I.

In his Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew (10.24.5-6), Origen makes the remarkable statement that “not every sin is to be considered a sickness, but only that which has settled down in the whole soul” [Ou pan de hamartęma nomisteon arrôstian einai, all’ hoper enapeskępsen holę tę psukhę]. By this he means those sins that affect the entire soul, understood in the Platonic sense of a tripartite soul. Origen followed Plato in positing a soul consisting of an earthly part, which St. Paul called the ‘fleshly’ (sarkikos); a changeable part (the part that forms opinions, for example, but has no true knowledge); and finally, the intellectual (noetic) or changeless part, according to Platonic tradition.[1]

Here is Plato’s classic statement, from the Republic, describing the tripartite soul:

[T]he soul of each individual is divided into three parts. … The first, we say, is the part with which a person learns, and the second the part with which he gets angry. As for the third, we had no special name for it, since it’s multiform, so we named it after the biggest and strongest thing in it. Hence we called it the appetitive part, because of the intensity of its appetites for food, drink, sex, and the the things associated with them … (Rep. 9.580d-e, tr. Grube, in Cooper (ed.) 1997)

[S]ome, because of impotence of soul, having a tendency to slip into any sin whatever, although they may not be wholly in the grasp of any form of sin, as the sickly are, are only weak; but others who, instead of loving God ‘with all their soul and all their heart and all their mind,’ love money, or a little glory, or wife, or children, are suffering from something worse than weakness, and are sickly. And those who asleep are those who, when they ought to be taking heed and watching with the soul, are not doing this, but by reason of great want of attention are nodding in resolution and drowsy in their reflections, such as ‘in their dreamings defile the flesh, and set at naught that which is highest in authority, and rail at dignities.’ And these, because they are alseep, live in an atmosphere of dream-like fancies concerning realities, not admitting the things which are actually true, but deceived by what appears in their vain imaginations. (Commentary on Matthew 10.24.21-35 [ANF 10:430])

This imitation by a higher principle of a lower one is found in certain Middle Platonic systems. Plutarch, for example, argued that while all souls are rational, some mingle with matter more than others, become distracted by passions, and so come to reflect, as an image in a mirror, the material nature in which they are submerged, instead of crafting that nature into a reflection of the highest divinity (De genio Socratis 591D.4-E.9). No human being, however, will descend completely into irrationality, for the mind, according to Plutarch, is separate from and more divine than the soul.

Most people rightly hold a man to be composite, but wrongly hold him to be composed of only two parts. The reason is that they suppose mind to be somehow part of the soul, thus erring no less than those who believe soul to be part of body, for in the same degree as soul is superior to body, so is mind better and more divine than soul. The result of the soul and body commingled is the irrational or affective factor, whereas of mind and soul the conjunction produces reason; and of these the former is the source of pleasure and pain, the latter of virtue and vice. (De facie in orbe lunae 943A.1-8, tr. Dillon 1977, 211-212)

[T]he mind is not restricted to any part of the body, but is equally in touch with the whole, producing its motion according to the nature of the part which is under its influence. There are cases, however, in which the mind even follows the bodily impulses, and becomes, as it were, their servant; for often the bodily nature takes the lead by introducing either the sense of that which gives pain or the desire for that which gives pleasure, so that it may be said to furnish the first beginnings, by producing in us the desire for food, or, generally, the impulse towards some pleasant thing; while the mind, receiving such an impulse, furnishes the body by its own intelligence with the proper means towards the desired object. Such a condition, indeed, does not occur in all, save in those of a somewhat slavish disposition, who bring the reason into bondage to the impulses of their nature and pay servile homage to the pleasures of sense by allowing them the alliance of their mind; but in the case of more perfect men this does not happen; for the mind takes the lead, and chooses the expedient course by reason and not by passion, while their nature follows in the tracks of its leader. (On the Making of Man 14.1 [NPNF 5:62]

Origen utilized the Platonic concept of the tripartite structure of the human being in his discussion of the levels of sinfulness to which a soul can descend. Certain sicknesses of the soul, such as vainglory, love of money, fornication, and excessive attachment to one’s family (to cite some of Origen’s examples), require divine healing – i.e., the intervention of reason, which originates at the highest part of the soul, the nous, the part that is in touch with God. Origen contrasts these specific types of sin with a general weakness of the soul, which cannot be considered sickness. He describes the “weak” as those possessed by a common sinful tendency, but without any special attachment to a particular type of sin; the “sick” he describes as those wholly overcome by a distinct manner of sinful extravagance, such as excessive gambling, or the frequenting of houses of ill repute. Finally, Origen identifies those who are “asleep” – with a direct reference to 1 Corinthians 11:30 – as the ones who are neither weak nor sick, but rather susceptible to any manner of “dreamlike fancy” that may assail them, and so are quite unpredictable in their behavior, and therefore “impotent” in relation to the divine principle. This tripartite distinction is indicative of Origen’s tendency to adopt Platonic interpretive schemas and adapt them to a Christian world-view. Origen’s concept of the soul, adopted more or less directly from the Middle Platonism of a philosopher like Plutarch, serves as the basis for his sickness/weakness/slumber trichotomy.

II.

In certain strands of Neoplatonism, the highest part of the soul is considered to be more susceptible to influence from the lower realm. In other words, the higher the principle, the lower it descends. As John Dillon has put it, “the lower down the scale of nature an entity is situated, the more closely it is linked with higher principles” (Dillon 1982, 23). This is a component of the metaphysics of Iamblichus and, perhaps, Syrianus.[2] These philosophers are later than Origen, but may bear witness to concepts going back at least as far as Numenius, and perhaps even to Ammonius Saccas, under whom Origen studied (although, unfortunately, Ammonius wrote nothing). This principle of divine energies growing stronger the farther down the scale of being they descend was used as a justification for theurgy – i.e., the use of stones and plants in magical rites, with the assumption that these more basic existents participate more intimately in the divine life, due to their relative simplicity in relation to humans. The implication of Origen’s schema, that the souls that have fallen farthest from God – i.e., the “sick” – are in a sense ‘closer’ to Him, by virtue of the increase in divine power required to effect their healing, seems to me not unrelated to the pagan Neoplatonic theory.

According to Origen, there are those “that despise the word when it is declared and preached to them and consequently are visited with God’s corrections and chastisements and pressed into salvation and whose conversion is as it were compelled and extorted.” There are even those for whom “God provides special occasions for salvation” (De Principiis 3.5.8, tr. Butterworth 1966, 244). Just as inanimate objects and so-called ‘senseless’ creatures likes plants require a more “piercing” (drimuteran) divine presence to sustain their existence (cf. Olympiodorus, In Alcibiadem 110.13-111.2 Westerinck), so the more sinful, i.e. “sicker,” soul, requires more divine power to educate it, and finally lead it back to the Father. Origen affirms that God rules over even the most wicked beings, “in the same way as we say that man rules over irrational animals, – not by persuasion, but as one who tames and subdues lions and beasts of burden. Nevertheless, He leaves no means untried to persuade even those who are still disobedient to submit to His authority” (Contra Celsum 8.15 [ANF 4:645]). Basically, the “sicker” the soul, the more work God has to do to accomplish the soul’s salvation. The relationship between God and humanity is essentially pedagogical, even if this pedagogy takes on, in cases of acutely recalcitrant souls, severe measures. Although, as Origen states time and again, the soul’s act of conversion is always a product of its free will.

Origen’s psychology is a complicated matter. The sources are by no means clear, and interpretations vary. However, as Hans Jonas (1974) has adequately established, in his careful reading of the schema of the De principiis, Origen’s basic concept of the soul consists in the following: (1) The soul has its origin in the creative (demiurgic) mind of God, and is therefore essentially divine. (2) The soul’s fall into separation from God, and thence sin, is the result of the divine gift of free will. In other words, the soul has fallen because it has improperly exercised this wondrous gift of God. (3) God never abandons the products of His own mind, and so salvation is guaranteed for all souls – including the soul of Satan – since God cares for His own.

Origen’s argument regarding the sickness of the soul and divine healing, then, runs as follows: sickness descends into the entire soul because it originates in the higher part of the soul; weakness is not so bad, for it remains in the intermediate stage of psychic malfunction; slumber is a general incapacity of the soul, though requiring divine grace to heal it. Origen does not deny the efficiency of grace (or divine energeia) in the world, but rather recognizes the manner in which the soul – in its various parts – responds to grace, or not. Just as sickness descends into the entire soul, so must grace (kharis) descend into the entire soul. Only through a transformative exchange can the soul and God become active partners though divine grace and human freedom, working synergistically. “Origen regularly associates the power of grace with the saving presence of the Logos. Dead through sin, we are miraculously restored to life by the command and synergeia of the Logos” (O’Leary 2004, 116). Origen’s concept of healing involves an ongoing paideia, the education of the soul through various ages, and is not confined to this life alone.

Origen takes time and history into consideration. Life must unfold in time, and healing must occur in time. And the grace of God, timeless as it is, must also manifest itself in time. Sickness, weakness, and slumber, all of those states, are susceptible to healing. God heals all. Such is Origen’s thesis. The one who is sick responds to this grace more quickly, for it is only through a free acceptance of God’s grace that the soul can survive (cf. De Principiis 3.1.12-18). The weak soul responds weakly, for it is not entirely aware of its state. The slumbering soul immediately responds, eagerly, for upon awakening, such a soul desires, naturally, to return to its source: God.

III.

It may be argued, in light of contemporary ethical theory, that the lines separating sickness, weakness, and slumber are not only blurry, but nonexistent; for one type of sin may easily morph into another. However, according to Origen, such is not the case; for the self-aware person will combat sinfulness to the proportional extent to which s/he contemplates God. The Platonic concept of the soul’s “awareness” (sunaisthęsis)[3] of its embodied state – with a view to breaking the somatic bonds that hold it to earth – coupled with a Christian conception of divine paideia and eventual reconciliation with the Most High (the eternal generator of the primordial minds that later became souls), leads to an understanding of the manner in which God heals sinful souls. So, only when one understands Origen’s overall metaphysical schema, as elaborated in the De Principiis, and his onto-theology, as developed in the Commentary on John, will one be able to appreciate his nuanced view of the various stages of human sinfulness, and the manner in which they are healed by an awareness of the transcendent mind that we all share through communion with the Godhead.

It may seem like a comforting platitude to say that the first step toward spiritual healing is to recognize one’s sin(s). But for Origen, the first step is taken by God. Origen writes, in the De Principiis: “our perfection does not come to pass without our doing anything, and yet it is not completed as a result of our efforts, but God performs the greater part of it” (3.1.19, tr. Butterworth 1966, 199). This is the most important point in his entire doctrine of human existence and divine paideia, resulting in the restoration of all (apokatastasis). Unaided human effort, as powerful as it may be, simply cannot heal a diseased soul, nor awake the slumbering soul. We all need an alarm clock in the morning, to get up on time to arrive at this conference, for example. And many times, we need someone else to tell us just how badly we’re behaving. We may resent the interference at first, but if we’re honest with ourselves, we usually realize that we have been faltering, and then strive to correct the situation. But the greatest interventionist of all, Jesus Christ, is the person Origen mentions when dealing with sickness, weakness, and slumber. Whether it’s something serious and potentially lethal, such as drug addiction or prostitution, or merely a tendency to lose one’s temper while standing on line at the supermarket, or to make a rude gesture when cut off on the highway – whatever our peccadillo, God can – and does – heal it.

It is important, in closing, to note that Origen’s Platonism was not a crutch used by him, for the purpose of making sense of difficult Christian notions. Rather, Origen found in Platonism (following his predecessor, St. Clement) a template through which to inscribe notions of God that serve to elucidate the difficult concept of god-manhood or, as we Orthodox say, theôsis. We will never be finished with the reading of Origen, it seems, for so many have written so differently on his contribution to our tradition. For that very reason, I feel it is important to focus on the spiritually uplifting message of the great Alexandrian, and find it in our hearts to not only allow God to heal us, but to help Him heal every being in this fallen creation.

Works Cited

Butterworth, G.W. (tr.) 1966. Origen, On First Principles. New York: Harper and Row.

Cooper, J.M. 1997. Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis: Hackett.

Dillon, John. 1977. The Middle Platonists. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

_____. 1982. “Origen’s Doctrine of the Trinity and Some Later Neoplatonic Theories.” In Neoplatonism and Christian Thought, ed. Dominic J. O’Meara. Norfolk, VA: International Society for Neoplatonic Studies.

Jonas, Hans. 1974. “Origen’s Metaphysics of Free Will, Fall, and Salvation: A ‘Divine Comedy’ of the Universe.” In Philosophical Essays: From Ancient Creed to Technological Man. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

O’Leary, Joseph S. 2004. “Grace.” In The Westminster Handbook to Origen, ed. John Anthony McGuckin. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press.

Abbreviations

ANF = Ante-Nicene Fathers

NPNF = Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Series II

Notes:

[1] This is a revised version of a paper presented at the conference on “Sickness and Healing in the Patristic Period,” Pappas Patristic Institute, Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology (Brookline, MA), October 4-6, 2007.

[2] Proclus defends a position rather different from that of the above-mentioned, but it can also be used as an aid in understanding Origen’s metaphysics of the soul. See Proclus, Elements of Theology, propositions 23 and 24. The Christian Neoplatonist Elias (or David) offers a dicussion of this position in his Commentary on Aristotle’s Categories 123.2 (with reference to Iamblichus). This alternative, Proclean argument, runs thus: the highest part of the soul is that in which the middle part participates; the middle part affects the lower part by activity (energeia), but the lower part participates in no principle whatsoever.

[3] An excellent discussion of sunaisthęsis occurs in Plotinus, Ennead> 1.1 (esp. sec. 11), where the “beastly” soul is described as the result of a loss of “awareness” of the intimate connection of the highest soul (the “We”) with its principle.