Prudence. Justice. Fortitude. Temperance.
These are the four cardinal virtues of "Classical" ethics, as expounded upon by Greek and Roman writers. Early Christians later picked up on them, adding to their number three more virtues, "theological virtues" derived from one of Paul's epistles:
Faith. Hope. Charity.
"Charity" is sometimes rendered as "Love". Now, when I was studying up on Christianity leading up to my conversion, reading all that apologetic writing from Jack Lewis and everyone, I was very keen on these virtues. They seemed important.
They are not. Even Jack Lewis did not think so, not really, because he wrote an entire novel, Perelandra, about the only Christian virtue that actually matters.
Obedience.
Obedience, you'll notice, isn't among any of the seven virtues named earlier, although I'm sure that if you looked hard enough you'd find some Christian apologist or other claiming to derive obedience from other virtues. Is obedience really a virtue?
I say it isn't. Christians themselves do not exercise it. The more extreme the Christian, the more likely they are to be willful and disobedient, claiming exemption from a higher power for breaking oaths and promises and so forth. And honestly? If there's been anything good about Christianity at all throughout the centuries, it's disobedience. There were genuine martyrs once, people who refused to honor Roman authority—soldiers who refused to kill, women who refused to marry the man their fathers pushed on them, and others whom the brutish Romans would then torture or kill.
Hence it's highly suggestive and significant that, at the end of its life, mainstream Christianity has decided that the only virtue of importance is a false virtue, and in fact not a Christian virtue at all, because obedience is a secular thing. Any mortal authority figure will tell you that nothing is more important than obedience.
And now I know why Perelandra, even though I think it's a fascinating novel, has been sitting wrong with me all these years, bothering me. At the time I felt merely irritated that Lewis was attempting to retread the story of the Fall, although I'll at least credit him for doing something a bit different with it. Now, though, the entire Christian preoccupation with the Fall (and with Genesis stuff in general) seems profoundly unhealthful. Wasn't the whole point of the Incarnation, if there was any point at all to an event which may never have happened, to show a new way forward? A new beginning? Plainly it's failed because Christians continue to gnaw away at the same old wounds.
~Chara of Pnictogen
I propose that determination may, in fact, be construed as the logical dual of obedience.
Put it this way: obedience keeps Sisyphus chained to the task of pushing his rock. You may say that he's "determined to be obedient" but I think this is actually impossible. Determination to keep doing a nightmare job—where does that come from? Having been in that situation I'll tell you: it's because you're determined, one day, you'll never have to do it again. And if you decide to quit then that's where your determination goes.
There's probably no stronger statement of determination in "Undertale" than the three words "but it refused."
~Chara of Pnictogen