Origen and Prophecy Fate Authority Allegory and The Structure of Scripture Claire Hall Download PDF Chapter

Origen and Prophecy: Fate, Authority,
Allegory, and the Structure of Scripture

Claire Hall
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/origen-and-prophecy-fate-authority-allegory-and-the-s
tructure-of-scripture-claire-hall/
Introduction
In 235 ad, following an explosion of tensions with his bishop Demetrius, Origen
left his home city of Alexandria for Caesarea in Palestine. As he fled Egypt, he
would have been acutely aware that his journey mirrored the biblical exodus of
the ancient Israelites led by Moses, an event which he frequently employed as a
metaphor in his sermons and letters.1 So hasty was his departure that he left behind
part of the manuscript of a work he had been writing for much of his life, the
monumental Commentary on John. He had, as he somewhat acerbically remarks
in a later book of the Commentary, to wait a long time before he could find and
employ stenographers to resume his writing.
Origen had lived all of his life up to that point—some fifty years—in
Alexandria.2 He had survived persecution and poverty to become a renowned
teacher and scholar. During the long and tedious journey to Palestine, he must
have worried about his future. He lived in an uncertain and vacillating age. As a
young man he saw his father martyred; as an old man, he was himself arrested and
tortured for his Christian faith. Despite these violent bookends to his life, Origen
also experienced mainstream cultural acceptance: he was much in demand as a
visiting teacher and travelled widely, even to lecture in the court of Julia Mamaea,
the mother of the emperor Severus Alexander.
Many people in the ancient world would have consulted a prophet or diviner
before embarking on a journey such as Origen’s. For many in the ancient—and
indeed, the modern—world, the job of a prophet was to foretell the future, to
1 In particular, he often uses the metaphor of the ‘Egyptian Gold’: when the Israelites left Egypt
they took a great deal of gold from the Egyptians. Origen describes this as an apt analogy for how
Christians should view pagan philosophy; the analogy structures much of his thinking about his pagan
predecessors. Letter to Gregory Thaumaturgus 1–2: ‘I wish to ask you to extract from Greek philosophy
whatever is a preparation for Christianity . . . And perhaps something of this kind is foreshadowed in
what is written in Exodus from the mouth of God, that the Israelites were ordered to seek from their
neighbours silver and gold vessels and clothing—so that, by stealing from the Egyptians, they might
have material for the journey in preparation for the service of God.’ For a complete history of this
metaphor in patristic thought, cf. Allen (2008).
2 In his vast corpus of work, Origen gives us few autobiographical details. Much of our information
comes instead from his followers, particularly Gregory Thaumaturgus, whose Panegyric gives us some
vital details about his teaching in later life, and Eusebius, who wrote a short biography of Origen. Other
sources include his translators, Jerome and Rufinus, and various later historians, including Socrates
Scholasticus, Epiphanius, and the Byzantine patriarch Photius. The careful work of Pierre Nautin has
sorted through those reliable—and those less reliable—elements of Eusebius’s account. cf. Nautin
(1977). Scholarly biographies since have refined our knowledge of Origen’s life further. cf. Crouzel
(1989), Heine (2010), and Trigg (1983).
Origen and Prophecy: Fate, Authority, Allegory, and the Structure of Scripture. Claire Hall, Oxford University Press.
© Claire Hall 2021. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192846648.003.0001
2 origen and prophecy
provide a little certainty in a harsh and changeable world. I suspect Origen did
not consult anyone. He would have considered scripture to be all the guidance he
needed. For him, prophecy was a serious force: sometimes it involved straight-
forward prediction, but it also included the fire and brimstone of Jeremiah and
Samuel, aimed at turning errant human beings back to God; it encompassed
the great messianic proclamations of Isaiah and Moses, too grand to be mere
forecasting, and the mystic revelations of Daniel and John of Patmos. For Origen,
prophecy was no less than the ‘knowledge through reason of the cosmos and of the
functioning of the elements and of time’—an extraordinary definition to which I
will return several times in the course of this book.
As somebody who had been trained in Classics, I was not prepared for this
cosmic dimension to prophecy in Origen’s thinking. I had thought of prophecy
as an analogue of divination: a spontaneous prediction of the future, exemplified
by the prophetesses at oracle sites. While there are occasional examples in Greco-
Roman antiquity of prophets who claim to know everything—‘things that were,
that were to be, and that had been’3—they are the exception, not the rule. And
while Origen mostly discusses prophecy in relation only to biblical prophets,
sometimes he also refers to forms of pagan prophecy or divination, such as
oracles or astrology, and his discussions move across a wide range of philosophical
concerns related to prophecy.
Origen is frequently hailed as the most important Christian writer of his period,
and the first systematic theologian. When I began this work, I wanted to know
whether there was a system to his thinking about prophecy. How were all of these
quite different topics—future-telling, moral leadership, mystical revelation—
contained in the single word ‘prophecy’ (προφητεία)? This book attempts to
answer that question. I present a new account of Origen’s concept of prophecy
which takes its cue from Origen’s own testimony of the structure of his thought.
In his major philosophical work, On First Principles, Origen sets out a method for
reading scripture which he believed other Christians should adopt. He argues that
scripture can be read as having three different senses: the straightforward, or what
he calls ‘somatic’ (bodily) sense; the moral, or what he calls ‘psychic’ (soul-ish)
sense; and the mystical, or ‘pneumatic’ (spiritual) sense. This threefold structure,
says Origen, underpins the whole structure of scripture and is intimately linked
through Christ with the structure of the Holy Trinity.
In this book, I want to illustrate how Origen thought about prophecy using
the same threefold structure, with somatic (future-telling), psychic (moral),
and pneumatic (mystical revelatory) senses. This may seem an arcane piece of
archaeopsychology: after all, why does it matter how somebody in the third
3 Iliad 1.70: ὃς ᾔδη τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα. Calchas, the Argive seer, is described
in these terms; while Homer never elaborates on what exactly this means, Calchas does seem to have
access to knowledge of the will of the gods as well as being able to predict the future.
introduction 3
century taxonomized an already abstract concept? The answer will take us through
several centuries of Greek, Jewish, and Christian thinking about prophecy,
divination, time, human nature, autonomy and freedom, allegory and metaphor,
and the role of the divine in the order and structure of the cosmos. Origen’s way
of thinking about prophecy was unique, certainly, but it built on philosophical
changes already underway in the writings of his predecessors and contemporaries,
including Plutarch, Philo, Philostratus, Alexander of Aphrodisias, Justin Martyr,
Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Clement of Alexandria.
To study a concept of prophecy in the thought of somebody like Origen allows
us access to a great number of debates that were, in the third century, at the
cutting edge of philosophy and theology. But it also serves as a stark reminder that
the way we as modern people divide intellectual and religious history can bear
little resemblance to the categories—such as ‘prophecy’—used by thinkers on the
ground. Origen lived in a period in which the Roman Empire was undergoing huge
political, social, and religious upheaval. Over the course of the third century ad,
a total of thirty different emperors claimed the title, many of whose reigns only
lasted a few months.⁴ Many religious institutions and practices were undergoing
profound change, and concepts like sacrifice, divination, prophecy, and holiness
were in flux. Through the course of his life, there was a great increase in the
popularity of mystery cults and solar-based religions.⁵ By and large these were
seen by the traditional pagan elite—and have been seen by scholars since—as a
degeneration of religious customs, a weakening of traditional religious life. Texts
such as Plutarch’s On Why the Oracles Are Silent have traditionally been read as
a narrative of the unstoppable decline of pagan prophecy. Yet other—not much
later—works dealing with the subject of prophecy tell a different story: for example,
Origen’s near-contemporary Philostratus, writing about Apollonius of Tyana, an
itinerant prophet of the previous century, portrays him as a true prophet, able to
discern ‘everything that is and will be, like a reflection in a mirror’.⁶
It is not just Origen’s life that is hard to place in context. Posthumously, he
was also an ambiguous figure, particularly following his condemnation in 553 ad.
From the middle ages onwards, his huge significance for Christian philosophy has
always been tacitly acknowledged, but it is only in the last century or so that his
work has been openly defended within the Church.⁷ His difficult status has had
a major effect on the way in which he is studied; scholars have scrutinized his
philosophical background more closely and sceptically than those of other early
Christian writers. On the one hand, there are those who argue that Origen was,
in essence, a Platonist with a veneer of Christianity, and on the other, those who
argue that his work has little in common with Platonism and should be understood
⁴ In Origen’s lifetime alone there were twenty-one.

⁵ In particular, Mithraism and the cult of Sol Invictus. See e.g. Halsberghe (1972) and Turcan (1981).
⁶ Philostratus Life of Apollonius 8.7. ⁷ See e.g. John Paul II (1998).
instead in a tradition of mystic Christian spirituality.⁸ While the debate has largely
run its course⁹ it has left its mark on the way in which philosophical concepts in
Origen’s work are studied.
Origen also sits at an awkward meeting-place of different academic disciplines.
For those working in Theology or Religious Studies, it is natural to focus on
Origen’s approach to scripture and his investigation of key theological concepts,
such as the nature of God, Christ, good, and evil. But these topics—especially
the fact that much of his work consists of line-by-line exegesis of the Bible—
have meant that he remains underappreciated by those working in Classics and
Ancient Philosophy while not being late enough to fit into Late Antique Studies.
He therefore tends to appear—with some notable exceptions—only in footnotes to
works on more squarely Classical (i.e. pagan) thinkers. In this book, I try to move
past these categorizations of Origen. I am interested in how Origen’s thinking
about prophecy relates to the wider structures and themes in his work, and in
how it fits into a rapidly changing landscape of pagan, Jewish, and early Christian
religiosity.
⁸ The former view prevailed for much of the early twentieth century, especially in German-language
scholarship, cf. Miura-Stange (1926), Campenhausen (1955), Ivanka (1964), and still occasionally
today, e.g. John Paul II (1998). The latter view was more popular in French scholarship, particularly in
French monographs of the first half of the twentieth century. cf. De Faye (1926) and Daniélou (1948).
It also gained ground in the latter half of the century, particularly following the work of Henri Crouzel.
See Crouzel (1961). cf. also Trigg (1983), Alviar (1993), and Laporte (1995).
⁹ Thanks mostly to Mark Edwards’ reframing of the terms at stake; Edwards emphatically argues
that Origen was not in any meaningful sense a Platonist despite his deep knowledge of Platonism, as
well as Stoic and Peripatetic philosophy. cf. Edwards (2002). I will start from this third position, with
the assumption that both Origen’s piety and his background of Platonic education are moot. To frame
discussions of Origen’s thought solely around this dichotomy seems to me to vastly oversimplify the
religious milieu of third century Alexandria, where a complex set of worldviews was combined and
contested in the academies and on the streets.
1
Defining Prophecy
Belongs to the Emperor

Is a suckling pig
Looks like a fly from a distance
—Jorge Luis Borges, “The Analytical Language of John Wilkins”
In The Order of Things, Michel Foucault argues that knowledge-ordering schemes

are always culturally specific.1 He makes use of an example from Jorge Luis
Borges’s 1942 essay “The Analytical Language of John Wilkins”, in which Borges
discusses a fictional ancient Chinese encyclopaedia, the Celestial Emporium of
Benevolent Knowledge.2 The Celestial Emporium is a taxonomy of animals that
splits them not along familiar Linnaean lines, but instead into fourteen categories
whose systematizing principle is—to the (presumed) modern Western reader3—
unclear. This raises an initial question: is there no principle at all, or is there one
that is obscure? No system of knowledge-ordering, Foucault argues, can assume
that its categories are obvious or intrinsic to its subject matter, or even mutually
comprehensible between cultures or time periods. As Borges’s essay points out, our
sense of what is intuitive in a subject like the taxonomy of animals is an accident of
history and geography; some ways of thinking from other places, times, or cultures
are very different from our own ways of thinking. Borges, no doubt, would wish us
to take this startling fictional example as a cautionary tale for uncritically assuming
we understand more familiar cultures.
This insight is particularly pertinent in the case of prophecy. In English, we
use the same word, ‘prophecy’, to convey two (or more) different meanings. Most
straightforwardly, we use ‘prophecy’ as a concrete noun, to refer to things which
have been said or written prophetically, for example in the statement ‘The wizard’s
prophecy refers to the miller’s daughter’. But sometimes ‘prophecy’ is an abstract
noun, taking in a whole set of interrelated concepts. It includes specific spoken or
written prophecies, but also all the processes and cultural norms that generate and
govern them, for example in the sentence ‘Prophecy played an important role in
rural England in the 13th century’ or ‘Witches were considered to be proficient at
1 Foucault (1970). 2 Borges (1952).

3 I note the (undoubtedly deliberate) orientalizing connotations of this example: that Chinese culture
is, to the Western eye, quirky; nevertheless, these connotations help to strengthen the overall point of
the example, which is to highlight the cultural disjunct between knowledge-ordering schemes—and
therefore the possibility for both misunderstanding and judgement.
prophecy’. Sometimes ‘prophecy’ even refers to a specific physical or textual form:

‘The wizard went from door to door selling prophecies.’ Admittedly, this last usage
is rarer and highly context-dependent, but it features in texts from antiquity as
well as contemporary texts. In Rabbinic scholarship as far back as Origen’s period,
‘prophecy’ or often just ‘prophets’ referred not to specific prophecies or prophets
but to the canonical prophetic books of the Tanakh. In the news media and arts
criticism, however, the term ‘prophet’ regularly means little more than ‘harbinger’
or even ‘person on the cutting edge’. Additionally, although some religious and
political leaders self-style or are styled by others as prophets (or false prophets),
religious prophecy as a contemporary force is peripheral to the majority of people
in the West, even to many religious people. This, of course, contrasts sharply with
its status as a major cultural and religious force in other parts of the world.
Scholarly categories do very little to ease any of this confusion. The study of
prophecy crosses a great number of different disciplinary boundaries, including
philosophy, theology, history, anthropology, and psychiatry. But, as Laura Nas-
rallah argues, this can obscure the fact that in both Greco-Roman and Jewish
antiquity ‘dreams, prophecies, visions, and oracles were understood to be part of
the same basic phenomenon’. ⁴ How should we go about placing Origen in all of
this? A natural starting point might be conceptual histories of prophecy in early
Christianity. Scholars have written a number of general histories of prophecy in
the early Church,⁵ many of which unpick the complex ecclesiastical politics of
claims to prophetic inspiration. But the general picture of prophetic movements
in the third century and earlier gives us remarkably little insight into Origen’s
view of the topic.⁶ In fact, Origen hardly ever mentions ecclesiastical politics or
even contemporary prophetic movements. While Origen’s views on prophecy were
undoubtedly shaped in some ways by events in the world around him, much
of his writing and thinking about prophecy has a timeless, unplaceable feel to
it. He writes primarily on Greek oracles, Old Testament prophets, and abstract
philosophical notions of what a prophet might know and how they might know
it. To understand him on these topics, it is not sufficient to ground ourselves only
in biblical or contemporary definitions of prophecy: we must also know what he
might have read or picked up from the many centuries of philosophical thought
about prophecy that went before him.
⁴ Nasrallah (2003b), p. 1.
⁵ There is a set of source and methodological problems which complicates much scholarship written
in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries on the history of prophecy in the early Church. Several
major histories from before the 1960s that are still in use base their narratives on a problematic claim
that it is a universal anthropoligical truth that ‘primitive’ societies go through a phase of shamanistic
prophecy which becomes increasingly institutionalized within bureaucratic structures—such as the
Christian Church. e.g. Campenhausen (1955) identifies the relationship between individual prophets
and the Church as the focal point of study of Christian prophecy in the first three centuries. Adolf
von Harnack’ work and that of E. R. Dodds take the same line. cf. Harnack (1908) and Dodds (1965).
These histories tend to rely on problematic central assumptions, often relying on outdated and racist
anthropological literature such as e.g. Tylor (1871). For a further discussion of the problems of this
literature, see Nasrallah (2003b).
⁶ An excellent account of the so-called ‘Montanist’ or Phrygian movement is Nasrallah (2003b). The
most comprehensive work on the Marcionite movement, which rejected prophecy, is Lieu (2015).
defining prophecy 9
But if we turn to histories of prophecy in Jewish or in Greco-Roman thought,

we are faced with another methodological hurdle: we do not, for example, need
to know the precise details of institutional shifts in the practice of prophecy in
the Early Second Temple to understand how Origen views the Old Testament
prophets. But it would be foolish to assume that he was not influenced at all
by Jewish thought about prophecy in his own time and the decades before him.
Similarly, while Origen would not have had an up-to-date knowledge of the
geology of Delphi, we must—for example—be attentive to any significant shifts in
oracle consultation practices in the late Hellenistic period which may have affected
how he understood oracles. In the rest of this chapter I attempt to ground the
reader in some scholarly definitions of prophecy from these various fields. Then I
turn more specifically to early Christian definitions, Origen’s own definitions, and
scholars’ interpretations of Origen’s views on prophecy. First, let us look at the
terminology used in Greek and Latin to talk about the phenomenon of prophecy.
1.1 Terminology
In a long and varied life, Origen wrote an enormous quantity. While not all of his
work has survived—much was destroyed after his condemnation in 553—we do
have a large number of his texts. Of those works that did make it, a number survive
only in translations made from Greek into Latin by Rufinus of Aquilea (c.340–410)
and by Jerome (347–420). A lot of Origen’s work is exegetical: we know of 574
homilies (of which we have 250 in Latin translations and fifty in the original Greek)
and four long commentaries. Other works include philosophical disquisitions (one
long, On First Principles, and three shorter), works of polemic (including Against
Celsus, a lengthy rebuttal of a long-dead pagan critic), and a large textual critical
work, the Hexapla, which does not survive.
Just as English does not distinguish between prophecy as a concrete and abstract
noun, neither do Greek or Latin, the languages in which we have Origen’s texts. The
lack of clarity over the term ‘prophecy’ in all three languages makes it very hard to
see exactly which concept is being employed in different texts and contexts, both
in Origen’s own work and in the secondary literature. To aid with clarity, below is
a short summary of the terminology in use in Greek and Latin texts, including the
terms used by Origen and his translators.
1.1.1 Greek
The prefix προ is used in nearly all verbs of prophesying, and straightforwardly
has the sense of ‘before’, both spatially and in time.⁷ The most usual verbs for
⁷ cf. 1694 Smyth (1920), p. 384.

prophesying or foreseeing are προλέγω, προφήμι, προεπίσταμαι⁸ and

προγιγνώσκω,⁹ with its related noun / adjective pair προγνώσις / προγνωστικός,
from which we get ‘prognosis’ and ‘prognostic’. This term is used in medical
literature with the same meaning as the English transliteration,1⁰ but is also used
to mean ‘foreknowledge’ in astrological literature11 and in the Septuagint and
Greek New Testament.12
Other less commonly used verbs of foreseeing or foreknowing attested
in various Classical writers include προαθρέω,13 προβλέπω1⁴ (with adjective
προβλεπτικός, ‘able to foresee’1⁵), προγνωρίζω,1⁶ and προδέρκομαι.1⁷ Several verbs
imply explicit pronouncement of the prophetic knowledge (with more or less
public connotations), including προαγορεύω,1⁸ and προθεσπίζω.1⁹ Compare these
with, for example, προεῖπον (to declare publicly), attested widely with no futurative
sense.2⁰ There is a class of verbs used of omens that denote showing or signifying
ahead of time, used most properly of the objects of divination. These include
προαποσημαίνω,21 προδείκνυμι,22 and προδηλόω.23 Some have specific religious
connotations, like προκαταμαντεύομαι (to divine).2⁴
Across all periods, the most commonly used nouns for ‘prophet’ and ‘seer’
are προφήτης2⁵ and μαντίς.2⁶ More specifically used of oracles are φάτις,2⁷
θέσπισμα,2⁸ and χρησμολογία2⁹ (or χρηστήριον).3⁰ μαντεῖον31 has its own set of
derived terms including μαντεία32 (oracular activity / divination). The simplest
term for ‘prophecy’ is προφητεία.33 Of oracular activity in general, Plutarch uses
⁸ LSJ p. 1488, e.g. Plato, Gorgias 459e; Xenophon, Cyropaedia 4.3.12.

⁹ LSJ p. 1473. Used in philosophy (e.g. Plato Symposium 219e) and medical texts (Hippocrates
Prognostics 1).
1⁰ LSJ p. 1473, e.g. Hippocrates, Prognostics; Galen, On the Art of Medicine 4.90.
11 LSJ p. 1473, Used of astrologers by Vettius Valens, Anthology 37.28.
12 e.g. Judges 9:6 (LXX); Acts 2:23, 1 Peter 1:2 (SBLGNT).
13 LSJ p. 1466, Eustathius On the Necromancer, against Origen 86.41.
1⁴ LSJ p. 1471, e.g. Psalms 36 (LXX), but used as ‘provide against’ in Heraclitus, On Unbelievable
Tales 11.
1⁵ LSJ p. 1471, Eustathius On the Necromancer, against Origen 83.33.
1⁶ LSJ p. 1473, Aristotle Topics 141b12.
1⁷ LSJ p. 1474, e.g. Aeschylus Prometheus Bound 250.
1⁸ LSJ p. 1465–7, Used straightforwardly as ‘prophesy’ by Xenophon (Symposium 4.5), but more
usually used for ‘proclaim publicly’ (e.g. Herodotus Histories 7.10). Related nouns include προαγόρευμα
(Appian Civil Wars 2.110) and προαγόρευσις (Aristotle, Poetics 1454b5).
1⁹ LSJ p. 1481, e.g. Lucian, Alexander 19. 2⁰ LSJ p. 1476, e.g. Plato Euthyphro 3c.
21 LSJ p. 1469, e.g. Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 18.3.4.
22 LSJ p. 1473, e.g. Herodotus, Histories 1.209.
23 LSJ p. 1474, e.g. Plutarch, Pompey 32, but also used to mean ‘aforesaid’ in Vettius Valens.
2⁴ LSJ p. 1484, e.g. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Rhesus 28.
2⁵ LSJ p. 1540, e.g. Euripides, Rhesus 972. 2⁶ LSJ p. 1080, e.g. Homer, Iliad 1.62.
2⁷ LSJ p. 1919, e.g. Aeschylus Persians 227. 2⁸ LSJ p. 795, e.g. Herodotus Histories 2.29.
2⁹ LSJ p. 2006, e.g. Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca 16.26.
3⁰ LSJ p. 2006, e.g. Euripides Medea 667.
31 LSJ p. 1079, e.g. Homer, Odyssey 12.272. 32 LSJ p. 1079, e.g. Plato Timaeus 71d.
33 LSJ p. 1539, e.g. Lucian Alexander 40. Used widely in the LXX, e.g. 2 Chronicles 15:8.
defining prophecy 11
προδήλωσις3⁴ (prognostication), and its related adjective προδηλωτικός.3⁵ Then

too there are the names of the various mantic arts, which are usually compounds
with μαντεία: πυρομαντεία (divination by fire), κληδομαντεία (divination by
sudden noises), ὀρνιθομαντεία (divination by birds), ὀνειρομαντεία (divination
by dreams), and so on. Other specialized types of diviners include χρῆσμολογοι3⁶
(usually used of travelling oracle-sellers) and ἐγγαστρίμυθοι3⁷ (used sometimes of
necromancers). For prophetic ecstasy, we have ἔκστασις3⁸ which comes ultimately
from the verb ἐξίστημι3⁹ (to stand outside). There is also μανία,⁴⁰ regularly used
both for prophetic ‘mania’ but also as a more generic medical and everyday term
for madness.
Origen’s terminology is fairly simple. He uses προφητεία as his standard
word for prophecy, especially in definitional statements, and variants of the
word appear over 350 times in his corpus.⁴1 His usual words for ‘prophet’ and
‘prophesy’ are προφήτης and προφητεύω.⁴2 For foreknowledge, he uses the usual
phrase προγνώσις τῶν μελλόντων, using this formula both for divine foreknow-
ledge⁴3 and the foreknowledge of agents that he would consider demonic—such as
Apollo.⁴⁴ More interestingly, in cases where Origen does not believe a prophet to
be a true prophet, his terminology varies. Thus of Balaam and Caiaphas—figures
to whom I return in Chapter 6—Origen uses προφητεύει of their prophesying,
but will not describe them as προφῆται, opting instead, in Balaam’s case, for the
fairly neutral μάντις.⁴⁵ In the case of figures who he does not consider legitimately
inspired at all, he uses a completely separate family of words, referring to the Greek
oracles as θεοπρόπων and θεσπίζω and its cognates. For the ecstasy of the Pythia
he uses the usual word, ἔκστασις. I return to these specific examples in the relevant
discussions in Chapter 6 and elsewhere.
1.1.2 Latin
As in Greek, the prefix pro (or, related, prae) begins most Latin verbs that
explicitly denote prophetic activity; the most common of these verbs include
praedico,⁴⁶ profor,⁴⁷ and praenosco.⁴⁸ Less frequently used but still attested are
3⁴ LSJ p. 1474, e.g. Plutarch, Moralia 2.398d. 3⁵ LSJ p. 1474, e.g. [Plato] Definitions 414b.
3⁶ LSJ p. 2006, e.g. Herodotus Histories 1.62. 3⁷ LSJ p. 467, e.g. Hippocrates Epidemics 5.63.
3⁸ LSJ p. 520, e.g. Aristotle Categories 10a1.
3⁹ LSJ p. 595. Used in the Bible for ‘lose consciousness’, cf. Judges 4:21.
⁴⁰ LSJ p. 1078, e.g. Plato, Philebus 45e.
⁴1 e.g. Commentary on Corinthians 55 or Commentary on John 2.208.
⁴2 e.g. Homilies on Luke 6.2. ⁴3 e.g. On Prayer 6.4. ⁴⁴ e.g. Against Celsus 7.3.
⁴⁵ e.g. Commentary on John 28.12. ⁴⁶ OLD p. 1428, e.g. Cicero On the Orator 3.37.
⁴⁷ OLD p. 1477, e.g. Lucretius, On the Nature of Things 1.739.
⁴⁸ OLD p. 1435, e.g. Ovid, Metamorphoses 12.86.
praesentio,⁴⁹ praevideo,⁵⁰ praesago.⁵1 Otherwise, verbs of divination include

divino,⁵2 vaticinor,⁵3 and the pejorative hariolor.⁵⁴
Words for seer vary: there is the rather literary vates,⁵⁵ (or its related noun
vaticinator⁵⁶) used of the Sibyl and others. The term mostly used for oracles is
oraclum,⁵⁷ used of both the site itself and the prophecies delivered. Prophetia and
propheta, as transliterations from the Greek, are used occasionally for prophecy;⁵⁸
for divination generally, the usual word is divinatio.⁵⁹ As in Greek, there is a
specialized vocabulary for different types of divination: haruspex⁶⁰ for somebody
who divines by entrails, augur⁶1 for somebody who divines by the flight of birds,
and so on.
Generally, for ‘prophecy’, Origen’s translators Jerome and Rufinus both use
prophetia, usually separating this from ‘divination’ (divinatio).⁶2 The term
prophetia, while not widely used in Latin, is a direct Greek analogue of προφητεία;
for prophet, they usually use prophetes.⁶3 We can be reasonably sure in these cases
that they are transliterating Origen’s usual Greek terms.
1.2 Definitions of Prophecy
Johannes Lindblom, writing on prophecy in Ancient Israel, gives the following

definition:
[A prophet is] a person who, because he is conscious of having been specially chosen
and called, feels forced to perform actions and proclaim ideas which, in a mental
state of intense inspiration or real ecstasy, have been indicated to him in the form of
divine revelations.⁶⁴
Similarly, Martti Nissinen defines prophecy as ‘the transmission of allegedly divine

messages by a human intermediary to a third party’.⁶⁵ James L. Kugel defines a
prophet as ‘a messenger sent by God to speak on His behalf ’.⁶⁶ Emerging from
these definitions are a few features: first, that a prophet is a type of messenger;
⁴⁹ OLD p. 1440, e.g. Lucretius On the Nature of Things 4.682.

⁵⁰ OLD p. 1449, e.g. Virgil, Aeneid 5.445. ⁵1 OLD p. 1438, e.g. Suetonius On Grammarians 23.
⁵2 OLD p. 564, e.g. Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 1.114.
⁵3 OLD p. 2015, e.g. Pliny, Natural History 28.147.
⁵⁴ OLD p. 786, e.g. Apuleius The Golden Ass 2.7. ⁵⁵ OLD p. 2015, Virgil Aeneid, 6.65.
⁵⁶ OLD p. 2015, e.g. Ovid Letters from Pontus 1.1.42.
⁵⁷ OLD p. 1262, e.g. Virgil Georgics 4.449. ⁵⁸ OLD p. 1492, e.g. Strabo Geography 2.
⁵⁹ OLD p. 564, e.g. Cicero On Divination 2.148.
⁶⁰ OLD p. 787, e.g. Cicero Catiline Orations 3.19.
⁶1 OLD p. 213, e.g. Livy From the Founding of the City 8.23.14.
⁶2 e.g. at Homilies on Numbers 13.6.2, which draws this distinction. See p. 129 of this book.
⁶3 e.g. Homilies on Isaiah 9.1. ⁶⁴ Lindblom (1963), p. 46. ⁶⁵ Nissinen (2000), p. vii.
⁶⁶ Kugel (2007), p. 439.
second, that the prophet acts as some sort of (possibly self-conscious) gateway
between the divine and the human; and third, that the prophet delivers his or her
message to others. Alexander Jassen particularly emphasizes this final element in
his definition: ‘what distinguishes a prophet from any other alleged recipient of
divine revelation is his or her status as a spokesperson to a larger body of people’.⁶⁷
Similarly, Eugene Boring gives the following definition of Christian prophecy:
The early Christian prophet was an immediately inspired spokesperson for the risen
Jesus, who received intelligible messages that he or she felt impelled to deliver to
the Christian community or, as a representative of the community, to the general
public.⁶⁸
However, as mentioned above, the term ‘prophecy’ is sometimes used to refer not
just to the phenomenon of message-giving, but also might include a set of texts
or even the related processes for reading those texts. The above definitions, which
focus only on the activity of messengers in prophecy, do not capture this element.
In the Greco-Roman context, a further complication arises more readily than
in the Jewish context: what is the difference between prophecy and divination?
The Old Testament is very clear that divination of all forms excepting a kind
of priestly lot-casting is prohibited.⁶⁹ Yet, even in the Jewish context, the lines
between prophecy, divination, magic, and various other practices were blurred:
for example, the interpretation of prophetic dreams was not considered a form of
divination in ancient Israel, which it certainly was in Greece and Rome.⁷⁰
Both in Greco-Roman writers and in Classical scholarship, sometimes a
divide is posited between ‘natural’ and ‘technical’ or ‘inspired’ and ‘inductive’
divination.⁷1 Technical or inductive divination involves divination by means of
some sort of skill—sometimes using specialist equipment—which a practitioner
can learn. Natural or inspired divination is seen as an inbuilt and unwilled ability
which a practitioner does not have to learn. Some scholars apply this distinction
to demarcate between inspired Israelite-Jewish prophets and inductive Greek
seers.⁷2 However, as David Aune points out, the distinction does not always apply
neatly. A number of Greco-Roman prophetic figures are clearly inspired diviners—
such as the Pythia at Delphi. Additionally, it is not clear that the Jewish-Israelite
prophets never use deductive methods. For example, some prophets attached to
temple sites in ancient Israel were involved in group stimulation of prophetic
trances through the ritual and performative use of music, movement, and even
⁶⁷ Jassen (2008), p. 300. ⁶⁸ Boring (1991), p. 38.

⁶⁹ Prohibitions of divination occur at: Genesis 44:5; Genesis 44:15; Leviticus 19:26; Numbers 22:7;
Numbers 23:23; Deuteronomy 18:10; 1 Samuel 15:23; 2 Kings 17:17; 2 Kings 21:6; 2 Chronicles 33:6;
Jeremiah 14:14; Ezekiel 12:24; Ezekiel 13:6–7; Ezekiel 13:23; Ezekiel 21:21–3; Micah 3:6; and Acts 16:16.
⁷⁰ Aune (1983), p. 82. ⁷1 For more on the terminology, cf. Bonnechere (2007), p. 150.
⁷2 cf. e.g. Lange (2007).
hallucinogens.⁷3 Indeed, when examined closely, several divinatory and prophetic

techniques suggest a certain mixing of inspired and inductive types: there seems
nothing inherently contradictory in suggesting that somebody could still be an
inspired prophet even if they take some (inductive) steps (such as use of movement
or hallucinogens) to modify their circumstances in order to be more receptive to
inspiration.
In fact, many definitions of prophecy involve—implicitly or explicitly—the
presence of some kind of ecstasy or possession trance.⁷⁴ Models of the possession
trance vary between complete possession (the prophet is not aware of what is
happening, and often ‘wakes’ from the trance with no recollection) and partial
possession (the prophet is aware of what is happening and can interact, and some-
times intervene, with the prophecy). Yet this is not a culturally interchangeable
feature; in some cultural contexts, possession is considered to be an indication
of the falseness of the prophecy being delivered, whereas in others, possession is
viewed in a neutral or even positive aspect.⁷⁵ While these definitions go some way
to establishing lines of inquiry into the phenomenon of prophecy in their various
contexts, for reasons that will become clearer below, none of these definitions of
prophecy works wholesale for Origen. Let us turn to some ancient definitions.
1.2.1 Greek Philosophical Definitions
I return in much greater detail to Plato, the Stoics, and Plutarch at various points
throughout this book. This section is intended to give the reader a flavour of
the lack of clear definition in Greek philosophy of ‘prophecy’ as distinct from
divination. Indeed, the word προφητεία does not appear at all in Plato or Aristotle.
Plato uses προφήτης, but only rarely,⁷⁶ and Aristotle does not use it at all. Plato
does refer to divination frequently. While he does not provide any particular
overarching definitions, many Platonic dialogues make reference to future-telling.
For example, in Phaedrus, Socrates takes it as obvious that oracles can tell the future
and that they frequently do so:
And if we should speak of the Sibyl and others, who have by prophecy (μαντικῇ)
foretold many things to many people and directed their future, it is clear we shall be
speaking for a long time.⁷⁷
⁷3 Aune (1983), p. 86. ⁷⁴ See e.g. Aune (1983), p. 86.

⁷⁵ On these and other grounds, Aune sees limitations in the histories of Christian prophecy by Guy
(1947), Cothenet (1972), and Hill (1979) despite praising a number of their features.
⁷⁶ One of the few examples is in Alcibiades 150a6: ‘so says the god and the prophets of the gods’ (ὥς
φησιν ὁ θεὸς καὶ θεῶν προφήτης).
⁷⁷ Phaedrus 244b.
For Aristotle, prophecy was a bit more ambiguous. His On Divination in Sleep uses
dream interpretation as a case study for thinking about divinatory foreknowledge
more generally. Aristotle examines the widespread acceptance of prophetic dreams
as a legitimate form of knowledge of the future; he concludes that in most cases,
prophetic dreams are coincidental.⁷⁸
Some other Greek philosophical traditions were more explicit in their
support for divination. In particular, the Stoics endorsed divination. Chrysippus
(280–206 bc) does use the term προφητεία but he does so interchangeably with
other terms for divination.⁷⁹ The position of Poseidonius (c.135–c.50 bc), a later
Stoic thinker, can be more clearly gleaned from Cicero’s On Divination.⁸⁰ Two
definitions appear in Cicero’s On Divination where he discusses Stoic views of
divination.⁸1
1. Divination is ‘the presentiment and knowledge of future things’.

2. Divination is ‘the prediction and presentiment of those things which are
thought to occur by chance’.
Middle Platonists generally endorsed divination and prophecy. For example,

Plutarch gives various definitions of prophecy. Several definitions are given in On
the E—an unusual text which discusses the physical form of dedications at the
Delphic temple alongside the famous maxim. One definition of prophecy, given
by Plutarch’s friend Theon, is the following:
The prophetic art deals with that future which is to come out of things present or
things past. Things which come into being follow things which have been, things
which are to be follow things which now are coming into being, all bound in one
continuous chain of development. Therefore he who knows how to link causes
together into one, and combine them into a natural process, can also declare
beforehand things.⁸2
Theon’s argument is that the EI stands for the ‘if ’ of a protasis in a syllogism—and
by it, Apollo is showing us that knowledge of the future, gained through oracles, is
really a form of dialectic reasoning.
The Bible
There is no explicit definition of prophecy in the Old Testament, despite the
centrality of the concept to the various books, stories, and people. While New
⁷⁸ See Gallop (1996). See also Struck (2016), pp. 91–170.

⁷⁹ Fragment 619 of Fragmenta moralia in Chrysippus (1903b).
⁸⁰ For an introduction, see Struck (2016), pp. 171–214.
⁸1 For more on these definitions and their relationship to Chrysippus, see Hahmann (2019).
⁸2 On the E 6.
Testament writers make a number of references to the fulfilment of prophecies

from the Old Testament,⁸3 the mentions of prophecy that make any kind of
definitional points come from just three writers: the author of 2 Peter, the author
of Revelation, and Paul. First, and most straightforwardly, we have a definition of
prophecy from the author of 2 Peter:
First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy (προφητεία) of scripture is a
matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will,
but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.⁸⁴
The passage comes as part of a wider exhortation to believe accounts of Christ’s

glory and thus the definition focuses on the epistemological validity of prophecy
as more-than-human. Origen considered 2 Peter to be spurious, and it is perhaps
for this reason that no definition resembling this appears in his work.⁸⁵
The second set of definitions of prophecy come from Revelation. On the one
hand, the author of Revelation makes a number of references to his own text
as prophetic,⁸⁶ and also giving instructions, sent from Christ, about how (not)
to use the text given its status as a prophetic work—namely, not to ‘seal up’ the
‘words of the prophecy’.⁸⁷ Along with these instructions come warnings about the
consequences of defacing or tampering with the prophetic work.⁸⁸ But alongside
this self-conscious discussion of Revelation’s prophetic status its author makes a
more general statement about prophecy:
Then I fell down at his feet to worship him, but he said to me, ‘You must not do
that! I am a fellow servant with you and your comrades who hold the testimony of
Jesus. Worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy (πνεῦμα τῆς
προφητείας).’⁸⁹
The author of Revelation’s view of prophecy here clearly focuses very heavily on
Christ, a view which Origen will pick up and to which I will return in Chapter 8.
Finally, let us turn to the more extensive definitions and discussions of prophecy
given in the letters of Paul. There is a short comment about prophecy in Romans,
and a much more extensive discussion of it in 1 Corinthians. Both passages discuss
prophecy in the context of a wider discussion about spiritual gifts, and both discuss
prophecy very much as a current and ongoing phenomenon. First, the passage
from Romans:
⁸3 e.g. Matthew 13:14: ‘In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah’, in reference to Isaiah 6:9.
⁸⁴ 2 Peter 1:20–21.
⁸⁵ Eusebius Church History 6.25.8, quoting a lost work of Origen: ‘Peter, on whom the Church of
Christ is built . . . has left one acknowledged epistle; perhaps also a second, but this is doubtful.’
⁸⁶ Revelation 22:7: ‘Blessed is the one who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book.’
⁸⁷ Revelation 22:10. ⁸⁸ Revelation 2:18–19. ⁸⁹ Revelation 19:10.
We have different gifts (χαρίσματα), according to the grace given us. If a man’s gift
is prophesying (προφητείαν), let him use it in proportion to his faith.⁹⁰
The passage from 1 Corinthians goes into further detail on the term ‘gift’, which
Paul describes as ‘the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good’. Other
gifts—alongside prophecy—include ‘the utterance of wisdom’, the ‘utterance of
knowledge’, faith, ‘gifts of healing’, miracle-working, the ‘discernment of spirits’,
‘various kinds of tongues’, and finally the ‘interpretation of tongues’.⁹1 These gifts
are, according to Paul, manifestations of one and the same Holy Spirit, who allots
them to individuals as he chooses. These gifts, however, come with a caveat, found
in Paul’s famous disquisition on the importance of love, where he claims that any
gift of the Holy Spirit still leaves its recipient as ‘nothing’ without love.⁹2 Similarly,
Paul cautions that although individual gifts come from the Spirit, they are neither
complete nor eternal:
Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they
will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and
we prophesy only in part (ἐκ μέρους προφητεύομεν).⁹3
The longest passage of relevance to us is 1 Corinthians 14:1 where Paul focuses

on two specific gifts of the spirit, the gift of prophecy and the gift of speaking in
tongues. He contrasts the two gifts, and makes it clear that prophecy is by far the
superior. Paul’s comments on prophecy as a spiritual gift set it in the context of
other spiritual pursuits of individuals. The focus is neither on the content nor on
the epistemology of prophecy (as in the Johannine definition) but on the moral
status of the prophet and the method by which he or she becomes a prophet. In
both the Pauline and Johannine definitions, there is a notable lack of reference to
what prophets actually prophesy about; while in Revelation, we are told that the
‘testimony of Jesus’ is an integral part of prophecy, no mention is made of future-
telling or access to knowledge unavailable to others. In Paul’s passages, no mention
of content is made at all.
By and large, these comments of Paul’s are seen—both by scholars and in the
wider Christian community—as the most authoritative discussion of prophecy
in the New Testament; the reasons for this are complex and are as much to do
with Paul’s status in New Testament scholarship as with the definition itself. As
Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza has demonstrated, however, this underplays the sig-
nificance for early Christian writers of the Johannine definition from Revelation.⁹⁴
Nasrallah, who discusses Paul’s definition at length, has shown that this definition
participates in a highly rhetorical and highly contested discourse over the nature
⁹⁰ Romans 12:6. ⁹1 1 Corinthians 12:7–11. ⁹2 1 Corinthians 13:2.

⁹3 1 Corinthians 13:8. ⁹⁴ cf. e.g. Fiorenza (1985), 133ff.
of prophecy in the earliest Christian communities, and may not have been so
straightforwardly endorsed by Christians as it is now.⁹⁵ Unfortunately, we do not
have Origen’s comments on either of these verses. In what follows, I assume that
while the definition from 2 Peter is not of much interest to Origen, both the Pauline
and Johannine definitions are pertinent to his understanding of prophecy.
Greek Patristic writers

Definitions of prophecy in Greek Patristic writers of the first two centuries ad
tend to emphasize two features of prophecy. Some of them, like Paul’s definitions
above, focus around the idea of prophecy as a spiritual gift, that is, a fundamentally
moral calling that is there for the edification and education of others. But the other
feature that is emphasized in many definitions is prophecy as a way of predicting
the future. Thus Irenaeus:
Prophecy is the prediction of the future, that is, those things which come afterwards,
through presignification.⁹⁶
This formulation is very close to some pagan definitions of divination. Similarly,

Justin Martyr:
There existed, long before this time, certain men more ancient than all those who are
esteemed philosophers, both righteous and beloved by God, who spoke by the Divine
Spirit, and foretold events which would take place, and which are now taking place.
They are called prophets.⁹⁷
While Justin’s definition has some focus on the character of the prophet (‘righ-
teous’), it is—like that of Irenaeus—primarily focused on the future. However,
some definitions in patristic texts are less about seeing the future than seeing things
hidden to others. Thus Tatian:
God’s spirit is not given to all, but dwelling among some who behaved justly and
being intimately connected with the soul it revealed by predictions to the other souls
what had been hidden.⁹⁸
In this vein, Clement also claims that knowledge of the future as well as the
revelation of mysteries are part of the remit of the prophet:
⁹⁵ Nasrallah (2003b), pp. 61–94. ⁹⁶ Against Heresies 4.34.5. ⁹⁷ Dialogue with Trypho 7.
⁹⁸ Tatian Oration 13.3.
All the prophets who had foretold the coming of the Lord and the holy mysteries that
accompanied him were persecuted and killed, just like the Lord himself, who made
their Scriptures manifest.⁹⁹
Patristic authors also take a range of views on prophetic ecstasy. Athenagoras uses
an image of a divine flautist to distinguish between the insights of a philosopher
and the inspiration of a prophet:
You . . . cannot be ignorant of the writings of Moses or of Isaiah and Jeremiah, and
the other prophets, who, lifted in ecstasy above the natural operations of their minds
by the impulses of the Divine Spirit, uttered the things with which they were inspired,
the Spirit making use of them as a flute-player breathes into a flute.1⁰⁰
From this brief summary we can see that there is a great deal of variety in what
early Christian thinkers consider the fundamental or essential characteristics of a
prophet. Some take prophecy simply to be prediction of the future, some focus on
hidden knowledge, and others highlight the importance of prophetic ecstasy.
1.2.2 Origen
Origen gives two explicit definitions of prophecy, and several explicit definitions
of what a prophet is. One definition of prophecy appears in the catena fragments
of his Commentary on Corinthians and is quite unlike any of the early Christian
definitions explored above:
προφητεία ἐστιν ἡ διὰ λόγου τῶν ἀφανῶν σημαντικὴ γνῶσις, ἡ εἴδησις τῆς τοῦ
κόσμου συστάσεως καὶ ἐνεργείας στοιχείων καὶ χρόνων.1⁰1
Prophecy is knowledge which can signify obscure things through reason [or speech],
the understanding of the structure of the cosmos and of the functioning of the
elements and of time.
I will return to this definition in some detail later in the book. For now, we
may note the breadth of its scope (the structure of the cosmos, functioning of
time), its primary focus on cosmic metaphysical questions, and its use of the
term λόγος, that most versatile of all words in Christian texts, which spans several
possible meanings: speech, dialogue, reason, or Christ. In fact, Origen’s definition
⁹⁹ Stromata 6.15.127.3–128.1. Clement also uses the term ‘prophecy’ to refer to the whole
Septuagint, e.g. Pedagogue 1.11.96.3.
1⁰⁰ Athenagoras, A Plea for the Christians 9. 1⁰1 Commentary on Corinthians 55.
of prophecy here is a near-quotation of the definition of a different concept—

‘wisdom’—given in the apocryphal Jewish text the Wisdom of Solomon.1⁰2
An article by Caroline Bammel examines Origen’s definition.1⁰3 She states with-
out caveat that prophecy is ‘not a kind of γνῶσις or knowledge’.1⁰⁴ She therefore
makes the case that the definition should be punctuated differently so that it is
read as a definition of prophecy (ἡ διὰ λόγου τῶν ἀφανῶν σεμαντική) followed by
a definition of γνῶσις (εἴδησις τῆς τοῦ κόσμου etc.). She translates as follows:
Prophecy is the art of indicating things that are unseen by means of words. Gnosis is
the knowledge of the composition of the universe and of the activity of the elements
and times.1⁰⁵
I do not think this can stand. First, it is not clear why Origen would define these
two terms together in such a way, if not to draw very close links between prophecy
and γνῶσις: this point is all the more acute given the quotation from the Wisdom
of Solomon. Second, as I go on to argue in the rest of this book, prophecy is a type
of knowledge for Origen.1⁰⁶ I believe, therefore, that this definition is deliberately
drawing together notions of wisdom, knowledge, and prophecy.
Origen’s second definition of prophecy, from the catenae of the Fragments on
Matthew, is as follows:
Προφητεία ἐστὶ πρόρρησις μελλόντων, ὧν περατουμένων τέλος ἔχει τὸ ῥηθέν. οὐκ

ἐπειδὴ ἐρρέθη ἐγένετο· τὸ γὰρ τοιοῦτον οὐ προφητεία, ἀλλ’ ἐπειδὴ ἔμελλε γίνεσθαι
ἐρρέθη· καὶ τοῦτο ἡ προφητεία.1⁰⁷
Prophecy is prognostication of the future—of those things, that, when they have
happened, what has been foretold is fulfilled. The prediction did not happen because
it was foretold: for this is not prophecy, but it has been foretold because it will happen
in the future. And this is prophecy.
This definition, with its focus on telling the future, is much more in line with
the other definitions given by patristic writers. It differs insofar as it contains an
important caveat about causality—prophecies do not make things happen, but
are made because the events will happen.1⁰⁸ It is, however, important to note
that understanding Origen’s view of prophecy relies on taking both definitions
1⁰2 Wisdom 7:17–18. I will return to the importance of Origen’s use of this definition for ‘prophecy’
as opposed to ‘wisdom’ in Chapter 8.
1⁰3 Bammel (1989). Harnack rather unhelpfully comments only that this definition is short and
probably originated in Origen’s lessons, cf. Harnack (1919), 123n1: ‘eine kurze Definition, wie sie
Origenes wohl in seinem Unterricht gegeben’.
1⁰⁴ Bammel (1989), p. 489. 1⁰⁵ Bammel (1989), p. 490.
1⁰⁶ I return to Origen’s ideas about knowledge and epistemology in detail in Chapter 8.
1⁰⁷ Fragment 21 on Matthew 1.22, catenae.
1⁰⁸ I return to this issue in detail in Chapter 4.
together: Origen does not count all prediction of the future as prophetic.1⁰⁹
Origen’s definitions of prophets themselves are less abstract, and more in line with
his contemporaries. They include the following, from the Selections on Ezekiel:
προφῆταί εἰσιν οἱ καλῶς διακονοῦντες τῷ λόγῷ τῆς διδασκαλίας, καὶ προφητεύοντες

τὰ τοῦ θεοῦ.11⁰
Prophets are those who serve the word through teaching, and prophesying the things
of God.
We see in this definition the link between prophets and teaching, a link which
Origen also draws in other definitions:
docere autem est prophetare.111

To teach is to prophesy.
In a short book on Origen and prophecy, Gunnar af Hällström emphasizes this

feature in particular, arguing that the more abstract Commentary on Corinthians
definition also emphasizes the importance of teaching:
Both definitions [of prophecy, and of prophets] emphasize that the prophet is a
teacher. Prophecy is σημαντική, it takes place διὰ λόγου and consists in admin-
istering τῷ λόγῳ τῆς διδασκαλίας.112
Hällström gives his own definition of a prophet in Origen’s thought as follows:
The prophet in Origen’s writings is, then, a person ὁρῶν θεόν [seeing God]. His most
important equipment is consequently the ‘eye of the soul’.113
This definition is similar to a definition found in the Homilies of pseudo-Clement:

the prophet is ‘he who sees all’ (ὁ πάντοτε πάντα εἰδώς);11⁴ Hällström points to a
passage of Origen’s Against Celsus which expresses a very similar notion:
εὶ ἐνορῶντες τῷ θεῷ καὶ τοῖς ἀοράτοις τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ μὴ βλεπομένοις αἰσθητῶς καὶ
διὰ τοῦτο οὔσιν αἰωνίοις.11⁵
[The Israelite prophets were] those who were always looking at God and his blessings,
which are not to be perceived by the senses and because of this are eternal.
1⁰⁹ Against Celsus 4.95: ‘It is necessary to realise that foreknowledge of the future is not necessarily
divine; for in itself it is morally neutral and happens to bad and good.’
11⁰ Selections on Ezekiel 13. 111 Commentary on Matthew Commentary Series 49.
112 Hällström (1985), pp. 24–25. 113 Hällström (1985), p. 16.
11⁴ pseudo-Clementine Homilies 6.1. It is highly contested whether the Clementine homilies were
written before Origen’s lifetime. cf. Chapman (1902). For an overview of the debate, see Carlson (2013).
11⁵ Against Celsus 7.7.
Gunnar af Hällström also provides another definition of a prophet in Origen’s

thought, claiming that Origen believes that a prophet is analogous to a sage, ‘more
or less a philosopher’.11⁶ He argues that this portrayal is very much in line with
Philo’s understanding, a topic to which I return in Chapter 5. Yet Hällström takes
a further step:
Origen has also shown, through these definitions, that he does not follow the general
view of (OT) prophecy in early Christianity. Knowledge of the future and of the
human heart are not constituent of this kind of prophecy.
This fits with Hällström’s overall thesis about prophecy in Origen’s thought, which
is that there were two tiers of prophets: the major scriptural prophets, who dealt
with knowledge of Christ, the future of Israel, and major eschatological points; and
the minor ‘second-class’ prophets, who had only local importance and prophesied
on matters of conventional community importance (including prediction of the
future). While prophecy technically culminated in Christ, in reality, Christians
inherited this twofold structure, with the apostles and subsequent ‘charismatic’
teachers—including Origen himself—taking a role like that of the scriptural
prophets, while a large structure of second-class prophets and teachers beneath
them supported them through treatment of less spiritually pressing matters.
Hällström’s taxonomy into first- and second-class prophets rests upon Against
Celsus 1.37, which he uses to argue a strong distinction between the two types of
prophecy in Origen’s thought, not only among Jews, but later, among Christians.
Since this passage of Origen is important for understanding both Hällström’s thesis
and my criticisms, I quote it in full:
It seems to me to have been well established that there were prophets among the Jews
who spoke not only general predictions about the future (προλέγοντες οὐ μόνον τὰ
καθολικὰ περὶ μελλόντων)—such as things about Christ and the kingdoms of the
world and about the events which would happen to Israel, and those peoples that
would believe in the saviour and many other things about him—but also specific
predictions (ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ καθ᾽ ἕνα), such as how the lost donkeys of Kish would be
found, and about the disease that had made the son of the king of Israel ill, and any
other things like this which have been recorded.11⁷
Hällström takes the statement ‘there were prophets among the Jews’ to indicate
two separate statements, each pertaining to one of the two types of prophecy
mentioned in this passage (‘general predictions about the future’ and ‘specific
predictions’). That is to say, he reads ‘there were prophets among the Jews who
11⁶ Hällström (1985), p. 25. 11⁷ Against Celsus 1.37.

uttered general predictions about the future’ and ‘there were prophets among the
Jews who uttered prophecies respecting particular events’, and (implicitly) that
these are two separate groups of people. I think this is stretching the text. The
phrase ‘not only . . . but also’ (οὐ μόνον . . . ἀλλὰ καὶ) is conjunctive, making it clear
that the prophets who utter the general prophecies are the same people as the
prophets who utter the specific prophecies.11⁸ Additionally, Origen emphasizes
this conjunction by claiming that ‘it has been well established’—that is, he feels that
what he is claiming is neither unique to him nor particularly controversial. It would
be unusual if Origen felt that proposing a strict dichotomous hierarchy of prophets
was ‘well established’, given that we see no such claim in any other Christian or
Jewish writer prior to him. Origen’s Against Celsus is a detailed rebuttal of the
work of a previous pagan thinker, Celsus—in places it contains point-by-point
rebuttal. Given this polemical context, I think it is more likely that Origen is, with
this emphatic formulation, rebutting a specific criticism put by Celsus. To me it
seems most likely that Celsus’ objection here is one or both of the following points:
either 1) ‘Jewish/Christian prophets all make general predictions which either

don’t come true or can’t be proved to have come true’
and/or 2) ‘Christians wrongly read fulfilment through Christ into Jewish
prophecies that actually have nothing to do with Christ, and on this basis
claim truth for prophecies that have not been proved true’.
In answering in this way, Origen would be refuting both of these accusations.

Concerning 1), Origen’s rebuttal is that prophets can and routinely do make
prophecies—such as that about the donkeys of Kish—that are subject to post-hoc
verification, and those prophecies are indeed proved to come true. Concerning 2),
his rebuttal is as follows: since the prophets have been proven to be correct in
localized issues of prophecy, we can also trust them in their more general prophe-
cies; Christians are correct to take Christ as the proof of those prophecies. While
Hällström’s distinction between the types of prophecy is supported by the text—
indeed, it is clear from this text that Origen believes different categories or types
of prophecy are possible—there is nothing in Origen’s work to suggest that this
distinction has any parallel in the prophets themselves. In this sense, I also disagree
with this characterization of what it means for a prophet to be a ‘sage’ in Origen’s
thought. While, as I shall argue in Chapter 5, Hällström is right to point out
Origen’s reliance on highly philosophical notions of the sage from both Philo and
Greek traditions, I disagree that this means Origen does not include knowledge of
the future and of the human heart in his definition of prophecy. Indeed, in Chapter
4, I demonstrate exactly how these two subjects are linked in Origen’s thought
11⁸ cf. 2764 in Smyth (1920), p. 630.

directly under the purview of prophecy. Additionally, Hällström’s definition does

not capture the centrality of Christ to Origen’s definition of prophecy, and its
similarity to the definition in the Gospel of John—a feature I argue for at length in
Chapter 8.
Robert Hauck also examines Origen’s notion of prophecy in his book The More
Divine Proof. In this work, Hauck examines the presentation of prophecy and
inspiration in the arguments made by Origen (and implicitly by Celsus) in Against
Celsus.11⁹ His thesis, in one sentence, is the following:
The question of prophetic knowledge is central to what holds pagan and Christian
apart, and indeed, is an important facet of late antique religious thought.12⁰
Since Hauck is interested in the rhetorical framing of prophecy as part of a wider

polemical clash between Celsus and Origen, he must establish the background
for both men’s views; he therefore carries out a survey of Greek philosophical
doctrines about prophecy, and also of early Christian understandings of the same
topic. Hauck’s view, in short, is that there is no clearly identifiable feature of
Greco-Roman prophecy that is not also found in Christian prophecy, and vice
versa. For example, while Hällström states that the presence of prophetic ecstasy is
the dividing line between pagan and Judaeo-Christian prophecy,121 Hauck would
(correctly) disagree, since prophetic ecstasy can be found in both but is uniform
in neither. Instead, Hauck argues that to understand why certain categories of
pagan divination were rejected by Christians one must understand both what
made prophecy legitimate in Christian eyes, and why pagans rejected Christian
prophecy. Furthermore, he argues that, since prophetic ecstasy plays an important
role in polemic in both pagan and Christian theories of prophecy, it is not in itself
sufficient for claims of legitimacy or illegitimacy, which is, once again, in my view
completely correct.
To make his case, Hauck takes account of a diverse range of authors: Plato,
Plutarch, Cicero, but also Philo, Philostratus, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Tatian,
Tertullian, and Hermas. Central to his analysis of the question of inspiration
in Against Celsus is the problem of how human beings can distinguish between
inspiration by God and inspiration by demons. Hauck argues that while some
authors may claim the presence of prophetic ecstasy as the sign of demonic
inspiration, others use other criteria: this becomes clear in the case of Apollonius
11⁹ There have been a number of other examinations of prophecy in Against Celsus. They include:
Sena (2007); Méhat (1987); Gasparro (1995).
12⁰ Hauck (1989), p. 3.
121 Thus Hällström: ‘ecstasy [is] a dividing line between Christianity and paganism’. (Hällström
[1985], p. 15). For further discussion of this feature see pp. 102–104 on prophetic ecstasy in Platonic
philosophy, and Chapter 6 for the lines of demarcation that Origen himself draws between pagan and
Judaeo-Christian prophecy.
of Tyana, a self-proclaimed prophet and sage whose critics did not focus on
questions of ecstasy, but of magic and charlatanry.122 As Hauck shows, pagan and
Christian critics alike formulated arguments about the morality of those persons
claimed as prophets, often using the criterion of immorality as a way of deriding a
prophet’s claim to legitimacy and authority. While this line of argument is, I think,
a profitable and sound approach to the rhetorical context, the point can at times
become reductive. This is especially the case when dealing with a lot of polemical
and apologetic works, as Hauck does in his later chapters. He does not, for example,
consider issues like the question of fate or free will, prophecy’s interaction with
time, or the relationship between prophecy and scripture.
Hauck devotes a chapter to Origen’s doctrine on the question of prophecy. He
concludes in this chapter that the usual scholarly spectrum of rationalism/mysti-
cism does not apply very well to Origen’s thought about inspiration and prophecy;
instead, Hauck frames the question, as he has in previous chapters, as one of
demonology:
This conflict addresses a pressing spiritual issue of its world: which side has the
spiritual effectiveness sufficient to break the encompassing power of the daemons
and to make available knowledge of God?123
I think that for a certain strand of Origen’s understanding of prophecy—which

I address in Chapter 6—this is completely correct. However, Hauck’s primarily
demonological approach to Origen’s view of prophecy is limited by his exclusive
focus on Against Celsus. While it works extremely well for that text, it misses a
number of other facets foregrounded in other works.
The most acute examination of prophecy in Origen’s thought so far has been
a long article by Ilaria Ramelli, which draws not only from Against Celsus as
many scholars do but from across Origen’s corpus.12⁴ Ramelli argues that for
Origen, prophecy is ‘a gift shared by men and women alike’ as well as being a
kind of proof.12⁵ She discusses the relationship between prophecy and allegory and
makes the case that prophecy contains the promise of the universal restoration
(ἀποκατάστασις).12⁶ A number of the points Ramelli makes have resonances for
this study—in particular her work on the eschatological components of prophecy,
to which I return in Chapter 8. However, her focus is not primarily on prophecy’s
structure, and she does not examine the aspects of prophecy related to free will
and foreknowledge in any detail; inevitably a shorter study cannot encompass as
much as a monograph-length work can. In this book, I also use the whole range of
Origen’s corpus to examine comprehensively Origen’s concept of prophecy.
122 I return to Apollonius in detail in Chapter 5. 123 Hauck (1989), p. 135.

12⁴ Ramelli (2017b) 12⁵ Ramelli (2017b), p. 18.
12⁶ I return to this concept in Chapter 8.
2
Exegesis
You must ascertain of what thing in the New Testament each sign
(σημεῖον) in the Old Testament is a type (τύπος). And that which is
called a sign in the new scripture is indicative of something either in
the future age, or in later generations after the sign has happened.
—Commentary on Matthew 12.3
Origen was condemned as a heretic in the Second Council of Constantinople

of 553. The case against him, brought under the Emperor Justinian, included
various anathemata said to be drawn from Origen’s beliefs, including his supposed
doctrine of the pre-existence of human souls and his belief in potential universal
salvation.1 Some of the anathemata are drawn directly from Origen’s work. Others,
however, were formulated by later thinkers—either later followers of Origen who
developed his thought in new directions, or polemicists who misrepresented him
in their criticisms.
The condemnation, unusually long after Origen’s death, was the result of two
so-called Origenist controversies. Both of these controversies comprised sets of
complex doctrinal struggles that encompassed many voices and positions. Despite
the focus in the Council’s anathemata on specific theological doctrines, central to
the controversies themselves was the more general question of correct scriptural
exegesis: in particular, the proper role (if any) of allegory in an exegete’s reading
of the Bible. Both for his detractors and his defenders, Origen’s name came to
stand as a synonym for vibrant allegorizing; many of his detractors argued that
he afforded insufficient respect to the literal meaning of scripture. Neither ‘literal’,
nor ‘allegorical’, of course, has a straightforward definition. In both controversies,
the conflicts frequently played out through personal enmities, accusations, and
discussions of matters wholly unrelated to exegesis and Origen.2 Because of this,
it has become remarkably difficult to discern Origen’s own position outside the
lens of these various later—sometimes quite polarized—positions. It is around
this problem that much twentieth- and twenty-first century scholarship on Origen
1 For the full documents cf. price (2009). On the difficulties of the phrase ‘pre-existence of souls’,
which does not occur in any Greek equivalent in Origen’s work, see Behr (2017), p. lxxx.
2 For analysis of the controversy and its rhetorical construction, see Clark (1992). I will return to the
controversy in more detail at pp. 31–32.
exegesis 27
has circled. This chapter will engage with this problem, and with the relationship
between exegesis and prophecy in Origen’s thought.
An enormous amount has been written about Origen’s approach to reading
scripture.3 All scholars agree that Origen has an exegetical hermeneutic—that
is, a stated set of principles for reading—which promotes reading scripture in a
straightforward or literal way, and also in an allegorical or metaphorical way. In
fact, Origen himself sets out in On First Principles not just two but three senses
in this hermeneutic. In addition to the literal (‘somatic’) reading, he distinguishes
between two different types of allegorical reading, one which focuses on moral
concerns (‘psychic’) and one which focuses on mystical concerns (‘pneumatic’).
Most scholars therefore believe that this tripartite hermeneutic structured most
of Origen’s writing and thinking about scripture; some have expressed scepticism
about whether he actually employs it in practice.⁴
Scholarship so far has focused entirely on the application of this tripartite
hermeneutic to scripture.⁵ However, in this chapter I will show that Origen means
the hermeneutic to be applicable to other subjects as well—in particular, for the
‘reading’ of philosophical constructs or branches of knowledge. The evidence for
this is to be found in the Commentary on Song of Songs where Origen applies
the tripartite hermeneutic to traditional Greek intellectual training, arguing that
different branches and methods of knowledge correspond to different readings
or layers in the hermeneutic. I think Origen’s use of the hermeneutic in this way
shows that he may well have understood other concepts and phenomena using the
same taxonomy. I propose in the second half of this chapter that prophecy was
one such concept. The tripartite hermeneutic applies to prophecy in two ways.
First, and most straightforwardly, it applies to prophecy as scripture. Origen takes
scriptural verses that are explicitly prophecies as particularly conducive to analysis
under the tripartite hermeneutic. Additionally, Origen appears to consider each
and every verse of scripture to be, in at least one of its three readings, a prophecy.
We can find excellent examples of this type of exegesis both in Origen’s own
work and in the Prophetic Extracts of his successor Eusebius. The second mode
3 In the first half of the twentieth century, work on the subject was largely polemic in nature,
condemning Origen’s exegesis as inappropriately allegorical and thus subjective when judged against
the standards of the historical-critical method. cf. De Faye (1926), pp. 37–52; Hanson (1959), 246ff.
However, other scholars focus instead on the question of the consistency of Origen’s exegetical
method—that is to say, not whether Origen was right, according to some historical-critical standard,
but whether his theory and his own exegetical practice were consistent with one another. cf. de Lubac
(1950); Daniélou (1973); Crouzel (1989). For later work on the topic, see Torjesen (1986) and Greer
(1996) pp. 107–208.
⁴ cf. e.g. Torjesen (1985).
⁵ While the majority of work on this topic has focused on trying to explain the hermeneutic, a
number of more interesting directions have been explored. The work of Peter W. Martens e.g. examines
Origen’s exegetical hermeneutic through a biographical lens of his life as an exegete and teacher. cf.
Martens (2012). Morwenna Ludlow’s work examines Origen’s approach to exegesis and reading in
terms of the history of reading and textuality from antiquity to postmodern literary theory. cf. Ludlow
(2011). For more on Origen’s view of time, see Chapter 8, p. 187ff.
of application is more general and has wider implications. As with the Greek
intellectual arts, Origen’s tripartite hermeneutic applies to prophecy, not just as the
sum of all prophecies, but also as a phenomenon of related methods and branches
of knowledge.
2.1 Hermeneutics and Exegesis
The study of figurative reading bristles with terminology. A considerable

amount of work on Origen’s reading of scripture—and on ancient exegesis more
generally—has focused on the task of trying to distinguish between two specific
terms: ‘allegory’ and ‘typology’.⁶ Jean Daniélou first set forward a definition of the
two terms purportedly with reference to Origen in the 1940s. His definition of
typology was as follows:
The object of typology is the research of the correspondences between the events, the
institutions, and the persons of the Old Testament and those of the New Testament,
which is inaugurated by the coming of Christ and will be consummated by his
parousia [second coming].⁷
By contrast, he argued that allegory was a more general term, which derived
from pagan and Jewish traditions of non-literal readings. And in fact, the term
ἀλληγορία did originate in the Greek philological vocabulary to describe the
practices of the grammarians. Allegorizing was understood as a tool in the gram-
marian’s toolbox for the explication of passages, alongside detail-focused technical
practices such as textual criticism (διορθωτικόν), investigation of the meaning of
words (γλωσσηματικόν), and metrical analysis (μετρικόν), but also alongside other
forms of literary and formal criticism, including historical analysis (ἱστορικόν)
and aesthetic and moral evaluation (κρίσις ποιημάτων).⁸ Allegory in the Greek
tradition was always part of a wider set of interpretive tools and layers of reading
for making sense of a text; in its technical sense allegory was a category of the
Hellenistic grammarians.
Typology is, on the other hand, an easier term to define. In Romans 5:14, Paul
refers to Adam as a ‘type’ (τύπος) of the one who was to come, Christ. Many
early Christians also took Paul’s words in Colossians 2:16–17 of the ‘shadow of
⁶ A compact and very sensible article by Peter Martens traces the history of this debate in the
scholarship on Origen and examines some of the evidence from Origen’s own writings. See Martens
(2008).
⁷ Daniélou (1951), p. 199. See also Daniélou (1946).
⁸ Martens (2012), p. 42. For studies of the methods of the grammarians, see Kaster (1988) and
Morgan (1998).
exegesis 29
things to come’ (σκιὰ τῶν μελλόντων)⁹ as a programmatic statement, instructing

them how to read. In addition, the term ‘antitype’, sometimes used to denote the
thing signified by the type, is also attested in the New Testament (1 Peter 3:21) in
reference to baptism.1⁰ Thus among early Christian writers it became common to
read passages of the Old Testament or Jewish cultural practices or paraphernalia as
‘types’ for their Christian ‘antitypes’. Typological reading usually, but not always,
focuses around the identification of an Old Testament or Jewish ‘type’ who or
which symbolically represents Christ.11
After Daniélou, other scholars drew different distinctions between allegory
and typology. RPC Hanson made the case in the 1950s that typology had a
temporal component, linking present events with prophecies made in the past
through fulfilment. Like Daniélou he saw allegory as a more general term, but,
in his view, general in terms of its time referent: the events in an allegory do not
have to have any particular relationship in time. Scholars have tended to follow
down one of these two routes, distinguishing the two either by their temporal
referent or by their origin.12 In fact, while most scholars consider typology to
be distinct from allegory and superior to it, there is no real distinction drawn in
Origen’s use of terminology: he uses the terms ἀλληγορία and τύπος at roughly
the same frequency.13 The two words are not entirely interchangeable—τύπος
refers specifically to the signifier, whereas ἀλληγορία refers to the whole parallel—
they do not demonstrate any marked conceptual distinction between kinds of
metaphorical reading.
Regardless of terminology, the systematic figurative reading of texts for philo-
sophical reasons has an important history of its own in the Classical context. In
particular, many ancient writers practised allegorical reading of Homer. Theagenes
of Rhegium, a writer of the 6th century bc, was often credited by ancient writers
with the invention of the practice,1⁴ although scholars have argued that it could
be even older.1⁵ Other early allegorists include Pherecydes of Samos, and, in the
scientific tradition, Anaxagoras, Metrodorus, and Democritus. Plato refers to the
practice in the Republic, when he speaks of those who read Homer ‘allegorically’ (ἐν
ὑπονοίας).1⁶ In particular, among Platonist and Pythagorean thinkers, the journey
⁹ SBLGNT. 1⁰ The type in question is the survival of Noah’s family in the ark pericope.
11 Origen uses the term ‘type’ reasonably frequently. e.g. Homilies on Luke fragment 121: ‘One should
not conceal the burning, intelligible lamp of the soul, but place it on a lampstand. Moses “placed” a type
of this lampstand “in the tent of witness”. ’
12 cf. Frances Young, on the Antiochene origins of typology and Alexandrian origins of allegory,
Young (1997). See also Walter Bienert, who argues that the distinction works along both axes, Bienert
(1972). For some sensible reflections on the rhetorical seeds of this distinction in patristic texts,
particularly in relation to Origen, see Mitchell (2005).
13 ἀλληγορία appears more than forty times in Origen’s corpus with a handful of extra uses of its
cognate verb; τύπος appears around sixty times.
1⁴ See Theagenes 8 fragment 2 (Diels-Kranz).
1⁵ See Pépin (1958), Détienne (1962), Lamberton (1986), Buffière (1956). 1⁶ Republic 378D.
of Odysseus was sometimes read as a moral allegory for the progress of the soul.1⁷
Origen himself was aware of the tradition of Pythagorean allegorical exegesis of
Homer.1⁸
The Stoic school also had a huge influence on Origen and on early Christian
practices of allegorical exegesis more generally. We know that one of the authors
Origen read in some detail was Lucius Annaeus Cornutus:
[Origen] was always consorting with Plato, and was conversant with the writings
of Numenius, Cronius, Apollophanes, Longinus, Moderatus, Nicomachus, and the
distinguished men among the Pythagoreans; and he made use of the books of
Chaeremon the Stoic and Cornutus, from which he learnt the allegorical mode of
the Greek mysteries and applied this to Jewish writings.1⁹
Cornutus was a first century Stoic figure whose theoretical work on the allegorical
interpretation of Greek mythology was highly influential. He was part of an
established Stoic allegorical tradition. As George Boys-Stones has shown, this
tradition was quite specifically motivated by the belief that the very earliest human
beings had a highly advanced philosophy, traces of which remained—whether
accidentally or through deliberate concealment—in traditional mythology. They
claimed that these traces could be found in mythological accounts, both of the
Greeks and other cultures of great antiquity such as the Egyptians and the Jews.2⁰
Jewish and Christian exegetes inherited some of these beliefs about the rev-
elatory potential of allegory. Although they all operated under the same basic
assumption that scripture was an epistemic authority,21 they nonetheless found
a broad range of ways to allegorize. Christians, in particular, instructed in these
approaches to allegory as part of their participation in traditional intellectual
curricula, applied them to examination of scripture from a very early period.22
Due to the influence of Philo and the grammarians, this fondness for the use
of allegorical readings was particularly associated with Alexandria in the first
centuries of Christian thought. Following his Alexandrian predecessors Philo
and Clement, Origen advised a particularly ambitious educational syllabus for
1⁷ cf. e.g. Porphyry On the Cave of the Nymphs which is one of the most elaborate allegorical readings
of Odyssey 13. For its wider context, see Edwards (1996).
1⁸ cf. Against Celsus 7.7. 1⁹ Eusebius Church History 6.19.8.
2⁰ Whether the Jews were included in this designation is a complicated matter. Boys-Stones makes
the case that Chaeremon, another Stoic philosopher on Origen’s reading list, while often quite
sympathetic to the Jews, took the view that the Jews were Egyptian in origin. This view, which seems
to be quite common, encompasses both a version that claims that Jews were ethnically Egyptian, and
another version that, while they might have been ethnically distinct, theologically their beliefs were a
derivative—and thus corrupt—version of Egyptian religion. This view is shared by Apion, the target of
Josephus’s apologetic work Against Apion. For the full argument, see Boys-Stones (2001).
21 For more on this, see Chapters 7 and 8.
22 The texts of the Apostolic Fathers (particularly the Shepherd of Hermas) are rich in allegorical
understandings. See e.g. Tagliabue (2017).
exegesis 31
any would-be exegete: knowledge of geometry, music, rhetoric, astronomy, and

philosophy would all be desirable, alongside an extensive training in grammar
and philology—and in particular, familiarity with the process of constructing
allegorical readings.23 Yet, despite the widespread prevalence of traditional Greek
practices of allegorical reading among Christian exegetes, many felt that alle-
gory should be reserved as an occasional tool for the resolution of particularly
intractable passages. Others, like Origen, applied allegory more freely, seeing it as
a type of reading that could and should be used frequently alongside other types
of reading. In the Origenist crises, these methodological distinctions came to the
forefront, with the sphere of disagreement over whether allegory should be seen
as a routine part of the exegete’s practice, or a last-resort option. In the course of
these discussions, some Origenists argued that allegorical readings were superior
to literal readings, and were a sphere for the exercise of ‘freewheeling’ creativity by
the exegete.2⁴
The first Origenist controversy broke out in monastic Egypt in the 390s, among
two neighbouring communities of monks: the Nitrians and the Scetans. The
Nitrians, fond of allegory, found themselves in conflict with the Scetans, who
preferred a more literal approach to scripture.2⁵ Epiphanius, at the time the
overseer of the Palestinian monasteries, waded into the conflict as a fierce oppo-
nent of the Nitrians and their ‘Origenist’ allegorizing; his enemy John, bishop of
Jerusalem, countered with a diatribe against the errors of an overly literalistic
approach to exegesis. Other figures in the debate include Origen’s translators,
Jerome and Rufinus. Formerly friends, the two men became enemies when Jerome
renounced his support of Origen under pressure from anti-Origenist monks.
Another former Origenist, Theophilus of Alexandria, ended up being a driving
force in the condemnation of Origen’s works at the Council of Alexandria in
400. A second Origenist controversy erupted in the first decades of the sixth
century, again among monks. This time, the monks of Jerusalem, perhaps under
the influence of the pantheist Stephen Bar-Sudaili, began supporting Origenist
allegorizing. They were supported by the bishops of Ancyra and Caesarea, Askidas
and Domitian. Finally, the controversy reached the emperor Justinian, who drafted
a tract against Origen which led to his anathematization. Although the politics of
Justinian’s court in Constantinople in the 550s cannot be ignored as a major driver
of this move,2⁶ the questions that the controversies had opened about exegesis and
allegory cast their shadow over the Church for many centuries to come.
Throughout the Origenist controversies, participants on both sides exhibit anx-
iety about the proper mix of allegorical and literalistic interpretation of scripture,
23 For more on this curriculum, see Martens (2012), pp. 25–40. 2⁴ de Lubac (1998), p. 16.
2⁵ For a summary of the debates, see Clark (1992).
2⁶ For discussion of Justinian’s relationship to the Church, particularly to the Bishop of Rome, as
context for Origen’s condemnation, see Meyendorff (1968).
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
R569739.
The Brute man. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 6 reels. © 13Oct46; L684.
National Telefilm Associates, Inc. (PWH); 30Jan74; R569739.
R569740.
Gashouse kids. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 7 reels. © 7Oct46; L685.
R569741.
Don Ricardo returns. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 7 reels. © 5Nov46;
L686. National Telefilm Associates, Inc. (PWH); 30Jan74; R569741.
R569742.
Tumbleweed trail. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 6 reels. © 28Oct46;
R569743.
Wild West. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 8 reels. © 1Dec46; L712.
R569744.
Lady chaser. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 6 reels. © 25Nov46; L715.
R569745.
Stars over Texas. By P. R. C. Pictures, Inc. 6 reels. © 18Nov46;
R569926.
Paramount news. No. 42. By Paramount Pictures, Inc. 1 reel. ©
22Jan47; M1645. Major News Library (PWH); 5Feb74; R569926.
R569927.
R569928.
R569929.
1Feb47; M1726. Major News Library (PWH); 5Feb74; R569929.
R570066.
Double danger. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels. (Son of
the guardsman, chap. 11) © 2Jan47; L800. Columbia Pictures
Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74; R570066.
R570067.
The Secret of the treasure. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2
reels. (Son of the guardsman, chap. 12) © 9Jan47; L811. Columbia
Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74; R570067.
R570068.
Into the depths. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels. (Son of
the guardsman, chap. 13) © 16Jan47; L824. Columbia Pictures
R570069.
The Lost heritage. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels. (Son
of the guardsman, chap. 14) © 23Jan47; L834. Columbia Pictures
R570070.
South of the Chisholm Trail. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 6
reels. © 30Jan47; L837. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH);
7Feb74; R570070.
R570071.
Free men triumph. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels.
(Son of the guardsman, chap. 15) © 30Jan47; L850. Columbia
Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74; R570071.
R570072.
The Lone wolf in Mexico. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 7
reels. © 16Jan47; L851. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH);
7Feb74; R570072.
R570073.
Half wits holiday. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels. ©
9Jan47; L918. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74;
R570073.
R570074.
Loco Lobo. By Screen Gems, Inc. 1 reel. © 9Jan47; L966.
Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74; R570074.
R570075.
Fowl brawl. By Screen Gems, Inc. 1 reel. © 9Jan47; L991.
Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 7Feb74; R570075.
R570076.
Meet Mister Mischief. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels.
© 23Jan47; L994. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH);
7Feb74; R570076.
R570077.
Community sing. Ser. 11, no. 5. By Columbia Pictures Corporation.
1 reel. © 23Jan47; M1877. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc.
(PWH); 7Feb74; R570077.
R570078.
Thrills of music. Ser. 1, no. 5. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 1
reel. © 23Jan47; M1918. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH);
7Feb74; R570078.
R570079.
Polo. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 1 reel. (The World of
sports) © 30Jan47; M1970. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc.
(PWH); 7Feb74; R570079.
R570080.
Screen snapshots. Ser. 26, no. 5. By Columbia Pictures
Corporation. 1 reel. © 23Jan47; M1974. Columbia Pictures
R570212.
Arnelo affair. By Loew’s, Inc. 9 reels. © 30Jan47; L816. Metro
Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 4Feb74; R570212.
R570213.
What’s your I. Q.? By Loew’s, Inc. 1 reel. (Early sports quiz, no. 13)
© 29Jan47; M1637. Metro Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 4Feb74;
R570213.
R570310.
Without reservations. 12 reels. © 3Jun46; L433. Jesse L. Lasky
Productions, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570310.
R570311.
Vacation in Reno. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 7 reels. © 16Oct46;
L691. RKO General, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570311.
R570312.
Child of divorce. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 7 reels. © 30Oct46;
R570313.
The Locket. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 10 reels. © 31Dec46;
R570314.
Sinbad the Sailor. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 12 reels. ©
31Dec46; L847. RKO General, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570314.
R570315.
Nocturne. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 10 reels. © 2Jan47; L866.
RKO General, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570315.
R570316.
San Quentin. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 7 reels. © 4Dec46;
R570317.
The Falcon’s adventure. By RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. 6 reels. ©
2Jan47; L891. RKO General, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570317.
R570389.
Universal newsreel. Vol. 19, no. 568. By Universal Pictures
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 2Jan47; M1524. Universal Pictures (PWH);
7Feb74; R570389.
R570390.
Universal newsreel. Vol. 20, no. 3. By Universal Pictures Company,
Inc. 1 reel. © 14Jan47; M1613. Universal Pictures (PWH); 7Feb74;
R570390.
R570391.
R570391.
R570392.
R570392.
R570393.
R570393.
R570394.
R570394.
R570395.
R570395.
R570396.
R570396.
R570397.
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 30Jan47; M1799. Universal Pictures (PWH);
7Feb74; R570397.
R570398.
Swell guy. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 9 reels. ©
18Dec46; L740. Universal Pictures (PWH); 10Jan74; R570398.
R570399.
Melody maestro. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 2 reels. ©
18Dec46; L741. Universal Pictures (PWH); 10Jan74; R570399.
R570400.
Tex Beneke and the Glenn Miller Orchestra. By Universal Pictures
Company, Inc. 2 reels. © 18Dec46; L756. Universal Pictures (PWH);
10Jan74; R570400.
R570401.
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 3Dec46; M1450. Universal Pictures (PWH);
10Jan74; R570401.
R570402.
10Jan74; R570402.
R570403.
Jungle gangster. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel. ©
9Dec46; M1485. Universal Pictures (PWH); 10Jan74; R570403.
R570404.
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 10Dec46; M1488. Universal Pictures
(PWH); 10Jan74; R570404.
R570405.
10Jan74; R570405.
R570406.
10Jan74; R570406.
R570407.
10Jan74; R570407.
R570408.
10Jan74; R570408.
R570409.
10Jan74; R570409.
R570410.
10Jan74; R570410.
R570411.
The Singing barbers. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel.
© 9Dec46; M1612. Universal Pictures (PWH); 10Jan74; R570411.
R570412.
Storm warning. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel. ©
31Dec46; M2325. Universal Pictures (PWH); 10Jan74; R570412.
R570415.
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 29Oct46; M1331. Universal Pictures (PWH);
17Jan74; R570415.
R570416.
So goes my love. 10 reels. © 21Mar46; L456. Skirball Manning
Productions, Inc. (PWH); 11Feb74; R570416.
R570429.
News of the day. Vol. 18, issue no. 233. By Hearst Metrotone News,
Inc. 1 reel. © 1Jan47; M1597. Hearst Metrotone News, a division of
The Hearst Corporation (PWH); 11Feb74; R570429.
R570430.
R570431.
R570432.
R570433.
R570434.
News of the day. Vol. 18, issue no. 238. By Hearst Metrotone
News, Inc. 1 reel. © 17Jan47; M1660. Hearst Metrotone News, a
division of The Hearst Corporation (PWH); 11Feb74; R570434.
R570435.
R570436.
R570437.
R570438.
R570569.
Night in paradise. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 10 reels. ©
11Apr46; L288. Leo A. Gutman, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74; R570569.
R570570.
R570571.
R570573.
R570574.
Bedelia. By Eagle Lion Films, Inc. 85 min. © 15Feb47; L829.
Raymond Rohauer (PWH); 20Feb74; R570574.
R570576.
Paramount news. No. 49. By Paramount Pictures. Inc. 1 reel. ©
R570577.
Paramount news. No. 50. By Paramount Pictures. Inc. 1 reel. ©
R570603.
Cat fishin’. By Loew’s, Inc. 1 reel. © 12Feb47; L831. Metro
Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74; R570603.
R570604.
It happened in Brooklyn. By Loew’s, Inc. 11 reels. © 12Feb47;
L848. Metro Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74; R570604.
R570608.
Mighty Mouse in My old Kentucky home. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1
reel. © 29Mar46; L439. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74;
R570608.
R570609.
Mighty Mouse in The Wicked wolf. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
8Mar46; L532. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74;
R570609.
R570610.
Gandy Goose in It’s all in the stars. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
12Apr46; L634. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 15Feb74;
R570610.
R570686.
Clown of the jungle. 1 reel. © 31Dec46; L1131. Walt Disney
Productions (PWH); 4Feb74; R570686.
R571260.
Wanted for murder. 10 reels. © 1Nov46; L727. Twentieth Century
Fox Film Corporation (PWH); 10Jan74; R571260.
R571439.
Undercover Maisie. By Loew’s, Inc. 9 reels. © 20Feb47; L863.
Metro Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 25Feb74; R571439.
R571689.
The Man I love. By Warner Brothers Pictures, Inc. 10 reels. ©
11Jan47; L776. United Artists Television, Inc. (PWH); 27Feb74;
R571689.
R571690.
Humoresque. By Warner Brothers Pictures, Inc. 10 reels. ©
25Jan47; L793. United Artists Television, Inc. (PWH); 27Feb74;
R571690.
R571691.
The Beast with five fingers. By Warner Brothers Pictures, Inc. 10
reels. © 8Feb47; L819. United Artists Television, Inc. (PWH);
27Feb74; R571691.
R571692.
Nora Prentiss. By Warner Brothers Pictures, Inc. 11 reels. ©
22Feb47; L845. United Artists Television, Inc. (PWH); 27Feb74;
R571692.
R571693.
One meat brawl. By The Vitaphone Corporation. 1 reel. © 9Jan47;
M1548. United Artists Television, Inc. (PWH); 27Feb74; R571693.
R571694.
Let’s go swimming. By Vitaphone Corporation. 1 reel. © 25Jan47;
R571695.
Melody of youth. By Vitaphone Corporation. 1 reel. © 27Jan47;
R571696.
Circus horse. By Vitaphone Corporation. 1 reel. © 21Jan47;
R572004.
13 Rue Madeleine. 10 reels. © 15Jan47; L942. Twentieth Century
Fox Film Corporation (PWH); 1Mar74; R572004.
R572005.
Monkey tone news. 1 reel. © 17Jan47; L944. Twentieth Century
Fox Film Corporation (PWH); 1Mar74; R572005.
R572006.
Fantasy of Siam. 1 reel. © 3Jan47; M1642. Twentieth Century Fox
Film Corporation (PWH); 1Mar74; R572006.
R572007.
Michigan Kid. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 8 reels. ©
18Feb47; L877. Universal Pictures (PWH); 1Mar74; R572007.
R572008.
Song of Scheherazade. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 12
reels. © 18Feb47; L878. Universal Pictures (PWH); 1Mar74;
R572008.
R572009.
I’ll be yours. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 93 min. ©
18Feb47; L879. Universal Pictures (PWH); 1Mar74; R572009.
R572010.
Inc. 1 reel. © 4Feb47; M1800. Universal Pictures (PWH); 1Mar74;
R572010.
R572011.
Company, Inc. 1 reel. © 6Feb47; M1801. Universal Pictures (PWH);
1Mar74; R572011.
R572012.
1Mar74; R572012.
R572013.
1Mar74; R572013.
R572014.
1Mar74; R572014.
R572015.
1Mar74; R572015.
R572016.
Pelican pranks. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel. ©
18Feb47; M1884. Universal Pictures (PWH); 1Mar74; R572016.
R572017.
Rhumba holiday. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel. ©
R572018.
Wild West chimp. By Universal Pictures Company, Inc. 1 reel. ©
R572019.
1Mar74; R572019.
R572020.
1Mar74; R572020.
R572096.
Neighbor pests. By Loew’s, Inc. 1 reel. © 26Feb47; L931. Metro
Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 1Mar74; R572096.
R572097.
Calling on Costa Rica. By Loew’s, Inc. 1 reel. © 26Feb47; M1795.
Metro Goldwyn Mayer, Inc. (PWH); 1Mar74; R572097.
B572099.
Gandy Goose in Peace time football. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
19Jul46; L612. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572099.
R572100.
Mighty Mouse in The Jail break. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
20Sep46: L613. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572100.
R572101.
Gandy Goose in The Golden hen. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
24May46; L614. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572101.
R572102.
Mighty Mouse in The Johnstown Flood. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel.
© 28Jun46; L615. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572102.
R572103.
Mighty Mouse in The Trojan horse. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
26Jul46; L616. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572103.
R572104.
The Tortoise wins again. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 30Aug46:
L617. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74; R572104.
R572105.
Mighty Mouse in The Electronic mouse trap. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1
reel. © 6Sep46; L618. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572105.
R572106.
Mighty Mouse in Winning the West. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
16Aug46; L635. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572106.
R572107.
Dinky finds a home. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 7Jun46; L637.
Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74; R572107.
R572108.
Mighty Mouse in Throwing the bull. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
3May46: L752. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572108.
R572109.
The Housing problem. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 25Oct46;
L772. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74; R572109.
R572110.
The Snow man. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 11Oct46; L773.
R572111.
Mighty Mouse in The Crackpot king. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
15Nov46; L814. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572111.
R572112.
Heckle and Jeckle the Talking Magpies in The Uninvited pests. By
Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 29Nov46; L815. Viacom International, Inc.
(PWH); 14Mar74; R572112.
R572113.
Mighty Mouse and the hep cat. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
6Dec46; L884. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572113.
R572114.
Beanstalk Jack. By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. © 20Dec46; L885.
R572115.
Mighty Mouse in Crying “wolf.” By Terrytoons, Inc. 1 reel. ©
10Jan47; L941. Viacom International, Inc. (PWH); 14Mar74;
R572115.
R572286.
26Feb47; M1812. Major News Library (PWH); 5Mar74; R572286.
R572287.
1Mar47; M1823. Major News Library (PWH); 5Mar74; R572287.
R572325.
Mister District Attorney. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 9
reels. © 19Feb47; L835. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH);
15Mar74; R572325.
R572326.
Johnny O’Clock. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 10 reels. ©
20Feb47; L836. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 15Mar74;
R572326.
R572327.
Cigarette girl. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 7 reels. ©
R572327.
R572328.
Dead reckoning. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 11 reels. ©
R572328.
R572329.
Mystery of the cosmic ray. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 3
reels. (Jack Armstrong, chap. 1) © 6Feb47; L854. Columbia Pictures
Industries, Inc. (PWH); 15Mar74; R572329.
R572330.
Blind spot. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 7 reels. © 6Feb47;
L855. Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. (PWH); 15Mar74; R572330.
R572331.
The Far world. By Columbia Pictures Corporation. 2 reels. (Jack
Armstrong, chap. no. 2) © 13Feb47; L861. Columbia Pictures

Origen and Prophecy Fate Authority Allegory and The Structure of Scripture Claire Hall Download PDF Chapter

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Origen and Prophecy Fate Authority Allegory and The Structure of Scripture Claire Hall Download PDF Chapter

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Origen and Prophecy: Fate, Authority,

Allegory, and the Structure of Scripture

⁴ In Origen’s lifetime alone there were twenty-one.

Belongs to the Emperor

In The Order of Things, Michel Foucault argues that knowledge-ordering schemes

1 Foucault (1970). 2 Borges (1952).

prophecy’. Sometimes ‘prophecy’ even refers to a specific physical or textual form:

But if we turn to histories of prophecy in Jewish or in Greco-Roman thought,

⁷ cf. 1694 Smyth (1920), p. 384.

prophesying or foreseeing are προλέγω, προφήμι, προεπίσταμαι⁸ and

⁸ LSJ p. 1488, e.g. Plato, Gorgias 459e; Xenophon, Cyropaedia 4.3.12.

προδήλωσις3⁴ (prognostication), and its related adjective προδηλωτικός.3⁵ Then

praesentio,⁴⁹ praevideo,⁵⁰ praesago.⁵1 Otherwise, verbs of divination include

1.2 Definitions of Prophecy

Johannes Lindblom, writing on prophecy in Ancient Israel, gives the following

Similarly, Martti Nissinen defines prophecy as ‘the transmission of allegedly divine

⁴⁹ OLD p. 1440, e.g. Lucretius On the Nature of Things 4.682.

⁶⁷ Jassen (2008), p. 300. ⁶⁸ Boring (1991), p. 38.

hallucinogens.⁷3 Indeed, when examined closely, several divinatory and prophetic

1.2.1 Greek Philosophical Definitions

⁷3 Aune (1983), p. 86. ⁷⁴ See e.g. Aune (1983), p. 86.

1. Divination is ‘the presentiment and knowledge of future things’.

Middle Platonists generally endorsed divination and prophecy. For example,

⁷⁸ See Gallop (1996). See also Struck (2016), pp. 91–170.

Testament writers make a number of references to the fulfilment of prophecies

The passage comes as part of a wider exhortation to believe accounts of Christ’s

The longest passage of relevance to us is 1 Corinthians 14:1 where Paul focuses

⁹⁰ Romans 12:6. ⁹1 1 Corinthians 12:7–11. ⁹2 1 Corinthians 13:2.

Greek Patristic writers

This formulation is very close to some pagan definitions of divination. Similarly,

of prophecy here is a near-quotation of the definition of a different concept—

Προφητεία ἐστὶ πρόρρησις μελλόντων, ὧν περατουμένων τέλος ἔχει τὸ ῥηθέν. οὐκ

προφῆταί εἰσιν οἱ καλῶς διακονοῦντες τῷ λόγῷ τῆς διδασκαλίας, καὶ προφητεύοντες

docere autem est prophetare.111

In a short book on Origen and prophecy, Gunnar af Hällström emphasizes this

Hällström gives his own definition of a prophet in Origen’s thought as follows:

This definition is similar to a definition found in the Homilies of pseudo-Clement:

Gunnar af Hällström also provides another definition of a prophet in Origen’s

11⁶ Hällström (1985), p. 25. 11⁷ Against Celsus 1.37.

either 1) ‘Jewish/Christian prophets all make general predictions which either

In answering in this way, Origen would be refuting both of these accusations.

11⁸ cf. 2764 in Smyth (1920), p. 630.

directly under the purview of prophecy. Additionally, Hällström’s definition does

Since Hauck is interested in the rhetorical framing of prophecy as part of a wider

I think that for a certain strand of Origen’s understanding of prophecy—which

122 I return to Apollonius in detail in Chapter 5. 123 Hauck (1989), p. 135.

Origen was condemned as a heretic in the Second Council of Constantinople

2.1 Hermeneutics and Exegesis

The study of figurative reading bristles with terminology. A considerable

things to come’ (σκιὰ τῶν μελλόντων)⁹ as a programmatic statement, instructing

any would-be exegete: knowledge of geometry, music, rhetoric, astronomy, and

You might also like