MIRACLES
Whether the miracles of Jesus really happened or are merely legendary I do not know, and, if I may say it without irreverence, I do not care. They are not necessary to my Christianity, which, to say the truth, can better do without them. What is it to me, and to such as me, whether, in the little village of Bethany, Jesus did or did not raise to life one poor dead body, when I know that in the centuries since he has raised to life millions of dead souls? And what, after all, does it matter whether on the shores of the lake of Galilee on a late afternoon nearly two thousand years ago he gave one meal to five thousand persons by feeding them with a few loaves and fishes, when I know that all the world over, every day, every night, this very night, he is feeding countless millions of the poor, the opprest and the broken-hearted, making them forget their hunger and thirst and all the sufferings of their earthly existence in the bread of the Spirit that is the bread of life?—Hall Caine, Christian Commonwealth.
(2032)
Some wealthy Africans, with whom Kruger was traveling in the desert, found the food-hampers gone astray. “You are a great believer in miracles, Oom Paul,” said one of them. “Why can’t you arrange for heaven to send me victuals by the crows, as they were sent by the ravens to Elijah.” “Because,” said Oom, dryly, “Elijah was a prophet with a mission; you are a fool with an appetite.”
(2033)
MIRACLES, EVIDENTIAL VALUE OF
Whatever effect or lack of effect miracles have on modern minds, the following account shows that they are of first value to simple-minded natives. The writer is Sophie B. Titterington:
When the rumor flew around Aniwa that “Missi” (Dr. John G. Paton), was trying to dig water out of the ground, the old Christian chief tenderly labored with him. “Oh, Missi, your head is going wrong. Don’t let our people hear you talking about going down into the earth for rain, or they will never listen to your word, or believe you again.”
But the island was greatly in need of good water, and Dr. Paton dug away at the well, single-handed. It was hard, weary work. He hired some of the natives with fish-hooks to get out three pailfuls each, still doing most of the heavy work himself. But when the well was twelve feet deep, one side of it caved in. This gave the loving, troubled old chief another plea. He represented that if Missi had been in the hole that night, he would have been killed, and an English warship would have come to find out what had happened to the white man. They would not believe that Missi had gone into that hole of his own accord, but would punish them for his supposed murder.