Perhaps the first western to describe circumstantially the miraculous
painless birth and Mary’s perpetual physical intactness is Zeno of Verona in
his sermons delivered in 362-72. In these he obviously depends on the account
in the Protoevangelium of James, but he already shows the characteristic
emphasis on the three phases of the virginity set side by side: ‘ceterum fuit
illa uirgo post connubium, uirgo post conceptum, urigo post filium’ (Tract. I
5.3; cf. II 8.2).
It is usual in this context to refer to Hilary of Poitiers. Even Hugh Koch
(Adhuc Virgo, p. 29) is of the opinion that De trinitate III 19
(PL 10, 87) assumes the virginitas in partu, with which Hilary had obviously
become acquainted ‘during his involuntary stay in the East (356-359)’. ‘According
to the whole connected sequence—it speaks of the Father’s having suffered no damnum
through the begetting of the Son—the virginitas in partu is certainly
not meant alone, or even primarily; but it is meant to be included.’ Now is may
certainly be dangerous to argue on the basis of a text on which no critical edition
is yet available; but I think I can show that even thus cautious formulation by
Koch goes too far.
In the assertions under discussion it is, in fact, indispensable to
consider ‘the whole connected sequence’ if we are to understand them properly.
Taking up an anti-Arian position, Hilary first emphasizes that in the Son the
whole fullness of the Father dwelt bodily (Col. 2.9) (III 15), and that
according to John 17.4 the father was first revealed to us through him (III
16). ‘Nam deum nemo noscit, nisi confiteatur et patrem unigeniti filii et
filium non de portione aut dilation aut emission, sed ex exo natum
inenarrabiliter, incomprehensibiliter ut filium a patre plenitudinem
diuinitatis, ex qua et in qua natus est, obtinentem, uerum et infinitum et
perfectum deum; haec enim Dei est plenitudo’ (III 17). The point is that this inexpressible
birth should be believed. The Son himself performed his miracle on earth—the changing
of water into wine and the feeding of the multitude are specially mentioned—in order
to make us certain about the birth: ‘iolens itaque filius huius natiuitatis
suae fidem facere factorum suorum nobis posuit exemplum ut per inenarrabilium
gestorum suorum inenarrabilem efficientiam de uirtute natiuitatis doceremur.’ A
direct perception of the divine mystery is denied to us, ‘quibus intelligentia
ad conspicabiles res et corporeas coarctatur’; but if we hold to the visible miracle,
we can also affirm the incomprehensible. For the Son is the Father’s image: ‘cum
enim sensu atque uerbis imaginem apprehendimus, necesse est etiam eum, cuus
imago est, consequamur.’ But we do not cease to make our foolish and wicked
demands for the invisible, ‘quomodo filius et unde filius et quo damno patris
uel ex qua portione sit natus’, instead of keeping to the evidential exempla
operationum (III 18). Instead of embarking o those injudicious questions,
one should therefore cite further miracles which elucidate them indirectly, and
which, although just as incomprehensible, were actually experienced in Jesus’
life: ‘quaeris, quomodo secundum spirtum natus sit filius; ergo te de corporeis
rebus interrogo’ (III 19).
So far the context is clear; we must simply not bring the ‘secundum spiritum’
(κατα πνευμα) into contact with the virgin birth through the
Spirit, but must always relate the words into the divine eternal birth of the
Son from the Father. This holds good in just the same way for the further
example of the passage of Christ’s risen body through the closed doors (John
20.19). This picture is eagerly brought in later to illuminate the miracles of
the uterus clausus; the earliest western example that I know of is in Rufinus,
Comm. symb. 9. In the relevant passage, however, the miracle is again
used only to give mundane corroboration of the supramundane miracle of the divine
birth: ‘adstitit dominus clauso domo in medio discipulorum—et filius est natus
ex patre, noli negare, quod steterit, quia per intelligentiae infirmitatem
consistentis non consequaris introitum—noli nescire, quod ab ingenito et
perfecto deo patre unigenitus et perfectus filius deus natus sit, quia sensum
et sermonem umanae naturae uirtus generationis excedat’ (III 20).
Now in between there is in III 19 a short section which also brings in
Jesus’ virgin birth as a further earthly miracle that is to substantiate the
miracle of the divine birth. This view again put the closing formula beyond
doubt: ‘et quidem fas esset, non imossibile in deo opinari, quod per uirtutem
eius possible fuisse in homine cognoscimus.’ But in what does the analogy of
the miraculous between the heavenly and the earthly birth consist? Obviously in
this: that just as God experienced no diminution through the begetting of a
son, although he had brought him forth out of his own nature, so Mary had no
co-operation from a man, and yet brought forth a complete human being without thereby
diminishing her own nature: ‘et certe non suscepit, quod edidit, sed caro
carnem sine elementorum nostorum pudore prouexit et perfectum ipsa de suis non imminuta generauit.’ There is
no meditation here on the detailed circumstances of a supposedly painless birth
without loss of blood and so on; the point of the miracle is rather that Mary ‘received’
nothing from outside and could yet, as a complete human bring, bring forth a
complete human being. The phrase ‘sine elementorum nostrorum pudore’ refers to
the sexual act which otherwise is necessary for the begetting of a human being,
but which here did not take place; cf. Tract. psalm. LXVII (Zingerle, CSEL,
22 [1891], 301): ‘quia ipsae illae corporum et elementorum nostorum originies
sint pudendae.’ I cannot find according to this, as Koch claims, op cit.
29, n. 1, that in particular Tertullian’s view ‘that this process of Jesus’
birth in relation to the pudenda did not differ from other births (Adv.
Marc. III 11; IV 21; De carne Christi 4)’ was negatived in the sense
of a virginitas in partu. For up to now our text has not been at all
about a virginitas in partu. It is a question now whether this was so in
the preceding sentence that connects with the introductory secudum spiritum
natus sit filius; ego te de corporeis rebus interrogo. non (?) quaero, quomodo
natus ex uirgine sit, an detrimentum sui caro perfactam ex se carnem generans
perpessa sit. et certe non suscepit’, etc. It is a question whether the ‘non’
of the traditional text can remain, and in my opinion that is not the case. But
even if we keep the negation, the sentence still does not contain the clear affirmation
of a virginitas in partu idea that one would like to find in it. Let us
substantiate this first.
Non quaero—that means therefore, that Hilary has no wish to
discuss in greater detail the mysteries, the quomodo, of the virgin
birth from Mary. Especially he does not with to go into the question whether or
her ‘flesh’ suffered injury through it. That would mean, in my opinion, that Hilary
as well as Zeno soon afterwards, already knows the Greek story of the
miraculous birth in the Protoevangelium of James, but that—as was once
the case with Clement of Alexandria . . . –he does not want to enter into a
more detailed discussion of those statements. Such an attitude would be all the
more understandable, as the comparison would hardly have yielded anything serviceable
for what he had in mind; for the ‘damnum’ of a diminution of God’s substance as
father does not provide a good comparison with the injury done to a virgin’s
body through a birth. What is conclusive is that a new complete Being appears beside
the old one without the latter’s having become ‘less’ on that account or having
received anything from outside. One could therefore hardly say, even if the traditional
text were retained, that the virginitas in partu is ‘meant to be
included’ in this passage. Rather is it left aside without discussion, asking a
question that Hilary will not tackle, while, apart from this passage, he has
nowhere even touched on it.
Really, however, in spite of the Maurists’ objection, we must agree with
Lipsius who would delete the ‘non’. Only thus do we get a completely plain and coherent
argument without unnecessary sidelong glances, and the steady and impressive contrasting
of the earthly with the incomprehensible heavenly event is preserved. In
contrast to the ‘speculating’ Arians Hilary will not speak of high and heavenly
things, but contents himself with looking at the miracle of Christ’s earthly
birth. Here, too, it came about that a being—Mary—brought forth from herself a
second Being, although—in contrast to what is ordinarily necessary—nothing came
to her for this from outside; yet she remained while in herself—not uninjured
in the physical sense; and that exactly corresponds to the miracle of the
heavenly birth of the Logos from God, about whom also we are therefore to have
no doubts. If this text and its exposition are correct, therefore, Hilary must
be entirely eliminated as an early western witness or the idea of a virginitas
in partu. (Hans von Campenhausen, The Virgin Birth in the Theology of
the Ancient Church [trans. Frank Clarke; Eugene, Oreg.: Wipf and Stock, 2011;
repr., London: SCM Press, 1954], 73-75 n. 1)
