Purity of heart is decisive in the spiritual life. Our progress in holiness depends entirely upon it. Its vital importance can never be underestimated, not only in general terms but in the practicalities of daily living.

Purity of heart, however, can easily go unnoticed. It is something deep within us; it is not merely an external act, but a profound reality residing within our conscience. Then too, entering into our own conscience is not a skill we are naturally trained to practise. If drawing closer to God and opening our heart to Him is something we are seldom formed to do, then examining this dimension of ourselves is all the more challenging.

It is easy to become accustomed to mild double standards. Without recognising the profound truth that the Creator of the outer world is the same as the Creator of the inner, one can live almost entirely in the external sphere, allowing a screen or at least a grey area to obscure the inner chamber of the conscience.

Even those who are introspective, who spend much time with themselves, may not find it simple or natural to examine the integrity of their intentions. Some may cultivate a persona and adhere to it, living a mild double life or maintaining subtle forms of self-deception. Who truly knows themselves? Who has entered into the depths of their being? Who is the judge here, and who can guide us once we explore the interior of the human soul?

The capacity to enter within ourselves, to enter into our conscience, into this inner chamber, is the first and indispensable condition for achieving purity of heart. It involves examining our motivations, which can be exceedingly complex, as the unconscious mind often interplays with them. Traumas, a difficult upbringing, an incomplete formation of conscience, and habitual falsehoods can leave stains that are difficult to remove.

Taking this first step—entering into ourselves and abiding by the truth about who we are—is a challenge in itself. We do not fully know to what extent, or in what ways, we can deceive ourselves. The human soul remains a profound mystery. “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure: who can understand it? I, the Lord, search the heart and examine the mind” (Jeremiah 17:9–10).

This is distinct from the next step, which is choosing rectitude, choosing Jesus above all else. Achieving this requires inner strength, which is shaped both by upbringing and by the way God has created each of us, independent of external circumstances. “Lord, you desire truth in the inward being; teach me wisdom in the secret heart” (Psalm 51:8).

Indeed, quantifying the importance of purity of heart is difficult, despite its centrality. Great masters of the spiritual life emphasise it, yet even within major schools of spirituality, it often goes unnoticed.

Two statements give us clear indications about purity of heart and what it entails: “Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear.” (Vatican II, Gaudium et Spes 22) and “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32). Jesus is the Truth, and this statement can be read directly in relation to purity of heart, understood as the deliberate interior disposition to seek truth within oneself. In this sense, purity of heart is not merely innocence or the avoidance of sin, but an active commitment to honesty, courage, and uprightness: a choice to “faire la vérité en soi,” make the truth happen within oneself, i.e. to confront one’s own motives, desires, and inclinations without self-deception. It is a pursuit of truth that is both moral and spiritual, opening the soul to God’s light and freeing it from the distortions of self-interest, fear, or rationalisation. Purity of heart, therefore, is the lived practice of interior integrity—aligning one’s inner life with God’s truth—so that knowledge of God and self becomes a source of liberation, as Christ promises.

To repeat, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32), the stress we notice is on Jesus being the Truth, and his teaching being inseparable from his person. His words are not mere instructions but the very essence of freedom, illuminating the soul and dispelling darkness, sin, and self-deception. His teaching guides us into our inner selves, providing the courage to confront the truth and walk uprightly in his light. Initially, we have to admit, we are not free; we are not yet fully in the Light.

God’s mercy is the extended hand of Jesus, helping us enter ourselves without fear. His mercy and forgiveness reconcile us with our true selves, harmonising the outer and inner parts of the soul—making the two one. As St. Paul writes, “For he himself is our peace, who has made the two one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” (Ephesians 2:14). Through Christ, the division between our inner and outer selves is healed, bringing peace and unity.

Purity of heart is the interior disposition in which a person seeks God above all else, uniting thought, desire, and intention in a single aim: the good of God and of neighbour.

It is not merely the absence of sin or external wrongdoing, but a radical alignment of the inner life with truth and love, in which one no longer deceives oneself or allows hidden motives to corrupt action.

In purity of heart, the conscience is awake and attentive, able to recognise its own inclinations, the influences of the unconscious, and the subtle distortions of self-interest, yet submits all to God’s illuminating grace.

It is both contemplative and active: contemplative in the honest self-knowledge and interior openness it requires, active in guiding choices, relationships, and deeds according to the vision of God’s will.

Purity of heart makes the soul transparent to God, like clear water reflecting the light, and forms the foundation for the fullness of Christian virtues, especially charity, humility, and faith.

It is simultaneously a gift and a task: a gift in which God’s Spirit purifies desire, a task in which the believer co-operates through self-examination, prayer, and obedience.

Let us also distinguish two forms of purity: a) the one we choose in our behaviour and acts, using the general help of the grace of God, and b) the purity that is the result of God’s purification. The first one is always at the reach of the hand and depends on us (with the general help of the grace of God). The second one is the result of the journey of spiritual growth. There is a fine distinction here — one the great spiritual writers all hint at, though few say it so lucidly.

The first kind — the chosen purity —belongs to our personal effort and depends on it, because the general grace of God is given to us all the time. It is first and foremost putting Jesus and his will above everything else. This act depends on us. It is a choice we make, a sacrifice we decide to make. Understanding “chosen purity” starts by becoming aware of our freewill, that God created us free, and that to loving him is a free choice we make. We are invited to make this choice everyday, many times during the day. Once we understand that we are free, that loving God, our response to his love, is a free choice and that it depends on us, that we use this “power”. Otherwise, we spend our life waiting for God’s grace, not knowing that there is something that depends on us. if he said to us very clearly, and very simply: search and you will find, it meant very clearly that he cannot allow himself to force us, that he needs our consent. It is like he is saying to me: “chose me, and chose me again. Put me first in your life. Your growth depends on this. My intervention in your life depends on this. You are weak, I know it, but I respect your free will and your decisions. So if you chose me, if you put me above everything else, and you believe that all the rest will be given to you for free, that something depends on you that I can’t do for you, i.e. “choosing me”, then you will have to move. “I have the entire world, I created it, but I don’t have you, I don’t have your freewill, it is yours, and you are free to use it and to choose.”

Some people think that they need first to be purified and ready for union in order to deal with God. While, the truth is far from that. Because if we don’t take the necessary steps we won’t reach the top of the mountain, we will be waiting all our life. In fact, here lies the difference between the “intentional purity” and the “purification”. One is the top of the mountain, and the other is the condition that allows us to make everyday the needed steps to climb the mountain, to draw closer to God’s purity. If one thinks that he needs first to be purified, or if one doesn’t know that the purity of intention in our actions is vital, the consequence is there won’t be any real growth. The person will be at halt, waiting, doing many other things but not real acts which involve a choice, the choice of God’s will.

Isn’t this also the deep mechanism of Lectio Divina? What is at stake in Lectio Divina is to first understand that in order to hear Jesus talking to us, we need to put him first. We need to gather all our energy dispersed in many worries and concern, and give it to Jesus. Cut all the strings that tie our heart to plenty of things and offer our heart to Jesus. This is the condition for us to hear Jesus. Otherwise, we can’t hear him. He needs to tell us his will, but the fact that our heart is taken by so many issues, prevents us from hearing him. We need to offer to him all our concerns, this way our heart is freed (we cut the strings or pipes that connect us to our issues, which drain our energy), and we can offer it to Jesus. This Act is an act of purity, where we implement purity of intention. As one can see, this act is very practical, it is not wishful thinking. It is not general intention. It is not just putting myself in the presence of the Lord. It goes further deep in us, it awaken us to the fact that we are free and that loving is to chose and loving with all our heart requires this effort and that loving with all our heart is the condition for listening!

So again: “intentional purity” is the daily discipline of purifying intentions (see below), resisting attachment, and keeping the heart simple and. It draws on what the theologians call gratia communis — the ordinary help of God’s grace that strengthens our freedom. St. Francis de Sales calls this “purity of intention,” choosing in everything the will of God and nothing else (Treatise on the Love of God, V.5). Intentional purity is a conjunction of various efforts leading to the act of offering all our heart to the Lord.

The second kind is the result the reception of the particular help of the grace of God, the result of journey of growth in which we respond to God’s grace and obtain his free intervention (infused) in our heart, and intervention that purifies us, transforms us, enlarges our capacity with Divine Charity poured, step by step, in our heart.

The result of our effort and God’s own intervention/response and work in the depths of our soul. It’s not so much chosen as undergone. St. John of the Cross calls it the passive purgation (of the sense and of the spirit).

Both forms belong together: the first prepares and disposes; the second consummates and perfects. The hand that keeps watch over small purities becomes the heart that God can finally purify completely.

That chosen purity begins as a decision — an act of love that orders everything under one priority: Christ. Grace steadies that decision but does not remove the responsibility. If we apply it not only in Lectio Divina but during the day, it’s what St. Ignatius meant by “seeking God in all things,” not as a sentiment but as a deliberate sorting of motives.

The depth of that purity depends on what we understand to be “first.” If the “first” is simply virtue or peace of mind, the heart will still be fragmented. If the “first” is Jesus himself — his mind, his will, his love — then even small intentions begin to align.

As the understanding of who Christ is deepens, the axis of purity shifts. Early on, it’s about avoiding what stains; later, it’s about letting go of whatever divides attention. The more Christ becomes the single centre, the more limpid the heart grows — not by narrowing, but by unifying.

It is clear that understanding “intentional purity” in itself and also the difference between it and spiritual purity as a result of our growth both depend on our clear understanding of the difference between the “General Help of the Grace of God” and the “Particular Help of the Grace of God”. As St. Teresa of Avila said (Autobiography 14,6) for not understanding the existence of the two and the difference between them one looses a lot in spiritual life. Which means, one doesn’t progress.

As mentioned above, let us take one simple example to illustrate the difference between them.

When the Lord explained to us how the grace of God works he said: “ask and you will receive”. In Luke 11:9–13, Jesus says, “Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” But Luke immediately clarifies what this “asking” refers to: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

We know that all graces come from God. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” (James 1:17) also, “What do you have that you did not receive?” (1 Corinthians 4:7) and “A man can receive nothing unless it has been given him from heaven.” (John 3:27). This means that even to ask for the Holy Spirit needs a grace. But the living tradition of the Church distinguishes these two graces: the grace we need to ask for the Holy Spirit and the grace itself of the Holy Spirit. (see St. Thomas Aquinas) The first grace is a preparation grace, which predispose ourselves to ask for the Holy Spirit and be read to receive Him.

Distinguishing clearly the two types of graces is fundamental. Knowing that the grace that allows us to choose, to act, and to ask is given to us all the time can be a revelation to many, and can put an end to spiritual procrastination. We are not waiting to receive this grace! It is like the blood in our muscles. We don’t need to wait to have the blood in our muscles in order to extend our arm to God’s arm. It is a revelation for many and a revolution also. Because God who is always the first, already showed us that we are free, and is constantly giving us a grace that allows us to function, to think, make a choice, gather our energy, offer our worries, give ourself to Him. This grace is already given and we don’t need to wait! Otherwise we will wait for the rest of our life.

Now, this grace, this given grace, is not the personal and direct gift of the Holy Spirit. It is the grace that allow us to ask for the Holy Spirit.

Now this grace, the general grace, needs to be used and used to the fullness, that is to choose to gather all our energy in order to ask. The quality of our petition, the way we ask for the Holy Spirit is also part of the implementation or use of this grace. This is why the first commandment underlines the importance not only of Loving God but of Loving Him with all our heart, all our energy. So the use of the “general grace of God” depends on us. we can use it in a nonchalant way, half heartedly, and we can use it with all our heart, all our energy, all our desire, as if it were a matter of life and death. We can see this in the Gospel. The blind man way of begging is an incredible demonstration of the quality needed for this “begging” (Luke 18:35–43; Mark 10:46–52; Matthew 20:29–34). He used the general grace in a very strong and determined way, facing various obstacles and overcoming them. The first one was Jesus’ apparent silence. The second one was the apostles asking him to shush. His “faith” as the Gospel puts it, allowed him to obtain his healing, that is the intervention of Jesus healing power: the Holy Spirit. The Syrophoenician lady also is an incredible demonstration of the strength implied in the use of the General grace of God (Mark 7:24–30; Matthew 15:21–28). She overcame a huge obstacle of an apparent humiliation. The Lord treated her as a person from lower rank. He wanted to show his fellow Jews how to us the grace, and in fact he was giving them a lesson, rather a humiliating lesson saying: “see this lady, she is not even a Jew and look at her faith in me, look at her determination, look at the power she has when using the “general grace of God”. Imitate her! I am the Messiah, and you should be doing this! She has been better than you! Shame!”

In many of his healings – especially in Luke – the Lord says: “your faith has saved you”. Luke 7:50: to the forgiven woman: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Luke 8:48: to the woman with the haemorrhage: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” Luke 17:19: to the Samaritan leper who returned: “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” Luke 18:42: to the blind man at Jericho: “Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.”

This shows us a very important aspect of what faith is! Being aware that the human being is created at the image and likeness of God, free, capable of being a partner to God himself, and that God respects our freedom, and never forces himself in our life. That he really awaits for us to express with all our heart our desire, our choice. All this is expressed here in the healing episodes of the Gospel what is this act of faith God is waiting for. An act that depends on us.

It is true that faith as a theological virtue is a pure gift from God. It is true that according to St. Luke Mary only believed in God’s words – Zacharia and all of us couldn’t – that she only believed in the Resurrection (why do you search for the Living among the dead!), it is true that Mary believed for each one of us (her spiritual motherhood), it is true that we need to receive her as Elisabeth received her visitation, and therefore receive the fact that she believe in us. it is true that in Baptism we ask for this faith to be received. Because with this faith the way to God is opened, because by activating this faith we can access God and therefore according to the traditional formula obtain Eternal Life.

Is there a contradiction? No. Baptism allow Faith to take all her roots in us. it is true also that God’s grace draw us closer to him before Baptism! Otherwise nobody will ask for baptism.

Conclusion: “Chosen purity” is the condition for reaching “spiritual purity.” The first lies within our power, since the general grace enabling it is always given; the second is its fruit — the purified state that follows our free response.

The theme of purity of heart runs deep through Scripture and spiritual tradition carrying a single-hearted openness to God.

The first example that comes to mind is: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matthew 5:8) In biblical anthropology, the “heart” (kardia) is the centre of thought, desire, and will — to be “pure in heart” means to be undivided, ordered entirely toward God (cf. Psalm 86:11: “Unite my heart to fear your name”). This beatitude is a promise and not an explanation of what is purity of heart. It just states that if one is pure in heart, then he will draw closer to God, he will meet God, he will meeting Jesus interiorly. The purity of the heart is so valued by God that whoever decides to be truthful, totally truthful will certainly meet God. It is an invitation from God and also a promise. You can do it, and if you do it, you will find me. Still, one can pray and say: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10, RSV). God will help our weakness in the pursuit of a pure of heart attitude toward Him. Here, “a clean heart” or “pure heart” reflects the interior disposition we’ve been discussing: a desire for truth, integrity, and alignment with God. David recognises that external acts are not sufficient; what matters is the state of the inner life. This ties closely to the idea of faire la vérité en soi—he asks God to purify his motives and intentions, to illuminate what is hidden in his conscience, and to restore him to uprightness and integrity. This psalm is often cited in spiritual theology as a model for the pursuit of purity of heart, combining honesty with oneself, openness to God, and the recognition that only God can create true interior renewal.

Yet another Psalm examines the result of having a pure heart: “Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false.” (Psalm 24:3–4) It is the same as saying: the pure of heart will be in the presence of God, he will see God in his heart, in his conscience, he will be touched by him, by the Spirit of Truth, namely, the Holy Spirit.

The same teaching is seen in the words: “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you men of double mind.” (James 4:8) Here purity is the opposite of duplicity or divided intention — a key to interior conversion.

The key teaching on the purity of heart is embodied in this powerful instruction given to us by the Lord: “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well” (Matthew 6:33). The Greek proton (“first”) does not refer merely to sequence but to primacy; it signifies that every other concern must be subordinated to this one. The “pure heart” is precisely that heart which seeks a single aim (unum necessarium; cf. Luke 10:42). When we seek first, and there is no second, since “all these things will be given to us for free,” we are in fact performing an act of purity. The general help of God’s grace is constantly offered to us, and if we accept it and make a deliberate choice, we then dedicate all our energy to this pursuit. Without a clear aim, one has no hope. The drive in life comes from determining one’s goals. Once the goal is set, one can then do everything possible to achieve it. Here, the goal is to seek the kingdom. And this instruction speaks not only of the goal, but also of the manner in which we pursue it, that is, the practical activation of our hope. Are we aligned, in our daily behaviour, with this goal? How do we use our time and energy? Are we unified in our search for the Kingdom?

We often forget how radical—and, I dare say, “totalitarian” or even “ferocious”—the first commandment is. It gives us the goal, God, and calls us to love Him, but it also tells us something essential about purity: the manner in which He desires us to love Him: “with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37; cf. Deuteronomy 6:5). We rarely pause to reflect on this aspect of the commandment. We often reduce it to “love God and love your neighbour.” Yet to love God is only the first part; the second part—equally crucial—concerns the how: how do we love God? Notice the repetition of “all, all, all” three times. He does not say “half.”

So what is purity of heart? It is the full engagement of all the energy of our heart, our soul, and our mind.

Let us further observe that Mark adds another element: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). Heart, soul, and mind are mentioned, and Mark adds “strength.” The repetition is unmistakable: God wants everything. We are called to give ourselves wholly, not half-heartedly, not in a lethargic or limp way, but with firm and total commitment.

So, what is the teaching here? God wants us to seek Him, to seek Jesus, and He wants us to seek Him with our whole being. What, then, is purity of heart? It is the implementation of this “all” repeated three or four times: the deep conviction that we must relinquish other goals. “The rest will be given to you for free!” Yet we worry about the rest—food, clothing, success—we chase after them, saying, “we are human, and therefore we need the rest.” We forget that our Master is teaching us purity; He does not want a divided heart.

Is God truly our treasure? The Lord explains that where our treasure is, there our heart will be also. By “treasure” is meant the focus of all our energy, the object of all our desires. Here, the importance of knowing our goal becomes evident, for it unifies our heart, our desire, our purpose, the meaning of our life, our day, and our actions: “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:21). Jesus here reveals a spiritual law of attraction: the heart gravitates toward what it values most. Purity of heart means having a single treasure—God Himself. Anything less fragments the interior life. St. Augustine observes: “Your heart will be wherever you have placed your love” (Sermon 177.1).

A third similar teaching is given by the Lord in His conversation with Martha: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41–42, NIV). Only one thing is necessary. He is not asking Martha to stop serving; even His Mother, Our Lady, laboured diligently. He speaks rather of the attentiveness of the heart: worry and agitation drain our drive and damage our interior life. The third soil in the Parable of the Sower illustrates this vividly. The thorns represent how worldly cares and concerns choke Jesus’ word within us, preventing it from bearing fruit: “As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the lure of wealth choke the word, and it yields nothing” (Matthew 13:22).

Of great importance and beauty is the result of a unified heart – inner peace – which is the fruit of purity of heart: “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (Romans 12:18). To live in peace then – to work in peace – is to cultivate something far deeper than mere external calm.

Purity of heart also entails a form of detachment, detachment from all “the rest” (Matthew 6) and from “the many things that trouble us.” It does not mean abandoning one’s duties or isolating oneself; it means having the heart rightly ordered. Detachment is essential. St. Paul exhorts us to freedom of heart, a disposition that fosters and sustains purity of heart: “This is what I mean, brothers and sisters: the appointed time has grown short; from now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it; for the present form of this world is passing away” (1 Corinthians 7:29–31).

How can a person love his enemies if his heart is not pure? He cannot, not really. He might restrain himself, act politely, suppress anger — but that is behaviour, not love. To love one’s enemies means seeing them as God does, which only a purified heart can do. The heart that is still full of fear, resentment, or the need to be right cannot hold that kind of vision.Jesus links the two directly. In Matthew 5, the Beatitude on purity of heart (v. 8) precedes the command to love enemies (vv. 43–48). The order is not accidental: seeing God (purity) is what makes it possible to see others in God (charity). The Fathers make this point often. St. Gregory the Great wrote, “When the heart is purified by charity, even enemies appear lovable, because in them we behold not what they are in themselves but what they are capable of being in God.” (Homilies on the Gospels, II.32). St. John of the Cross says something similar, though in his austere way: “Where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love” (Letter to María de la Encarnación). This only works if the soul has been emptied enough — purified — to let divine love flow through it. So in practice: loving enemies is not a moral feat; it’s the overflow of a heart so cleared of self that God’s own gaze can pass through it.

If the first is the naked Jesus, as St. John of the Cross calls Him, this means that I am seeking God/the king for himself and not for the goods He can give me. Seeking nothing in return! Some can call it: the Crucified Jesus (St. Paul)

When St. John of the Cross speaks of “the naked Christ,” he is naming the point where every secondary motive — comfort, light, reward, even spiritual pleasure — is stripped away. The soul seeks God as God, not what comes from Him.

This is the hard edge of what Jesus intends in Matthew 6:33 : “Seek first the kingdom of God,” not its consolations. It’s also Paul’s vision in 1 Corinthians 2:2: “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”

For John, this is not a bleak renunciation; it’s the purest love. Only when everything else is laid aside can the soul meet God in truth, “without support and without light, but with love alone” (Ascent of Mount Carmel, II.4).

So yes — that form of purity is not moral cleanliness but theological clarity: loving the King more than the kingdom, the Giver more than the gift. The cross is simply where that choice becomes visible.

The purity of intention which decides all other outcomes in our spiritual life is a spiritual purity, not a moral one. This fact is of vital importance. Moreover, the notion that “purity of intention” plays a decisive role in our spiritual life is well-grounded (we are here aligned with tradition). Let’s walk through how it works and why it matters.

Our actions have a surface (what we do) and a depth (why we do it). The depth — our intention/motive — is often hidden, yet it’s what gives an action its value or weight. Tradition in fact says as much: “What must we do to acquire this precious purity of intention? We must continually watch our motives … What, then, is purity of intention? Purity of intention is having God alone as our object, free from all self-interest.” Here the point is clear: if God alone is the end, the intention is pure; if we mix in self-interest, approval, reward, then the purity is compromised. Because the intention precedes and directs actions, this “depth-level” purity shapes all other outcomes in our spiritual life. If the intention is “I want God above everything,” then even small acts become potent; if the intention is “I want praise, comfort, safety,” then even large acts are hollow. For instance: “It is not on the multiplicity of our actions that our progress in perfection depends, but on the fervour and purity of intention with which we do them.” (St. Francis of Sales)

The intention sets the axis.

Because of this, the “first” orientation (who/what we put first) becomes crucial. If St. John of the Cross’s “naked Christ” is first, then the intention is for Christ alone, not for benefits. The purification of intention is the terrain where “putting Christ first” becomes the interior reality, not just a slogan.

Why this matters for spiritual life

When the intention is pure, the “secondary goods” (comfort, affirmation, spiritual experience) lose their grip. The soul becomes freer. Subsequently the environment of spiritual growth changes: we become less vulnerable to discouragement when things fail to go well (because success is not the end of the intention). This is a sign of maturity. One writer put it this way: “Purity of intention consists in doing everything we turn our hands to with the sole intention of pleasing God.”  The alignment with Scripture is also true of purity of intention: when the heart is “single” (intentional, undivided) the body (i.e., our life) is “full of light”. It also highlights that spiritual life is not only about “doing more” but about being directed in the right way. There might be many acts, many rules followed, but unless the intention is oriented rightly, we miss the core.

Some cautions / tensions

Pure intention is not easy. Tradition warns: even when our primary intention is good, secondary motives creep in.  It does not mean we discard all self-interest altogether (God has not asked us to become emotionless). But self-interest must be subordinated, not the driving force. Significantly too, the “purity of intention” isn’t the only dimension of purity (there’s also purity of heart, purity of vision, purity of affection). For instance, the Imitation of Christ says: “By two wings is man lifted above earthly things, viz., by simplicity of intention and purity of affection.”  Finally: This is not about scrupulosity — obsessing about intention to the point of paralysis. The point is awareness, discernment, ordering, growth.

Here’s a concise, practical examen of intention that keeps the focus on the purity of intention without overcomplicating things. It’s designed to take 5–10 minutes, ideally at the end of the day.

Prayer for Light (30 sec)

Begin by asking the Holy Spirit to illuminate your day: “Lord, show me where my heart sought You and where it sought myself. Help me see my motives clearly.”

Review the Day (2–3 min) Slowly recall the main actions, decisions, and interactions of the day. For each, ask: What was my goal in this action? Was I seeking You above all, or some reward, comfort, or approval?

Identify Patterns (1–2 min)

Notice recurring tendencies:

Moments when my heart was single and focused on God.

Moments when my heart was divided, seeking personal gain or approval.

Reflect on Jesus as First (1–2 min)

Ask: Did I treat Jesus as my “naked King” in my intentions? Did my heart put Him first, even when it was uncomfortable or unrewarding?

Resolution / Act of Reordering (1–2 min)

Choose one concrete act for tomorrow:

Example: offering a task purely for God, correcting a small distraction in attention, or pausing to remember God before acting.

End with a short prayer of surrender: “Lord, I place this day, my heart, and my intentions in Your hands. May all I do seek You alone.”

The key is consistency over perfection. The examen trains the habit of noticing motives, purifying intention, and letting the heart turn toward God as the single treasure.

What we often call “perfection” in spiritual life is double layered. There is the perfection we can choose now, in the freedom God gives us: it’s intentional, deliberate, tied to the purity of intention. Every act of love, obedience, or simplicity counts; this is the chosen purity in action. It’s accessible, practical, and immediate.

Then there is the perfection that unfolds over time, as God purifies and transforms the soul. It is the fruit of repeated chosen purities — the infused, passive perfection, which we cannot achieve on our own. St. John of the Cross calls it the “unitive perfection,” where the soul participates in God’s own work of transformation (Ascent of Mount Carmel, II.5–6).

So the distinction does not consist of a hierarchy of value but of a temporal and causal difference:

In sum chosen purity / intentional perfection is what we can act on today, moment by moment, with the ordinary help of grace.

Infused / God-worked perfection is what God accomplishes in us over years of faithful cooperation, as He gradually unites our will and love to His.

In practice, spiritual growth depends on embracing both: consistent, intentional acts now, and patient surrender to God’s transforming work over time. Without the first, the second rarely comes; without the second, the first can become self-referential or limited.

Isn’t the total gift of oneself another way of saying “purity of heart”? They point to the same reality from slightly different angles.

Purity of heart names the interior condition: a heart undivided, free from attachments that compete with God, directed wholly toward Him. It’s the interior clarity and simplicity that lets us see God and respond to Him.

The total gift of oneself names the exterior expression of that interior purity: offering everything — time, choices, loves, even sufferings — to God without reserve. St. Francis de Sales puts it this way: “The soul that is detached from itself and from all else gives itself entirely to God” (Treatise on the Love of God, I.8).

So you can think of it like this:

Purity of heart = the axis, the inner orientation toward God.

Total gift of oneself = the manifestation, the lived act of that orientation.

Without purity of heart, the gift is partial or self‑interested; without the gift, purity remains internal and unrealised. They are inseparable in authentic spiritual life, two sides of the same coin.

The quality of the gift of oneself it very important. We often give ourselves half-heartedly, as the words of St. Teresa of Avila show when she says that we are very slow in giving ourselves totally to Him. She also says that He gives himself to us the way we give ourselves to him.

It must be acknowledged that this is one of Teresa’s most piercing insights. She never treats self-gift as a single act but as something that has degrees and quality. The half-hearted gift — the “yes, but” — is what keeps many souls circling in the middle mansions.

She says it plainly in The Way of Perfection (Ch. 28): “The Lord does not give Himself wholly until we give ourselves wholly to Him.” And again in The Interior Castle (IV.1): “We are very slow in giving ourselves entirely to God, and hence we do not receive all at once that treasure.”

For her, this reciprocity is not punishment or barter; it’s simple realism. Love can only be received by a heart as open as it is given. God respects the measure of our surrender. The more space we create by giving ourselves — without clinging, calculation, or fear — the more freely He can communicate Himself.

This is the reason she keeps urging us to  determined determination (determinada determinación): the steady resolve to give the self fully, again and again, until the heart becomes whole in its offering. The purity of heart, then, is not just about moral transparency but the quality of love’s gift — how undivided, how trusting, how total.

Teresa would probably say: the real delay in the spiritual life is rarely on God’s side.

If the gift of oneself is complete, we are opening ourselves to him more, so he can come. As he says: I am at the door and I am knocking, whoever opens for me I will enter! This means that the handle is on our side not his. We in fact determine “the flow or quality” of his gift to us! It is called also: purity.

The initiative is interior, the door handle is ours. God does not force entry; the soul’s openness determines both the depth and the intensity of His presence. Revelation 3:20 expresses it perfectly: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Here, the imagery makes the point: Christ knocks, but the heart must decide to open. The purity of that opening — undivided desire, freedom from attachment to self, willingness to receive fully — shapes “the flow or quality” of God’s gift.

St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa both stress this reciprocity: God’s transforming work is limited only by our receptivity. Purity of heart, purity of intention, total self-gift — they’re all the same reality seen from different angles: the soul’s undivided orientation toward God, creating space for Him to act fully.

So in practical terms, the spiritual life does not consist of a passive reception but a cooperative openness: the more fully we give ourselves, the more freely God can give Himself. Purity is the inner “handle” that controls this encounter.

1- choosing to switch from an adultlike behaviour (example: carrying our own worries and problems) to a childlike behaviour (entrusting any weight to Him, with trust, abandoning it into His Hands). Offering everything to Him. And leaving it there with Him.

2- offering ourselves totally like little children. Entrusting ourselves, totally to Him.

3- making the offering through Mary’s hands, so she carries us and introduces us into his heart, immerses us in His Love. The Holy Spirit works in her in an immaculate way.

This is the chosen purity. We can practise it as many times as we want during the day.

To love is to give oneself. Being pure of heart means that the person has no double standards, the person is direct, straightforward. The purity of heart can be equated then to being totally there for God. As we mentioned above, this implies that God can then give himself to us. He came to bring the Fire of the Holy Spirit here on earth. This is his yearning desire. When He finds the pure of heart, He then gives himself unconditionally to them. His Holy Spirit will purify our heart, transform it into Him. Purity of heart truly allows us to receive the full effects of Communion. “Blessed the pure of heart, for they will see God”, i.e. they will enter into contact with God, they will receive God.


Note: Modern psychotherapeutic approaches emphasise the importance of reflecting on one’s choices and underlying motives as a path to self-awareness and personal growth. Techniques such as cognitive-behavioural thought records and Socratic questioning encourage individuals to examine the thoughts and beliefs that drive their behaviour, asking questions like “Why did I act this way?” or “What motivated this response?” Behavioural experiments offer opportunities to test the consequences of actions, revealing whether intentions align with outcomes and uncovering hidden motives. Mindfulness and acceptance-based practices cultivate nonjudgmental awareness of impulses, emotional triggers, and inner tendencies, creating the space to observe one’s choices without immediate reaction. Values clarification and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy explicitly encourage reflection on whether actions correspond to one’s core values, highlighting gaps between ideals and behaviour. Psychodynamic and humanistic approaches deepen this reflection by exploring unconscious drivers, internal conflicts, and inherited patterns, providing insight into the forces shaping decisions. Across these methods, the common aim is disciplined, honest self-observation: to recognise not only what one does, but why, and whether one’s motives are aligned with authentic values, realistic beliefs, and constructive goals, thereby illuminating the inner workings behind actions rather than simply judging or rationalising them.