Calling and Predestination: A Hebraic Understanding of Divine Invitation

Introduction

Few doctrines have generated as much debate — and confusion — as the question of whether salvation is chosen or called. For centuries, Christian theology has wrestled with the tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility, often through the lens of predestination. Yet, when viewed through the Hebraic framework in which Paul wrote, this tension takes on an entirely different character.

Paul’s language of “calling,” “election,” and “foreknowledge” does not emerge from the deterministic systems of later Western theology but from the covenantal thought-world of Judaism. In that world, God’s initiative always invites human partnership; His sovereignty does not negate our response but gives it meaning. Understanding this distinction transforms how we read passages like Ephesians 1 or Romans 8 — not as statements of fatalistic selection, but as declarations of God’s faithfulness to His redemptive plan.

This essay explores the difference between calling and predestination, showing how a proper Jewish understanding preserves both divine sovereignty and human freedom, grounding salvation not in inevitability, but in covenantal relationship.

Calling Verses Predestination

The distinction between calling and predestination is subtle but crucial, especially if we want to stay faithful to the Hebraic framework in which Paul thought and wrote. In Jewish thought, a calling (keri’ah, קריאה) is an invitation to partnership — not an arbitrary decree. When God calls Israel, He calls them into covenant, vocation, and relationship. It’s an offer that carries responsibility, not a mechanical fate.

“You shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” (Exodus 19:6)

This wasn’t forced upon Israel — they responded by saying, “We will do and we will hear.”
So calling presupposes response, not inevitability. The calling is divine; the participation is human.

When Paul exhorts the Ephesians to walk worthy of the calling, he is reminding them that they have been invited into a holy vocation — to manifest the unity of Jews and Gentiles as one new humanity in Messiah.

The Greek word klēsis (κλῆσις) means “invitation,” as to a banquet (cf. Matthew 22:14: “Many are called, but few are chosen”). It implies:

• a summons from God,

• and a decision to respond in faithfulness.

So, Paul’s use of “calling” is relational and ethical, not deterministic. He’s saying: Live up to the invitation you’ve already accepted.

Predestination, especially as interpreted in later Western theology (e.g., Augustine and Calvin), often implies a fixed, eternal decree determining salvation or damnation apart from human choice.

But in a Jewish and Pauline frame, “election” (bechirah) is corporate and vocational, not fatalistic.

• Israel was chosen for a purpose, not to the exclusion of others.

• Likewise, believers in Messiah are chosen to serve, to bless, to display the wisdom of God to the nations (Ephesians 3:10).

In this sense:

Election is unto function, not unto fate.
Calling is an invitation to participation, not a predetermination of outcome.

Paul’s exhortation presumes moral agency. If the calling were predestined in the deterministic sense, exhortation would be meaningless. He writes:

“Walk worthy…” — implying choice, discipline, and growth.

This fits seamlessly within the Jewish worldview of covenantal responsibility:

God initiates; humanity responds.
The relationship is covenantal, not mechanical.

Paul does acknowledge divine foreknowledge and grace (Ephesians 1:4–5), but this should be read not as a metaphysical blueprint but as the assurance of God’s intent and faithfulness — that His redemptive plan will not fail. It’s about the security of the covenant, not the automation of individuals.

So when Paul urges us to walk worthy of the calling, he’s saying:

“Live as people who have heard and accepted the divine invitation to reflect Messiah’s character in the world.”

It’s not about being chosen instead of others — it’s about living up to what you’ve been called to become.

Foreknowledge and Pre-Destination Explored

We have already established the foundational meaning of what it means to be “called” by God. From a proper Jewish perspective, this understanding prevents the common misinterpretation of calling or election as equivalent to predestined salvation. Furthermore, those who advocate for the doctrine of predestination often appeal to the concept of divine foreknowledge as evidence that individual salvation is predetermined. Even Christians who reject a strict doctrine of predestined salvation often repeat the idea that “God knows your choice before you do.” Yet few who make this claim take the time to examine what that statement truly means, or to consider it within its original Jewish context and understanding.

In much of later Christian thought, particularly under the influence of Augustine and later Calvin, passages like Ephesians 1:4–5 (“He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world… having predestined us to adoption as sons”) are read as God’s individual foreknowledge of who will be saved. That is:

• God knew before time began who would believe in Jesus,

• therefore, those individuals were chosen for salvation,

• and their salvation is irrevocably decreed by divine will.

This interpretation reads foreknowledge as foresight of individual choice, and predestination as divine decision regarding individuals’ eternal destiny.

But this is foreign to Paul’s Jewish worldview.

In Jewish theology, foreknowledge (yedi‘ah) is covenantal, not causal.

Foreknowledge does not mean God determines every human choice, but that God’s plan of redemption — His covenantal purposes — are known, fixed, and will be brought to fulfillment.

When the Tanakh says, “You only have I known of all the families of the earth” (Amos 3:2), it doesn’t mean God was unaware of other nations. It means He entered into intimate covenantal relationship with Israel.

So to foreknow is to forelove, to set apart in purpose — not to predict future decisions.

Paul, as a Jewish thinker, uses foreknowledge (prognōsis) in the same sense. God’s “knowing” is relational and purposeful — it speaks of God’s commitment to His people, not His clairvoyance of individual choices.

When Paul writes that God “chose us in Him before the foundation of the world,” he is not talking about you or me as isolated individuals being pre-selected for heaven. Paul is describing the corporate plan of redemption established before creation — that God would redeem humanity through the Messiah and in the Messiah.

In other words:

• The plan was foreknown, not the individual’s choice.

• The means of redemption (Messiah) was chosen, not the specific roster of who would believe.

• The goal (adoption, restoration, holiness) was foreordained, not a predestined elect few.

This aligns perfectly with the Hebrew mindset: God’s purposes are sure, His covenant stands, and His plan to redeem Israel and the nations through the Messiah will not fail. That’s the assurance Paul celebrates — the security of God’s promise, not the automation of human destiny.

Paul’s phrase, “He chose us in Him,” is crucial. The “choosing” happens in the Messiah, not in isolation. Anyone who enters that covenantal relationship by faith is now part of the elect community. The election is corporate and covenantal, not individualistic or exclusionary.

This means:

• God did not choose who would be in Messiah,

• but what kind of people those in Messiah would become — holy, blameless, and adopted children.
  Thus, the “predestination” Paul speaks of refers to the destiny of the covenant community, not a predetermination of who enters it.

So when Paul speaks of foreknowledge, he’s not revealing a divine spreadsheet of future believers. He’s giving comfort and confidence:

“God’s plan to redeem humanity through the Messiah was set before time began, and no power can overturn it.”

That’s the Jewish way of speaking about God’s sovereignty — faithfulness, not fate. His purposes are unstoppable, but our participation in them still requires faithful response.

In short, Paul’s idea of foreknowledge and predestination is not about who gets saved, but about how God saves — through the faithful unfolding of His redemptive plan in the Messiah.

It’s not about God knowing you will follow Him; it’s about God assuring that His plan to redeem and restore humanity through Israel’s Messiah will succeed.

Conclusion

Understanding Paul through a Jewish lens restores the warmth and relational depth of his theology. God’s calling is not a cosmic lottery, but a divine invitation. His foreknowledge is not cold omniscience, but covenantal faithfulness. His predestination is not fatalism, but assurance — the confidence that His redemptive purpose will stand, even when human faithfulness falters.

The calling of God, therefore, demands response, not resignation. It invites us to walk worthy of that calling — to live as participants in the unfolding story of redemption, not passive recipients of a fixed decree. When we recover this Hebraic vision, we rediscover a God who does not merely control history but partners with His people to bring about its redemption.