This is the sixth installment in our article series, “An Introduction to the Bondage of the Will,” written to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will.
When most people hear that “the human will is bound,” they recoil. It sounds like bad news. We live in a culture that prizes autonomy, free choice, and self-determination. To be told that our will is not free but enslaved offends our deepest modern instincts. But the paradox of the gospel — as Luther unfolds in The Bondage of the Will — is that this is actually good news. It is only when we recognize that our wills are bound that we can know the grace of Christ, who sets us free from enslavement to sin, the world, and the evil one.
The Illusion of Freedom
Jesus makes it clear: our wills are not neutral. “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin” (John 8:34). Paul carries this forward in Romans 7:19: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.”
This is not just weakness, but captivity. We are bent in on ourselves, like iron warped by fire. We clutch at freedom, but what we call freedom is only deeper bondage; a man sawing furiously at the very branch on which he sits.
And Luther, rather than warning him, offers to sharpen the blade: our will in matters of God is not “a something,” but “a nothing.” We are bound to make the same choice again and again, turned inward toward our cravings, chained to sin. The modern world insists otherwise, that we are captains of our souls. But, our own lives betray us. Why do we keep bowing to cravings that hollow us out? Why do our best resolves collapse by morning? The poet, Seamus Heaney would call it a “bog-body truth.” The ancient evidence dug up again and again: we are not free.
It sounds like curse, yes, but it is grace to know it. Because to face the truth is the first step out of the anesthetic, the first shudder of waking from the Christless, Spiritless dream.
God’s Will, Not Ours
The good news begins here: our rescue does not depend on our will. If salvation required our free choice, none of us would be saved. And so, as Luther would assert, if anyone ascribes anything of their own doing to salvation, even the very least, to the free will of man, they know nothing of grace and have not learned Jesus Christ rightly.
Paul puts it plain: “It depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy” (Rom. 9:16). Our will is captive, but God’s will is free, utterly free in mercy.
If we had to stitch our own way to heaven, the whole cloth would unravel in our hands.
This is why Jesus can say in John 15:16: “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” The cross is not God waiting for our choice; it is God storming the dungeon, breaking the chains, dragging us alive into light.
And why would we want a choice? If we had to stitch our own way to heaven, the whole cloth would unravel in our hands. But the heavenly hymn of salvation plays its own music, whether we like it or not, raiding us with sweetness until we swoon. That is the will of God: stronger than ours, merciful where we cannot be, free where we are fettered.
Bound to Christ
The language of bondage is not the end of the story. The slave-chains of sin give way to the cords of belonging. Paul says in Romans 6:22: “But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.”
This is a strange freedom: not to be unbound, but to be bound to Christ. The paradox that offended Erasmus of Rotterdam — and still offends modern ears — is the marrow of the gospel. Real freedom is to be mastered by Christ. Real liberty is to be yoked to his cross.
This is a holy exchange: our will bound in death, his will bound to us in life. He took the chains and made them into cords of love. In that paradox lies our rescue.
The Gift of Assurance
This teaching also gives unshakable assurance. If our salvation rested on the strength of our will, we would live in constant doubt. Did I choose rightly? Did I choose sincerely? Will I choose tomorrow?
But salvation rests on God’s decision, not ours. Our salvation, Luther would say, is taken out of our hands and put into the hands of God; not in our frantic scratching, but the gift that steadies. God’s will steadies ours. Assurance is not in our grip, but in his.
The Daily Dying of the Will
And yet, we feel the old bondage daily. Paul cries in Romans 7:24, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”
Here is the daily dying: the bound will must be crucified anew each dawn. As Jesus said, “Take up your cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). The self must be undone, because the soul is like an old barn where animals are tethered by rage, lust, and fear. Every day Jesus must untie them, drive them out, and give them back their freedom. It is painful, but it is real freedom.
The Good News
The world chants, “You are free if you choose.” The gospel sings, “You are free because you are chosen.”
The world says, “Make your way.” Christ says, “I Am the Way.”
The world insists on a will that is autonomous. The gospel insists on a will that is bound, first to sin, then to Christ. And in that binding lies the only real liberty.
Philippians 2:13 says it best: “For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
Hope is not in our freedom, but in our captivity to Christ. Bound, we are free. Enslaved, we are redeemed. And that is good news indeed.
