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Origen of Alexandria and apokatastasis:
Some Notes on the Development of a Noble Notion
Origen of Alexandria
(185-254 C.E.) was the greatest humanist theologian of the early Patristic
era. He was active during a period of great intellectual confusion among
Christians, when Gnosticism was the dominant intellectual force, and nascent
orthodoxy was struggling to find a voice. Origen held a firm conviction that
not a single rational being will be lost to the darkness of ignorance and
sin. Even the most recalcitrant sinner, he argued, will eventually attain
salvation. The fire of punishment is not an instrument of eternal torment,
but of divine instruction and correction. Since the soul is essentially
rational, it will eventually be convinced of the truth of the divine
pedagogy. When this conviction arises, salvation and deification will follow.
The word used to describe this universal salvation was apokatastasis,
"restoration of all things." This term occurs in
only a single New Testament passage;[1] its provenance is not intrinsically
Christian or even Jewish, but Hellenistic, and bound up with the cosmology
and anthropology of the era - a system of belief which Origen, in his day,
was obliged to undermine in the interest of Christian teaching. Before
examining the apokatastasis doctrine in the works of Origen, we would
do well to look back to the Hellenistic antecedents, which are to be found
among the Stoic philosophers, Greco-Egyptian astrologers, the Hermetic
school, and Gnostics. I. Pre-Christian
Ideas Concerning apokatastasis The earliest
philosophical occurrence of the term apokatastasis is to be found in
Empedocles, where it refers to the eternal relation of Love and Strife in the
maintenance of the cosmic order. [2] The term also occurs in the
pseudo-Platonic treatise Axiochus in reference to the "revolutions of
the stars." [3] But this is a later, Hellenistic-era work, not from
Plato's pen, and therefore representative of later conceptions. The first truly
conceptual use of this term is to be found in the writings - now only
fragmentary - of the early Stoic thinkers, particularly Chrysippus, who had a
special attachment to Babylonian astronomy, with its theory of cosmic cycles
and eternal recurrence. [4] Already in Plato, however, we find a notion of
distinct cosmic cycles or ages; [5] but a rigorous idea of eternal
recurrence, involving a notion of cosmic culmination and reconstitution,
was articulated for the first time by the Stoics. Stoicism The Stoic idea was
based upon an astronomical doctrine according to which the return (apokatastasis)
of the planets to their proper "celestial signs" initiates the
conflagration (ekpurôsis), which is the reduction of the entire cosmos
to its primal element (fire), after which follows the rebirth of all existing
things. [6] This destruction and rebirth is connected effectively with the
divine logos that guides the cosmos and preserves it in stability (katastasis).
"Universal reason," according to the Stoics, eventually "dries
up everything" and absorbs and contains all unique expressions of
be(com)ing. [7] According to the
Stoics, there is no room for autonomous expression outside the closed system
of the cosmos. Each human being, they argued, receives his or her station in
life from the divine logos, and a virtuous life consists in merely accepting
one's allotted station. The cosmic principle or power responsible for such
allotment was identified by the Stoics as heimarmenê ("fate"
or "destiny"). It is right and proper for human beings to remain in
harmony with this power, they argued, since it stems from divine reason (logos).
When the human being attempts to strive against heimarmenê, this
"fate" is then experienced as anankê (constraint or
necessity). [8] There were three
important responses to this highly influential doctrine in the Hellenistic
era: astrology, and the Hermetic and Gnostic schools (which were influenced
heavily by astrological theories). Astrology While Hellenistic
astrology likely developed in a common milieu with Hermeticism and Gnosticism
(i.e., in Hellenized Egypt), the former discipline did not develop along the
excessively mystical, mythical, and esoteric lines as the latter schools.
When Hellenistic astrologers discussed apokatastasis, it was usually
in terms of an intra-cosmic process of planetary recurrence and
"counter-recurrence" (antapokatastasis), [9] and did not
refer to any supra-cosmic event, as did Gnostic and Christian soteriology. The Hellenistic
astrologers adhered to the Stoic model of the universe, and busied themselves
with, among other things, calculating the time of the conflagration (ekpurôsis).
It was generally agreed that the apokatastasis would occur when all
planets aligned in Cancer - this was the signal for the ekpurôsis.
Conversely, the alignment of all planets in Capricorn (the sign opposite
Cancer) announced the antapokatastasis or "counter-recurrence,"
which signaled destruction by flood. [10] This general schema was adopted by
both Hermeticists and Gnostics, who gave it an anthropological and
soteriological frame of reference. The idea that the
world has been, and will again be, subjected to chastisement by flood,
followed by fire, is found in the Hermetic Asclepius, a treatise also
included - in partial and slightly altered form - in the Nag Hammadi
collection of Gnostic texts. While the astrologers were virtually silent
regarding the reason or purpose for the conflagration, the Hermetic and
Gnostic thinkers were clear in their opinion that this event was directly
connected to humanity's wayward existence. The Hermetic
School The writings
comprising the Corpus Hermeticum, produced at different times and by
different authors, do not always agree on certain points of doctrine. Yet one
dominant theme is the loss of human personality and individuality during the
salvific event. [11] In C.H. X.16-18, we encounter a description of the
purification of the soul and its donning of a fiery body, in which mind is
able to act as the controlling faculty - a task not possible when mind is
contained by an earthly body. "For earth cannot bear fire; the whole
thing burns even from a little spark; this is why water has spread all around
the earth guarding like a fence or a wall against the burning of the
fire." [12] Connecting this passage with Greek astrological conceptions,
we may say that the Hermetic writer(s) equated apokatastasis with the
soul's rupturous departure from the cosmic order, and antapokatastasis with
the maintenance of that order. While the Hermetic
writings do contain some "anti-cosmic" passages, the dominant
attitude toward the cosmos is one of qualified veneration, realizing that the
greatest glory is invisible and intellectual, rather than sensible, but also
admitting that the visible cosmos is the best of all possible worlds. [13]
The Gnostics, however, refused to grant even this respect to the visible,
material cosmos. Gnosticism Unlike the Hermetic
writers, who believed this cosmos to be an abode of passions and vices that
may be overcome with effort, the Gnostics considered the cosmic realm to be a
place of enslavement and exile, controlled by an ignorant ruler and his
vicious minions, whom the Gnostics identified loosely with the stars and
planets. At first glance, the
Gnostic position may seem completely contrary to the Hellenistic spirit,
which received its motto from Plato, who declared that humanity exists for
the sake of the cosmos, and not the cosmos for the sake of humanity. [14] Yet
if one looks deeper, one will realize that the Gnostics simply took Stoicism,
astral piety, and sundry other aspects of Hellenistic syncretism, and brought
them to a logical - or perhaps illogical - conclusion. This is not to say
that the Gnostics were mere eclectics - they most certainly had original
ideas of their own, which informed their interpretations of various
doctrines. It must also be noted that Gnosticism produced the first great
Christian theologians - Basilides, Valentinus, and Ptolemy - who were
actively teaching and philosophizing at a time when orthodoxy was still in
its infancy. I will now briefly examine apokatastasis in the context
of Christian Gnosticism, which will lead us into Origen. BASILIDES Basilides (fl. ca.
132-135 C.E.) was heavily influenced by Stoicism and, according to St.
Irenaeus, by a certain esoteric brand of Hellenistic astrology. [15] Two
versions of his system have come down to us, one preserved by St. Irenaeus,
which is rather too simplistic to be authentic, considering that Basilides
was famed as a highly original and provocative teacher. [16] The other
version is preserved by St. Hippolytus, [17] and contains a highly original
account of the apokatastasis, in which the post-restoration
maintenance of cosmic order is described as depending upon lower existents'
forgetfulness of the higher realm, to which only the "elect" can
ascend. For according to Basilides, beings perish when they attempt to
transgress the boundaries of their nature. The purpose of the forgetfulness
is to prevent naturally inferior beings from striving for a station beyond
their nature, and to avoid the suffering attendant upon such improper
striving. As J.W. Trigg has remarked: "Basilides' understanding of the
meaning of suffering and his recoil from attributing retributive punishment
to God provided Origen with a possible inspiration." [18] The evidence for
Basilides' system is scant, since his own words survive only in a few
fragments preserved by later writers. According to Origen, Basilides held a
doctrine of reincarnation that was identical to the Pythagorean belief that
human souls may take on the bodies of animals in future lives. [19] It is
possible that Basilides believed in multiple restorations of the cosmos, in a
manner akin to the Stoic doctrine of periodic conflagrations. In the absence
of sufficient evidence, however, it is impossible to say more about his
doctrine. PTOLEMY The Gnostic Ptolemy
(fl. ca. 136-152? C.E.) was a pupil of Valentinus (ca. 100-175 C.E.), and the
greatest systematizer among the Christian Gnostics. A complete account of his
system is preserved in St. Irenaeus.20 Concerning the apokatastasis,
Ptolemy taught that all matter will be destroyed in a final conflagration.
The "spiritual" beings - i.e., the Gnostics who are 'saved by
nature' - will be taken up into the invisible, immaterial plêrôma or
"fullness," while the merely "animate" or
"psychic" beings (those possessing soul but not spirit, including
the Demiurge, whom the Gnostics identified as Yahweh) will remain outside the
plêrôma in a place called the "midpoint," since it is
half-way between the blessed fullness and oblivion. At this point in the
tradition, we have arrived at a notion of complete subjugation of the person
to an over-arching cosmic or supra-cosmic process. No longer does the
individual life bear meaning in relation to the cosmos, for the cosmos has
been denuded of all positive characteristics. In Stoicism, a certain degree
of human-divine partnership was admitted; in astrology the cosmic mind was
approached by one full of questions, and the human element was maintained;
even in Hermeticism, the cosmos served as a proving ground for human
intellectual endeavor. But in Gnosticism, all notions of human freedom and
autonomy were abandoned in favor of a radical essentialism. Either one was
saved by nature or not - no human decision made in the face of Being made any
difference. The universe, so argued the Gnostics, belongs to the
"elect"; the dark basement of animality belongs to the merely
animate or "psychic," who were considered "just" but not
"good." Origen, who fully
understood the meaning and intentionality of the tradition which I have
elucidated ever-so-briefly here, responded with an assertion that was truly
revolutionary. In the absence of human freedom, neither the cosmos nor
even God hold any meaning for humanity. II. The Theologian
of Free Will: Origen of Alexandria Henri Crouzel, in his
seminal work on Origen, describes the Alexandrian as "the theologian par
excellence of free will." [21] This is indeed a valid assessment;
however, we must be very clear on what "free will" meant for
Origen, as his understanding of that concept was quite different from our
own. When we speak of
"free will" we are often merely referring to the absence of any
restrictions on our ability to make decisions. Immanuel Kant, in the third
chapter of his Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals (1785), made
the distinction between negative and positive freedom. The former simply
means the absence of coercion or outside interference in the decision-making
process; the latter means the active, self-regulative, informed
decision of a rational being. [22] Neither of these 'modes' of
freedom, now so common in popular conception, has a place in Origen's
doctrine. Origen's own idea is
perhaps more closely approximated by Jean-Paul Sartre's reflections on
freedom, in which he articulates the "paradox of freedom: there is
freedom only in a situation, and there is a situation only through
freedom." And Origen might have added that God created not an essence,
but a situation - a situation necessarily involving, nay requiring,
freedom. [23] Sartre concurs: "Human freedom precedes essence in man and
makes it possible." [24] We will find, as we examine Origen's thought,
that he believed God's creation of souls to have been a creation not of
essences, but of possibilities. While Origen believed
that the essence of each soul is derived from that soul's free and autonomous
activity, [25] he also believed that the soul is not alone. Unlike Kant, who
saw freedom only in the absence of any outside influence, Origen recognized
the influence of God as the key to true freedom - as opposed to a strictly
self-reliant freedom, the faulty exercise of which leads only to slavery. The
guard against such a perversion of freedom, and a lapse into its opposite,
according to Origen, is divine providence (pronoia). [26] The Role of
Providence in the Maintenance of Freedom Origen did not
understand freedom as the ability to destroy oneself. His doctrine of apokatastasis
was based upon this firm conviction. He believed that the soul 'chooses' (or
lapses into) the absence of Good only through ignorance, and not through
active malignancy. [27] Yet ignorance is not, according to Origen, simply a
result of lack of education - it is the symptom of the obtrusion of
non-existence upon our being-with-God. This 'non-existence' is complacency,
boredom, stasis: a relinquishing of one's energeia to the inertia of
existence. [28] Existence is a source of meaning and knowledge only when it
is engaged. [29] We engage existence, according to Origen, only by attending
to the principle of reason that established this existence as the locus of
possibility for a free and autonomous soul. [30] Origen believed that
the results of human free will were foreseen by God, and utilized by Him for
the purpose of leading humanity's engagement with existence to the best
possible conclusion. God's "foreknowledge" (prognôsis),
Origen insists, is not the cause of events occurring in this world, but
simply the recognition of these events as they relate either to the Good or
to non-existence. [31] Yet Origen recognizes
the fact that God has a plan for humanity - a plan involving the
establishment of ultimate freedom. This ultimate freedom is a freedom
in which the possibility of freedom's negation is not present. [32] Origen
could not rationalize the standard Christian idea that certain souls will
inevitably fail to achieve salvation, and be plunged into eternal torment. If
God created all souls equally, with freedom and reason, how could He possibly
abandon these souls to the negation of that original possibility for
perfection? Origen, following a
standard philosophical conception extending back to Plato, believed that the
absence of reason (logos) is slavery. [33] The one who has abandoned reason
may believe he or she is free, but the opposite, in fact, is the case: such a
being is enslaved to ignorance without knowing it. Only the divine dialectic,
which both Plato and Plotinus called the greatest tool of philosophy, [34]
could lead such a soul out of the darkness of ignorance back toward the light
of freedom and knowledge. Unlike Plato, however, Origen did not conceive of
knowledge in the sense of an all-encompassing object of rapt, ecstatic
contemplation. Rather, for Origen, knowledge was understood in a dynamic
sense: as a process of ever-increasing capacity to delve into and grasp the
divine concepts upon which the creation is founded. [35] This is true
freedom: to remain in a constant state of growth, of upward motion toward
God. Providence is the pedagogical power that leads us along this path of
freedom. Since this freedom involves perpetual motion, if you will, it also
implies the possibility for another fall - at least theoretically.
[36] This is one of the main difficulties in Origen's 'un-systematic'
theology, for it leads to the implication that the Incarnation may have been
in vain. This problem is removed, however, when we consider carefully what
justice and love meant for Origen, and how these two seemingly exclusive
concepts were united in his doctrine of salvific paideia. The Dialectic of
Love and Justice We have seen how
Providence, for Origen, is not coercive, but instructive. This idea serves as
the basis for his doctrine of apokatastasis, insofar as Origen
declares that all souls will eventually be brought freely - i.e., of
their own accord - into communion with God, to be held there not by
compulsion, but by love. [37] Certain
contemporaries of Origen could not accept this idea - such as the followers
of Marcion of Sinope (fl. ca. 144-160 C.E.) - and posited a rather artificial
distinction between a "good" or loving God, and a "just"
God. Origen easily, if somewhat sophistically, refuted this assertion: If justice is a different thing from goodness, then, since evil is the opposite of good, and injustice of justice, injustice will doubtless be something else than an evil; and as, in your [i.e., the Marcionites] opinion, the just man is not good, so neither will the unjust man be wicked; and again, as the good man is not just, so the wicked man also will not be unjust. [38] However, the crux of
Origen's argument resides not in such logical niceties, but in his conviction
that justice (dikê) is paideutic, not retributive. The argument of
contemporary theologians against Origen's doctrine is not much different than
that of the Marcionites. In a recent article, Matthew C. Steenberg writes: [T]he doctrine of Universal Salvation [apokatastasis] cannot
be faithfully paired with the more patristic notions of free will or final
judgement, even though Origen energetically defends both, for he described
'judgement' solely as a tool for teaching, and thus removed from it any real
sense of justice. He exaggerated the love of God to a degree that downplayed
His righteousness: two features which the Church has been insistent to bring together
in its teachings, rather than to separate. [39] The problem with
Steenberg's conclusion is that he does not bother to offer a rigorous
definition of justice - unless, of course, he is implying that justice
= retribution (which I cannot accept). The Greek term dikê
is best defined as "right conduct toward others in which one gives them
what is proper." [40] Yet what is "proper" to someone is not
given by nature, but by convention (to borrow the old Sophistic distinction).
Our situation in the world, not some over-arching (or fundamental)
ideal of conduct, determines our relationship toward others. As Origen has
stated clearly, in a very 'existential' passage of the De Principiis: [T]he language of the apostle does not assert that to will evil is of God, or to will good is of Him (and similarly with respect to doing better and worse); but that to will in a general way, and to run in a general way, (are from Him). [41] In other words, as
Sartre declared, "it is therefore our freedom which constitutes the
limits which it will subsequently encounter." [42] These limits of
freedom, as Thomas Hobbes has explained, are products of a
"covenant" - i.e., of agreements drawn up between individuals, yet
determined and ratified, as it were, by some higher "coercive
Power." This "Power," according to Hobbes, is not concerned
with human action toward itself, but rather with a human being's relation to
his or her fellows. Like Anaximander, who saw justice only in terms of mutual
relations, and not in relation to the transcendent source of all, the apeiron,
[43] Hobbes saw justice as a product of mutual trust based upon a covenantal
ideal: [W]here no Covenant hath preceded, there hath no Right been
transferred, and every man has right to every thing; and consequently, no
action can be Unjust. But when a Covenant is made, then to break it is Unjust:
And the definition of INJUSTICE, is no other than the not performance of
Covenant. [44] According to Origen,
we have entered into a covenant of mutual love with God. The terms of this
covenant are simple: strive for the divine Eros that eventually leads the
soul to absolute freedom in knowledge, and God will aid that soul according
to its degree of enthusiasm. However, if the soul turns away from this
striving, God will simply refuse to aid the soul, and whatever befalls the
soul will not be from God, but rather from the soul's own lack of insight. If providence, then,
is our guide along the path of freedom, justice is the principle governing
the concrete situations that we encounter - through the exercise of our
freedom - as we proceed toward God (or not). These concrete situations, while
resulting from our own free choices, are nevertheless part of God's plan for
governing the universe. This does not mean that God pre-ordained all things,
with the result that human freedom is an illusion. Rather: among all the things God foreordains in accordance with what He has seen concerning each deed of our freedom, there has been foreordained according to merit for each motion of our freedom what will meet it from providence and still cohere with the chain of future events. And so, God's foreknowledge is not the cause of everything that will come to be, even of our freedom when we are made active by our own impulse. For even if we entertain the supposition that God does not know what will come to be, we do not for this reason lose the power of acting in different ways and of willing certain things. But if God takes the order for the governance of the universe from His foreknowledge, then all the more is our individual freedom useful for the ordering of the world. [45] To put this in a
simple formula, we may say that humanity's pre-existent freedom, rather than
God's overarching logos, is responsible for the state of the cosmos.
This is human-divine co-operation par excellence - and therefore the
highest expression of Love. Pedagogy not
Punishment: Origen's Doctrine of Multiple Ages Origen's
interpretation of the biblical phrase "foundation of the world"
[46] hinged upon the Greek term translated as "foundation," katabolê,
which also meant "to cast downwards." Following the latter meaning,
Origen declared that the material cosmos is the result of a fall from a
primordial state of blessedness shared equally by all rational beings or
'minds'. [47] As each mind grew apart from God, it began to grow cold (psukhesthai)
and became a soul (psukhê). [48] The blessed angels are those minds
that have remained closest to God, followed closely by the stars and planets.
Human beings and the malignant demons are the ones who have fallen the
farthest. Origen did not believe that the fall was an intra-cosmic event;
rather, he held that the cosmos is the result of this primordial fall. Joseph W. Trigg has
aptly remarked that "[t]he fall, for Origen, did not impair an already
existing material world but brought it into existence. The material world for
him is God's provision for rational creatures who have failed to abide with
God." [49] Rather than being a prison in which souls are unjustly
contained, as the Gnostics insisted, or a mere shadow or image of the pure
intelligible realm, as the Platonists believed, the cosmos, for Origen, is a
realm distinctly tailored to (and by) the existential situation of free
rational beings. However, far from being a neutral realm, the cosmos is a
tool - the most powerful tool - of divine pedagogy; and although cosmic
existence does not negate human freedom, Origen makes it quite clear that the
operative will in the cosmos is not that of the various rational beings
dwelling therein, but of God. Yet Origen does
admit, as we have seen, that the freedom of rational beings precludes any
type of predestination. God does not compel beings to respond to His will; He
gradually instructs these rational beings in the truth that eventually
"forces itself upon us." [50] The beauty of Origen's theory is that
this truth is not forced upon us in a direct and violent manner, but is gradually
revealed to us as an intelligible (or rational) as well as an existential
verity. The unity of 'thought' (logos endiathetos) and 'expression' (logos
prophorikos), for Origen, is not a supra-essential, static unity, but a
unification that is the result of a long process of becoming. As in later
Neo-Platonic triadic systems (such as that of Proclus) where Being, as Hegel
remarked, is not a "principle or purely abstract moment" but a
"concrete form" or 'subsistent result' of a process of
becoming or expression, [51] Origen's system locates Being at the pinnacle of
rational striving. But this pinnacle is
not a point of staticity or repose; it is the flowering of the intellect, an
emergence from bondage. The desire to persist in existence as a self-constitutive
finite being is the source of the binding that blinds us to our full
potential. Such blindness does not, according to Origen, result in our
eternal damnation; instead, it issues forth (in) other ages (aiônes)
in which we again receive the epistrophic call, with the accompanying
'custom-crafted' exigencies that serve as our paideutic partners. These ages are not
programmatically bestowed upon us as though they were divine curricula.
Origen never loses sight of the principle of co-operation between humanity
and divinity. Just as there are many different levels of souls - i.e.,
differing degrees according to the amount of 'cooling off' that took place
after the initial falling-away (katabolê) - so there are many ages,
each one offering an opportunity for gradual "perfection" and
understanding: [T]he process of amendment and correction will take place imperceptibly in the individual instances during the lapse of countless and unmeasured ages, some outstripping others, and tending by a swifter course towards perfection, while others again follow close at hand, and some again a long way behind; and thus, through the numerous and uncounted orders of progressive beings who are being reconciled to God from a state of enmity, the last enemy is finally reached, who is called death, so that he may also be destroyed, and no longer be an enemy. [52] This is the stage of
the "all in all," when becoming is completed and the pure
possibility of freedom-in-being emerges for the first time, as an existential
possibility. The Restoration of
All Things As we have already
seen, Origen held a doctrine of the pre-existence of souls with God in a
primordial state of purity preceding the fall. It is possible, however not
conclusive, that Origen conceived of the Church as the concrete and exemplary
restoration of this originary unity of souls. [53] In this final section of
my paper, I will argue that Origen did indeed conceive of the earthly Church
as the temporal restoration of the original 'cosmic' Church that existed
before the fall. The Gnostic Tripartite
Tractate, which certain scholars have suggested contains Origenistic
elements, includes a section explaining the nature of the Church and its
relation to the Son. [54] While the general structure of the Gnostic text
bears some similarity to Origen's speculative primal cosmology, it differs in
one important regard: the former excludes the 'material' (hulikos)
beings from eternal salvation, while Origen finds a place for all beings,
even ignorant sinners, in the "all in all." In contradistinction
to the Gnostics, Origen refused to categorize human beings on the basis of
perceived spiritual traits. Although a Platonist, Origen was less a
philosopher of Being than of Becoming. Like Empedocles and especially
Anaximander, Origen recognized truth in motion, in process, and not in the
static repose of 'being-t/here' (Da-sein). [55] For this
reason, Origen was able to find an essential place in the salvific schema
even for those who - whether willingly, knowingly, or not - remain outside
the Church. As Origen explains, these existents are neither "vessels of
wrath" nor "vessels of mercy," but vessels of usefulness,
perhaps, or for some other mysterious function known only to God. [56] He
even goes so far as to insist that the polygamist will find a place in God's
mansion, provided he "calls on the name of the Lord," though he
must not hope to be "crowned in glory." [57] We may easily
recognize, in such a sentiment, the firm belief that no life is wasted, that
no existence is for naught. This is, at first glance, a humanistic, ethical
sentiment, and not necessarily worthy of full theological merit. However,
when we examine carefully Origen's writings, we notice a very clear and
precise program consisting of a theoretical reconciliation of what was, what
is, and what shall be. The fact that Origen did not place the burden of
universal salvation solely on the shoulders of God, but found a crucial place
for human freedom and informed endeavor, shows that he was attuned to the
existential nuances of human-divine co-operation. It is important to note
that these 'nuances' are the result of human endeavor, and not of divine fiat
or error. The terms of our existence here in the cosmos are our own; we do
not dwell in a divinely-ordained arena of possibility. These points being
considered, we must remark that Origen, for all his humanistic, free-will
pronunciamentoes, nevertheless recognized God and His primordiality as the
locus of equiprimordiality (between divine economy and human
existence) in which the human soul first took wing. In other words, the human
souls that pre-existed with God differed from Him only in their status as
created beings, while God is eternal and uncreated. This is an ontological
state in which both God and humanity are implicated. In Book 1, chapter 4
of the De Principiis, Origen clearly states the ontological and
cosmological underpinnings of his theory of apokatastasis. [T]he end is always like the beginning: and, therefore, as there is one end to all things, so ought we to understand that there was one beginning; and as there is one end to many things, so there spring from one beginning many differences and varieties, which again, through the goodness of God, and by subjection to Christ, and through the unity of the Holy Spirit, are recalled to one end, which is like unto the beginning. [58] The intention of this
passage is clearly not ethical or humanistic, but cosmological. It belongs to
a distinctly Middle Platonic school of theory, heavily informed by Stoic
conceptions. So in the last analysis, the question arises whether or not
Origen was bending Christian doctrine to fit into his already adopted
Platonic framework. This is a perennial question in Origen scholarship, and one
not easily answered, especially in the confines of this short paper. However,
I think Origen's adoption of Platonic and Stoic conceptions is not
gratuitous, but rather based upon an ethical foundation in his thought that
guided all of his speculations. Further, I believe that did he not adopt
these ideas as much as he adapted them to his own unique program. The Gnostics, we must
recall, made heavy use of Stoic and Platonic ideas as well, yet Origen found
their conclusions to be odious. Particularly offensive to Origen was the idea
that certain human beings are destined for destruction. According to the
Gnostics, these were the beings who were not granted the special gift of gnôsis.
Only those possessing this gift were said to be members of the cosmic Church.
While Origen did indeed hold a rather Gnostic-style (or 'essentialist') view
of the collective pre-existence of souls, he differed in that he did not view
this existence as static and complete in itself, but rather as an open
opportunity for education in the mysteries of God. When these souls fell,
according to Origen, they did not foil God's plan for a paideia that would
result in perfect likenesses of Himself; the fall simply caused God to go to
'plan B,' as it were - i.e., the gradual and sometimes even painful
instruction of souls over the course of countless ages, until these souls
finally accepted the truth and returned to a state of intimate union with and
likeness to God. In all of this,
Origen's focus was less upon individual souls than it was on the collectivity
of souls comprising the Church which, for him (as for the biblical writers in
general) is understood as the "body of Christ." As Verbrugge has
explained, Origen insisted upon the necessity for unity among believers,
since a believer who falls away or lapses into error can negatively effect
the entire body of the Church. [59] However, this idea, far from turning
Origen into an intolerant inquisitor, actually inspired him (in my opinion)
to ever greater levels of tolerance - a development which led him to flirt
with heresy, and which contributed to his later condemnation during the
Origenist crisis of the fifth century. Prompted by his idea
of the pre-existence of souls, I believe that Origen came to view the mission
of the earthly, temporal Church in terms of a gathering up of all lost,
fallen souls into a unity resembling that which subsisted primordially. The apokatastasis,
then, is perhaps best understood as the culmination of such a process of
gathering souls together in a unity of faith. Origen provides a clear
explanation of his thinking on this point: Now what he [St. Paul] said, 'the redemption of our body,' I think points to the body of the Church as a whole, as he says elsewhere, 'But you are the body of Christ and members individually.' So then, the Apostle is hoping that the whole body of the Church will be redeemed, and he does not consider it possible for the things that are perfect to be given to the individual members unless the entire body has been gathered unto one. [60] I believe we are
correct to interpret this last line as a reference to the apokatastasis.
Since Origen, as we have seen, places human souls at a level of
equiprimordiality with the godhead, it follows that he would view the Church,
the "body of Christ," as the locus of renewal of this primal unity.
Moreover (and this is the most radical aspect of Origen's theory) the
salvation of believers is contingent upon the eventual conviction and
acceptance of the Christian faith by those outside the Church! Conclusion In the final analysis
we see that Origen's concern was not for the freedom of the individual as an
independent entity, but for the freedom that results in unity. As John D.
Zizioulas has aptly put it, the freedom that results in division (diairesis)
is only an illusory freedom, since it binds us to the necessity of
maintaining our own unique stance apart from our fellows. True freedom,
according to Zizioulas, is that which permits us to maintain our uniqueness
through difference (diaphora), for it is only through the maintenance
of our unique identity that we can truly enter into communion with others.
This is the unity of the true Church. [61] Origen, in a similar
fashion, saw division as the great enemy of salvation. He was not comfortable
with branding any being as 'lost' or 'beyond hope'. Instead, he saw such
souls as not only engaged in a long, slow process of education, but also as
eminently useful for the Church, since these souls would be the future
beneficiaries of the divine theology that Origen held so dear. Endnotes [1] Acts 3:20-21. [2] Empedocles,
fragment 16, in Diels, Kranz, ed., Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker
(Berlin: Weidmann 1951). [3] Ps.-Plato, Axiochus
370b, tr. J.P. Hershbell, in J.M. Cooper, ed., Plato: Complete Works
(Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing 1997). [4] Cf. Franz Cumont
(1921), Astrology and Religion Among the Greeks and Romans (Montana:
Kessinger Publishing Company, reprint), pp. 30-31, 56. [5] Plato, Statesman
269c-274e. [6] Chrysippus, Fragmenta
Logica et Physica 625.1-15, in von Arnim, ed., Stoicorum Veterum
Fragmenta (Leipzig: Teubner 1903). [7] Arius Didymus, Fragmenta
37; Long and Sedley, tr., ed., The Hellenistic Philosophers (New York:
Cambridge University Press 1987), p. 309. [8] Cf. Rudolph
Bultmann, Primitive Christianity in its Contemporary Setting, tr. Rev.
R.H. Fuller (Cleveland: The World Publishing Company 1956), p. 148. [9] Vettius Valens
57.5, in W. Kroll, ed., Vettii Valentis Anthologiarum Libri (Berlin:
Weidmann 1908, 1973); cp. Dorotheus of Sidon, Fragmenta Graeca 380.14,
in D. Pingree, ed. Dorothei Sidonii Carmen Astrologicum (Leipzig:
Teubner 1976). [10] Cf. B.P.
Copenhaver, tr., ed., Hermetica (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
1992), p. 168. [11] Cf. Corpus
Hermeticum VIII.4, IX.5-6, X.6, etc. [12] C.H. X.18, tr.
Copenhaver. [13] Cf. for example,
C.H. VI.4, and cp. V.3-9. [14] Plato, Laws
903c. [15] St. Irenaeus of
Lyons, Against Heresies 1.24.7; B. Layton, tr., ed., The Gnostic
Scriptures (New York: Doubleday 1987), p. 425. [16] Cf. W.
Barnstone, ed., The Other Bible (New York: Harper Collins 1984), p.
626. [17] St. Hippolytus, Refutatio
Omnium Haeresium 7.20.1-7.27.13, in M. Marcovich, ed., Patristische
Texte und Studien 25 (Berlin: De Gruyter 1986). [18] Joseph Wilson
Trigg, Origen: The Bible and Philosophy in the Third-century Church
(Atlanta: John Knox Press 1983), p. 41. [19] Basilides,
"Fragment F," in Layton, Gnostic Scriptures, p. 439. [20] St. Irenaeus, Against
Heresies 1.1.1-1.8.5; Layton, pp. 276-302. [21] H. Crouzel, Origen:
The Life and Thought of the First Great Theologian, tr. A.S. Worrall
(T.&T. Clark Ltd. 1989), p. 195. [22] This is a
necessarily brief and therefore inadequate description of Kant's doctrine,
which is rather more complex; but it does convey the general sense of what
Kant states with much greater precision and at far greater length. [23] Cf. Origen, De
Principiis 2.9.2-7, 3.3.5. [24] J.-P. Sartre, Being
and Nothingness, in R.C. Solomon, ed., Phenomenology and Existentialism
(New York: Harper and Row 1972), p. 465. [25] De Prin.
3.1.6. [26] De Oratione
5.2-3, in Origenes Werke, vol. 1; Die Griechlischen Christlichen
Schriftseller 3, P. Koetschau, ed. (Leipzig: Hinrichs 1899). [Hereafter
this series will be abbreviated GCS] [27] De Prin.
1.4.1; however, for an alternate view (with which I disagree) see L.
Hennessey, "The Place of Saints and Sinners After Death," in C.
Kannengiesser and W.L. Petersen, eds., Origen of Alexandria: His World and
His Legacy (Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press 1988), p. 310, and
note 46. [28] Commentary on
John 2.3. [29] De Prin.
3.1.19. [30] Comm. John
1.24-28. [31] Origen, De
Orat. 6.3.1-15. [32] De Prin.
3.5.4. [33] Ibid. [34] Plato, Republic
533c-d; Plotinus, Enneades 1.3.5-6. [35] Origen, Commentary
on the Song of Songs: Prologue, tr. R.P. Lawson, in Quasten and Plumpe,
ed., Ancient Christian Writers, vol. 26 (Ramsey, NJ: Newman Press
1956), p. 45. [36] Cf. Jerome, Epistles
124.3,13; cp. Origen, Commentary on Romans 5.10.13. [37] Commentary on
Romans 5.10.15. [38] De Prin.
2.5.3, tr. Rev. F. Crombie, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 4 (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Company 1979, reprint), p. 208. [Hereafter this
series will be abbreviated ANF] [39] Matthew C.
Steenberg, "Origen and the Final Restoration: A Question of
Heresy." (c)2001 Monachos.net. [40] G. Kittel, ed.,
G.W. Bromiley, tr., Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol.
2 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Company 1964), p. 180. [41] De Prin.
3.1.19, tr. Crombie, ANF 4.323 (Greek version). [42] J.-P. Sartre, Being
and Nothingness, in Solomon, ed., p. 462. [43] Cf. Edward
Moore, "De-Mything the Logos: Anaximander's Apeiron and the
Incarnation," in Quodlibet Online Journal of Christian Theology and
Philosophy (Volume 4 Number 1, Winter 2002). [44] Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan,
Part 1, ch. 15, p. 71, ed. C.B. Macpherson (Harmondsworth: Pelican Books
1968), p. 202. [45] Origen, "On
Prayer" [De Oratione], tr. R.A. Greer, in Origen: An Exhortation to
Martyrdom, Prayer and Selected Works (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press 1979), p.
94. [46] Cf., in the New
Testament: Mt 13:35; Lk 11:50; Jn 17:24; Eph 1:4; Heb 4:3; 1 Pet 1:20; Rev
13:8. [47] De Prin.
3.5.4-5. [48] De Prin.
2.8.4. Origen was not above using puns and word-plays to make a point. [49] J.W. Trigg, Origen:
The Bible and Philosophy in the Third-century Church, p. 109. [50] De Oratione
6.2, tr. Greer. [51] G.W.F. Hegel, Lectures
on the History of Philosophy, vol. 2, tr. E.S. Haldane and F.H. Simson
(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press; Bison Books 1995), p. 435. [52] De Prin.
3.6.6, tr. Crombie, ANF 4.347. [53] Cf. Verlyn
Verbrugge, "Origen's Ecclesiology and the Biblical Metaphor of the
Church as the Body of Christ," in Kannengiesser, Petersen, ed., Origen
of Alexandria: His World and Legacy, p. 278. [54] J.M. Robinson,
ed., The Nag Hammadi Library (Leiden: E.J. Brill 1978), p. 58; The
Tripartite Tractate 57:10-59f. [55] Da-sein:
according to Martin Heidegger, our primordial mode of being-in-the-world
which gives the world to us only through the mediation of a "mood"
(Stimmung). Since every mood is an alteration to brute Da-sein, in the
last analysis, only becoming truly "holds sway." Cf. Heidegger, Being
and Time, tr. J. Stambaugh (Albany: State University of New York Press
1996), pp. 126-131 {Sein und Zeit I.v, 134-140}. [56] Origen, In
Jeremiam 20.3. GCS 6. [57] Homiliae in
Lucam 17. GCS 49. [58] ANF 4.260. [59] V. Verbrugge,
"Origen's Ecclesiology," in Kannengiesser, Petersen, ed., Origen
of Alexandria: His World and Legacy, p. 281-283. [60] Commentary on
Romans 7.5.10, tr. T.P. Scheck, in The Fathers of the Church, vol.
104 (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press 2002), p. 77.
[61] John Zizioulas, Communion
and Otherness (Orthodox Peace Fellowship "Occasional Paper" no.
19): http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/jim_forest/Met-john.htm
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