If we deny grace, the impetus to be and do good, then we sin. The source of sin, like grace, is a mystery. When presented with a moral decision, a decision that has good or bad outcomes, how free are we to choose? In the presence of a decision to do good or bad, human are 1) free to choose, neither being influenced by grace or evil (Pelagius), 2) not free, but propelled to evil (Augustine), and 3) not free, but overpowered by grace (Rahner).
St. Augustine’s response to Pelagius’ doctrine that humans freely choose evil, says, human beings do not ever enjoy a condition of pure indifference in the exercise of freedom. Rather the corruption of human nature by sin entails a predisposition to evil, a bias toward it, which precedes and forms choice.
Rahner argues that the indwelling grace inherent in our nature is the stronger force. For Rahner, original sin is a reality, but it is never equal to the lure of transcendence. Original grace, Rahner believes, is more powerful. The theologies seem to contradict, but I believe all three can be synthesized.
There are three moments that Augustine must explain: What is human nature before the Fall, during the Fall, and subsequent to the Fall? He explains two. Augustine tells us that human nature changed as a result of the Fall, was corrupted by it, and is now inclined to sin. But what was the nature during the Fall? It seems to me that human nature must have been open to sin before and during the Fall.
While Rahner’s theology of grace does not depend on a change in human nature, it does stipulate that we are less free to sin than the doctrines of either Pelagius or Augustine. A sinful act, according to Rahner, is all the more culpable because we are not completely free to sin, but must, in the first moment, overcome the overpowering “supernatural existential” impelling us to do good. Having rejected grace, we are now at Pelagius’s free-to-choose location, and then, in the second moment, we choose to sin. Rahner would have us struggle to sin, whereas Augustine has us struggle to be good. Pelagius says it is an even bet.
I am more inclined to the Catholic, Lutheran, Augustinian, and Pauline formulations of grace than the Rahnerian. But the self-referential bias of existentialism may offer a way to synthesize these doctrines. Perhaps Rahner’s “supernatural existential” was, at the time of his exposition on grace, actualized such that he felt grace as propelling him to do good at all times. St. Paul call himself the “chief of sinners” (1 Timothy 1:16). Augustine confessed himself as a past prolific sinner. Historians note Luther as an overly scrupulous sinner. I am still a pilgrim, a befuddled, but hopeful, sinner. We claim grace to be an equal potential in all of us. But in actualizing, experiencing our potential, Paul, Augsutine and I are not as far along as Pelagius, who, himself, falls short of Rahner. We all admit to the power of grace, agree as to its incidence, but differ in our experience of its power.