Often in theology there has been an ongoing battle between what God could do and what God did do. When someone says, "Couldn't God...?" The answer is: "Yes, of course. But He hasn't done what He could do; He has actually done what is best for us." Those, such as Duns Scotus, who are interested in touting what God could do have been called "voluntarists," that is, that God is able by an act of His will (voluntas) to count the world righteous in His sight without the countervailing weight of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ hefted in the balance against human sin. Is He able? Yes. So what? That's not what He did. What He actually did is far more important than all the "coulda, woulda, shoulda" in the world.

Voluntarism separates the believer from God's gracious work in Christ and calls into question the value of the personal fellowship which He desires to have with us humans. If God just sat in heaven and willed the world to be made right without His intimate involvement, then much would be lost; both for us and for Him. A rich man anonymously gave large sums of money to support the work of an urban homeless shelter, but that didn't seem to him to be doing enough. So he also went to the shelter to clean and serve meals to the needy one day a month. As he reflected on his habits of giving and service it was quite clear to him that he was much more completely fulfilled by working in the shelter than by offering financial support. He had a relationship with those who needed him. He learned the names of those who sought refuge from the mean streets. He saw the sacrifices made by staff and other volunteers to carry of the mission of caring for people in need. His personal service meant that he knew what he was about. He knew intimately the needs of the people he helped with service and money. He found that he cared personally for those whom he helped personally and those whom he helped knew it.

The Arians argued that God could will the world to be made righteous apart from His personal involvement through the incarnation of His Son. They were early "voluntarists." The first reply of Athanasius to this contention is just, "He could have. But he didn't." What God actually does is the best for us, no matter what we might think is better according to our lights. If the Arians were correct and Christ is not fully God, and God chose to speak us right without the incarnation, it becomes a kind of salvation by high altitude drone. It is hardly personal. It is not fellowship. A high altitude drone can wreak destruction, but it cannot bring help.

Unfortunately, we humans often think we know better than God what would be good for God to do, but it won't necessarily be better for us if God takes our advice. Our God is not like the inattentive father who is too busy to go to his son's little league games, but buys the boy all the best in baseball equipment and sponsors uniforms for the team thinking this makes up for his absence. We don't have an absentee God. He is personally and intimately involved in our situation. He puts on the uniform of our flesh and gives us Himself in His body and blood by real presence.