of right now.
What I did not appreciate – the cursing. While I agree that when discussing Hell, damnation and damned are words that should be used; I do not think that they should be used as just another word to emphasize whatever you are saying. There was only one instance of a variation being used that way, but I do believe it was completely inappropriate. Then there were a couple of instances of Hell not being spoken of in a Biblical way, but again being used as a curse word. I can’t decide if he was trying to use it for shock value or for a pun that just flopped. For me, it just came across as a very flippant way to deal with an eternal subject. That was a problem in other areas as well. Fischer has an incredible way with words, and after the first few chapters he does drop the flip manner and starts dealing with the issues more seriously.
So, I liked bits and didn’t like bits. I’m still not sure I’d recommend it unreservedly.

[Adam Lockhart · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fischer manages to do something in Young, Restless, and No Longer Reformed that is severely missing from most theological books where Calvinism/Arminianism is debated - tact.

I often read these books and it is hard to get past the fact that the author generally makes anyone who believes in the opposing view ignorant and they always seem to write from a condescending position. Those are 2 huge strikes when you're trying to win someone to your position.

Fischer writes as only someone who has journeyed in and out of one position and into the other can. He writes humbly. He writes as someone who understands the draw of the opposing view and he respects them. He doesn't try to cover up the "monsters in the basement" of his own theological position and admits that both positions have them and need to learn to live with the fact that neither side is air tight.

As far as content is concerned, Fischer writes through personal stories which makes a somewhat dry subject more palatable.

I'm hoping that my Calvinist friends read this book and we are able to have a discussion about it afterward as I'd love to hear their responses to the thoughts and positions presented.

6/12/17 UPDATE: I've asked several Calvinist friends to read this book over the years. None have. 😒

[Glória Hefzibá · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is amazing. It's well written (very cleverly written for someone so young), and easy to read. But don't let that fool you: it does explore profound themes.

Austin Fischer tells his journey (as the subtitle says) in and out of Calvinism. The resurgence of Calvin's soteriological system is a fact easily perceived: famous pastors, writers and leaders, who present themselves as 100% orthodox (and to whom my desperate generation can hold on, believing they're preaching the Gospel for what it is), are self-labeled Calvinists. So are they right? Is Calvinism the answer to our contemporary superficial theology? Austin says yes and no.

Calvinism was for him a good home, but there were too many problems with it. In an honest conversation with the reader, Fischer shares about his struggles with Calvinism and how it didn't seem to fit within the larger frame of a crucified Jesus' theology. He also tells us about what he learned through this journey and which his position is now.

At the end of the book, Austin Fischer offers us some of his insights on the most "Calvinist" of all biblical passages, Romans 9.

It is definitely a book worth reading, whoever you are, maybe an Arminian (free-will theist), a Calvinist, or just someone who still sits on the fence (and needs to jump!).

[Blake Western · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is more like a personal testimony. The author shares the problems he found with Calvinism which he once believed and his journey away from it. To put it another way, he moved away from what he called "the black hole of Calvinism" to find a new home. He is very fair in his treatment of the issues. It is not an exhaustive discussion. But, he deals with what he considers to be the central points. The book should be beneficial to all who read it.

[Kamejima · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is God a Vacuum or a Fountain? This debate is what Fischer is really getting at in his book.

I too have done some re-thinking on the YRR doctrines that have been so popular from my college days, so I was excited to hear about Austin's journey. In fact, the day before I bought the book I was debating some Piper theology in a reformed group on facebook. I agree with Fischer's biggest concern, that a God whose primary purpose in creating is to bring glory to himself, is a problem. In some ways I've come to the same conclusion, that God is primary who He is because of His love rather than His glory. I agree that Love is the key word, because it is concrete and communicative, whereas, at least in the lay level or local pastor level of the Young, Restless and Reformed circles the word glory, I feel, is too nebulous to mean anything. At least it's too nebulous to mean what the Bible means when it talks about God's glory (often enough to significantly define it) and certainly what Jonathan Edwards meant. I'd need to research Piper and Edwards more to see if I would be comfortable saying that I think Piper is wrong on Edwards, that God's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy himself forever. I think Piper is wrong, but I haven't looked closely at what he means to straight up call him out on it. But let's get back to the seminal question: Is God a vacuum or a fountain? That is to say, did God create to get glory to bounce back to himself, or to give of himself?I believe, along with Fischer that God is a fountain. Perhaps Piper also believes that. It is clear that Edwards believed that.

The problem I found in Fischer's book is that he equates labels Calvinism as the Vacuum (God created primarily to receive). Calvinism as I understand it is more easily understood through the Tulip acronym, or more simply that God is sovereign. The extent of that sovereignty seems to be more of a spectrum that a binary conclusion, and I don't think Calvin himself was as far as Fischer would put him. Ironically, I think Fischer is really fighting against the 'Young, Restless and Reformed' crowd that is largely non-confessional, and therefore not really 'reformed' in the basic sense of the word. So I feel the argument is weak simply of topicality-he fails to stay on the topic of 'Calvinism'.

As with others, I felt that Fischer was (rightfully so) unflinching in his logical conclusion approach to Calvinism. If Calvinism is fire Fischer sticks your hand in it and holds it there. Which is where he says that a God who creates primarily to bring glory to himself is a black hole. That's fine, but when he explains 'Free will theism' (Arminianism), he goes with a much softer approach 'We all have to have our own theological house that we live in, and every house has its monsters in the basement-we have to be willing to live with the monsters that come with our theological systems'. I actually really like this analogy, but ironically that's why I prefer Calvinism (as I understand it), the monster in the basement of arminianism is much scarier to me (What if I screw up my own salvation? What if I'm not good enough?). Again, and perhaps also ironically, the other (and main) reason I disagreed with Fischer is that I don't see the Calvinist God as a vacuum, but as a fountain (see Michael Reeves' Delighting in the Trinity, which is written from a reformed perspective). I mentioned Edwards earlier, because he is Piper's inspiration, and Piper seems to be Fischer's boogeyman. Edwards, in his treatise 'the chief end for which God created the world', states clearly that God is more concerned with His glory going out than coming back. In other words, the modern YRR crowd can get hung up on our 'glorifying God', where I think the original argument being made was that God was for His own glory going out. When you start to pin down definitions of what that glory is you can get things as specific as Jesus Christ. I'm convinced that when God is concerned with His glory going out, we are to understand that to mean God's goodness going out, God's love and life-giving nature going out. The problem is we focus on the fame and celebrity nature of the word glory and then it's easy for someone to get the impression that the YRR God is a selfish being, as Fischer seems to conclude.

Interesting points, uneven assessment and conclusion, but I think helpful to really ponder these issues because even disagreeing with them spurs thought on the topic, and I haven't stopped thinking about it a month after finishing.

[Don Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book expresses some of my journey into and out of Calvinism. It describes both the psychological dissonance set up by Calvinism's determinism and yet my experience of free will. It also explores Luther's "hidden God," the God who is revealed to us as one thing but is actually another, as in the revealed and the hidden wills of God. At the center of this book is God's will to express His love in Christ as the center of the Bible story, in contrast to what Fischer describes as the black hole of God's seeking His own glory. When we read of the love of God as the center of the story of redemption, we are not far off from the target. At the same time, at the center of my story is the choice to say yes to the love of God. Fischer's concern is that if there is some overriding plan that makes love secondary to this story, then the story is bent out of shape and leads us not into mystery but contradiction and darkness. I could go on.

The book is too short by half. Fischer gives us enough to explain his trajectory but not enough to fill in what I would consider essential details. And yet he does give expression to a growing chorus of voices that have sensed where NeoCalvinism is taking us and shouting no. This is good. You can be sure that this book will only be the leading edge of new books soon to follow expressing the same concerns.

[Joel Wentz · Rating 4 out of 5]

This may seem like a strange comparison, but while reading this I kept thinking, "This is basically a better version of 'Love Wins'." (And I liked Love Wins.)

Fischer is a compassionate and deeply pastoral writer. He isn't interested in lobbing stones at a theological system, but rather in opening up his own story. The memoir-ish aspects of this book are what set it above many other books wrangling with theological issues. His story is eminently relate-able, but he isn't a shallow theological thinker, either. Fischer tees up many of the major pillars of Calvinistic thought, in order to respond, but he is attempting to "steelman" the opposing position, giving gracious room for disagreement and acknowledging the flaws in his own thinking. He doesn't present an "airtight" system of thought, but rather honestly acknowledges that chasing such a system isn't possible. The journey through doubts (in faith) is what we are called to, and this book is a sensitive and moving guide.

Those looking for more polemics or systematic theological presentation will be disappointed, and there are certainly those who will feel Fischer misrepresents the Calvinistic view. But for readers who want an honest, humble story about the pain of deconstruction and the joy of reconstruction, this is an easy recommendation.

[Clayton Wagler · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this book, Austin Fischer documents his journey into and out of Calvinism. He gives the points of why he went in and why he came out. By doing this, he exposes some of the major flaws with Calvinism and some of the weaknesses/mysteries or “monsters” in his own view. Two of the most appreciable things of this book is that he is very gracious in presenting his view and is committed to gaining his understanding of God through Jesus Christ. Engaging and light read overall. 4.5/5 stars

[Shane Walters · Rating 5 out of 5]

Worth the read

Great book on a difficult subject. Enjoyed the personal flare as he describes his journey from Reformed theology to free will theism. Can we be certain of what we believe? Yes! But even faith has doubts in some things and that limp in theology is a good thing.

[Mark Dunn · Rating 4 out of 5]

An old saying is 'You become your enemy' I think that is what is driving all these young Calvinist with their deterministic world view and their muslim type beards.

[jacob van sickle · Rating 1 out of 5]

Wowzer. That was really bad.

[Casey · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is ultimately a reminder that God is a God of love first and forever.

[Chuck Meade · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love Fisher’s concise, direct approach as he philosophically and logically points out the major flaws in a Reformed view of soteriology. Of course Calvinists who have their mind made up are going to disagree with the “monsters in the closet” that Austin points out. While other books by men like Leighton Flowers tend to only be a Scriptural, intellectual defense of free-will theism, I appreciate the easier read of this book.
I would give five stars if he took a more explicitly, bold stance on the inerrancy of Scripture. I think you lose your room to argue with anyone on the other side if that is not your basis. My favorite point he makes is taking it all the way back to the imago Dei and underlining the truth that God can do whatever He wants with His sovereignty including giving man a free will.

[Adam Ross · Rating 4 out of 5]

This brief book is a fascinating journey into and out if Calvinism (or at least its Neo-Puritan variety of the Gospel Coalition, John Piper variety, though the applications are far broader).

Fischer is interested in sharing, first and foremost, his own story, and he is quite honest about his journey. He represents Calvinism well and notvas an antagonist, even saying that he continues to love what Calvinism gave him about the majesty of God and the importance of the Bible, rather than the self, in our lives and worship.

However, he also describes Calvinism as a black hole that will eventually devour everything else. His primary concern is that Calvinism's doctrine on God's self-glory finally envelopes God's love. This is especially a danger in the doctrines of election and reprobation, and I share a number of his concernd in that regard. He sees Calvinism as starting with Romans 9 and Ephesians 1 and trying to recast everything else in that image and sees this as dangerous, especially when Jesus seems to care almost nothing for these kinds of things.

In fact, Jesus is his solution to this dilemma. Jesus is the absolute picture of God. If your view of God doesn't look like Jesus, then you believe in a false god. In this way he reconstructs his world from the foundation of Jesus. He argues that God's glory is best seen and expressed not through God's power, but through His love and weakness, that His reign is one by kenosis, or self-emptying. This seems to me to be exactly right.

I was grateful too that the book wasn't just another Arminian screed attacking the five points. Fischer seduces you with wisdom and gentle thoughtfulness. His emphasis is not with replacing one label with another, and never refers to himself as an Arminian. And while I love a lot of his points, neither would I apply the term Arminian to myself. I would still be attached to the Reformed position, albeit in a modified way. But regardless of where you find yourself,this is a book to wrestle with and savor.

[Радостин Марчев]

Няма да слагам оценка на книгата понеже съм силно затруднен. Авторът разказва своя път в и извън това, което можем да наречен "неокалвинизъм" (макар че името не е удачно понеже то вече е използвано за движението на Кайпър и Бавинк през 20 в) или "неопуританство" (и както отбелязва Скот МакНайт във въведението имаме сериозни причини да се съмняваме в уместността на израза "реформирана вяра" за мнозина, които отхвърлят някои основни именно реформирани учения - например детското кръщение). Със сигурност нещата, които казва и изводите, до които достига няма да бъдат споделени от никой калвинистки богослов (твърде широко понятие, разбира се) и последните ще дадат съвсем различно обяснение. Това обаче не означава, че те не са верни.
Трябва да призная, че доколкото познавам материята авторът не пише наивно и има достатъчно сериозни познания. Там където достигаме до разминавания те са въпрос по-скоро на интерпретация и изводи отколкото на наивност и неразбиране.
Това, което прави книгата привлекателна е, че тя не е поредният задочен дебат - Фишер разказва своята собствена история, което прави иначе доста сухата материя жива и интересна. Всичко това е понесено с доста образен и жив (макар и на места поне за мен донякъде претруфен) език.
Историята на Фишер не е моята собствена история. Самият аз никога не съм бил сериозно "изкушаван" от калвинисткото богословие, макар темата дълго време да ме е вълнувала доста лично. Въпреки това я прочетох с интерес.

[Trevor Lloyd · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great little book which succinctly explains his journey into and out of the neo-Calvinist movement of guys like John Piper, R C Sproul, Kevin DeYoung etc. I have never been a Calvinist and find so much of its doctrine reprehensible, but am very aware that many good and sincere Christians have been drawn into this movement. A book like Fischer's was overdue - a short but theologically astute book, biographical and accessible, but also biblical - to show that there was an alternative way that many other Christ-lovers and followers have taken. And it centres on the crucified God, the God revealed in the Lamb who was slain seated on the throne. His is a kingdom about the power of love and not the love of power, about a self-emptying and self-giving love, not the black hole of self-glorification. His glory is his love. You do not find here a thorough dismantling of all the points of Calvinism and he does not deal in loads of exegesis (see Roger Olson for this, on his blog and in Against Calvinism); but he does present a really attractive alternative to the 'God' of Calvinism. My favourite chapter though is the one in which, using Jacob wrestling with God at Jabbok as his foundational image, he argues for a lot more theological limping as opposed to theological swaggering, for the virtues of humility and restraint instead of certainty and swagger. I want to learn to limp on my theological pilgrimage.

[Dominic Robin · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the most honest and thorough books on this topic I have read. I highly recommend for Reformed and Non-Reformed individuals alike.

[Barb · Rating 4 out of 5]

A good read. Perhaps my favorite quote was this:

Follow me. Search the gospels far and wide, and you’ll find this is the only invitation Jesus really ever extends to anyone. The kingdom is for disciples: people who are learning to follow Jesus in the entirety of their life so that they might be transformed in the entirety of their being: people who are following Jesus so they can become like him. You cannot opt in to Christianity but out of discipleship. Disciples aren’t super Christians; they’re just Christians.

[Aaron Irlbacher · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s hard to describe the disappointment I’m had reading this book. The author rejects Calvinism, but not apparently because he understands the issues particularly well. The book is filled with emotionally charged arguments, sweeping generalities, misinformation about the early church fathers, a general pessimism about classic Christian theism and biblical inerrancy.

The upside on this book is that it is a long personal testimony. Hearing other peoples personal experiences are helpful.

This book was not well supported with scripture. I think that is easily shown by the fact he is criticizing a theological system throughout the book and doesn’t use scripture directly to argue his point until the fifth chapter (halfway through his book).

[David Meldrum · Rating 4 out of 5]

"What's the worst thing about this college?". 

This was a question I asked at each of the three theological colleges which I was considering for my three years of study prior to being ordained in the Church of England. One particular college, the third of the three, was the one I would almost certainly attend. This wasn't because it was my natural favourite (it wasn't), but because it would enable me to be near my fiancée and her family as we prepared for marriage, whilst supporting her mother who was suffering from what proved to be terminal cancer. Everyone I met on the day I spent there was lovely. Especially the students. Most of them. Some of them were a tad on the over-zealous side. They were loudly talking up the benefits of the college whilst we played table-tennis. After the game concluded, I found myself in a group of (all men - not a surprise, all the would be priests here were men), continuing the conversation. As we talked, needlessly loudly given we were within a few feet of each other, I realised I was being quite literally backed into a physical corner; this probably wasn't deliberate on the part of the students, but it felt like an apt representation of the hard-sell I received. As I found myself with nowhere left to go, I asked that question - I had a very good idea by now what the college's perceived strong points were. I wanted to know what was wrong with it. A moment of silence: "I suppose it can be a bit intense occasionally.", came the reply. No kidding. 

I ended up studying there, mainly for the practical reasons I mentioned. I made some good friends, enjoyed some of the study because I like study and reading, and harbour a few (very few) good memories; but yes, it was intense. Theologically most of what was promoted  - by many staff and the most vocal students - was of one particular system. The system was Calvinism, most specifically what's known as 5-point Calvinism. Now theology has exercised some of humanity's greatest minds over the last 2,000 or so years, so it's impossible to do justice to such an intellectually complex system as Calvinism in a few sentences. Suffice to say it covers issues like the free-will of humans to respond to God's (irresistable) grace, and suggests (depending on quite where on a spectrum you sit), that God has chosen before time who will be saved and who won't be. When I expressed to someone at college that I didn't agree with these ideas I was, told that to believe otherwise was "sub-Christian". Not everyone went that far, of course, but the message was clear; there was only one theological system to which we should adhere. 

That all came back to my mind when I was reading Austin Fischer's book "Young, Restless, No Longer Reformed". I don't know much about the author, but the book stood out from the crowd as conservative reformed (in this case meaning Calvinist) theology has become a louder, richer and well-publicised force in some more westernised countries. It's a short book - 136 pages - so I wasn't expecting much heavy theology. I was expecting a narrative reflection on the author's experience. I did get the latter, but it surprised me how much of the former I also got, given the book's brevity. The author describes his own experience of growing up and being trained in Calvinist/Reformed theology, and then his gradual departing from it towards something rather different. He uses logic, reason, personal and pastoral experience, the Bible and theology to do this; and he does it accessibly. 

He doesn't pretend at any point in this book that what he's saying is the whole story. He doesn't dismiss Calvinism (though reading some online reviews, some feel he does). True, the version he was taught is very extreme; but the issue is that many people do actually take this theology to those extremes. He is also at pains to point out that he remains grateful for what Calvinism has given him, can see why some interpret Scripture in this way and lauds the intellectual integrity of those fully committed to it. The theological landing place he finds himself in is one he feels works, but he is clear it is not the finished article, and suggests that there should be no theological worldview that is complete and unassailable. God is other and holy; infinite and ineffable; and many other things besides. To suggest we can describe him fully would be folly; humility, says Fischer, should be the theologian's and disciple's ultimate posture. The God revealed to us in Jesus that the author paints for us is a loving, intoxicating and attractive one. I think I agree with Fischer more than I disagree with him. 

There's the rub. Increasingly there is no one theological system I can call my own. The other day I was trying to articulate this and said I might be 'theologically homeless'. I wondered if that might be somewhat tactless; but then a friend pointed out that maybe it was apt - accepting nourishment and provision wherever I find it. Not a perfect image, but a striking one; and one I suspect many of my homeless friends might resonate with. This doesn't mean I don't have fixed points - Jesus' divinity, the resurrection, historic creeds. But these describe rather than systematise; they give parameters within which to explore. These parameters, it turns out, are surprisingly spacious, far more so than the suffocating control I found Calvinism to be (and which other people experience of other closed theological systems). Yes, I have certainties; but there's much I don't know. It's a city the streets of which I'm still walking; alleys, byways and major roads which I'm still discovering; working out where the refreshing parks and coffee shops are. Is it pushing it too far to state here that Jesus said he that had nowhere to lay his head? Maybe; but the most pure revelation of God humanity has received is a person, who for three years roamed from place to place, doing what he sensed God was guiding him to do. That's not so much a system as it is a discovery of a map, a city, a region. 

If you have a theological system to defend you always have to be on the look out. You sense someone probing away at one part of is, so you have to scramble to keep it intact. If one part disappears, the whole will go with it. Such a system may look attractive, and appear safe and secure, but as soon as you find one part doesn't work, then it all comes crashing down. For me, as for so many others, that collapse can come around God's 'control' or sovereignty or whatever you want to call it. Extreme Calvinists - who take it to its logical conclusions - decide that God is in control of everything. We sort of have free will; but nothing happens to which God doesn't say yes. And still he remains perfectly good. 

Many believe this with confidence and integrity; I never have. A few days ago the hugely influential Christian writer Rachel Held Evans died, painfully young, of a sudden illness, leaving behind a husband and young children. Her writing nourished many  - including me - and painted a way back to a Jesus-centred faith that many who had given up on it all could embrace. She grew up in a theological environment similar to Fischer's, and ended up in landing place that may be a little different to his, but also has many overlaps. In the wake of her death, many are mourning. Some of my more Calvinist friends, whilst sincerely lamenting the sadness of this loss, stated her final blog post on the subject of death and loss on Ash Wednesday showed 'God was in control'. 

I admire them, but wonder if that could be said to her family. I shudder at the idea that some may say God was in the control of the terrorist's bullet which killed my friend in Nairobi one day. I think I couldn't worship such a God. Rachel Held Evans, Austin Fischer, and others like them provide for me and many others a picture of a Jesus-like God whom I find mysterious and other and holy and majestic; yet still truthful, kind, good and impossible to systematise or fill in all the blanks of, at least this side of the new creation. Humans aren't made in the image of a system; we're made in the image of a God of three persons, all in perfect relationship, all-loving, all-good. I don't need a system to draw close to that God - much as many seem to think I do. After all, when Jesus died, a curtain that preserved a system was torn in two.

No. I don't think that I need a system. I need a person, one whom I can know even as I am known. 

[Drew Miller · Rating 2 out of 5]

I will concede this space to Kevin Deyoung as he says it better than me.

"Although I disagree with Fischer on a lot of things, I agree with his insistence that what we make of Reformed theology is tremendously important. I love this line at the end of the book: “I wish there were middle ground, but . . . where would it be?” (108). Amen. It’s not possible to be a Calviminian. If you care about theology and care about consistency—like Fischer does—you’ll see how different understandings of God’s sovereignty set you on markedly different intellectual, devotional, and practical trajectories. Austin has a different approach to biblical authority, a different place for substitutionary atonement, a different understanding of the freedom of the will, a different take on epistemology, a different level of confidence in whether God knows all things, and a whole different set of authors he looks to for theological guidance. These are not small issues we are dealing with. It’s no wonder, then, that the Calvinist-Arminian divide is so wide and deep and that becoming Reformed or becoming no longer Reformed is such a big deal. So even if I find Fischer’s book unconvincing—and actually reinforcing for my Calvinist convictions—I can be thankful that unlike many Christians, he believes the debate is worth having."

[Justin · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you are looking for a defense of free will theism / Arminianism from scripture, this is not it. As the title suggests this is a personal story of how the author was lead into a Calvinistic belief of salvation and then to na Arminian belief of salvation. He shares his struggle with legitimate concerns in Calvinism and uses lots of quotes. I don't feel the book is up for debate on whether he is right or not because he isn't making a case (to me he doesn't) directly. In fact, based on one of the final chapters, I don't think he would ever make a case because he himself doesn't feel like one can fully be made (for Arminianism or Calvinism). He's just telling his story - so I won't comment on whether or not I agree with him. To me the book is just average.

[Bradley Davis · Rating 2 out of 5]

Went into this thinking there could be some helpful criticisms, but at the end of the day it's just full of straw man arguments that sometimes completely miss the point. I appreciate Austin's story and his willingness to be candid about his own problems with Calvinism. However, I don't feel like he gave the other side a fair shake. It was more of a caricature than anything else. It was equally frustrating to see him attribute benefits of Free Will Theism that are certainly not unique to FWT. Kevin Deyoung's criticisms of the book were on point, so I'd refer to that for a more thorough account.

[Jonathan Atwell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good read about an honest journey. I was a little bummed when I saw how short it was. (Not as much page for the buck as I would have liked.) However, Fischer did every reader a favor by stopping when he was done. I chuckled as I read because his journey through Calvinism landed him squarely in the middle of where most Baptists seem to end up. The bad news is that it will take a second read for me to catch the finer points he is trying to make. Read it. It's good.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic!

Wonderful book! I've been researching the arguments for calvanism and Armenianism for about a year now. This book had arguments that I haven't encountered before that were stated beautifully. I think it was a fair treatment of calvanism, often quoting John Piper and John Calvin. Overall, a very intelligent and worshipful book. You can tell the author loves God and loves people. I would highly recommend it.

[Kyle Shope · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was not expecting to like this book as much as I did, I wish I could give it 4.5 stars.

After reading all the 1 and 2 star reviews I went into this expecting to encounter an unbalanced, aggressive attack on some Calvinistic straw-men. That’s just not the case. The book also never claimed to be an exegetical commentary so I also don’t know why people were knocking stars off for that.

By the end of the book I began to understand the motive for some of the bad reviews…namely because there are 6/7/8/infinite subsets of Calvinism; so someone will always be upset with the representation. That said, this was an entirely humble (and relatable) portrayal of Scots theological journey in and out of Calvinism.

I, for one, was glad to break from exegetical commentaries on Romans 9 and the like. It was so refreshing to step back from the finer details and ponder the entirety of God and His relationship with His creation. Sometimes you read books that focus so deeply on one grain of sand that you forget to look up and take in the stunning view on the beach. Maybe a bad analogy, but that’s what came to mind.

I also enjoyed how fair Scot was, taking time to address the monsters in BOTH basements. Everyone appeals to mystery somewhere, and Scot does not sweep his skeletons into the closet. The reminder that certainly is impossible was entirely reassuring - I will never forget how our theology should cause us to limp, not swagger.


“I did and still do find a Calvinist reading of scripture that denies genuine free will possible, but I no longer find it the best reading of the Bible”

“I think Calvinists are right on some things, kind of wrong on some things, and really wrong on some things…but I could be wrong and I must be OK with that, because perhaps the only thing worse than being wrong is being certain you’re right.”

“We ought to speak of God. We are human, however, and so cannot speak of God. We ought therefore to recognize both our obligation and our inability and by that very recognition give God the glory. This is our perplexity. The rest of our task fades into insignificance in comparison.”

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I appreciate how Austin Fischer directly and succinctly takes on the big problem with Calvinism -- and sorry/not sorry, it is a big problem. While he does look at relevant biblical passages, he is primarily interested in assessing the system of thinking that these verses have been used to construct. In other words, Calvinists read the Bible this way, but what does their theology ultimately say about God? Fischer gets personal, but not so much that you'll conclude he changed his theology to fit what he wants to believe. This was a painful breakup for him, in part because Calvinism offered him depth. Fischer found in John Piper and other Reformed teachers and resources the spiritual nourishment he'd been longing for. Really, that's what makes the resurgence of Calvinism in U.S. churches so understandable; for so many, it points them to the greatness of God and the importance of Scripture, and is a welcome alternative to lukewarm cultural Christianity. I get it. But the antidote to our longing to answer every question and explain every mystery -- to make sense of what doesn't make sense -- isn't reciting "God is sovereign" over and over. Recognizing free will doesn't mean He isn't sovereign. Yet Calvinism boxes God in with such a high view of His sovereignty that we're forced to put everything, even the worst things, at His feet. The result is a warped view of His love and justice. It simply doesn't work to say, "Well, God's love and justice are beyond what we can comprehend. His ways are higher than ours." So much higher that they're opposite of the love and justice He calls us to practice? Jesus came to seek and save the lost, but according to Calvinism, the saved were never really lost and the truly lost can't be saved. I admit, free will isn't an easy pill to swallow; Jesus' invitation demands a response. But for a fallen world, Calvinism -- free of decoration and boiled down to its essential message -- smacks of hopelessness, not hope. For the average Christian reader who doesn't swim in deep theological waters, Fischer makes a strong case for rejecting it.