Cessation and Continuation: Have the Miracles Ceased or Are We Just Cynics

The debate between cessation and continuation is one that has been argued and is echoed throughout theological discourse across centuries. Are the miraculous gifts of the Spirit—prophecy, healing, and speaking in tongues—still active today, or did they cease with the apostolic age? Scripture and theologians offer insights into both perspectives.

The Case for Continuation

Many point to the words of Jesus in John 14:12 as a promise that the miraculous would not only continue but would be magnified: "Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father." This verse has often been interpreted as an assurance that the power of God, manifested through the Spirit in us, the church, would persist one day to the ends of Earth.

The apostle Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians, speaks of the gifts of the Spirit as active and necessary for the edification of the church. In 1 Corinthians 12:7-11, Paul lists these gifts, emphasizing that "to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good." The Spirit's work, according to Paul, is not confined but is a continuous presence in the life of the church. In James 5:14-15, he encourages the elders of the church to pray over the sick and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord. Outside the Bible, prominent figures like John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, believed in the continuation of spiritual gifts. He argued that any cessation of gifts was due to the decline in faith, not the completion of the canon of Scripture.

The Case for Cessation

The argument for cessation also finds its roots in 1 Corinthians (13:8-10), where Paul writes, “where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears." Could this passage suggest that the miraculous gifts were actually temporary, intended to serve the early church until the fullness of God's revelation was established? Some theologians, like B.B. Warfield, argue that the purpose of miracles was to authenticate the message of the apostles and the early church. Once the canon of Scripture was complete, there was no longer a need for these signs. Warfield posed that the miraculous gifts were a "sign of the apostles," and with the completion of the apostolic era, these signs ceased.

Over time, reports of miracles and prophetic gifts have notably decreased (according to whom you speak with), particularly after the early church period. Theologians like John Calvin saw this as evidence of cessation. Calvin suggested that these gifts were given for the founding of the church and were no longer necessary after its establishment. He believed that the church, now grounded in the Word, does not require the same miraculous signs.

Cessation or a Jaded Church?

While the cessationist argument holds that the miraculous gifts of the Spirit were specific to the apostolic age, we cannot ignore that miracles still occur. They may not always manifest as grand displays of supernatural power, but rather in quiet, everyday moments where God's presence is felt in the ordinary. Though, for some, they are grand displays: a disease vanished from a tumor-stricken body; a near-miss of a bullet; a baby born from a barren womb—not to mention a shockingly generous tax return, unclaimed property check, or the placement of the right person at the right time in a multitude of situations.

Do we really serve a God who wants us to believe these are all coincidence? After pouring through the Bible, attending Sunday school lessons, listening to sermons, and offering a lifetime of prayers, does God really want us to believe that getting a raise directly after we discovered asbestos in our sheetrock wasn’t Him reminding us that He knows our needs and will fulfill them, full stop? (Matthew 6: 31-33)

Did God Really Want Paul to Be the Last Paul?

Consider Paul's "thorn in the flesh" from 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. Paul describes his persistent struggle of persecution as he shared the Gospel throughout the region, a struggle that God did not remove despite his pleas. Instead, God told him, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Paul became even more reliant on God, who, out of His abundance of love, protected and sustained Paul. Thus, His power was made perfect or fully realized. This could highlight the theory that our limitations can be a vessel for experiencing God's power more clearly. But perhaps even more profound is that this fully realized power of God in the midst of Paul’s struggle gave him the experience necessary to be able to look eye to eye with other struggling Christians, and through the Spirit, serve, counsel, and speak in ways that ushered God into their lives exactly as they needed it delivered for them to believe.

Aren’t we capable of such ministry today?

When a parent dies, God’s grace during our grief aides us to know what to say when a friend’s parent dies, does it not? Is our spiritual service to others, born from our pain, not proof positive that our “thorns” can manifest into service for others, service that brings light into darkness, service that points to God, service that is apostolic in 2024? Did God really want Paul to be the last Paul?

What of the charismatic communities across the globe that practice the laying on of hands when someone is sick, preparing for a difficult mission like a military post, or even just a sign of the cross on the forehead of a five-year-old on her first day of kindergarten? Jesus emphasizes in Matthew 17:20 that even a small amount of genuine faith can achieve great things, illustrating the power and potential of faith in God's ability to accomplish what seems impossible. Did Matthew edit out “but only for the next 100 years, fellas.” Doubtful.

Maybe we agree that through our pain we can be prophets today, and that our faith can open the gates for the impossible to be possible, but where does that leave speaking in tongues of Spirit? Are those folks just practicing emotional or psychological exercises rather than a true manifestation of the Holy Spirit? Perhaps, but maybe not. One could argue that speaking in tongues is a personal edification and a way to strengthen one’s relationship with God, a deeply personal language only known between the believer and God. We don’t all fold our towels the same way. Some of us roll them, some of us trifold them; why can’t the same be said of how we speak to God? And what if modern-day speaking in tongues is, like Paul, simply just knowing exactly what to say to a downtrodden brother or sister who has hit rock bottom?

So I ask you, dear reader who has read this far: have we become so cynical, so selfish with the Word, that we can’t conceive of a cashier at Kroger saying something prophetic, a prayer bringing about a healing, and a tongue rolling off a love letter to our magnificent creator?

Plausible Facts

We know from centuries of translation after translation, theological study after study, that "completeness" generally refers to spiritual maturity and fullness in Christ when He returns and a new Heaven and new Earth become one magnificent holiness. From my view out of my window at a world divided, people more bitter with one another by the day, we are not complete. We have a ways to go. Furthermore, we cannot deny the personal testimonies of miraculous interventions and instances where scientific explanations fall short. From the grand example of the thirty-three miners trapped underground for 69 days in Chile, successfully rescued through an extraordinary international effort, to your father’s miraculous healing that didn’t make the CNN top story, God is at work in both whispers and shouts. Yet, some have even said that God is once again as silent as He was in the 400 years between the Old and New Testaments. But was He really silent then? Consider Simeon, who was promised by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before seeing the Messiah. When Jesus was presented at the temple as a child, Simeon recognized Him as the promised Savior and declared that he was now ready to die; his promise had been fulfilled. Despite a perceived silence, God was actively at work during Simeon's lifetime, behind the scenes, drawing near, keeping His Word alive, and still producing prophets.

He wasn’t truly silent then, was he? So why would He be now?

Seeing God's Splendor in One Another

If God loves us today as much as He did when He gave His only son to die for our salvation, why would He cease to communicate with us in ways He knows to work? Good fathers don’t hold back encouragement from their kids, so why would the greatest father of all time? Perhaps it is not that God has ceased His miraculous works, prophetic messengers, and tongues that cross language barriers, but that our understanding of miracles has changed because the flesh is as fleshy and conflicting with the Spirit as ever. In a world of cynics where the extraordinary is often dismissed as coincidence, we must open our eyes to the splendor of God at work in and through one another.

We can all be Peters, Pauls, Annas, and Joannas. Don’t let skepticism get the last word. Instead, let’s be honest with ourselves and like the father in Matthew 9:24, say: "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

Annie D. Stutley lives and writes in New Orleans, La. She edits several small publications and contributes to various print and online magazines. Her blog, "That Time You," was ranked in the Top 100 Blogs by FeedSpot. To read more of her work, go to herwebsite, or follow her at@anniedstutley orAnnie D. Stutley-writeron Facebook.

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