The Glaring Problem with the Argument from Miracles

Bad logic, incomplete arguments, and the strange case of Prahlad Jani

Photo by Rahul Mishra on Unsplash

To clarify upfront, I am an advocate for miraculous claims. This article is not directed solely at Catholics (though they have made it expedient to post this), nor am I an opponent of miracles as apologetics. My desire is to see the argument improved, but, given my current research on Eastern spirituality and miraculous claims, the following needs to be said…

In 2010, a scientific team of 35 researchers at the Indian Defence Institute of Physiology and Allied Sciences (DIPAS) undertook one of the most controversial studies ever done. Eighty-year-old Prahlad Jani claimed to have been visited by the goddess Amba; the goddess, in return for his devotion, would sustain him with nectar he claimed flowed through a hole in the roof of his mouth. Thus, he could survive without food or water. That, at least, was his claim—a claim that could be tested.

And that was exactly what the scientists at DIPAS set out to investigate. By placing Jani in a hospital under constant observation for two weeks, the team could determine if he really did possess this supernormal power. DIPAS’s investigation could easily flex its scientific muscles, as it involved Sudhir Shah, one of the foremost neurologists in the nation. So extraordinary were Shah’s contributions to medicine that a grateful nation later crowned him with the Padma Shri, India’s fourth-highest civilian honor. With the help of an array of CCTV cameras and a large multidisciplinary team of scientists and physicians, the question of whether humans are capable of inedia (prolonged abstinence from food, and sometimes drink) would be subjected to the dispassionate and clinical precision of the scientific method. After fifteen days, the scientists confronted the baffling results. Daily examinations revealed little physiological change. He had not eaten, drunk, defecated, or urinated—something seemingly impossible for any human being. Moreover, his body didn’t even seem to offer any evidence that he was fasting. None of the metabolic changes were observable. As one of the researchers noted, “If a person starts fasting, there will be some changes in his metabolism, but in his case we did not find any.”^[1]

What makes this case even more intriguing is that this was the second test—the first being performed in 2003 and delivering similarly puzzling results.

Critics were quick to pounce. Many cited Shah’s Jain faith as a possible motivating factor for hoaxing, though given the large team involved and the fact that this study involved the Ministry of Defence (not to mention Shah’s otherwise impeccable credentials), such an explanation seemed unlikely—even desperate. Others accused the team of “cheating” by allowing Jani to gargle and bathe; however, the team repeatedly confirmed that Jani drank none of the water. This explanation would also not be able to account for his failure to urinate.

That is not to say that the experiment was perfect. Some have called out short episodes where Jani leaves the camera’s field of view. Jani also did receive some visitors, though seemingly always under observation. However, the 2003 experiment did prevent Jani from receiving any visitors. Additionally, even if some guests did sneak him food and water, there’s still that lingering question of why he failed to defecate or urinate. There’s also the puzzling fact that the detailed results were never published in a peer-reviewed journal. As disappointing and suspicious as this is, it is perhaps unsurprising, given the nature of the study and its potential utility in military contexts. The goal was military research, not academic prestige. Thus, whether the results were true or hoaxed, there seems plenty of incentive to hide the details, so this lack of peer review shouldn’t tilt the scales too far in either direction. In the end, to explain these studies away, the critic must posit either a deception so intricate that disbelief becomes the harder thing to believe, or an incompetence so glaring that it strains credulity all its own. Yet there is an ironic twist here, for the Christian cannot demand less skepticism here than they’ve resented skeptics demanding of them.

Now, do I believe Jani survived fifteen days without food and water? I’m not sure. Given my Christian convictions and the background of Hindu religiosity that colors this account, it certainly causes me to sweat. The most obvious, knee-jerk reaction would be an appeal to the demonic. Didn’t Jannes and Jambres duplicate the miracles of Moses? However, I feel deeply uncomfortable about such appeals; couldn’t the adherent of another religion surmise that the miracles supporting my religion were the products of dark, deceptive spirits? Healings, visions, even the resurrection of Christ—who is to say these were not all concocted by malevolent forces to deceive us away from the truths found in their religion? And so, I find myself in an odd position: crack the gate open for one benevolent miracle to be diabolical, and the gates of Hades burst wide, ready to claim them all.

So perhaps the best option is to play the skeptic. As a Protestant, the position is rather easy, as the Protestant tradition has (outside of the charismatic movement) been more suspicious of the miraculous. This might be the best approach to take, though it leads me to wonder: can a Catholic say the same?

Ethan Muse and Joe Schmid have made waves with their recent advocacy of seemingly veridical Catholic miracles, and indeed, there are plenty. Lourdes, Fatima, Zeitoun (sort of)—the list goes on. I’ve always found these miracles intriguing, and though most of them underdetermine Catholicism (there are very few that reveal anything that, say, an Orthodox or Anglo-Catholic would deny), they together form a bulwark of evidence that might buckle the knees of even the most confident Protestant. It’s not a new problem, for even at the advent of Protestantism, there were claims that Catholic miracles were signs of demonic activity. Much has changed. Today, Protestants are far more likely to regard Catholic claims with an eye of suspicion. And remember those Charismatics? I would wager they boast more miraculous claims per capita than any other Christian tradition. Yet Catholicism has the theological and institutional mechanisms to easily accommodate such claims; (most) Protestants typically have a harder time with Marian apparitions that, say, self-identify as the Immaculate Conception.

This offers a broad summary of the contemporary debate, and here is where I wish to return to the story of Jani and ask, “How would a Catholic respond to miracle claims from other religions?” Ones like Jani’s cannot so easily be accommodated, as they involve pagan deities. Nor could the Catholic simply take the skeptic’s approach. Jani’s experiment was done in a controlled scientific environment—a privilege not held by most of Catholicism’s most famous miracles (and, to be fair, the same could be said of Protestant miracles). To exercise this level of skepticism would, at the very least, risk special pleading. Someone might complain that it is only one miraculous claim versus dozens on the side of Christians, and I should caution that this is not the case—at least not in the way my imagined interlocutor believes it to be. There are plenty of other remarkable cases like this deriving from other faiths. Does Christianity have more? Yes, but if even one of these other miracles matches the evidential value found in Christian miracle claims, it forces us into reevaluation. So perhaps the best option for the Catholic is to declare Jani’s power to be demonic in origin. Here, again, we open a can of worms, for if Jani’s inedia was the product of demons, could not also the same be said of Catherine of Siena, St. Lidwina, Saint Nicholas von Flüe, Therese Neumann, and the Venerable Domenica dal Paradiso, who all reportedly achieved the same feat? Indeed, in a scene that mirrors the one that opened this piece, Pope Benedict XIV once commissioned the medical faculty at the University of Bologna to investigate reports of Christian inedia.^[2] If a Catholic invokes demonic deception to explain an apparently miraculous phenomenon outside Christianity, what principled criterion prevents the same explanation from being applied to apparently miraculous phenomena within Christianity? In other words, what keeps Protestants from rediscovering their roots? I should make clear that I categorically deny any belief in this; my goal is simply to work out the implications of the present discourse.

So, in this short article, I want to pose the question: if Catholic miracle claims have met the standard of belief, have we convincingly demonstrated that no other religious claims have? For if they have, the implications are dangerous. I’ve met a growing number of Eastern-minded thinkers who fully affirm the bodily resurrection of Christ yet would call themselves closer to Hindus. Eastern religions often have the ability to accommodate competing religions’ miracle claims in a way Christianity does not. So have Catholics introduced a new standard of evidence to determine the true faith—one they’ll later learn to regret?

I have not seen this question answered—nor much addressed—in these conversations, though perhaps I am wrong. I don’t retain an exhaustive knowledge of every facet of this debate, and if I’ve erred, I would love to hear it. As for now, I retain the position of a cautious skeptic regarding their apologetic value. Hear me out: I’m not a skeptic in miracles themselves but only their ability to determine correct doctrine, whether for Catholicism, Protestantism, or *fill in the blank*. So, I argue, if these apologetic conversations are to continue—as I believe they should—they must do so with a healthy appreciation that Christianity is not the sole religion to find its home on our soil, and it is by no means the only one that can stake a claim in the game of miracles.

Argument in Shortened Form

1) If miracles occur that seemingly validate certain religious claims, we are warranted in believing in those religious claims

2) Miracles occur that seemingly validate certain religious claims.

3) Therefore, we are warranted in believing those religious claims.

Premise 1 is arguably satisfied by other religious claims—those that are incompatible with Christianity. Appealing to deception by spiritual beings undermines premise 1, thus damaging the argument. Accepting the two premises would seemingly entail embracing something other than orthodox Christianity to account for these miracles (like religious pluralism). The last resource would be to undermine miracle claims emerging in other religions, but this risks special pleading without demonstrating that every single one fails to satisfy the same evidential benchmark reached by Christian miracle claims. As far as I am aware, we have not come close to this. This is not to say that it can’t be done but only that it hasn’t.

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^[1] Manas Dasgupta “DIPAS Concludes Observational Study on ‘Mataji’,” The Hindu, May 9, 2010. https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/DIPAS-concludes-observational-study-on-lsquoMataji/article16299365.ece.

^[2] Herbert Thurston, The Physical Phenomena of Mysticism (London: Burns Oates, 1952), 377.