“God is not double-minded. He can decree one thing and desire another, because He has layers of purposes.” 0 — John Piper
Many Christians wrestle with a tension in Scripture. On one hand, it says that God “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim 2:4) and that God is “not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Pet 3:9). Yet elsewhere, the Bible clearly teaches that not all will be saved, and that God elects some but not all unto salvation (Rom 9:11–13; Eph 1:4–5).
How can this be? How can God will that all be saved, and yet also will that only some are? Is He contradicting Himself?
Several reformed interpretations try to resolve this. Some say “all” in 1 Timothy 2:4 contextually refers to all kinds of people—Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, kings and civilians—not every individual. Others note that in 2 Peter 3:9, the pronoun “any” refers back to the preceding plural “you”, indicating that God’s will is expressed towards the epistle’s audience, who presumably “have obtained faith” (1:1).
While these are perhaps viable reformed solutions to these texts, there are many other texts apparently advocating a free offer of the Gospel to all people (Isa 55:1, Mt 11:28, Jn 3:16) and the command for all people to repent (Lk 24:47, Acts 2:38, 17:30). Perhaps there is another — more biblically comprehensive — answer: God has more than one kind of will. He has a prescriptive will and a decretive will. His prescriptive will is what He commands and delights in. His decretive will is what He sovereignly brings about for the greatest good. His prescriptive will is what He plainly reveals. His decretive will is what He does not always reveal. Moses speaks of this duality in Deuteronomy 29:29:
The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.
A Real-Life Example of “Two Wills”
Imagine a gymnastics coach teaching a young athlete a technically demanding move—perhaps a back handspring on the balance beam. The coach gives detailed instructions: body alignment, timing, hand placement, landing form. The command is precise, serious, and expected to be followed.
But the coach knows the gymnast won’t execute it correctly at first. Not because the command was unclear or the standard wasn’t real—but because the gymnast’s current ability, coordination, and muscle memory aren’t yet developed enough. In fact, the coach anticipates failure—not out of cruelty, but because that failure becomes the most effective feedback. The moment of deviation from the command becomes the teaching moment.
If the gymnast were perfect—say, if she had unprecedented control—the coach would genuinely want her to get it right the first time. But because the coach knows her student’s nature, the higher intention is to use her inevitable error as a mirror: “Did you feel how your hips opened too early?” or “You landed too narrow because your shoulders were too tight.” The correction flows from the failure. The student learns not only from being told the command, but from deviating from it and experiencing what happens when she does.
So the command was genuine. The expectation of compliance was real. But the deeper aim was not perfection on attempt one—it was growth through guided failure. The coach wanted obedience, but knowing her student’s nature, she wanted disobedience (in the form of natural immaturity) as a path to a higher end (learning). In the terms introduced, it would be described as the following:
- The prescriptive will is: “Do the back hand spring using these techniques.”
- The decretive will is: “When she fails, I will use it for a better purpose of correcting her.”
Said another way, the prescriptive will is what we want, but the decretive will is what we want even more. This isn’t hypocrisy — it’s layered purpose. We live with this kind of duality all the time. In positive ways, we might want to rest, but want to keep a promise to a friend even more, so we show up for them. Or we may want to keep our money, but want to help someone in need even more, so we give generously. In negative ways, as Paul describes in Romans 7, we sometimes “do the very thing we do not want.” In those moments, we wanted that sinful action more than we wanted to do the right thing — for example, lashing out in anger because the urge to express frustration outweighed the desire to be patient. Scripture presents God acting with this same kind of layered will, both prescribing what is good and ordaining what fulfills His ultimate purposes.
Biblical Examples: One Word, Two Purposes
This dual-will concept isn’t a theological invention — it’s biblical. Consider Psalm 40:8:
“I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.”
Here, “your will” and “your law” are parallel — likely synonyms. God’s rāṣôn (Hebrew for will, desire, or pleasure) refers to His prescriptive will: the moral commands He delights in, such as obedience to His law.
Now compare this with Isaiah 53:10:
“Yet it was the will (rāṣôn) of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief…”
The same word — rāṣôn — is used to describe God’s pleasure or will in crushing the Righteous Servant (Jesus). But Jesus was executed through actions that violated the prescribed will — rāṣôn — of Psalm 40:8, including unlawful trials, false witnesses, and unjust crucifixion. So, God willed what He did not will — not in contradiction, but in layered intention:
- He commanded righteousness (prescriptive will).
- He ordained the cross through human sin (decretive will) for a greater good.
Peter affirms this in Acts 2:23:
“This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.”
The same event was both a sin and part of God’s plan.
We see the same principle in Genesis 50:20, when Joseph says to his brothers, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” Their intentions were wicked – all violations of God’s prescribed will, including lying, hating, coveting, and dishonoring their parents. God’s intention, on the other hand, was redemptive — “…that many people should be kept alive”. Different motives, same action — one humanly evil, the other divinely purposeful. In perfectly anticipating and permitting the actions flowing from their natures, God is in no way the immediate cause. The actors are solely responsible for their sin. The Westminster Confession clearly articulated this concept:
God, from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely, and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass: yet so, as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures; nor is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established. ⁵
WCF 3.1
Paul captures this tension well in Romans 9:17–22, where he demonstrates that Pharaoh’s rebellion violated God’s commands (prescriptive will), yet fulfilled God’s deeper purpose to display His power and to make His name known to His vessels of mercy (decretive will). This latter purpose coincided with God’s perfect anticipation (not causation) of the response of Pharaoh’s sinful nature to the present stimulus; a nature that God did not create (James 1:13-17).
Bringing it Back Around: God’s will in 1 Timothy 2:4 and 2 Peter 3:9
Let’s return to the two passages that often raise questions about God’s will for salvation: 1 Timothy 2:4 and 2 Peter 3:9.
Paul says in 1 Timothy 2:4 that God “desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” Likewise, Peter writes in 2 Peter 3:9 that God is “not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” At first glance, these statements seem to contradict the doctrine of election or particular redemption.
But within the framework of God’s two wills, these tensions are not contradictions. These verses express God’s prescriptive will—His revealed desire and command that people repent, believe, and be saved. Yet, as we’ve seen through both Old and New Testament examples, God may sovereignly (and passively) ordain events—including resistance to His commands—for a greater purpose. Just as God desired Pharaoh to obey and yet ordained his hardening to display glory to the vessels of mercy, so too He may desire repentance from all and yet sovereignly choose to grant saving grace to some (Romans 9:18).
This does not make God disingenuous, any more than it made Him unjust in the case of Pharaoh. Rather, it reveals the complexity of His holy will—at once commanding sinners to repent, while also working all things, including their rebellion, according to the counsel of His will (see Ephesians 1:11).
Pot Calling the Kettle Black: The Contradiction in Opposing Systems
When we examine non-Calvinist systems—whether Arminian, Molinist, or other synergistic frameworks—we find a similar duality at play, albeit under different terminology. These traditions affirm that God genuinely desires all to be saved (prescriptive will), yet they also concede that He permits many to perish because He values a higher principle—typically human libertarian freedom or the authenticity of love freely chosen. Thus, God’s decretive will in these systems still includes a sovereign decision to allow rejection of the Gospel, even when the evidence is clear and the offer sincere. The result is that God’s will to save is subordinated to another divine priority, such as non-coercion or relational integrity. In this light, the tension between God’s desire and the outcome remains; it is simply resolved by appealing to a different governing principle. Ironically, this means that the non-Calvinist must also affirm that God wills something higher than universal salvation—whether it be the preservation of free will, the possibility of genuine love, or the moral structure of human responsibility. The difference, then, is not whether God’s will is complex, but which aspect of His character is allowed to govern that complexity.
The Two-fold Will of God and the Scope of the Atonement
The distinction between God’s prescriptive and decretive will clarifies how Scripture can affirm both a universal desire for salvation (e.g., 1 Tim. 2:4) and a particular application of redemption. This framework also informs the Reformed understanding of the atonement’s scope.
Hypothetical Universalism and Dort
At the Synod of Dort (1618–1619), several delegates—including those from Bremen and Nassau—affirmed a form of hypothetical universalism: that Christ’s death was sufficient for all and offered to all, though efficacious only for the elect.¹ This view was not condemned and remained within the bounds of Reformed orthodoxy.
John Davenant and Samuel Ward, English delegates, also held that Christ died for all conditionally, with saving grace applied only to the elect. Davenant later defended this in De Morte Christi, emphasizing that the limitation lies in God’s intent, not in the sufficiency of the atonement.²
Amyraut’s Alignment with Dort
Moïse Amyraut, a French theologian, developed this view further, teaching that God prescriptively wills all to be saved and that Christ’s death was offered universally. However, only the elect receive the grace to believe.³ Amyraut argued his position was consistent with Dort’s theology, and French synods repeatedly acquitted him of heterodoxy.⁴
The Flexibility of Westminster
The Westminster Confession of Faith affirms both the universal offer of the gospel (10.2) and the particular application of redemption (8.5). While the offer (sometimes expressed as a command to repent) represents God’s prescriptive will, the true limitation of the atonement lies in God’s decretive will: He effectually pursues the elect, while the non-elect receive only common grace—a lesser form of divine favor (which I would argue is tied to the atonement but without full salvific intent).⁵
Conclusion: A Beautiful Mystery, Not a Contradiction
Rather than being a contradiction, God’s two wills reveal His depth and wisdom. He truly calls all to repent. He genuinely delights in righteousness. Yet He also governs the world with an eternal plan that uses even sin and rebellion for ultimate good.
We cannot fully grasp all His purposes — but we can trust that God is good. As Charles Spurgeon once said:
“The will of the Lord is not the will of disappointment, but the will of purpose… He has a will that never fails.”
Let us proclaim all His truth — not only what He commands, but what He accomplishes.
Footnotes
0. John Piper, Does God Desire All to Be Saved?, Desiring God, 2013. Available at Desiring God’s website
1. Richard A. Muller, Calvin and the Reformed Tradition (Baker Academic, 2012), pp. 63–66.
2. John Davenant, A Dissertation on the Death of Christ, trans. Josiah Allport (London: Hamilton, Adams, 1832).
3. Moïse Amyraut, Brief Traitté de la Predestination, in Les Œuvres Théologiques, ed. André Gounelle (Champion, 2004).
4. Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, Vol. 1 (Harper & Brothers, 1877), pp. 521–523.
5. Westminster Confession of Faith, Chs. 3 & 8 & 10; cf. Robert Letham, The Westminster Assembly (P&R Publishing, 2009), pp. 273–278.
The Middle Ground 