Now we come to another subtle but dangerous imperfection in beginners: what St. John calls spiritual lust.

This isn’t lust in the ordinary physical sense, though it can sometimes stir in that direction. Instead, it’s a kind of sensual attachment to spiritual things. Beginners can begin to crave the feelings that come with prayer, worship, or spiritual encounters in much the same way a person might crave physical pleasure or romance.

They enjoy the “sweetness” of being close to God—and that’s natural and even good at first. But if they’re not careful, they start chasing that feeling more than they chase God Himself. They begin to love the emotions about God more than the God who gave them.

They might want to linger in prayer not out of love, but because it feels good. They might weep or tremble or sigh—not because their heart is being broken open in worship, but because they’ve learned to associate those feelings with holiness. These responses can even become a kind of addiction. They long to “feel something,” and if they don’t, they feel as if God has left them or that something is wrong.

The Subtle Danger: Worshiping the Feeling of Worship

Some souls even begin to seek physical closeness to others during spiritual activities—not out of true friendship or community, but to satisfy emotional needs or unspoken desires. What starts as affection for a brother or sister in Christ can become emotionally entangled or even sexually charged if left unchecked. The soul may justify it as spiritual connection, when in fact it is a misuse of sacred things for selfish longing.

This is one reason why true spiritual directors and seasoned mentors are so important. They help the soul discern between what is holy and what is ego-driven or emotionally manipulative. Without such guidance, spiritual lust can grow unchecked, masquerading as zeal or deep connection.

The Call to Chaste Love and Real Detachment

True love for God is chaste—not just in body, but in heart. It doesn’t cling, grasp, or demand an emotional response. It gives itself freely, and seeks God for God’s sake, not for the comfort He provides.

As God leads the soul deeper, He often removes these consolations—not to punish, but to purify. He teaches the soul to seek intimacy without dependency, love without craving, presence without possessiveness. And in that holy detachment, the soul becomes free.

What emerges on the other side of this purification is a pure heart: one that can love God and others without grasping. A soul that can say, “Even if I feel nothing, even if You seem absent—I will still follow, still love, still trust.”