

And in order to appreciate what Origen says about incarnation we must first enter the landscape of his mind, and it is in many ways alien territory. But in order to understand what he says or suggests about reincarnation, we need to know what he says about incarnation, both our own incarnation and Christ’s. He was a scholar, a teacher, and a daring thinker.Īs my title suggests, I will be speaking about reincarnation and universal salvation in Origen’s theology. Nicknamed “Adamantius,” he was the first “man of steel”-although it is perhaps better to think of the etymology of this title, adamas or “untameable,” for there is indeed something wild and untamed about his thinking. If you died for the faith, this reasoning went, then you must have been held the right belief, orthodoxia.īetween these violent bookends, Origen led a life of learning. He was only a “confessor.” Ironically, had he died a martyr, he probably would never have been condemned as a heretic, because martyrdom tended to inoculate someone from the suspicion of heresy.

That he did not yield, or die in their custody, but expired only later from his wounds meant that he was not, strictly speaking, like his father, a “martyr”-a witness to his faith unto death. His tormenters wanted him to yield so that they would have a prominent apostate with which to embarrass the church. His was a life bookended by persecution: his father killed for his faith when Origen was only sixteen years old Origen himself died from tortures suffered under the persecution of the emperor Decius in the year 253 or 254. Origen was born in Alexandria in the late second century to Christian parents who gave him a pagan name: Ôrigenês, “child of Horus,” the falcon-headed sky god of the Egyptian pantheon. What does this mean for the ongoing relationship of orthodoxy and heresy? What does it mean that the architects of orthodoxy drunk deep from the well of a man whose views were subsequently regarded as beyond the pale? Is his influence still felt in the tradition as if it were an underground river, a source of sustenance just beneath the orthodox surface? And is it time to bring that source to the surface? These saints were avid readers of Origen, in some cases even anthologizing or translating his work for wider audiences.

The icon captures the historical irony that this heretic taught the saints. Notice, however, that Origen has no halo: he is not a saint. Collectively they are “the saints” and we can read their names from the saintly halos around each of their heads. If these names are unknown to you, suffice to say they are the men and women whom the tradition remembers as the architects and defenders of Christian orthodoxy, the authors and advocates of the Christian councils and creeds. Behind them are rows of other mothers and fathers of the early church, from both the Greek and Latin traditions. You will notice that Origen is preaching from a pulpit, from a scroll that reads, “attend above all else to the reading of the scriptures.” Below him bent in pious attention to his words, are a crowd of characters, including in the first row, right to left, Gregory of Nazianzus, Gregory Thaumaturgus or the “Wonder-Worker,” Melania the Elder, Maximus the Confessor, and Gregory of Nyssa. I will return to the circumstances that led to his condemnation later, but right now I want to draw your attention to a fantastic irony embedded in the icon. The fact that a modern orthodox iconographer has chosen to paint or “write” an icon of Origen suggests that there are others, like me, who would like to see him rehabilitated in the church. There are no ancient icons of Origen because he was declared a heretic in the sixth century, almost exactly 300 years after his death, and the orthodox church does not generally preserve icons of heretics. It is a modern icon, by an iconographer named Eileen McGuckin. I’d like to begin my talk with the image on your handout. It’s a great honor to give one of this year’s Price lectures. Photo: Justin KnightĬharles Stang, director of the Center for the Study of World Religions and Professor of Early Christian Thought, delivered the first Price Lecture of 2019 at Trinity Church Boston on March 10, 2019.įirst of all, I’d like to thank Bill, Patrick, and Rita, and the entire Trinity community for the opportunity to be with you this afternoon and to share my passion for early Christian thought.
