As strange as it may sound, even spiritual people – people full of prayer and good intentions -can become angry on their journey toward God.
This isn’t just regular human frustration. This is what St. John calls spiritual wrath: a kind of soul-level irritability that comes from impatience with ourselves, others, or even God.
It often shows up when spiritual beginners fall back into sins they thought they had conquered. They feel upset—not just because they’ve disappointed God, but because their ideal image of themselves has been shattered. They get frustrated that their spiritual life isn’t as advanced as they thought. “Why am I still struggling with this? I should be past this by now!” they think. That anger may then turn outward: toward others who seem to be doing better, toward people who don’t seem to try as hard, or even toward pastors or spiritual directors who offer correction.
The Frustration of Imperfect Progress
Some get so fed up with their faults that they become harsh with themselves. Others get annoyed by the flaws they see in their community. The peace they once felt in prayer now turns into restlessness or irritation. What used to be joyful becomes a battlefield. They try to pray or fast or confess, but because the emotional rewards aren’t there anymore, they feel dry, discouraged, and angry. And sometimes, they blame God for it.
They might say things like:
• “Why won’t God help me overcome this?”
• “Why is prayer so dry now?”
• “Why are others so lukewarm when I’m trying so hard?”
This frustration may even become bitterness or resentment. Some souls become overly scrupulous -constantly anxious about their spiritual condition. Others grow cynical or critical. And if someone tries to correct or humble them, they may bristle or withdraw, insisting that “no one understands them.”
The Hidden Root: A Desire for Control
What’s really going on here? In many cases, the soul has not yet surrendered. It still wants to be in control of its growth. It wants to measure progress, check boxes, and feel good about its devotion. But God isn’t building a resume – He’s forming a saint.
And the road to sainthood often leads through frustration, dryness, and mystery.
In this dark night, God gently removes the soul’s illusion that it is in charge. He strips away its ability to manipulate feelings or measure holiness. And in the process, the soul is humbled, healed, and—eventually—freed from the need to feel successful.
What Holiness Looks Like Instead
Truly mature souls are gentle with their faults and patient with others’. They don’t get angry when progress is slow. They understand that growth comes from grace, not effort alone. They no longer expect others to be perfect or to see the world as they do. They are not surprised by their own weakness, because they know the road to God is long—and that love, not perfectionism, is what He’s after.
Their prayer becomes quieter. Their hearts become softer. And the anger that once burned in them fades – replaced by trust, by surrender, by peace.
Category: Dark Night of the Soul
Chapter 4: Lust and the New Believer
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.”
Chapter 3: Greed and the New Believer
After pride, one of the next great pitfalls that beginners face is a form of greed—spiritual greed. This isn’t about money or possessions, but about a craving for spiritual experiences.
Many beginners are so eager for the things of God that they begin to hoard them. They’re constantly seeking more: more books, more teachings, more prayers, more devotions, more retreats, more insights. They become obsessed with accumulating spiritual stuff, thinking that the more they consume, the holier they’ll become.
But this desire is not always rooted in love for God. It’s often about feeling spiritual, rather than being transformed. They collect spiritual practices the way others collect souvenirs—each new devotion or insight gives them a kind of emotional high, and they begin to equate experiencing with growing. But true growth often requires simplicity, surrender, and silence—not constant consumption.
When Spiritual Practices Become Possessions
These souls may find it hard to be content with just one prayer or one way of encountering God. They always want something new, more powerful, more emotionally moving. They get restless if they can’t feel something, as though God were absent just because the feelings are. But God often withdraws these consolations to teach the soul to love Him for who He is, not for how He makes them feel.
Even in their confessions, these beginners may feel more satisfaction in confessing virtues than faults. They may “enjoy” speaking about their spiritual victories, while avoiding the true work of exposing their weaknesses. This isn’t humility—it’s spiritual self-promotion disguised as confession.
The Soul That Consumes Grace Like a Product
This form of spiritual greed can also lead to jealousy. When they see others receiving blessings or spiritual gifts, they become anxious or competitive. Why not me? Why don’t I feel what they feel? Why isn’t God speaking to me like that? This reveals that the soul still sees spiritual growth as a kind of competition, or worse—a marketplace.
They may spend excessive time and energy trying to find the “best” spiritual experience, the most moving homily, the perfect worship service, or the most knowledgeable director. But in doing so, they’re forgetting that the goal of the spiritual life is not to feel full, but to be emptied, so that God can fill them with Himself.
The Cure: Simplicity, Trust, and Detachment
A soul that is truly growing in holiness becomes less interested in quantity and more open to depth. It may stick with one simple prayer for months, even if it feels dry. It may prefer silence over stimulation, surrender over striving. It does not chase after spiritual highs but waits patiently in the valleys, trusting God is just as present in the darkness as in the light.
God often leads these greedy souls into a kind of spiritual famine—not to punish them, but to heal them. He strips away the sweetness of prayer, the comfort of worship, the emotional rewards of devotion, so the soul can finally begin to seek Him, not His gifts. That is the heart of purification.
Chapter 2: Pride and the New Believer
The Subtle Pride of Spiritual Beginners
When people first begin their spiritual journey, they’re often full of passion and commitment. They pray often, attend church regularly, read Scripture, and eagerly pursue God. These are good things—but hidden within all that devotion can be a dangerous root: pride.
Because beginners are experiencing such intense spiritual growth, they often start to feel proud of it. Even though the things of God naturally lead to humility, their spiritual immaturity leads them to take secret satisfaction in how “holy” they feel. They might begin to compare themselves to others, thinking, “Why don’t they pray like I do? Why aren’t they as devoted?” Sometimes, they’ll even speak this aloud. In this, they unknowingly become like the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable, who praised God not out of gratitude, but to feel superior to the tax collector beside him.
When the Devil Uses Fervour
The enemy is clever. He doesn’t always try to make beginners sin in obvious ways. Sometimes he encourages their zeal—just enough to twist it. He fuels their passion so it swells into pride, making them feel spiritually elite. But instead of growing in virtue, they start performing for approval. They want others to see how spiritual they are. They judge others who don’t seem as “on fire” as they are. They may even gossip or criticize people who worship or serve differently. In this state, they’re blind to their own flaws while obsessing over others’.
They often feel misunderstood by spiritual mentors who gently challenge them. If a pastor or spiritual guide doesn’t affirm their approach or enthusiasm, they may assume their leader is “less spiritual” or just “doesn’t get it.” They’ll often seek out people who will admire their spiritual life, and avoid those who might call them deeper into humility or correction. Sometimes, they even resent the people who try to help them grow.
Performing Spirituality
They might start to dramatize their devotion—sighing, weeping, or using spiritual-sounding language—not just for God, but to be seen as spiritual by others. They may fall into emotional displays, sometimes even believing these experiences are from God when they’re just self-fueled or, at times, subtly influenced by the enemy.
Some become overly attached to their confessors or mentors, seeking favoritism or approval. They may hide their real sins out of fear of being judged, and instead exaggerate their strengths. They want to appear better than they are, when true humility would lead them to be transparent and unconcerned with how others see them.
When they do sin or fail, they become overly discouraged—not because they’ve offended God, but because their image of themselves has been shattered. They wanted to be saints already. So their frustration isn’t always holy—it’s often rooted in ego. Their prayers for God to take away their weaknesses are more about personal comfort than about love for God. If He answered those prayers too quickly, it might actually make them even more proud.
They don’t like hearing praise for others, but they do like receiving it for themselves. They may even seek out compliments in subtle ways—much like the foolish virgins who, unprepared, had to borrow oil from others when the bridegroom came.
When Pride Becomes a Pattern
These imperfections can grow over time if unchecked. Some souls only experience mild versions of them; others fall more deeply into the trap. It’s rare to find beginners who don’t stumble into these at some point. And this is exactly why God allows the soul to enter the dark night—to free it from these false forms of spirituality and burn away the pride that quietly clings to good works.
The Path of Humility
But not all beginners walk this way. Some—rare though they are—grow through humility rather than pride. They are eager to serve God, but they aren’t impressed with themselves. The more they grow, the more they realize how far they still have to go. They are inspired by others, never jealous. They think well of everyone else, and very little of themselves. If others praise them, they’re confused—“Why would anyone think that of me?”
They’re open to correction and grateful for guidance. They don’t try to teach others but remain hungry to learn. If asked to change direction, they’re willing. They rarely talk about their own spiritual experiences, not because they’re hiding them, but because they don’t find them particularly important. Instead, they’re more comfortable talking about their sins and weaknesses, and they tend to seek out people who don’t flatter them.
This kind of soul is quiet, simple, honest—and incredibly pleasing to God. Because they have emptied themselves, the Holy Spirit fills them with His wisdom and virtue. And where pride shuts God out, humility draws Him close.
They will give everything they have to help others follow Christ. When they fall, they don’t spiral into despair; they turn to God with meekness, hope, and trust. They know that everything good comes from Him—and so they are not surprised by their own flaws. These humble souls are rare, but precious. And it’s these souls that God calls deeper still—into the purifying night where His love can remake them completely.
Chapter 1: Babes in Christ
When a soul first starts its spiritual journey, it begins in the stage we call the beginner’s path—a place of sincere devotion, learning, and effort. But eventually, God invites the soul to go deeper. He begins to draw it out of the beginning stage and into the next: the stage of progress, where prayer becomes more contemplative, more about receiving than striving. The goal is to lead the soul toward a final state of perfection, where it lives in deep and constant union with God.
To understand the dark night—this strange and often painful season the soul must pass through—we first need to understand what beginners are like. Though we’ll move quickly, this will help beginners recognize their current spiritual condition, see their limitations with honesty, and begin to long for something deeper. And that longing, even if it feels like longing for darkness, will be the beginning of God’s real work in them.
A Soul in the Beginning Stage
At the beginning of its relationship with God, the soul often receives a lot of comfort and encouragement. It’s like a newborn being held by a tender mother—nurtured, carried, fed with sweetness. The soul is energized. It finds prayer exciting, fasting easy, and the sacraments full of joy. God gives these consolations freely, knowing the soul is too young to walk on its own. This is spiritual milk—designed to nourish, not to mature.
But, just like a child must eventually grow up, the soul also has to learn to walk. The sweetness disappears. The warmth fades. God begins to withdraw the sense of His nearness—not because He loves the soul less, but because He loves it more. He wants it to grow.
This shift is confusing at first. The soul may feel like it’s doing something wrong. But in reality, God is preparing it for something deeper than emotional highs. He’s calling the soul beyond feelings, into faith and virtue.
The Subtle Danger of Spiritual Comfort
Many beginners don’t realize that their spiritual activity—though passionate—is often driven by pleasure, not purity. They love prayer because it makes them feel good. They fast and serve and worship because it’s rewarding. But they haven’t yet been trained in real virtue—things like humility, patience, detachment, and love without strings.
So, though they look devout, their strength is shallow. Their devotion is often fragile. Their actions may be sincere but are still tangled up in hidden pride, spiritual vanity, and subtle forms of self-interest.
To show just how these imperfections work, and how deeply rooted they can be, the next chapters will walk through them using the framework of the seven deadly sins—showing how even spiritual people, when still in the beginning stage, can be entangled in hidden flaws they’re unaware of.
It is precisely these flaws that the dark night will begin to purify.
Book 1: Exposition
Before we dive into these powerful stanzas, it helps to know where this voice is coming from. The soul speaking here has already made it through deep, painful trials. It has walked a narrow, difficult road—the same one Jesus talked about when He said the way to life is hard and few find it. But this soul has found it. It has reached a place of deep, transforming union with God—a love so complete it reshapes everything.
This book begins by presenting all the stanzas of the soul’s journey as a whole. Then, we’ll explore each stanza on its own. After that, we’ll unpack each line step-by-step to understand its meaning and weight.
The first two stanzas describe the soul being purified—first in its physical desires, and then in its inner, spiritual self. The other six stanzas reveal the strange and beautiful effects that follow this purification: the soul’s enlightenment, its union with God, and the overwhelming love that flows from that place.
The journey the soul sings about in these stanzas is often painful, hidden, and mysterious. That’s why it calls the road a dark night. But it’s a night lit by love—a night that leads straight to God. That’s why the soul sings, not with sorrow, but with joy.
Let’s listen.
1.
One silent night, my soul caught flame,
With love that burned beyond control.
I slipped away, unknown by name,
While peace fell deep upon my soul.
2.
In darkness, hidden, safe from sight,
I climbed a stair none else could see.
Disguised, alone, without a light,
The world asleep, I wandered free.
3.
It was a night of pure delight,
Where none could find or follow me.
No stars above, no lamp in sight—
Just love’s fire burning silently.
4.
That flame within shone clear and bright,
More true than noon’s revealing ray.
It led me straight into the night
Where He in secret chose to stay.
5.
O night that brought me to His side,
More lovely than the morning’s rise!
O night that saw our hearts collide—
My soul reborn in His own eyes!
6.
He lay upon my flowering heart,
A resting place for Him alone.
I held Him close, no need to part,
While cedars whispered, softly blown.
7.
The breeze blew down from tower high,
And brushed His hair as I drew near.
He touched my neck—I breathed a sigh—
And all my senses disappeared.
8.
I drifted deep, forgot my name,
My cheek upon the One I love.
The world grew still, without a claim,
And lilies bloomed in peace above.
Prologue
This book is structured around the 8 stanzas of a poem written by the author, St. John of the Cross, the 16th century Spanish mystic. The first two stanzas detail the purging of the soul and body that the “dark night” accomplishes. The remaining six stanzas speak to spiritual illumination and our loving union with God. This book will treat the way and manner of the Christians journey with God along the narrow way that leads to life. This road is truly a blessed way, even as it is correct to call it the “dark night”, for only a few find it, and in finding it find life and therefore rejoice in it.
Dark Night of the Soul
by St. John of the Cross. Full text and notes available at http://www.ccel.org/ccel/john_cross/dark_night.html
Rewriting Spiritual Classics 