One of the commonest miracles ascribed to religious leaders of all sects and times, and one which never fails to convince witnesses and hearers of the authenticity of such a leader’s claims, is that of restoring the dead to life. Such miracles have been so well attested that there seems little reason to suppose them entirely fictitious.
Everyone has heard of cases of catalepsy, and medical history teems with cases of “suspended animation”; in fact, the only actual proof of death is the entire decomposition of the vital organs; therefore, the cruelty and crime of embalming corpses before such a condition is apparent. Some undertakers actually insist upon embalming before such conditions, because the dead can then be made to “present a better appearance”!
There are numerous well-proven cases of people lying for days in cataleptic conditions, even with slight signs of decomposition due to restricted circulation, and then returning to renewed lives and perfectly healthy states. All Eastern travelers are familiar with the practices of Hindu fakirs who allow themselves to be buried alive for weeks, and are “resurrected” without having suffered. Therefore, it does not seem improbable that some such acts on the parts of various religious leaders may have occurred which have excited wonder with the ignorant, and interest among the educated. The early Christians proclaimed many such wonderful works, albeit when challenged by a wealthy pagan to produce even one such case, in payment for which he would become a convert, a failure was the result.
Orthodox Christians proclaim that Jesus raised from death Jairus’ daughter, in entire forgetfulness of the actual words accredited to their leader, which were, “The maid is not dead, but sleepeth” ([Matt. ix, 24]; [Mark v, 39]; [Luke viii, 52]), showing his opinion that she was in a cataleptic condition. While neither of the first three gospels says aught of the raising of Lazarus, we find it in John, who seems to have substituted it for the story of Jairus’ daughter, which does not appear in his gospel. According to this hyperbolical and probably demented authority, Jesus raised Lazarus to life after he had been dead four days ([John xi, 17]), although Jesus maintained that Lazarus was not dead ([John xi, 11]). He declared that “this sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified there-by” ([John xi, 4]), or, in other words, Jesus believed that the unfortunate Lazarus was obliged to undergo this frightful experience that his seeming resurrection might cause gaping among the vulgar, and add to the prestige of the miracle worker. For this reason, he purposely postponed going to the dying man, whom he might have saved, that he might later have the glory of bringing him to life! Excellent ethics! Finally, however, when he did depart, he said positively, “Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep” ([John xi, 11]). Having arrived at the sepulchre, he approached it, groaning and weeping, in a most theatrical manner, such as would appeal to a highly strung audience, and cried in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” whereupon the dead man arose and came out ([John xi, 33, 35], [43]).
Now, this may have been catalepsy, and it may have been the strong voice and will of the Christ which caused the awakening, but, in all probability, if the affair ever occurred, it was a preconceived dramatic incident. All the actors were partisans of the professed messiah, and the whole story reads like a play, and undoubtedly the words “come forth” were the cue for the waiting man to appear.
It is by such contemptible methods that religions are established. If the tale were due to the imagination of the author of John, it is most discreditable to him, and places his hero in a very bad light. If it actually occurred, it shows Jesus as a vain-glorious boaster, anxious to show his power to the vulgar, and desirous of gaining a following by charlatanry, either by raising a hypnotized man or by creating a cheap melodrama.
It had been prophesied ([2 Esdras xiii, 50]) that the messiah should be a miracle worker, which probably caused Jesus to affect this rôle when he accepted the part of the messiah, and to condescend to soil his mission by charlatanism, even to the raising of the dead in imitation of the former prophets, Elijah and Elisha ([I Kings xvii, 16–24]; [II Kings iv, 18–37]).
It is rather amusing to hear Theodore Christlieb, that well-named, sturdy old German supporter of orthodoxy, boldly assert in irrevocable simplicity and straightforwardness, in his “Modern Doubt and Christian Belief”: “However much in other respects our opponents may differ, they all agree in the denial of miracles, and unitedly storm this bulwark of the Christian faith; and in its defense we have to combat them all at once. But whence this unanimity? Because with the truth of miracles the entire citadel of Christianity stands or falls. [The italics are his own.] For its beginning is a miracle, its author is a miracle, its progress depends upon miracles, and they will hereafter be its consummation. If the principle of miracles be set aside, then all the heights of Christianity will be leveled with one stroke, and naught will remain but a heap of ruins. If we banish the supernatural from the Bible, there is nothing left us but the covers” (pages 285–6).