In the Great Commission Jesus said to teach new believers to obey everything he commanded the disciples, but Christianity today completely neglects this. Instead, we are saved by grace, and all that is required of us is theological assent. In fact, being like Jesus is seen as too difficult to expect anyone to actually do. This is because we do not do the training Jesus did; it is like wondering why we are not an amazing athlete despite imitating Michael Jordan’s moves—amazing athletes spend lots of time training. Indeed, we see that Jesus had studied the Bible so much that by age thirteen the temple priests were amazed at his insights. He spent forty days fasting before beginning his ministry. He often sought solitude, and spent the night praying before major decisions. Jesus had a training regimen.

The Protestant Reformers started us down this path by (correctly) rejecting monastic excesses of the late middle ages where spiritual disciplines became a mechanical process of earning merit. However, the reaction swung too far the other way. When Richard Foster was researching Celebration of Discipline, he could not find one book on fasting published between 1861 and 1954! Instead of acting like Jesus, all that is required was theological assent. Now if a Christian said “I plan to ignore what Jesus said to do and I plan not to do them,” people would object. But “I have no plan to do what Jesus said to do” is the universal condition of the modern Church, yet it is functionally the same thing. William Iverson in 1980 observed that Christians in the United States were about 25% of the population, noting that a quarter pound of salt would certainly affect a pound of meat, yet the effect that Jesus talked about seems to be lacking. Saints should be the normal, instead of the startling exception. (Starting in the 1970s people began thinking that something was missing, which began the search for spiritual formation.)

The belief that salvation is merely forgiveness of sin is responsible for much of the problem. The early Christians, in fact, focused on the the Resurrection, rather than Good Friday. Their view, as elucidated by St. Athanasius (whom Willard does not cite), is that what Jesus did was re-unite us to Life, which we had become separated from at the Fall. The Resurrection demonstrated that the Life really is indestructible. We are now joined with Life, but just like the rest of life, we are responsible to nurture it. If we do not bother to find food, we are not going to thrive physically. If we do not nurture our relationship with our spouse, we will not have a good marriage. Similarly, God is not going to do relationship with him for us; we need to partner with the Life or we will not experience much of it.

Another part of the problem is that we fail to realize that the physical element is an essential part of who we are. Genesis shows God creating a physical body for Adam and uniting that physical matter with his spirit. The Gospels show God doing this again, but this time going the other direction: creating a physical body for his spirit. However, we tend to think that the physical gets in the way of the spiritual. This is functional Docetism, The problem is not the body, rather the problem is that we ignore the role that the body and the Fall play. God made us with a certain amount of power independent of him, so that we could act as his agents in cultivating the world. But because of the Fall, our bodies have been trained into a habit of sin; sin is our knee-jerk reaction. We use our independent power to rebel against him and serve ourselves. We cannot expect to act like Jesus did without involving our body in training ourselves so that acting like Jesus is our knee-jerk reaction. The purpose of the spiritual disciplines is to provide precisely this training.

When the Bible talks about “the flesh”, it is usually talking about our embodied will. The Bible does not, as many assert (and the NIV translates), mean “the sinful nature” when it talks about “the flesh”. Our body is good: God made it, pronounced it good, Adam’s body had no sin originally, and Jesus’ body never had any sin. Furthermore, to some extent we really are our body. It is impossible to deeply love someone without also loving their body. Pearl Buck records her mother being very upset when, after her infant brother died, people tried to console saying that only his body was dead. Her mother had made that body, have loved and cared for that body, and without that body could not experience her son. The problem is that our bodies have lost the connection to God’s spirit, and as a result we are not fully human in the way Genesis describes.

The ancient world expected that virtue requires discipline, but we expect that happiness should be our constant state, and if it is not then we are being unfairly treated. So we read Paul and cannot see spiritual discipline. We see Paul as teaching theology, and when we find something we do not understand, we take an idea from our grab bag of ideas and assume he is talking about that. In fact, he was a psychologist explaining how people work, and the ancients understood him that way. We assume that psychology and religion are unrelated because the secular field of psychology has taken pains to ignore anything to do with religion (despite the fact that most people think that religion is an important aspect of human life). Religion is inherently psychological, because it deals with how people work. Paul frequently talks about training his body, even going so far as to using a sports metaphor of physical training. Paul’s readers would have understood that spiritual virtue would require spiritual discipline, and Paul gave them disciplines. The early church did them, too, and apparently the external persecutions were enough to maintain them for the first two centuries. Now we think a church service is good if we leave feeling good or inspired.

The spiritual disciplines are what make us spiritually strong. We assume that after fasting for forty days that Jesus was at his weakest when the devil tempted him, but the opposite was true. God did not allow the devil to tempt him until he had strengthened himself after forty days of fasting; Jesus was at his strongest facing the devil. We rejected asceticism and the spiritual discipline because they were done poorly, but that is essentially to reject physical training because many people were getting injured because they were doing it unhealthily, punishing the body. But the best child is not the one that receives the most punishment"Asceticism” now means to punish the body, but the Greek root, ascesis, just means disciplined training, like an athlete or musician. When Jesus told Peter that the spirit was willing but the body was weak and told him to watch and pray, he was giving Peter the solution for the weak body, by prescribing the discipline of watching and praying. Jesus even handed him the opportunity to do it, but Peter slept instead, and as a result, he denied Jesus. (But that failure apparently also had the effect, because afterwards Peter indeed was the “rock” of the infant Church.)

The disciplines can be divided into disciplines of abstention and of engagement.

Disciplines of abstention:

Solitude Abstaining from relating to others. This is important in the beginning of one’s spiritual journey, and Jesus returned to it often. Solitude reveals the things we are using “to prop up our soul”. It is impossible to thrive in solitude without clinging to God.
Silence Abstaining from the sounds of the world. This is important to effective solitude. Silence can also be limiting your talking, either with others (prioritizing listening) or with God (just being with him instead of chattering away).
Fasting Abstaining from legitimate desires, especially food. It reveals to us how much those desires rule us.
Frugality         Abstaining from gratifying unnecessary desires. This frees us from letting our desires rule us, from being ruled by unnecessary debt, etc.
Chastity Abstaining from sexual interaction. While much damage from sexuality is from misusing sex or dwelling on sexual desires, it is important to have good relationships with the opposite sex for this to be done healthily. When refraining from legitimate sex within marriage, chastity helps prevent sex from being the center of the marriage, which is unhealthy.
Secrecy Abstaining from letting our deeds or character be known, which cultivates humility.
Sacrifice Abstaining from something necessary. This helps to discover God as provider.

Disciplines of engagement

Study The counterpart of solitude. This involves reading the Word broadly, as well as meditating on narrow portions, as well as finding good teachers of the Word, and reading from different ages and streams.
Worship “We engage ourselves with, dwell upon, and express the greatness, beauty, and goodness of God through thought and the use of words, rituals, and symbols”, individually and corporately.
Celebration  This is the completion of worship, where we celebrate what God has done for us. The Israelites had a festival where they were commanded to spend a tithe on whatever they wanted to celebrate God’s goodness to them.
Service Spending our time and treasure on meeting the needs of others. As a discipline this is different than service out of love.
Prayer This is a focused discipline of prayer that is different from the conversation of the colaborer that hopefully characterizes our normal life.
Fellowship Worship, study, prayer, celebration, and [/or?] service with other believers. A coal burns hotter when it is with other coals.
Confession This transparency is what results in knowing and being known. However, it can only safely be done where fellowship exists, and both the confessor and the leadership need to be wise and experienced to prevent abuse.
Submission This is the highest form of fellowship. The elders submit being servants of all that guide and build up the flock in love, while the younger submit to the kind guidance of the leaders.

Poverty is not a spiritual discipline, nor is it a more spiritually advantageous condition. (Here is a test of believing this: one devoted Christian has a lot of money, which he uses wisely for the Kingdom; one equally devoted Christian with no extra money. Which one is more spiritual?) Wealth is physical and is good just like the rest of creation. The Bible does not condemn money, but rather the love of money. Like the body, wealth has been corrupted by the Fall, and tends toward enslaving to love of money, entitlement, and indulgence. But just because many who have lots of money misuse it, or gain it at the expense of people and society, does not mean that money itself is bad. Furthermore, someone is going to have the money. If Christians give it away, then people with no interest in the Kingdom will use its power. How we fulfill our calling to steward the earth if we cannot use the resources of wealth?

But didn’t Jesus say that the poor are blessed, woe to the rich, etc? Yes, but Jesus did not teach by giving general principles that make a safe box to live inside. Rather he revealed the inadequacy of the “safe” assumptions other people were using. So when the rich young ruler said that he had kept the commands, Jesus tells him to sell everything and follow him, which revealed that he valued riches more than Jesus (whom he arguably had seen as divine by calling him “good”). This is not a prescription for everyone. If unless selling everything will solve love of money, it would be wiser not to do it. Neither are St. Anthony and St. Francis general prescriptions, since both of them felt that God had specifically called them to give up their riches. Jesus saying that it is hard for the rich to enter the Kingdom is not suggesting poverty, just observing that most with wealth are corrupted by it.

Poverty as a discipline is also misleading. True poverty is not having enough to meet your needs, but usually when people take a vow of poverty it is in the context of owning nothing personally, but being a member of a community that guarantees that their needs will be met, which is not the same kind of poverty at all. (In fact, the wealth of monasteries and indulgent living of monks was one reason that there were a string of monastic reforms every few centuries.) If one truly has nothing, how can one be generous? No, poverty is a false discipline. The true discipline is stewardship of money in kingdom use.

In order to fulfill the prophecy of Zechariah where ten foreigners will take hold of one Jew—interpreted as a spiritual child of Abraham—to teach them how to live, Christians need to practice spiritual disciplines in order to train us to be the kind of people that ten people would consider to have something to teach. The biblical model of this is the system of judges suggested by Moses’ father-in-law. In the model, there are judges/pastors for every ten families, who counsel, care, and judge disputes. More experienced pastors care for five of the first line of pastors, and those in turn are cared for by pastors who pastor two of the second line of pastors.

In The Spirit of the Disciplines, Willard has identified the key failing of the Church. It is clear that we are not producing saints, but less clear why that is. Willard identifies the problem and gives a prescription for the solution. He writes from a Southern Baptist perspective, but it is applicable to the entire Western church. (The Eastern Orthodox emphasize ascesis and appear to have a program for it, although perhaps it is also not expected for the non-monk, since the Orthodox do not seem to be notably saltier.) Unfortunately, while the argument is compelling, the organization feels very scattered, with pieces of a previous argument revisited in the middle of a different aspect. In fact, taking notes is essential to have any hopes of remembering the argument, but even with that, I struggled to determine the structure. As a result, the summary above did not follow the chapters very closely, in hopes of making a clear argument. After over 200 of these reviews, I regard this as a sign of poor writing. This is really unfortunate, because each subsection by itself frequently has incisive observations and challenging arguments, but because there is no easily discernible structure they just become a soup of things you want to remember but forget. Even so, this has become a seminal book, and is definitely worth reading—it will challenge and inspire you. Just read with a notepad.


Review: 7
The ideas are 9.5, but the writing is 4.