The Most Misused Word in Arminian Theology

If there’s one word in Scripture that has become the hinge of how people think about salvation, it’s the word all.

This little word has been asked to carry far more weight than it should. A quick look at how it’s used in the original Greek and Hebrew clears things up. But once you see it for what it really means, your whole view of salvation has to shift.

Arminianism leans on an idea called prevenient grace to hold up its reading of “all.” If “all” truly meant every single person without exception, then maybe the idea would have a case. But even then it would collapse against everything else the Bible says about election.

The truth is simple: context and language make it plain. All doesn’t always mean every individual. And once you see that, prevenient grace has no ground left to stand on.

A Flexible Word

There are plenty of places in Scripture where “all” is clearly limited by context.

Mark tells us that “all Judea and Jerusalem” went out to John the Baptist. That didn’t mean every single person showed up at the Jordan. Paul says, “all things are lawful,” but he obviously isn’t including sin. In Joshua we read that “all Israel stoned him,” but it’s describing the nation acting together, not every man, woman, and child picking up a rock.

“All” is a flexible word in Scripture. It bends with the context. It cannot be treated as a universal, one-size-fits-all word.

What the Languages Show

The original languages make this even clearer.

In Greek, the word pas can mean every individual, as in “every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down.” It can mean all kinds, as when Jesus healed “every disease and every affliction among the people.” Not every disease in the world, but every kind represented. And it can mean the whole of something, as when “the whole city” was stirred at His arrival. Not every single person, but the city in general.

In Hebrew, the word kol works the same way. It can be truly universal, as in “all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the LORD.” It can also be representative, as in “all Israel stoned him,” meaning the nation corporately carried out judgment.

So in both Greek and Hebrew, “all” is a flex word. Sometimes universal, sometimes representative, sometimes whole. You cannot build a doctrine like prevenient grace on the assumption that “all” always means every person without exception.

Context Decides

The meaning of “all” doesn’t float in the air. It’s nailed down by the sentence, the paragraph, and the flow of thought.

Jesus speaks of every tree that bears no fruit, that’s individual. He heals every disease in the crowd, that’s categories. Jerusalem is stirred up at His coming, that’s a figure of speech for general uproar. When Scripture says “all Israel stoned him,” it’s corporate responsibility, not literal participation by each citizen. When the promise is that all the earth will be filled with the Lord’s glory, that’s truly universal.

Words are defined by where they sit. Arminian theology goes wrong when it always picks the biggest possible meaning of “all,” even when the passage doesn’t allow it.

The Word “World”

The same principle applies to the word world.

In John’s Gospel, “world” doesn’t usually mean every individual. More often it means the fallen order in rebellion against God. John says, “the world did not know him,” and “the world hates you.” Humanity in rebellion. A system opposed to Christ.

So when we read John 3:16, “For God so loved the world…” the point isn’t that God loves every individual equally or that prevenient grace covers every person. The point is how God loved: He gave His Son. His saving purpose is bigger than Israel, stretching into the nations.

And “whoever believes” doesn’t mean every person has the same chance. It means all who believe, everyone in that believing class. And in John’s Gospel, those who believe are precisely those the Father gives to the Son, the ones the Son raises up. The scope is global, but the effect is particular.

Drawn by the Father

In John 6 the same tension shows up again.

The crowd presses Jesus for another sign: “Then what sign do you do, that we may see and believe you?” (v. 30). They had just watched Him feed five thousand, but their demand for more clearly shows the issue isn’t evidence.

Jesus doesn’t give them another miracle. He points to the real problem: “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (v. 44). The barrier isn’t proof, it’s the inability of the human heart. Signs don’t create faith. Only the Father’s drawing does.

And He presses even further: “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out” (v. 37). Hear the certainty. All that the Father gives will come. Not might. Not could, if only prevenient grace does its part. They will come. And once they come, they are His forever. If salvation rested on our autonomy, it could be lost as quickly as it was gained.

The weight of salvation doesn’t hang on a universal grace stretched thin across humanity. It rests on the Father’s effectual drawing and keeping.

Prevenient Grace or Common Grace

Arminian theology leans on prevenient grace, the idea that God gives every person a universal grace that restores their will just enough so they can choose Christ if they want to. It’s built on their reading of “all.” But Scripture never teaches this kind of grace. And in the end, it becomes a grace that saves no one. It only makes salvation possible.

The Bible does speak of a grace given to all humanity, but it’s not prevenient grace. It’s common grace. This is God’s kindness poured out on the world: restraining sin, sustaining life, sending rain and sun, filling hearts with thankfulness. Matthew 5:45 says, “For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” Common grace preserves, but it doesn’t regenerate. It blesses, but it doesn’t save.

Saving grace belongs only to those the Father draws. Again, Jesus said it plainly: “All that the Father gives me will come to me” (John 6:37). Not all without exception, but all who are given. And those who come are kept forever.

Why It Matters

This shapes how we understand the gospel. The Arminian reading of “all” turns grace into a vague possibility. The biblical reading of “all,” taken in context, shows God’s sovereign power to actually save His people.

Common grace is real, but it’s not saving grace. The gospel is not that God gives everyone an equal shot. The gospel is that God actually rescues His people through a grace that cannot fail.

And if Christ’s death truly covered the sins of every individual without exception, then no one would face judgment. The very fact that God still punishes sin shows us the cross was never meant as a blanket atonement, but a saving work for those the Father has given to the Son.