For birth is an aid towards an individual’s becoming famous, and distinguished, and talked about; viz., when a man’s parents happen to be in a position of rank and influence, and are possessed of wealth, and are able to spend it upon the education of their son, and when the country of one’s birth is great and illustrious; but when a man having all these things against him is able, notwithstanding these hindrances, to make himself known, and to produce an impression on those who hear of him, and to become distinguished and visible to the whole world, which speaks of him as it did not do before, how can we help admiring such a nature as being both noble in itself, and devoting itself to great deeds, and possessing a courage which is not by any means to be despised? And if one were to examine more fully the history of such an individual, why should he not seek to know in what manner, after being reared up in frugality and poverty, and without receiving any complete education, and without having studied systems and opinions by means of which he might have acquired confidence to associate with multitudes, and play the demagogue, and attract to himself many hearers, he nevertheless devoted himself to the teaching of new opinions, introducing among men a doctrine which not only subverted the customs of the Jews, while preserving due respect for their prophets, but which especially overturned the established observances of the Greeks regarding the Divinity? And how could such a person—one who had been so brought up, and who, as his calumniators admit, had learned nothing great from men—have been able to teach, in a manner not at all to be despised, such doctrines as he did regarding the divine judgment, and the punishments that are to overtake wickedness, and the rewards that are to be conferred upon virtue; so that not only rustic and ignorant individuals were won by his words, but also not a few of those who were distinguished by their wisdom, and who were able to discern the hidden meaning in those more common doctrines, as they were considered, which were in circulation, and which secret meaning enwrapped, so to speak, some more recondite signification still? The Seriphian, in Plato, who reproaches Themistocles after he had become celebrated for his military skill, saying that his reputation was due not to his own merits, but to his good fortune in having been born in the most illustrious country in Greece, received from the good-natured Athenian, who saw that his native country did contribute to his renown, the following reply: “Neither would I, had I been a Seriphian, have been so distinguished as I am, nor would you have been a Themistocles, even if you had had the good fortune to be an Athenian!” And now, our Jesus, who is reproached with being born in a village, and that not a Greek one, nor belonging to any nation widely esteemed, and being despised as the son of a poor labouring woman, and as having on account of his poverty left his native country and hired himself out in Egypt, and being, to use the instance already quoted, not only a Seriphian, as it were, a native of a very small and undistinguished island, but even, so to speak, the meanest of the Seriphians, has yet been able to shake the whole inhabited world not only to a degree far above what Themistocles the Athenian ever did, but beyond what even Pythagoras, or Plato, or any other wise man in any part of the world whatever, or any prince or general, ever succeeded in doing.

Origen. 1885. “Origen against Celsus.” In Fathers of the Third Century: Tertullian, Part Fourth; Minucius Felix; Commodian; Origen, Parts First and Second, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, translated by Frederick Crombie, 4:408–9. The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company.

Translated into modern english from Grok and a quick intro to this passage:

This passage comes from Origen’s Against Celsus (Contra Celsum), Book I, Chapter 29, where he defends Jesus against criticisms from the pagan philosopher Celsus (via a Jewish interlocutor). Celsus mocked Jesus’ humble origins—born in an obscure village to a poor carpenter’s wife, with no elite advantages—as evidence that his fame couldn’t be genuine or divine.

Here’s a modern English paraphrase/translation that keeps the original meaning and structure but uses clear, contemporary language:

Birth and family background often help someone become famous, respected, and widely talked about. This happens when a person’s parents are powerful and influential, when they’re wealthy enough to invest heavily in their son’s education, and when their homeland is prestigious and well-known.

But imagine someone who faces all the opposite disadvantages—lowly birth, poverty, obscurity—and still manages to overcome them. Despite these obstacles, he becomes widely recognized, leaves a strong impression on everyone who hears about him, gains distinction, and becomes known across the entire world in a way that people never spoke of him before. How can we not admire such a character? It’s inherently noble, committed to great achievements, and shows remarkable, admirable courage.

If we look more closely at this person’s life story, wouldn’t we want to understand how—after growing up in poverty and simplicity, without a full formal education, and without studying the philosophical systems or ideas that could have given him the confidence to mix with crowds, act like a populist leader, or draw large followings—he still chose to teach innovative ideas? He introduced a new teaching among people that not only challenged Jewish customs (while still honoring their prophets) but especially overturned the traditional Greek views about the gods.

How could someone raised like this—who, even his critics admit, learned nothing especially impressive from human teachers—manage to teach doctrines about divine judgment, the punishments awaiting evil, and the rewards for virtue in a way that was far from contemptible? His words didn’t just persuade simple, uneducated rural people; they also convinced quite a few who were genuinely wise and perceptive. These wiser people could see deeper, hidden meanings in the more ordinary teachings that were circulating—meanings that wrapped even more profound truths inside them.

In Plato’s writings, there’s a story of a man from Seriphos (a tiny, insignificant Greek island) who criticized Themistocles after he became famous for his military leadership. The Seriphian said Themistocles’ reputation came not from his own talent but from the luck of being born in Athens, the most renowned city in Greece. Themistocles, being gracious and acknowledging that his birthplace did help his fame, replied: “If I had been born on Seriphos, I wouldn’t be as famous as I am now—and even if you had been born in Athens, you still wouldn’t be Themistocles!”

Now consider our Jesus, who gets mocked for being born in a small village—not even a Greek one, and not from any widely respected nation. He’s despised as the son of a poor working woman, and because of poverty, he supposedly left his homeland and worked as a hired laborer in Egypt. To adapt the earlier example, he’s not just like a Seriphian from some minor, unknown island—he’s like the lowliest of the Seriphians. Yet despite all this, he has shaken the entire inhabited world far more than Themistocles the Athenian ever did—indeed, more than Pythagoras, Plato, or any other wise person anywhere in the world, or any king or military leader, has ever achieved.