From Monachos.net

In attempting a study into the nature and character of Origen’s thought, one rapidly comes upon a troubling difficulty: no two scholars on the subject seem to agree on just what this thought truly represents.  Indeed, it is often argued that Origen himself was not entirely sure of his own theological system, as many are the instances in which he presents multiple, contradictory views towards an issue, then leaves the discussion without choosing from among them.  Needless to say, this makes an analysis of his theology rather difficult, for it becomes quite challenging, in places, to distinguish between his ‘scholarly speculation’ and the presentation of his actual beliefs.  Moreover, the polemical nature of much of his writing tends to fill each work with its own particular point of emphasis—a point which is often tempered or downplayed in another of his writings.  No single work contains the whole of Origen’s thought.  This has led H. Crouzel to make the rather overwhelming observation: ‘One of the main difficulties in studying Origen [is] the necessity of examining all the works that we possess before asserting anything at all about him.’ [1]

We must admit the bias which such a realisation will bring out in this paper, for the restraints of time have bound me primarily to the text of De Principiis (‘Peri Archôn’), Origen’s most speculative work.  Occasional recourse has been made to his Contra Celsum and various homilies; yet the full breadth of Origen’s thought could not be examined, even in a passing sense, in single week’s time.  Still, the De Principiis presents his most succinct treatment of the doctrine of souls and the apokatastasis, and thus its use as a primary source does not seem entirely out of place.

Our investigation is into this famous theme of the apokatastasis; and more specifically, into whether it was indeed worthy of the title of heresy which it was assigned at the Fifth Ecumenical Council in 553. [2]   Let us begin with an examination of the idea and its motivating factors.

Origen’s Study of the Soul and the Final Restoration (apokatastasis).

The guiding principle of Origen’s entire study in De Principiis, is the concrete understanding of God as good.  In no wise can Marcion’s doctrine of a just-yet-unloving demiurge be accepted; God is always the good, compassionate, and loving Father who is ‘well-disposed’ to rightly guide His creation. [3]   As J. Daniélou has written, ‘[Origen’s] system has two principal axes: Providence and freedom.’ [4]   We shall discuss the second of these in a moment.  Yet we find Origen’s initiatory motivation in the first: given his belief in the benevolent providence of God, he was unable to accept the notion that God had created beings of differing quality in character—some evil, some good, and some ‘in between.’  Such would imply an injustice in the nature of the Creator, who gives good things to some and bad things to others; and would in turn deny His universality as ‘good.’  Rather, Origen states, God created all creatures on exactly equal footing, none below or above another. [5]   It is only by the misuse of free will (and here we find Daniélou’s second ‘axis’) that these creatures descended to the various ‘ranks’ which they now hold: angels, humans, demons, etc. [6]   The perfect equality given by God was shattered by the misused free will of the souls.  And it will be noted that a certain ‘feature’ here becomes necessary in Origen’s theory: a time which existed before the present life, in which the souls of those now living were also in existence and could exercise their will.  Thus, Origen’s famous ‘pre-existence of souls.’

The system to which this idea gives birth is not entirely complex, and can quite easily be seen to contain lines of thought gleaned from the prevailing philosophies of his day.  The ideas that God created all extant souls in a previous time, [7] and that these were absorbed in the continual contemplation of His divinity, [8] shine through with the metaphors of Platonism.  So, too, does Origen’s notion that these pre-existent souls attained materiality as they descended from the pure contemplation of God: that the lower they fell, the more ‘material’ they became, and thus the less divine. [9]   Origen even toys with the idea that some souls might have fallen so far as to lose their rational qualities altogether, becoming animals or even plants; though he later dismisses this as an ‘unacceptable’ theory. [10]   Of the motivations behind this pre-existent fall, Origen is not entirely explicit: perhaps it was a type of ‘boredom’, [11] perhaps pride, perhaps negligence on the part of wandering minds.  Yet he is absolutely explicit in one vital regard: whatever the specific cause behind the souls’ fall, it was as a result of their free will, and not the forceful hand of God. [12]   On this point, Origen is insistent.  It was only by virtue of their choices and the degree of their insolence in the pre-existence that souls were later set apart into varying ranks, and thus the guilt for such a state of affairs rested entirely upon their own shoulders. [13]

Thus had Origen laid the foundations—knowingly or unknowingly—for a refutation of Marcion, who insisted upon the injustice of a God who would allot to one good fortune, while another great suffering.  Yet such a refutation could not yet be considered complete, as it did not address the actual state of humanity in the world, only in Origen’s perceived pre-existent state.  To this end, he seems to suggest that a certain ‘pre-judgement’—similar in form to the Final Judgement of the eschaton, took place in the pre-existence. [14]   In this spiritual tribunal, each soul was judged as to its level of obedience to God: the greater the obedience, the greater the allotment in the future existence.  Thus some men were judged to be born in a more blessed and elevated state than others, entirely as related to their ‘behaviour’ in their anterior lives.  Now the seemingly unjust state of human affairs could be attributed, not to an unjust God, but to a disobedient and unworthy humanity.

Yet even this did not fully comply with Origen’s overarching theme of the ultimate benevolence and love of God; for even though this system took the ‘blame’ for human misery away from God, it nonetheless admitted the ongoing reality of that misery as the result of His chastisement.  It still portrayed a God whose justice seemed to outweigh His love, for mankind was yet to be punished and condemned—even if ‘justly’ so—for his wrongdoings.  What to make of this punishment and chastisement?  It was this question that led Origen to the discussion of what has been termed his ‘doctrine’ of apokatastasis, or the Final Restoration of all things to God:

Next to Origen’s central theme of God as benevolent and loving, he placed substantial emphasis on the idea that ‘the end should be as the beginning.’ [15]   God’s original plan was not to be thwarted by the fault of man, he said, for that not only implied that God was weak, in that He might be overpowered by His own creation, but also that He was uncaring enough to not restore and repair what His children had broken.  Both thoughts were completely unacceptable to the Alexandrian thinker.  Instead, he posits another explanation of what will come at the end of time:

‘The end of the world and the consummation will come when every soul shall be visited with the penalties due for its sins.  This time, when everyone shall pay what he owes, is known to God alone.  We believe, however, that the goodness of God through Christ will restore His entire creation to one end, even His enemies being conquered and subdued.  For so says the holy scripture: ‘The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, until I make thine enemies the footstool of thy feet.’ [16]

The so-called doctrine of apokatastasis is the ultimate fruit of Origen’s belief in a truly benevolent God.  Within its scope, all the affairs of the world—whether positive or negative in their direct, outward appearance—are wrought by God for the correction and restoration of erring rational creatures, [17] meant to bring them back to God’s loving embrace.  Punishment is, ultimately, a corrective measure by which God intends to bring His straying sheep back into the fold.  Origen wrote: ‘If it were not possible to convert sinners by afflicting them with pains, never would God, merciful and good, punish sins by chastisements.  But as a good father, He corrects His son in order to educate him; as an insightful teacher, He corrects His capable disciple with a severe hand.’ [18]

Origen seemed to believe that God would ultimately prevail in this correction; that at some point in the future, all creation would return to God and be restored to the original state in which He had created them.  All ranks and dominions of order would cease, and the Father’s Creation would once again be one. [19]   This restoration was not to exclude the demons, [20] and could possibly even include Satan himself [21] —for even these were rational creations of the Father, and had once been a part of the same divine contemplation as the holiest of angels.

A peculiar feature of this notion of the Final Restoration is that of multiple worlds.  It is presented most clearly in book II, chapter 3; in which Origen posits that there might be an ongoing system of worlds and aeons, each existing as a further ‘step’ in the ultimate purgation of error from God’s creation.  He dismisses the notion, which some evidently held, that these successive worlds were identical in character in form to the present reality, and simply provided for the infinite repetition, detailed in every respect, of what had come before. [22]   Yet he does suggest that there will be future worlds in which the souls of this age will once again take fully corporeal form, and once again be engaged on the path of growth in the knowledge of God.  For those souls who continue in their disobedience,  these future worlds will be ‘severe and painful’; but for the faithful they will be places of instruction and ‘rational training,’ bringing about the heightened growth of each individual. [23]   But even this ‘transmigration of souls’ would not be penal, but ‘for the correction and improvement of those who need it.’ [24]   Trigg reminds us of this central idea:  ‘It is a fundamental principle of [Origen’s] thought that all punishments, in this world and succeeding ones, are remedial; they belong to God’s providential plan for bringing all erring rational creatures back to God.’ [25]

Judgement of the Above Doctrine.

We have thus far examined, albeit in great brevity, Origen’s view of the soul and the Final Restoration.  We come now to the question of judgement.  Few Christian writers of the first centuries AD have generated the lasting debate and controversy that Origen managed; culminating in two ‘Origenist Crises,’ the exile of an archbishop, and the condemnation of a council.  The depth of the controversy itself is beyond the scope of this short paper, as we are concerned primarily with the question of its outcome: ought Origen’s doctrine of the apokatastasis have been condemned as heretical, as it was at the Fifth Ecumenical Council?  In the examination of this question I will focus on two primary themes, both of which have been hinted at above: firstly, the social climate of the era in which Origen lived and wrote; and secondly, the nature of Origen’s writings as comprising a ‘research theology.’

(a)  The Social Climate of the Day –  It is only with some hesitation that I raise the issue of the social climate in which Origen wrote, for one who contrives heresy in a difficult social climate, still contrives heresy.  Yet Eugène de Faye, in his old but insightful book on Origen’s life, raises the question of the Alexandrian’s motivations in light of the state of the culture around him.  It is unquestioned that the religious climate of Origen’s day was charged with difficulty.  Greatest among the theological concerns of the late second century was certainly gnosticism in its many variant forms, including the ‘pseudo-gnosticism’ of Marcion and the Marcionites.  In the case of this latter school especially, the question of the benevolence of God was central, and was flatly denied by those—such as Marcion—who could not find continuity between the injustice of the world and the lauded love of God the Creator.  The winds of gnosticism were blowing stronger by the day, and bringing with them a general trend towards philosophical and religious dualism.

To this end, we find in Origen a remarkable confrontation with the Gnostic dualism by which he was surrounded.  While we may disagree with the nature of his doctrine, we must nonetheless admit that it represents a masterful attempt to combat the un-Christian notions of a radical split between God and matter, and the seeming injustice of the ‘great demiurge’.  It seems clear that Origen was writing to defend Christian orthodoxy from a powerful foe, and to do that he was required to step into the speculation of issues which had not hitherto been addressed, while remaining within the scope of what he perceived as traditional Christian doctrine.  To this end, one does not see in Origen’s works an attempt to set out any kind of dogmatic definition of new Christian thought, but rather the defence of what the Church already proclaimed.  Origen was, in his own way, combating the heresy of his day in what he perceived to be the most appropriate manner.

Thus the condemnation of his ‘new doctrines’ neglects to take into account the climate in which Origen wrote; fails to see that his intent was not to establish new belief, but to defend the Church from an immanent and critical danger.  Such might, perhaps, temper our condemnation of his doctrines.  This is the argument of de Faye, Crouzel, and others.  Still, as we have said above, it is less than convincing in the larger picture.  One must not allow these conditions to push aside the greater question of heresy per se.  In the final analysis, does socially-prompted heresy deserve any more embracing treatment than heresy of another motivation?  In the question of doctrinal definition, this cannot be so.

(b)  A Research Theology – The nature of Origen’s writings as highly speculative has already been addressed.  Its investigative, non-dogmatic tone has prompted Crouzel to grant it the title of a ‘Research Theology,’ for it rarely sets out to do more than pose difficult questions and proffer possible answers.  This quality of the De Principiis must now be addressed in relation to its importance in the question of ecclesiastic judgement, and here we will find a more convincing argument on Origen’s behalf than that of the social climate presented above.  It is the contention of H. Crouzel that the research-oriented nature of the Alexandrian’s writings justifies a certain exemption from dogmatic judgements be laid upon it.  Origen did not intend to compose a summa of Christian thought, and in the Peri Archon he is explicit in stating that he is merely grappling with the more challenging questions set before him—not presenting the reader with a definitive doctrine of any kind.  His method is analogous to that of a scientist who, unable to explain with any certainty why a thing is so, puts forth several possibilities for discussion, leaving the further investigation of the topic to another time and place.

Are such ‘investigations’ worthy of censure?  On one hand the guideline of ‘heresy-is-heresy-is-heresy’ seems to suggest, as noted earlier, that the reality of heretical thought is not lessened by the occasion which prompts its formation.  There is much weight to this argument.  Yet Crouzel and Trigg are extremely critical of passing ‘final judgement’ on largely investigative writings.  What, they might ask, is then to stop the hypothetical discussions of questioning Christians from earning them the title of heretics?  Are the faithful to be anthematized for asking questions, or posing possible answers to ‘fill in the gaps’ that they cannot explain?  These two modern theologians see a great danger in such a practise, for it not only limits Christian thought and discourages faithful investigation, but tends to judge the writings of a certain age in light of the theological advances made in later periods.  Crouzel, in particular, is critical of the Alexandrian censure of Origen, which judged his writings in light of theological developments that had not yet occurred in Origen’s own day.

In the End…

Crouzel, Trigg, and Daniélou offer energetic and often passionate arguments in the defence of Origen, which I hope to have given fair, if brief, treatment and consideration in the above pages.  Yet I cannot close this paper in agreement with them.  However much is to be admired in Origen’s attempt to defend the Christian faith in the face of severe opposition, and however intriguing his ‘solution’ to the problem of evil and injustice may have been, the fact remains that much of his system of belief stands at odds with the fundamental teachings of the Church.  While it is nearly impossible to believe that Origen saw himself as defending anything but Christian orthodoxy, it is yet more difficult still to admit that what he ended up portraying was orthodox in its message.  In the end, the doctrine of Universal Salvation 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.  Here we must admit a severe flaw in Origen’s thought.  Ultimately, his view of universal restoration took the concept of free will full-circle, and ended with its absence; for if all are indeed to be restored to God, then the ‘choices’ one makes in life are really not choices at all—for the ultimate fruit of the decision is already determined by God.

The ingenuity of Origen is to be admired and respected, as is his devotion to the Church for which he fought.  Yet in the end, the condemnation of certain of his teachings as heretical—including the apokatastasis—seems more than appropriate.

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SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Commentary and Critique:

de Faye, Eugène (Trans. Rothwell, Fred).  Origen and His Work.  London: George Allen & Unwin, Ltd., 1926.

Chadwick, Henry.  Early Christian Thought and the Classical Tradition (Chs. 3-4).

Crouzel, Henri.  Origen.  Edinburgh:  T. & T. Clark, Ltd., 1985 (French), 1989 (Authorised English Translation by Worrall, A.S.).

Daniélou, Jean.  Origène.  Paris: La Table Ronde, 1948.

Trigg, Joseph Wilson.  Origen: the Bible and Philosophy in the Third-Century Church.  Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1983 (British reprint, London: SCM Press, Ltd., 1985).

Textual Sources:

Anti-Nicene Christian Library (Roberts, Alexander & Donaldson, James; Ed.).  Origen: Vols. I-II.  Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, MDCCCLXXII.

Butterworth, G.W.  Origen: On First Principles.  London: SPCK, 1936.

Tollinton, R. B.  Selections from the Commentaries and Homilies of Origen.  London: SPCK, 1929.

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NOTES: