Chapter 7 Divine Simplicity as an Anti-Valentinian Principle of Unity between the Father and the Son
CHAPTER 7
Divine Simplicity as an Anti-Valentinian Principle of Unity between the Father and the Son
My aim in this final chapter is to identify a second way divine simplicity has formed Origen’s account of the Father-Son relation. The previous two chapters charted Origen’s commitment to divine simplicity and his use of this doctrine to inform his anti-Monarchianism, respectively. Origen’s commitment to divine simplicity, like that of Irenaeus, also shapes his language of the Son’s generation. To be precise, divine simplicity equally leads Origen to place an emphasis on safeguarding the unity between the Father and the Son in his account of the Son’s generation. But, as I argued in chapter 4, an anti-Monarchian committed to the doctrine of divine simplicity faces the “ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic,” that is, the challenge of maintaining an anti-Monarchian affirmation of the Father-Son distinction while upholding an anti-Valentinian account of the Son’s generation from the Father that follows from divine simplicity. In this final chapter I shall turn to showing how Origen’s account of the Son’s generation can be read as an attempt to resolve this problematic by steering a via media between Monarchianism and Valentinian probolē. To do so I will detail how Origen’s account of the Son’s generation satisfies the anti-Valentinian conditions required by simplicity set out in chapter 3 while maintaining the anti-Monarchian concern for the Son’s distinct individual existence.
Origen’s account of the Son’s generation has been thoroughly examined by scholars. Some analyze it systematically around important themes.1 Others tend to focus on drawing out the significance of Origen’s teaching on this theme for fourth-century theology.2 Less often explored, though, is the role played by the third-century polemical landscape in shaping Origen’s account.3 In this chapter I do not seek to present a comprehensive analysis of Origen’s account of the Son’s generation as a whole. Instead I offer a focused reading of PArch I.2 in light of its anti-Valentinian and anti-Monarchian contexts. Situating PArch I.2 in these contexts will bring a fresh perspective on how certain features of Origen’s understanding of the Son’s generation have been developed shaped by polemical concerns. Consequently, a contextualized understanding of Origen’s account within its third-century milieu will emerge.
Divine simplicity’s role as an anti-Valentinian emphasis is much less obvious in Origen than in Irenaeus. Two passages that resemble Irenaeus’s anti-Valentinian polemic can be found in the Peri Archōn.4 But the reliability of our texts of these passages is questionable because it is well known that Rufinus’s Latin rendering of the work is especially problematic when it comes to the Son’s relation to the Father.5 Given this thorny issue, some brief remarks are in order to detail how I aim to establish my thesis in this chapter. In the first part I shall draw on internal and external evidence to establish Valentinian probolē and Monarchianism as relevant polemical concerns in PArch I.2. On the one hand, I highlight that Origen explicitly rejects Valentinian probolē based on simplicity in the Peri Archōn. While Rufinus is not always reliable on the Son’s generation, there is no reason to doubt the explicit anti-Valentinian polemic in the translation as authentic. This, then, justifies my anticipation of anti-Valentinian considerations, similar to the ones in Irenaeus, in Origen’s account of the Son’s generation in PArch I.2. On the other hand, I highlight key evidence that lends plausibility to my anticipation of anti-Monarchian concerns in the background of that text. We know Origen was concerned with the Monarchian account of the procession of the Word in his Alexandrian period.6 Further, explicit anti-Monarchian polemic can be found in PArch I.2.2. Once again, while Rufinus might be unreliable on other details in this chapter, I see no reason to doubt the authenticity of the explicit anti-Monarchian polemic presented therein. Having secured my identification of Origen’s polemical concerns, in the second part of the chapter I will show that Origen’s account of the Son’s generation in PArch I.2 satisfies the three key conditions that follow from divine simplicity, as highlighted in chapter 3. But Origen’s implementation of these conditions is considerably more complex than in Irenaeus. I argue that if we attend closely to how Origen formulates his concerns (PArch I.2.4), it reveals that his account of the Son’s generation (PArch I.2.5–13) can be read as an attempt to resolve the “ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic.” Consequently, Origen’s use of divine simplicity as a principle of unity between Father and Son must be situated within his attempt to maintain a via media between Valentinian probolē and Monarchianism.
THE POLEMICAL CONTEXT SURROUNDING ORIGEN’S ACCOUNT OF THE SON’S GENERATIONIN PERI ARCHŌN
It is difficult to assess the value of the text of PArch I.2 as an account of Origen’s thinking on the Father-Son relation. The text promises a unique vantage point from which to look into Origen’s thinking on this theme as it contains his most systematic discussion on Col. 1:15, Heb. 1:3, and Wis. 7:25–26—the three central passages in his understanding of the Son. PArch I.2 is especially valuable for grasping Origen’s exegesis of Wis. 7.25–26 since little systematic analysis of this passage exists elsewhere in the Origenian corpus. Though ComJn offers a more systematic account of Origen’s theory of epinoiai, PArch I.2.5–13 remains a unique source of his account of the Father-Son relation, especially with respect to the Son’s generation. Yet, Rufinus’s Latin translation of PArch I.2 is generally considered unreliable on Origen’s Trinitarian thought.7 For example, Tzamalikos has highlighted that Origen’s precise conception of time and its implication regarding the God-Logos-Creation relation are simply lost in Rufinus’s Latin. Rufinus simply did not grasp the significance of Origen’s language, in which the tenses of verbs as well as temporal qualifiers like “before,” “after,” “eternal,” and so on, must be used carefully in order to specify the God-Logos-Creation relation.8 PArch I.2, then, is one of the chapters that suffer most from Rufinus’s lack of comprehension of Origen’s theory of time. As a result, the value of Rufinus’s text of this chapter for comprehending Origen’s Trinitarian thought needs to be treated with caution because what we have likely contains a muddled rendering of Origen’s account of the Father-Son relation.
Is it possible, then, to make use of PArch I.2 as a source of Origen’s account of the Son’s generation? In my view, this chapter is not useless as a source of Origen’s Trinitarian thought. Tzamalikos harshly concludes that PArch can be drawn upon only when an extant Greek text has witnessed to the same ideas found in Rufinus’s Latin text.9 The merit of this approach lies in its attention to the most reliable testimonies of Origen’s teaching, but it also leaves out valuable insights that could be gained only from PArch. For instance, it is in this chapter that clearly Origen’s develops his account of the Son’s generation as a via media between Monarchianism and Valentinian probolē. In what follows, I suggest that there is no reason to doubt that the anti-Monarchian and anti-Valentinian polemic in PArch I.2 are genuine. I shall argue that on these themes Rufinus’s text is a reliable witness given that what we have in it agrees with is known about Origen’s engagement with these polemical contexts. I shall now turn to substantiating this claim.
Anti-Valentinian Polemic in Peri Archōn
Origen is committed to the simplicity of God the Father. It is therefore not surprising that he is concerned with purging every materialistic connotation associated with the Son’s begetting. While he consistently rejects the materialistic notion of generation, he never explicitly identifies his opponents who hold this view. Sometimes he refers to them as heretics (haeretici).10 Other times he simply refers to them by the generic plural “some” or “those.”11 Several attempts at more precise identification, however, have been made by scholars. Orbe argues that Origen had the Valentinian notion of prolatio/ probolē in mind.12 Samuel Fernández, along with Cécile Blanc, simply identifies Origen’s target as “Gnostics.”13 I think further precision on this might be possible. According to Jerome, Origen debated a Valentinian named Candidus. Jerome provides us with a brief summary of the content of this debate:
There exists in Greek a dialogue between Origen and Candidus the defender of the heresy of Valentinians. . . . Candidus maintains that the Son is of the substance of the Father, falling into the error of asserting a Probolē or Prolatio. On the other side, Origen, like Arius and Eunomius, refuses to admit that He is produced or born, lest God the Father should thus be divided into parts; but he says that He was a sublime and most excellent creation who came into being by the will of the Father like other creatures.
Habetur dialogus apud Graecos Origenis et Candidi, ualentinianae haereseos defensoris. . . . Dicit Candidus Filium de Patris esse substantia, errans in eo quod προβολήν, id est prolationem, adserit. E regione Origenes, iuxta Arium et Eunomium, repugnat eum uel prolatum esse uel natum, ne Deus Pater diuidatur in partes, sed dicit sublimem et excellentissimam creaturam uoluntate extitisse Patris, sicut et ceteras creaturas.14
Jerome’s report is undoubtedly polemical, as he attempts to align Origen with “Arianism.”15 However, there is no reason to doubt the authenticity of his report because its content corresponds closely to the language found in PArch on the materialistic notion of begetting:
God the Father, since he is both indivisible and inseparable from the Son, generated the Son not, as some suppose, by an act of separation from himself. For if the Son is something emitted from the Father, and if this expression signifies something resembling the offspring of animals and human beings, then both he who separated and he who is separated are of necessity bodies. For we do not say, as the heretics suppose, that a part of God’s substance was changed into the Son.
Deus pater cum et indivisibilis sit et inseparabilis a filio, non per prolationem ab eo, ut quidam putant, generatus est filius. Si enim prolatio est filius patris, prolatio vero dicitur quae talem significat generationem, qualis animalium vel hominum solet esse progenies, necessario corpus est et is, qui protulit, et is, qui prolatus est. Non enim dicimus, sicut haeretici putant, partem aliquam substantiae dei in filium versam.
Περὶ πατρός, ὡς ἀδιαίρετος ὢν καὶ ἀμέριστος υἱοῦ γίνεται πατήρ, οὐ προβαλὼν αὐτόν, ὡς οἴονταί τινες. εἰ γὰρ πρόβλημά ἐστιν ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ πατρὸς καὶ γέννημα ἐξ αὐτοῦ, ὁποῖα τὰ τῶν ζῴων γεννήματα, ἀνάγκη σῶμα εἶναι τὸν προβαλόντα καὶ τὸν προβεβλημένον.16
There are two noteworthy similarities between Jerome’s report of Origen’s dialogue with Candidus and the discussion of the Son’s generation in PArch IV.4.1. First, Jerome reports that Origen rejects Valentinian probolē since it violates simplicity—lest God be divided into parts. This is identical to Origen’s critique in PArch IV.4.1 of those who supposed that the generation of the Son was by an act of emission from the Father (per prolationem ab eo). This passage seems to recapitulate the point made earlier in the work where Origen attacks those who “depict for themselves certain emanations, so as to name the divine nature in parts and divide the God and Father as far as they can” (qui prolationes quasdam sibi ipsi depingunt, ut divinam naturam in partes vocent et deum patrem quantum in se est dividant).17 This comparison suggests that Candidus’s Valentinian notion of probolē could be the view Origen criticizes in PArch I.2.6 and IV.4.1.18 Second, Jerome reports that Origen’s response to Candidus is found in his teaching that the Son was a “sublime and most excellent creation [creaturam]” who “came into being by the will of the Father like other creatures” [sicut et ceteras creaturas].” We need not trust Jerome’s polemical portrayal of Origen’s doctrine here. As we saw in the previous chapter, Origen’s conception of the Son is a great deal more sophisticated than the “Arian” doctrine Jerome tries to portray. But one detail from Jerome’s report is illuminating: in response, Origen seems to have stressed the nature of the Son’s generation as “by the will of the Father (uolutate . . . patris).” This expression matches exactly with what we find in the two places in PArch where we find Origen criticizing the materialistic notion of the Son’s generation. In both passages we find Origen teaching that the Son’s generation is “like an act of will proceeding from the mind.”19 These two observations suggest that the view of Candidus was a likely background to Origen’s discussion of the Son’s generation in PArch.
Chronologically, this identification is plausible since the Dialogue with Candidus, the hypothetical Origenian work that recorded this debate, is dated to before Origen’s departure from Alexandria (~231/32) if we identify it, as Pierre Nautin did, with the first dialogue mentioned by Origen in his letter to his friend Alexander.20 If Dialogue with Candidus was indeed the first work mentioned by Origen in his letter to his friend Alexander, then, given that the PArch is usually dated during the 220s (i.e., before the end of the Alexandrian period),21 Candidus certainly qualifies as a plausible candidate for the anti-Valentinian context underlying Origen’s account of the Son’s generation in PArch. I am inclined to think that Origen probably did have Candidus in mind given the similarity of language between Jerome’s report and PArch I.2.6 and IV.4.1. But given our scanty information on Candidus, this remains plausible but not certain. What we can safely conclude, though, from the comparison between Jerome’s report and PArch, is that it is highly likely that Valentinian probolē constitutes a key polemical context surrounding Origen’s reflection on the Son’s generation in the PArch.22
A final observation will strengthen my case that Origen was explicitly concerned with Valentinian probolē in his reflection on the Son’s generation in PArch. According to Jerome, Candidus holds that the “Son is of the substance of the Father” (Filium de Patris esse substantia). In the Commentary on John, Origen criticizes a similar view when he turns to John 8:42b: “I have proceeded and come from God” (Ἐγὼ ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ ἐξῆλθον καὶ ἥκω).23 Commenting on this verse, Origen discusses two different interpretations of what it might mean for the Son to say that he has “proceeded” from God in this verse. Origen’s preferred interpretation is that this phrase refers to the Son’s incarnation, taking on the “form of a servant” (Phil. 2:7). Origen points out that the verb ἐξ-έρχομαι has the connotation of a “quasilocal” departure and separation.24 Such a connotation can be appropriately applied only to describing the Son’s incarnation, where there is a sense in which he has “proceeded from God” by coming to us. However, Origen mentions a different interpretation that was available in his time:
Others, however, interpret the statement, “I proceeded from God,” to mean, “I have been begotten by God.” These must say consequently that the Son has been begotten of the Father’s essence [ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας . . . τοῦ πατρὸς γεγεννῆσθαι τὸν υἱόν], as one might understand this also in the case of those who are pregnant, and that God is diminished and lacking, as it were, in the essence that he formerly had, when he has begotten the Son.25
According to Origen, some have interpreted ἐξῆλθον in John 8:42b as referring to the Son’s literally proceeding out of the Father’s essence. Given the “quasi-local” connotation of the verb, Origen argues that this interpretation cannot avoid the inevitable materialistic connotation of the language. This interpretation, then, inappropriately conceives of the Son’s generation in a manner analogous to that of a human offspring generated out of one who is pregnant. In the case of human generation, indeed the offspring proceeds out of the pregnant woman such that the latter is diminished due to the removal of the offspring that she formerly possessed. For Origen, the language of ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας necessarily points to a materialistic understanding of begetting.26 Both the process of begetting and the begotten in this case must be corporeal and composite. Thus, when applied to the generation of the Son of God, the language of ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας subjects the Father to division and violates his simplicity. As expected, Origen rejects the interpretation immediately. Now those who held this interpretation of John 8.42b are not identified by Origen, but the view he criticizes is similar to the one reported by Jerome: the Son is “of the substance of the Father” (Filium de Patris esse substantia).27 While ComJn XX is less likely than PArch to be concerned with Candidus directly given that it was written in Origen’s Caesarean period,28 nonetheless it seems to target the Valentinian position that the Son was generated out of the Father’s substance.29 It seems that Origen’s anti-Valentinian concern about the Son’s generation likely remained beyond his Alexandrian period. The direct relevance of this concern in Origen’s thinking about the Son’s generation in ComJn XX lends further weight to my claim that Valentinian probolē forms a key polemical context for his account on the same theme in his earlier work, PArch I.2.
Therefore, I suggest that Valentinian emission likely constitutes the target of Origen’s polemics in PArch against the materialistic notion of generation. As a result, anti-Valentinian polemic also likely underlies Origen’s account of the Son’s generation in PArch I.2. It would be appropriate, then, to read this chapter as sharing with Irenaeus a similar concern against Valentinian prolatio/probolē, namely, that it would violate the divine simplicity.30 It follows that one should expect PArch I.2 to set out an alternative account of the Son’s generation that is compatible with divine simplicity.
Anti-Monarchian Polemic in PArch
As an anti-Monarchian, it is not surprising that Origen is also concerned with Monarchianism in his reflection on the generation of the Son. The Monarchian account of the procession of the word forms the second polemical background underlying PArch I.2. I shall be brief here because the case has been expertly set out previously by Ronald Heine.31 As we have seen, Monarchians reject various distinctions between the Father and the Son. This view seems to be accompanied by an account of the Son’s generation based on an exegetical tradition with respect to Ps. 44:2 (LXX).32 In this account, the Son’s generation is framed by an analogy with the human uttered word. Origen reports this account in ComJn:
It is worthwhile to consider those who disregard so many names and treat this one [Logos] as special. And again, they look for an explanation in the case of the other names, if someone brings them to their attention, but in the case of this one they believe they have a clear answer to what the Son of God is, when he is named Word. This is especially obvious since they continually use the verse, “My heart uttered a good word,” as though they think the Son of God is an expression of the Father occurring in syllables [οἰόμενοι προφορὰν πατρικὴν οἱονεὶ ἐν συλλαβαῖς κειμένην εἶναι τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ θεοῦ]. And in accordance with this view, if we inquire of them carefully, they do not give him a hypostasis [ὑπόστασιν αὐτῷ . . . οὐ διδόασιν] nor do they elucidate his essence [οὐδὲ οὐσίαν αὐτοῦ σαφηνίζουσιν]. I do not yet mean that his essence is this or that, but in what manner he has essence [οὐδέπω φαμὲν τοιάνδε ἢ τοιάνδε, ἀλλ’ὅπως ποτὲ οὐσίαν].33
As Heine has pointed out, the disagreement on whether the Logos is substantial or insubstantial constitutes the crucial difference between anti-Monarchians and Monarchians.34 According to the account in the above passage, the Son’s generation is akin to the utterance of a human word as sound. If this model is preferred, then it secures the Monarchian position that the Son does not possess individual subsistence on his own. This connection between Monarchianism and the Son as an “uttered word” was already noted by Tertullian:
For you refuse to consider him substantive in objectivity, as being a substance which is himself [non vis enim eum substantivum habere in re per substantiae proprietatem], that he may be seen to be an object [res] and a person [ persona], and so may be capable, inasmuch as he is another beside God, of causing there to be two, the Father and the Son, God and the Word: for what, you will say, is a word except voice [vox] and oral sound [sonus oris] and . . . smitten air intelligible in the hearing, for the rest an empty something, void and incorporeal?35
The Monarchian model of the Son’s generation, then, takes Ps. 44:2 (LXX) as offering an account of the generative relation between Father and Son that justifies the refusal to attribute distinct individual existence to the Son.
It is noteworthy, then, that the Monarchian account of the Son’s generation forms one of the key contexts for the first two books of the Commentary on John. This is significant since it is in these two books that Origen develops his systematic consideration of Christological titles, on the basis of which he builds his discussion of Christology in PArch I.2. In particular, in ComJn I.280–88, Origen offers an explicit critique of the use of Ps. 44:2 (LXX) in support of the use of “uttered word” as a model for the Son’s generation.36 Though we do not find such an argument in PArch I.2, two observations highlight that the anti-Monarchian polemic in Book I of ComJn likely also underlies the consideration of the Son’s generation in PArch I.2.37 First, Origen’s approach to Christological titles in Book I of ComJn is animated by his concern with “de-centering” Logos as a special title.38 This is because, according to Origen, those who propose that the Son was an “uttered word” were led to this problematic account of generation because they were unduly focused on Logos as a special title. In response to this, Origen replaces Word with wisdom as the supreme title of the Son. Word as a title, he contends, must be understood in relation to wisdom. Further, he argues that Word is only one among many Christological titles. It follows, from this “de-centering” of Logos, the Monarchians were insufficiently attentive to the multiplicity of Christological titles in Scripture, leading them to become fixated with Word as a special title for understanding the Son’s generation. This explains why in ComJn I Origen stresses the nature of Christ as “many things,” as we saw in the previous chapter, as an anti-Monarchian emphasis. Now in PArch I.2, a reproduction of this anti-Monarchian “de-centering” of the Word is present, albeit in a simplified form. Origen’s Christological discussion in PArch I.2.1–3 proceeds in a manner that parallels the one found in ComJn I.90–124: he begins with wisdom. Then, parallel to what he does in ComJn I.111–15, in PArch I.2.2–3 he elaborates how the Word should be understood as a title in relation to wisdom. Finally, in PArch I.2.3–4 he proceeds to several key titles that come after wisdom and Word in the order of Christological titles: life, truth, resurrection, and finally, way. The structural parallels between ComJn I and PArch I.2 point to the more systematic discussion of the former as a foundation for the more concise discussion of the latter. This, in turn, suggests that the polemical context of the former likely carries over to the latter. More definitive is my second observation, that in PArch I.2 Origen expresses his anti-Monarchian concern explicitly: “Let no one, however, suppose that when we call him the wisdom of God, we mean something unsubstantial.”39 This indicates that, as in ComJn I.151, cited above, the Monarchian account of the Son as a word uttered by the Father is at the back of Origen’s mind when he composes his account on the Son’s generation in PArch I.2. These two observations, then, suffice to secure the centrality of anti-Monarchian concerns as the second key polemical background to PArch I.2.
ORIGEN’S VIA MEDIA BETWEEN VALENTINIAN PROBOLĒ AND MONARCHIANISM IN PERI ARCHŌN I.2
With Irenaeus, Origen insists that divine simplicity rules out Valentinian probolē. If God is simple, then he cannot suffer the kind of divisions implied by Valentinian probolē. But, with Tertullian, he also rejects the Monarchian account of the Son’s generation as an uttered word. The Son is a distinct hypostasis. So one would also expect that in developing an anti-Valentinian account of the Son’s generation, Origen would be concerned with safeguarding the Son’s distinct individual existence. In PArch I.2.4 he frames his account of the Son’s generation precisely around what I have called the “ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic”:
But whereas the offspring of humans or of other animals, whom we see around us, correspond to the seed of those of whose seed they are or of those in whose wombs they are formed and nourished, having from these whatever it is that they have taken and bring into the light of day when they are born, it is abominable and unlawful to equate the God and Father, (A) in the begetting of his only-begotten Son and (B) in his giving [him] subsistence, with any generation of humans or other animals; but it must be something exceptional and worthy of God, for which can be found no comparison at all, not merely in things, but even in thought or imagination, such that a human mind could apprehend how the unbegotten God becomes Father of the only-begotten Son.
Verum quoniam hi, qui apud nos videntur hominum filii vel ceterorum animalium, semini eorum a quibus seminati sunt respondent vel earum in quarum utero formantur ac nutriuntur, habentes ex his quicquid illud est, quod in lucem hanc assumunt ac deferent processuri: infandum autem est et inlicitum deum patrem (A) in generatione unigeniti filii sui atque (B) in subsistentia eius exaequare alicui vel hominum vel aliorum animantium generanti; sed necesse est exceptum aliquid esse et deo dignum, cuius nulla prorsus comparatio non in rebus solum sed ne in cognitatione quidem vel sensu inveniri potest, ut humana cogitatio possit adpraehendere quomodo ingenitus deus pater efficitur unigeniti filii.40
In a key sentence, which I have italicized above, Origen announces programmatically the problem he is attempting to resolve in PArch I.2.5–13. The main problem is caused by what he perceives to be two ways to impiously attribute anthropomorphic connotations to the Father. First, it is inappropriate to regard the Father, in the generation of his Only-Begotten son, as akin to a human generator. Origen likely has in mind the standard polemical account of Valentinian probolē here. The first impious way, then, is to think of God the Father as generating in an animal-like manner such as in Valentinian emissions. Second, it is inappropriate to regard the Father, in granting his Only-Begotten Son subsistence, as akin to a human generator. The phrase in subsistentia eius, I suggest, indicates that Origen likely had in mind here the same issue we have seen previously in Tertullian’s APrax. 8. As seen in chapter 4, Tertullian observes a potential Monarchian critique against the anti-Monarchians’ position: if the Son possesses his own distinct individual existence, does this position mean that the Father is divided? The problem, then, is that the anti-Monarchian affirmation of the Son’s distinct individual existence potentially entails an animal-like account of generation. In the above passage Origen seems to be rejecting the possibility of drawing this conclusion. The presence of the phrase in subsistentia eius shows that Origen is clearly aware of this potential problem as he sets out his own account of the Son’s generation. The final part of this passage suggests that Origen intends to resolve this problem in an anti-Monarchian manner. In the face of this problem, instead of concluding with the Monarchians that a distinct hypostasis should not be attributed to the Son, what is required is an “exceptional” process that accounts for the generation of the Son while maintaining the Son as a distinct individual existence, begotten from the Father in a manner that is compatible with the Father’s simplicity. If this reading is correct, then Origen’s problematic in PArch I.2.5–13, programmatically set out in the above passage, is similar to the “ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic”: how is it possible to construct an account of the Son’s generation that (1) preserves the simplicity of the Father, and (2) maintains the Son’s individual existence as a result? In other words, how does one find a via media between Valentinian probolē and Monarchianism? If this is right, then the dual concern of maintaining an account of the Son’s generation that is compatible with divine simplicity (anti-Valentinian emphasis) without compromising the Son’s distinct hypostasis (anti-Monarchian emphasis) should be at the forefront of Origen’s thinking throughout PArch I.2.
In what follows I shall argue that this dual concern indeed frames Origen’s distinctive account of the Son’s generation in PArch I.2.5–13. To be precise, I shall turn to examining the basic structures of Origen’s thinking on this theme in order to highlight that he is committed to maintaining the same conditions (inseparability, consubstantiality,41 contemporaneity) we have seen in Irenaeus. But I shall frequently stress that Origen’s implementation of these conditions goes beyond that of Irenaeus, as might be expected from his additional concern with maintaining the anti-Monarchian affirmation of the Son’s distinct hypostasis.
Implementing Inseparability: Tanquam a Mente Voluntas
If God is simple, then he cannot generate that which is separate from him. Inseparability, as we have seen in the work of Irenaeus, implies that God cannot generate in the manner of human begetting or mental activities. These two examples highlight what is required for a process of generation to preserve the simplicity of the generator: the generated must in some sense be identical with the generator.42 But Irenaeus’s “identity thesis” language was not adequate for Origen. If the simple could generate only that which was identical to itself, this would lead directly to Monarchianism. This is because Irenaeus’s language does not differentiate the sense in which something that possesses a distinct individual existence from the sense in which something possesses a separate individual existence. Or, putting it in Tertullian’s terms, Irenaeus’s analysis lacks differentiation between divisio/ distinctio and pars/portio. Origen’s approach is to outhne an “exceptional” process in which God could generate his Only-Begotten Son so that the Son would not have a separate existence while ensuring that the Son acquired a distinct hypostasis. This approach can be read as an attempt to safeguard the following two theses:
Anti-Valentinian thesis: The Son must be identical to the Father in some sense in order to preserve the simplicity of the Father.
Anti-Monarchian thesis: The Son must possess a distinct individual existence (= hypostasis) and as such must not be totally identical to the Father himself.
Origen’s task, then, is to maintain the two theses in a coherent manner without contradictions. The solution, the “exceptional process” Origen had in mind in PArch I.2.4, is aptly summed up by the phrase tanquam a mente voluntas: the generation of the Word is “like the act of will from the mind.”43
In PArch I.2.6 Origen introduces the language of the will proceeding from the mind:
If “all that the Father does, the Son also does likewise” (John 5:19), then by the fact that the Son does all things like the Father, the image of the Father is formed in the Son, who is assuredly born of him, as an act of his will proceeding from the intellect. And therefore I consider that the will of the Father ought to be sufficient for the subsistence of what he wills; for in willing he uses no other means than that which is produced by the counsel of his will. In this way, then, the subsistence of the Son is also begotten by him. Si enim Omnia quae facit pater, haec et filius facit similiter, in eo quod omnia ita facit filius sicut pater, imago patris defomatur in filio, qui utique natus ex eo est velut quaedam voluntas eius ex mente procedens. Et ideo ego arbitror quod sufficere debeat voluntas patris ad subsistendum hoc, quod vult pater. Volens enim non alia via utitur, nisi quae consilio voluntas profertur. Ita ergo et filii ab eo subsistentia generatur.
To probe the details of Origen’s account more precisely, the meaning of the term voluntas needs to be determined since this term contains a significant ambiguity. Does it refer to (1) the Father’s very act of willing (i.e., his faculty of will), (2) the object of the Father’s act of willing (i.e., that which is willed by him), or (3) the result of the Father’s act of willing?44 Since the notion of the Son as begotten from the will of God became tainted after the fourth-century controversies surrounding Arius and “Arianism,” this is a point at which one would expect to see Rufinus’s editorial hand. Hence, Rufinus’s Latin translation of PArch cannot be entirely trusted here.45 In light of this, I shall turn to a set of extant Greek passages that will help identify the use of voluntas by Origen in a Christological context.
The first piece of the puzzle is found in a fragment of Origen’s lost Commentary on Ephesians. In this passage he comments on the phrase “through the will of God” in Eph. 1:1. The use of this phrase raises a potential problem. The preposition διὰ indicates “what is subordinate” (τὸ ὑπηρετικὸν), referring to that which stands in the second position to something greater.46 In light of this, Origen anticipates the puzzlement of some concerning Eph. 1:1. How could the “will of God” stand in second position to something greater? The puzzlement arises presumably because the thought seems blasphemous, suggesting that the divine will is subordinated to something else. Did Paul, then, misuse the preposition? According to Origen, the first step toward resolution is to recognize that “through God” (διὰ θεοῦ) is not the same as “through the will of God” (διὰ θελήματος θεοῦ). The former is clearly blasphemous, subordinating God to something greater. But it is not unreasonable to use “the will of God” to refer to something standing in second position since “what God uses is itself considered to have being.”47 The argument is that if “the will of God” can possess hypostasis in itself (ὑπόστασιν ἔχον αὐτόν), then it is possible to refer to it as “what is subordinate” (τὸ ὑπηρετικὸν), standing in a second position to God. But is it possible that the “will of God” possesses hypostasis in itself? Origen suggests that this is possible if this phrase is interpreted Christologically:
And you will take note also if the phrase “will of God” can be applied to Christ so that as he is “the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor. 1:24), so he may also be his “will,” himself having the hypostasis of God. But if someone should think it absurd to say that the “will of God” is invested with substance, let him note if the seeming absurdity is not about the same also in the case of the “Power of God,” the “Wisdom of God,” the “Word of God,” “Truth,” “Resurrection” and “Way.” For it seems to me to be about the same concerning all of these, insofar as they are invested with substance in the onlybegotten Word.
ἐπιστήσεις δὲ καὶ περὶ τοῦ θελήματος τοῦ θεοῦ εἰ δύναται τάσσεσθαι ἐπὶ Χριστοῦ· ἵν’ ὥσπερ ἐστὶ Θεοῦ δύναμις καὶ θεοῦ σοφία, οὕτως ᾖ καὶ θέλημα αὐτοῦ, Θεοῦ ὑπόστασιν ἔχον αὐτόν· ἐὰν δέ τινι ἀπεμφαῖνον φαίνηται οὐσιῶσθαι λέγειν τὸ τοῦ Θεοῦ θέλημα, ἐπιστησάτω εἰ μὴ ἡ δοκοῦσα ἀπέμφασις παραπλήσιός ἐστι καὶ ἐπὶ δυνάμεως Θεοῦ καὶ σοφίας Θεοῦ καὶ λόγος Θεοῦ, καὶ ἀληθείας καὶ ἀναστάσεως καὶ ὁδοῦ· παραπλήσιος γάρ μοι δοκεῖ τυγχάνειν περὶ πάντων τούτων, ὡς οὐσιωμένων ἐν τῷ μονογενεῖ Λόγῳ.48
If Scripture says that Christ is the power and wisdom of God among many other things, then it is not absurd to think that he is also the “will of God.” In the same way that hypostasis is granted to the “power of God,” the “wisdom of God,” and many others titles, so is it possible to conceive of the “will of God” as a distinct hypostasis so long as the phrase is understood to refer to Christ himself. It is possible, then, to conceive of the Son as τὸ τοῦ Θεοῦ θέλημα. Consequently, this fragment highlights Origen’s teaching that Christ is to be conceived of as the hypostasis of the very will of God.
But what is the “will of God” that has acquired hypostasis in Christ? Does θέλημα refer to the object of an act of willing, the act of willing itself, or the result of an act of willing? This is unclear from the fragment of ComEp. So another piece of the jigsaw is needed. In the Commentary on John, where Origen is commenting on John 4:34, we find another hint of his thinking on the Son as the will of God:
For that is not the Father’s will in its entirety—I mean that which comes to be extraneous to the one who wills, apart from the previously mentioned will. The complete will of the Father is done by the Son when the willing of God that comes to be in the Son does that which the will of God wishes.
Ἐκεῖνο γάρ, λέγω δὲ τὸ ἔξω τοῦ θέλοντος γινόμενον χωρὶς τοῦ προειρημένου θελήματος οὐχ ὅλον μὲν τὸ θέλημα τοῦ πατρός. πᾶν δέ ἐστιν τὸ θέλημα τοῦ πατρὸς ὑπὸ τοῦ υἱοῦ γινόμενον ὅτε τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ γενόμενον ἐν τῷ υἱῷ ποιεῖ ταῦτα ἅπερ βούλεται τὸ θέλημα τοῦ θεοῦ.49
In this passage Origen differentiates two senses according to which the Son does the Father’s will. The Son could be doing the Father’s will by performing his will apart from the Father. In other words, the Son does the will of the Father merely as a separate will. For Origen, this sense is insufficient to account for the profound sense of the Son’s doing the will of the Father: the Son does the “complete will” of the Father.50 The “complete will” of the Father is accomplished when “the willing of God that comes to be in the Son does that which the will of God wishes” (τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ γενόμενον ἐν τῷ υἱῷ ποιεῖ ταῦτα ἅπερ βούλεται τοῦ πατρός). In the Greek, τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ γενόμενον ἐν τῷ υἱῷ is the subject of the verb ποιεῖ. It is natural, then, to interpret τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ γενόμενον ἐν τῷ υἱῷ as the act of willing of the Father that comes to be in the Son. It follows that the Son “does the complete will of the Father” by being the very hypostasis of the Father’s act of willing, accomplishing everything that the Father wills. This observation further qualifies what we have seen in ComEp. For this passage suggests that Origen thinks what has acquired a hypostasis in the Son is the Father’s act of willing, since τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ γενόμενον ἐν τῷ υἱῷ is what does “that which the will of God wishes.” It is through the Son, as a distinct hypostasis, that the Father wills what he wills into actuality. Putting the two pieces of the jigsaw together, Origen seems to have the actus mentis in mind when he teaches that the Son is the “will of God” acquiring hypostasis.
It remains unclear, though, how the Son as the “will of God” shed light on the idea of his generation from the Father. I shall now turn to establishing this connection. In the same section of the Commentary on John we examined above, Origen offers a clue as to how the language of the Son as the “will of God” clarifies the nature of his generation:
Perhaps this is why he [the Son] is the image of the invisible God. For indeed the will that is in him is an image of the first will, and the divinity that is in him is an image of the true divinity. But even though he is an image of the Father’s goodness, he says, “Why do you call me good?” And indeed it is this will that is the distinctive food of the Son himself, food on account of which he is what he is.
Καὶ τάχα διὰ ταῦτα εἰκών ἐστιν τοῦ θεοῦ τοῦ ἀοράτου· καὶ γὰρ τὸ ἐν αὐτῷ θέλημα εἰκὼν τοῦ πρώτου θελήματος, καὶ ἡ ἐν αὐτῷ θεότης εἰκὼν τῆς ἀληθινῆς θεότητος· εἰκὼν δὲ καὶ τῆς ἀγαθότητος ὢν τοῦ πατρός φησι· Τί με λέγεις ἀγαθόν; καὶ τοῦτό γε τὸ θέλημα βρῶμά ἐστιν τοῦ υἱοῦ ἴδιον αὐτοῦ, δι’ ὃ βρῶμα ἔστιν ὃ ἔστιν.51
The last sentence in this passage hints at Origen’s understanding of the Son’s generation from the Father in terms of “will.” Here Origen identifies the food on account of which the Son is who he is (δι’ ὃ βρῶμα ἔστιν ὃ ἔστιν) as the first will of which the Son is an image. The phrase δι’ ὃ suggests that the Father’s will, identified as the Son’s food, constitutes the basis for the Son’s existence. This brings us the final piece of the jigsaw. In ComEp the Son’s hypostasis is identified as the very “will of God” (τὸ τοῦ Θεοῦ θέλημα). The first passage from ComJn clarifies that it is the Father’s act of willing (τὸ θέλειν τοῦ θεοῦ) that acquires a distinct reality in the Son. What the final passage adds, then, is the claim that the Son’s hypostasis is dependent for its existence upon the Father’s act of willing. It is in this sense that the Father’s will constitutes the food of the Son. It follows that Origen thinks that the language of the Son as the Father’s will also expresses the dependence of the Son’s existence on the Father’s act of willing.
In light of these points, returning now to PArch I.2.6, voluntas in this passage should be read as referring to the Father’s act of willing, not the result or object of this act.52 The Son is generated as the Father’s own act of will proceeds from himself, acquiring its own hypostasis. How, then, does tanquam a mente voluntas provide Origen the “exceptional process” that differs radically from Valentinian animal-like emissions? The model of the will proceeding from the mind does so by capturing how the divine mind operates in a radically different way than the human mind. In the human mind, different stages of its activity are emitted as separate existences because human mental activities suffer delay due to embodiment. But this cannot be the case for divine mental activities, as we have seen in PArch I.1.6: “That simple and wholly intellectual being can have no delay or hesitation in its movements or operations.” Already in Irenaeus we have seen how a simple mind cannot generate something that exists separately. Hence, activities of God’s mind—including his act of willing—cannot result in something generated separately (partiliter) from itself: “Rather, then, as an act of will proceeds from the mind, and neither cuts off any part nor is separated or divided from it, so in some similar fashion, is the Father to be supposed to have begotten the Son.”53 Like Irenaeus, then, Origen affirms that God’s mental activity, including his act of will, cannot lead to the generation of entities that divide God. The Son’s generation tanquam a mente voluntas, grounded in the nature of divine mental activities, is therefore unlike Valentinian probolē and hence, compatible with the simplicity of the Father.
But as Irenaeus has required, the Father’s simplicity remains only if what he generates is in some sense identical to himself. Given Origen’s anti-Monarchian sensibility, it is unlikely that he would follow Irenaeus to the further conclusion that the simple mind cannot generate something that exists distinctly. Yet a limited parallel may be found in PArch I.2.9. Commenting on Wis. 7:25–6, Origen writes:
The breath, then, or if I may speak thus, the vigour of all this great and so immense power itself comes to have its own subsistence, for although it proceeds from the power itself as will from the mind, nevertheless even the will of God itself becomes the power of God. Another power, therefore, comes to be, subsisting in its own properties, a kind of breath, as the passage of Scripture affirms, of the first and unbegotten power of God, drawing from him whatever it is. There is no “when” when it did not exist.
Huius ergo totius uirtutis tantae et tam inmensae vapor et, ut ita dixerim, vigor ipse in propria subsistentia effectus quamvis ex ipsa virtute velut voluntas ex mente procedat, tamen et ipsa voluntas dei nihilominus dei virtus efficitur. Efficitur ergo virtus altera in sua proprietate subsistens, ut ait sermo scripturae, vapor quidam primae et ingenitae virtutis dei, hoc quidem quod est inde trahens; non est autem quando non fuerit.
This passage interprets the sense in which the Son is “a breath of the power of God” according to Wis. 7:25–26. According to Origen, the breath proceeds from the power (i.e., the Father) as the will proceeds from the mind. He begins by affirming that the very strength of God’s power is sufficient to secure the distinct hypostasis of the breath (i.e., the Son)—by now a familiar point from Origen’s teaching of the Son as the “will of God.” As we have seen, Origen sees the Son not as merely a separate will doing the Father’s will but as the hypostasis of the Father’s very act of willing. This sense of identity between the Father and the Son is elaborated further in the above passage: here Origen implicitly identifies the voluntas dei (i.e., τὸ θέλημα τοῦ θεοῦ) Christologically. It is on this basis that Origen further identifies the will of God as the power of God. The argument seems to be that the breath, proceeding from the power (i.e., the Father) and acquiring a distinct hypostasis, comes to be nothing less than being another power of God “subsisting in its own proper nature” (in sua proprietate subsistens).54 This power has its existence from the source identified as the first and unbegotten power of God. What is remarkable, then, is that this passage, in reproducing the observations we have made so far, clarifies how Origen’s account of the Son as the “will of God” leads to a limited sense in which the Son is identical to the Father: he is the Father’s own act of will and power. The Son does not become a separate will or power of God, nor is he the effect of the will of the Father since there is only one will of God, namely, the Son himself.
It is then possible to pinpoint what is “exceptional” in the nature of divine mental activity that enables it to form the basis of Origen’s preferred model of the Son’s generation. Unlike in the case of human minds, where something may be generated with its own hypostasis through dividing the source and the generator, the simple mind (the Father) operates in such a way that his own act of will could acquire hypostasis without suffering divisions. It is this possibility, expressed by the language of tanquam a mente voluntas, that captures the mystery of the Son’s generation and explains why this is an “exceptional process.” Orbe summarizes this point beautifully:
The mystery is that a voluntas in itself (at a human level) that is incapable of subsisting acquires in the divine procession of the Logos such a real subsistence (although of a superior nature) as that which animals acquire under prolatio.. . . In God, such a mystery cannot be a surprise, according to Origen, because of the singular nature of the procession, tanquam a mente voluntas. For the Son is not born as the simple effect of the divine will but proceeds as a volitional exercise (= voluntas) of the same Mind of God.55
Accordingly, the language of tanquam a mente voluntas safeguards the anti-Valentinian thesis. It follows, furthermore, that this mystery of divine mental activity also secures the anti-Monarchian thesis. Since the mystery lies in the fact that the very act of the divine will is sufficient to grant subsistent existence to itself, the model of the will proceeding from the mind guarantees the Son’s possession of a distinct hypostasis.56 Hence, for Origen generation tanquam a mente voluntas provides a via media that steers clear of both Valentinian probolē and Monarchianism.
The astute reader, though, might wonder: does not the identification of the Son as the Father’s own act of will subsisting compromise the Father-Son distinction? That this would not be so is hinted at in PArch I.2.9, where Origen describes the Son as “another power subsisting in his own properties” (virtus altera in sua proprietate subsistens). Origen’s sensitivity to the Monarchian danger permeates his thinking on this point, as illustrated, for instance, in his comment on John 5:19–20 in ComJn XIII.228: “When he [the Son] wills in himself what was also the Father’s will, so that the will of God is in the will of the Son, and the will of the Son has become indistinguishable from the will of the Father . . . there are no longer two wills but one.”57 According to this passage, the Father’s will and the Son’s will are two. But the Son’s will can be identified with the Father’s very own will subsisting on the basis of the unity or harmony between the two wills. In Contra Celsum, Origen confirms this point: “We worship the Father of the truth and the Son who is the truth; they are two distinct existences, but one in mental unity, in agreement, and in identity of will” (δύο τῇ ὑποστάσει πράγματα, ἓν δὲ τῇ ὁμονοίᾳ καὶ τῇ συμφωνίᾳ καὶ τῇ ταυτότητι τοῦ βουλήματος).58 So when Origen identifies the Son as the Father’s own will, he does so on the basis of John 5:19–20, which affirms that the Son mirrors the Father perfectly at the level of act and willing—the Son “does the complete will of the Father.” Putting this point differently, in the hypothetical scenario in which the Son is the Only Begotten who possesses his own hypostasis and yet does not do the complete will of the Father, the Son cannot in the same way be identified as the Father’s act of will subsisting.59 Origen’s identification of the Son as the Father’s act of will, then, does not in any way leads to Monarchianism. On the contrary, this account is built with a sharp anti-Monarchian orientation.60
The Son’s generation tanquam a mente voluntas is the “exceptional process” Origen was searching for in PArch I.2.4. This language successfully avoids connotations associated with animal-like generation. Unlike Valentinian probolē, in this account the Father does not generate something separate from himself, hence subjecting himself to divisions. In this sense, Origen has successfully implemented the inseparability condition, securing the Son’s generation in a manner compatible with the Father’s simplicity. But Origen’s anti-Monarchian concern has led to a more sophisticated consideration of the sense in which such a non-animal-like process may secure the distinct hypostasis of the generated. Unlike Irenaeus, who only affirms that divine simplicity is incompatible with any processes that result in something generated efficabiliter et partiliter, Origen resorts to divine mystery to further preserve the compatibility of an anti-Valentinian account of the Son’s generation with anti-Monarchianism. The Son’s generation tanquam a mente voluntas, as an “exceptional process,” therefore preserves his distinct hypostasis without conceding any divisions in the Father. In this manner, the language of tanquam a mente voluntas resolves the problematic stated in PArch I.2.4.
Implementing Consubstantiality: The Son as Image and Mirror
According to Irenaeus, a simple God can generate only that which is “of one form, in every way equal and similar” to himself.61 A mode of generation compatible with simplicity, then, could allow differences between generator and generated only by generation (generatione) or by size (magnitudine).62 The first allows one to distinguish between two statuses: as source (e.g., sun) and as derivative (e.g., rays from the sun). The second allows one to distinguish two of the same kind (light) where one is greater (e.g., the brightness of the sun) and one is lesser (e.g. the brightness of the rays). The key point is that despite these differences, the generator and the generated are one in nature. Just as rays of the sun and the sun itself are both lights, so must the generator and the generated share the same nature. This condition is required in processes involving a simple source because, as we saw in chapters 1 and 2, that which is simple, which is always self-same, contains in itself nothing contrary to its own nature. Consequently, what a simple source generates could be only one in nature with itself.63 This is what I have called the “consubstantiality condition.” In Origen’s account of the Son’s generation, a similar condition is implemented, as I shall argue, albeit using a different language based on Col. 1:15 (“the image of the invisible God”), Heb. 1:3 (“the express image of his substance”), and Wis. 7:25–26 (“an unspotted mirror of the working or power of God and an image of his goodness”). Since the exact status of consubstantiality (ὁμοούσιος) in Origen is widely debated, in what follows my argument will not attempt to establish a conclusion regarding the status of the specific term in Origen.64 Rather, my aim is more modest, namely, to suggest that Origen’s use of the language of image fulfils requirements similar to those summed up by the language of consubstantiality in Irenaeus. Hence, whenever I use the term “consubstantiality” in the context of discussing Origen, I am referring to the sense of “perfect likeness” captured by this term in Irenaeus.
Drawing on the language of Col. 1:15, Origen suggests that the Son’s relation to the Father is expressed by the term image.65 In PArch I.2.6 Origen considers two senses in which one is an image of the other. In a material sense, a thing is called an image of an object if it is a realization of the object in material form (e.g., a wooden statue). However, in an immaterial sense, a thing is called an image if it reproduces faithfully every aspect of what is imaged. The second sense does not require a materialistic understanding of imaging because it is grounded in the idea of faithful reproduction. According to Origen, it is in this sense that Col. 1:15 describes the Son as “an image of the invisible God.” He suggests that this sense is indicated by Gen. 5:3, where it is written that “Adam begat Seth after his own image and after his own kind.” In Rufinus’s Latin text, Origen’s comment on this verse reads: “This image preserves the unity of nature and substance of a Father and of a Son” (Quae imago etiam naturae ac substantiae patris et filii continent unitatem). Given the language of substantia here, this phrase likely belongs to Rufinus, but Origen’s point is clear: the sense of image in Gen. 5:3 illustrates the immaterial sense of imaging, namely, that the offspring possesses perfect likeness to the parent. This immaterial sense of imaging provides the language that reveals Origen’s understanding of the “perfect likeness” between Father and Son.
Origen further elaborates how the Son is a perfect image of the Father: at the level of act and will. In Origen’s thinking, the language of image is closely connected to the language of will we have considered previously. The Son is the perfect image of the Father because he does the complete will of the Father. The kind of unity between the Father and Son expressed by the language of image, then, is conceived by Origen primarily at the level of act.66 An extant Greek text further confirms this point. In ComJn XIII.234 we read that the relation between the Son’s will and the Father’s will is like the relation between an image and what is imaged. Here, as in PArch I.2.6, the language of image is used to capture the content of John 5:19–20: the Son does the complete will of the Father. Given that the Son’s will is not naïvely identified with the Father’s will, as I have argued, the two wills are nevertheless one because of the perfect harmony between them.67 The sense of perfect imaging in Origen’s Christological use of the language of image must therefore be understood at the level of act and will. Hence, what was implemented by consubstantiality in Irenaeus is captured in Origen by the language of image, which is understood on the basis of reading Col. 1:15 in light of John 5:19–20.
The language of image in Col. 1:15, though, is not the only way Origen articulates a sense of perfect likeness between the Father and the Son. He makes a similar point when commenting on the phrase “flawless mirror of the energy [ἐνεργείας] or working of God” in Wis. 7:25. Although the language of image is absent from this verse, Origen’s discussion of the language of “mirror” in Wis. 7:25 is closely related to his discussion of the language of image in Col. 1:15. In the first half of PArch I.2.12 Origen recalls what we know from his exegesis of the phrase “the breath of the power of God.” He interprets the Son as the strength of the power of God subsisting, with himself another power of God (1 Cor. 1:24). In the second half Origen turns to considering the unity between the Father and the Son implied by Wis. 7:25. According to Origen, the phrase “flawless mirror . . . of the working of God” speaks of how the Son is one with the Father. When a person looks into a mirror, he sees the image moving and acting in perfect accord with how he himself moves and acts. This imagery offers another way to clarify the unity between Father and Son:
As, then, the Son in no respect is separated or differs from the Father in the power of his works, nor is the work of the Son anything other than the Father’s, but one and the same movement, so to speak, is in all things, he therefore called him a flawless mirror, that by this expression it might be understood that there is no dissimilarity whatsoever between the Son and the Father.
Quoniam ergo in nullo prorsus filius a patre virtute operum inmutatur ac differt, nec aliud est opus filii quam patris, sed unus atque idem, ut ita dicam, etiam motus in omnibus est: idcirco speculum eum immaculatum nominavit, ut per hoc nulla omnino dissimilitudo filii intellegatur ad patrem.68
This passage clearly outhnes how the anti-Valentinian condition of consubstantiality in Irenaeus is implemented in Origen’s thinking. First, the Son is not generated separately from the Father, as Wis. 7:25 refers to a process radically distinct from Valentinian animal-like probolē. Second, Origen argues, on the basis of the phrase “flawless mirror” in Wis. 7:25, that there are no dissimilarities between the Son and the Father.69 Once again, though, Origen understands the perfect likeness indicated by this phrase at the level of act (opus). Unlike Irenaeus—and, I would argue, characteristically—Origen turns away from affirming the perfect likeness between Father and Son using the language of substance. The language of mirror in Wis. 7:25, then, is also central to Origen’s articulation of the sense of perfect likeness between the Father and the Son.
The sense of perfect likeness captured by consubstantiality in Irenaeus undoubtedly finds a different expression in Origen’s thought. This sense of perfect likeness, in turn, rules out any possibility of understanding the Son’s generation as an animal-like emission. But the language of image also enables Origen to maintain an anti-Monarchian affirmation of the Father-Son distinction that is compatible with the perfect likeness between the two. Here the parallel with Irenaeus is more striking, as Origen’s account considers exactly the two ways Irenaeus allows for differentiation, namely, by generation and by size. In PArch I.2.8, commenting on how the Savior is “the image of God’s subsistence” (Heb. 1:3), Origen proposes the (in)famous metaphor of the statues to describe the Father-Son relation:
For example, suppose there were a statue of such magnitude as to fill the whole world and on that account could be seen by no one; but that another statue was made similar to it in every respect, in the shape of limbs and outhne of countenance, in form and matter, but not in its immensity of size [specie ac materia per omnia similis absque magnitudinis immensitate] so that those who were unable to perceive and behold the immense one, on seeing the latter could be assured that they had seen the former, because it preserved every outhne of limb and countenance, and even the form and matter, with an absolutely indistinguishable similarity; by some such likeness, the Son of God emptying himself of equality with the Father and showing us the way by which we may know him, becomes the “express figure of his substance.”70
The metaphor of the statues shows clearly how the language of image enables reference to the same kind of difference highlighted by Irenaeus, namely, that by size (magnitudione). Of course, as Origen himself indicates, it would be absurd to take the materialistic connotation of size in this metaphor literally. But this passage confirms that in Origen’s thinking there is a noted difference by size between the Father and the Son, differentiating the two in terms of knowability/accessibility in relation to creatures. This is important for Origen’s insistence on the Son as mediator. It is precisely because the Son is lesser than the Father in the immensity of goodness, divinity, brightness, and so on that “we, who were unable to look upon the glory of the pure light while it remained in the magnitude of his divinity, may, by his becoming for us ‘the splendour,’ obtain the way of beholding the divine light through looking upon the splendour.”71 Origen, then, deems a difference “by size” between the Father and the Son to be compatible with the perfect likeness between the two.
Origen also allows a difference between the Father and the Son by generation (generatione). That is, he allows the possibility of differentiating the Father as source from the Son as derivative. Given that the Son-Father relation is analogous to the relation between an image and what is imaged, the language of image already contains within it this sense of differentiation. For the very language of image already supposes that the image is a reflection of some actual object other than itself. The language of image inevitably highlights the image’s derivative, dependent nature, hence contrasting the image with the source of the image. As we saw in chapter 6, this aspect of Origen’s thought manifests itself in his understanding of the Father as goodness itself and the Son as “the image of goodness” (Wis. 7:26). Origen’s clarification of this point can be found in a few extant Greek passages we have already considered. In ComJn II.20 he speaks of the Father—the God and true God—as the source of divinity in relation to the Son, who is the image of his divinity. In ComJn XIII.234 Origen calls the Son “an image of the true divinity.” He allows a similar differentiation with respect to goodness as well.72 Thus, it is the language of source and image that allows Origen to differentiate “by generation” between the Father and the Son.
Origen’s use of the language of image and mirror, then, accomplishes the work done by the term “consubstantiality” in Irenaeus. Since Origen, like Irenaeus, rejects Valentinian probolē, it is not surprising that the mode of generation he endorsed should also affirm the characteristic features of Irenaeus’s account: the generator and the generated are “of one form, in every way equal and similar”73 while allowing differences “by generation” and “by size.” I have argued that Origen’s use of the language of image and mirror preserves these conditions, but what is less clear, is whether his account also maintains a polemical edge against Monarchianism. I suggest that Origen’s account may be envisaged as a via media in the following way. On the one hand, portraying the Son as the image and mirror of the Father establishes the perfect likeness between the two. This stands in sharp contrast to Valentinian probolē, which introduces radical dissimilarities between generator and generated, a point Irenaeus never hesitates to repeat. On the other hand, while the Son as image is perfectly one with the Father as source—at the level of act and will—nevertheless the image is to be distinguished from the source by generation and size. Origen’s anti-Monarchian sensibility, therefore, explains why he replaces the language of consubstantiality (as found in Irenaeus) by the language of image to capture the perfect likeness between the Father and the Son. Since ousia, hypostasis, and hypokeimenon are all tainted with Monarchian connotations, as we have seen in Origen’s critique of Monarchianism, any sense of consubstantiality will struggle to maintain an anti-Monarchian sense of the Father-Son distinction. It is precisely the ability to express together perfect likeness and differentiation by generation and size that makes the language of image perfectly suited to maintaining both anti-Valentinian and anti-Monarchian emphases. The language of image offers a coherent way to do so because, in Origen’s understanding, perfect imaging in the context of the Father and the Son means perfect harmony in act and will—a point that in principle allows two distinct wills to be in play. This reading of Col. 1:15 with John 5:19–20 enables Origen to use the language of image to speak of the Son as a distinct reality, perfectly similar to the Father without becoming a separate reality that is totally dissimilar to and cut off from the Father. In this manner, the language of the Son as image captures Origen’s transformation of Irenaeus’s consubstantiality condition, a requirement from divine simplicity, into a perfectly balanced via media between Valentinian probolē and Monarchianism.
Implementing Contemporaneity: Tanquam Splendor a Luce
Origen’s account of generation tanquam a mente voluntas is also committed to the contemporaneity condition. As we saw in chapter 3, Irenaeus’s analysis of this theme is somewhat underdeveloped. He asserts that if God is simple, then what is generated from him—qua substance—cannot stand in a relative temporal ordering with respect to its source. For Irenaeus this suffices to reject Valentinian protology, according to which a precise ordering is postulated between different generated aeons. A more precise implementation of contemporaneity is encountered in Origen. Given the extensive literature on Origen’s doctrine of eternal generation, in this section I shall focus on drawing out a less emphasized dimension of this teaching, namely, its connection with anti-Valentinian and anti-Monarchian polemics.
Origen’s account of contemporaneity is explicitly shaped by his exegesis of Heb. 1:3 and Wis. 7:25–26, according to which the Son is “the brightness of God’s glory” and “the brightness of eternal light.” Origen draws on this Scriptural language to capture the sense in which the generated is inseparable from the generator. As brightness from light, the Son is generated inseparabiliter from the Father.74 Hence, the anti-Valentinian thesis is built into Origen’s interpretation of Heb. 1:3 and Wis. 7:25–26 from the start. Valentinian probolē, which suggests that the generated has a separate existence from that of the generator, is ruled out by the Scriptural depiction of the Father-Son relation as light in relation to its brightness. Origen, then, follows Irenaeus closely in utilizing light imagery as an anti-Valentinian emphasis to safeguard the simplicity of the Father.
Like Irenaeus, Origen is sensitive to the implication of the language of light regarding the temporal status of the Son’s generation. He interprets the language of the Son’s generation tanquam splendor a luce found in Heb. 1:3 and Wis. 7:25–26 as suggesting that the Son is eternally generated from the Father: “For this is the eternal and everlasting begetting, just as brightness is begotten from light.”75 For Origen, the contemporaneity between Father and Son, and hence the Son’s eternal generation, follows directly from the two Scriptural texts. Origen’s affirmation of eternal generation is explained, in great detail, in PArch I.2.11 when he is commenting on the phrase “splendor of the eternal light” in Wis. 7:25–26:
That which neither had a beginning of existence, nor can ever cease to be what it is, is properly called everlasting or eternal. And this is pointed out by John when he says, “God is light.” Now his Wisdom is the splendor of that light, not only in respect of its being light, but also in respect of its being everlasting light, so that his Wisdom is eternal and everlasting splendor. If this be fully understood, it clearly shows that the subsistence of the Son derives from the Father himself, yet not temporally nor from any other beginning except, as we have said, from God himself.
Rufinus’s translation of this passage is contentious since he is generally unreliable when it comes to temporal language in Origen, as Tzamalikos has argued.76 A more precise understanding of Origen’s teaching must be sought in an extant Greek text, HomJe IX.4. In this passage Origen states that “the Father has not begotten the Son and then severed him from his generation, but always begets him” (οὐχὶ ἐγέννησεν ὁ πατὴρ τὸν υἱὸν καὶ ἀπέλυσεν αὐτὸν ὁ πατὴρ ἀπὸ τῆς γενέσεως αὐτοῦ, ἀλλ’ ἀεὶ γεννᾷ αὐτὸν). A few lines later he turns to expanding on this statement by contrasting the present tense of the verb γεννάω with the perfect tense of the same verb:
But let us consider who is our Savior: a reflection of glory. The brightness of glory (cf. Wis. 7:26) has not been begotten just once and no longer begotten [τὸ ἀπαύγασμα τῆς δόξης οὐχὶ ἅπαξ γεγέννηται καὶ οὐχὶ γεννᾶται]. But just as the light is an agent of reflection, in such a way the reflection of the glory of God is begotten. Our Savior is the wisdom of God. But the wisdom is the reflection of everlasting light. . . . The Savior is always begotten [ὁ σωτὴρ ἀεὶ γεννᾶται]—because of this he also says, “Before all the hills he begets me” (and not “Before all the hills he has begotten me [γεγέννηκεν],” but, “Before all of the hills he begets [γεννᾷ] me”)—and the Savior is always begotten by the Father [καὶ ἀεὶ γεννᾶται ὁ σωτὴρ ὑπὸ τοῦ πατρός].
In this passage Origen argues that the Son, as “brightness” (ἀπαύγασμα), is not begotten once and then no longer begotten. Just as light begets brightness in a co-temporal manner, in the same way the Son is begotten from the Father. This text confirms that Origen’s understanding of light imagery closely resembles what we have seen in Irenaeus. Origen thinks that light is, by nature, ceaselessly reflected by its brightness. The contrast between γεννᾶται/γεννᾷ (present) and γεγέννηται/γεγέννηκεν (perfect) in this passage offers a more precise formulation of this point. The Father (i.e., the light source) always begets the Son (i.e., the brightness) in the present tense, meaning that the Father never ceases (in time) to beget the Son. The implication of the present tense stands in contrast to the use of the perfect tense, which implies that the Father has begotten the Son at one point in time and subsequently, having completed this action, has ceased to beget the Son. Thus, eternal generation implies that the Father always (ἀεὶ) begets the Son without ceasing. It follows that the Son’s begetting has no beginning in time and does not stand in a temporal ordering in relation to the Father.77 HomJe IX.4, then, clarifies the reasoning behind Origen’s use of Heb. 1:3 and Wis. 7:25–26 to secure the eternal generation of the Son. The very nature of light and its brightness captures, for Origen, the sense of when something is generated co-temporally with its source.
The polemical purpose of Origen’s teaching on eternal generation is not explicitly stated. I have suggested that an anti-Valentinian emphasis is hinted at by Origen’s comments on Heb. 1:3,78 but, unlike in Irenaeus, Origen does not consider contemporaneity directly as a critique of Valentinian protology. I suggest that Monarchianism may have been one important polemical background underlying Origen’s doctrine of eternal generation. According to the Monarchians, the divine Word does not possess his own hypostasis due to the fact that they reject the pre-existence of a divine Son before (temporally) the incarnation.79 Consequently, in Monarchian theology the procession of the Word in creation (cf. Prov. 8:22–25, Ps. 44:2 LXX, John 1:3–5) refers not to an eternal generation of the divine Son endowed with individual hypostasis but rather to a Stoic λόγος προφόρικος—an uttered word that, like sound or voice, fades away. The Son of God came to be, as far as the Monarchians are concerned, at the time of the incarnation, when God’s spirit (i.e., the Father himself) indwells the flesh of the man Jesus.80 It becomes immediately clear that two things in the Monarchian account stand in direct opposition to Origen’s doctrine of eternal generation: (1) there was no distinct hypostasis of a divine Son before the incarnation and (2) there was a time when the Son of God “came to be,” potentially implying that there was a time when the Son was not (ἦν ποτε ὅτε οὐκ ἦν) or that the Son had a temporal origin in time. If this reconstruction is correct, then Origen’s emphasis on eternal generation and his critique of the phrase “there was a time when he was not” could have been part of his anti-Monarchian polemic.81 Eternal generation, on this reading, emerges as part of Origen’s attempt to secure the individual hypostasis of the pre-existent Son (refuting 1), asserting, against the Monarchians, that the Son is without any temporal origin (refuting 2). Admittedly, this is conjectural, but in light of the anti-Monarchian undertones in PArch I.2 and indeed throughout the first two books of the Commentary on John, written during the same period, Origen certainly could have developed the contemporaneity condition required by divine simplicity into a fully anti-Monarchian account of eternal generation.
If my reading is correct, Origen integrates both anti-Valentinian and anti-Monarchian emphases into his consideration of the contemporaneity condition required by divine simplicity. Much of Origen’s use of light imagery is in line with what we have seen in Irenaeus. Though less explicitly against Valentinian probolē, Origen uses the language of light and splendor in Heb. 1:3 and Wis. 7:25–26 to safeguard the Son’s inseparability from the Father. But he offers a more developed account of their contemporaneity, which is expressed in the Son’s eternal generation. The language of eternal generation, no doubt aimed at the temporal ordering between the generator and the generated in Valentinian probolē, perhaps also offers a polemical edge against Monarchianism. If the Son is eternally generated from the Father, then he clearly possesses individual hypostasis for eternity, refuting the Monarchian account that the Son was generated as an “uttered word” with a temporal beginning. In Origen, then, contemporaneity maintains an anti-Valentinian concern with safeguarding the simplicity of God; however, this condition has likely acquired an additional anti-Monarchian concern with the Alexandrian’s more developed form of the condition entailed in his doctrine of the Son’s eternal generation.
By the second century, Irenaeus had already recognized that the affirmation of divine simplicity leads to specific conditions as to how one speaks of the process of generation from God. Whenever an ante-Nicene theologian is engaged in polemic against Valentinian probolē, these conditions become important because they are taken to be characteristic marks of an alternative theory of generation vis-à-vis Valentinian probolē, polemically portrayed as materialistic and anthropomorphic. Origen was engaged in anti-Valentinian polemic in PArch I.2, which explains why his account of the Son’s generation in this chapter continues to be concerned with the same conditions spelled out by Irenaeus. In Origen, then, divine simplicity undoubtedly functions as an anti-Valentinian principle that spells out the sense of unity between the Father and the Son. Here we find a second way divine simplicity has significantly shaped Origen’s account of the Father-Son relation.
But, as I have argued throughout this chapter, PArch I.2 was written within a more crowded polemical landscape than Book 2 of Ireaneus’s Adversus Haereses. As an anti-Monarchian, Origen had an additional concern with maintaining the Son’s distinct individual existence. At the end of chapter 4, I characterized the ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic as follows: Is it possible to maintain the anti-Valentinian emphasis on the Son’s continuity with the Father’s nature (ruling out Valentinian emissions) without falling into the Monarchian position that the Son and the Father are one and the same divine acting subject? Is it possible to maintain the anti-Monarchian emphasis on the Son’s non-identity with the Father (such that there are two divine acting subjects in Scripture) without introducing Valentinian probolē that divides the Father? In this chapter I have put forward a case for framing Origen’s reflection on the Son’s generation in PArch I.2 as a solution to this problem. First, the Son is generated from the Father tanquam a mente voluntas. He acquires a distinct hypostasis without dividing the Father due to the mystery of the nature of divine mental activities. Second, the Son is the perfect image of the Father, who mirrors the Father in act and will. As such, the Son neither divides the Father nor is naïvely identified with the Father. Rather, the Son is distinct from the Father as any image is distinguished from its original. But the Son does the perfect will of the Father so that the Son’s will (the image) and the Father’s will (the original) are indistinguishable on the basis of the harmony between the two. Finally, the Son is generated from the Father tanquam splendor a luce. The Father always begets the Son, and his begetting never ceases. Consequently, the Son always exists with the Father and does not possess a temporal origin. Putting these themes together, I have argued that Origen’s account of the Father-Son relation in PArch I.2 successfully implements the anti-Valentinian conditions required by divine simplicity while maintaining an anti-Monarchian emphasis throughout. The second function of divine simplicity in Origen’s account of the Father-Son relation is therefore thoroughly shaped by the ante-Nicene Trinitarian problematic, one that requires the theologian to steer clear of Valentinian and Monarchian dangers.