Miracles

There is something puzzling in the Gospel accounts. Jesus heals people, drives out demons, and feeds multitudes. Yet people approach him and ask for a sign. What, exactly, do they think has been happening?

The familiar explanation is that they refuse to believe despite the evidence. That explains their persistence, but it leaves another question open: what kind of evidence would they consider worthy of God? Why can a person’s suffering be relieved before their eyes without that relief becoming, for them, a recognizable expression of divine goodness?

A careful reading of the Gospels suggests that “faith,” as Jesus understands and evaluates it, is not a single faculty but a compound disposition consisting at least of three inseparable elements: imagination, trust, and humbleness. When any one of these is absent, faith collapses—even if the other two appear to be present. This helps explain why Jesus sometimes praises extraordinary faith where belief seems minimal, and at other times rebukes “little faith” where belief in his power appears obvious.

Human beings naturally imagine heavenly superiority by enlarging the qualities they admire in themselves. If intelligence is valuable, heavenly beings must possess infinitely more intelligence. If knowledge gives power, heavenly beings must possess enormous stores of knowledge. If science allows humanity to manipulate nature, divine knowledge must be something like perfect science.

But perhaps this entire picture begins from the wrong end.

The apparent contradiction between the Bible and the Qur’an is well known. The Gospels report that Jesus was arrested, crucified, killed, and afterwards seen alive. The Qur’an declares:

“They did not kill him, nor did they crucify him, but it was made to appear so to them” (Qur’an 4:157).

Before attempting to reconcile these accounts, we must first ask what the Qur’anic statement actually denies.

Does the Second Clause Merely Describe the Method of Killing?

One interpretation treats the sentence as partly redundant:

The final chapters of the Gospel of John become much easier to understand if they are allowed to speak in their own sequence.

Jesus repeatedly tells the disciples that he must go away. His departure is not presented as an unfortunate loss but as something necessary. Unless he goes, the Paraclete will not come. More surprisingly, Jesus even insists that his departure is advantageous. The one who comes afterward will not represent a deterioration of his presence but an improvement upon it.

One of the most widespread assumptions in popular demonology is that exorcism is a one-time event. A demon is expelled, the problem is solved, and the afflicted person is permanently free. The image is appealing because it offers a clear victory. A battle is fought, the enemy is defeated, and the story reaches its conclusion. Yet when the words of Jesus are examined carefully, a different picture begins to emerge—one that places far less emphasis on dramatic confrontation and far more emphasis on what happens afterward.