Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth

Foster discusses solitude as an inward state of fulfillment rather than mere physical isolation. He distinguishes loneliness, which reflects inner emptiness, from solitude, which brings inner wholeness and frees people from external pressures. Although external silence can help nurture solitude, Foster insists that real solitude is primarily about cultivating an inner “sanctuary” that remains steadfast whether an individual is physically alone or in a crowd.

Foster illustrates how Jesus modeled both inward and outward solitude. Citing biblical examples, he notes that Jesus frequently withdrew to “lonely places,” such as the desert or mountains, and even instructed his disciples to do likewise after busy periods of ministry. Foster references Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s view that only those who can be alone well are also equipped for meaningful community, emphasizing that solitude and fellowship complement one another.

Silence, Foster explains, is integral to solitude because it fosters listening—first to God and then to others—without the urge to justify or manipulate. He warns that speech can become a means of control or self-defense, whereas under the discipline of solitude, one learns to trust God to handle both one’s concerns and reputation.

Foster also explores the concept of the dark night of the soul, drawing on St. John of the Cross. He describes this “night” as a season of inward dryness and detachment from spiritual comforts, permitted by God to deepen dependence and strip away superficialities. During this time, believers should refrain from seeking escape or external validation, instead waiting patiently for God to accomplish inward change.

Finally, Foster offers practical steps for implementing solitude: embracing “little solitudes” in daily routines, creating personal spaces or special “quiet places,” learning to speak with restraint, or taking short retreats for extended periods of silence. He encourages experiments such as going a day without speech or scheduling regular intervals for reevaluating one’s life goals in silence. Through these practices, individuals discover that genuine solitude replenishes empathy and compassion, enabling them to be truly present for others. Ultimately, Foster portrays solitude as God’s invitation to receive inward peace, learn trustful silence, and experience a deeper sense of divine companionship.

Foster explores how genuine submission brings freedom from the burden of self-interest and the compulsion to have one’s own way. Rather than endorsing unthinking subjugation, Foster explains that biblical submission calls believers to an inner attitude of consideration and respect for others, modeled after Jesus’s own life and death on the cross. This spirit of “revolutionary subordination,” as Foster calls it, enables Christians to see that their happiness does not hinge on personal agendas; by freely giving up the right to demand control, they discover a sincere liberation in daily interactions.

Foster describes how every spiritual discipline carries a corresponding freedom. In submission’s case, that freedom is the ability to relinquish the “terrible burden” of needing to be in charge. With a biblical foundation from texts such as Mark 8: 34 (“deny himself and take up his cross” [141]) and Ephesians 5: 21 (“be subject to one another” [149]), Foster emphasizes that the essence of submission is not losing individuality or self-esteem but rather finding true fulfillment through self-denial. He clarifies that self-denial must never be equated with self-contempt; instead, it is an act of love that prioritizes others’ needs above one’s own without hatred toward oneself.

Foster addresses the common misunderstandings surrounding submission, noting how it has often been misused to control or demean. He advocates careful discernment to identify the point at which submission becomes destructive. Pointing to the examples of both Peter and Paul, he shows that submission to human authority is void when it violates divine commands or undermines love and justice. Further, submission applies reciprocally to all believers: Just as wives or children are asked to submit, so are husbands, parents, and those in positions of power called to live the “cross-life,” yielding personal preferences to serve others.

In conclusion, Foster offers seven acts that illustrate how one can practice this discipline within various relationships: with God, Scripture, family, neighbors, the church community, the marginalized, and the larger world. While maintaining that spiritual authority transcends rank or title, he highlights the importance of both courtesy and compassion for those who lack genuine spiritual authority but occupy official roles. Ultimately, the discipline of submission frees believers to love without demanding a return and to move beyond self-will toward the Christlike pattern of servanthood.

Foster explains how true service differs from self-focused or “self-righteous” service and embodies the humble spirit epitomized by Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. He begins by comparing the cross (a sign of submission) to the towel (a sign of service), revealing Jesus’s radical model of servanthood at the Last Supper, where the disciples were struggling to determine who was the greatest. Foster underscores that in a world fixated on hierarchies and “pecking orders,” Christ’s example abolishes such systems by redefining leadership as humble service rather than the pursuit of status.

Foster next contrasts “self-righteous service” (161), which seeks external recognition and prestige, with “true service,” which arises from a divine prompting within. He notes that self-righteous service becomes selective, overly concerned with results, and often manipulative, whereas true service quietly meets needs out of love, irrespective of rank or reward. Further, true service cultivates humility more effectively than trying to “achieve” humility directly.

Service, Foster says, involves a series of “little deaths” of self, often found in small, hidden acts rather than grand gestures. True servanthood eschews the obsession with self-importance in favor of meeting everyday needs—such as small kindnesses, secret acts of help, and routine hospitality. Through “hidden service,” one avoids seeking applause and deals a blow to pride, learning to center others’ welfare over personal ambition.

Foster addresses fears of being taken advantage of, clarifying that the servant, by voluntarily giving up the right to be in charge, gains freedom. Voluntary service eliminates the anxiety that comes of trying to control others’ responses, and it affirms the dignity of those being served. He identifies forms of service such as listening, bearing one another’s burdens, and guarding others’ reputations, all of which nurture genuine community.

In conclusion, Foster highlights that service is not merely a checklist of tasks but a transformative way of life that teaches believers to act like servants rather than merely perform service. This life of servanthood, emblematized by Christ’s towel, quiets the flesh’s desire for recognition and replaces it with a heart that welcomes every opportunity—large or small—to meet others’ needs in humility and love.