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THE CONCEPT OF APOKATASTASIS OR THE RESTORATION OF ALL THINGS IN JESUS
CHRIST ACCORDING TO GREGORY OF NYSSA
NB: This essay is by no means complete. I simply present it
as a series of reflections on a number of texts by Gregory of Nyssa related
to the term apokatastasis which can be developed at a future time. CONTENTS Chapter One: A Definition of Two Key Words Chapter Two: Migration Chapter Three: Gregory of Nyssa's Fundamental Metaphor Chapter Four: Theoria or "Seeing" Chapter Five: Diastema or "Interval" Chapter Six: The Corporate Nature of Apokatastasis Chapter Seven: Jesus Christ as "First Fruits" Conclusion Appendix A: References to Apokatastasis Appendix B: References to Anakephalaiosis Appendix C: References to Diastema CHAPTER ONE Apokatastasis or The Restoration of All Things in
Christ
Originally this manuscript emerged from a desire to make
available on the Internet the most important references to the Greek word apokatastasis(1)
as used by Gregory of Nyssa, a Christian theologian and bishop of Asia Minor
who flourished during the fourth century of our era. In brief, apokatastasis
means the reestablishment of both humankind and all creation to their
original integrity as intended by God. According to Christian teaching, sin
was responsible for corrupting human moral behavior, the debilitating effect
of which has extended not only to human relationships but to the physical
world. Despite this devastating consequence, the second century theologian of
Alexandria, Origen, maintains that God holds out the prospect of ultimate
salvation for every person. It was Origen who first developed the notion of apokatastasis
at some length and maintained the view that all punishment--both temporal and
in the spiritual world--serves to instruct rather than to condemn. Origen's
insight into apokatastasis, however, was rejected by a synod of
bishops at Constantinople in 543 since it implied the preexistence of souls(2). [Note:Actually it wasnt. The rejection occured prior to the Council and there is no evidence that the Pope approved it.]
Despite misgivings by the Church as a whole with regard to
the ambivalent character of apokatastasis, the Swiss theologian Hans
Urs von Balthasar points out that Gregory of Nyssa had refined it in light of
orthodox Christian teaching by emphasizing the unity of human nature and that
"le Christ total n'est autre que l'humanite totale"(3).
Consider, for example, an excerpt from the Commentary on the
Inscriptions of the Psalms where Gregory, like his predecessor
Origen, stresses the complex response by God which involves instruction as
opposed to the more human, simpler tactic of outright condemnation: If God's wrath cannot be endured, its action can be borne
with love. "Thus make known to us your right hand" that we may be
wise, not punished, by your teaching. Having earlier clarified these words,
we may now attend to their divinely inspired content. "For weakness
overtakes us, and we shall be chastened. Who knows the power of your wrath,
and who knows how to number his days because of the fear of your wrath? So
manifest your right hand, and those who are instructed in wisdom and in the
heart" [Ps 89.10]. This passage is welcome in relation to the grievous
words which follow. We are incapable of enduring the force of God's wrath due
to the weakness of our human nature against which sin militates, so we stand
in need of instruction. Let salvation instruct us through conversion rather
than by the punishment due to our sins. J.50(4)
One advantage of studying the implications of apokatastasis
as the restitution of all things in God reveals that many contemporary
opinions concerning the human person stem from a fractured, cynical
viewpoint. These views have various, complex sources but share a common
trait: disappearance of faith in a divine reality which effectively
intervenes in human affairs. The reflections of Gregory of Nyssa are valuable
here in that they echo across sixteen centuries with a refreshing modern
insight into God's union with human nature through the person of Jesus
Christ. Yet due to the huge temporal gap between the fourth century and our
position at the threshold of the third millennium, I list four obstacles
which may hinder the reader from fully appreciating Gregory of Nyssa's works:
1) despite a number of recent translations into English, some of Gregory's
theological writings (for example, Against Eunomius, On
the Making of Man and The Great Catechism) are in a
somewhat stilted style characteristic of the English language at the close of
the nineteenth century; 2) most of the important secondary sources on Gregory
of Nyssa are in French and German(5);
3) like many Church Fathers, Gregory's scriptural commentaries favor the
allegorical method. The modern mind, steeped as it is in an objective,
scientific approach, may balk at allegorical method as being too contrived
and hence irrelevant. Finally, 4) there is a lack of methodology in Gregory's
writings which makes it difficult to grasp his main ideas; instead, a person
is compelled to wade through a lot of material (and often convoluted
allegories) before getting a clear picture of his main themes. With this last observation in mind, I prefer to concentrate
upon several important themes flowing from Gregory's use of apokatastasis
because it is a word which embraces several tenets of his thought: the soul's
migration to God from the bonds of material reality, "seeing" (theoria(6))
or perceiving God's presence and finally, how our rootedness within space and
time (diastema(7))
affects this special type of seeing. What makes this all possible is that we
are made in God's image (eikon), a basic principle for Gregory's
reflections upon fallen human nature which Christ had redeemed. Although this
divine image lies at the heart of our humanity, our loss of the spontaneous
practice of virtue requires a process of "subjection" to God, hupotage.
Gregory develops this theme in a short but profound treatise based upon 1Cor
15.28 where St. Paul talks about Christ subjecting himself to the Father
after all things have been subjected to him. Realization of these insights as I have just outlined them
does not take place in vacuum; because we require words for their
description, I have drawn attention to an important intuition which Gregory
lifts from the writings of St. Paul which fleshes out his own ideas into
God's relationship with humanity. Although these notions share a common
unity, they require separate chapters; however, throughout the focus will
remain upon apokatastasis or that "restoration"(8)
of all things in Jesus Christ which is primarily effected through the act of
"seeing," theoria. By way of a scriptural introduction to the concept of apokatastasis,
I find it helpful to note the only two New Testament instances found within
the corpus of Gregory of Nyssa's writings: Mt 17.11-12(9):
He [Christ] replied, "Elijah does come, and he is to restore [apokatastesei(10)]
all things; but I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not
know him but did to him whatever they pleased. So also the Son of man will
suffer at their hands." Acts 3.20-1: ...and that he may send the Christ appointed for
you, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the time for establishing [apokatastaseos]
all that God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old. An important New Testament passage which does not contain the
word apokatastasis but one which Gregory of Nyssa finds essential to
its proper understanding is 1Cor 15.21-2: For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made
alive. But each in his own order: Christ the first fruits [aparche],
then at his coming those who belong to Christ. I will develop this theme in a later chapter but for the
moment wish to draw attention to the two phrases beginning with
"as" (hosper) and "so" (outos) which help
bridge not only the spacial-temporal gap but the moral and spiritual one
between the first man, Adam, and Jesus Christ. As I will illustrate later,
this parallel between two opposites, the first man and Christ as the
"first fruits" (phurama) which is bridged by the two adverbs
"as" and "so" constitutes the foundation upon which
Gregory of Nyssa develops his reflections on the drama of human redemption.
He does this by creating analogies put at the service of closing the
spacial-temporal gap or that diastema between Adam and Christ, a point
worth exploring in some detail. The two scriptural passages quoted just above containing the
word apokatastasis and which refer to Elijah are directly related to
the person of Jesus Christ and are rooted within the Old Testament. It is
interesting to note that Elijah (2Kg 1.9-12), along with Enoch (Gen 5.24(11)),
are the only two persons worthy of being taken up into heaven physically
without having to undergo death. Several passages from Gregory's writings are
worth noting in this respect: At one time the Israelites mourned Elijah whom God snatched
away from the earth [2Kg 2.1-11], but Elisha's fine sheepskin serves as a
consolation for the fact that he has departed. Now the wound is beyond cure
because Elijah was assumed and Elisha was not. Meletius,
J.452. Therefore an invisible power destroyed the Egyptian through
the miracles in the sea, and the text names this power "cavalry."
We assume this cavalry was the angelic host of which the prophet says
"You mounted your horses, and your cavalry is salvation" [Hab 3.8].
David also mentions a chariot of God saying "The chariots of God are ten
thousand fold" [Ps 67.17] to which are yoked the ten thousands of the
upright. Further, the power which took up Elijah and removed him from the
earth to the ethereal region is named a horse by Scripture [2 Kg 2.11]. The
text calls the prophet the chariot of Israel and its horseman. Song
Commentary, J.74-5. Certain stars of the divine eloquence are bright twinklings
and radiances of the soul's eyes. As the prophet says, they are as high as
the heavens above the earth [Ps 102.11]. If this is the case with regard to
our soul, Elijah's example shows us how our mind is taken up in a fiery
chariot [2 Kgs 2.11] and raised on high to that heavenly beauty. (We
understand this fire chariot as the Holy Spirit which the Lord had come to
cast upon the earth; in the likeness of tongues, it was divided among the
disciples). We will not despair from drawing near to the stars, I mean from
considering divine things which illumine our souls by heavenly, spiritual
utterances. Song Commentary, J.294. Do we dare to proceed further by speaking of the exalted
Elijah and to show that our teacher [Basil] resembles him? But he [Elijah]
was whisked away in a fiery chariot, conduced by fiery horses and transported
to the transcendent realm above [cf. 2Kg 2.11]. Let no one demand that human
nature (it cannot remain unharmed in the midst of fire; divine power
transports it above to that weightless realm from what is both heavy and
earthly) can shut out by its own words heavenly support and close it again by
its authority when it appears the right thing to do. For a considerable
period of time he went without food except rye baked in ashes and conserved
his strength for forty days [cf. 1Kg 19.6-8]. Basil, J.122.
Since neither the man [Christ] did not share our human nature
nor did the incorporeal God assume flesh, let [Apollinarius'] disciples and
followers of his error now state their position with regard to God's
incarnation: "But the Greeks and Jews will assent to our opinion if we
say that a divinized man was born of a woman as in the case of Elijah."
And who among the Greeks will admit to the truth of Elijah's miracles [2Kg
2.11]? Fire manifested itself in two forms: chariot and horses descended from
heaven, a movement contrary to their nature. Elijah was lifted up into the
flaming chariot and saved from being burned by this fire while he was assumed
along with the horses and chariot. If anyone accepts this as he should, he
will imply a figure of the mystery, that is, a prophecy of the Lord's
incarnation prefigured in this narrative. As fire tends upwards and the
divine power downward, Elijah, who was infused by heavenly fire, partakes of
its natural movement and is raised up on high. Thus the immaterial and
incorporeal essence, the power of the Most High, assumed a servant's form
through the Virgin and raised it up to his own sublimity, having transformed
it into a divine, immortal form. Anyone finding this difficult to accept
could not believe in Elijah's miracles, and the person who had earlier
learned that the truth had overshadowed [Elijah] would stubbornly refuse to
accept this truth. Against Apollinarius, J.169-70. I had mentioned that Enoch was the other person directly
assumed into heaven and as far as I know, Gregory of Nyssa refers to him only
once in conjunction with Elijah: We may suppose this to mean that every task begun by one
person is shared by many. Scripture says that Thobel was the discoverer of
things fashioned with iron, and all those who practice the making of iron
implements attribute it to him. It is the same with Abel as shepherd, Cain as
farmer, Nimrod who first knew about hunting, Noah as dresser of vines and
Enoch who first hoped in God. Holy Scripture teaches us here to follow the
example of one person. Therefore Elijah stands out as an eminent guide in his
zeal for God. Those who imitate his zeal follow in the footsteps of his
boldness; they become a herd of goats whose leader is the master of this
life. They are the glory and praise of the Church set as an ornament in the
hair; their lives have nothing to do with the senses. Song Commentary,
J.453 The fundamental notion permeating the five passages just
quoted is one of earthly elements being transported to an existence different
from their inherently dense nature. I offer the following outline which
distills the meaning of each excerpt: -snatched away from the earth. -removed him from the earth. -our mind is taken up in a fiery chariot and raised on high
to that heavenly beauty. -divine power transports it [the soul] above to that
weightless realm from what is both heavy and earthly. -fire manifests itself in two forms: chariot and horses
descended from heaven, a movement contrary to their nature. Although I have cited a number of inspiring texts from the
writings of Gregory of Nyssa, it remains to ask whether they have any
relevance to our all too familiar "earthly" existence, or are they
just fanciful exaggerations put at the service of enhancing rare characters
like Elijah and Enoch? One way of responding to this question is to explore
whether or not human nature contains an innate capacity for spiritual ascent
which matches the pattern originally laid out by these prophets. Should this
be true, such a goal ought to lie within our power. Their stories have a
general correspondence with more contemporary descriptions of spiritual
ascent as witnessed by a renewed interest in the writings of Gregory of Nyssa
not just by scholars but by persons earnest in their search for God(12).
Because such interest is fairly widespread nowadays there remains the task of
determining the most basic feature characteristic of Gregory's articulation
of the spiritual life also common to traditions which ascribe to belief in a
transcendent God, namely, that general pattern of passing from
"down" (earth) to "up" (heaven). Having delineated this
as perhaps the most important attribute of the spiritual quest, we can
examine other features which enhance it. Interestingly, the bishop of Nyssa
presents this ascent in terms of human relationships within the context of
virtuous qualities which counter the dissipative nature of base, immoral
behavior. In other words, a temporal and spacial pattern depicts those
qualities which are normally invisible to observation, a person's attitude
and state of mind. Despite the common thread to this method, later centuries of
Christian teaching on the spiritual life has been influenced by processes
which favor a more abstract, disembodied approach. Here as in medieval
scholasticism the tendency has been to favor invisible, more abstract
features garnered from human experience over our bodies' rootedness within
the physical world. Yet evidence from such persons as Mark Johnson, a
philosopher with special interest in language and metaphor, indicates that
employing features of the external world to describe our inner workings has
been overlooked in favor of an abstract, metaphysical view. This is due in
part to what Johnson calls the Objectivist tradition where "the decisive
line is drawn between the mental, conceptual, rational, cognitive, a priori,
and theoretical, on the one side, and the physical, perceptual, imaginative,
emotional, a posteriori, and practical, on the other side"(13).
In this opinion significance is credited to the former, a tendency which
underrates the corporeal features of human existence; in other words, we have
the foundation for a classic dualism between that which is considered
"spiritual" as opposed to that which is "natural."
It is not my intention to delineate the ramifications of this
cleavage which has been sufficiently documented; instead, I wish to bring
attention to it here in Chapter One because this essay will concentrate on
how Gregory of Nyssa uses objects from the physical world as vessels to reflect
God's life and love. Furthermore, Gregory desires to show that the pattern of
an "upward" journey or ascent lies within the reach of ordinary
Christians for whom the possibility of living unconditioned by any event,
person or object is the goal set forth for our imitation. Diastema, a
term Gregory employs for the spacial-temporal dimension, is that field which
allows an unlimited amount of events to unfold; our experience of its
structure is primarily horizontal, not vertical, for it moves from
the past to the future as common experience relates. Here we have an example
of what Mark Johnson calls "containment" where we move from some
place to one that may not yet be known(14)
to us as in leaving one room and entering another. For Gregory of Nyssa,
Elijah and Enoch are individuals who do not slavishly follow this well-tread
path but are pioneers because they trace out another form of movement. Their
example is uncommon not so much because the vertical path is arduous but
because the horizontal one has become so firmly entrenched in our minds
through an attachment...a conditioning...to a particular "path"
which has become habitual with the passage of time. To break out of this
habituated way requires a lengthy process of unconditioning or unlearning of
acquired habits. Thus the upward ascent resembles fire; it consumes
everything on the horizonal plane yet elevates us, like Elijah, upward toward
heaven, the realm of unconditioned freedom(15).
+
CHAPTER TWO The Concept of Migration
The bishop of Nyssa often views the assumption of human
nature into the heavenly realm in terms of a migration to one's true homeland
as embodied in the Old Testament figure of Elijah. Such a journey intimates
the various forms of passage delineated at the close of the last chapter.
Gregory presents it as a move from weighty or oppressive earthly existence to
one which is "weightless" and is therefore symbolic of a heavenly
life. Hence migration is a "going up" as opposed to the normal
lateral or horizontal forms of movement with which we are more familiar. In
addition to this, Elijah is seen with Moses at the Transfiguration conversing
with Jesus Christ, and the symbolism of the mountain and fire is by no means
inconsequential. I offer several excerpts containing the notion of migration
in Gregory of Nyssa's own words: Let us now attend to the words "Vanity of vanities, all
is vanity," and "What advantage is to man in his labor under the
sun?" In my opinion these words represent a soul stripped of its present
condition here below when it migrates [metoikizo] to the life it
yearns after. If a person pursues life's nobler aspects, he views his earlier
condition in a harsh light and despises his present experience in comparison
to what he has discovered. Commentary on Ecclesiastes,
J.291. But [Apollinarius] says, "the second man from heaven is
spiritual. This signifies that the man united with God lacks an intelligence
of his own." We should be able to refute this strange doctrine without
much difficulty. [Paul's] words, "as is the man of heaven so are those
who are of heaven" [1Cor 15.48] differ considerably with such a notion.
Persons who believe their origin lies in heaven call themselves heavenly. As
Paul says, they have migrated [methistemi] to the heavenly way of life
and resemble the heavenly [Christ]; indeed, no one who has embraced the faith
lacks reason. This comparison shows a necessary bond between [Christ] and men
by virtue of his human mind: "as is the man of heaven so are those who
are of heaven." But we confess that he was either fully invested with a
human mind or lacked it completely. Just as we see the attributes of an
earthly man at work in his offspring, so the Apostle says [Heb 4.15] in
reference to life's necessities that [Christ] was tempted in all things and
resembled us except by sin [1Cor 15.45]. The mind does not consist of sin yet
[Christ] must share every aspect of our human nature. The Apostle correctly
speaks of him in our human nature if we confess him to be made like us. In this
way he who shared this nature might fashion us into what he himself is. Against
Apollinarius, J.145-6. Because true goodness is clearly opposed to that which is not
good, we are faced with a contradiction. It follows that persons who separate
themselves from that which is not beautiful become attached to true beauty
which constantly and at all times remains good. Such a gesture have nothing
to do with the temporal order; rather, the good always preserves its own
integrity. The human soul migrates [meteimi] towards this good from
corporeal existence after it has exchanged the present good for another one
impossible to see clearly because we are burdened by this fleshly existence.
However, we can have a notion [of this change] and draw a certain parallel between
it and a possible withdrawal from that knowledge which pertains to this
present life. No longer does corporeal existence weigh us down nor are we
influenced by the weight of opposing elements, for this struggle within our
human constitution is equally distributed and maintains our health. Concerning
Those Who Have Died, J.34. As the various forms of all three Greek words indicate, the
concept of migration represents a continuous process of passing from one
existence with which we are acquainted to another (meta,
"after," "beyond") foreign to us. Gregory conceives such
passages in spacial terms (earth to heaven, down to up, heavy to light);
therefore it is only natural for him to transfer this essentially vertical
imagry to that moral passage from a life of sin to the practice of virtue, arete.
For Gregory passage to virtue is the true essence of our migration, and a
proper understanding of it in spacial terms is indispensable for its
practice. Since virtue is generally difficult to exercise, especially at the
outset, the bishop of Nyssa makes it more palatable for his listeners by
employing language with appropriate images for capturing their imagination.
Such language employs impressions which have the potential of reconciling
contradictory elements; in this instance Gregory is concerned with virtue and
its opposite, moral deficiency. Once our imaginations are disposed for
seizing virtue through the appealing terms of a migration from earth to
heaven, from what is heavy to that which is light, we acquire a more
spontaneous desire for having recourse to this imagry(16)
especially during those times when the practice of virtue becomes arduous. It
orientates and inspires our confused minds, thereby leading us step by step
"up" from our non-virtuous lives which Gregory associates with a
purely "earthly existence." Because migration is a journey from one place to another, it
embodies a special allure in that we are engaged in a process of leaving what
is familiar and advancing to foreign territory. Judging from his writings,
Gregory of Nyssa was sensitive to this tension and presented our passage to
virtue and divine life through attractive imagry which embodies a journey:
Those preparing to travel abroad have high expectations for
the coming voyage. When they bring their merchant ship out from port and the
helmsman directs the ship's prow towards the open sea, the sailors offer a
prayer at the voyage's start, asking God for a safe journey. Of chief concern
in their prayer is a gentle breeze to push their sails in the direction
desired by the pilot at the ship's stern. With a favorable wind, calm sea,
and gentle, rippling waves, the sea causes no distress, for the ship easily
flies over the waves. To the sailors' eyes is already present the hoped-for
wealth while their voyage is proceeding well and before any danger arises. I
use these examples as a kind of prologue, for what I mean is quite evident to
those receptive in listening. The vast sea represents contemplation [theoria]
of the divine words. From this voyage we expect great wealth; the Church is
this living vessel which expects the riches of divine guidance in all its
fullness. But the Song's text acting as pilot, does not touch the tiller
before prayer is offered to God by the entire crew so that the Holy Spirit's
power might breathe on us and put into motion the waves of our thoughts [anakinesai
ton noematon ta kumata]. In this way he guides our prayer as one directs
a voyage. Having thus traversed the open sea by contemplation [theoria],
we might traffic in the wealth of knowledge if by your prayers the Holy
Spirit strikes our sails. Commentary on the Song of Songs,
J.340-2. Note Gregory's remarks, "I use these examples as a kind
of prologue...the vast sea represents contemplation (theoria) of the
divine words." Here he uses the engaging imagry of a sea voyage which in
the ancient world not only encompassed that expectation I had mentioned
above, but an adventure fraught with danger. Nevertheless, the idea is the
same: reading the Song of Songs is for Gregory a journey par excellance
fraught with hazards which are more perilous since they affect the very
constitution of our souls. Here the likeness of a ship voyage which passes
over the "horizontal" ocean is transformed into a
"vertical" one where we ascend in our journey towards God aided by
the Holy Spirit who "puts into motion the wave of our thoughts." Theoria
or contemplation is that vehicle or ship enabling us to accomplish our
voyage. The "harbor" where these sailors of the Spirit come
to rest is for Gregory of Nyssa the angelic realm which he describes in the
following passages: Commentary on the Song of Songs
The Song's text readily employs words whose obvious meaning
indicates the enjoyment of carnal passion; it does not fall into any improper
meaning but leads us to the philosophy of divine things by means of chaste
concepts. It shows that we are no longer to be men with a nature of flesh and
blood; rather, it points to the life we hope for at the resurrection of the
saints, an angelic life free from all passion. J.30 This is the radiant, ripe cluster of grapes which warms its
form and sweetens the soul's senses in chastity. The vine's tendril is union
and kinship with eternal life. The growing shoots are the heavenly virtues
rising up to the height of the angels. J.60 We assume this cavalry was the angelic host of which the
prophet says "You mounted your horses, and your cavalry is
salvation" [Hab 3.8]. David also mentions a chariot of God saying
"The chariots of God are ten thousand fold" [Ps 67.17] to which are
yoked the ten thousands of the upright. Further, the power which took up
Elijah and removed him from the earth to the ethereal region is named a horse
by Scripture [2 Kg 2.11]. The text calls the prophet the chariot of Israel
and its horseman. J.75 After the resurrection we have been promised a life similar
to the angels, and he who has promised it does not lie. It follows,
therefore, the life in this world should be a preparation for the one we hope
for later. Though living in the flesh and passing through the field of this
world, we should not live according to the flesh nor be conformed to this
world; rather, we ought to meditate on the life to come while we are still in
this present one. Therefore, by imposing an oath, the bride confirms those
souls under instruction: while spending their lives in this
"field," they will look to the "powers" and imitate their
angelic purity by detachment. Thus is love aroused and wakened; that is to
say, it is elevated and continually spurred on to greater growth. God's good
will is done "on earth as it is in heaven" [Mt 6.10] when the
detachment of the angels is effected in us. J.134-5 The Word's voice is always one of power. As light shone at
the creation by his command, and as the firmament was constituted at his
bidding [Gen 1.2-24], the rest of creation appeared by his creative Word. In
the same way, when the Word bids the soul that has advanced to approach him,
it is immediately strengthened at his command and becomes what he wishes,
that is, changed into something divine; and from the glory which the soul
had, it is transformed into a loftier glory by a wonderful alteration. Thus
the angelic choir around the bridegroom marvels at the bride and exclaims
with admiration, "You have given us heart, our sister, our spouse"
[4.9]. For a state free from passion illumines the bride as well as the
angels; it gives her kinship and sisterhood with the spiritual powers.
Therefore, they say to her, "You have given us heart, our sister, our
spouse." J.253-4 When a person teems with desire or burns with rage, he uses
reason to quench the passions. It is the same with the sleep of this present life:
if you place the sober cinnamon of reason in your mouth, you will clearly and
accurately bring forth the meaning it contains. This resembles the angels who
do not sleep but are watchful. You therefore imitate by truth of speech the
sleepless angels who do not shrink away from truth by any fantasies of the
imagination. J.287 He who has girded himself with temperance lives in the light
of a pure conscience, for his life is illumined by the lamp of confidence.
His soul remains sleepless and undeceived under truth's rays, and he is not
idly occupied by useless dreams. If we achieve this with the Word's
assistance, we will attain the angelic life. For the divine precepts compare
us to angels saying, "And you ought to be like men waiting for their master
to return from the marriage feast, in order that when he comes and knocks,
they will immediately open the door for him" [Lk 12.36]. J.317-8 Commentary on the Inscriptions of the
Psalms Everything considered earthly, dumb, and speechless joins the
sound of its own chords to the great voice of the heavenly choruses. The
stretched chords in such an instrument are steadfastness and immovability
before evil in every virtue. The virtues unite the cymbal's pleasing harmony with chords when the sound of cymbals
arouses our eagerness for the divine choir. To me this signifies the union of
our nature with the angels. "Praise the Lord with the sound of
cymbals." I understand this as the union of the angelic [nature] with
the human when our human nature attains its original state and gives forth
that sweet sound in union with others in thanksgiving. J.66 When all creation above and below will join to form one
dance, the pleasant sound from our symphony will complete what has been
sundered, for sin now divides the spiritual creation which resembles a
cymbal. When our humanity will be united to the angels and when the divine
battle-order lifts it out of the present turmoil, it will sing a victorious
song of triumph at the bloody defeat of the enemy. Then every spirit will
praise God's grace forever, continually magnifying his blessedness by further
graces. J.68 There was a time when only one choir with a spiritual nature
existed which looked to one leader of the song and executed this song in
accord with the harmony given by his command. Afterwards sin crept in and
dissolved the divine harmony of the chorus. It brought about the fall of our
first parents who had danced along with the angelic powers by tripping their
feet by the slip of deception. Hence, man was deprived of unity with the
angels because his fall had dissolved this unity. Fallen man needs to exert
much toil and labor. By struggling against his fall, he might again rise to
receive his rewards, the divine choir, the fruit of victory against his foe.
J.87 Whenever you hear the inscription "For Maeleth"
joined to "For the end," you then know the advise symbolically
offered to you and do not succumb to temptations in conflict; instead, you
keep in mind the goal of your victory. This victory consists in being
numbered in the angelic choir and to have your soul cleansed from the assault
of temptations. The Lord tells us something similar with regard to Lazarus
[LK 16.19+]. Lazarus kept himself safe from falling by exercising patience in
calamities. Once his tent [life] was loosed, and having overcome the
adversary, he immediately entered the angels' presence. "The poor man
[Lazarus] dies and was carried away by the angels' [Lk 16.22]. This is the
chorus, the journey with the angels, and the bosom of the patriarch [Abraham]
who received Lazarus in the radiant joy of the chorus' harmony. J.87 Therefore, the person who puts to death this force in his own
life exacts vengeance upon this evil. He sees the heavens, the magnificence
above them, and the dignity of our nature placed in the same order. By reason
of his position, man has domination over irrational beasts and is made a
little less than the angels by comparison. Man therefore takes precedence
over irrational beasts and is associated with the angels. J.123 These passages which contain references to the angels are
intended to show their connection with certain themes I have already
abstracted for greater clarity and italicized as follows: -the resurrection of the saints, an angelic life free from
all passion. -the heavenly virtues rising up to the height of the angels. -this cavalry was the angelic host of which the prophet says
"You mounted your horses, and your cavalry is salvation." -we have been promised a life similar to the angels. -imitate their angelic purity by detachment. -the angelic choir around the bridegroom. -the angels who do not sleep but are watchful. -For the divine precepts compare us to angels. -the union of the angelic [nature] with the human when our
human nature original state. -our first parents who had danced along with the angelic
powers. -the journey with the angels, and the bosom of the patriarch
[Abraham]. -a little less than the angels by comparison. Now that Gregory has established the spiritual life in terms
of going from "down" (earth) to "up" (heaven), he
enhances his foundation for erecting various metaphors and descriptions of
the heavenly life because he is describing a journey not through diastema,
the spacial-temporal realm, but one which is devoid of place-to-place
movement. Gregory does this by having access to the concept of perpetual
progress, epektasis, which he delineates in The Life of Moses:
All heavenly bodies that receive a downward motion [horme]...are
rapidly carried downwards of themselves, provided that any surface on which
they are moving is graded and sloping and that they meet no obstacle to
interrupt their motion. Similarly, the soul advances in the opposite
direction lightly and swiftly moving upwards once it is released from the
sensuous and earthly attachments, soaring from the world below up towards the
heavens. And if nothing comes from above to intercept its flight [horme],
seeing that it is of the nature of Goodness to attract those who raise their
eyes towards it, the soul keeps rising ever higher and higher, stretching
with its desire [epithumia sunepekteinomene] for heavenly things
"to those that are before," as the Apostle tells us, and thus it
will always continue to soar ever higher. Because of what it has already
attained, the soul does not wish to abandon the heights that lie beyond it.
And thus the soul moves ceaselessly upwards, always reviving its tension for
its onward flight by means of the progress it has already realized. Indeed,
it is only spiritual activity that nourishes its force by exercise; it does
not slacken its tension by action but rather increases it. This is the reason
why we say that the great Moses, moving ever forwards, did not stop in his
upward climb. He set no limit to his rise to the stars. But once he had put
his foot upon the ladder of which the Lord had leaned, as Jacob tells us, he
constantly kept moving to the next step; and he continued to go ever higher
because he always found another step that lay beyond the highest one that he
had reached(17)
. Note the forward-looking dynamic of the italicized words
which I now outline for greater clarity: -swiftly moving upward -soaring from -keeps rising -stretching..."to those that are before" -continue to soar ever higher -moves ceaselessly upwards -onward flight -does not slacken its tension -moving ever forwards, did not stop in his upward climb -he set no limits to his rise -ladder -constantly kept moving to the next step -continued to go ever higher -always found another step that lay beyond the highest one
that he had reached The astounding amount of words dealing with motion enhances
Gregory's teaching on the spiritual life and shows how he employs epektasis
which translates as "stretching with desire for heavenly things to those
that are before."(18)
Surely the bishop of Nyssa is speaking from personal experience, and what
saves him from lapsing into a spirituality conceived as an intellectual
ascent is his emphasis upon desire which in the Moses text
is epithumia. Compare the excerpt above with one from Gregory's Song
Commentary which also treats epithumia in connection with
forward-looking accent. Note that while this passage speaks in terms similar
to epektasis, the Greek term is not used here: Although the stage attained [of letting the Word enter one's
heart] is indeed greater than what a person had earlier, this stage does not
limit his good; rather, the limit [peras] of his achievement becomes a
beginning [arche] for the discovery of higher blessings. The person
rising never stands still. He moves from one beginning [arche] to
another [arche], for the beginning [arche] of even greater
blessings is never limited. The desire [epithumia] of a soul thus
rising never remains in its knowledge, but by an ever greater desire [epithumia],
it moves onwards. The soul thus progresses through higher realms towards the
unbounded. J.247 The key sentence, "The limit of his achievement becomes
a beginning for the discovery of higher blessings," represents an
experience difficult to recount without having recourse to the practice of theoria
or contemplation which enables us to perceive the paradox of an
"end" miraculously being transformed into a "beginning."
Such theoria permits the language of paradox, so typical of the
spiritual life, to become more comprehensible. Note that Gregory uses the
word "beginning" (arche) four times to stress the absence of
memory with regard to previous stages of growth in awareness of God. This
absence of the recollective faculty is important because our awareness as
individually existing persons rests upon the accumulation of memories not
only from our past personal experiences but from those exerted by our
families and culture. In fact, memory is the source of our perceptions and
defines an individual with regard to other persons. On the other hand,
Gregory of Nyssa stresses the role of forgetfulness which plays an integral
part in his more mature works on the spiritual life. It should be noted that
such forgetting is one half of the equation; "straining forward" is
the other half. In this light, epektasis should be considered as a
constant "beginning" apart from which we have no end. Because
Gregory's insight is important I present several passages from his Commentary
on the Song of Songs containing the passage, Phil 3.13 ("...but
one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what
lies ahead"): The souls, therefore, draw to themselves a desire for their
immortal bridegroom and follow the Lord God, as it is written [Hos 11.10].
The cause of their love is the scent of the perfume to which they eternally
run; they stretch out to what is in front, forgetting what is behind.
"We shall run after you toward the scent of your perfumes" [1.4].
J.39 Neither is it limited, nor can it be circumscribed in its
growth towards the good; however, its present state of goodness, even if
especially great and perfect, is only the beginning of a more transcendent,
better stage. The Apostle's words are thus verified: stretching out to what
lies before is related to forgetfulness of earlier accomplishments [Phil
3.13]. The good which is superior to the one already attained holds the
attention of those participating in it while not allowing them to look at the
past; by enjoying what is more worthy, their memory of inferior things is
blotted out. J.174 When the great Apostle Paul gave an account to the
Corinthians of his lofty vision he doubted his human nature, that is, whether
he was in the body or in the spirit. He testifies "I consider myself not
to have reached [the goal], but I stretch forward to what lies in front of
me, forgetting what went before me" [Phil 3.13]. It is clear that Paul
alone knew what laid beyond that third heaven (for Moses himself did not
speak of it in his cosmogony). After hearing the unutterable mysteries of
paradise, Paul still continued to move higher and did not cease to ascend. He
never allowed the good already attained to limit his desire. Paul teaches us
here, I believe, that the blessed nature of the good is eternally much than
what we have received while what lies beyond our comprehension is always
boundless. J.245 Sleep brings about forgetfulness of anxieties; it calms
fears, softens rage, slackens the tension from bitter experiences, and makes
one unaware of evils. Therefore, we have learned from the bride that she has
risen higher and boasts, "I sleep but my heart is awake." J.312
Let us recapitulate the sense of the text. The soul which
looks to God and conceives that desire for incorruptible beauty always has a
new desire for the transcendent, and it is never dulled by satiety. Such a
soul never ceases to stretch forth to what lies before, going out from her
present stage to what lies ahead. Anything great and marvelous always seems
inferior in comparison to what succeeds it, since what the bride has found
seems more beautiful than her earlier discoveries. Thus Paul died each day
[1Cor 15.13], because at all times he partook of a new life, being dead to
the past and forgetful of previous things. J.366 I distill the meaning of each passage by the following
outline which shows more clearly that Gregory's concept of forgetfulness
entails past events and deeds regardless of their merit: -forgetting what is behind -forgetfulness of earlier accomplishments -their memory of inferior things is blotted out -forgetting what went before me -forgetfulness of anxieties -being dead to the past and forgetful of previous things
Such forgetfulness is neither a repression nor a suppression
of unpleasant memories which may have been true with St. Paul; his experience
as a persecutor of Christians could have played a role in formulating his
insight recorded in Phil 3.13 quoted just above. Whether or not earlier
humiliating experiences influence our present behavior, they assume a
subordinate position with regard to the practice of theoria whose
repeated practice makes the process of migration, of passing into an unknown
territory, an increasingly attractive image for spiritual advancement.
Now that Gregory has taken words and images founded upon
temporal motion for describing movement on the transcendent plane through the
important concept of epektasis, of stretching forward, he is in a
position to explain more clearly his concept of desire. His insight into such
epithumia provides the springboard for our movement and can take
either one or two directions, towards sensuality or things spiritual. I
present a number of samples from two of Gregory's works which are quite vivid
in their description of these two directions: Life of Moses(19)
Since, then, those who know that is good by nature, desire
participation in it [God as absolute virtue], and since this good has no
limit, the participant's desire [epithumeton] itself necessarily has
no stopping place but stretches out with the limitless. p.31 The Lord teaches the same thing in the Gospel, all but
explicitly calling on us to kill the firstborn of the Egyptian evils when he
commands us to abolish lust [epithumia] and anger and to have no more
fear of the stain of adultery or the guilt of murder. Neither of these things
would develop of itself, but anger produces murder and lust [epithumia]
produces adultery. p.76 While in this way Scripture gives us through figures a
scientific understanding of the nature of the soul, profane learning also
places it before the mind, dividing the soul into the rational, the
appetitive [epithumetikon]. Of these parts we are told that the spirit
and the appetite [epithumia] are placed below, supporting on each side
the intellectual part of the soul, while the rational aspect is joined to
both so as to keep them together and to be held up by them, being trained for
courage by the spirit and elevated to the participation in the Good by the
appetite [epithumia]. pp.76-7 Hope always draws the soul from the beauty which is seen to
what is beyond, always kindles the desire for the hidden through what is
constantly perceived. Therefore, the ardent lover of beauty, although
receiving what is always visible as an image of what he desires [epithumia],
yet longs to be filled with the very stamp of the archetype. p.114 Those who pass through the mystical water of the whole
phalanx of evil--such as covetousness, unbridled desire [epithumia],
rapacious thinking, the passion of conceit and arrogance, wild impulse,
wrath, anger, malice, envy, and all such things. p.84 Covetousness is another such master who provides no relief to
the bondsman, but even if the one in bondage should slave in subservience to
the commands of the master and acquire for him what he desires [epithumia],
the servant is always driven on to more. p.85 If nothing comes from above to hinder its upward thrust (for
the nature of the Good attracts to itself those who look to it), the soul
rises ever higher and will always make its flight yet higher--by its desire [epithumia]
of the heavenly things straining ahead for what is still to come, as the
Apostle says [Phil 3.13]. p.113 He shone with glory. And although lifted up through such
lofty experiences, he is still unsatisfied in his desire [epithumia]
for more. He still thirsts for that with which he constantly filled himself
to capacity, and he asks to attain as if he had never partaken, beseeching
God to appear to him, not according to his capacity to partake, but according
to God's true being. p.114 This truly is the vision of God: never to be satisfied in the
desire [epithumia] to see him. But one must always, by looking at what
he can see, rekindle his desire [epithumia] to see more. Thus, no
limit would interrupt growth in the ascent to God, since no limit to the Good
can be found nor is the increasing of desire [epithumia] for the Good
brought to an end because it is satisfied. p.116 On Virginity(20)
Thus while it [virginity] is the channel which draws down the
Deity to share man's estate, it keeps wings for man's desires [epithumia]
to rise to heavenly things, and is a bond of union between the Divine and
human, by its mediation bringing into harmony these existences so widely
divided. p.345, col. 1 In the same way, the mind of man, enclosed in the compact
channel of an habitual continence, and not having any side issues, will be
raised by virtue of its natural powers of motion to an exalted love [epithumia].
p.352, col. 1 The beauty noticed there will be but as the hand to lead us
to the love [epithumia] of the supernal Beauty whose glory the heavens
and the firmament declare, and whose secret the whole creation sings. p.356,
col. 1 It is easy to see the importance of desire, epithumia,
when Gregory depicts our ascent to God; even though the object may not be
present to the person in whom this desire is active, our personal experience
with such matters reveals that for all practical purposes it is already
present. Desire for a coveted object or person has such impact upon one's
behavior that memories of it from the past are projected into the present as
though the beloved were already here and now; that distance or intervening diastema
is bridged (the same can apply to the unfulfilled future). Epithumia
is therefore a kind of seeing, a theoria, of the beloved not with
physical eyes but with one's whole attention, even in those
instances when circumstances cloud one's vision. We have this epithumia as a limitless resource which,
as noted above, can follow one of two directions. Regardless of the choice
made, epithumia by its very nature appears contrary to that
detachment, apatheia, of which Gregory speaks and which is another
characteristic of a person ascending to God. I conclude this chapter by
listing several passages from his Song Commentary which show
how Gregory employs this term: I will take up again what I said at the start of this homily:
let no one who is passionate, fleshly and still smelling of the foul odor of
the old man [2 Cor 2.16] drag down the significance of the divine thoughts
and words to beastly, irrational thoughts. Rather, let each person go out of
himself and out of the material world. Let him ascend into paradise through
detachment, having become like God through purity. Then let him enter into
the inner sanctuary of the mysteries revealed in this book [the Song of
Songs]. J.25 What could be more paradoxical than to make nature purify
itself of its own passions and teach detachment in words normally suggesting
passion? Solomon does not speak of the necessity of being outside the flesh's
impulses of mortifying our bodily limbs on earth nor of cleansing our mouths
of talk of passion; rather, he disposes the soul to be attentive to purity
through words which seem to indicate the complete opposite, and he indicates a
pure meaning through the use of sensuous language. J.29 If a person should gather the aroma of every sweet flower
from the various meadows of virtue and make his life fragrant through the
good odor of his conduct and thus become perfect in every way, such a person
would not have it in his nature to look steadily upon the Word of God as upon
the sun; rather he sees it within himself as in a mirror. For the rays of
that true, divine virtue shine forth in a pure life by the out-flow of
detachment and make the invisible visible to us and the inaccessible
comprehensible by depicting the sun in the mirror of our souls. J.90 Indeed we are not ignorant of the mystery contained in these
words, that is, how St. Paul was a myrrh-hearing tree who was daily put to
death [1Cor 15.31] and who put himself under death's sentence; being fragrant through purity and
detachment he became a scent of life to those who were saved. J.307 +
CHAPTER THREE Gregory of Nyssa's Fundamental Metaphor
The Christian tradition accommodates many ways of describing
our relationship with God, chief among them is the theme of ascent which
Gregory uses after the example of Elijah(21).
This common thread of "going up" implies a migration, a leaving
behind of what is familiar in favor of the unknown; a preferred model used by
Gregory of Nyssa is Abraham who left his homeland for a new one which God had
appointed for him and his descendants: The Song thus says, "Behold, you are fair, my companion,
behold, you are fair" [4.1]. For the bride has imitated the Lord's love
for mankind, and a young maiden is summoned to go out like Abraham--each
maiden from her respective land and family with regard to the senses--that
she may see the chaste bridegroom crowned with the Church. Truly the bride becomes a companion of the Lord's goodness since she drew
near to God through love. Thus the text says to her, you are beautiful by having drawn
near to beauty by your own noble choice. Commentary on the Song of Songs,
J.215 The foundation upon which Gregory builds his theme of
spiritual ascent is 1Cor 15.21-3: "For as by a man came death, by a man
has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also
in Christ shall all be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ the
first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ."(22)
A better picture of how Gregory constructs metaphors to demonstrate the
relationship between the divine and human spheres emerges more clearly from
an outline of the verses just quoted: As was the man [Adam] --> so are those
who are of the dust and as is the man of heaven [Christ]
--> so are those who are of heaven
Here we have a good summary of the process of restoration of
all things in Christ, apokatastasis, the goal of our migration
"to the heavenly way of life" (Apollinarius
J.145-6, above) which effects that "necessary bond" between us and
Jesus Christ. The course along which such migration proceeds is an upward one
as represented by the prophet Elijah's ascent. Gregory of Nyssa's other
model, Abraham, is not delineated according to this upward pattern, but he is
important in that he illustrates the continuous act of forsaking an earlier
form of life on the earthly plane which achieves fulfillment in the person of
Elijah. Even in Abraham's case, who undertook an outward form of migration,
his true voyage was nevertheless an upward one. In order to grasp the second part of Gregory's foundational
insight mentioned just above, features which apply to Jesus Christ, it is
important that we experience fully the imperfect condition signified by Adam
("dust"). Not only does this involve full awareness of our
mortality and all it connotes but an appreciation of how the positive side of
earthly existence may suggest a suitable image of that which is invisible.
Usually the first step of obtaining knowledge about whatever happens to
escapes immediate perception consists in realizing the inherent limitations
of our sense faculties even if we do not yet make an immediate transition to
transcendent reality. In other words, when confronted with the unknown there
is operative within our minds and senses a tendency to make comparisons
between that which is familiar and that which we have partial or vague
knowledge. It is precisely here that Gregory of Nyssa sees the book of Ecclesiastes
as having a formative role in making us conscious of those limitations we run
up against in daily life primarily through the power of simple
observation whether of ourselves, other persons or processes in nature.
Like the Preacher, Gregory ascribes the word "vanity" to the
limitations characteristic of life when we realize that they offer only so
much. At the beginning of his Commentary on this book the
bishop of Nyssa defines vanity as follows: "Vanity of vanities," says Ecclesiastes, "all is
vanity" [1.2]. Vanity may be described as something which lacks
existence but has substance only in the utterance of this word. The reality
behind the word is non-existent; only the letters transmit a useless, empty
sound. These meaningless sounds randomly strike the ear much as in a game
when we create names which lack meaning. This is one form of vanity. Another
refers to persons who zealously accumulate objects with no goal in mind. For
example, childrens' sand buildings, the shooting at stars with arrows,
trapping the wind and racing with one's shadow while trying to reach its
head. If we find other similar examples, they all fall under the term
"vanity." Often human custom calls vanity the looking toward a goal
and the pursuit of something profitable. If a person then does something
contrary or foolish, he invests his energy to no avail. This is too is called
vanity. We usually say in such circumstances, "I have labored, hoped and
worked in vain." We will not examine each correct use of vanity; rather,
we will briefly deal with the significance of this term. Vanity is either a
senseless word, thoughtless action, unwise counsel, zeal lacking a goal or
anything disadvantageous. J.281-2 The last sentence mentions five aspects of
"vanity," all of which are related to the inherently limited nature
of corporeal existence, the chief one of interest to Gregory of Nyssa being
"(the accumulation of) objects with no goal in mind." In light of
1Cor 15.21 outlined earlier, we may situate the hoarding of material goods
under the phrase "As was the man (Adam)" whose essence is
"dust." This tendency to stockpile possessions is indicative of a
focus upon the material benefits of life without taking into consideration
alternate choices. We should not view in insolation Gregory's observation
with regard to the negative consequences of "vanity" here and in
other parts of Ecclesiastes. Instead, he is careful to see
that the book of Proverbs with its instruction in the ways of virtuous living
remains primary, after which a person advances to an awareness of
"vanity" depicted in Ecclesiastes: Not all periods of life according to the flesh are capable of every natural operation; nor do our lives adva |
