WHO IS ORIGEN OF ALEXANDRIA? PART II
Origen Teaching the Saints. Public domain.
Editor’s Note: This is the second of a two part series on Origen of Alexandria. Read the first part here!
Orthodoxy and Heresy
Most importantly, Origen of Alexandria’s life and legacy illustrate the complexity of determining “orthodox” beliefs and “heretical” beliefs, especially in early Christianity. One of the hardest things to swallow for modern-day religious readers is that almost all of the big names in antiquity are a little bit unorthodox in their beliefs. Several are outright heretical, according to many later ecumenical councils. But before we dive into Origen’s involvement in this battle for orthodoxy, let us first think about how these terms have been historically used.
In the Christian tradition, orthodoxy or ὀρθοδοξία (literally, “right opinion”) is defined as the adherence to correct or accepted creeds. The key root word that should jump out here is doxia (δοξία), or opinion, for opinions are contingent on context, time, place, and culture. Interestingly, the word heresy is derived from the Greek verb haireo (αἵρεω), which means “to choose.” Consequently, heresy is a very active term that signifies a knowledgeable deviation from orthodoxy. Yet the static nature of this binary rarely reflects the fluid reality of beliefs in the Church. We have quite the historical mountain of dictums that evolve, adjust, retrace, or retract over time. For example, the difference between the Nicene Creed of 325 and the Apostles Creed of 415 is massive with respect to their respective theological implications. Yet both are used as comprehensive standards for many Christian denominations and are often considered to be in happy agreement with one another.
Perhaps one of the most fecund battlegrounds for orthodoxy and heresy is Origen’s On First Principles (written around 220-230 CE). In On First Principles, Origen posits his systematic theology of the Trinity where he outlines the relationships between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Historically, Origen’s contributions to what became one of the first institutional definitions of orthodoxy– the Nicene Creed and its sketch of the Trinity– are well established in this text. Origen’s integration of Greek philosophical terms with Scripture a) helped explain, metaphysically, how the Trinity was monotheistic and distinct from paganism and b) made Christianity attractive to pagans though familiar terminology.
As the years wore on, though, Origen was accused of what became an established heresy known as subordinationism. (1) Subordinationism is the belief that there is hierarchy in the Godhead, such that the Son (and sometimes the Holy Spirit) is subordinate, or lower, than the Father. The notion of “lower” here can be in role (ex. the activities of the Son are less impressive or less important than the Father) or ontology (ex., the philosophical stuff that the Father is composed of is somehow superior to the philosophical stuff that the Son is composed of). Subordinationism is universally condemned by most popular Christian denominations, as declared officially in the Second Council of Constantinople in 553, but there were ecumenical moves against subordinationism long before that date. In fact, almost all popular Church Fathers in the early formation of Christianity could be considered subordinationists: Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Justin Martyr, to name a few. Despite Origen’s massive contributions to the formation of Christian theology as we know it, Origen is one of the few Church Fathers who is not considered a saint.
Just as Origen had sought to bridge tensions in life, Origen’s legacy hovered above a sea of tension after his death. Over 200 years after Origen had written On First Principles, slightly after the first hints of a somewhat-familiar “orthodoxy” were in the air, the monk Tyrannius Rufinus translated On First Principles from Greek to Latin. In doing so, Rufinus took significant editorial liberties, altering large sections of the text to accommodate the orthodoxy of the day. So dramatic was the difference between Rufinus’ translation of On First Principles and Origen’s original text that Rufinus’ colleague Jerome vowed to write his own accurate version of On First Principles, word for word, so as to preserve Origen’s true views. Unfortunately, neither Origen’s original text of On First Principles, nor Jerome’s more accurate Latin retelling, survived.
Consequently, when a student today picks up a copy of On First Principles, they are treated to a cornucopia of views. Some sections of Origen’s philosophy are obviously subordinationist in their Greek metaphysics, while other chapters coalesce nicely with what eventually became orthodoxy. It is very difficult to tell which sections are faithful to Origen’s views and which were doctored by Rufinus. Yet, translators and teachers rarely emphasize this discordance within the text, and most don’t even dare to account for why it exists.
Conclusion
What does Athens have to do with Jerusalem? How do we know which parts of the Bible are literal, and which are allegorical? How can we celebrate Nicene trinitarianism’s undeniable debt to Origen, while simultaneously squaring his supposed subordinationism? How can we find the “real” Origen in Rufinus’ translation?
These are almost impossible questions. I suspect that the answer to these questions lies in the same feeling of squeamishness that scholars, priests, students, and Christians alike all face when we consider the possible answers. These questions force us to ask much bigger, scarier questions. What can the individual do when their convictions conflict with authorities and institutions? If standards of orthodoxy and heresy change over time as the church’s notions of Truth develop, how do we know the Truth when we see it? How do we make sense of the Church’s history of deciding who is “in vs. out” based on political proximity, strength of rhetoric, and cultural context rather than the faith in their hearts?
Today, there are no better questions to be asking. We have Origen of Alexandria to thank for the good and difficult conversation that follows.
Of course, Origen was accused of several heresies, although I would gander that subordinationism was his major theological nail-in-the-coffin. It would certainly seem “fixing” Origen’s subordinationism was Rufinus’ major focus, as well, which makes it the most interesting subject to consider.
