THE DOCTRINES OF WILL AND GRACE:
THE ESSENCE OF THE PELAGIAN DEBATE
ORIGINS OF PELAGIAN THOUGHT
EMERGENCE OF THE CONTROVERSY
JEROME AND THE PELAGIANS
AUGUSTINE AND THE PELAGIANS
THE PELAGIAN DEBATE IN CONTEMPORARY CONTEXT
The early centuries of the Christian church saw a number of clarifying councils and theological treatises directed at objective doctrines such as the triunity of God and the hypostatic nature of Christ. By the late fourth century, the discussions were becoming more subjective: to what extent does man possess a free will? What is the cause of sin? What are the theological implications involved in salvation, and to what extent does the grace of God hold sway? Such questions naturally led back to the very beginning of time and to the nature of Adam and the consequence of his sin – both for himself and for humanity. While such considerations had certainly existed embryonically in prior centuries, it wasn’t until this time that they came to the fore in the collective thought of the Church. The grace of God and the sinfulness and responsibility of man were, in some respects of course, understood and assumed by the early Church, and yet the dearth of defined doctrines inevitably led to poor theological constructions and, ultimately, heresy. Those involved in the debate stood on opposing sides of a well-defined and inviolate theological divide that has ever since been known as Pelagianism.
ORIGINS OF PELAGIAN THOUGHT
It has often been assumed that Pelagianism originated in the mind and work of Pelagius. Recent scholarship, however, has revisited the controversy and provided fresh insight into the birth of this system of thought. Pelagius, the principle figure in the debate, has been “lifted out of his theological isolation” and there has been discovered a “line of continuity between him and Christian thinkers both previous and contemporary with him.” From the extant works of both Jerome and Augustine, it is clear, for instance, that Pelagius drew heavily from the work of one Sextus. While Jerome identifies Sextus as a pagan, Pythagorean philosopher (and Augustine seems to accept this idea, as well), Robert Evans makes the case that Sextus was (correctly or not) generally believed at the time to have been the bishop of Rome, Xystus, who was martyred in 258. If this was truly the widespread belief, and if it is true that Sextus was widely read in the Christian world, then Pelagius would at least have seen his own developing theology to be within the mainstream. More pertinently, however, is the role of a contemporary of Pelagius’, of whom there is no credible doubt as to his identity or his beliefs.
Rufinus was a Syrian priest and monk who had spent time in Jerome’s monastery in Bethlehem. He would later write critically of Jerome and he would also begin to exert a significant influence over Pelagius and Caelestius, a follower of Pelagius, who would become quite outspoken in his defense of what became known as Pelagianism. Caelestius had met Rufinus in Rome in 399, and had already worked closely with Pelagius since around 390.
It could be said of Rufinus that he was, in fact, the first Pelagian. Chief among Rufinus’ teachings was the denial of original sin. Augustine describes an inquiry of Caelestius by Bishop Aurelius concerning the former’s view that man was not cursed with the sin of Adam. Caelestius stated that his view was not unique, but could only give the name of Rufinus when pressed to identify others who held the same position. Yet despite the influences of Sextus, Rufinus, and others, Pelagianism is clearly most indebted to its namesake, who engaged in a number of polemical works meant to clarify and disseminate a system of thought that would eventually be anathematized as heresy.
EMERGENCE OF THE CONTROVERSY
Pelagius (370-420) was a British monk “famous for his piety and austerity.” Not much of his story is known, but he arrived in Rome from the British Isles to work among the poor along the docks. He quickly noticed that many who professed to be Christian were living lives that hardly bore witness to their profession, and he was concerned that the “demoralizingly pessimistic” doctrines of original sin and the necessity of the free grace of God for salvation had led to a casual moral laxity. Pelagius believed that, like Adam, we were born innocent and in possession of free will and that, if we believed that it was our nature to sin, then we would feel at least some degree of justification for sinful decisions. Further, he considered it a diminution of the character of God to declare that God’s creation would be unable to avoid sin. Pelagius especially objected to the increasingly influential works of Augustine of Hippo, such as Augustine’s Ad Simplicianum wherein he presented his “conception of mankind as a ‘lump of sin,’ unable to make any move to save itself and wholly dependent on God’s grace.” In particular, what offended Pelagius’ theology was Augustine’s well-known prayer: Give what Thou commandest, and command what Thou wilt. Pelagius thought that sentiment suggested that “men were puppets wholly dependent upon the movements of divine grace.” Yet, while it has been traditionally thought that the Pelagian bell was first rung when he heard the prayer of Augustine, the rumblings of controversy reach further back to the interaction between Jerome and Rufinus.
JEROME AND THE PELAGIANS
While Jerome and Rufinus had presumably had a cordial relationship while Rufinus was in Jerome’s monastery, there arose a controversy between them that would set the stage for the later Pelagian conflict. Jerome had made it clear in his writings that he was opposed to the heretical doctrines of Origen. However, in writing a commentary on the book of Ephesians, he appeared to depend upon Origen’s ideas and interpretations. Rufinus, who was in the theological tradition of Origen, declared that Jerome was sympathetic to Origen and self-contradictory. He wrote: “What he [Jerome] calls on us on the one hand to condemn, he exhorts us on the other hand to follow: what he asserts, that he reproves: what he hates, that he does,” and Jerome wrote his three-volume Apology to defend his rather indefensible position. Chief among Jerome’s quarrels with Origen (and Rufinus) was the notion of sinless perfection.
Jerome was convinced that the idea that man could live a life free from sin was contrary to the gospel and, more significantly to Jerome, a usurpation of the divine nature of God. For, as Jerome contended, it was a characteristic of God – and only of God – to be immutable and impeccable. To claim such impeccability for mere men (even potentially) is either to sully the holiness of God or, conversely, to elevate man to the place of God. Thirteen years after Jerome stated his case defending his use of Origen (weakly) and opposing the idea of sinless perfection (forcefully), and thinking the matter had been resolved, he was confronted with yet another “heretic” claiming the same thing. This heretic was, of course, Pelagius.
Pelagius, it has been said, was “shooting arrows from the quill of Rufinus.” He drew heavily on the Origen/Rufinus theological tradition, and, like Rufinus some years earlier, Pelagius commented on Jerome’s simultaneous dependence upon and vilification of Origen. Jerome rejoined the fray, and wrote, once again, against the idea of sinless perfection, claiming that Pelagius was teaching that humanity was capable of attaining divine perfection. In a letter responding to Ctesiphon concerning the Pelagian doctrine, Jerome wrote:
Already before the arrival of your letter many in the East have been deceived into a pride which apes humility and have said with the devil: “I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will be like the Most High.” Can there be greater presumption than to claim not likeness to God but equality with Him, and so to compress into a few words the poisonous doctrines of all the heretics…?
For his part, Pelagius denied the charge and said, rather, that his view is of man achieving sinlessness by obedience, as opposed to God’s sinlessness which is by nature, and therefore, he claimed, the distinction between the Creator and the created remained intact. Nevertheless, the fight had been joined and the battle lines were being drawn between Pelagius and his sympathizers on one side and, on the other side, Jerome and, later, Augustine.
AUGUSTINE AND THE PELAGIANS
Augustine, born in 354, became a priest at thirty-seven and a bishop five years later. He was a prolific writer who had a keen sense of the essentials of the faith. B. B. Warfield was convinced that Augustine was providentially put in place precisely to defend the doctrines of the will of man and the grace of God against the Pelagians. Discussing the centrality of grace in Augustine’s writings against Pelagianism, Warfield writes:
Both by nature and by grace, Augustine was formed to be the champion of truth in this controversy. Of a naturally philosophical temperament, he saw into the springs of life with a vividness of mental perception to which most men are strangers; and his own experiences in his long life of resistance to, and then of yielding to, the drawings of God's grace, gave him a clear apprehension of the great evangelic principle that God seeks men, not men God, such as no sophistry could cloud. However much his philosophy or theology might undergo change in other particulars, there was one conviction too deeply imprinted upon his heart ever to fade or alter—the conviction of the ineffableness of God's grace. Grace—man's absolute dependence on God as the source of all good—this was the common, nay, the formative element, in all stages of his doctrinal development…
Augustine did, in fact, become the champion of orthodoxy in the dispute with Pelagianism, and it is his name and his body of work that the modern world chiefly associates with the condemnation of the Pelagians. He entered the debate in 412 with the works: On the Merits and Forgiveness of Sins, and, soon after, with On the Spirit and the Letter. While both of these works were addressed against Pelagian ideas, Augustine had not yet engaged Pelagius personally. Evans suggests that the matter took on a more personal urgency for Augustine when, in 415, he read Pelagius’ work On Nature and saw that Pelagius was quoting a number of church fathers, including Augustine’s own earlier works, to support his theological conclusions. Augustine responded with a work bearing an appended title: On Nature and Grace. While a number of letters and sermons also dealt with the issue, this work largely established the bishop of Hippo as the voice of orthodoxy in the controversy. Thus, while the works of Jerome targeted the Pelagian doctrines of God and of sinless perfection, Augustine tackled the dual concerns of the nature of the will of man and the necessity of the grace of God.
The essence of the Pelagian controversy may best be introduced anecdotally.
A man [was] preaching to some poor, homeless people, people without much hope in this world. The preacher used some lines from Rudyard Kipling’s poem, “If”: “If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of work, well done, you will be a man my son. And if you can keep your head when all around you are losing theirs and blaming it on you, you will be a man my son.” And the poem continues with more suggestions for how we ought to live good lives. That is a Pelagian message. As the preacher continues to quote the poem, he is finally interrupted by a voice from a man in the back of the room, “But what if I cannot?” That is the Augustinian response, at least part of it. We cannot.
While there were other, ancillary differences between the two schools (such as the purpose and efficacy of baptism), the whole of their disagreement hinged on the pivotal doctrine of original sin. In fact, each system can be described as internally logical and consistent when the respective view on original sin is accepted as foundational. Pelagius held that sin is not a substance and cannot, therefore, be passed down from Adam to all others. So while Pelagius did admit to Adam’s sin being injurious to humanity, he meant that it was injurious “by imitation, not organically.” Adam, then, set a bad precedent, but in no way did his action dictate ours. In Pelagius’ words, there are enough things for which we are morally accountable without blaming us for things for which we are not. For Pelagius, a person born without sin and with free will can freely choose not to sin. The inescapable logical inference, therefore, is that such a person does not require the grace of God (at least not salvifically). For Augustine, on the other hand, a person born in sin and whose will is in bondage to that sin can do nothing – least of all obtain salvation – apart from the grace of God.
F. F. Bruce said that Pelagius was the “spiritual father” of all those who embrace the idea of “justification by decency.” It was Pelagius’ view that since God has given man the commandment to be holy, man must be able to do so, else God would be unjust. This formed the basis for the Pelagian understanding of the will of man. Subsequent to his libertarian view of the will, his doctrine of grace was radically different from that of Augustine who defended the doctrine of original sin. As Warfield comments, “in emphasizing free will, he [Pelagius] denied the ruin of the race and the necessity of grace.” Thus, the crux of the controversy revolved around the doctrines of will and grace, each of which will be considered in turn.
Explaining his understanding of the freedom of the will of man, Pelagius wrote:
We distinguish three things and arrange them in a definite order. We put in the first place ‘posse’ [ability, possibility]; in the second, ‘velle’ [volition]; in the third ‘esse’ [existence, actuality]. The posse we assign to nature, the velle to will, the esse to actual realization. The first of these, posse, is properly ascribed to God, who conferred it on his creatures; while the other two, velle and esse, are to be referred to the human agent since they have their source in his will.
The idea of unconditional free will was the “keystone” of Pelagius’ theology and was what he believed enabled man to attain righteousness and to be named as a Christian. Pelagius defined a true Christian as one “who is one not in word, but in deed,… holy, innocent, unsoiled, blameless…” Thus, God grants to each person the ability to live without sin, and it is then dependent upon the person to volitionally and actually live up to that standard of blamelessness. Charles Hodge insists that, rather than enabling the person to live up to the law of God, the Pelagian system teaches that “the law of God has been lowered so far that its demands are satisfied by a less degree of obedience than was required of Adam.”
In contrast to Pelagius, Augustine held that we were quite unable to do that which Pelagius insisted that we must do. Drawing on Scriptural passages that he believed elucidate the doctrine of original sin, he adamantly maintained that our will was in bondage to sin as a result of the Fall and could no more choose to do what is right and good (from God’s perspective) than could a dead man get up and walk of his own volition. Chiefly, Augustine was concerned with the “good” act of choosing to put faith in Christ for salvation. This is what he contends to be untenable. Augustine summed up his view by saying, “There can be only two basic loves, love of God unto the forgetfulness of self, or love of self unto the forgetfulness of God.” Of course, there can be – and are – a number of other loves, but the point is that these two are at the base of who we are, and defines us as Christian or non-Christian. Thus, a non-Christian would have, at his core, a love of self. Whatever proceeds from that – however “good” it may look to other people – is sinful in the eyes of God because of this selfish core. The “act” may be inherently good, but the “actor” is inherently sinful, and God weighs the heart of the actor most of all. That, to Augustine, was the true nature and singular intent of our velle, and the resultant esse would always only be evil apart from the grace of God.
Regarding the nature of the will of Adam, it was Augustine’s position that Adam had indeed been innocent and possessing free will before the Fall (posse non peccare). Further, contrary to Pelagius, Augustine held that God had created Adam to be immortal and that the Fall not only wrought Adam’s spiritual death, but his physical death, as well. He wrote,
“But in addition to the passage where God in punishment said, “Dust thou art, unto dust shalt thou return,”—a passage which I cannot understand how any one can apply except to the death of the body,—there are other testimonies likewise, from which it most fully appears that by reason of sin the human race has brought upon itself not spiritual death merely, but the death of the body also.
Most significantly to the doctrine of original sin and the consequent depravity of the will, Augustine declared that the penalty for Adam’s sin was transmitted to the rest of humanity. We die physically because Adam sinned, and we are also born “spiritually dead (Eph 2:1)” because of his sin. As a result, our will is depraved, and we cannotnot sin (non posse non peccare). Apart from the initiative work of God’s grace to produce saving faith within us, we would ever only will to sin, and thus would be forever lost in our natural state.
The doctrine of grace is, surprisingly perhaps, rather scantly presented in the writings of the early Church. It is, of course, present throughout the pages of Scripture, most notably in the letters of Paul, but (as was addressed earlier) the chief thrust of the early theologians was to get straight the objective biblical doctrines against the heretical movements of Gnosticism, Arianism, and the like. It is not until Augustine that we find a theologian wholly immersed in and amazed by the grace of God. Because of the severity of his doctrine of original sin, he was compelled either to run toward the doctrine of efficacious grace or to sink into the hopelessness that attends the command to do what one cannot do. Augustine defines grace in this way: “The grace of God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, must be understood as that by which alone we are delivered from evil, and without which we do absolutely no good things.”
For his part, Pelagius admitted to the doctrine of grace, but, for him, it was radically redefined to mean two things. First, the “grace of creation,” whereby God created mankind with the freedom of will to choose to do right (this grace not being lost in the Fall) and, second, what Augustine called the Pelagian grace of “law and teaching.” Pelagius discusses this aspect of his perception of grace:
“God helps us,” says he, “by His teaching and revelation, whilst He opens the eyes of our heart; whilst He points out to us the future, that we may not be absorbed in the present; whilst He discovers to us the snares of the devil; whilst He enlightens us with the manifold and ineffable gift of heavenly grace.”
Writing his response, after reading Pelagius’ exposition of his theology, Augustine offers this review:
I have nowhere been able to find in them [Pelagius’ writings] that he acknowledges such a grace as helps not only that “natural capacity of willing and acting” (which according to him we possess, even when we neither will a good thing nor do it), but also the will and the action itself, by the ministration of the Holy Ghost.
Thus, there is a vast gulf between Augustine’s grace that compels us from within to do that which we are, from conception, unable to do, and Pelagius’ grace that externally enlightens us to do that which we are, from creation, empowered to do.
The debate raged on for several more years before there was any sense of resolution. Phillip Schaff offers this rather pointed epilogue to the tale of the principles on the losing side of the debate:
After this Pelagius and Celestius found a fitting harbour of refuge with Nestorius of Constantinople, and so all three were condemned together by the council of Ephesus, he that denied the incarnation of the Word, and they twain that denied the necessity of that incarnation and of the grace purchased thereby.”
In the end, after anathematizing Pelagianism at the council of Ephesus in 431, the church essentially adopted the doctrine espoused by Augustine, and that position was affirmed at subsequent councils. Nevertheless, in varying degrees, elements of their debate persist today.
THE PELAGIAN DEBATE IN CONTEMPORARY CONTEXT
There can be little argument that something like Pelagianism is the system of thought most adhered to in the modern world. In religious systems other than Christianity, it is boldly declared that there is something that must be done (good deeds, religious obligations, etc.) to merit salvation; and with the understanding that such things must be done comes the assumption that they can be done. In these systems, there is no concept of a gracious God saving a person in spite of his best efforts; Christianity alone says that.
Likewise, for many among the millions who profess faith in Christ, there is at least an underlying reliance upon the Pelagian idea of meritorious salvation. R. C. Sproul has said, “Pelagianism has a death grip on the modern church.” This is due to the generally accepted premise that God rewards the “good” person who “was always so nice” or who “would always lend a helping hand.” Such funereal accolades are understood to imply that surely the deceased was ushered into heaven on the strength of his good conduct. Comparatively few there are indeed who contend that their eternal destiny is secured only by the grace of God, as attested to in Scripture: For by grace are ye saved… (Ephesians 2:8).
Also, there is much talk in evangelical circles of the “free will” which everyone possesses. This is right – to a point. But it is the Augustinian free will that we have, not the Pelagian free will that so many assume that we have. We are indeed free to choose that which we will to choose. We are free to do that which we will to do. We are even free to believe as we will to believe. Yet according to Scripture, the will (apart from the regenerative work of the Holy Spirit) is always, wholly, and actively inclined to evil. So we do indeed have the freedom to choose, act, or believe that which we will; but our will, being captive to sin, will always will to sin. The Westminster Confession speaks to the matter of the free will of man:
“Man, by his fall into a state of sin, has wholly lost all ability of will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation: so as, a natural man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not able, by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself thereunto.”
Thus, while fallen humanity may will a material good (e.g., altruistic or philanthropic acts), they are not spiritually good acts, which must proceed from a love for God. Jonathan Edwards expounded on this when he argued that man did indeed possess the natural ability to choose to do good or evil but not the moral ability to do good. That is, sin had so corrupted the nature of fallen man that the will is in bondage to it. Regeneration, by grace, endues the will with the capacity to do good; the Truth really does set us free.
Harnack wrote that “Pelagian doctrine in its deepest roots is godless.” This may not define the principle characters in the development of the system, but it is, in fact, the logical conclusion of such a system. For if we do not need God, He becomes superfluous: an interesting topic, perhaps, or an “invisible friend” in whom we confide, but not the God upon whom we depend for our very lives. How does one truly hunger and thirst in the absence of the incontestable need for food and drink? It is in the needing of God that we run to Him, cling to Him, and love Him. This was the essence of Augustine’s theology of grace.
Pelagius was rightly concerned with the moral response of the Christian faith. He was justifiably disturbed with the blatant hypocrisy he witnessed among those who professed faith in Christ. However, in his appraisal of the causes for their behavior, he appealed to the arguments of those who had failed to appreciate the clear and compelling evidences for the grace of God throughout the pages of Scripture. As a result, he constructed a theology that ignored (or at the least weakly redefined) grace to be something other than the singularly significant theological idea that Augustine saw it to be. In attributing to man the blame for failing to stand (a wholly biblical position with which Augustine would agree), Pelagius attributed to man the moral ability to so stand, and it was against this point that Augustine argued so forcefully.
Augustine firmly asserted, with Pelagius, that fallen man is indeed free. However, against Pelagius, he contended that such freedom is limited by the will to do only evil. God graciously initiates our salvation and, in so doing, makes us even freer. After responding to His grace by faith, we are still free to choose evil and yet we are now, once again, free to choose to do spiritual good. We are thus, in this respect, returned to the state of Adam prior to the Fall: both posse non peccare and posse peccare. And the culmination of this line of thought (and Augustine’s zenith as well) is that one day we will be non posse peccare – when we will be finally freed from the vestiges of this sinful nature and it will no longer be possible for us ever to sin again. Pelagianism attempts to scale such heights on the strength on human ability, with merely a cursory nod to the aid of grace. Augustine, acutely aware of his own abject failures and inadequacies, understood that it was by grace, and by grace alone, that there can ever be an eternal hope of peace with God.
Augustine. Answer to the Pelagians. Trans. Roland J. Teske, ed. John E. Rotelle. NY: New City Press, 1997.
Berkhof, Louis. The History of Christian Doctrines. Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1975.
Bettenson, Henry and Chris Maunder, ed. Documents of the Christian Church, 3d ed. Oxford University Press, 1999.
Bruce, F. F. The Spreading Flame: The Rise and Progress of Christianity from its First Beginnings to the Conversion of the English. Exeter: Paternoster, 1958.
David Calhoun, Ancient & Medieval Church History. David Calhoun & Covenant Theological Seminary, 2007. [http://worldwidefreeresources.com/upload/CH310_T_16.pdf]
Duncan, J. Ligon. "Pelagian Origins." Short paper first given to the University of Edinburgh, New College, Department of Ecclesiastical History's Seminar on "The Origins of North African Christianity from the beginnings to Augustine," February 10, 1988.
Evans, Robert F. Pelagius: Inquiries and Reappraisals. NY: Seabury Press, 1968.
Ferguson, John. Pelagius: A Historical and Theological Study. NY: AMS Press, 1956.
Gerstner, John. A Primer on Free Will. Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1982.
Gonzalez, Justo L. The Story of Christianity, Vol. 1. NY: HarperOne, 1984.
Kidd, B. J. History of the Christian Church to A.D. 461, vol. 3. Oxford, 1922.
Hodge, Charles. Systematic Theology, Three Volumes. Reprint, Hendrickson, 2003.
Kelly, J. N. D. Early Christian Doctrines, revised edition. New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1978.
Warfield, Benjamin B. Augustine and the Pelagian Controversy, in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1905.
 Robert F. Evans, Pelagius: Inquiries and Reappraisals (NY: Seabury Press, 1968), 43.
 Jerome assigned the Sentences of Sextus to a pagan philosopher: “But who can adequately characterize the rashness or madness which has led him to ascribe a book of the Pythagorean philosopher Xystus, a heathen who knew nothing of Christ, to Sixtus, a martyr and bishop of the Roman church?” Jerome, Letter to Ctesiphon (trans. Philip Schaff in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, series 2, volume 3 [New York: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1892]). Likewise, Augustine derides Pelagius’ use of the Sentences “as if they really were the words of this Sixtus [the bishop].” On Nature and Grace (trans. Roland J. Teske in Answer to the Pelagians by Augustine [New York: New City Press]), 2.42.
 Evans, 44.
 There have been objections raised that the Rufinus associated with Jerome was not the Rufinus associated with Pelagius (cf. B. J. Kidd, History of the Church to A.D. 461[Oxford, 1922] III, 57); however, there is an explicit remark by Marius Mercator that Pelagius “imbibed his heretical opinions from Rufinus during the papacy of Anastasius (398-402)” John Ferguson, Pelagius: A Historical and Theological Study (NY: AMS Press, 1956), 44, and Jerome writes of Rufinus a few years later: “It is hard that an old friend with whom I had been reconciled should attack me in a book secretly circulated among his disciples.” Apology (NPNF 2-06), Book 1.
 Roland Treske, introduction to Answer to the Pelagians by Augustine, 12.
 Augustine The Grace of Christ and Original Sin (trans. Roland J. Teske in Answer to the Pelagians [New York: New City Press, 1997]) II, 4.3.
 Kelly makes the claim (357) that Pelagius was a Welsh monk. In truth, it is not known whether he was really either. While most commentators agree that he was born on the British Isles, there are varying accounts that have him hailing from Ireland, England or Scotland. Also, while he was referred to as ‘monachus,’ it is uncertain if he was, in fact, a monk.
 Justo L. Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, vol. 1 (New York: HarperOne, 1984), 214.
 David Calhoun, Ancient & Medieval Church History, Lesson 16, page 2, © Summer 2007, David Calhoun & Covenant Theological Seminary [http://worldwidefreeresources.com/upload/CH310_T_16.pdf]
 J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrine, 2d ed. (New York: Harper and Row, 1960), 357.
 Evans (25) writes: “. . .[t]he course of events leading to Pelagius’ condemnation, in which Augustine played such a prominent role, is in fact an indirect result of the final phase of Jerome's Origenist controversies.”
 Rufinus, Apology (NPNF 2-03) II, 2.
 Evans, 17.
 Jerome, Letter to Ctesiphon (NPNF 2-06), CXXXIII.
Benjamin B. Warfield, Augustine and the Pelagian Controversy, in A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1905), 13.
 Evans, 85. Evans also notes (4) that Pelagius wrote On Nature largely “within the context of the conflict with Jerome…on the character of sin as a necessary aspect of human corporal existence.”
 Calhoun, 4.
 The doctrinal issues important to the Pelagian debate were actually argued around the premise of infant baptism and its necessity and efficacy. Space does not permit an exposition of the parties’ views regarding baptism (and infant baptism, in particular); however, the resultant theological conclusions of both positions may be understood to apply to all, including infants – baptized or not.
 Augustine, On Nature and Grace, xix, 21.
 Ferguson, 163.
 Ibid., 160.
 F. F. Bruce, The Spreading Flame: The Rise and Progress of Christianity from its First Beginnings to the Conversion of the English (Exeter: Paternoster, 1958), 336.
 Warfield, 54.
 Pelagius, Pro libero arbitrio, in Documents of the Christian Church, 3d ed., Henry Bettenson and Chris Maunder, ed. (Oxford University Press, 1999), 57.
 Kelly, 357.
 Kelly, 360
 Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, three volumes (Grand Rapids: Hendrickson, 2003 reprint), 3:255.
 Augustine, City of God (NPNF1-02), XXVIII.
 Augustine, On the Merits and Forgiveness of Sin (NPNF 1-05), IV.
 Augustine, On Admonition and Grace, in The Fathers of the Church vol. 2, trans. John Courtney Murray (New York: Fathers of the Church, Inc, 1947), 247.
 Augustine, On the Grace of Christ, VIII.
 Augustine, Grace of Christ, XXXVII.
 Philip Schaff, Excursus on Pelagianism, NPNF 2-14, 13.
 In 529, the Council of Orange affirmed an “anxiously guarded Augustinianism, a somewhat weakened Augustinianism, but yet a distinctive Augustinianism.” Warfield, 67.
 R. C. Sproul, book review (http://www.monergismbooks.com/Freedom-of-the-Will-p-16186.html).
 Cf. John 8:44; Romans 3:10, 23; Psalms 51:5, et al.
 Westminster Confession of Faith, IX.3.
 Jonathan Edwards, The Freedom of the Will, A. S. Kaufman, ed. (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merril Co., 1969), Part 1, Section 5 ff.
 Ferguson, 183.