1. Introduction
The central philosophical problem addressed in this article lies in the tension between divine sovereignty and human freedom—a dilemma that held a prominent place in early Christian theology. How can God’s omniscience and providence be reconciled with genuine human autonomy? This philosopheme, rooted in Hellenistic debates on fate (εἱμαρμένη) and self-determination, acquired specific contours in the fourth century amid the resurgence of deterministic currents such as Stoicism, Gnosticism, and Manichaean dualism.
The Greek-speaking Syrian bishop Eusebius of Emesa (c. 300–361 AD) engages with this issue in his homily
De arbitrio, voluntate Pauli et Domini passione1, offering a rigorous defence of free will against the fatalism of pagan thought, the predestination of Gnostic doctrines, and the determinism inherent in Manichaean views. For him, free will is the rational faculty that enables human beings to choose between virtue and sin (
De arbitrio 13;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 21:22–22:5), while divine sovereignty is understood as the providential governance that directs history toward salvation without suppressing human autonomy (
De arbitrio 10;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 19:15–20:5). Unlike Gregory of Nyssa, who approached free will from a Neoplatonic perspective emphasising the soul’s participation in the divine (
Peroli 1997, pp. 124–25, 130–31), or John Chrysostom, whose pastoral focus underscored moral responsibility without delving into philosophical distinctions (
Brestoiu 2013), particularly in his six homilies
De fato et providentia (
CPG 4367), Eusebius integrates Aristotelian logic with biblical exegesis. His distinction between primary causality (God) and secondary causality (human actions) allows him to reconcile divine omniscience with genuine human freedom.
This homily, which forms the focus of our critical analysis, exemplifies the exegetical method of the Antiochene school, prioritising the literal sense of Scripture to affirm free will as an essential attribute of human nature (
Simonetti 1985, pp. 127–29;
Ter Haar Romeny 1997, pp. 89–100;
Winn 2011, pp. 58–68). Though Eusebius remained an obscure figure in ecclesiastical history until a century ago, his rediscovery—initiated by
Wilmart’s (
1920, pp. 241–52) identification of a Latin manuscript in the municipal library of Troyes shortly after World War I and furthered by E. M. Buytaert’s
editio princeps in the 1950s—led to the recovery of twenty-nine homilies preserved in Latin translations from two distinct manuscript traditions (
Buytaert 1953,
1957). This article demonstrates that Eusebius’s solution, though pastoral in intent, rests upon a coherent philosophical framework that anticipates later medieval debates on grace and free will, positioning him as a bridge between late antiquity and scholasticism.
This article does not seek to determine the precise Christological position of Eusebius of Emesa, as this work lies beyond the scope of our study. His reputation as an opponent of Nicaea—based on his rejection of ὁμοούσιος, his association with Eusebius of Nicomedia and Eusebius of Caesarea, his involvement in anti-Nicene circles, and accusations of Arianism by Jerome, Theodoret of Cyrus, and other historical sources—does not, in itself, constitute definitive evidence of his adherence to Arianism. The limited number of modern studies on his Christology have produced divergent interpretations
2, largely due to the absence of a comprehensive analysis of his entire corpus, including the texts preserved in Armenian (eight homilies and a commentary on the Octateuch and Kings). In this regard, we align with the more recent assessments of Maurice
Wiles (
1987), who argues that the available evidence is insufficient to determine his doctrinal position with certainty, and Robert
Winn (
2011), who contends that Eusebius employed different Christological frameworks according to his pastoral needs and context.
2. The Bishop Eusebius
Eusebius
3 was born in Edessa, the capital of the Osroene region, located on the far side of the Euphrates. This city was the cradle of Christianity in the Syriac language and had a rich Christian culture long before it was definitively integrated into the Roman Empire (
Segal 1970, pp. 62–82). Although no source specifies the year of Eusebius’ birth, it is generally placed around 300. He hailed from a noble family in Edessa, likely all Christians, and his mother tongue was Syriac. During his childhood, he received a dual education: on the one hand, a Greek education under the guidance of the Hellenic teachers residing in the city, which enabled him to master Greek and become an eloquent rhetorician, and on the other hand, he also received a Christian education, based on the Scriptures, in accordance with local customs, which would shape his future exegetical orientation and his love for the Bible. This biblical training was further enriched by a study trip to Palestine, where he studied under Eusebius Pamphilus at the renowned school founded by Origen in Caesarea. After completing his studies, Eusebius did not return to Edessa, but instead moved to Antioch, where he was eventually ordained a priest. Sometime later, during a council presided over by Eusebius of Nicomedia, the bishop of Constantinople, and his anti-Nicene followers, Eusebius was elected as the new bishop, replacing Athanasius, in Alexandria (
Simonetti 1975, p. 143). He rejected such an honour to serve as the successor to the see of Alexandria, which ultimately fell to George of Cappadocia. He was eventually elected to the see of Emesa, a city that was deeply paganized at the time, famous for its worship of the sun (
Lipiński 2011), with Christianity not yet firmly established there. This likely explains why Eusebius became the second resident bishop of the city. However, shortly after his arrival, the Emessians accused him of practicing astrology. To avoid trouble, he fled and took refuge in Laodicea, where his personal friend, George, was bishop at the time. He later returned to his see but faced accusations of being a Sabellian
4. Up to this point, ecclesiastical historians provide no further details of his life. We know from Jerome (
De viris illustribus 91;
Richardson 1896, p. 46) that he was buried in Antioch during the reign of Emperor Constantius, who died in 361. The historical sources do not indicate that he abdicated his see to live in Antioch. Ecclesiastical historians Socrates (
Historia ecclesiastica, 2,9;
Hansen 1995, p. 99) and Sozomenus (
Historia ecclesiastica, 3,6;
Bidez and Hansen 1960, p. 99) add that he enjoyed the confidence of Emperor Constantius and accompanied him on his campaigns against the Persians.
3. De arbitrio
The sermon
De arbitrio, voluntate Pauli et Domini passione is only preserved in the Latin manuscript
T. 523, discovered by André Wilmart and later edited by Eugène M. Buytaert. It has only survived in its entirety through a Latin translation by a Gallic author, likely from the same century as the Greek original (
Buytaert 1949, pp. 5–7). However, two Greek excerpts from the sermon are found in
Eranistes by Theodoret of Cyrus (
Ettlinger 1975, pp. 250–52). This sermon exhibits the dynamic and intense style characteristics of a sacred orator. The sentences are concise, frequently employing rhetorical questions. Eusebius makes use of parallels and antitheses, demonstrating a penchant for puns and dramatic expressions. He often directly engages the audience, favouring reduplicative phrases, a feature influenced by his Semitic background, which leads him to repeat ideas for emphasis (
Buytaert 1948, p. 31).
The homily, as its Latin title suggests, addresses the conversion of the apostle Paul, who, after being a fervent persecutor of Christians, suddenly became the most zealous evangelist and an apostle whose mission far surpassed that of the Twelve. However, this episode raises an apparent contradiction between divine election from all eternity—known in Christian theology as predestination (
Levering 2011, pp. 36–67)—and human free will. Was Paul, a devout Jew firmly committed to his faith, compelled by God to assume his mission as the apostle to the Gentiles? Various biblical passages seem to suggest the absence of free will in certain acts of divine election. In Jeremiah 1:5, the prophet is said to have been chosen before his conception; in Romans 9:13, the preference for Jacob over Esau is affirmed, consistent with the account in Genesis 25:22–23; and in the narrative of Pharaoh’s hardened heart during the plagues of Egypt, the question of divine intervention in human will is once again raised. These scriptural texts prompt inquiry into whether God’s will operates in a determinative manner in the history of salvation, thereby limiting human free will, or whether free will remains an inalienable principle of human action. In addressing this tension, Eusebius sets aside his exegetical work to proceed with a theological foundation of free will as a fundamental aspect of human nature, aiming to elucidate this concept for
gentiles et Iudaeos et haereticos (
De arbitrio 13;
Buytaert 1953, p. 21:25). To this end, he employs both philosophical reasoning and moral arguments, as well as concrete examples drawn from experience. Subsequently, our bishop argues that if Paul’s destiny had been to continue persecuting Christians, Christ’s intervention would have been futile. However, his spiritual blindness—conceived as an act of divine mercy—prevented him from persisting on that misguided path. In this way, grace effected a radical transformation in his being, akin to yeast transforming dough, thereby demonstrating that the change was not the result of fate, but the manifestation of an internal transformation guided by the light and truth of Christ. Paul’s sin as a persecutor of the Church is difficult to overcome. It can be remedied by acts that counterbalance the injustice he committed. Redemption arises from an individual’s reparative and transformative actions.
The final section of Eusebius of Emesa’s De arbitrio focuses on the suffering and death of Christ as a manifestation of divine free will. The main idea is that Christ’s Passion was not an act of forced predestination, but rather a voluntary decision made by Christ, who, moved by love and obedience to the Father, chose to suffer for the salvation of humanity. Furthermore, Eusebius emphasises the relationship between human free will and divine will, suggesting that redemption does not stem from an imposition by God, but from a free divine consent, which is also reflected in the lives of saints, such as the Apostle Paul.
In summary, this homily directly challenges the pagan worldview of the Greco-Roman world (
Chadwick 2001), and, in contrast, presents a Christian perspective in which human beings are truly free and, consequently, responsible for their actions. Based on this premise, divine punishment is justified if an individual fails to repent and seek God’s forgiveness.
The homily was most likely composed in Emesa, where Eusebius held his episcopal see, reflecting his pastoral concerns in a city where Christianity was a minority within a profoundly pagan religious environment. In this context, the worship of Elagabalus, the sun god, held significant prominence in Rome during the third century, particularly under the last emperors of the Severan dynasty (
Millar 1993, pp. 300–10;
Icks 2009). Likewise, Babylonian astrology enjoyed a privileged status and was highly esteemed within Neoplatonic philosophy (
Shaw 1995, pp. 147–62). Eusebius’s reference to ‘heretics’ likely identifies the Manichaeans. The Church Fathers, however, classified them not as a formal religion, but as a sect. Augustine’s
De moribus Ecclesiae Catholicae et de Moribus Manichaeorum exemplifies this view; he systematically contrasts their doctrines with Christian orthodoxy. Similarly, Epiphanius of Salamis labels them Christian heresy in his
Panarion (Haer. 66). These textual critiques will be analysed in detail later. Additionally, the homily exhibits a pronounced anti-Jewish tone, a characteristic feature of Eusebius’ writings (
Hennings 2001). This perspective can be partly attributed to the proselytising competition between Judaism and Christianity in the Antiochene region, where Judaism maintained a significant presence. Eusebius consistently employs this anti-Jewish stance whenever possible, unhesitatingly making his sentiments known to his audience; however, in this particular instance, he deliberately refrains from extending his polemics to issues concerning human determinism.
The homily develops its argument against the notion of fate on two distinct levels. The first, the exegetical level, sees Eusebius—following the Antiochene tradition—demonstrating remarkable proficiency. Here, he focuses on Paul’s conversion and reinforces his exposition with the supreme example of Christ in his Passion, who willingly surrenders himself to death to save humanity. This level is both the most extensive and significant, as the bishop intends for his audience to regard Saint Paul as the ultimate model—both biblically and within the Christian tradition—of the human freedom bestowed by God.
The second level is theological. In this domain, his treatment is brief and less elaborate than that of other ecclesiastical writers. It is noteworthy that Eusebius is primarily recognised as an exceptional exegete and rhetorician, rather than as a speculative theologian. He acts more like a pastor, defending his flock while subtly alluding to his adversaries. It is in this realm that his opponents are most clearly discernible, comprising three distinct groups: Gnostics, Manichaeans, and Stoics. This pastoral approach stands in notable contrast to the work of a later bishop of the same see, Nemesius of Emesa (
Torrijos 2023), whose intellectual orientation is markedly more philosophical than pastoral.
In what follows, we shall examine these two levels of argumentation: the exegetical and the theological.
4. Exegetical Level
Eusebius, following the exegetical tradition of the Antiochene school, adopts an approach similar to that of the Alexandrian philologists in their analysis of Homeric poems; he considers the text itself to be self-sufficient, thus eliminating the need to resort to external sources (
Cebrián 2019, pp. 103–6). He applies the same perspective to the Bible, suggesting that obscure passages can be explained through other biblical verses (
De arbore fici 4–5;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 253–54). In this case, the passage in question is the conversion of St. Paul, which may appear to contradict the concept of human free will. To clarify this, Eusebius turns to other seemingly enigmatic texts, such as the predestination of the prophet Jeremiah, the divine preference for Jacob over Esau, and the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart during the plagues of the Exodus. After elucidating these passages, Eusebius ultimately presents the Passion of Christ as the supreme model of human freedom.
4.1. Jeremiah and Jacob
The divine election of Jeremiah and Jacob is based on God’s omniscience, by which He foreknows the actions and dispositions of each individual. As stated in Jeremiah 1:5,
Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; and before you were born, I sanctified you. Jeremiah is sanctified before birth because God foresees his fervour. Similarly, Jacob is chosen over Esau because God anticipates his righteousness, whereas Esau will despise what is valuable. As written in Genesis 25:22–23, God declares that
the older shall serve the younger, and Romans 9:13 affirms,
Jacob I have loved, but Esau I have hated. Thus, divine justice is not arbitrary, but corresponds to the foreknowledge of human deeds, where the initiation belongs to man, but knowledge and completion belong to God.
Let us turn our attention to Jeremiah: Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; and before you came forth from the womb, I sanctified you. God knew him and acted to sanctify him. For God was aware of Jeremiah’s fervour, and therefore He granted him sanctification. Likewise, God chose Jacob and rejected Esau. Whom, then, should God have chosen: Jacob or Esau? If Esau, therefore, disregards, while Jacob acquires what is honourable, the One who possesses foreknowledge judges rightly before events take place. For what He has done, God already knew, since He possesses knowledge prior to occurrence. Thus, God chose Jacob, foreseeing his future diligence in works, and rejected Esau, knowing what Esau would do, so that the beginning indeed belongs to us, but the knowledge and completion belong to God.
Eusebius’s exegesis of Jeremiah 1:5 and Romans 9:13 innovatively reinterprets divine election as a dynamic interplay between divine foreknowledge and human agency. Unlike contemporary theologians such as Augustine, who later emphasised predestination as an act of inscrutable divine will (
Levering 2011, p. 45), Eusebius anchors election in God’s anticipatory recognition of human merit. This approach subtly challenges deterministic readings of Paul while preserving Antiochene commitment to literal exegesis.
4.2. The Hardening of Pharaoh’s Heart
The hardening of Pharaoh’s heart during the plagues of Exodus is interpreted through a literalist approach, avoiding readings extraneous to the biblical text, in accordance with the exegesis of Eusebius of Emesa, who rejects the use of allegorical interpretations (
De arbore fici 8;
Buytaert 1953, p. 261). The key hermeneutical principle lies in the notion that God did not impose an artificial obstinacy upon Pharaoh, but merely withdrew His mercy, thereby allowing Pharaoh, who was left to his own wickedness, to persist in his inherent cruelty. Eusebius reinforces this interpretation through a detailed textual analysis; at no point does Scripture state that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart while he was suffering the plagues, but only once had they ceased. This exegetical nuance seeks to dispel any notion of divine arbitrariness, thereby avoiding the implication that God would be unjust in punishing Pharaoh for an action He Himself had directly caused.
Thus, Pharaoh, cruel and slaying the young children in the river, hardened against God’s commandments, declared: I do not know the Lord (Exodus 5:2). Therefore, plagues were inflicted upon him, not out of God’s wrath, but through divine providence. God says to Pharaoh: For this very reason, I have raised you up, that I may demonstrate my power through you (Exodus 9:16). And God hardened his heart, not by coercion, but by withholding His warning. The first plague was sent: the waters were turned into blood (Exodus 7:20). This softened Pharaoh’s hardened heart. However, when God removed the plague and restored the waters, Pharaoh, now freed from affliction, hardened his heart once more—not because God compelled him, but because, with the removal of divine intervention, he seized the opportunity to persist in his obstinacy. Scripture does not state that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart (Exodus 8:15) while the plague endured, but rather upon its cessation, meaning that God’s action consisted in withdrawing the affliction.
Eusebius reinforces his exegesis through a medical analogy, introducing a significant simile: the Pharaoh is akin to a condemned body whose dissection enables the salvation of others. His fate was already determined by his own actions; however, his punishment serves not only to instruct the people of Israel, but also to manifest divine justice.
Just as physicians take a condemned man and examine his body—not out of cruelty toward him, but for the sake of those who must be healed— […] so too was Pharaoh, already condemned by his own sins, afflicted with plagues to instruct the descendants of Abraham.
Eusebius’s interpretation of Exodus 9:16 transcends mere Antiochene literalism by presenting a view of divine action that is permissive in certain instances, such as this biblical case, rather than coercive. His insistence that God “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” only after the cessation of the plague constitutes a critique of both Stoic fatalism and Manichaean dualism, which attributed evil to external forces. This exegesis reveals a remarkable theological subtlety by distinguishing between the active governance of God—understood as providence—and the permissive tolerance of human sin. In so doing, Eusebius teaches that although humanity incurs guilt, divine justice remains intact. This distinction, predating that formulated by Thomas Aquinas in the Summa Theologiae (I–II, q.79), offered the small Christian community of Emesa an explanation of sin and divine punishment that contrasted with the prevailing astrological determinism in the city.
4.3. The Conversion of Saint Paul
Eusebius of Emesa’s exegetical interpretation of Paul’s conversion is found in several key passages, where he argues that this event was not a divine imposition, but rather the consequence of Paul’s prior spiritual blindness and the illumination he received through the living and resurrected Christ. Below, we present six key points that, in our view, Eusebius of Emesa employs to understand the conversion of Saint Paul.
4.3.1. Their Persecution of Christians Is Based on Ignorance, Not Evil
Seeing clearly that Paul desires good things but is ignorant of them, God accepts his eagerness and grants him knowledge.
Eusebius describes Paul’s zeal as a guardian of the Law of Moses and Jewish traditions, as well as his deep hatred towards Christ and his followers prior to his conversion, portraying him as an ignorant Pharisee blinded by fanaticism. His lack of knowledge of Christ’s truth renders his sin a consequence of intellectual deficiency rather than innate depravity. Like Clement of Alexandria (Stromata II, 15), our bishop holds that moral error is not always entirely voluntary, but may stem from an intellectual shortcoming or a lack of education that hinders correct action. By emphasising Paul’s misguided sincerity, Eusebius not only humanises the apostle, but also underscores the dependence of free will on divine illumination.
4.3.2. Christ Does Not Impose Faith on Paul, but Enlightens His Soul
Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? Jesus said. The voice came from above; but Saul’s zeal persecuted him whom he believed to be in hell.
Eusebius, by noting that Saul persecuted Christ—whom he presumed to be in the Sheol—reveals a crucial detail: his attitude mirrors that of an intransigent Pharisee who regarded Jesus as a blasphemer condemned by God in accordance with Deuteronomy 21:23. The celestial voice constitutes a decisive revelation for Paul, as it not only extricates him from his obstinate error, but also unveils the truth: the resurrection of Jesus from the dead and the affirmation of his messianism by God the Father. This episode clearly demonstrates that God does not compel Paul to believe; rather, it illuminates his understanding, thereby enabling him to recognise his own ignorance and error.
4.3.3. Paul’s Physical Blindness Symbolises His Spiritual Blindness
The light flashed, and the eyes of his persecutor were darkened, for he ought not to have pursued him. But why did the light flash, and why were Paul’s eyes blinded? Clearly, out of mercy.
Eusebius understands this episode as a manifestation of the balance between divine justice (punishing error) and mercy (transforming the heart). The homily invites us to recognise the divine action in trials, interpreting them not as arbitrary punishments, but as opportunities for conversion and spiritual growth. This approach reflects a profoundly optimistic view of providence, where even the darkest deeds can be redeemed by grace.
4.3.4. Predestination in Catholic Theology: Grace and Human Cooperation
However, let those things concerning Paul be placed before our eyes, so that we may understand what was meant by the words: No one can come to me unless it has been given to him by my Father who is in heaven.
Eusebius of Emesa’s commentary on John 6:65 refers to Romans 8:29–30, where predestination is understood as a process encompassing the call, justification, and glorification, all subject to divine will. In this respect, the author aligns himself with the Catholic view of grace: salvation is a divine work that nevertheless requires an entirely free human response, thereby avoiding the extremes of Gnostic determinism—which denies human freedom—and Pelagianism, which overemphasises human merit.
Eusebius of Emesa, an exegete of the Antiochene school, advocated an approach that highlighted both the humanity of the biblical characters and their moral agency. In doing so, he sought to steer clear of two extremes: fatalism, which nullifies human responsibility under a divine determinism, and the Pharisaic moralism that had influenced Saint Paul’s formation. Although Eusebius identified with the Antiochene tradition, it is noteworthy that this school later gave rise to an incipient form of Pelagianism, as clearly manifested in Theodore of Mopsuestia—who, despite his open protection and sympathy towards Julian of Eclanum, was never doctrinally condemned for his stance (
Lera 1973, pp. 95–100).
4.3.5. When Free Will Is Abolished, Law and Merit Become Meaningless
If free will is taken away, the law ceases, and the commandments become superfluous.
Eusebius emphasises a fundamental Christian theological and moral premise: if free will were to be denied, the Mosaic Law—with its precepts and demands—would lose its entirely revelatory and pedagogical function. The Law in the Holy Scriptures not only establishes precepts, but also presupposes human freedom to either obey or reject divine will (Deuteronomy 30:19). If human being were to lack such freedom, commandments such as those of the Decalogue or the Levitical Law would be rendered devoid of any meaning regarding reward or punishment, as there would be no possibility for moral choice or responsibility. Through this argument, Eusebius rejects views that negate human agency—such as those put forward by the Gnostics—and defends the coherence of biblical revelation, in accordance with the assertion that “the doers of the law shall be justified” (Romans 2:13), which inherently presupposes the existence of human freedom.
4.3.6. Paul Not Only Accepts Suffering, but Desires Even More
I wish you would add even more to me! For I owe much, because I have persecuted them.
Eusebius attributes to Paul a theological interpretation that highlights his stance on the suffering and pain experienced following his conversion, emphasising both its expiatory dimension and its connection to human freedom. According to this reading, Paul assumes a moral responsibility rooted in free will: he acknowledges his guilt for having persecuted Christians (Galatians 1:15) and accepts suffering as a means of settling his spiritual debt. In this way, an intrinsic relationship is established between human freedom (the capacity to sin and to repent) and divine justice, wherein suffering is not conceived as a passive punishment, but rather as a voluntary act of reparation.
In conclusion, the six points extracted from Eusebius of Emesa’s homily demonstrate that Paul’s conversion arises from the interplay between divine grace and free will, thereby rejecting deterministic positions. Eusebius contends that Paul’s persecution of Christians stemmed from ignorance—a misdirected zeal for the Mosaic Law—which manifests as an intellectual deficiency rather than moral depravity. Divine intervention, as illustrated by Christ’s rebuke on the road to Damascus, rectifies Paul’s error by revealing the risen Messiah, while his physical blindness symbolises a spiritual darkness transformed by divine mercy. Furthermore, Eusebius reconciles predestination with human freedom, asserting that grace empowers free will—an essential element for the efficacy of the Mosaic Law and moral responsibility—and regards suffering as a voluntary act of reparation that integrates the acknowledgement of guilt with divine justice.
4.4. The Passion of Christ
The final section of the homily (
De arbitrio 28–40;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 31:26–43:5) presents Eusebius of Emesa’s reflection on the Passion of Christ, highlighting it as the supreme example of human freedom, as He voluntarily accepted His sacrifice on the cross for the salvation of humanity. In this passage (
De arbitrio 29;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 31:26–33:16), the bishop establishes a connection between Paul’s conversion and the Passion of the Lord, drawing a comparison between the apostle’s courage and Christ’s apparent withdrawal before His Passion. He begins by recounting the episode in
Acts 14:8–18, in which Paul and Barnabas are mistaken for gods and, despite the acclamation of the crowd, humbly reject idolatrous worship. Ultimately, due to his unwavering fidelity to the Lord and his absolute rejection of idolatry, Paul is stoned to death. From this contrast, Eusebius raises a theological question: while the apostles confront suffering and death without renouncing their faith, Christ, in appearance, seems to evade or withdraw from the cross. In response to this apparent paradox, the bishop argues that He who grants His disciples the strength to face death without fear does not retreat out of fear Himself, but rather awaits the decisive moment within the divine plan of salvation (οἰκονομία). However, when His “hour” finally arrives, Christ surrenders voluntarily and faces His persecutors without resistance. To reinforce this argument, Eusebius emphasises that, had Jesus wished to avoid His death, He could have fled or summoned a legion of angels for His defence (
Matthew 26:53).
Finally, Eusebius concludes with a theological reflection on the impassibility of divinity: although Christ suffered bodily on the cross, his soul could not be affected by death, just as the mind does not suffer when the body is wounded. Here, we have a good example of divine impassibility:
All these bodily sufferings are attributed to the one who dwells within. If you throw a stone at the image (imaginem) of the king, what is said? “You have insulted the king.” […] If you crucify the body of Christ, what is said? “Christ has died for us.” […] Whatever happens to the body is ascribed to Him. For He also experienced hunger. Who? The one who provides food. […] Since He dwelled in a body, He allowed the body to undergo what is natural to it, so that both aspects of His being might be truly revealed: that He is both God and man. […] He raised the dead as God. He was seized as a man, He suffered as a man, and He died. However, He did not die merely as a man, for He was not born merely as a man. […] How was the Lord born? Not from a man and a woman, but Wisdom took on a body from a created being, from the daughter of Adam, in order to bring salvation from that original error.
Eusebius’ literalist exegesis of Christ’s Passion reflects a primitive dyophysite Christology that distinguishes the dual nature of the incarnate Son of God. Historical sources indicate that he was accused of Arianism for rejecting the term ὁμοούσιος at the Council of Nicaea (
Wiles 1987, pp. 267–69); however, there is no textual evidence to suggest that he adhered to radical Arianism (anomeanism, ἀνόμοιος), as advocated by Eunomius and Aetius. His distinction between the natures of Christ (“God and man”) might superficially resemble Nestorianism, yet he does not deny the personal unity of Christ. Whilst Nestorius posited such a separation of natures that he spoke of “two sons,” Eusebius insists on the oneness of Christ, employing the image of the king and clearly affirming the communicatio idiomatum (the reciprocal attribution of divine and human properties to Christ). In De Fide, his rejection of Nestorianism becomes even more evident, as he explicitly denies the division of Christ into two persons: non aliud apud Patrem, alius autem nobiscum (De Fide 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 87:14).
In the conclusion of the homily, Eusebius asserts that human free will is manifested in the capacity to make a personal decision regarding the truth of Christ, thereby responding freely and consciously to divine revelation—that is, by exercising one’s faith. Consequently, salvation is accessible to those who choose to correctly confess to Christ and adhere to the orthodox faith, voluntarily aligning their will with that of God. In the absence of this freedom to accept or reject, salvation would lose its character as a personal and voluntary response, thereby undermining a fundamental aspect of the Christian message:
Each individual bears within themselves their own conception of faith. For one must not suppose that the Lord’s primary judgement concerns what a person may have stolen. Rather, the first judgement lies in whether one has professed God as Father; or, alternatively, the judgement derives from His words.
5. Theological Level
We now move from Eusebius the exegete to Eusebius the theologian and pastor of souls. In this brief section of his homily (
De arbitrio 13–17;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 21:22–25:7), he interrupts his exegesis on Saint Paul to present a systematic defence of free will against all forms of determinism. His argumentation extends from metaphysics—the nature of man—to ethics—the necessity of freedom for virtue—thus reinforcing the Christian doctrine of moral responsibility and divine justice. His teaching is firmly rooted in the orthodox Catholic tradition, rejecting Stoic fatalism, Gnostic predestination, and Manichaean dualism, while reaffirming the teaching of Genesis: man was created good and free, and in that freedom lies his dignity. Let us now examine in detail the arguments he puts forward to uphold the reality of free will in human nature.
5.1. Free Will as an Essential Attribute and Foundation of Morality
Eusebius begins with a fundamental premise: the nature (φύσις) of each being entails its essence (οὐσία), attributes (ἀποτελέσματα), and inherent properties. Just as the sun possesses light, fire heat, and water moisture, the human soul is endowed with
cogitatum (thought),
arbitrium (judgement), and
voluntatem (will) (
De arbitrio 13;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 21:22–22:5). These elements are not mere accidents, but essential properties of human nature, intrinsic to its very constitution. In this way, Eusebius presents free will as an intrinsic component of the human condition, rendering untenable any deterministic conception wherein human actions arise from necessity or compulsion.
Building upon this foundation, Eusebius delves into the realm of morality. If human beings lacked the capacity to freely choose between good and evil, morality itself would be devoid of meaning and foundation. The faculty to discern between opposing concepts—such as
pudicitia (chastity) and
libido (lust), or justice and injustice (
De arbitrio 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 23:5–9)—demonstrates the existence of an autonomous will capable of inclining toward one extreme or the other.
Eusebius explicitly rejects the position that it would have been preferable for humans to have been created innately good—that is, incapable of committing evil (
De arbitrio 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 22:18–21). For him, such a notion negates the very essence of virtue, as genuine goodness can only arise from a free and conscious choice. To illustrate this argument, he employs an analogy: a chained dog does not bite—
canis enim ligatus invitus non mordet (
De arbitrio 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 22:27)—but this does not imply that the dog has developed self-restraint or chastity. Similarly, a human incapable of sin cannot be considered virtuous, but merely compelled to obey. Thus, Eusebius emphasises that virtue resides in the freedom of choice and the conscious exercise of the will oriented toward the good.
Through this conception of free will, Eusebius of Emesa makes a significant contribution to Christian theology and anthropology. His perspective reinforces the idea that human dignity lies in the capacity for self-determination and moral responsibility, distancing itself from both pagan fatalism and any form of absolute predestination. Furthermore, his approach provides a rational defence of divine justice, asserting that God’s judgement of humanity is legitimate only if individuals possess the freedom to choose their own path.
5.2. Free Will as the Foundation of Human Moral Responsibility
If free will did not exist, punishment for sin would be an injustice, and morality would lack a solid foundation. If our actions were inexorably determined by fate or an external will, it would be absurd to both reproach sin and praise virtue. Eusebius illustrates this idea with the example of Saint Paul’s conversion (Acts 23:10–17). Had God created him predetermined as a persecutor or as an apostle, his transformation would lack merit. However, since it was Paul who freely chose to abandon his error, his conversion and preaching become genuinely human and meritorious acts.
Eusebius’s argument centres on the interplay between divine grace and human agency, a balance that avoids the extremes of Pelagian self-sufficiency and deterministic fatalism. By framing Paul’s conversion as a synergy of divine illumination (Acts 9:3–6) and voluntary repentance (Acts 22:16), he underscores a theological middle ground: grace enables freedom without negating it. This aligns with his Antiochian exegesis, yielding a theology that prioritises the moral choices of human actors within salvation history. Unlike Gnostic or Manichean systems—which attributed evil to cosmic forces or predestined dualism—Eusebius roots moral responsibility in humanity’s inherent rationality (λογικός), a reflection of the imago Dei (Genesis 1:27). His reasoning anticipates later scholastic distinctions between primary and secondary causality, yet remains grounded in pastoral concerns: without free will, the call to repentance (Matthew 4:17) would be meaningless in a paganised context like Emesa, where astrological and fatalist worldviews prevailed.
5.3. Against Gnosticism and Manichaeism: The World Was Created Good
At this point, Eusebius responds to Gnostic (
Jonas 1934, pp. 156–210;
Orbe 1974, pp. 343–47;
Lewis 2013, pp. 85–101) and Manichean doctrines (
Puech 1936;
Bianchi 1983;
Bermejo 2013, pp. 127–34), which viewed the material world as evil and mankind as trapped in a preordained fate. Following the teaching of the
Hexameron (the six days of creation in Genesis), Eusebius emphasises that God made all things good, including man. Evil, therefore, does not stem from nature or from an external imposition, but from the misuse of free will. As Eusebius states,
If, however, we were created as rational beings, and we have senses, thought, and the will of free choice, these are features of our nature. He who eliminates the will of free choice destroys our nature (
De Arbitrio 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 22:14–17). This is a thoroughly orthodox position, rejecting the idea of predestination to evil and reaffirming the original goodness of creation.
5.4. Against Stoic Fatalism: Free Will and Morality in Eusebius
Eusebius not only articulates a defence of free will against Gnostic and Manichean determinism, but also implicitly extends his critique to Stoic fatalism, though—as was customary in patristic debates—his exegesis of these schools lacks precise historiographical nuance. The Stoics, indeed, posited a universe governed by cosmic necessity (ἀνάγκη) expressed through the universal Λόγος and εἱμαρμένη, a doctrine asserting that all events, including human actions, unfolded according to an immutable causal chain (
Bobzien 1998, pp. 45–47). This radical determinism framed an ethical paradigm wherein virtue resided in resigned acquiescence to fate, thereby negating genuine volitional self-determination. Eusebius identifies here a problematic parallel with Gnostic doctrines, as both traditions, despite metaphysical divergences, converged in diminishing human moral agency.
Against this determinism, Eusebius advances a moral refutation of fate.
Tim Hegedus (
2007, pp. 114–24) observes that other patristic critiques of fate employ the same moral argument: ethics would lose its ontological foundation if choices between good and evil were not products of autonomous deliberation (
De arbitrio 14;
Buytaert 1953, p. 22:14–17). He contends that, were Stoic predestination accepted, concepts such as guilt or merit would become chimaeras—a man predetermined to impurity could claim no responsibility for his vices, just as one destined to righteousness could assert no moral credit. However, as empirical evidence, Eusebius invokes introspective human experience—shame in transgression and satisfaction in virtue (
De arbitrio 16;
Buytaert 1953, p. 23:19–28)—psychological phenomena presupposing awareness of voluntary choice. This capacity for self-transformation, illustrated by historical examples such as pagans embracing Christianity or sinners adopting chastity (
De arbitrio 17;
Buytaert 1953, pp. 24:23–25:8), demonstrates for Eusebius that humans act as rational agents (λογικός) capable of transcending their condition through volition, not as passive epiphenomena of a predetermined cosmic order. In this context, Eusebius presents the paradigmatic example of the conversion of the Apostle Paul.
6. Conclusions
In the homily De arbitrio, voluntate Pauli et Domini passione, Eusebius of Emesa confronts the perennial dilemma of reconciling divine sovereignty with human free will—a philosopheme deeply rooted in Hellenistic debates on fate and autonomy and given particular urgency in the fourth-century context, where deterministic currents such as Stoic fatalism, Gnostic predestination, and Manichaean dualism threatened to undermine the Christian doctrine of moral responsibility. Through a rigorous analysis of pivotal biblical passages—including the conversion of St Paul, the divine election of Jeremiah and Jacob, the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, and the voluntary nature of Christ’s Passion—Eusebius articulates a philosophically robust conception of human freedom that is firmly grounded in Scripture.
His exegetical methodology, characteristic of the Antiochene school, prioritises the literal and historical sense of the text, while his theological reflections underscore the intrinsic dignity of human nature, endowed by God with the capacity for self-determination. By systematically distinguishing between divine primary causality (God’s providential governance) and secondary causality (human volition), he preserves both divine omniscience and genuine human agency, positioning free will as an ontological attribute of humanity’s God-given nature. Unlike contemporaries such as Gregory of Nyssa or John Chrysostom—each of whom approached the tension between divine will and human freedom from differing perspectives—Eusebius synthesises Aristotelian logic with biblical exegesis to offer a distinct solution that serves not merely as academic discourse, but as a pastoral rebuttal to prevailing deterministic worldviews.
Ultimately, this homily transcends its historical context by providing a theological blueprint that reaffirms free will as both a divine gift and a cornerstone of Christian salvation. By integrating rigorous exegetical analysis with metaphysical reasoning, Eusebius bridges the gap between patristic and later scholastic thought, ensuring that moral responsibility remains intrinsically linked to divine justice. In doing so, he emerges as a pivotal—though historically underappreciated—figure whose insights continue to illuminate contemporary debates on faith, moral autonomy, and grace.