Celebration of Discipline, Special Anniversary Edition

Dedication

To Carolynn

wife, counselor, companion, encourager

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Foreword to the Special Anniversary Edition

Preface to the Special Anniversary Edition: A Beginning Word

Introduction to the 20th Anniversary Edition

1: The Spiritual Disciplines: Door to Liberation

Part I: The Inward Disciplines

2: Meditation

3: Prayer

4: Fasting

5: Study

Part II: The Outward Disciplines

6: Simplicity

7: Solitude

8: Submission

9: Service

Part III: The Corporate Disciplines

10: Confession

11: Worship

12: Guidance

13: Celebration

Acknowledgments

The Great Conversation: An Annotated Bibliography

In Celebration of Celebration of Discipline

Notes

Scripture Index

Subject Index

About the Author

Also by Richard J. Foster

Copyright

About the Publisher

Foreword to the Special Anniversary Edition

If you are anything like me, you genuinely long for abilities that are beyond yourself in order to face the demands of everyday life patiently and wisely. You—I—we—would love to have the inner resources to replace deep, destructive habits of thought with even deeper, life-giving habits of mind and heart and spirit. In our best moments (we do have other moments), we seek the ability to overcome guile and manipulation. We genuinely want to be free of all anger and bitterness and strife. We desire to possess the unadulterated goodness that will enable us to defeat evil whenever and wherever it appears. We long for the deep character formation that can free us from all boasting and arrogance, all narcissism and conceit.

We seek fulfillment in serving others. We yearn for the inner courage to forgive others, even our enemies—especially our enemies. We long for a spirit of repentance and the strength to live a transformed life. We hunger for an ongoing, life-giving, interactive relationship with Jesus. We want to be characterized through and through with the joy of the Lord. And we seek after all of these things not as some outward show but as the deep transformation of the inner person.

If in some measure these longings reflect the hopes and dreams and aspirations of your heart, then I have wonderful news for you. Throughout the ages, Christians of all races and ethnicities from all geographic locations and economic backgrounds have witnessed that the classical Disciplines of the spiritual life can produce deep within us exactly this kind of life. The Spiritual Disciplines are the means of God’s grace for bringing about genuine personality formation characterized through and through by love and joy and peace and patience and kindness and goodness and faithfulness and gentleness and self-control (Gal. 5:22–23).

Now, we might want to sit for a moment with the thought that we have this unique capacity for moral development. I mean substantial character formation and transformation. Think of it. God could have created the human species into granite boulders or red radishes—merely minerals and vegetables. But instead God has given us the capacity for developing moral character, the ability to become glorious beings that can live in communion with the Triune Reality of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for eternity.

This is a great risk on God’s part. The moral development of personality is possible only in a world of genuine freedom. And for us to have the freedom to grow in moral character also means we have the freedom to choose moral evil . . . at times horrendous moral evil. So, for us to develop and grow in moral character is God’s great project for human beings. This is the gamble God has made with the human enterprise. And what God gets out of this gamble is the kind of person we become.

So, how does the moral transformation of mind and heart and soul occur? What are God’s ways for this to happen in your life and in my life?

The Spiritual Disciplines are God’s means of grace by which we are enabled to bring our little, individualized power pack we call the human body and place it before God as a living sacrifice, as the wise apostle Paul put it (Rom. 12:1). Having done this, the Disciplines have reached the end of their tether. God then steps into our small offering and produces in us graces and virtues we could hardly imagine. Again, the Spiritual Disciplines are the means God uses to build in us an inner person that is characterized by peace and joy and freedom.

It is critical for us to understand that the Spiritual Disciplines possess no moral rectitude or righteousness in and of themselves. They are, most definitely, not works righteousness, as it is sometimes said. They place us—body, mind, and spirit—before God. That is all. The results of this process are all of God, all of grace.

Now, the opposite of grace is works. Works has to do with earning, and there simply is nothing we can ever do to earn God’s approval. Or God’s love.

Again, the opposite of grace is works—but not effort. As Jesus taught us, we are to strive to enter by the narrow gate (Matt. 7:13). We do indeed engage in practices—disciplines, if you will—but remember these practices earn us nothing in the economy of God. Nothing. Their only purpose is to place us before God. That is all. (And even these actions are themselves inspired by the prevenient grace of God.) God then steps into our actions and, over time and experience, produces in us the formation of heart and mind and soul for which we long. Again, the results are all of grace.

This is why the apostle Peter in his small epistle could urge us to grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (2 Pet. 3:18). You see, our normal way of thinking about grace is as unmerited favor. And, to be sure, grace is most certainly unmerited favor—but it is so much more than this! Simply put, we are not able to grow in unmerited favor. Now, with the Spiritual Disciplines, the form that God’s grace takes is interactive relationship. God invites us into a variety of Spiritual Disciplines, and we step into them as best we can. These actions place us before God as a living sacrifice. God, in turn, uses our actions to build within us deeply ingrained habit patterns of righteous and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit (Rom. 14:17). Back and forth, back and forth, in interactive relationship so that, through time and experience, we are learning to grow in grace.

Once more, the Spiritual Disciplines are the means God uses for producing in us the needed transformation of heart and mind and soul.

Remember, God is working, always working, to form us and conform us and transform us into the image of Christ. God is intent upon this forming, conforming, transforming process. And God invites us to participate in this process by means of interactive relationship.

Now, this deep character formation in the subterranean chambers of our hearts does not occur overnight. This is no quick fix. It is crucial here for us to respect the slow work of God upon the soul. Slowly, ever so slowly, over days and weeks and months and years, the soul is being carefully formed and conformed and transformed. Throughout this holy work we are learning patience, stillness, perseverance, time-fullness.

Of course, throughout this liberating process we are carrying on the daily tasks of home and work. Indeed, these places comprise the central arena where the work of formation occurs.

Now, I do not have any exhaustive list of the Spiritual Disciplines. As far as I know, none exists. All we are learning to do is undertake practices of heart and mind and soul that place us before God. Some practices may be formal and intently liturgical. Others may be spontaneous and free flowing. The actual practices of the Disciplines are as varied and as creative as human personality itself.

But, and here is the key, the Spiritual Disciplines are actions of body and heart and mind and soul that we actually do. Not just admire. Not just study. Not just debate. But practice.

As I said, our practices can have enormous variety. One thing, however, will always be central to our exercise of the Spiritual Disciplines—Holy Scripture. Reading Scripture. Studying Scripture. Meditating upon Scripture. Memorizing Scripture.

If we truly desire to be like Jesus, then we will want to take up the overall way of life Jesus himself lived when he was among us in the flesh. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John give us this picture in vibrant, living Reality! We learn from the Gospels that Jesus undertook Spiritual Disciplines as a fixed pattern of his life. So should we. And, as we give attention to the whole trajectory of Scripture, we quickly discover that all the great ones in the Bible exercised a large variety of Spiritual Disciplines themselves. Surely this is an incentive for us to follow the lead of our leaders.

Two distinct movements mark the Spiritual Disciplines: the via negativa and the via positiva. The via negativa focuses on ascetical Disciplines like meditation, fasting, simplicity, solitude, submission, and confession. These teach us life-giving ways of self-denial and letting go. The via positiva focuses on incarnational Disciplines like prayer, study, service, worship, guidance, and celebration. These teach us life-giving ways of growth and affirmation. Together these two movements are aimed at freeing us from soul-crushing patterns of death and creating joy-filled patterns of life. Take, for example, the Discipline of fasting, which focuses on disciplining our desires (the via negativa) and so creating deep within us a spirit that is strong and sweet when we don’t get what we want (the via positiva).

One more thing: this way of living is not confined to people in religious orders or those who have special skills in spiritual matters. No, this life is also for ordinary people. People who work in the high-pressure jobs of information technology and finance. People who are constantly dealing with the stresses of raising children and balancing the family budget. People who teach school and work in hospitals and provide social services and so much more. In short, people just like you and me.

Now, this interior focus on the growth of the soul does have its detractors. After all, a thousand tragedies cry out for our responses. Sorrows abound. Human agonies multiply. So those on the outside can easily see time and attention to the Spiritual Disciplines and the life they produce as pious selfishness. Their concern is that by focusing on inward matters, we will neglect outward needs.

Such concern, however, fails to understand the full thrust of the Spiritual Disciplines themselves. Deeply embedded in their exercise is the impulse toward what the old writers called social righteousness. You see, white-hot love of God of necessity drives us into compassionate love of neighbor. We only need to consider a person like Mother Teresa of Calcutta to see how love of God drives us to love of neighbor. In her context, this meant devoting her life to the poorest of the poor. For us, we cannot predict beyond the firm conviction that any genuine immersion in the Spiritual Disciplines will lead us to our neighbor, the person who is near to us. True godliness does not turn us away from hurting, bleeding humanity. Rather it enables us to live fully alive in the midst of human need and enlivens our abilities to bring a healing presence to the bruised and broken around us.

I’m sure you understand that these efforts are best done in the context of community life. These are not solo efforts. We need each other. We depend upon each other. We learn together. We suffer together. We weep together. We pray together. We laugh together.

Richard J. Foster

Preface to the Special Anniversary Edition: A Beginning Word

Forty years ago there was an abysmal ignorance of how we grow in grace, entering into ever fuller and deeper Christlikeness. I penned Celebration of Discipline in response to this crying need.

The response was a genuine surprise. And overwhelming. The hunger for real, transforming power was greater that I ever could have imagined. Once people realized that progress in character formation is actually possible, they were seized with genuine hope and encouragement. Stories poured in; heartrending stories, hope-filled stories, stories of love and faith and fierce struggle.

Not everything was rosy. Many, many dear people, catching this vision of a with-God kind of life, felt isolated and orphaned even in quite good churches. Others lacked substantive teaching that could take them deeper. And the culture in general was so captivated by fads that it undermined the staying power of many . . . folks were quickly on to the next best thing.

Still, today, some forty years later, we can thank God for steps forward. Many no longer find spiritual discipline to be negative and off-putting. Vast numbers of ordinary folk have taken into their own lives Disciplines of the spiritual life that reflect the overall life of Jesus himself. And, they have indeed discovered these Spiritual Disciplines to be the means of God’s grace for the formation and transformation of heart and mind and spirit and body and soul. They have actually made progress forward in the spiritual life. What a wonder! What a grace! I thank God.

Now, let’s consider together whether Celebration of Discipline is relevant to our cultural context today. So much has changed in the last four decades. Perhaps most important is the explosion of information technologies in our day. Back when I wrote Celebration, the internet was barely on the horizon and certainly still in the future for the average person. Cookies were for eating. Having a virus meant we were sick. Hackers were unheard of. But now, with the invention of the microchip, we have personal computers we can hold in our hands or strap to our wrists. Emailing, texting, tweeting, and much more have transformed modern communications.

Indeed, the explosion of information technologies that we are now experiencing is not unlike the explosion of information and the rapid dissemination of ideas produced by Gutenberg and his movable type in the fifteenth century. Today, however, the changes seem to be crashing in on us with lightning speed.

Nevertheless, and this is the crucial point, nothing in these amazing technologies touches the substance of the human personality. Our moral deficiencies are as glaring as ever . . . perhaps even more so, as a consuming pride grows stronger with every advance we make. Deep inside we still long for freedom from anger and bitterness and hostility. None of our gadgets are able to overcome the deep, destructive habit structures that reside in our souls. No technology is able to produce the character transformation we so desperately need. The gnawing hunger for the spiritual realities of love and joy and peace remains.

Our world, you see, has not changed all that much. The message of Celebration of Discipline is as relevant as ever. The needs are as great as ever. Divine resources are as available as ever.

There is one major difference that has occurred in the past forty years that does indeed impinge upon the spiritual life. I can state it in one word: distraction. Distraction is the primary spiritual problem in contemporary culture. Frankly, when we are perpetually distracted, we are unable to discern the Kol Yahweh, the voice of the Lord.

Oh, for the day when all we had to do was turn off the television if we wanted solitude and silence! Now, we click through an endless stream of internet links, write daily blogs, read tweets from God knows who, check our emails constantly, text family and others, and mindlessly scroll through Facebook.

Even more insidious are the ways we are bombarded by the broad distractions of constant noise, constant demands, constant news. Everyone, it seems, wants us to be accessible 24/7 and to respond instantly to any and every request. If we delay answering an email for even an hour or two people are worried that something is wrong with us. Neuroscience studies are now showing us that the neural pathways of our brains are being rewired accordingly, so that our physical capacity for sustained attention is decreasing.

We, of course, complain endlessly about our wired world. But—let’s be honest—we do enjoy our technological gluttony.

There is, however, a better way to live. For all who are longing for a new start, allow me to provide you with a spiritual exercise (the Spiritual Disciplines can come in many forms) that can begin to free you from the crippling grip of multiple distractions. It comes in a little three-part rhythm:

Day One: For thirty minutes, turn off all technology . . . your smartphone does have an off button. Make a good strong cup of coffee or tea. Find a good place to sit. Begin by speaking aloud these words of the Psalmist: Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! (139:23–24). Then, be still. No writing. No talking. Nothing. The objective here is to clear away all creaturely activity, to use a phrase from the old writers.

Day Two: Again, for thirty minutes, become free of all technology. Today, take a walk, allowing your footsteps to fall into the rhythm of your whispering of the Jesus Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Day Three: Again, all technology is off for thirty minutes. A good cup of coffee or tea and a comfortable chair are in order. Begin with the simple prayer I composed for coffee time: O Spirit of God, blow across my little life and let me drink in your great Life. Amen. Next, ever so slowly, pray the words of the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9–13). With each phrase of the prayer add your own thoughts or concerns a little like you are decorating a Christmas tree with your own ornaments. See if your extended prayerful meditation will bring you to the end of the Lord’s Prayer at about the thirty-minute mark.

Days Four, Five, and Six: Repeat the same rhythm of days one, two, and three.

Day Seven: Use your technology to your heart’s content.

Follow this three-part rhythm for several months, maybe a year. After some practice, you may want to extend your time to one hour rather than thirty minutes. Then, when you feel you are ready, you can take the next step: a twenty-four-hour retreat with no technology whatever. No radio. No smartphone. No laptop. No iPad. No MP3 player. Take a print Bible for reading and a pen and pad for writing—no more than that. See what happens. Who knows, you just may be enabled to listen to God’s speech in his wondrous, terrible, gentle, loving, all-embracing silence, to use the moving words of Catherine de Hueck Doherty. I recommend that you consider using this twenty-four-hour retreat pattern four times a year: winter, spring, summer, and fall.

These, of course, are beginning steps. You can add to them and extend them and modify them as your desires and needs call for it. Be encouraged by the teaching of Thomas Aquinas that habit overcomes habit. And remember that Jesus Christ, your living Teacher, will guide you.

What I have written here, as you can tell, is provided specifically for the fortieth anniversary of Celebration of Discipline. I rather imagine it will pass with the next edition. However, the foreword that is to follow will, I hope, become an evergreen piece in the Celebration canon.

Introduction to the 20th Anniversary Edition

It is a wonder to me how God uses squiggles on paper to do his work in the hearts and minds of people. How are these squiggles transformed into letters and words and sentences and, finally, meaning? Oh, we may congratulate ourselves on knowing a little about the function of neurotransmitters in the brain or about how endorphin proteins affect learning and memory retention, but if we are honest, we know that thinking itself is a mystery. Doxology is the only appropriate response.

At this writing, it has been two decades since this particular set of squiggles, Celebration of Discipline, was first published. After the first decade, the publisher, no doubt puzzled by its longevity and popularity, wanted to celebrate this milestone, and asked me to revise the original text—which I was glad to do. And now, after a second decade, the puzzle continues. Somehow (who can ever explain how?) people continue to find help in their daily walk with God through the pages of this book. To celebrate this twentieth anniversary, the publisher has asked me to write an introduction, and, again, I am glad to comply. And perhaps in fulfilling their request it is appropriate to tell how the book you hold in your hands came into being.

Spiritual Bankruptcy

Fresh out of seminary, I was ready to conquer the world. My first appointment was a small church in a thriving region of Southern California. Here, I mused, is my chance to show the denominational leadership, nay, the whole world, what I can do. Believe me, visions of far more than sugar plums were dancing in my head. I was sobered a bit when the former pastor, upon learning of my appointment, put his arm on my shoulder and said, Well, Foster, it’s your turn to be in the desert! But the sobering lasted only a moment. This church will become a shining light set on a hill. The people will literally flood in. This I thought, and this I believed.

After three months or so I had given that tiny congregation everything I knew, and then some, and it had done them no good. I had nothing left to give. I was spiritually bankrupt and I knew it. So much for a shining light on a hill.

My problem was more than having something to say from Sunday to Sunday. My problem was that what I did say had no power to help people. I had no substance, no depth. The people were starving for a word from God, and I had nothing to give them. Nothing.

Three Converging Influences

In the wisdom of God, however, three influences were converging in that little church that would change the direction of my ministry, indeed, of my whole life. Together they would provide the depth and the substance I needed personally and the depth and the substance that, in time, would lead to the penning of Celebration. But that is running ahead of my story.

The first thing to happen was precipitated by an influx of genuinely needy people into our small congregation. They simply flowed in like streams after a thunderstorm. Oh, how they hungered for spiritual substance and, oh, how willing they were to do almost anything to find it. These were the castoffs of today’s fast-track culture—the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on—and so their neediness was quite obvious. Just as obvious was my inability to give them substantive pastoral care.

This lack of any real spiritual density led me, almost instinctively, to the Devotional Masters of the Christian faith—Augustine of Hippo and Francis of Assisi and Julian of Norwich and so many others. Somehow I sensed that these ancient writers lived and breathed the spiritual substance these new friends in our little fellowship were seeking so desperately.

To be sure, I had encountered many of these writers in academic settings. But that was a detached, cerebral kind of reading. Now I read with different eyes, for daily I was working with heartbreaking, soul-crushing, gut-wrenching human need. These saints, as we sometimes call them, knew God in a way that I clearly did not. They experienced Jesus as the defining reality of their lives. They possessed a flaming vision of God that blinded them to all competing loyalties. They experienced life built on the Rock.

It hardly mattered who I read in those days—Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God, Teresa of Ávila’s Interior Castle, John Woolman’s Journal, A. W. Tozer’s The Knowledge of the Holy—they knew God in ways far beyond anything I had ever experienced. Or even wanted to experience! But as I continued to soak in the stories of these women and men who were aflame with the fire of divine love, I began desiring this kind of life for myself. And desiring led to seeking and seeking led to finding. And what I found settled me, deepened me, thickened me.

The second influence came from an individual in that tiny congregation, Dr. Dallas Willard. A philosopher by profession, Dallas was well versed in the classics, and, at the same time, had an uncanny perception into the contemporary scene. He taught our fledgling little group: studies in Romans and Acts and the Sermon on the Mount and the Spiritual Disciplines and more. But regardless of the specific topic, he constantly drew us into the big picture. It was life-based teaching that always respected the classical sources and always sought to give them contemporary expression. Those teachings gave me the Weltanschauung, the worldview, upon which I could synthesize all my academic and biblical training.

But it wasn’t just the teaching, or at least it wasn’t teaching as we usually think of teaching. It was a heart-to-heart communication that went on between this world-class philosopher and that little ragtag band of Christ’s disciples. Dallas taught us right in the midst of our struggles, our hurts, our fears. He had descended with the mind into the heart and taught out of that deep center.

Today, many years later, I still revel in the impact of those teaching/living/praying sessions. It was, of course, teaching-in-community. We were in each other’s homes—laughing together, weeping together, learning together, praying together. Some of the best teaching times grew out of the dynamic of those home settings where we might go late into the night—posing questions, debating issues, applying gospel truth to life’s circumstances. Dallas would move among us, teaching, always teaching. A spiritual charisma of teaching, I think. Teaching with wisdom. Teaching with passion. Teaching with heart. And always we experienced a sense of the numinous.

The third influence came initially from a Lutheran pastor, William Luther Vaswig. (With a name like William Luther Vaswig how could he pastor anything but a Lutheran church?) Bill’s church, large and influential, overshadowed our tiny Quaker fellowship. But what drew me to Bill had nothing to do with large or influential or even Lutheran. No, what I saw was someone thirsting for the things of God. So I sought him out. Bill, I said, you know more about prayer than I do. Would you teach me everything you know?

Now, the way Bill taught me about prayer was by praying. Lively, honest, heartfelt, soul-searching, hilarious praying. As we did this, over time we began experiencing that sweet sinking into Deity Madame Guyon speaks of. It, very honestly, had much the same feel and smell as the experiences I had been reading about in the Devotional Masters.

This movement into prayer was actually a two-pronged influence. My praying experiences with Bill were augmented by those of a wonderfully determined woman, Beth Shapiro, who was the head of the elders for our little fellowship. Beth was a nurse at a large hospital, and after working the night shift, she would come over to our church building in the early morning