Nothing, I suppose, is more surprising to us at first reading, than the history of God’s chosen people; nay, on second and third reading, and on every reading, till we learn to view it as God views it.  It seems strange, indeed, to most persons, that the Israelites should have acted as they did, age after age, in spite of the miracles which were vouchsafed to them.  The laws of nature were suspended again and again before their eyes, the most marvellous signs were wrought at the word of God’s prophets, and for their deliverance, yet they did not obey their great Benefactor at all better than men now-a-days who have not these advantages, as we commonly consider them.  Age after age God visited them by Angels, by inspired messengers, age after age they sinned.  At last He sent His beloved Son; and He wrought miracles before them still more abundant, wonderful, and beneficent than any before Him.  What was the effect upon them of His coming?  St. John tells us, “Then gathered the Chief Priests and the Pharisees a council, and said, What do we? for this Man doeth many miracles. . . . .  Then from that day forth they took counsel together for to put Him to death.”

In matter of fact, then, whatever be the reason, nothing is gained by miracles, nothing comes of miracles, as regards our religious views, principles, and habits.  Hard as it is to believe, miracles certainly do not make men better; the history of Israel proves it.  And the only mode of escaping this conclusion, to which some persons feel a great repugnance, is to fancy that the Israelites were much worse than other nations, which accordingly has been maintained.  It has often been said, that they were stiff-necked and hard-hearted beyond the rest of the world.  Now, even supposing, for argument’s sake, I should grant that they were so, this would not sufficiently account for the strange circumstance under consideration; for this people was not moved at all.  It is not a question of more or less:  surely they must have been altogether distinct from other men, destitute of the feelings and opinions of other men, nay, hardly partakers of human nature, if other men would, as a matter of course, have been moved by those miracles which had no influence whatever upon them.  That there are, indeed, men in the world who would have been moved, and would have obeyed in consequence, I do not deny; such were to be found among the Israelites also; but I am speaking of men in general; and I say, that if the Israelites had a common nature with us, surely that insensibility which they exhibited on the whole, must be just what we should exhibit on the whole under the same circumstances.

It confirms this view of the subject to observe, that the children of Israel are like other men in all points of their conduct, save this insensibility, which other men have not had the opportunity to show as they had.  There is no difference between their conduct and ours in point of fact, the difference is entirely in the external discipline to which God subjected them.  Whether or not miracles ought to have influenced them in a way in which God’s dealings in Providence do not influence us, so far is clear, that looking into their modes of living and of thought, we find a nature just like our own, not better indeed, but in no respect worse.  Those evil tempers which the people displayed in the desert, their greediness, selfishness, murmuring, caprice, waywardness, fickleness, ingratitude, jealousy, suspiciousness, obstinacy, unbelief, all these are seen in the uneducated multitude now-a-days, according to its opportunity of displaying them.

The pride of Dathan and the presumption of Korah are still instanced in our higher ranks and among educated persons.  Saul, Ahithophel, Joab, and Absalom, have had their parallels all over the world.  I say there is nothing unlike the rest of mankind in the character or conduct of the chosen people; the difference solely is in God’s dealings with them.  They act as other men; it is their religion which is not as other men; it is miraculous; and the question is, how it comes to pass, their religion being different, their conduct is the same? and there are two ways of answering it; either by saying that they were worse than other men, and were not influenced by miracles when others would have been influenced (as many persons are apt to think), or (what I conceive to be the true reason) that, after all, the difference between miracle and no miracle is not so great in any case, in the case of any people, as to secure the success or account for the failure of religious truth.  It was not that the Israelites were much more hard-hearted than other people, but that a miraculous religion is not much more influential than other religions.

For I repeat, though it be granted that the Israelites were much worse than others, still that will not account for the fact that miracles made no impression whatever upon them.  However sensual and obstinate they may be supposed to have been in natural character, yet if it be true that a miracle has a necessary effect upon the human mind, it must be considered to have had some effect on their conduct for good or bad; if it had not a good effect, at least it must have had a bad; whereas their miracles left them very much the same in outward appearance as men are now-a-days, who neglect such warnings as are now sent them, neither much more lawless and corrupt than they, nor the reverse.  The point is, that while they were so hardened, as it appears to us, in their conduct towards their Lord and Governor, they were not much worse than other men in social life and personal behaviour.  It is a rule that if men are extravagantly irreligious, profane, blasphemous, infidel, they are equally excessive and monstrous in other respects; whereas the Jews were like the Eastern nations around them, with this one peculiarity, that they had rejected direct and clear miraculous evidence, and the others had not.  It seems, then, I say, to follow, that, guilty as were the Jews in disobeying Almighty God, and blind as they became from shutting their eyes to the light, they were not much more guilty than others may be in disobeying Him, that it is almost as great a sin to reject His service in the case of those who do not see miracles, as in the case of those who do; that the sight of miracles is not the way in which men come to believe and obey, nor the absence of them an excuse for not believing and obeying.

Now let me say something in explanation of this, at first sight, startling truth, that miracles on the whole would not make men in general more obedient or holy than they are, though they were generally displayed.  It has sometimes been said by unbelievers, “If the Gospel were written on the Sun, I would believe it.”  Unbelievers have said so by way of excusing themselves for not believing it, as it actually comes to them; and I dare say some of us, my brethren, have before now uttered the same sentiment in our hearts, either in moments of temptation, or when under the upbraidings of conscience for sin committed.  Now let us consider, why do we think so?

I ask, why should the sight of a miracle make you better than you are?  Do you doubt at all the being and power of God?  No.  Do you doubt what you ought to do?  No.  Do you doubt at all that the rain, for instance, and sunshine, come from Him? or that the fresh life of each year, as it comes, is His work, and that all nature bursts into beauty and richness at His bidding?  You do not doubt it at all.  Nor do you doubt, on the other hand, that it is your duty to obey Him who made the world and who made you.  And yet, with the knowledge of all this, you find you cannot prevail upon yourselves to do what you know you should do.  Knowledge is not what you want to make you obedient.  You have knowledge enough already.  Now what truth would a miracle convey to you which you do not learn from the works of God around you?  What would it teach you concerning God which you do not already believe without having seen it?

But, you will say, a miracle would startle you; true; but would not the startling pass away? could you be startled for ever?  And what sort of a religion is that which consists in a state of fright and disturbance?  Are you not continually startled by the accidents of life?  You see, you hear things suddenly, which bring before your minds the thoughts of God and judgment, calamities befall you which for the time sober you.  Startling is not conversion, any more than knowledge is practice.

But you urge, that perhaps that startling might issue in amendment of life; that it might be the beginning of a new course, though it passed away itself; that a miracle would not indeed convert you, but it would be the first step towards thorough conversion; that it would be the turning point in your life, and would suddenly force your path into the right direction, and that in this way shocks and startlings, and all the agitation of the passions and affections, are really the means of conversion, though conversion be something more than they.  This is very true:  sudden emotions fear, hope, gratitude, and the like, all do produce such effects sometimes; but why is a miracle necessary to produce such effects?  Other things startle us besides miracles; we have a number of accidents sent us by God to startle us.  He has not left us without warnings, though He has not given us miracles; and if we are not moved and converted by those which come upon us, the probability is, that, like the Jews, we should not be converted by miracles.

Yes, you say; but if one came from the dead, if you saw the spirit of some departed friend you knew on earth:  what then?  What would it tell you that you do not know now?  Do you now in your sober reason doubt the reality of the unseen world? not at all; only you cannot get yourself to act as if it were real.  Would such a sight produce this effect? you think it would.  Now I will grant this on one supposition.  Do the startling accidents which happen to you now, produce any lasting effect upon you?  Do they lead you to any habits of religion?  If they do produce some effect, then I will grant to you that such a strange visitation, as you have supposed, would produce a greater effect; but if the events of life which now happen to you produce no lasting effect on you, and this I fear is the case, then too sure I am, that a miracle too would produce no lasting effect on you, though of course it would startle you more at the time.  I say, I fear that what happens to you, as it is, produces no lasting effect on you.  I mean, that the warnings which you really have, do not bring you to any habitual and regular religiousness; they may make you a little more afraid of this or that sin, or of this or that particular indulgence of it; but they do not tend at all to make you break with the world, and convert you to God.  If they did make you take up religion in earnest, though in ever so poor a way, then I will grant that miracles would make you more in earnest.  If God’s ordinary warnings moved you, His extraordinary would move you more.  It is quite true, that a serious mind would be made more serious by seeing a miracle, but this gives no ground for saying, that minds which are not serious, careless, worldly, self-indulgent persons, who are made not at all better by the warnings which are given them, would be made serious by those miraculous warnings which are not given.

Of course it might so happen in this or that particular case, just as the same person is moved by one warning, not by another, not moved by a warning to-day, moved by a warning to-morrow; but I am sure, taking men as we find them, miracles would leave them, as far as their conduct is concerned, very much as they are.  They would be very much startled and impressed at first, but the impression would wear away.  And thus our Saviour’s words would come true of all those multitudes who have the Bible to read, and know what they ought to do, but do it not: “If they hear not Moses and the Prophets,” He says, “neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead.”  Do we never recollect times when we have said, “We shall never forget this; it will be a warning all through our lives”? have we never implored God’s forgiveness with the most eager promises of amendment? have we never felt as if we were brought quite into a new world, in gratitude and joy?  Yet was the result what we had expected?  We cannot anticipate more from miracles, than before now we have anticipated from warnings, which came to nought.

And now, what is the real reason why we do not seek God with all our hearts, and devote ourselves to His service, if the absence of miracles be not the reason, as most assuredly it is not?  What was it that made the Israelites disobedient, who had miracles?  St. Paul informs us, and exhorts us in consequence.  “Harden not your hearts, as in the provocation, in the day of temptation in the wilderness . . . take heed . . . lest there be in any of you” (as there was among the Jews) “an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the Living God.”  Moses had been commissioned to say the same thing at the very time; “Oh that there were such a heart in them, that they would fear Me, and keep My Commandments always!” We cannot serve God, because we want the will and the heart to serve Him.  We like any thing better than religion, as the Jews before us.  The Jews liked this world; they liked mirth and feasting.  “The people sat down to eat and to drink, and rose up to play;” so do we.  They liked glitter and show, and the world’s fashions.  “Give us a king like the nations,” they said to Samuel; so do we.  They wished to be let alone; they liked ease; they liked their own way; they disliked to make war against the natural impulses and leanings of their own minds; they disliked to attend to the state of their souls, to have to treat themselves as spiritually sick and infirm, to watch, and rule, and chasten, and refrain, and change themselves; and so do we.  They disliked to think of God, and to observe and attend His ordinances, and to reverence Him; they called it a weariness to frequent His courts; and they found this or that false worship more pleasant, satisfactory, congenial to their feelings, than the service of the Judge of quick and dead; and so do we:  and therefore we disobey God as they did, not that we have not miracles; for they actually had them, and it made no difference.  We act as they did, though they had miracles, and we have not; because there is one cause of it common both to them and us heartlessness in religious matters, an evil heart of unbelief, both they and we disobey and disbelieve, because we do not love.

But this is not all; in another respect we are really far more favoured than they were, they had outward miracles, we too have miracles, but they are not outward but inward.  Ours are not miracles of evidence, but of power and influence.  They are secret, and more wonderful and efficacious because secret.  Their miracles were wrought upon external nature; the sun stood still, and the sea parted.  Ours are invisible, and are exercised upon the soul.  They consist in the sacraments, and they just do that very thing which the Jewish miracles did not.  They really touch the heart, though we so often resist their influence.  If then we sin, as, alas! we do, if we do not love God more than the Jews did, if we have no heart for those “good things which pass men’s understanding,” we are not more excusable than they, but less so.  For the supernatural works which God showed to them were wrought outwardly, not inwardly, and did not influence the will; they did but convey warnings; but the supernatural works which He does towards us are in the heart, and impart grace; and if we disobey, we are not disobeying His command only, but resisting His presence.

This is our state; and perhaps so it is that, as the Israelites for forty years hardened their hearts in the wilderness, in spite of the manna and the quails, and the water from the rock, so we for a course of years have been hardening ours in spite of the spiritual gifts which are the portion of Christians.  Instead of listening to the voice of conscience, instead of availing ourselves of the aid of heavenly grace, we have gone on year after year with the vain dream of turning to God some future day.  Childhood and boyhood are past; youth, perhaps middle age, perhaps old age is come; and now we find that we cannot “love the thing which God commandeth, and desire that which He doth promise;” and then, instead of laying the blame where it is due, on ourselves, for having hardened ourselves against the influences of grace, we complain that enough has not been done for us; we complain we have not enough light, enough help, enough inducements; we complain we have not seen miracles.  Alas! how exactly are God’s words fulfilled in us, which He deigned to speak to His former people.  “O inhabitants of Jerusalem, and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt Me and My vineyard.  What could have been done more to My vineyard that I have not done in it? wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?”

Let us then put aside vain excuses, and, instead of looking for outward events to change our course of life, be sure of this, that if our course of life is to be changed, it must be from within.  God’s grace moves us from within, so does our own will.  External circumstances have no real power over us.  If we do not love God, it is because we have not wished to love Him, tried to love Him, prayed to love Him.  We have not borne the idea and the wish in our mind day by day, we have not had it before us in the little matters of the day, we have not lamented that we loved Him not, we have been too indolent, sluggish, carnal, to attempt to love Him in little things, and begin at the beginning; we have shrunk from the effort of moving from within; we have been like persons who cannot get themselves to rise in the morning; and we have desired and waited for a thing impossible, to be changed once and for all, all at once, by some great excitement from without, or some great event, or some special season; something or other we go on expecting, which is to change us without our having the trouble to change ourselves.  We covet some miraculous warning, or we complain that we are not in happier circumstances, that we have so many cares, or so few religious privileges, or we look forward for a time when religion will come easy to us as a matter of course.  This we used to look out for as boys; we used to think there was time enough yet to think of religion, and that it was a natural thing, that it came without trouble or effort, for men to be religious as life went on; we fancied that all old persons must be religious; and now even, as grown men, we have not put off this deceit; but, instead of giving our hearts to God, we are waiting, with Felix, for a convenient season.

Let us rouse ourselves, and act as reasonable men, before it is too late; let us understand, as a first truth in religion, that love of heaven is the only way to heaven.  Sight will not move us; else why did Judas persist in covetousness in the very presence of Christ? why did Balaam, whose “eyes were opened,” remain with a closed heart? why did Satan fall, when he was a bright Archangel?  Nor will reason subdue us; else why was the Gospel, in the beginning, “to the Greeks foolishness”?  Nor will excited feelings convert us; for there is one who “heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it;” yet “hath no root in himself,” and “dureth” only “for a while.”  Nor will self-interest prevail with us; or the rich man would have been more prudent, whose “ground brought forth plentifully,” and would have recollected that “that night his soul” might be “required of him.”  Let us understand that nothing but the love of God can make us believe in Him or obey Him; and let us pray Him, who has “prepared for them that love Him, such good things as pass man’s understanding, to pour into our hearts such love towards Him, that we, loving Him above all things, may obtain His promises, which exceed all that we can desire.”