PDA

View Full Version : Hume's Miracle Prison: How They Got Out Alive


thedrifter
12-24-06, 06:46 AM
December 24, 2006
Hume's Miracle Prison: How They Got Out Alive
By James Arlandson

One of the great geniuses of the Enlightenment was David Hume (1711-1776). In his essay on miracles (Section X) in his book Enquiries concerning Human Understanding, he doubts that miracles have ever occurred and even can occur.


Hume's short analysis shakes believers (for our purposes those who believe in miracles) and theists (for our purposes those who believe that God exists and acts in his creation). But skeptics (those who say that miracles do not or even cannot happen) gladly accept Hume's verdict.

However, do Hume's arguments stand up under close scrutiny? Can we exclude miracles as a priori impossible (a priori means before investigation)? That is, should we reject miracles outright? But what if miracles can be investigated with modern technology? Do they happen today?

This article has a modest goal. It aims to keep the door to miracles open, even after Hume's assault on them. It uses the metaphor of prison and the legal system to illustrate their escape into the modern skeptical world. They seem to be in hiding, but sometimes they peek out and show themselves today.

What is a miracle prison?

In Part II of Hume's discussion of miracles in Section X, he is in the process of answering the question of whether miracles do or even can occur. Is there even one criterion that any reasonable person can use to affirm their occurrence? Apparently not, for two major reasons. Bulleted examples follow each reason.

(1) No witness for the defense is reliable enough.

No man, not even many, can be of "such unquestioned good sense, education, and learning" or can be of "such undoubted integrity" or of "such credit and reputation in the eyes of mankind" that they can convince skeptics that the witnesses for miracles are not deluded or do not have "any design to deceive others" or are not exempt from self-interest and shame of being detected in promoting miracles (pp. 116-17).
When the spirit of religion joins itself to the love of miracles, therefore, people of religion naturally or have a propensity to believe such things (p. 117).
"A religionist may be an enthusiast, and imagine he sees what has no reality" (p. 117).
An eloquent speaker may manipulate the masses (p. 11 .
Barbarous peoples in an unenlightened and bygone age produce the reports of miracles. But as we enter the civilizations of more enlightened peoples in recent times, the miracles, not surprisingly, dry up (pp. 119-21).
(2) No testimony is strong enough.

Countless testimonies of forged miracles produce suspicion against all miracles; they also demonstrate how gullible people are (pp. 118-19; 125-27)
Hume recounts "one of the best attested miracles in all profane [secular] history." The Emperor Vespasian healed a blind man and a lame man, as reported by Tacitus, whom Hume praises as reliable. But after all the confirmation of the miracles, "no evidence can well be supposed stronger for so gross and palpable falsehood" (pp. 122-23).
Testimonies about the Cardinal de Retz also fall into the same categorical doubt. He seems to have witnessed the result of a miracle, but later thought better of it because even well-attested, strong evidence "carried falsehood upon the very face of it, and that a miracle, supported by human testimony, was more properly a subject of derision than of argument" (pp. 123-24).
At the tomb of the Abbé of Paris alleged miracles were produced and confirmed by "judges of unquestioned integrity and attested by witnesses of credit and distinction, in a learned age." Hume goes on to build a theoretically strong case for the miracles, but none of this is sufficient or even supportive of belief in them (pp. 124-25).
Hume offers a hypothetical. Let us imagine that Queen Elizabeth died on January 1, 1600. "All historians" (Hume's words) who specialize in English history agree on her time of death. She was seen by her physicians and courtiers before and after her death. She was interred (buried) a month. But then, lo! "She again appeared, resumed her throne, and governed England for three years." Would Hume believe this testimony of her death and then reappearance? Not in the slightest. (p. 12
Why is Hume so skeptical? Witnesses for the defense and their testimonies are not good or strong enough, but compared to what? Simple. All miracles violate our firm and unalterable experience that establishes the laws of nature.

A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined. (p. 114)

A miracle may be accurately defined [as] a transgression of a law of nature by a particular volition of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisible agent. (p. 115, note 1, emphasis original)
Thus, no person, even if he has the utmost integrity and honesty, can overturn by his testimony the laws of nature established by firm and unalterable experience.

Hume uses, as it were, a two-sided scale, like the scales of justice on the outside of the Supreme Court building. On one side he places our firm and unalterable experience with the laws of nature; on the other he places the reliable testimony for miracles. The first side is always heavier or wins the contest. This is why he could establish the witnesses and testimonies (in the bulleted lists) with such confidence, proclaiming their veracity. But firm and unalterable experience establishing the laws of nature must by the very nature of the case always outweigh the testimonial evidence for miracles. "A wise man, therefore, proportions his belief to the evidence" (p. 110).

[And it is a general maxim (principle) worthy of our attention] that "no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavors to establish". . . (pp. 115-16)

But what have we to oppose to such a cloud of witnesses [to the miracles at the tomb of the Abbé of Paris], but the absolute impossibility or miraculous nature of the events, which they relate? And this surely, in the eyes of all reasonable people, will alone be regarded as sufficient refutation. (p. 125, emphasis added)

Upon the whole, then, it appears that no testimony for any kind of miracle has ever amounted to a probability, much less a proof. (p. 127)

And therefore we may establish it as a maxim [principle] that no human testimony can have such a force as to prove a miracle, and make it a just foundation for any such system of religion. (p. 127)
As for the hypothetical death and reappearance of Queen Elizabeth in 1600 (she actually died in 1603), Hume would still not believe the testimonies, despite the events being observed by learned and trusted men who testify to her death and burial for one month:

All this might astonish me; but I would still reply that the knavery and folly of men are such common phenomena that I should rather believe the most extraordinary events to arise from their concurrence than admit of so signal a violation of the laws of nature. (p. 12
Apparently, the (hypothetical) learned and wise historians, physicians and courtiers, who witnessed everything with their own eyes (Elizabeth's death, burial, and reappearance), turn into fools and knaves, according to Hume. What a "miraculous" reversal for such reliable and impeccable witnesses. Apparently, their shocking, quick-change falsehood is not "more miraculous than the fact which it endeavors to establish."

Thus, miracles are locked up in Hume's prison, though they are innocent. Under his ironclad presuppositions, they cannot get out even on parole for good behavior. This is unjust.

See Craig, pp. 130-32, for the idea of the scale that Hume seems to have in mind.

No way out?

However, Hume's stacked deck against miracles begs the question or goes in circles. This fallacy means that the answer to a question is found in the premises or in the front end of the investigation. We assume the answer before we inquire into it. His super-high definition of a miracle does this (it violates the laws of nature established by firm and unalterable experience). He is trying to determine whether miracles can occur, but he slams shut the prison doors on them before they can make their appeal, not to mention while they were on trial.

The words firm and especially unalterable are the crux of the fallacy. How do we know that miracles cannot occur? Because they "violate" or "transgress" the laws of nature that are established by firm and unalterable experience. But why cannot our experience with the laws of nature be "violated" on occasion? Because that would be a miracle. And they don't happen because of our firm and unalterable experience establishes the laws of nature.

Next, Hume's definition of a miracle is so stringent that no historical or empirical investigation will possibly argue the case for miracles. To repeat the circular argument, why are no multiple honest and reliable testimonies in favor of miracles acceptable? Because the laws of nature are firmly and unalterably established by experience. The testimonies are ipso facto less accurate and less probable, no matter what. Therefore, no testimonies whatsoever for the defense will open the prison doors, because they are permanently locked in advance, no key existing to open them.

C. S. Lewis describes the circularity:

Now we must agree with Hume that if there is absolutely "uniform experience" against miracles, if in other words they have never happened, why then they never have. Unfortunately we know the experience against them to be uniform only if we know that all the reports of them are false. And we can know all the reports to be false only if we know already that miracles have never occurred. In fact we are arguing in a circle. (pp. 132-33)
However, miracles are matters of perception and therefore investigable. They exist, if they do, in the realm of matters of fact. To laugh out of court all exonerating testimonies, regardless of how strong and reliable they are, is prejudicial. Miracles do not get a fair hearing; they never did get a fair trial. They got a bum rap in Hume's court, and now in his prison.

The circular reasoning keeps going round and round, in favor of skeptics.

Minimum security prison?

It is possible that scholars would suggest that I am not being fair to Hume here. It is not clear that he is begging the question. If he simply claims that since the evidence for the laws of nature is always greater than the evidence for a miracle, and since the two bodies of evidence inevitably conflict, then we are never justified in accepting reports of miracles.

Norman L. Geisler refers to Hume's "softer" argument that focuses on the (un)believability of reports about miracles, not their (im)possibility. The evidence for the rare event-or singular event-is weaker than the evidence for the regular event, so the wise person believes in the regular event ("Miracles and the Modern Mind," p. 75). We also cite the argument by Benjamin F. Armstrong to defuse the accusation of unfairness to Hume. To continue our prison motif, miracles are in a minimum security prison, but they still cannot escape.

(1) Hume speaks of "uniform experience" against miracles. Thus, he either still begs the question or he engages in special pleading. Geisler writes:

It begs the question if Hume presumes to know the whole field of experience to be uniform in advance of looking at the evidence for uniformity. For how can one know that all possible experience will confirm naturalism [which says nature is all there is], unless one has access to all possible experiences, including those in the future? (p. 76).
Then Geisler explains how Hume engages in special pleading, which is a fallacy that ignores unfavorable evidence. But Geisler counters: "If, on the other hand, Hume simply means by ‘uniform' experience the select experiences of some persons . . . then this is special pleading. For there are others who claim to have experienced miracles" (p. 76).

In addition, after explaining modern Humeans and then quoting Hume himself ("No means of detection remain save those which must be drawn from the very testimony itself of the reporters"), Armstrong says:

Hume's argument, then, appears to be either question-begging or superfluous. If the laws of nature are needed to rule out (past) miracle reports, then these laws may not be used, for nothing will have rendered the reports "non-data" with respect to the laws. If the laws may be used to rule out the reported events, then it will only be because something else has already ruled out these events. The verdict against Flew [a modern Humean who seeks to strengthen Hume's arguments] (and others) is that it is question-begging. ("Hume on Miracles," p. 327)
Armstrong continues:

...The fact that we/some use various nomologicals [law-like generalizations often of nature], whether drawn from science, conventional wisdom, or elsewhere, does not preclude an investigation of these nomologicals. Such an investigation of the nomologicals that Hume would wield against resurrections in no way challenges our ordinary practices. Rather such an investigation may simply show us the limits of what can be provided by our ordinary practices. The limits on our practices may be such that there simply is no particular stock of nomologicals that has epistemic primacy to rule out resurrections in the way attempted by the Humean argument. (p. 327)
In short, Armstrong says in these two excerpts that to investigate reliable reports on miracles fairly, which (allegedly) take place in the realm of perceptions, no one can escape the charge of begging the question, if one uses the laws to preclude those reliably reported miracles. After our investigation, it may be the case that "there is no particular stock of nomologicals" that completely enjoy "epistemic primacy" to rule out miracles or resurrections, to use Armstrong's example. (Epistemic pertains to knowledge or knowing.)

Armstrong is right, for the key is to investigate and then to formulate laws accordingly. Can we say absolutely that a miracle cannot happen? Sometimes reports, especially in the Age of Science, confirmed by CT scans and even videos, may be so reliable that to shut them out leads to prejudice and obscurantism. How much evidence would it take if a CT scan and the oncologist's own eyes detected cancer, but immediately after prayer the cancer vanished? It is absurd to rule something out that actually happened, no matter how rare.

(2) Geisler says that Hume adds up the evidence against miracles, instead of weighing it in favor of them. But Geisler disagrees: "Rational beliefs should not, however, be determined by majority vote. Hume seems to commit a kind of consensus gentium fallacy, an informal fallacy arguing that something should be believed to be true simply because it is believed by most people." (p. 79). Further, sometimes the exceedingly rare event happens. For example, a perfect bridge hand has been dealt, though the odds against it are 1,635,013,559,600 to 1.

Sometimes the "odds" against an event are high (based on past observation), but the evidence for the event is otherwise very good (based on current observation or reliable testimony). Hume's argument confuses quantity of evidence with the quality of evidence. Evidence must be weighed, not added. (p. 79, emphasis original)
(3) Hume proves too much. If a miracle really happens, then should we disbelieve it, regardless of whether the evidence is overwhelming? Geisler explains:

For [Hume's] argument does not hold that miracles have not occurred but only that we should not believe they have occurred simply because the evidence for the regular is always greater than that for the rare. But on this logic, if a miracle did occur-rare as it may be-one should still not believe it. It is patently absurd, however, to claim that an event should be disbelieved, even if it has occurred, that is, when the evidence is overwhelming that the purported miracle has occurred. (p. 80)
Geisler is right, as noted in our analysis of Armstrong's argument (see the first point in this section). The key is to investigate them without prejudice, in case the evidence shows overwhelmingly that an extremely rare event has indeed happened. Geisler goes on to relate two more arguments against Hume's softer version (or minimum security prison), which seemed at first glance to have avoided the fallacy of begging the question, but these three suffice for now. Hume does not avoid that fallacy, and he commits others.

Believers would not want to relinquish the regularity of the laws of nature. Miracles are much rarer than strictly rare natural events, even though anomalies happen. But skeptics seem to wield, even with their "softer" arguments, the laws against miracles as if the laws are the judge, prosecutor, jury, and executioner. That is unfair. So we reach the same conclusion as noted before and reaffirmed later in this article: miracles may go free after they are investigated and put on trial; their reality must be a live option. If not, then this begs the question always in favor of naturalism.

Five ways out?

Maybe Hume, surprisingly, leaves five small ways out for miracles from their false imprisonment. Maybe this allows him to escape from the accusation of begging the question or circular reasoning. Again, here are his definitions of miracles.

A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature; and as firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined.

A miracle may be accurately defined [as] a transgression of a law of nature by a particular volition of the Deity, or by the interposition of some invisible agent.
(1) In the first definition, Hume says that our firm and unalterable experience has established the laws of nature. It seems that Hume returns to his theory about the foundation of human knowledge concerning matters of fact (e.g. the sun rises; salt dissolves in water), as opposed to relations of ideas (e.g. proofs in geometry). The foundation of human knowledge about matters of fact is experience with cause and effect, he says (e.g. speaking or talking produces [causes] sound [effect]). And the foundation of this is the accumulation of many experiences with cause and effect. And the foundation of this is mere custom or habit (Hume, pp. 25-47).

If our experience is built on such a weak foundation as custom or habit, can our experience rule out miracles altogether? Granted, miracles may be rare, but impossible? How can any court claim in advance that they are impossible when the court is investigating whether they may occur? Therefore, to investigate miracles, their reality must be a live option and a real possibility, not a fake one. However, it seems that Hume wants things both ways. Our knowledge about matters of fact is (a little) unstable. But when it comes to miracles, which are in this same empirical realm, our experience militates against them because it is unalterable. A little unstable or unalterable. Which is it? There seems at the very least to be an inconsistency. Geisler agrees that Hume is not being consistent with his own epistemology (how we acquire and define knowledge).

[Hume] himself recognized the fallacy of this kind of reasoning [that the past always determines or even resembles the future] when he argued that based on past conformity, nothing can be known with certainty about the future. We cannot even know for sure that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. Hence, for Hume to deny future miracles based on past experience is inconsistent with his own principles . . . (p. 80)
If this analysis is true, then it leaves the prison doors open to miracles.

Also see Robert A. Larmer, Water into Wine? pp. 36-37.

(2) In the second definition Hume assumes the existence of God. If he works a miracle, then the terms "violation" or "transgression" of the laws of nature are wrong. By analogy, if the prison warden allows a concert in chapel, then he commits no violation or transgression of the rules because he permits it within the limits of his own authority. But if a lone guard does this for his own purposes and without permission, then this would be a violation or transgression because he does not act as a rightful authority. The existence of God lifts the analogy beyond the human level. More than a warden, God does not violate or transgress anything of his creation when miracles occur, because he is the final authority over it.

See Kreeft and Tacelli, pp. 111-12, who use the metaphor of a high school principal and a gym teacher.

Lewis writes wisely about how nature naturalizes the immigrant or miracle, so it is not a violator, but a welcome guest. The regularity of nature says, if A (cause), then B (effect). But a miracle introduces a new cause and effect: if A2, then B2, and the new situation conforms to all the laws.

It is therefore a mistake to define a miracle as something that breaks the laws of nature. It doesn't . . . If God annihilates or creates or deflects a unit of matter, He has created a new situation at that point. Immediately Nature domiciles this new situation, makes it at home in her realm, adapts all other events to it. It finds itself conforming to all the laws. If God creates a miraculous spermatozoon in the body of a virgin, it does not proceed to break any laws. The laws at once take over. Nature is ready. Pregnancy follows, according to all the normal laws, and nine months later a child is born . . . The moment [the newcomer, e.g. miracle] enters [Nature's] realm, it obeys her laws. Miraculous wine will intoxicate, miraculous conception will lead to pregnancy, inspired books will suffer all the ordinary processes of textual corruption, miraculous bread will be digested. The divine art of miracle is not an art of suspending the pattern to which events conform, but of feeding new events into that pattern. It does not violate the law's proviso, "If A, then B": it says, "But this time instead of A, A2" and Nature, speaking through all her laws, replies, "Then B2" and naturalizes the immigrant . . . . (pp. 80-81)
(3) Hume says that no miracle can be proved as it relates to the foundation of a religion (again begging the question, though we let that pass). But other miracles found in less important contexts may be possible.

For I own that otherwise [from the foundation of a religion] there may be the possibility of miracles, or violations of the normal course of nature, of such a kind to admit of proof from human testimony; though perhaps it will be impossible to find any such in all the records of history. (Hume, p. 127)
Despite Hume's concession, he still believes that he has a watertight case against even non-foundational miracles because they are mentioned only in recorded history. And such history is unconvincing, for the more remote it is, the less reliable it is (p. 109). Incidentally, this means that the Christian religion, founded by the miracles of Jesus, notably his Resurrection, have no reasonable foundation (p. 130-31). Finally, Hume already stated that miracles did not happen in his modern times and enlightened society (pp. 119-20). It seems, then, that he has once again shut the prison doors on non-foundational miracles, so his concession is empty. Nonetheless, we should take what we can get from Hume and his super-high, cannot-lose definition of miracles, so maybe the prison doors are left a little ajar. This is all the more true if we move forward from an investigation into past history and towards miracles today.

(4) Hume says that probability, not a full proof, may be a criterion for determining the veracity of witnesses for non-foundational miracles (p. 127). Maybe this probability (or perhaps strong possibility) is all that an open-minded person needs in order to move in the direction of belief.

(5) Hume may allow another way out of his prison. He says that "if a person claiming divine authority should command a sick person to be well . . . which immediately follow upon his command, [this] might justly be esteemed [a miracle]" (p. 115, note 1). He also lists other miraculous events, but they do not concern us here because in the linked article Do Miracles Happen Today? (see below), we limit the testimonies to recovery from physical ailments. Has anyone recovered immediately after words of prayer or even commands of healing have been spoken?

What about today?

What if today miracles happen that have been verified by the science that examines cause and effect in the human body? It is one thing to rely on an ace up your sleeve-no one can find sufficiently reliable historical records, and miracles simply don't happen in the Age of Enlightenment. But what about miracles we can see with our own eyes, in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, in the Age of Science? Technology may render testimonies in defense of miracles probable and exonerative. Unfortunately, Hume lived before these modern times so he could not avail himself to confirmatory, high technology.

Ellie

thedrifter
12-25-06, 08:28 AM
December 25, 2006
Fortifying Hume's Miracle Prison (2): Miracles and Historical Testimony
By James Arlandson

In our Part Two here, we turn our attention towards the historian's task of investigating past events. The same problems confronting the believer in the realm of science emerge in the realm of history. The same basic regularities that happen today also happened in the past, so they preclude miracles. Or the regularity of past and present events makes miracles highly improbable compared to people's testimony.

The goal of this essay is modest. It is to keep Hume's prison doors open, so that professional skeptics do not close them even before investigating them. This essay, repeating and reinforcing the aim throughout, is a follow up to an earlier one: Fortifying Hume's Miracle Prison (1).

For our purposes a believer says that miracles happen, a theist is a believer, and a skeptic says that miracles do not and even cannot occur.

Aren't miracles maximally improbable?

Theistic philosopher Francis Beckwith explains what "maximally improbable" means: ". . . [T]here are no events more improbable than miracles, which is to say that miracles are the most improbable events that can be conceived" (Beckwith, "History and Miracles," p. 94, emphasis added).

Skeptic J. L. Mackie (d. 1981) says that miracles are indeed maximally improbable:

[The believer] must in effect concede to Hume that the antecedent [causally or logically prior] improbability of this event [miracle] is as high as it could be, hence that, apart from the testimony, we have the strongest possible grounds for believing that the alleged event did not occur. This event must, by the miracle advocate's own admission, be contrary to a genuine, not merely supposed, law of nature, and therefore maximally improbable. It is this maximal improbability that the weight of the testimony would have to overcome (p. 25, emphasis original).
In reply, however, theistic philosopher Keith Ward challenges this in three ways.

First, "there is something odd about trying to balance the improbability of a testimony being mistaken against the improbability of some event occurring" (p. 132). Ward explains further:

What has gone wrong here is the idea that we have two independent probabilities to balance against one another. It would not, despite Hume, be reasonable to say that the improbability of my table rising into the air and the improbability of my being mistaken in claiming to see it, just cancel each other out; so that I must remain agnostic, refusing to believe my own eyes because of some probabilistic balancing-act. On the contrary, as long as I pinch myself and look especially carefully, it would be reasonable to accept, without tentativeness, that the improbable has certainly occurred, and that I have certainly seen it. (p. 133)
That is, if we witness an actual miracle with our own eyes, do we have to deny our capacity to be accurate just because of the improbability balancing act? Why should our senses be refused? We may be extra careful in making sure that they are not. Ward adds:

I will reasonably place a greater weight on the trustworthiness of my senses than on any set of customary expectation of how the world may go. And I will reasonably accept the similar testimony of reliable witnesses in good conditions of observation, in default of some plausible explanation of how they could have fallen into error (p. 133)
Second, Mackie frames his argument in a way that believers must also, along with skeptics, assume miracles are maximally improbable. Ward replies:

But that seems quite false to the way miracles are generally portrayed in the Biblical tradition, at least. If someone believes that there exists an omnipotent God, who created the universe for a purpose; then there is an antecedent probability that he will act within the universe to accomplish his purpose. It seems antecedently improbable that God's purpose could be accomplished without any action in the world by him. (p. 134)
Ward is right about this. Once we allow the existence of God, then we thereafter cannot ultimately dictate terms. A believer steps in and says that his God works miracles.

Third and finally, to counter the believer's acceptance of God's existence, a skeptic may assert a closed system, what Ward calls "scientific objectivism"-"the theory that all events in the natural universe are non-purposive, and wholly determined by general physical laws, which form a closed, universally determining system" (p. 136). But in reply, Ward says it is unfalsifiable and hence suspect. It proves too much. He writes:

If the postulate [of scientific objectivism] is accepted, it will make highly improbable the occurrence of any falsifying instances-such as particular purposive occurrences in nature, not determined by laws of regular succession alone. But such falsifying instances may occur, and must in a sense be looked for, if the explanatory postulate is to be reasonably upheld . . . It will not be enough to say that, since they are maximally improbable on the theory, no testimony to their occurrence will be acceptable. That will be obviously cheating (p. 136)
Thus, a skeptic must keep open the prison doors shutting in miracles because if miracles are completely excluded, then once again this begs the question in favor of naturalism or scientific objectivism.

Beckwith agrees:

But we can know that miracles are maximally improbable only if we already know that miracles could or have never occurred or that they are logically impossible (that is, conceptually impossible, like a "square circle" or a "married bachelor). Opponents of miracles must therefore maintain that miracles are maximally improbable because they already know that miracles could or have never occurred . . . Consequently, opponents of miracles beg the question if they claim that miracles are maximally improbable. ("History and Miracles," p. 94)
Beckwith goes on in the same chapter to warn that we should not be gullible. The laws of nature are regular. But they are not "inviolable," unless we assume in advance that they are not. So the door to them must be left open in the face of sufficient testimony; otherwise, the wise man risks becoming "dogmatic and obscurantist" in relentlessly denying their occurrence (Beckwith, p. 95).

Finally, Ward likewise concludes this about the maximal improbability argument:

What has gone wrong is that, by speaking of a violation of a law of nature as maximally improbable, we ensure that mistaken observation can never be more improbable. If our claim is the more moderate and reasonable one that such violations are contrary to normal expectation, it is no longer always much more unlikely that events should occur, and be correctly observed, which go against the run of expectation. Indeed, it is not particularly improbable that such improbable things should occasionally be observed to happen, unless you have a general theory-such as "scientific objectivism"-which renders them impossible. (p. 138)
How much evidence does it take?

Can a genuinely miraculous event be known on historical evidence? Flew answers in the negative.

The criteria by which we must assess historical testimony, and the general presumptions which alone make it possible for us to construe the detritus [remains] of the past as historical evidence, must rule out any possibility of establishing, upon purely historical grounds, that some genuinely miraculous event has indeed occurred (God and Philosophy, p. 150)

However, Larmer replies to Flew's skepticism, which stands on a faulty definition of a miracle:

Flew's argument in support of this conclusion amounts to the following: (1) historical investigation presupposes the truth of the laws of nature; (2) the laws of nature must be defined as exceptionless; and (3) miracles must be defined in terms of inconsistency. This argument is valid, but not sound. Leaving aside discussion of Flew's first two premises, his third premise cannot be defended. Fundamental to the concept of miracle is the idea that nature must be overridden if a miracle is to occur. But Flew is mistaken in thinking that this implies that the laws of nature must be violated. As I have already shown, miracles, considered as objective events caused by God, can conceivably occur in a world which behaves, always and everywhere, completely in accordance with the laws of nature. (Water into Wine? p. 100)
Thus, Larmer says that Flew assumes that the laws of nature must be violated if a miracle occurs, but a miracle can take place in accordance with the laws of nature. When God works a miracle, he changes "the material conditions to which the laws of nature apply," but he does not violate his own laws.

What about studying history?

Flew spells out three propositions concerning the historian's philosophy going into his study of history. His philosophy boils down to the uniformity of the past and the present. Flew says:

The basic propositions are: first, that the present relics of the past cannot be interpreted as historical evidence at all, unless we presume that the same fundamental regularities obtained then as still obtain today; second, that in trying as best he may to determine what actually happened the historian must employ as criteria all his present knowledge, or presumed knowledge, of what is probable or improbable, possible or impossible; and third, that, since miracle has to be defined in terms of practical impossibility the application of these criteria inevitably precludes proof against miracle. (God and Philosophy, p. 150)
These propositions can be examined more closely on three fronts.

First, it is true that continuity and consistency between the past and present must exist for us to acquire historical knowledge. But as stated, Flew's watertight propositions beg the question, which assumes the answer at the start of the investigation, thus making the investigation hollow and unable to be defeated or falsified. Beckwith explains:

It is one thing to make the uncontroversial claim that historians must assume some continuity of regularities between the present and the past to have historical knowledge. It is quite another thing, however, to claim . . . that we must assume a nonmiraculous worldview in order to have historical knowledge. Such a position calls for the automatic rejection of new data, regardless of how well grounded evidentially, which may support the historicity of the miraculous and count against the nonmiraculous worldview. ("History and Miracles," p. 97)
Second, if we assume that a report about a miracle is well founded, then it becomes "highly artificial as well as woefully inadequate" to deny consistently and relentlessly any and all reports and evidence about miracles. We do not weigh one probability but many of them, "a convergence of independent probabilities" (Beckwith, p. 95). At the conclusion of Beckwith's chapter "History and Miracles," he writes: "Even if miracle claims need support from more evidence than ordinary claims in order to be held rationally, it can sometimes be the case that one has sufficient evidence to believe that a miracle has occurred" (p. 98). The evidence can mount up.

Third, Flew's propositions assume that miracles do not continue into the present. "Defenders of [Flew's] argument must show that there are no present miracles and not merely to assume there are not" (Beckwith, "History and Miracles," p. 97). This may be stated positively. In the next article in this series ("Do Miracles Happen Today?"), it will be shown that believers today observe and experience miracles; therefore, their testimony says that they indeed occur now. It is special pleading to ignore their testimony that counters the skeptics' ironclad position, without investigating it on a case-by-case.

Does Flew apply his skepticism consistently?

Corduan analyzes a part of Flew's challenge to believers, which I have put in three steps.

First, Flew says that Christians believe in God's love, no matter how much evidence from evil may militate against the belief in his love; they redefine the concept so that God always maintains his reputation. It seems Christians refuse to listen to contrary evidence and to change their mind.

Corduan summarizes Flew's challenge:

Whenever there is a challenge to their belief in God's love, [Christians] simply redefine the concept so as to avoid having to deal with the possibility that maybe the loving God in whom they believe does not exist. ("Miracles," p. 173)
In one of Flew's earlier works, he says that the assertion that God loves us undergoes a "death by a thousand qualifications" or counter-examples of his love ("Theology and Falsification," p. 97). He then asks: "What would have to occur or to have occurred to constitute for you [believers] a disproof of the love of, or the existence of, God?" (p. 99).

Corduan goes on to say that the problem of evil is hotly contested. It is possible to maintain a belief in God's love in the face of evil, but Corduan's goal is not to argue that point.

Second, Corduan spots an inconsistency in Flew's challenge to believers about evil and the love of God. This is, the believers' never-lose position is exactly how Flew opposes the reality of miracles: his skepticism can never lose.

According to Flew, it is contrary to the nature of science to make allowances for the supernatural, and historical reports should not be permitted to violate the nature of reality as science circumscribes it for us. According to Flew, that does not mean that science necessarily has the correct explanation for every historical event, but that whatever the ultimate explanation may be for a special event, it cannot be miraculous. (Corduan, p. 174)

Third, how does Flew's skepticism about miracles parallel the believer's (seeming) unquestioning belief in God's love in the face of evil? Corduan answers the question:

Consequently, Flew's claim that no events are miraculous is completely unfalsifiable, and, just as he accuses the Christian in his defense of the love of God, it becomes a meaningless mantra. No evidence could conceivably count against his rejection of any event as miraculous. (Corduan, p. 174)

Thus, we may pose this question to Flew and other neo-Humans, rephrasing the one he asked of believers in the love of God: "What would have to occur or to have occurred to constitute for you a disproof of antisupernaturalism?" (Geisler, "Miracles and the Modern Mind," p. 83).

What is your mindset?

It has been repeated throughout this essay that the prison doors locking up miracles must be kept open, if a fair and proper investigation into them is to be done. If the skeptic shuts them before the investigation begins, then this begs the question always in favor of naturalism. This worldview says that nature is all that exists, and it cannot be influenced by causes outside of itself; it is the Only Fact.

Most opposition to the possibility of miracles in the West comes from people controlled by the presuppositions of naturalism. Most such people refuse even to consider evidence that appears to support the actuality of miracles...because-consciously or unconsciously-their minds are closed on that subject. Miracles are judged to be impossible before the fact. (Ronald Nash, "Miracles and Conceptual Systems," pp. 130-31, emphasis original)

That is, miracles must be physically possible, not merely logically (conceptually) possible. And to determine whether they in fact occur, an open and fair investigation must be done. We must leave our offices and computers and look for evidence.

So what does all of this mean?

The Conclusion here applies also to Fortifying Hume's Miracle Prison (1).

Miracles happen, if they do, in the realm of perceptions, in the empirical realm, in the world of matters of fact. Therefore, they are investigable. However, can sufficient testimony ever outweigh the (nearly) unalterable laws of nature? If the claims of miracle are poised on one side of the scale, and the laws of nature on the other side, which side is heavier? Where should we place our confidence? Yet, it is one thing to dispute over miracles two thousand years ago, but what if miracles happen today under the watchful eye of science?

Further, what if the evidence for a miracle is multifaceted? What if it amounts to a convergence of probabilities (Beckwith, "History and Miracles," p. 95)? For example, a man has a lump under his arm. He and his wife can feel it. A doctor feels it too and concludes that it is likely a tumor. Also, a CT scan says that a tumor is there. A biopsy is done. A tumor is confirmed.

However, a new factor is introduced into human biology or the laws of health. People pray directly to God to remove the tumor. After the prayer, the lump has vanished. A second CT scan shows that it is completely gone. The oncologist did not treat it.

Here we have a convergence of factors that make the evidence of a miracle strong. The lump was visible (sight) to the patient and his wife and others who are untrained in medicine. One could feel it with one's hand (touch). Qualified doctors-modern representatives of science-examined the tumor with their own eyes. They performed a biopsy. A CT scan-modern technology-confirmed it was there. But after prayer, it disappeared. The oncologist is baffled, but gives the (former) cancer patient a clean bill of health. After further check ups, the tumor has not returned, no traces. For most people, the side of the scales tips, if only a little, in favor of a miracle.

The meaning of skepticism in ancient Greek is investigation and inquiry. Skeptics have a duty to their name to investigate.

The next part in the series on miracles considers the evidence of real-life miracles today. It is time we supplement the philosophical arguments with empirical evidence, using modern technology to examine and perhaps confirm miracles-though I claim here in advance that, according to the evidence proffered in the next article, miracles in fact occur.