🧭Duty as Covenant: Moving Beyond Blind Obedience to Faithful Participation
Photo by Petty Officer 1st Class Sarah Thielen, United States Naval Academy
On January 6, 2021, I watched as some who claimed to be acting out of patriotic duty stormed the Capitol. Many invoked God's name, claiming a divine mandate for their actions. Meanwhile, police officers like Eugene Goodman fulfilled their duty in a profoundly different way—protecting those who might well have voted differently than he did, embodying his oath through participation in something greater than himself.
These contrasting visions illuminate a distinction I've wrestled with since my days at the Naval Academy: duty as blind obedience to authority versus duty as covenant participation. This distinction matters deeply in our current moment, where appeals to duty often mask mere compliance with partisan demands or abdication of moral responsibility.
This week's exploration of duty connects directly to my sermon on Mark 12:13-17, where Jesus challenges simplistic understandings of duty to Caesar by placing them within the larger context of duty to God—transforming our understanding of obligation from mechanical compliance to participatory relationship.
The Distortion of Duty
"I was just following orders." This notorious justification echoes through history, from Nuremberg to Mai Lai to Abu Ghraib. Yet it persists as a temptation—the reduction of duty to mere obedience, the comfortable surrender of moral agency to authority figures.
In Baton Rouge, where I grew up, this distorted duty continues to manifest in how families of long-standing power and influence carry forward the effects of the "water fountain liturgy" of segregation decades after civil rights legislation rendered the immoral also illegal. Though the formal structures have changed, many Christians who know better—still construct their lives around systems of separation and inequality while defending them as "just the way things are" and rejecting any suggestion that these patterns perpetuate racial injustice. The same distortion appears today when officials refuse to certify election results despite legal obligation, when religious leaders rationalize immoral behavior from political allies, and when followers embrace disinformation because it comes from trusted sources.
This distorted duty represents what Sam Wells calls "working for" rather than "being with"—doing things to others or for others without genuine participation in covenant relationships. It creates what Douglas Campbell identifies as a contractual understanding of obligation rather than participatory engagement in a shared life.
KEY INSIGHT: Actual duty cannot exist without moral discernment. This is why the Uniform Code of Military Justice—which I swore to uphold as a naval officer—explicitly requires military personnel to obey only lawful orders. Even in contexts we associate with strict hierarchy, duty is never blind obedience but covenant participation guided by higher principles.
Duty as Covenant Participation
The Hebrew word often translated as "duty" carries connotations not of blind obedience but of sacred trust. The mitzvot in Jewish tradition aren't arbitrary commands but the terms of covenant relationship—how God's people participate in their identity as partners in God's redemptive work.
This understanding transforms duty from burden to privilege, from external imposition to invitation into a relationship. Consider Abraham's response to God's call. His obedience wasn't mechanical compliance but relational trust, entering a covenant whose full implications he couldn't possibly comprehend. His duty emerged through participation, not mere submission.
Jesus extended this participatory understanding by telling his disciples, "I no longer call you servants... Instead, I have called you friends." The relationship had matured from master-servant to friendship—not eliminating duty but transforming it into mutual participation in a shared purpose.
My own experience as a naval officer illuminates this distinction. On Commissioning Day, I swore an oath not to a person but to the Constitution—not to mindlessly follow orders but to "support and defend" principles that transcend any individual. This oath remains binding precisely because it represents a covenant commitment to participate in values more significant than self-interest or partisan advantage.
The Three Dimensions of Participatory Duty
Actual duty operates in three dimensions that require our constant participation:
First, duty to truth. Without the commitment to reality as it is, not as we wish it to be, duty becomes dangerously untethered. This is why bearing false witness violates not just the ninth commandment but undermines the possibility of a covenant community. We abandon authentic participation in the covenant when we embrace convenient falsehoods because they serve our preferred narrative.
My journey from understanding freedom as non-interference to seeing it as participation in communities without domination required painful engagement with truths about my family's history in Louisiana. Walking the grounds where my ancestors owned other human beings forced me to reckon with my participation in systems of privilege from which I hadn't chosen but benefited. This duty to truth precedes all other duties because we cannot know what genuine participation requires without it.
Second, duty to others. The covenant community extends beyond our immediate circle, including those easily overlooked. The Torah repeatedly emphasizes duty to "the widow, the orphan, and the stranger"—those without social power. Jesus extended this further, commanding love even for enemies.
This is what Sam Wells means by being with rather than merely "working for"—entering into genuine solidarity that transforms both parties. When duty becomes exclusive—concerned only with obligations to our own tribe, nation, or ideological allies—it ceases to be genuine participation and becomes mere group loyalty. True duty recognizes the image of God in every person, creating obligations that transcend political divides.
Third, duty to principles. Authentic duty requires participation in values that transcend immediate circumstances or advantages. For Christians, these principles emerge from the character of God revealed in Christ—self-giving love without domination, preferential concern for the vulnerable, and reconciliation across dividing walls of hostility.
These principles provide the necessary corrective when authorities demand actions contrary to God's character. As Peter and John declared when ordered to stop preaching, "We must obey God rather than human beings." Their duty to divine principles transcended even legitimate religious authority. This wasn't mere disobedience but deeper participation in God's purposes.
Duty in Military Context
My Naval Academy experience provides insight into duty that is adequately understood. On Commissioning Day, the President declared classmates and I "officers and gentlemen" (including ladies), recognizing that military effectiveness depends not on blind obedience but on moral integrity guided by participation in higher principles.
Military history celebrates not those who mechanically followed orders but those whose commitment to more profound principles led them sometimes to disobey immoral commands. Hugh Thompson Jr., who intervened during the My Lai massacre by landing his helicopter between American soldiers and Vietnamese civilians, exemplifies this participatory understanding of duty. His actions weren't mere rebellion but deeper fidelity to the constitutional principles he had sworn to uphold.
The military oath's commitment to "support and defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic," creates space for moral discernment. When I took that oath, I wasn't surrendering moral agency but committing to participate in principles that would guide my exercise of it.
This understanding of duty as participation rather than mere compliance provides a crucial counterbalance to the demands of hierarchical institutions. It reminds us that our primary covenant remains with the principles that justify those structures' existence even within necessary command structures.
Practicing Participatory Duty in an Authoritarian Age
How do we reclaim authentic duty in an age of increasing Authoritarian Spirituality? Four practices of participation seem essential:
First, cultivate contemplative participation. Duty requires space between stimulus and response, between command and action. Regular practices of silence, prayer, and collective discernment create room for genuine participation rather than mere reaction. The Jesuit practice of Examen offers a model for examining our actions against deeper commitments—not as individuals but as participants in the community.
At one of my parishes during an earlier phase of our current divisions, we created "Contemplative Communion" gatherings where veterans, activists, conservatives, and progressives practiced silent presence together before engaging political differences. This shared contemplative space forms the foundation for duty that transcends partisan reaction.
Second, commit to covenantal communities. Authentic duty flourishes in communities bound by mutual commitment rather than hierarchical control. Whether faith communities, civic organizations, or friendship networks, these spaces allow us to practice the give-and-take of covenant relationships.
After my naval service and business career, I discovered that parish life provided a different but equally profound context for practicing duty. The shared participation in liturgy, service, and mutual care created obligations not through command but through relationships. These communities of practice form us in habits of fidelity that transcend blind obedience and radical autonomy.
Third, clarify participatory loyalties. Jesus warned that we cannot serve two masters. When political loyalty trumps commitment to truth or concern for the vulnerable, we've fallen into idolatry. Regular examination of where our most profound participation lies helps prevent this distortion.
This clarity becomes increasingly crucial as political movements demand exclusive loyalty. The question isn't simply "What are my duties?" but "In what am I truly participating when I fulfill these duties?" Does my action participate in domination or liberation? Does it enable mutual recognition or reinforce hierarchies of value?
Fourth, embrace the cost of authentic participation. Covenant faithfulness often carries a price—the loss of status, security, or belonging. Jesus didn't promise his followers comfort but a cross. Authentic duty requires a willingness to bear this cost rather than compromising more profound principles for temporary advantage.
I've watched colleagues in military, business, and church contexts pay significant prices for choosing participatory duty over blind obedience—losing promotions, enduring criticism, and even sacrificing careers. Yet, in each case, their witness revealed that freedom emerges from embracing obligation and participating in covenant communities guided by transcendent principles.
From Participatory Duty to Integrated Honor
Actual duty leads naturally to honor—the integrity that flows from faithful covenant participation. As we reclaim duty as a sacred trust rather than blind obedience, we rediscover what the Psalmist meant when he wrote, "I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart."
The alternative to authoritarian demands isn't autonomous individualism but covenant participation—relationships bound by mutual obligation guided by transcendent principles. This understanding of duty offers a powerful counter-witness to both the blind obedience demanded by Binary Apocalypticism and the radical autonomy promised by secular liberalism.
As we face increasing pressure to surrender moral agency to authority figures—political, religious, or cultural—the recovery of duty as covenant participation becomes not just personally important but politically essential. Our republic depends not on citizens who unthinkingly follow but on those who understand their higher participation in truth, in others, and in principles that transcend partisan advantage.
This isn't duty as a burden but as a blessing—the privilege of participating in a covenant relationship that transforms not just individuals but communities and nations. As we explore the virtue of honor in our following essay, we'll see how this understanding of duty creates the foundation for integrity in both personal character and public life.
Key Terms
Being With: Incarnational presence rather than doing things "for" others or "to" others. Full entry →(Coming soon)
Authoritarian Spirituality: Replacement of communal discernment with charismatic leadership. Full entry →(Coming soon)
Binary Apocalypticism: Creation of rigid good/evil, friend/enemy distinctions. Full entry →
Participatory Freedom: Freedom as capacity for love rather than absence of constraint. Full entry →(Coming soon)
Notes
[1] Eugene Goodman is the Capitol Police officer who led rioters away from the Senate chamber during the January 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol.
[2] Samuel Wells, "Being With," in A Nazareth Manifesto: Being with God (Wiley-Blackwell, 2015), 79-102.
[3] Douglas Campbell, The Deliverance of God: An Apocalyptic Rereading of Justification in Paul (Eerdmans, 2009).
[4] The quote from Jesus is from John 15:15.