by Lee Strobel
“His miracles were a sign of the inbreaking of the kingdom—or the rule—of God,” he replied. “They were a taste of the future, when healing will be complete. Jesus said, ‘But if I drive out demons by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.’7 These signs were a prelude to the entire restoration, when God will make a new heaven and a new earth. They remind us that a day is coming when there will be no more suffering or pain.”
“And they show us something about God’s character,” I offered.
“Yes, very much so. They show us his power, but also his benevolence and compassion.”
In the end, there is no question that reports of supernatural feats by Jesus are inextricably woven into the narrative of his life, even going back to the very earliest sources. Jesus scholars Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz write, “Just as the kingdom of God stands at the center of Jesus’ preaching, so healings and exorcisms form the center of his activity.”8
But were these actual miracles, or simply apparent miracles? Was Jesus truly tapping into the supernatural, or was he duping gullible and unsophisticated first-century audiences? Just because miracles are reported in an ancient text doesn’t necessarily make them true. After all, how can modern, rational people believe that a first-century Nazarene can circumvent nature?
“Belief in miracles is unjustified,” scoffed Larry Shapiro, professor of philosophy at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, in his book The Miracle Myth. “No one has ever had or currently has good reasons for believing in miracles. The reasons people give for believing in miracles . . . are bad.”9
David Hume couldn’t have said it better.
Presuppositions and Circular Reasoning
Michael Shermer is not alone in considering Hume’s case against miracles to be “a knockdown argument.” Atheists and agnostics routinely cite Hume when they argue against the possibility of genuine miracles. In fact, Hume scholars point out that modern arguments against the miraculous are often restatements or reformulations of Hume’s original treatise.10 Clearly, it’s hard to overstate his influence in the controversy over the supernatural.
But is Hume’s reputation warranted? Are his arguments as airtight as skeptics believe they are? I couldn’t help but smile as I broached this subject with Keener. “If I could summarize what you’ve written about Hume,” I said, “it would be this: you’re not a fan.”
Keener let out a laugh. “Well, let’s be honest: his arguments against miracles are based on presuppositions and circular reasoning,” he said. “Even in his day, he was criticized for recycling old arguments that deists had made against Christianity, without considering the critiques that had already been leveled against them.”
“Give me an example of how he used circular reasoning,” I said.
Keener thought for a moment. Then he said, “Hume defines miracle as a violation of natural law, and he defines natural law as being principles that cannot be violated. So he’s ruling out the possibility of miracles at the outset. He’s assuming that which he’s already stated he will prove—which is circular reasoning. In fact, it’s an anti-supernatural bias, not a cogent philosophical argument.”
“Is he wrong to call miracles a violation of the laws of nature?” I asked.
“Today we understand laws as describing the normal pattern of nature, not prescribing them. In other words . . .” He turned in his chair to get a ballpoint pen from his desk, holding it up for me to see. “If I drop this pen, the law of gravity tells me it will fall to the floor. But if I were to reach in and grab the pen in midair, I wouldn’t be violating the law of gravity; I would merely be intervening. And certainly if God exists, he would have the ability to intervene in the world that he himself created.”
Keener tossed the pen back on his desk and turned to face me again. “Hume simply rejects any evidence that contradicts his thesis,” he continued. “To him, miracles as violations of nature are more incredible than eyewitnesses are trustworthy, so no evidence can prove persuasive for miracles. In other words, it’s fruitless to investigate miracle claims, because no matter how strong your evidence, it cannot prevail. Yes, he does set forth criteria for good evidence, but the bar of proof is set so high that nothing can reach it.”
With that, Keener recounted a story about Hume and the influential French scientist and mathematician Blaise Pascal.
“Pascal’s niece, Marguerite Perrier, suffered from a severe and long-term fistula in her eye that let out a repulsive odor. At a monastery on March 24, 1656, she was completely healed in a dramatic way, with even bone deterioration vanishing immediately. There was medical and eyewitness evidence; the diocese verified the healing. Even the royal physicians examined her, and the queen herself declared it a healing. In the following months, eighty other miracle claims followed. So here you have miracles that were recent, public, and attested by many witnesses and even physicians—all of which met Hume’s criteria for evidence. But ultimately he dismissed all of this as irrelevant.”
“Why?”
“On the grounds that miracles simply aren’t possible because they violate nature. Now, that’s a classic case of circular reasoning.”
What’s more, Hume felt free to scoff at the entire report about Pascal’s niece because these were Jansenists, members of a controversial sect that both Protestants and traditional Catholics opposed.
I asked, “What about Hume’s claim that the uniform experience of humankind is that miracles don’t happen?”
“That’s an assertion, not an argument. What he’s saying is, ‘Miracles violate the principle that miracles never happen.’11 Again, notice how circular that is. In addition, his criteria for evaluating miracles are too vague and even contradictory. For instance, he would require any witnesses to be of unquestioned good sense, but then he appears to question the good sense of anyone who claims to have witnessed a miracle.
“Granted, Hume never personally experienced a miracle. But based on that, he extrapolates that the uniform experience of humankind is that miracles don’t occur. That’s totally unreasonable, especially today, when we’ve got so many compelling eyewitness reports of miraculous events.”
I spoke up. “According to the national survey I commissioned, more than 94 million adults in the US would say they’ve had an experience that they can only explain as a miracle from God. Globally, that number, based on other surveys, is in the hundreds of millions.”
Keener nodded. “That’s right.”
“But,” I cautioned, “that doesn’t necessarily mean they were real miracles.”
“That’s true, and maybe the vast majority are coincidences or anomalies or mistakes or fraud or the placebo effect, or whatever. Certainly those things happen and we need to concede that. But can all cases be explained that way?”
He shook his head. “That simply defies reason—and ignores the evidence.”
Emperor Hume Has No Clothes
I took a few moments to flip back through my notes for a quick review of what Keener had said so far. Then I commented, “With all the weaknesses in Hume’s arguments, it’s hard to see how he is still so frequently quoted by skeptics today.”
“I agree. Critics have been pointing out the glaring problems with Hume’s work ever since he wrote it, and today those critiques are even stronger. Some are downright brutal. A lot of philosophers from various backgrounds are finally declaring that Emperor Hume has no clothes.”
Among them is prominent science philosopher John Earman, whose scathing critique, published by Oxford University Press, is titled Hume’s Abject Failure. His devastating introduction reads:
It is not simply that Hume’s essay does not achieve its goals, but that his goals are ambiguous and confused. Most of Hume’s considerations are unoriginal, warmed over versions of arguments that are found in the writings of predecessors and contemporaries. And the parts of “Of Miracles” that set Hume apart do not stand up to scrutiny. Worse still, the essay reveals the weakness and the poverty of Hume’s own ac
count of induction and probabilistic reasoning. And to cap it all off, the essay represents the kind of overreaching that gives philosophy a bad name.12
What was really behind Hume’s screed against miracles? Earman is convinced he was motivated by his animus against organized religion, “which Hume saw as composed of superstitions that have had almost uniformly baneful effects for mankind.” He said Hume was driven by a “strong desire to strike a toppling blow against one of the main pillars” of faith, leading him to “claim more than he could deliver.”13
Incidentally, because of his blistering critique of Hume, some people have questioned whether Earman has a “hidden agenda” of Christian apologetics. He said that although he appreciates much in the Judeo-Christian heritage, he nevertheless finds “nothing attractive, either intellectually or emotionally, in the theological doctrines of Christianity.”14 As one reviewer noted, “His aim is to sketch an epistemology that allows for both the possibility of miracles and a healthy skepticism toward miracle claims—twin goals that many theists also embrace.”15
David Johnson, who earned his doctorate in philosophy at Princeton University and is a professor at Yeshiva University, agreed that Hume’s arguments on miracles are “entirely without merit.”16 In his book, published by Cornell University Press, he said, “The view that there is in Hume’s essay . . . any argument or reply or objection that is even superficially good, much less, powerful or devastating, is simply a philosophical myth.”17
Philosopher and theologian Keith Ward, now retired from his professorship at Oxford University, called Hume’s arguments on miracles “exceptionally poor” and said they are only acceptable to those who are “impressed by his general philosophical acuteness—an acuteness that does not carry over into his remarks on miracles.”18
Ouch.
Extraordinary Claims, Extraordinary Evidence
I gestured toward Keener. “If Hume’s approach doesn’t work, then how do you think people should look at claims of miracles?” I asked.
Keener leaned forward in his chair. “I think we should look at the evidence with a healthy dose of skepticism but also with an open mind,” he began. “Are there eyewitnesses? When we have multiple, independent, and reliable witnesses, this increases the probability that their testimony is accurate. Do the witnesses have a reputation for honesty? Do they have something to gain or lose? Did they have a good opportunity to observe what occurred? Is there corroboration? Are there any medical records? What were the precise circumstances and timing of the event? Are there alternative naturalistic explanations for what happened?”
I pointed out that atheist scientist Jerry Coyne said “massive, well-documented, and either replicated or independently corroborated evidence from multiple and reliable sources” would be needed to have confidence in a miracle.19
“Replicable?” Keener replied. “Miracles are one-offs. They are part of history, which can’t be repeated. How could we test whether a person was brought back from the dead—shoot him and try again? I don’t think so,” he said, chuckling. “But aside from that, we do have plenty of cases that meet the standard Coyne is talking about.”
“What’s the appropriate burden of proof?” I asked. “Many skeptics say extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”20
“The question is how to define an ambiguous term like extraordinary. Skeptics often set the bar infinitely high. I think we need sufficient and credible evidence, which varies in each case. The standard needs to be reasonable so we’re not too credulous but so we don’t rule out things at the beginning.”
“What standard do you suggest?”
“In civil law, the standard is ‘more probable than not.’ That’s also the standard most historians apply in their work. So I think this is an appropriate benchmark to apply when evaluating miracle claims. Ultimately, of course, people are going to look at events through their own interpretive grid.”
“In other words, this really is a worldview issue, isn’t it?” I said.
“Certainly. If you give miracles a zero chance of ever occurring, as Hume did, then you’re not going to find any. But if you keep an open mind and follow the evidence wherever it leads—well, it might take you to unexpected places.”
Pen in hand, I turned to a blank page of my notebook. That’s exactly where I wanted to go next.
CHAPTER 6
A Tide of Miracles
A physician picked up Craig Keener’s two-volume book on miracles with one goal in mind: to reinforce his highly skeptical worldview.
“I was ready to ‘see through’ yet another theologian who didn’t know much about psychosomatic illnesses, temporary improvements with no long-term follow-up, incorrect medical diagnoses, conversion disorders, faked cures, self-deception, and the like,” he said.
But he admitted, “I was blindsided.”
After plowing through the philosophical chapters, he came across the thousands of case studies that form the core of Keener’s book—reports of extraordinary healings and other incredible events backed up by eyewitnesses and, in many cases, clear-cut corroborating evidence.
“I read them with the critical eye of a skeptic having many years of medical practice under the belt,” the doctor said.
Many reports weren’t sufficiently documented to convince him. In other instances, he could envision alternative, naturalistic explanations to account for what happened.
But not in all cases. “Not by a long shot,” he said. “I found [hundreds of case studies] to be stunning. They couldn’t just be dismissed with a knowing answer and a cheery wave of the hand. With respect to my worldview, I had had the chair pulled out from underneath me.”1
Such is the persuasive power of the evidence for many miraculous claims. It’s even enough to win over, well, Keener himself.
A Hermeneutic of Suspicion
“When I was an atheist, of course I didn’t believe the miraculous was possible,” Keener told me. “But even after I came to faith, I still retained quite a bit of skepticism. As a Christian, I believed in miracles in principle, but I have to admit I doubted the veracity of many claims I would hear.”
“Your work as a historian probably influenced you in that regard,” I suggested.
“Yes, we’re taught to think critically, to demand convincing sources, and almost to use a hermeneutic of suspicion. Academics often take the attitude, ‘Doubt all that you can, and then if anything is left at the end, you may accept it—but only tentatively.’”
“There can be a professional risk to investigating this topic, right?”
“No doubt. When I embarked on this project, I was concerned about being labeled a bad scholar because I chose to examine and document these cases. Frankly, it’s safer for academics to stay stymied in their skepticism rather than to seek after the truth.”
My mind flashed to a professor I had interviewed at a highly respected public university. He told me in detail how he had been incredibly healed of a brain tumor after praying to Jesus. But he wouldn’t allow me to publish his story. Why? “I’m up for tenure,” he said. “I’m afraid my colleagues would skewer me.”
Nevertheless, Keener told me he “tried to maintain intellectual honesty” in his research and to “follow the clues wherever they led.” And where did those clues take him?
“Everywhere I looked, I came across miracle claims that better fit a supernatural explanation than a naturalistic conclusion. Pretty soon, there was a tidal wave of examples.”
“Such as?”
“Such as . . . ,” he repeated, eager to take up the challenge. Keener mentally scrolled through examples from the case studies he had encountered, and he began speaking in a tone that was at once urgent and earnest.
“Cataracts and goiters—instantly and visibly healed,” he said. “Paralytics suddenly able to walk. Multiple sclerosis radically cured. Broken bones suddenly mended. Hearing for the deaf. Sight for the blind. Voices restored. Burns disappearing. Massive hemorrhaging stopped. Failing kidneys cu
red. Rheumatoid arthritis and osteoporosis—gone. Life given back to the dead, even after several hours.
“I have accounts from around the world—China, Mozambique, the Philippines, Nigeria, Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, Ecuador, Indonesia, South Korea, and other countries. Multiple and independent eyewitnesses with reputations for integrity, including physicians. Names, dates, medical documentation in many cases. There’s even a peer-reviewed scientific study confirming the healing of the deaf.
“And the timing is usually the most dramatic element—instantaneous results right after prayers to Jesus. Lots of cancer healings too—malignant brain tumors and reticulum-cell sarcoma, for example—but I didn’t include most of those in the book, since I knew people would write them off as spontaneous remissions. Still, when the remission happens so quickly and completely after specific prayers, that’s very suspicious.”
“And your conclusion from all of this is—what?”
“That apart from some sort of divine intervention, many of these phenomena seem inexplicable. In other words, a lot of these cases better fit a supernatural explanation than a natural one.”
I asked, “What was the turning point for you?”
His answer turned out to be a very personal one indeed.
The Healing of Thérèse
For years, Keener had heard vague stories about his wife’s older sister, Thérèse Magnouha, who had been—what? Revived? Resuscitated? Raised from the dead? It wasn’t until Keener flew to Africa and trekked through Congo-Brazzaville that he found out firsthand from eyewitnesses what had actually occurred. It was the family connection that gave this experience an especially profound meaning for him.
“How old was Thérèse when this happened?” I asked.
“She was two. One day her mother went out for a short time to take some food to a neighbor. When she returned, Thérèse was crying—she had been bitten by a snake. Her mother strapped the child to her back so she could run for help, but she quickly discovered that the child had stopped breathing.”