Not even a little bit?
Via On Being a Theologian of the Cross, pp. 56-58
Thesis 15. Nor could free will remain in a state of innocence, much less do good, in an active capacity, but only in its passive capacity.
Although it may appear to be an obscure point, thesis 15 indicates clearly the kind of move a theologian of the cross will make when looking at the nature of our existence. The attempt to argue for at least a little bit of freedom in order to maintain human fault for the fall and sin is the telltale sign of the theologian of glory at work. Here that theology takes the form of claiming that at least before the fall Adam had the active capacity to persevere in the state of innocence. But is such a claim sufficient to maintain human responsibility and guilt? The questions tend eventually to rebound on God. Why could not God have given Adam the active capacity not only to stand in the state of innocence but also to progress toward the good? The problem, of course, is that if such an active capacity is ascribed to Adam before the fall, we run head-on into he claims that must also be made on behalf of grace. So the theologian of glory backs off and modestly claims just enough capacity in free will to make one guilty but not enough to do anything toward salvation. The assumption remains always the same. The way of works is the way of salvation. One needs help even before the fall, but more so afterward.
…
The cross spells the end of all such moves. Before the fall the creature lives by faith, trusting that creation is good and bending all effort toward taking care of it. The creature has only a passive capacity for the good, not an active one. That is, the creature is never meant to stand or operate alone but to be one through whom the creator works. The creature is turned about to take care of creation, to seek the good of the other, not of the self. To fall is precisely to be captivated, bound, seduced, and blinded by another vision, another hope, that of the active capacity of free will and its works. Responsibility for sin is never firmly established by such a scheme because we are blind to the original sin, the sin of independence from God, the sin of unfaithfulness parading as piety. True, we may confess to certain sins thereby but not to SIN. The sins we confess to in such cases are only peccadilloes, misdeeds, and failings according to the letter of the law–mostly the second table. They are, of course, serious enough, the source of guilt and anguish but more or less evident. When it comes to SIN, however, we have a deeper problem. As subsequent theses, particularly 19 and 20, will indicate,we are blind. It takes the cross to shock us, so to speak, into seeing. Only when that occurs will we begin to take responsibility for SIN.
