The Distinction Between “Use” and “Enjoyment” in Augustinian Thought
Contemporary culture rarely gives obedience a fair hearing. People often reduce it to blind submission, diminished freedom, or emotional repression. The Christian tradition, however, speaks of obedience in a far more exacting and humane way. It understands obedience not as the erasure of the self but as the gradual alignment of the self with truth and, therefore, as a path toward real freedom and peace. At the center of this understanding stands a principle that modern assumptions often ignore: obedience presumes discernment.
Christian obedience never operates automatically. It demands attention, judgment, and a free act of consent. A person listens, weighs, and then chooses. Obedience does not consist in passive compliance but in a deliberate response shaped by a sincere search for God’s will. When discernment disappears, obedience degenerates either into convenience or coercion, neither of which belongs to Christian faith.
The tradition embeds this logic in its own language. The word “obedience” comes from the Latin ob-audire, which means “to listen attentively.” Listening comes first. Scripture consistently presents God’s people as hearers before it presents them as doers. God calls them to attend to his voice before he calls them to act.
This structure appears with particular clarity in the Shema of Deuteronomy: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deut 6:4). The command to hear precedes any command to love or obey. Israel learns obedience by learning attention. In the same way, obedience detached from listening loses its Christian character and becomes movement without meaning.
The life of Jesus Christ brings this pattern to its fullest expression, especially in the Garden of Gethsemane. On the night before his crucifixion, Jesus prays, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). He does not rush toward suffering in silence. He names his fear, enters into prayer, and listens. Only then does he freely offer himself to the Father’s will. This obedience saves the world precisely because it remains fully human and fully free.
From here, the Church’s teaching on conscience comes into focus. Conscience does not function as a private preference or a convenient justification. It serves as the interior place where a person listens for God’s voice. To obey God, one must learn to hear him through prayer, Scripture, the sacraments, and the moral teaching of the Church. Discernment therefore plays an essential role. Without it, a person drifts toward two equally destructive errors: doing whatever feels easiest or following commands without reflection. History repeatedly shows that obedience without conscience—whether in political systems or personal moral collapse—never qualifies as a Christian virtue.
The teaching of St. Ignatius of Loyola sharpens this point. Ignatius insisted that freedom does not mean the ability to choose anything whatsoever. It means the ability to choose the good, to choose what draws a person closer to God. Discernment clarifies that choice. Once a person genuinely recognizes God’s will, obedience ceases to feel oppressive. One says yes because one understands whom one trusts.
A common objection still arises. Does the Church not demand obedience even when her teachings prove difficult or countercultural? She does, yet she never asks for obedience without understanding. The Church calls the faithful to form their conscience, not to silence it. She invites deeper thought, not intellectual surrender. As St. Anselm observed, faith seeks understanding. Christians obey not because they have stopped thinking, but because prayerful reflection has revealed Christ’s wisdom in the Church’s teaching.
The conclusion follows naturally. Growth in obedience requires growth in discernment. A disciplined spiritual life cultivates that growth through sustained prayer, immersion in Scripture, frequent confession, reception of the Eucharist, and the guidance of trustworthy spiritual mentors. These practices do not function as optional enhancements. They serve as the ordinary means by which Christians learn to hear clearly.
This pattern finds its simplest and most powerful expression in Mary, who answered the angel, “Let it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). She listened, reflected, and freely consented. Her obedience did not arise from ignorance or pressure. It arose from attentive faith, and it altered the course of history.
Christian obedience, rightly understood, does not aim at control. It aims at conformity to the will of God, which always orders itself toward what is good, loving, and freeing. That conformity, however, cannot occur without listening. Obedience presumes discernment. Christians therefore must learn to listen carefully, think clearly, and respond generously. When they preserve that order, obedience becomes more than duty. It becomes an act of love.