Love and Equity: The Social Doctrine of Origen of Alexandria

Love as Justice Toward Oneself

First, an exaggerated dualism could easily lead to a repudiation of the body, to the point of denying it even its most basic needs. But owing to Origen’s conviction that man is composed of body and soul, both being created by God, he insists that everything necessary for the body’s sustenance is properly due the body, as part of the debt of love mentioned above. He contrasts Christian ascetics with those of the Pythagoreans, admitting that both abstain from eating certain foods, but from very different motivations. The Pythagoreans, he says, do so to liberate the soul from the body, ‘on account of the myth about the soul’s reincarnation,’ to the point that they even desire the death of their loved ones, whereas Christians merely seek to ‘bruise the body and keep it into subjection.’ ²¹ Likewise, in an allegorical exegesis of Matthew 22, Origen describes this provision of bodily sustenance as part of ‘paying tribute to Caesar,’ and he likens Gnostic dualists to the Pharisees, who are unwilling to give Caesar his due. ²² So long as the present material dispensation continues, the virtue of justice will consider the necessary debt toward oneself as including at least a modicum of material goods, for the sustenance of one’s own body. ²³

Love as Justice Toward Others: Avarice

Origen spends far more time, however, criticizing the disordered love of material goods, which for him is a symptom of excessive love of oneself, seeking to overindulge one’s bodily appetites at the expense of the honor due to God and others. For Origen, the true blessings God wishes to give are not corporeal, but spiritual. ²⁴ Though it may be tempting to discard this as only so much Platonizing, for Origen it always has a Christological and biblical basis: ‘How can the spirit that has considered the immovable kingdom of Christ, do otherwise than contemn as utterly worthless every earthly kingdom?’ ²⁵ What is more, true riches are found not in some disembodied ‘spiritual realm,’ but rather in a life of virtue and holiness, like the man who is ‘rich … in all wisdom and every good work, lend[ing] out of his wealth and utterance and wisdom and knowledge to many nations.’ ²⁶ For Origen, true riches do not consist in material goods at all, but in virtue. ²⁷

As noted above, Origen frequently identifies the tendency to exalt corporeal riches with the Jewish dispensation, inasmuch as he finds such a tendency dominating the literal sense of the Old Testament, with all of its promises of land, wealth, and temporal success. Origen, in his typical fashion, insists on the allegorization of these texts as a condition for their appropriation by Christians. ²⁸ He complains that ‘some men, who reject the labor of thinking and seek after the outward and literal meaning of the law, or rather give way to their own desires and lusts, disciples of the mere letter, consider that the promises of the future are to be looked for in the form of pleasure and bodily luxury … understand[ing] the divine scriptures in a Judaistic sense.’ ²⁹ Of the Sadducees, he complains that ‘they do not understand that it is spiritual blessings that have been prophesied,’ ³⁰ and Origen criticizes Celsus for making the same mistake: ‘If, then, the letter of the law promises wealth to the righteous, Celsus may follow the letter that kills and think that the promise is speaking of blind wealth. But we regard it as the riches that have keen sight, according as a person is rich in all utterance and all knowledge ….’ ³¹ Similarly, the patriarchs’ relentless pursuit of property is said to illustrate the Christians’ pursuit of Gentile converts, ³² and the houses owned by the Levitical priests are said to signify the ‘eternal house in heaven not made by hand,’ of which St. Paul speaks. ³³ But Origen’s dismissal of temporal blessings does not stop at his exegesis of the Old Testament: he is equally concerned to rule out a ‘Jewish’ interpretation of the New Testament. He famously spiritualizes the ‘daily bread’ of the Lord’s Prayer, ³⁴ and generally rules out any prayerful petition for temporal gifts: ‘Everyone, then, that asks God for the things of the earth and what is small disobeys Him who bids us ask from God for the things of heaven and what is great, and who does not grant favours that are of the earth and small.’ ³⁵

Many of the Church Fathers, such as Clement of Alexandria, have been accused of soft-pedaling the Christian teaching on poverty by over-emphasizing the possibility of ‘the detachment of the owner,’ such that a Christian could be wealthy, so long as he remained ‘detached’ from his riches. ³⁶ Such an attitude could lay the groundwork for a kind of ‘bourgeoise Christianity’—‘a more secure Christianity, one which had no risk of revolutionary or radical change of the social structure for its rich members.’ ³⁷ Origen does, indeed, often target one’s moral attachment to wealth—speaking, for example, of ‘the man who is distracted by wealth,’ ³⁸ or of the tendency of wealth to make one ‘too confident … full of pride.’ ³⁹ Yet, this is not something Origen emphasizes, and Origen’s critique is typically of the mere possession of excessive wealth or property: he typically tolerates the possession of extraneous wealth only on the assumption that it is routinely and habitually dispensed to others. That is to say, for Origen, a detachment from one’s riches was indicated by one’s willingness to part with them if others have need of them. ⁴⁰ Indeed, contemporary scholars have generally found Origen’s position much more radical than that of both his predecessors and successors. ⁴¹ Distributive justice, inasmuch as it is well-ordered charity, rules out any avaricious hoarding of material goods.

Thus, in his moral and pastoral admonitions Origen does not hesitate to condemn greed and avarice—the seeking, acquiring or retaining of material goods beyond what one requires for one’s self-subsistence. His tirades against avarice are constant and uncompromising, and tend to follow the following themes: avarice is a form of quasi-Satanic idolatry, it entangles the soul in worldly affairs, it eviscerates the spiritual health of the soul, and its related vices (such as pride) cause needless divisions in society. These points will be explored in turn.

First, to relate to the pivotal point of Origen’s social teaching, avarice reflects a disordered or inequitable state of charity, in which ‘there is something that weighs more [than God] on the scale of love,’ in which case, says Origen, ‘this is God to you.’ ⁴² The excessively wealthy thus prize worldly goods as their supreme goal, disregarding their heavenly homeland, ‘as if it is the age of eternity now.’ ⁴³ Origen identifies this ‘deification’ of wealth with the pseudo-deity ‘Mammon,’ which in turn can represent the very opposite of God, the devil himself, or even Judas the betrayer of Christ. ⁴⁴ As for those, says Origen, ‘burning with desire for money and love of greed, they call the god of that desire Mammon … Therefore, you see that not only to worship an image but to strive after greed is considered to be worship and servitude to idols.’ ⁴⁵

Origen does not leave this on the level of abstraction, however, but describes in concrete details how an obsession with the cultivation of wealth and property will inevitably ‘distract and drag away the soul from the things which are better and diviner, and bring it down and fix it fast to the deceit of this age, in wealth and glory.’ ⁴⁶ Whereas Jesus’ disciples are called to be ‘not of this world’ (John 17:16), love for possessions makes them ‘occasions of stumbling,’ ⁴⁷ mundane affairs and cares make them ‘a slave to that affair and care to which [they are] bound,’ ⁴⁸ and demonic powers extinguish their baptismal grace by drowning it in secular affairs. ⁴⁹ In practical terms, their preoccupation with business, marketplaces, and lawsuits gives them no time to hear the word of God, ⁵⁰ and thus distracted they are interiorly ‘turned away’ when the Scriptures are proclaimed, ⁵¹ or else when they hear it they do not understand it. ⁵² For this reason, Origen insists that his hearers ‘do not mix mundane things with divine; do not introduce worldly matters into the mysteries of the Church,’ ⁵³ and priests for their part should renounce all earthly possessions entirely, ⁵⁴ for unless they do so they cannot serve the Lord. ⁵⁵

The spiritual soul itself is also weakened—diseased—by such entanglements. Avarice generates ‘worms’ which breed sickness in the soul. ⁵⁶ Not every sin has this sickening effect on the soul, but only those which ‘settle down’ and spread their effect throughout the entire soul. Among these ‘sicknesses of the soul’ Origen includes avarice, along with ambition and pederasty. ⁵⁷ By such a sickness the soul is choked, and cannot be brought to perfection. ⁵⁸ Allegorizing the Gospel account of the stater ⁵⁹ found in the fish’s mouth (Matt. 17:24–26), Origen makes the fish represent the lover of money, who is adrift ‘in the waves of the cares and anxieties of avarice,’ his mouth filled with the stater, ‘which is the symbol of avarice.’ ⁶⁰ Origen astutely observes how, from the desire for money, countless other vices sprout:

It is thus that the fall into avarice at last takes place, men first longing for a little money and then increasing in greed as the vice grows. Afterwards their passion is succeeded by a mental blindness and, with the hostile powers stimulating and urging them on, money is now not merely longed for but even seized by force or acquired through the shedding of human blood. ⁶¹

The influence of ‘hostile powers’ refers to the devil, for the lover of money is a ‘soldier for the king of Egypt,’ who drives him on to agitations, lawsuits, altercations, unchastity, cruelty, and countless other moral crimes. ⁶² Owing to these especial dangers associated with avarice, Origen advises that all lovers of money be immediately expelled from the Church, ⁶³ because such vices pollute the sanctuary and are incompatible with its sacred character. ⁶⁴ What is more, Origen has no doubt that the ultimate end of these preoccupations is ‘the loss of the soul and its eternal reproach,’ ⁶⁵ because ‘the rich man will be punished after his death.’ ⁶⁶

Of the many vices which spring from avarice, Origen seemed to have a special disdain for the social divisiveness caused by the arrogance of the rich vis-à-vis the poor:

There are some who are proud because they are sons of rulers and because they are descended from those who are great by earthly standards. Such ones, proud for purposeless and indifferent matters, do not have a good explanation for what incites them to be proud. They are proud because they have the power to kill men and they are proud because they have acquired what among themselves is labeled such a dignified position that they can cut off the heads of men. The glory of such people is their shame. Others are proud about wealth—not about the true wealth but the wealth below—and others are proud, so to speak, about having a beautiful house or many fields. None of these things is worthy of discussion. ⁶⁷

Such boasting is ‘alien to the boasting of the saints,’ ⁶⁸ who, Origen describes, have ‘renounced every boast here below,’ and boast in Christ alone. ⁶⁹ Thus, Origen does not permit such social divisions to enter the Church, because—like the little children Jesus preferred—Christians are indifferent to differences ‘on the ground of wealth, or raiment, [or] noble birth.’ ⁷⁰ Rather, the Christian ‘does not show partiality to any person – neither a rich one, nor a powerful one, nor a king, nor a priest.’ ⁷¹

Love as Justice Toward Others: Self-Sufficiency

If Origen, then, finds the pursuit or possession of excessive material goods to be morally repugnant, while finding equally repugnant the pursuit of inadequate material goods, then where, exactly, does one draw the line between these evils? Does Origen, in other words, have a positive notion of a middle ground between the vices of avarice and masochistic self-deprivation? A brief comparison with Stoic ethics, which will be developed below, will readily show that Origen did have a very clear concept of such a mean: the possession of a modicum of material goods adequate to meet one’s material needs and render one materially self-sufficient.

The ancient Stoics had developed an ethical system revolving around the well-known ideal of ‘self-sufficiency’ (autarkeia), which, operating under the assumption that virtue alone was sufficient to constitute the good life, frowned on the vain pursuit of excessive material goods, beyond the minimum necessary for a life consonant with human dignity. This was predicated on the assumption that such natural goods (‘necessities of life’) were made readily and easily available in the world around us (water, game, and fruit, for example), whereas extravagant and unnecessary goods (e.g. gold and silver) require strenuous effort to obtain, thus involving the soul in greed or excessive passion. ⁷² Thus, all that the wise man will seek are ‘necessities’ (chrēseōs, or anankaiou); anything beyond this he will freely part with, because they go beyond what is necessary for self-sufficiency. ⁷³

Early Christian writers, even before Origen, had adopted this Stoic ethic, and Clement of Alexandria is perhaps the most emblematic of this adoption: ‘All that we possess is given to us for necessities (chrēseōs), and necessities for self-sufficiency (autarkeias).’ ⁷⁴ Although Origen only infrequently uses the term ‘self-sufficiency,’ he frequently speaks of man’s right and obligation to seek and obtain those material goods which are necessary for the sustenance of bodily life (tēs tou biou chreias), ⁷⁵ which he contrasts with luxurious goods which are ‘useful for nothing.’ ⁷⁶ Elsewhere, in a Latin manuscript, he contrasts the ‘necessities of the flesh’ (necessariis) with its ‘lusts’ (concupiscentiis). ⁷⁷ Similarly, he will describe the specific point where a man, desiring to become ‘as free and rich and noble as he can,’ achieves the point where he is self-sufficient (sibi sufficiat). ⁷⁸ Origen is also remarkably consistent in his insistence that those who lack such a standard of living have a right to receive these goods from others. Such has always been the practice of pagan philosophers, Origen remarks, and it was also the practice of Jesus and His disciples, ⁷⁹ who likewise criticized the Jewish authorities for undermining this standard by the practice of Corban. ⁸⁰ St. Paul received such support from his patrons, ⁸¹ and the early Christian missionaries, ‘if ever they are compelled to do so by want in this respect, they are content with what is necessary and no more [chreia], even if several people are willing to share with them and give them more than they need.’ ⁸² Likewise, the poor within the Church may take money from the Church’s purse ‘for necessary uses’ (pro usibus necessariis), ⁸³ just as the landless clergy receive support from the laity for ‘the necessities of life’ (quae necessaria sunt). ⁸⁴ In sum, Origen lays down as a general rule, ‘may your abundance be for the need of those others … and may their abundance be for your need.’ ⁸⁵ Thus, as should be readily clear, Origen lays down as a consistent rule that, avoiding both inadequate and excessive material goods, every man has both a right and a duty to seek and obtain those goods he requires for a dignified bodily existence. To provide such is strictly a duty of distributive justice.

Origen does not, however, hold that it is always and everywhere illegitimate to possess material goods in excess of the ‘necessities of life’: although the possession of such excess of goods is morally regrettable and preferably avoided, it does not disqualify one for the kingdom of God, providing one uses such goods well. In his comments on the Gospel passage of the rich young ruler (Matt. 19:23), Origen draws attention to the wording, ‘A rich man will barely enter the kingdom of heaven’:

In this case man must notice how strict is the written word of the Savior. Namely, he did not say, a rich man will not enter the kingdom of heaven. That is to say, if he had said so, then he would have excluded the rich from the kingdom of heaven. But he said: A rich man will barely enter in it. He showed with it that it is difficult for the rich, but not impossible to reach salvation. ⁸⁶

What is more, Origen assumes that the rich have as much right to a place in the Church as the poor, and even boasts that in his own day ‘even rich men and persons in positions of honour, and ladies of refinement and high birth, favourably regard adherents of the faith.’ ⁸⁷ In passing comments on the persecution of the Church, he often refers to the plundering of Christians’ property, ⁸⁸ revealing his assumption that Christians were not entirely without such possessions. Although he warns the rich not to become proud of their worldly status, and not to misuse their riches for evil purposes, he does not for that reason deny their right to their riches, providing they are used properly. ⁸⁹ When speaking of worldly status, he notes that just as sight, hearing, and rationality, although they can be used for evil purposes, are nonetheless gifts of God which can be used for good purposes as well, in the same way, ‘though we have these things from God, it nevertheless is in our authority to make use of [these things] for good things or evil things.’ ⁹⁰ He is even able to cite examples of saintly rich men, such as Job: ‘Job was also rich, but he did not pass his life in luxury and lack of compassion,’ thus showing the possibility of ‘just rich men.’ ⁹¹ Thus, in speaking of the wealthy patrons who support the work of the Church, Origen notes that, for all their infamy, ‘our Lord Jesus certainly permits [their] salvation.’ ⁹²

The possession of property, of course, immerses one in the daily cares of this material world, and imposes upon the possessor various duties and ‘debts’ to his fellow citizens that he might not otherwise have. Origen is not without his praise for just and upright societies, laws and governments: ‘Cities with many arts and legislation have come to exist among men. States and positions of authority and leadership among men are what are properly speaking called good dispositions and activities.’ ⁹³ Likewise, following St. Paul, he expects Christians to pay taxes and to offer obedience to all kings and worldly authorities, ⁹⁴ and he praises those who cooperate with magistrates to ‘care or provide for the common good’ and entering ‘the service of the State.’ ⁹⁵ Those who refuse to pay justly levied taxes, for Origen, even though they be Christians, are ‘worthy of death’! ⁹⁶

Such responsibilities and obligations, however, are relevant only to those who possess a considerable amount of possessions, and cannot occur without some level of moral compromise. Commenting on St. Paul’s admonition, ‘Let every soul be subject to the higher authorities’ (Rom. 13:1), Origen points out, ‘It does not seem very commendable to me here that what he commands to be subject to the authorities he calls the soul. For he would never have said, Let every spirit be subject to authority, but “every soul.”’ ⁹⁷ Elsewhere Origen has enunciated his distinction between the soul and spirit, the former being an imperfect, defective and morally diminished form of the latter. ⁹⁸ Thus, the ‘soul’ comes to signify that which ‘still possesses something of this world … a soul shackled by pre-occupations,’ which ‘seeks the things of the flesh’ and ‘live[s] according to the flesh.’ ⁹⁹ Those who are in this morally compromised position, i.e. ‘certain souls which are less perfect,’ ¹⁰⁰ must pay the inevitable price: ‘He who has money or possessions or any worldly preoccupations should listen up: “Let every soul be subject to the higher authorities.”’ ¹⁰¹ But there is, for Origen, another alternative: ‘Peter and John used to have nothing to render to Caesar; for Peter says, “Gold and silver I do not have.” He who does not have this has nothing to render to Caesar, nor therefore, what he should subject to the higher authorities.’ ¹⁰² Origen thus introduces a moral hierarchy: the propertied Christians who remain under the temporal jurisdiction of Caesar, and the ‘blessed poor among the saints,’ who are entirely freed from Caesar’s jurisdiction. ¹⁰³ There are, therefore, gradations of justice—different degrees of well-ordered love—all of which have a role to play in the Church.

Origen has many profound reflections on the role of these ‘blessed poor’ in the Church, but another question must be settled first. Having established that a Christian may own a considerable amount of property (i.e. beyond the ‘necessities of life’) without thereby forfeiting his salvation (even if he does thereby forfeit the highest levels of Christian perfection), it remains to consider what the ‘right use’ of such property might be. What are the positive duties and responsibilities, in other words, of the wealthy Christian? It must be recalled, from the beginning of this article, that justice requires that certain debts be paid to others, in order that love be equitable rather than iniquitous. The just and ordered dispensation of material goods, or what we would today call ‘distributive justice,’ is obviously not a concern of the ‘blessed poor’ who possess no such goods, yet it remains a strict obligation on those with even relative wealth. Well-ordered love, in other words, puts real, concrete demands on the wealthy to distribute their material goods to those who have need of them.

In his Commentary on Matthew, Origen makes reference to the ‘bag of the Church,’ which was entrusted in his time to the care of a designated minister. ¹⁰⁴ This ‘bag’ would have depended entirely upon the contributions of the wealthy, thus serving as a means of uniting the ‘poor man who petitions God for his wants,’ and ‘those who have acquired more than sufficient of the needs of life.’ ¹⁰⁵ These, Origen says, will always receive support ‘from the sanctuary for necessary uses,’ ¹⁰⁶ so long as the wealthy are ever ‘ready to distribute, willing to communicate,’ ¹⁰⁷ imitating the ‘great kindness of God’ which has bestowed these gifts upon them. ¹⁰⁸ Likewise, and with more specificity, Origen recalls Christ’s commandment to ‘clothe the naked with our own spare tunic,’ ¹⁰⁹ to imitate the righteous Job in furnishing ‘the things needed for life to widows and orphans,’ ¹¹⁰ and the hospitality of Lot who ‘escapes the conflagration for this reason alone: because he opened his house to strangers.’ ¹¹¹ The wealthy should not be content to respond to requests of this kind: rather, they must eagerly ‘look around for the poor, the weak, the needy, in order to show them mercy,’ and ‘inquire after, and be anxiously concerned about, and pursue, and make diligent search for strangers, wherever they may be, lest perchance they may be sitting on the street or lying somewhere without a roof over their heads.’ ¹¹²

Beyond the care of the impoverished, Origen also stresses the obligations of the wealthy toward the material upkeep of the church and her clergy, of especial importance during a time when ecclesiastical institutions would have lacked the legal status enabling financial self-subsistence. In addition, as will be discussed below, Origen assumes that the clergy will have embraced voluntary poverty. Thus, Origen speaks of ‘the prayers and offerings which are presented in the churches of God for the use of the saints and the ministry of the priesthood.’ ¹¹³ Origen frequently compares the relationship between the laity and clergy to that between the Israelite tribes and the Levitical priests in the Old Covenant, in which case, ‘Those from the tribes, on the one hand, offer tithes and firstfruits to God through the Levites and priests.’ ¹¹⁴ In this way a happy exchange of goods takes place, ‘so that the priest and the Levite may obtain from the Israelite earthly things that they do not have, and so the Israelites may obtain from the priest and Levite heavenly and divine things that they do not have.’ ¹¹⁵ The wealthy, then, ‘are conscientious towards the servants of God and desire to serve them, for they are also fully ready and prepared for the furnishing of the Church or for the ministry … [and] even bring something for the decoration of the altar or church.’ ¹¹⁶ This symbiotic relationship is made possible only by the ‘excess’ wealth possessed by these patrons, and it is precisely this ‘right usage’ of this wealth that justifies its existence at all.

Almsgiving, however, is more than a mere economic exchange: it is a spiritual transaction which serves as a font of grace for the giver. When enumerating the various means of obtaining the remission of sins in the Gospel, Origen lists, immediately after baptism and martyrdom, the giving of alms, whereby the giver is rendered ‘clean’ by his gift. ¹¹⁷ Those who break bread for the hungry, clothe the naked, and judge justly will ‘make their lot with the Lord,’ and will thereby spiritually prosper. ¹¹⁸ Christians can imitate the patriarchs of the Old Testament by gathering virtues the way that the former gathered wives: ‘if you freely practice hospitality, you will appear to have taken her as your wife. If you shall add to this care of the poor, you will appear to have obtained a second wife.’ ¹¹⁹ Likewise, Origen describes almsgiving as one of the gifts given by the Spirit, making its practitioners ‘hands’ and ‘feet’ of the Body of Christ. ¹²⁰ Even if wealthy patrons of the Church are deficient in virtue, their patronage redounds to their spiritual credit, as Origen illustrates with an image drawn from the Shepherd of Hermas:

For [the Shepherd] says that there is a certain tree called the elm that does not produce fruit. Nevertheless, it supports a vine that produces a large amount of fruit. Since the vine flourishes strong and produces or preserves very much fruit, even the elm, which is unfruitful, seems necessary and useful because it serves as a prop for the fruitful vine … [T]hey wait upon the saints, and serve, and provide something useful; and, by some such arrangement from Jesus, they receive salvation. ¹²¹

It should go without saying, of course, that such almsgiving is of spiritual value only inasmuch as its motivations are sincere. Origen has nothing but scorn for wealthy patrons who remain unreformed and unrepentant as they pay their tithes, ¹²² and as for those who give alms ‘that it may be noted by men,’ all the credit for their almsgiving is ‘snatched away by the Egyptians’ and amounts to nothing. ¹²³ Almsgiving must be carried out with ‘simplicity of heart,’ cheerfully and joyfully, in order to obtain spiritual wealth in return for one’s material wealth. ¹²⁴

It should be noted that these previous considerations underline the distinctively Christian nature of Origen’s ethic, as distinguished from the more common late antique concern for euergetism, or civic benefaction. Certainly Christian almsgiving and Roman euergetism were animated by many common motivations: a distaste for greed and excessive luxury, a summons to greater self-control and moderation, and a desire to assist one’s fellow-citizen. Yet, as Peter Brown demonstrates in his recent work, Through the Eye of a Needle, ¹²⁵ the object of Roman euergetism was always one’s fellow Roman citizen, and usually one’s family: never do we find any particular mystique surrounding ‘the poor’ as such. ¹²⁶ Furthermore, the latter practice was usually tied up with the appropriation of civic honors for the benefactor, for which honors a barely-concealed rivalry often ensued between wealthy families. ¹²⁷ Origen’s rhetoric, on the other hand, always concerns generosity to the economically destitute, while insisting upon no other motivation than the gaining of ‘treasure in heaven.’ Additionally, Origen’s conception of almsgiving is ecclesial in shape, because the Christian clergy normally serve as mediators of distribution, and the Christian poor are assumed to have a special claim on such alms, as will be noted below.

Love as Justice Toward Others: Voluntary Renunciation of Property

Yet, as has already been made clear, such wealthy patrons of the church, and benefactors of the poor, function at a diminished level of moral virtue: to use the terms from the Commentary on the Song of Songs, their love falls short of the aequitas which is perfectly ordered. This latter, well-ordered love is manifested by those who have dispossessed themselves of all material wealth: ‘an exchange for his own life is given by the man who after his sins has given up his whole substance, that his property may feed the poor.’ ¹²⁸ Origen seems to refer to this duality in On Prayer, where he speaks of our debts to others, which may be paid either all at once or slowly over time. Wealthy Christians ‘pay a little and remain in debt,’ whereas those who embrace voluntary poverty ‘owe nothing to anybody.’ ¹²⁹ Although Origen speaks highly of material poverty as a virtue in itself—he speaks of the poor as the object of God’s special love, whom God prizes above the wealthy ¹³⁰ —he is well aware that many of the poor lead wicked lives, ¹³¹ and that poverty only brings virtue when it is embraced with a virtuous motivation. Those who do so, and obey Christ’s injunction to the rich young man, are ‘found to be perfect,’ ¹³² exemplary in their ‘manly virtue’ which outshines feminine weakness. ¹³³ Their sacrifice is compared by Origen to a ‘whole burnt offering,’ which is acceptable at the altar of God. ¹³⁴ As mentioned above, when a man can say with Peter and John, ‘Gold and silver I do not have,’ then ‘he has nothing to render to Caesar,’ and is removed entirely from earthly jurisdiction, dwelling rather ‘in Jerusalem while possessing spiritual riches.’ ¹³⁵

Origen does not possess as strict a distinction between the clerical, lay, and monastic states as would characterize later generations, but his writings do generally seem to assume that those who serve the Church ‘full-time’ will do so within the context of a commitment to voluntary poverty. In his Homilies on Genesis, Origen uses this assumption to contrast ‘the Lord’s priests’ with the priests of Pharaoh:

Indeed do you wish to know what the difference is between the priests of God and the priests of Pharao [sic]? Pharao grants land to his priests. The Lord, on the other hand, does not grant his priests a portion in the land, but says to them, ‘I am your portion’ [Num. 18:20]. You, therefore, who read these words, observe all the priests of the Lord and notice what difference there is between the priests, lest perhaps they who have a portion in the land and have time for earthly cares and pursuits may appear not so much to be priests of the Lord as priests of Pharao. For it is Pharao who wishes his priests to have possessions of lands and to work at the cultivation of the soil not of the soul, to give attention to the fields, and not to the Law. But let us hear what Christ our Lord admonishes his priests: ‘He who has not renounced all he possesses,’ he says, ‘cannot be my disciple.’ ¹³⁶

Only those who have sold their possessions and embraced spiritual perfection, thereby freeing themselves from all ‘earthly activities and from mundane possession,’ can ‘follow Christ,’ ¹³⁷ because only on this condition can they ‘devote their work to this alone and that they may have time for the word of God apart from any care.’ ¹³⁸ Origen also applies this requirement to those who ‘devote themselves to the divine Word and truly exist by the service of God alone,’ a description which may be broader than the ministerial priesthood and may include catechists and teachers (didaskaloi) like himself. ¹³⁹ As mentioned above, this state of poverty will force the clergy to be economically dependent upon the wealthier members of the laity: ‘in order that they may be able to have the time, they must use the services of the laity.’ ¹⁴⁰ This relationship of mutual dependence is well illustrated by Origen’s own career: upon entering the service of the Church, he immediately dispossessed himself of all his possessions, including his library, arranging only for a daily ‘allowance’ of four obols from his patrons. ¹⁴¹ Even more, those who enter this way of life will be forced into a more radical dependence upon divine Providence, aware that the Lord provides for those who trust Him. ¹⁴² Thus, in Origen’s view, a just and well-ordered distribution of goods ought to be flexible enough not only to provide for those involuntarily indigent, but also for those who voluntarily dispossess themselves of material goods for religious purposes.

To bring these reflections to a close, it has been demonstrated that, even if Origen never enunciated a systematic theory of distributive justice, his occasional remarks on this topic possess a consistency and a coherency that indicate a high degree of reflection on this topic. Origen consistently approaches the topic of the material economy from the perspective of the interrelated demands of charity, equity, and justice. He assumes that the place of the human person in the economy of creation places upon him concrete demands of ‘well-ordered love,’ both in relation to himself and to others. The execution of this ‘well-ordered love’ will require not only obtaining provision of one’s own basic necessities of life while avoiding an avaricious pursuit of excessive goods, but also using one’s excess goods to provide such necessities to others. This tension opens up the possibility of a moral hierarchy in Origen’s ecclesial vision, whereby the more perfect Christians enact a more radical dispossession of material goods (even the necessities of life!), which is made possible by the support of less perfect Christians, whose more than ample supply of goods enable them to act as patrons. Thus Origen’s vision of distributive justice is, at heart, a vision of the dramatic interactions of acts of well-ordered love.