and misery will follow as the natural[31] results of our actions
here, man will require a certain amount of knowledge concerning
this judgment. By the possession of conscience and other religious
faculties, man holds a definite relation towards God. Plainly the most
tremendous results may follow from this relation, and man ought to have
some sure knowledge of these results. Now it is conceivably possible
that God might have given us this knowledge by means of the light of
nature, as we call it. But He has not. Confessedly natural religion
is neither clear enough nor certain enough to affect powerfully the
masses. Man is not a quiet, orderly, neutral sort of being; he bears
about with him a nature fraught and fully charged with the most
dangerous passions. Reason, with its prudential maxims, has never done
much to restrain these passions. To take, then, the lowest possible
ground. As nature has given us moral qualities, I suppose that moral
excellence is a thing as necessarily to be attained to as physical
and mental excellence. But while nature has provided ample means for
attaining to the two last, she will not, without a revelation, have
provided sufficient means for the attainment of the first. By the aid
of religion, about as many men probably attain to moral excellence, as
by other natural means attain to physical and mental excellence.[32]
Without religion nature will have broken down. You would have
universally a state of things like that in ancient Greece--one Plato,
surrounded by the mass leading the most grossly sensual life.
Nature cannot develop any being higher than herself, nor endow it with
wants which she cannot supply. If nature develops intellect, morality,
religion, then that power which developed these faculties must also be
intellectual, moral, religious. What, then, can this power in nature be
but the working of God? Out of nothing comes nothing. The effect cannot
be greater than the cause. The existence of man, with his mental,
moral, and religious powers, forbids us to believe that that which
caused man to exist can be less possessed of these powers than he is.
Infinitely higher he may be, lower he cannot be. And as surely as man's
physical and mental wants are provided for by that power which called
these wants into being, so surely will man's moral and religious wants
be supplied.
They are not supplied by the light of nature; nothing then remains but
revelation. Into the formal proof of revelation I must not enter; all
that devolved upon me was to show the _à priori_ probability, or at
least possibility, of a revelation. I have endeavoured to show this
by a consideration of what man is, viewed simply as a natural being,
and by the consideration of his natural wants. I have not taken into
consideration any of the additional knowledge given us in the Bible
concerning man. I have treated him in much the same way as I might
one of the creatures in the Zoological Gardens, if I had been asked
to study it in order that I might see what its wants were, and tell
the keeper what to give it to maintain it in the full possession
of its powers. No doubt it would have helped me if I had been told
what and where the creature had been before. I should then have had
no difficulty in explaining and accounting for everything. Such
knowledge, however, even revelation does not give us, because it is not
indispensable. It gives us that only which is necessary for the supply
of our wants.
Even with this knowledge my argument is not concerned; but certain
general principles about revelation follow from what I have laid
down. And first, revelation has nothing to do with our physical state.
Reason is quite sufficient to teach us all those sanitary laws by
which our bodies will be maintained in healthful vigour. If the Bible
condemns drunkenness, gluttony, and the like, it does so not for
sanitary reasons, but for moral reasons, because they are sins. So
revelation has nothing to do with our mental powers; whatever we can
attain to by our mental powers we are to attain to by them. Physical
and metaphysical science alike lie remote from the object-matter of
revelation. Because God has, in the Bible, given us revelation in an
informal way, in order, perhaps, to commend it to our entire nature,
people often forget that its proper object-matter is simply the moral
relation in which man stands to God, especially with reference to a
future state of being. Religious men forget this. They often take up
an antagonistic position to science, and try to make out systems of
geology and astronomy and anthropology from the Bible and by these
judge all that scientific men say. Really the Bible never gives us
any scientific knowledge in a scientific way. If it did, it would
be leaving its own proper domain. When it does seem to give us any
such knowledge, as in the first chapter of Genesis, there is a very
important differentia about it. What it says has always reference to
man. The first chapter of Genesis does not tell us how the earth was
formed absolutely; geology ought to tell us that. It tells us how it
was prepared and fitted for man. Look at the work of the fourth day.
Does any man suppose that the stars were set in the expanse of heaven
absolutely that men might know what time of year it was? But that
is their special service, and in old time a most important service
for man. To the geologist man is just as much and just as little as
a trilobite or a megatherium. To the student of the Bible man is
everything, and the first chapter of Genesis teaches him that man was
the cause of all other terrestrial creation, the sum and crown of the
Creator's work.[180]
But if believers mix up science and revelation, so do the students of
physical science. No sooner is a theory started, than it is immediately
compared with what the Bible says, or is supposed to say. Now, no
doubt, the comparison between the teachings of revelation and science
is inevitable. Whatever is mixed up with revelation, owing to the
manner in which God has been pleased to bestow it, must, at least, be
true. It would be impossible for us to accept the authority of the
Bible upon those points in which we cannot judge of its truth, if in
those points in which we are competent judges we found it erroneous.
The teachings, therefore, of science and of revelation must be
compared; but in this comparison not only must we remember that it is
not the object of the Bible to teach science, and that, as it speaks
to all people at all times, it must use popular language, but also
that the comparison must be made, not with the floating theories of
the hour, but only with established truths. If the wisest geologist
of our days could show that there was an exact agreement between
geology and the Bible, it would rather disprove than prove its truth.
For, as geology is a growing science, it would prove the agreement
of the Bible with that which is receiving daily additions, and is
constantly undergoing modification, and ten years hence the two would
be at hopeless variance. At the same time there is a good side to the
discussion, and the theologian especially is the gainer. In the present
day the attack upon revelation draws its weapons from our increased
knowledge of physical science, of philology, and of history, and the
theologian can no longer neglect these studies. I have no scruple
in saying that I look with pride upon what my countrymen have done,
and are doing, in enlarging the bounds of our scientific knowledge,
even if I do not always approve of their spirit, or accept their
conclusions; and I am quite sure theologians must study, intelligently
and dispassionately, all those branches of knowledge which are brought
into contact with revelation, or they will lose their influence over
the intellect of the country. It is no use treating physical science
as a bugbear. Let our theologians master it, and they will find it a
manly study, which will give their minds breadth, will teach them what
are the difficulties which press heavily on many thoughtful minds, and
which must be fairly met. An opposition between an old science like
theology and new sciences there must be: but let both sides remember
that revelation was never intended to teach us anything that we could
learn by the use of our natural faculties, and that what the Bible
teaches must be compared not with floating and probable theories, but
with proved theories. These proved theories will, I believe, fall into
their place in due course of time, as easily as Galileo's theory about
the revolution of the earth round the sun. If not, I do not see how
the claims of the Bible to be the Word of God can be maintained: for I
cannot believe that there is any chasm between the teachings of God in
nature and in revelation. But I think it perfectly possible that men
may misinterpret and misunderstand both one and the other.
I have detained you too long. But I must make one more remark. If the
proper object matter of revelation is that knowledge, which being
necessary for us as moral agents, was yet unattainable by our natural
powers, then reason is no judge of what revelation teaches. There
may be in our relations to God, things which we never should have
expected: deep truths opening onwards into mysteries past our present
finite comprehension. If everything had been plain, easy, commonplace,
revelation would not have been needed. Nevertheless, reason holds a
very high office with respect to revelation. In a matter of so high
consequence, as whether God has spoken to us or not, we are bound to
examine most scrupulously the evidence upon which the fact of the
revelation rests. And this examination involves an enquiry into the
teachings of revelation. The existence of mysteries in a revelation is
reasonable: the existence of immorality in it would be fatal to its
claims. For if the scientific basis for my belief in the gift of a
revelation is the existence in me of conscience, and of moral faculties
which make me a responsible being, I am left absolutely without a basis
for a revelation which makes me violate my conscience. A revelation
which degrades my moral and spiritual powers is as much against nature
as anything that degraded my physical or mental powers. If religion be
true, it must ennoble, elevate, purify, and perfect me, here as far as
the present condition of my existence permits, entirely in that other
state to which our present responsibility points, provided, of course,
that I submit myself to its teachings. I know of no way by which I
can make this examination except by reason and experience. And I hold
this further, because I hold that a true religion must be commensurate
with the whole of man. It must make him better physically, mentally,
morally, and spiritually, and consecrate all his powers to God.
I am only too well aware that much which I have said has been put in
a feeble and confused manner. Much also necessary for the support and
elucidation of the argument had to be omitted because of the necessity
of compressing it into so short an essay; but I trust that the main
line of thought is clear, namely, that religion outside of us stands in
so plain a relation to what we are internally, that either it is real,
or this whole state of things is a delusion. Man, without a revelation,
and therefore without religion, is the only one thing of all that exist
upon the face of the earth that is a bungle,[33] a failure, and a
mistake.
THE
NATURE AND VALUE
OF THE
MIRACULOUS TESTIMONY TO CHRISTIANITY.
BY
JOHN STOUGHTON, D.D.,
KENSINGTON.
MIRACLES.
One of the most touching narratives in the New Testament relates to a
want of faith in miracles. It is said that when Thomas was told of his
Master's resurrection, he replied, "Except I shall see in His hands
the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails,
and thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe." He was not
denounced for this. No word of withering scorn, or cutting ridicule,
or threatening anger, fell on the ear of the doubting disciple. But
evidence was offered. "Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands;
and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side; and be not
faithless, but believing." As far as rebuke appeared, it was only by
implication, in words respecting those whose faith is of keener eye,
and swifter foot: "Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have
believed."
I think that every one who speaks of miracles to doubting minds should
from this narrative take a lesson. Surely the gist and purpose of
it is, that we should distinguish between intellectual difficulty
and moral prejudice, and deal patiently and convincingly with honest
seekers after truth. Sometimes the subject before us has been so
handled as to drive the unbeliever into deeper unbelieving--I would
rather strive to work upon a little faith, and make it more.
I.
I am to speak to you respecting the _nature_ of the miraculous
testimony to Christianity. My business is with mighty works, recorded
in the New Testament as having been wrought for the purpose of
testifying to a Divine mission. No definition of their character in
relation to physical law can anywhere be found in this ancient record.
They are not spoken of as _violations_ of law, or as _suspensions_
of law, or as _interferences_ with law, or as _contradictions_ to
law. They are described, not on the side of their physical nature,
but on the side of their moral signification. They are depicted, not
in their connection with the obvious order of the material universe,
or with any hidden powers and principles of a higher and harmonious
description; but in their connection with Him who claimed to be the
Redeemer of mankind, who came, according to His own words, to seek and
save that which was lost. They are denominated "_wonders_," startling
occurrences, things contrary to common experience; and "_signs_,"--not
mere marvels bursting idly on the public gaze, and exciting in a
multitude of spectators a barren curiosity, but _signs_,--replete with
an ulterior meaning, and testifying to the character and work of Him
through whom they were accomplished.
There is no necessity, then, for us at the outset to define a miracle
on the physical side of it--to call it a violation of law, or a
suspension of law--an interference with it, or a contradiction to it.
In other words, there is no need imposed by the conditions of our
argument, to inquire into the mode in which such a phenomenon can be
produced. It is enough to show that it did occur, and to dwell upon the
religious significancy of its occurrence first to the witnesses, and
next to ourselves. What is the exact position which miracles may be
thought to occupy as wonders in the universe, whether, through breaking
in upon common experience, they are referable to the operation of
occult laws, known and controlled at a fitting moment by the mysterious
touch of the wonder-worker; or whether they are to be considered as
resulting simply from the immediate fiat of the Supreme will, are
questions which may with advantage be relegated for consideration
elsewhere.
1. But, at the very threshold of our inquiry we are met by the
assertion, that a miracle, however defined, is in itself simply
impossible. Impossible! In what sense impossible? Does it mean
impossible to man, or impossible to God? Impossible to man, of course,
it is. That impossibility enters into the popular idea of a miracle.
Man has no such control over nature as to be able to produce one. But
if it be said a miracle is impossible to God, such an impossibility
involves the extension of human inability to God Himself. It involves
either the idea, that nature has ever been independent of God, or
the idea, that if produced by Him, He is no longer Lord of His
own works--this Lordship having been surrendered by His will, or
having escaped from His hands. Summarily disposing of this gross
anthropomorphism, we find behind it the dogma of Spinoza, that there
is nothing transcendental anywhere, no transcendental beginnings, no
transcendental interpositions; for God and nature are one through the
eternities. In the wake of Spinoza's philosophy follows the modern
axiom--"to recognise the impossibility even of any two material atoms
subsisting together without a determinate relation--of any action of
the one on the other, whether of equilibrium or of motion, without
reference to a physical cause--of any modification whatsoever in the
existing conditions of material agents, _unless through the invariable
operation of a series of eternally impressed consequences, following in
some necessary chain of orderly connexion_."[34]
Here, _in limine_, before examining this principle, let me observe,
once for all, that miracles do by no means cast any slur upon the
settled order of nature, as if it were faulty and imperfect, and
required correction or supplement for effectuating its proper ends--as
frail constructions in engineering departments of human contrivance
need subsequent repairs. Nature is perfect enough for her own ends;
miracles are introduced for other and higher purposes. This requires to
be borne in mind throughout our entire discussion.
But to come to the antagonist principle, that there is a development
in nature through the agency of physical laws, apart from an original
Creator and an everlasting Lord. I do not say--far from it--that the
principle denies the existence of such a Creator and Lord, but it
supposes at least that the physical order of the universe is fixed in
such a sense, as to have ever excluded from it the action, directly
or indirectly, of a Divine will, beyond the inflexible maintenance of
ordinary operations. It is said, "The enlarged critical and inductive
study of the natural world cannot but tend powerfully to evince the
inconceivableness of imagined interruptions of natural order, or
supposed suspensions of the laws of matter, and of that vast series
of dependent causation which constitutes the legitimate field for the
investigation of science, whose constancy is the sole warrant for its
generalization." In reply to this it may be fairly urged that science,
whilst she maintains the invariable sequence of causes and effects,
and the uninterrupted order of physical events, is a prophetess of
truth and wisdom. She enunciates lessons bound up with the welfare of
the race. Thus far there is no antagonism between her and religion.
She can, without abandonment of her principles, nay, in the act of
carrying them out, officiate as a priestess at the altar of God; nor
is there anything in the position for which she stipulates contrary to
the claims of Revelation. For Revelation, in appealing to miracles,
supposes the ordinary course of physical phenomena to be inviolable,
and no book more than the Bible exhibits the normal constancy of
natural agencies. But when science pronounces as impossible all such
signs and wonders as are recorded in Scripture, she steps out of her
province. In her own province she may justly affirm there are no signs
of miracles; she may sweep her telescope over the fields of the sky,
and ply her microscope amidst the growths of the earth, and say, I can
see no traces anywhere but of inflexible law. These realms of existence
are full of order. It is the perfection of their beauty, that they are
free from violations, suspensions, disturbances, and interferences.
But to say this--and I fully concur in it--is not to demonstrate that
the Scriptures relate impossibilities. To do so, philosophy must pass
beyond the range of physical observation, since _there_ no place can
be found for working out the desired demonstration. Philosophers do
not always remember how difficult it is to prove a negative. Showing
that certain things are, they are apt to slide into a belief that
_therefore_ certain other things cannot be, the conclusion proving on
logical examination a simple _non sequitur_. Doubtless it is a fact,
that we can detect nowhere in nature a provision made for producing
miracles such as come under our review in this lecture, that no
prophecy nor hint of them can be discerned throughout her measured
realms; but this is a very different thing from saying, that nature
teaches the belief of them to be absurd. So far from its being absurd,
there may, after all, be found in nature something analogous to a
miracle. In nature there are distinct worlds, worlds between which
there are gaps and gulfs. I do not dispute that there are striking
approximations in the phenomena of some realms to the phenomena of
others; but there are also broad deep spaces, here and there, never
bridged over by the discoveries of science. Hence, "an animal," as you
have been told already, in the words of Hegel, "is a miracle for the
vegetable world." It is a new creation in some way, and a new creation
in any way is a miracle. After wandering amongst rocks, we find in
plants a new world. Organized life is so; so also, compared with
animal instinct, is the mind of man, with its spiritual reason, and its
moral consciousness.
Not only do Coleridge, Kant, and Plato regard man's highest faculty as
essentially different from the mere adaptive understanding of an animal
nature; but what is still more remarkable, Aristotle himself, whose
turn of mind was so different from theirs, differentiates man from
other creatures on the ground of his being endowed with the faculty of
reason. In his work on the Generation of Animals, he says that there
is no resource except to believe, that the reason has no affinity with
the material elements out of which the human embryo is formed, but that
it comes from without, and that it alone, of all the component parts
of man, is divine.[35] Thus, in the opinion of one of the greatest
philosophers the world has ever known, the line of demarcation between
man and all lower creatures is broad and clear, a line which in the
simple order and development of nature they could never cross. The
superior attributes of humanity, according to him, come _from without_;
here, then, amongst the component parts of humanity is something
divine. In other words, we have a new world; a new creation. I do not
say there is a strict parallel between any new race or species in
nature and the occurrence of individual miracles on rare occasions,
but I do say that there is enough of resemblance between these two
descriptions of change to exempt a believer in both of them from the
charge of being absurd.
Furthermore, there are in human minds varieties of power of an
astonishing description: although there be faculties common to all
men, the vigour of those faculties in some cases is such as perfectly
to eclipse the vigour of them in others. The superiority of individual
minds, whose works have filled the world with wonder, is such as to
leave behind, at an unapproachable distance, the ordinary measure
of human endowment. Certain intellects (I need not name them) have
long exercised a formative power upon the civilized portions of our
race. They have been as crystals inserted in a solution, and other
crystals have received shape from them. Whence have come these typical
energies in the intellectual world? No law of development will account
for a resplendent genius now and then flashing on the world; for the
appearance of a master mind, after humanity has kept on a low level
through generation after generation; for the ascent again of gifted
spirits into the highest heaven of invention, after another lapse into
mere mediocrity. No known laws of causality account for such facts
in the realms of intellectual existence. If, in the case of man, as
compared with other animals, the difference, as Aristotle says, is
something which comes _from without_, the same may be said with respect
to the difference between ordinary mortals and William Shakespere or
John Milton. There is forced upon us the conviction, that these stars
which dwell apart are kindled by fires burning in superhuman spheres.
I do not say, in this case, any more than in the others I have cited,
that we find an exact parallel to a miracle; but I do maintain, that
we discover here a kind of inspiration which, like the miraculous,
transcends all known laws, and brings to mind what was said by the
first of those just named:
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."