Catholic Tradition: Preserved by “Disobedience” Whether You Like It or Not

Over the years, I have thought a lot about obedience, as I am sure you have, and something about how the topic is considered has always seemed “off” to me. Eventually, I realized that the major issue with how Catholics tend to talk about obedience is that they talk about it in abstract terms rather than concrete terms. Obedience as such is a morally neutral or indifferent abstract concept. For obedience to mean something and be either virtuous or vicious, it must have a concrete human act as its object. The abstract concept of obedience does not exist in reality. One cannot be “obedient” in the sense of living in a general state of obedience. For one to be obedient, one has to obey a particular order or command to concretize the concept of obedience and actuate it as an action in the concrete. And the object of obedience makes the act of obeying either good or bad. One can obey a command, but the obedience itself is not a virtuous or vicious thing; rather, what command is being obeyed and to what end is what makes it virtuous or vicious. Furthermore, circumstances can change whether an actuation of the abstract concept of obedience is good or bad, even when the actions themselves are the same, to the point where there is a qualitative change in what is happening — meaning that the good or bad action becomes a different kind of thing. We can break this down into three parts to help us understand: Mere Tradition with Kennedy Hall is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

1. You obey real actions, not hypothetical ones. When someone tells you to obey, they’re not asking you to obey some vague category of action floating in your head — they’re asking you to do (or not do) one specific thing, right now, in this exact situation. “Don’t kill” isn’t really the command; “don’t kill this person, in these circumstances” is. So when we ask whether obedience was owed, we can’t just ask “was the bare action bad?” We have to ask “was this actual act, with everything surrounding it, bad?” 2. Whether something is right or wrong depends on more than just the action itself. Take walking. Walking, by itself, isn’t good or bad — it’s neutral. But walking to rob someone’s house is bad, and walking to clear your head is fine. Same action, different outcome, because the circumstances — especially why you’re doing it — change everything. Same with giving money to the poor — good in itself, but if you’re only doing it to be seen and praised, it curdles into something selfish. One bad ingredient can spoil the whole thing, even if the core action was fine on its own. 3. Sometimes the “circumstance” isn’t just a detail — it becomes the whole point. Usually we think of circumstances as minor add-ons: where, when, small details around the main action. But sometimes a circumstance is so significant that it actually changes what the action is, not just how good or bad it is. Stealing is bad. But stealing from a church isn’t just “extra bad theft” — it’s a different kind of offence (sacrilege), because the location isn’t incidental; it’s central to what makes the act wrong. In cases like that, the “detail” stops being a detail and becomes part of the core action itself. Saint Thomas Aquinas explains this third concept in detail: “The process of reason is not limited to a single term; from any point, it can always go further. This is why what, in an act, is considered as a circumstance added to the object which determines the species of the act can then be considered by reason, when it orders, as a principal condition of the object which determines that species.” “Thus, appropriating another’s property derives its nature from the fact that this property belongs to another: this is what constitutes the nature of theft. If we then consider place or time, these are merely circumstances. But since reason can also order according to place, time, and other similar conditions, it can happ