Many years ago, the apologist Greg Bahnsen said casually, “The key problem in all of life is autonomy.” John Frame, over a decade ago, wrote, “The spirit of autonomy underlies every sinful decision of every human being” (Doctrine of the Word of God, 15). And Richard B. Gaffin Jr. claimed in Word & Spirit, “human wholeness cannot be recaptured unless every vestige of autonomy is abandoned in submission to the Triune God of the Bible" (491). Gaffin’s long-time colleague, Vern Poythress, echoed that sentiment: “Much in the history of Western philosophy has been driven by underlying religious desire for autonomy” (Redeeming Philosophy, 238). These are profound statements about a big problem—the biggest problem: autonomy.

The biggest problems we have are so prevalent and pervasive that we’ve grown to unsee them. These sorts of problems love to hide, like centipedes under stones. They slink around in the dark as we walk on top of them. And yet they are thriving because we aren’t aware of them. Or, what’s more often the case, we don’t want to be aware of them. Let me explain what autonomy is, how it affects us, and how Christ responds to it.

What Is Autonomy? 

Autonomy is a construct of two Greek roots: autos (self) and nomos (law). Taken together, it means "self-law" or "self-governance." Poythress notes that autonomy "alleges that human beings are most free and most fulfilled when they are on their own, when they obey only the internal law of their own desires and dreams" (Making Sense of Man, 359). We look to the inside to determine what we do on the outside. Christopher Watkin notes that autonomy arises in Genesis 3, when Adam and Eve reject God's law (delivered through his word) and try to go their own way. He says, "In the context of Genesis 3, autonomy manifests itself as deciding for oneself what is to be counted as good and evil. It is not, of course, deciding for oneself what is good and evil, because God has already settled that question, and any new legislation that Adam and Eve pass down from their DIY parliament does not annul God's royal decrees" (Biblical Critical Theory, 133). Given that we all live in a God-governed world (and not a self-governed one), D. A. Carson described autonomy as the attempted "de-Godding of God." Autonomy is our futile effort to make ourselves lords when there is already a cosmic King.

In more popular language, autonomy is our continual decision to "go our own way." That decision is deeply problematic. As image bearers of God, Kelly Kapic calls us to "learn the value and truthfulness of our finitude, eventually getting to the point where we might even praise God for our limits" (You're Only Human, 11). "Going our own way" as finite and limited creatures doesn't bode well in a hostile world. We need to cherish and trust in how God made us and how he governs us. And one of the ways we can continually learn the value of our finitude is by relying on God's trustworthy revelation. We lean on God's revelation for everything. But when we act autonomously, we reject that basic truth. We refuse to acknowledge or submit to God's authoritative revelation, at our peril. In our hearts, we say, "I know better than God" or "What I want is worth more than what God wants." This never ends well.

Autonomy is our futile effort to make ourselves lords when there is already a cosmic King.

Cornelius Van Til and his disciples pointed out that humanity has often attached a human tool to the heart disease of autonomy, a tool that helps us limp through life under the illusion of self-sufficiency: reason. Reason is not a neutral faculty that we pick up and use at will, like a hammer or a fork. Reason always has a bearer whose heart is bent in some direction. We always reason as someone in rebellion against God or in faithful communion with him. But we do our very best to ignore this. We do all we can to suppress our heart's rebellion against the God who has given us every good gift (including reason). That's why Watkin writes, "It is hard to underestimate the extent to which many in our society today fail to consider what the Bible has to say about God on its own terms because that would require admitting that our own autonomous reason may not be the most reliable truth-discerning tool in the universe" (135).

There is no tool at our disposal that enables us to succeed in detaching ourselves from God. We rely on God's presence and his gifts for everything that we do. Though we constantly try, we cannot even think or reason in isolation from God. Or, as Vern Poythress has written, "If we are to have a foundation for human reasoning, that foundation must be found ultimately in God. God is absolute. He is not dependent on the world or on anything in the world. Neither is he dependent on us. We are dependent on him—thoroughly. That includes our reasoning" (Redeeming Reason, 15).

Summarizing our situation, Van Til wrote, "Reformed theology holds to the self-sufficiency of God without compromise. It therefore rejects every form of human autonomy" (A Christian Theory of Knowledge, 5).

What Autonomy Does

What does autonomy do to us? Many things, but one of the chief effects it has on us is to remove a word from our vocabulary, one of the most important words to humanity: help. The word "help" signals our God-given dependence and limitation. It's so very hard for us to utter that word in a sinful world because we want the illusion of self-governance, of self-sufficiency. Charlie Mackesy, in his book The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse, has a beautiful scene in which the boy asks the horse, "What's the bravest thing you've ever said?" The horse replies simply and powerfully: "Help." Autonomy is always sealing our lips when we need to say that word, because the spirit of autonomy tells us we can do things on our own.

If we refuse to admit our dependence and our need for help, we not only frustrate ourselves; we isolate ourselves. And isolation makes us easy targets for Satan and his servants. There is strength in communion with others as we rely on the body of Christ for support and encouragement. As Solomon said, "though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken" (Eccl. 4:12).

If we refuse to admit our dependence and our need for help, we not only frustrate ourselves; we isolate ourselves.

Autonomy pushes us to live in feigned independence from God. I say "feigned" because we can never truly live independently from the God who made, sustains, and upholds us. At best, we are pretenders, like children who are proud to wash their hands at the kitchen sink "all by themselves" even while their mother lifts them up to reach the spigot. We are always supported, always lifted up, always carried. The most we can do in rebellion is pretend we aren't. And it's an embarrassing game of make-believe.

How Autonomy Kills

But autonomy is far more serious than a game of make-believe. Autonomy ultimately leads to death. Life is found in communion with the God who gives himself to us. In Christ and by the Spirit, we enjoy fellowship with God for eternity. Though we may die a first death, we will not die the second death (Matt. 10:28; Rev. 20:6). We will enter into a loving embrace with God that has no end, in a garden-city where the very presence of God is our sunshine (Rev. 22:5).

The end of autonomy is dark isolation from the fellowship of God. Lasting and eternal death awaits anyone who says, "I'm fine on my own. I don't need help." Help and dependence are paths to salvation. Autonomy is a stairway to annihilation.

My favorite linguist, Kenneth Pike, sometimes used the words "autonomy" and "independence" interchangeably. He once wrote that autonomy means being cut off from everything that upholds and sustains our spiritual and physical existence. He linked autonomy to our desire to boast and trust in ourselves. In his words,

When a person boasts of himself, trusts in himself and turns away from trusting in God, he closes the gates to adequate sustenance and health from God. In other words, boasting leads to independence, and independence is the great sin because it leads to ruin. In the garden of Eden (Genesis 3:5) the serpent said to the woman, “You will be like God”—that is, independent. Why should a person not want to be independent? Because if a person succeeds in becoming independent, he dies. If the environment is removed, if the air is removed, if the water is removed, he cannot live. He has no sustenance within himself to last more than a fraction of a minute. (Pike, With Heart and Mind, 73)

Put more starkly in Pike’s words, “Isolation is the road to hell" (With Heart and Mind, 75). Autonomy is no mere child's play. It kills us. It removes us from the relationships that make us thrive. And, in the end, it sends us straight to hell. We need to abandon it totally and continually. I appreciate Poythress's directness here: "The Bible tells people to abandon the presupposition of autonomy, the idol of self, and the goal of self-fulfillment" (Making Sense of Man, 455). Yes. It's that simple.

Christ Defeats Autonomy

But given that we fail daily to submit to God's lordship, how does Christ save us from this by grace? How does Christ respond to the threat of autonomy? As usual, he responds with jaw-dropping faithfulness and tenacity to God's word. Perhaps one of the boldest invitations he received to live autonomously came from the devil himself. Right after Christ had been declared by his Father to be the beloved Son, we read this in Luke's Gospel:

And the devil took him up and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, and said to him, “To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been delivered to me, and I give it to whom I will. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” And Jesus answered him, “It is written, '‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve'" (Luke 4:5-8).

Satan is offering Jesus the chance to wear the crown without carrying the cross. Christ knew it was the will of God for him to suffer at the hands of sinners, to die a gruesome death, and to rise on the third day. Satan is saying, "You don't have to follow the plan of God. Go your own way. Take this road instead: no suffering, but all the glory." And Jesus responds with the faithfulness we all should have. He affirms his reliance on God, his relational commitment to the one who always keeps his promises. Satan offered Jesus the chance to choose autonomy and avoid a horrendous amount of suffering. Jesus said, in essence, "No. I will depend on my Heavenly Father. I will serve him, not myself."

If autonomy leads to isolation and annihilation, dependence on God always leads to vitality.

And he followed through. He relied on the plan of God to the very end: to torture and death. But also to resurrection. New life was the light at the end of a tunnel of dependence. If autonomy leads to isolation and annihilation, dependence on God always leads to vitality. Jesus is the one whose dependence on God made him the "life-giving Spirit" (1 Cor. 15:45). It's in Spirit-wrought dependence on him that we find our salvation.

Application

This all may sound too theologically heavy for easy application. But it's not. Whenever you ask for help, from God or from another person, you are fighting against autonomy. So, do you ask for help? Where are there opportunities in your life for you to admit your limitations and your need for relationships? Start with asking for help from God in his word. And then go there, prayerfully, to seek the good treasures he has for you. You will always find an invitation in Scripture to a relationship with the God of holy love, a God who will hold you up.

From there, search your heart and your habits. It's easy to find places where you pride yourself on independence. Notice what happens in those contexts when you ask for help. Your ego might diminish, but your relationships will thrive. One of the reasons why is that asking for help builds up someone else. It gives another person the chance to be a puzzle piece.

Ask for help. And know that the resurrected Christ is interceding for you, right now, before your heavenly Father. In Christ and by his Spirit, we will find more help than we can imagine. And it's likely that this help will come from those God has already ordained to offer it.

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Learn more about limitations in I Am a Human