Jean Khoury

Summary: Spiritual growth in the Christian life does not come automatically from the multiplication of good acts, pious practices, or doctrinal fidelity. Classical theology, from St. Thomas Aquinas through the great Carmelite and Dominican commentators to Bl. Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus, has identified a precise and largely forgotten law: only those acts that engage the whole strength of the virtue already acquired — called intense acts — genuinely produce growth in charity and union with God. Weak or remiss acts, however externally correct, at best stabilise the habit and may actually weaken it. This doctrine, rooted in Aristotelian-Thomistic psychology and developed through the spiritual teaching of St. Teresa of Avila, has immense practical consequences. The present article first explains what an intense act is, drawing on Bl. Marie-Eugène, St. Thomas, the Salmanticenses, Cajetan, and more recent authors. It then establishes a strong parallel between the intense act and the perfect act as St. Teresa describes it in The Way of Perfection. Finally, and most originally, it argues that authentic supernatural Lectio Divina is one of the privileged daily loci of the intense act — and that a Lectio which does not attain this quality fails to generate real spiritual growth. The practical and pastoral consequences of this synthesis are considerable.

Introduction

St. Teresa of Avila states it without ambiguity: in the spiritual life, whoever does not advance regresses. There is no stable middle ground. The spiritual organism is not like a stationary object that remains in place when left alone; it either grows or decays. This is not a counsel of perfectionism, but a law inscribed in the very nature of charity and the habitus of the supernatural life.

Yet most people who are earnest in their spiritual life, regular in their prayer, faithful to their duties, doctrinally sound, do not visibly regress, but neither do they visibly advance. Years pass. The practices remain. The external fidelity continues. And yet something essential is absent. No real transformation occurs. This is the problem that the doctrine of the intense act addresses directly, and it is a doctrine of the highest practical importance.

What is an intense act? What distinguishes it from an ordinary or weak act? Where does this doctrine come from in the theological tradition? How does it illuminate the spiritual teaching of St. Teresa? And above all, in a synthesis that has not previously been made explicit, what is the relationship between the intense act and Lectio Divina? These are the questions this article proposes to examine.

The argument is twofold. First: the intense act must be understood, both in its theological foundations and in its concrete spiritual reality. Second: true supernatural Lectio Divina is, by its very structure, one of the best daily pathways to the intense act — and a Lectio that does not reach this quality is not, in the fullest sense, Lectio at all (it is rather purely a meditation in the medieval sense of the expression).

Part One: The Doctrine of the Intense Act

I. The Starting Point: Bl. Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus

The most accessible and experientially powerful formulation of the doctrine of the intense act in modern spiritual theology is found in Fr Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus OCD, in his major work ‘I Want to See God’, ‘I am a Daughter of the Church’. Two passages deserve extended attention.

The first is a narrative passage of great density:

“Such a person goes about fulfilling her duty simply, without either apparent fervour or apparent cowardice; her acts are good but weak. Another person, her neighbour, differs from her only slightly, but her awakened fervour sustains an attentive fidelity to purify her intention and to add to her acts that little nothing which ensures their perfection: her acts are good and intense. The latter, and she alone, exercises herself in love. The years pass in a common life which unites them and differentiates them very little outwardly. Yet the second has arrived at union of will, while the first, perhaps more gifted, has fallen asleep in an ease and automatism which have halted all progress.” (Bl. Marie Eugene, ‘I am a Daughter of the Church’, Fifth Mansions)

This passage is remarkable because it shifts the entire centre of gravity of the spiritual life. The difference between the two persons is not doctrinal, not disciplinary, not one of external ascetical practice, not emotional, and not even visible. Outwardly, they differ very little. And yet inwardly, an immense divergence is unfolding: one attains union of will, the other falls asleep. The decisive place of spiritual growth lies entirely in the interior quality of the act.

Bl. Marie-Eugène is not describing a mere difference in moral generosity or in psychological enthusiasm. He is pointing to a difference in the very manner of exercising charity. The decisive phrase is: “The latter, and she alone, exercises herself in love.” Both persons objectively fulfil their duty. Both perform good acts. But only one truly exercises herself in love, because only her act genuinely engages the will in a dynamic of self-transcendence towards God.

The key expression is: “that little nothing which ensures their perfection.” This little nothing is outwardly invisible but theologically immense. It is not an additional work, not a spectacular austerity, not a visible heroism. It is an interior quality of the act: purity of intention, a more complete consent, vigilance in love, a more complete offering, a more real going out of self. In other words, intensity does not reside in the quantity of acts but in its degree of interior totality.

The passage also illuminates the main cause of spiritual stagnation: not manifest sin, but the automatisation of good acts. The first person is not outwardly unfaithful. She is not lukewarm in a crude sense. But she has fallen asleep in ease and automatism. The principal danger for the spiritually earnest person is therefore the mechanisation of the good.

The second relevant passage from Fr Marie-Eugène states:

“Here, clearly affirmed, is the importance of acts in bringing about this union which resides in the will and not in the sensibility. Therefore acts are needed, and acts which truly develop charity. Is this not the place to recall that only those acts develop virtue which make use of the whole strength of the virtue already acquired and which are therefore called intense, whereas weak acts, good in themselves, but which do not exercise the whole of the charity acquired, rather risk diminishing its strength. This theological truth is of considerable practical importance. Moreover, intensity means perfection of the act in itself and purity of intention, and not necessarily effort or violence in performing it.” (Ibid.)

This second passage is explicitly doctrinal. Bl. Marie-Eugène is invoking a classical and precise theological tradition. He notes that intensity does not mean psychological agitation or sensible violence, but the qualitative perfection of the act and purity of intention. An act can be very intense theologically while remaining outwardly simple, peaceful, and almost imperceptible. This is crucial: intensity is qualitative and volitional, not emotional.

II. The Thomistic Foundation

Bl. Marie-Eugène is not inventing this doctrine. He is faithfully applying a classical teaching rooted in St. Thomas Aquinas. The fundamental locus in St. Thomas is the ‘Summa Theologiae’, I–II, q. 52, a. 3: “Whether a habit is increased by any act whatsoever” (‘Utrum quilibet actus augeat habitum’).

The central text reads:

“Since the use of habits is subject to the will, as stated above, it happens that a person who has a habit does not use it, or even acts against it; likewise, it can happen that one uses the habit through an act which is not proportioned to the intensity of the habit. Therefore, if the intensity of the act proportionally corresponds to the intensity of the habit, or even exceeds it, such an act either increases the habit or disposes it to increase. […] But if the act falls short of the intensity of the habit, such an act does not dispose to the increase of the habit, but rather to its diminution.” (Summa Theologiae I–II, q. 52, a. 3)

The underlying logic is Aristotelian-Thomistic: a habit (habitus) is a stable quality of the faculty that develops through homogeneous and proportionate acts. If acts become weak, routine, or mechanical, they no longer draw the faculty towards a higher perfection. The “Sed contra” of the same article adds: “Some acts proceeding from a habit diminish it, for example when they are performed negligently.”

St. Thomas returns to this doctrine in I–II, q. 53, a. 1 (“Habits are diminished in the same way as they are increased”) and especially in I–II, q. 53, a. 3: “Virtue is destroyed or diminished through the cessation of act.” The mechanism is explained as follows: “When a man ceases to use the virtuous habit to moderate his passions and actions, it necessarily follows that many passions and actions occur outside the measure of virtue. Hence virtue is destroyed or diminished.”

The essential Thomistic principle may therefore be stated precisely: not every act increases the habit, but only an act that is at least proportionate in intensity to the habit already possessed, or that exceeds it. A “remiss” act, i.e. one that proceeds from a less engaged exercise of the virtue than the habit would support, not only fails to increase the habit but disposes it to weakening.

III. Cajetan and the Salmanticenses

The Thomistic commentators developed this doctrine with great technical precision. Cajetan, in his commentary on ‘Summa Theologiae’ I–II, q. 52, a. 3, insists that the act must be “aequalis aut superior” (equal or greater) to the existing habit in order to produce real growth. His classical formula is: “A relaxed act in relation to the habit disposes more towards its weakening than towards its increase” (‘Actus remissus respectu habitus magis disponit ad remissionem quam ad augmentum’). And again: “Not every act increases the habit, but only one that is proportionate or more intense” (‘Non quilibet actus auget habitum, sed solum proportionatus vel intensior’). The key point in Cajetan is that the act must mobilise the virtue according to its present degree of perfection; otherwise the habit is not drawn upwards.

The Salmanticenses were a group of Discalced Carmelite theologians at the University of Salamanca who, between 1625 and 1710, authored a monumental and highly influential 20-volume scholastic theology textbook known as the (Cursus\ Theologicus). Based on the teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas, it is considered one of the most important productions of the Thomistic school. The Salmanticenses develop this doctrine on the intense act even more technically. They distinguish clearly between ‘actus intensi’ (intense acts), ‘actus remissi’ (relaxed acts), augmentation of the habit, and mere disposition towards augmentation. Their representative formulae include the following:

“A relaxed act does not increase the habit intensively, but rather disposes it to weakening” (‘Actus remissus non auget habitum intensive, sed potius disponit ad remissionem’).

“For the increase of the habit, an act is required which is at least equal to the intensity of the habit” (‘Ad augmentum habitus requiritur actus saltem aequalis intensitati habitus’).

“A fervent and intense act strengthens the habit; whereas a relaxed act can weaken it” (‘Actus fervens et intensus confortat habitum; remissus vero debilitare potest’).

The Salmanticenses explicitly apply this doctrine to charity and the spiritual life. It is very likely through them, directly or indirectly, that this teaching entered the modern Carmelite tradition and reached Bl. Marie-Eugène. Bl. Marie-Eugène used to recommend the Salmanticenses to his brothers.

The great common idea is therefore: a habit grows through acts, but not through all acts indiscriminately. The act must engage the virtue with a proportionate intensity. That intensity is qualitative and volitional, not emotional. Relaxed acts at best weakly stabilise the habit and may actually weaken it.

IV. How to Distinguish the Intensity of the Act from the Intensity of the Habit in Personal Experience

The scholastic doctrine is metaphysically rigorous, but it raises an immediate practical question: how can a person, in their own conscience, distinguish between “the intensity of an act” and “the intensity of the habit”? The difficulty is real. Neither is directly measurable psychologically. St. Thomas is speaking of an ontological and volitional reality, not of an introspective feeling.

A person cannot “measure” their habit of charity as one would measure a quantity. The habit can only be known indirectly, through the acts habitually performed — their ease, stability, purity, promptness, and fidelity under trial. St. Thomas himself provides criteria in I–II, q. 51, a. 2 ad 1: “The sign of a generated habit must be taken from the pleasure experienced in the act” (Signum generati habitus oportet accipere ex delectatione operis). Yet in advanced spiritual life, as St John of the Cross and Fr Marie-Eugène are clear, even sensible consolation can disappear while charity increases greatly. The external signs become increasingly unreliable.

In practice, the comparison between the intensity of the act and the intensity of the habit is not made through feeling but through the truth of the engagement of the will. Several concrete criteria emerge from the tradition.

The first criterion is the most fundamental: does this act truly use what I know I am currently able to give to God? A person may inwardly know that they could respond to God with a real gift of self, but remain voluntarily within a comfortable minimum. The act is then remiss in relation to the habit. Conversely, a simple act, without emotion, without apparent heroism, but performed with all the fidelity currently possible, can be extremely intense theologically. Intensity depends above all on the relative totality of the voluntary engagement, the purity of intention, the real degree of adherence to God, and the interior cost accepted out of love. This is exactly what Bl. Marie-Eugène means by “perfection of the act in itself and purity of intention.”

The second criterion is the presence or absence of interior reservation. The intense act is often characterised by true consent, absence of calculation, full adherence, and generosity proportionate to the light received. The weak act tends to contain reserve, division, partial consent, self-seeking, or the protection of certain areas of the will from God’s reach. Rapid spiritual progress comes less from the material multiplication of practices than from this quality of interior consent.

The third criterion is whether the act engages the whole person according to their present state. At the beginning of the spiritual life, a small sacrifice may be genuinely intense because it truly engages all available generosity. Later, the same act may become weak in relation to a more developed charity. This is the exact logic of St. Thomas: the act must be proportionate to the habit already acquired. What was fervent yesterday can become mediocre today. This explains a great deal of spiritual stagnation: the soul continues the same practices, the same prayers, the same external acts, but without an engagement corresponding to the light and charity already received. The acts have become remiss without any external change being visible.

The fourth criterion, crucial in Carmelite theology, is that true intensity appears above all in acts of pure will, in faith. In St John of the Cross, the most intense acts are often dark, poor, without consolation, and totally given to God. Half an hour of arid prayer can be infinitely more intense than a fervent sensible prayer, if the will adheres more purely to God: the act is in the will. The practical discernment becomes: “Am I truly giving myself according to all the light and grace currently received?”, not “Do I feel much?”

A final Thomistic nuance must be preserved: the soul never knows perfectly either its degree of charity or the exact value of its acts. A part remains hidden because of the depth of grace. This is why the great spiritual masters insist less on precise self-evaluation than on current fidelity, concrete generosity, increasing purity, and docility to the Holy Spirit. Bl. Marie-Eugène thus transforms a metaphysical doctrine of habitus into a concrete spiritual pedagogy: do not live below the grace received.

V. More Recent Authors

The classical doctrine of intense acts did not disappear in the twentieth century, though it was often absorbed into broader studies on virtue, charity, spiritual psychology, or the dynamics of the habitus, and few modern authors explicitly employ the scholastic terminology ‘actus intensi / actus remissi’ with the precision of the Salmanticenses.

The closest to Bl. Marie-Eugène is Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange OP. In ‘The Three Ages of the Interior Life’ (vol. I, ch. 8–9), he explicitly takes up St. Thomas on the increase of virtues and insists that fervent acts increase charity more greatly. He writes that the theological virtues grow through meritorious acts, especially through more fervent and more generous ones, and that a remiss act of charity, while it always merits, does not dispose towards a notable increase of virtue as a fervent act does. The structure of the Salmanticenses is present almost word for word.

The Dominican Juan Arintero, in ‘The Mystical Evolution’, develops a genuine dynamic theory of spiritual growth through the action of the Holy Spirit, insisting throughout on fervent cooperation, the intensification of acts, and deep docility. He is particularly important for connecting this with the organic growth of supernatural life and with the direct action of the Spirit. He writes that perfection depends less on the number of acts than on their vital intensity under the movement of the Spirit.

The Jesuit Joseph de Guibert, in ‘The Theology of the Spiritual Life’ (Part II), directly takes up the Thomistic doctrine of the increase of habitus, distinguishing ordinary, fervent, and heroic acts, and emphasising that fervent acts produce a disproportionate growth of charity.

Among the Carmelites, Fr Gabriel of St Mary Magdalene, in ‘Divine Intimacy’ and in his more technical spiritual theology, insists strongly on the interior quality of the act, purity of intention, and the adherence of the will as the decisive factors in the growth of charity.

More recently, Servais Pinckaers OP, in ‘The Sources of Christian Ethics’, has indirectly renewed this doctrine through his theology of virtue and freedom. He returns deeply to St. Thomas to argue that virtues grow through acts that truly engage freedom, that mechanical repetition is insufficient, and that moral growth depends on the interior quality of acts. His analysis of “freedom for excellence” converges strongly with the doctrine of the intense act, even if he does not employ the scholastic terminology explicitly.

Romanus Cessario OP, in ‘The Moral Virtues and Theological Ethics’, also explicitly addresses the growth of virtues and habitus, returning to I–II, q. 52–53. In more recent academic Thomism, Steven Jensen, Tobias Hoffmann, and Lawrence Feingold have addressed related themes in their work on virtues and human action.

One important observation must be noted: post-conciliar spiritual theology has frequently abandoned the scholastic technical precision concerning degrees of intensity in acts. Much modern spiritual writing speaks of authenticity, fundamental option, personal relationship, and existential discernment, but rarely of the qualitative growth of the habitus. This is why Bl. Marie-Eugène can appear strikingly classical or even pre-modern. In reality, he is one of the last major authors to have organically integrated St. Thomas, the great Carmelites, the Salmanticenses, and the theology of habitus into a living and practical spiritual synthesis.

Two Striking Examples of Intense Acts

As illustrations of supremely intense acts, one may recall two well-known examples.

The first greatly fascinated St. Thérèse of Lisieux. In the Ordinary Process of 1910 (PO, pp. 191–192), Mother Agnès testifies that, on 11 July 1897, Thérèse asked her to complete the manuscript of her autobiography in the following way:

“One could believe that it is because I have not sinned that I have such great confidence in the good God. Note well, my Mother, that if I had committed all crimes possible, I would still have the same confidence, and I would feel that this multitude of offences would be like a drop of water cast into a burning furnace. You will then tell the story of the sinner. Souls will immediately understand, and this example will encourage them.”

Mother Agnès continues:

“Here is what she wanted me to tell. In the Lives of the Desert Fathers, it is related that one of them converted a public sinner whose evil deeds were the scandal of an entire region. Touched by grace, this sinner followed the holy man into the desert in order to undertake a rigorous penance. Yet, on the very first night of the journey, before she had even reached the place of her retreat, the vehemence of her repentance filled with love broke the bonds that still bound her to the earth. At that very moment, the hermit saw her soul carried by angels into the bosom of God. This is a striking example of what I want to say, but such things cannot be adequately expressed.”

This account, with only slight stylistic modifications, was later incorporated by Mother Agnès into Histoire d’une âme(HA, pp. 198–199). Thérèse evidently saw in this story an illustration of the extraordinary power that a single act of repentance, inflamed by love, can possess before God.

A second example is provided by the Good Thief. In a single moment, turning to Christ with humble faith, he confessed both his own guilt and the innocence of Jesus: “We are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong” (Luke 23:41). He then entrusted himself entirely to the Lord’s mercy: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). In response to this act of repentance, faith, and love, Christ gave him the extraordinary promise: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43).

In both cases, what is striking is not the duration of the act but its intensity. A single movement of the soul, raised by grace and animated by ardent charity, appears capable of producing effects that far surpass what one might expect from the briefness of the moment. These examples help to illustrate what spiritual theologians have often meant by an “intense act”: an act whose fervour, depth, and degree of charity give it an exceptional spiritual efficacy.

Part Two: The Intense Act and St Teresa’s ‘Way of Perfection’

The ‘Way of Perfection’ of St. Teresa of Avila can be read, in its entirety, as a concrete pedagogy of the intense act applied to daily spiritual life. St. Teresa does not develop an abstract theory of the habitus after the manner of St. Thomas or the Salmanticenses, but she describes with remarkable experimental precision what an act looks like in which the whole person is truly engaged towards God.

The three great virtues she places at the foundation of the path, i.e. detachment, humility, and fraternal charity, are not presented as vague or decorative dispositions. They are constant loci of self-transcendence. For St. Teresa, “perfection” is not primarily the absence of defects, nor emotional intensity, nor the multiplication of practices, nor even mystical experience. It is the quality of self-gift in the concrete act.

The parallel with the intense act is therefore very precise. In St. Teresa, the imperfect spiritual act is an act still centred on self, mixed with self-love, restrained, calculated, dependent on taste, or limited by sensibility. The perfect act involves fuller consent, self-forgetfulness, a real preference for God, total gift of oneself, a leaving behind of affective securities, and a concrete adherence to the will of the Lord. This is exactly the structure of what the Thomists call an act proportionate to a higher degree of charity.

What is very important is that for St. Teresa this perfection is played out especially in small and concrete circumstances. The famous declaration that the Lord looks not so much at the greatness of works as at the love with which they are done (Way of Perfection 4, 10) means precisely this. The “love” in question is never sentimental; it denotes the totality of consent, purity of intention, and real generosity. This is exactly what the Thomistic tradition designates as intensity.

St. Teresa’s equally famous insistence on ‘determinada determinación’ — a great and very determined determination not to stop before reaching the source (‘Way of Perfection’ 21, 2) — is, in reality, the experiential equivalent of what the scholastics call the total orientation of the will in the act. This determination is not activism; it is the interior stance of a will that refuses to remain below the level of the grace received.

In St. Teresa, perfection is inseparable from the renunciation of self-love, from overcoming spontaneous reactions, and from the concrete capacity to prefer Christ to oneself. When she speaks of fraternal charity, she does not mean general benevolence, but very concrete acts in which one renounces one’s own judgement, sensitivity, preferences, and emotional needs in order to love according to God. These are precisely intensive acts of charity. Likewise, true Teresian humility is not psychological introspection but practical truth before God involving the renunciation of self-possession. And detachment is not simple external austerity but radical availability to God.

In other words, the three virtues of ‘The Way of Perfection’ describe three fundamental modalities of the going out of oneself required for the perfect spiritual act, and therefore for the intense act. This also sheds light on St. Teresa’s insistence that true prayer must produce effects. For her, a prayer that does not lead to greater detachment, greater humility, and greater concrete charity remains spiritually questionable, because it has not yet produced those acts of real self-transcendence which alone bring about transformation.

St. Teresa thus provides a concrete spiritual example of what scholasticism expressed metaphysically as the growth of habitus through intense acts. She shows from within what it is for an act in which the will ceases to protect itself, ceases to seek itself, and truly gives itself to God. The ‘Way of Perfection’ can therefore be described as a pedagogy of the growth of charity through daily intensive acts, and this is perhaps the deepest and least commonly observed key to understanding the book.

Part Three: The Intense Act and Lectio Divina

I. The Unique Structure of Authentic Lectio Divina

The doctrine of the intense act finds one of its most privileged applications, and one that has scarcely been developed in the theological tradition, in the practice of Lectio Divina. This connection is not merely devotional or methodological; it is structural and theological.

Authentic supernatural lectio divina is not primarily a religious exercise on a biblical text. It is an existential act of supernatural availability to the present Christ who truly wishes to speak and act “hic et nunc”. This shifts the entire centre of gravity of the practice.

When lectio is rightly understood, it involves a desire so strong to listen to the Lord that it entails a daily re-examination of oneself. It is more than uprightness of conscience and more than any form of fervour. It is directly oriented towards the present Lord who desires to speak. The energy invested in it must be of a certain quality (it must be total) in order to bring the person to a threshold beyond which the Lord begins to give himself. If there is not a renewed gift of self without conditions, the Lord does not speak. Lectio, at this level, presupposes the fulfilment of this going out of oneself.

In this precise sense, the act of listening and of putting into practice the Word of Christ, here and now, fulfils the conditions of the act that allows growth. This is not an incidental connection: it is structural. The intense act, as defined by the Thomistic tradition, requires total voluntary engagement, purity of intention, absence of interior reservation, and a real going out of self. These are exactly the conditions for authentic supernatural lectio.

II. What Non-Supernatural Lectio Is

To understand what true lectio is, it is necessary to describe clearly what it is not. Several practices circulate under the name of lectio divina which do not, in the theological sense, constitute a supernatural act of transforming listening to the living Christ.

The first inadequate form is simple rumination on Scripture. Rumination, understood as slow repetition, interior taste, and affective assimilation, can become spiritually passive in the wrong sense: not deep availability to God, but absence of genuine engagement of the will. The soul rests in its interior state, its taste, its pleasant familiarity with a text, without real self-transcendence. A teaching on lectio that stops at rumination exposes the practitioner to a tepid act, lacking energy, almost passive in the negative sense.

The second inadequate form is lectio as a purely intellectual exercise: a textual analysis, a meditation under the general light of faith that produces ideas and reflections but remains at the level of the intellect without the whole person being placed before the living Lord.

The third inadequate form is what might be called applied lectio: extracting a light or lesson from the text and applying it to some area of life, producing general resolutions or efforts. This approach tends to generate a vague moral tension, like resolutions taken after a retreat or at the beginning of the year, a gathering of strength that often dissipates rather than ascending to a new and higher act. The effort of will involved in such a practice is real but its object is generic; it does not aim at a specific and present encounter with the living Christ.

None of these forms is, strictly speaking, supernatural lectio in act. They may be pious, regular, doctrinally sound, even psychologically beneficial. But they do not generate the intensive theological act caused by the direct and personal intervention of the Holy Spirit. They produce reflection, spiritual culture, balance, and psychological support, but not transformation in the profound sense known to the spiritual masters.

III. The Supernatural Quality of Authentic Lectio as an Intense Act

True supernatural lectio is characterised by a specific quality of listening that engages the whole person before the living Christ. It requires vigilance, self-questioning, going out of self, consent, and total availability. The intensity of the act resides not in intellectual effort, nor in psychological concentration, nor in affective piety, but in the real degree of interior consent to the living Word.

This converges deeply with what St. John of the Cross describes throughout his work: transformation always comes from the degree of passive consent to divine action. It is not religious activity that transforms, but the quality of consent to God. In one of his characteristic formulations, he indicates that God accomplishes more in the soul in one instant of pure love than the soul itself in an entire life of effort.

This also corresponds to what Scripture itself understands by listening to God. In the Bible, hearing God is never simply understanding, reflecting, or meditating — it is entering into existential obedience. The “Shema Israel” is already this: a listening that engages the whole being. In the New Testament, listening to Christ constantly implies leaving, following, consenting, dying to self, and acting according to a present word. Supernatural lectio, rightly understood, is therefore the New Testament realisation of this complete listening.

The energy required for this kind of lectio is real and must not be underestimated. The effort of gathering oneself entirely before the Lord, of daily self-questioning, of placing the whole person in a state of genuine availability, this is genuine and costly. But it must be clearly distinguished from activism. The vigour of the act consists precisely in radical availability to divine action. This is very close to authentic mystical doctrine: in St. John of the Cross, the soul must be empty, poor, and naked, but this nakedness requires an extremely strong consent. Authentic spiritual passivity is never softness; it often demands a depth of will far greater than external activism.

IV. The Holy Spirit, the Will, and the Theological Quality of Listening

Without the Holy Spirit, it is impossible truly to listen to Christ. This is entirely traditional and beyond question. But a second affirmation, more demanding and more practically important, must be added: without the energetic vigour of a daily self-questioning that places oneself entirely before the Lord, the Holy Spirit cannot act directly and personally. He is waiting at the door of our heart; it is for us to open it. By the total gift of ourselves, we open it.

This second affirmation (the necessity of placing oneself entirely before God) must be stated with theological precision. In an absolute sense, God can always act freely, and grace always precedes every human movement towards God, St Thomas is unequivocal on this. But in the concrete order of habitual cooperation with grace, the whole ascetical-mystical tradition affirms: the Holy Spirit acts transformatively insofar as the soul truly consents to go out of itself. Grace does not abolish the total engagement of the will; it arouses it, makes it possible, and sustains it. The total engagement of the will leans on the general help of the grace of God.

This connection between the quality of interior consent and the transforming action of the Spirit is precisely where the doctrine of the intense act and the theology of lectio divina converge. In Thomistic logic, the habitus of charity grows through proportionate acts, and the most intense theological acts are those in which the will adheres most totally to God. Authentic supernatural lectio, understood as a daily act of total availability to the present and speaking Christ, is precisely a privileged locus of such acts.

The same external practice can therefore exist — the same text, the same duration, the same silence — but interiorly there may be either a human religious activity or a real act of transformative openness to God. The entire question turns on the theological quality of listening.

V. Lectio Divina and Spiritual Growth: A Necessary Connection

This analysis leads directly to a conclusion of great practical importance. Authentic supernatural lectio divina constitutes one of the principal instruments of spiritual growth because of its structural connection to the intense act.

When lectio is truly supernatural in act, when it is a real going out of self before the present Christ, it fulfils the precise conditions identified by the Thomistic tradition for the growth of the habitus of charity. It is an act that engages the whole strength of the virtue already acquired. It is not remiss. It draws the faculty upwards. And therefore, over time, it produces what the spiritual tradition calls genuine transformation, union of will, deepening charity, and the gradual passage to new thresholds of life in God.

Conversely, when lectio is merely a routine, i.e. a meditation, an analysis of the text, or a projection of one’s own thoughts onto the text, the quality of listening is mediocre, the supernatural current (the direct and personal action of the Holy Spirit) does not take place, and there is no growth. The practice remains. The external form is preserved. But the transforming current of the Spirit weakens.

It is important to note that this connection between lectio and spiritual growth has not been adequately developed in the theological tradition. Most medieval treatises on lectio describe its stages, its dispositions, its fruits, the practice of recollection, and the slow rumination of Scripture, but they do not analyse lectio as an intensive act of theological charity producing qualitative growth in union with God. The categories were available in the Thomistic tradition. The practice was present in the monastic tradition. But the explicit synthetic connection between the two was not made.

Note: Let us also acknowledge that in supernatural, or authentic, lectio it is the Lord who determines the act to be made. It is not only a question of the quality of the act itself; it is the Lord who guides us even in the smallest detail. Lectio is far more than the implementation of a series of virtues out of our personal choice. The Lord knows us and knows what we need. He surprises us everyday. In lectio, through the help of the Holy Spirit, the Lord shows us in our daily life, and above all in our heart, what he expects of us. Therefore, the quality of our self-gift allows him the freedom to ask of us what is truly fitting and necessary for us today. Since in lectio we encounter the Risen Lord, its superiority is unmatched.

VI. Two Kinds of Lectio: A Necessary Distinction

The analysis demands a double conclusion that has real pastoral and spiritual importance.

First: there exists a lectio which is not truly lectio, i.e. not strictly supernatural in act. It does not generate a higher supernatural act caused here and there by the Holy Spirit who intervenes in a personal and direct manner. It does not lead forward. It may remain materially correct, pious, regular, and doctrinally sound, while being spiritually weak. It produces reflection, spiritual culture, and psychological support, but not transforming acts in the profound sense.

Second: spiritual growth is greatly served by an exact and practical understanding of supernatural lectio. Where this understanding is present, where the person genuinely places herself daily before the present Christ with total availability, without interior reservation, in a real going out of self, lectio becomes one of the great daily pathways to the intense act, and therefore one of the great pathways to real transformation and union with God.

This also explains an observable fact of the spiritual life: some people practise lectio for years without real transformation, while others grow rapidly in union with God. The difference lies not primarily in intelligence, biblical culture, or time spent, but in the supernatural quality of listening. Where this quality is present, lectio is not merely a practice, it is a theological act of direct cooperation with the transforming action of the Holy Spirit.

Practical Consequences

The foregoing analysis generates several concrete practical consequences for anyone engaged in the spiritual life.

The primary practical question is never whether one performs one’s practices, but whether one performs them with the full engagement of the will that the present state of charity requires. A person should ask not “Have I done my lectio?” but “Have I truly placed myself, without interior reservation, before the present Christ?” Not “Did I feel something?” but “Did I genuinely go out of myself?”

Spiritual stagnation should be diagnosed first at the level of interior quality rather than external quantity. The person who multiplies practices while remaining below the level of interior engagement available to them is, in the precise Thomistic sense, performing remiss acts. The person who performs fewer practices but engages them with greater totality and purity of intention is performing intense acts and will advance.

The mechanisation of the good is the principal practical danger for the earnest spiritual person. The very earnestness that produces habitual fidelity is the same earnestness that can, over time, produce automatic fidelity, fidelity without the daily renewed engagement of the whole will. The remedy is not more practices but more interior quality in the acts already being performed.

Lectio divina, in particular, demands a daily act of self-questioning and renewal of availability before it begins. Without this, the most regular lectio can remain at the level of pious rumination or intellectual reflection, neither of which, in itself, generates the transforming current of the Spirit. The preparation for lectio is not a technique; it is a theological act of total re-offering of oneself to the present Christ.

The quality of listening in lectio is the central issue, not the method employed. A careful reading with scholarly apparatus, performed without genuine interior consent to the living Word, is less valuable spiritually than a simple, perhaps even short, reading in which the whole person is truly present before Christ. The shift recommended by this doctrine is: from the text to the present Lord; from reflection to listening; from understanding to transformation; from spiritual exercise to theological act.

The doctrine of the intense act also provides a standard by which to evaluate the overall direction of a spiritual life. Where progress is genuinely occurring, acts will be marked by increasing purity of intention, increasing freedom from self-seeking, increasing fidelity in obscurity and without consolation. Where progress has stalled, there will typically be a detectable element of self-protection in the dominant acts, areas of the will that are not fully given, consolations that are sought rather than offered, a preference for the comfortable minimum over the generous maximum.

Finally, this doctrine invites a reversal of a common modern assumption. It is not primarily the variety or sophistication of spiritual methods that produces growth, it is the supernatural quality of the interior engagement within whatever acts are performed. This is a liberating truth: even the simplest life, with the most ordinary daily circumstances, can become the setting for intense acts that advance the soul rapidly towards union with God. The “little nothing” of which Bl. Marie-Eugène speaks is available to everyone, at every moment.

Conclusion

The 27th July 1897, looking back at her life, while she is just few weeks before dying, St. Therese of the Child Jesus said: “With what desire and what consolation have I repeated to myself, from the very beginning of my religious life, these other words of our holy Father St. John of the Cross: “It is of the utmost importance that the soul should exercise itself greatly in love, so that, being quickly brought to perfection, it may not linger long here below, but may swiftly come to see its God face to face.” (Living Flame I v.6)” The exercise in love is about acts of Love! Does St. John of the Cross mean Intense acts of Love? Most certainly! That was the quality of her acts.

The doctrine of the intense act is, as the evidence of the tradition makes clear, a central and not a peripheral truth of Catholic spiritual theology. It is rooted in St. Thomas, developed by the Salmanticenses and Cajetan, taken up by the Carmelite tradition and by Bl. Marie-Eugène, confirmed by the spiritual doctrine of St Teresa’s “Way of Perfection”, and practically urgent for any serious understanding of spiritual growth.

The fundamental law may be stated briefly: spiritual growth depends not on the multiplication of religious acts but on the supernatural quality of the interior engagement within those acts. Acts proportionate to the charity already acquired, or exceeding it, draw the habitus upwards. Acts falling short of that standard, however externally correct, fail to produce growth and may actually weaken the habit.

This doctrine, applied to lectio divina, opens a synthesis that the tradition has not previously made explicit. Authentic supernatural lectio — understood as a daily act of total availability to the present and speaking Christ, involving a real going out of self, purity of intention, and genuine interior consent — fulfils precisely the conditions of the intense act. It is therefore, by its very structure, one of the privileged daily pathways to spiritual growth. True Lectio Divina produces intense acts.

A lectio that does not reach this quality, a lectio that remains at the level of rumination, intellectual meditation, or the production of general moral resolutions is not, in the fullest theological sense, lectio at all. It is a materially correct religious practice that has not become a transforming act.

The pastoral consequence is considerable. Much of the contemporary spiritual malaise, i.e. the sense that sincere practice does not produce transformation, may be traceable precisely to this point. The practices are present; the interior quality of the act is absent. Where the interior quality is restored, where the will genuinely gives itself, without reservation, in each act of prayer, charity, and detachment, and above all in a daily supernatural lectio, the law stated by St. Thomas, confirmed by St. Teresa, and made practically vivid by Bl. Marie-Eugène will operate: charity will grow, union with God will deepen, and the soul will advance.

The great forgotten key of spiritual theology is not a new method. It is this: to perform the acts one already performs, with the whole strength of the charity one already possesses.

Bibliography

Classical Sources

Thomas Aquinas. ‘Summa Theologiae’, I–II, q. 51–53. Latin text available at Corpus Thomisticum (www.corpusthomisticum.org).

Cajetan (Tommaso de Vio). ‘Commentaria in Summam Theologiae’, I–II, q. 52, a. 3. In the Leonine edition of the ‘Opera Omnia’ of St Thomas Aquinas.

Salmanticenses (Collegium Salmanticensis OCD). ‘Cursus Theologicus’, tractatus de habitibus, Disp. III–IV.

Teresa of Avila. ‘The Way of Perfection’. Available in multiple critical editions; cited passages from ch. 4 and ch. 21.

John of the Cross. ‘The Ascent of Mount Carmel’; ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’; ‘The Living Flame of Love’. Collected Works, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez (ICS Publications).

Modern Authors

Marie-Eugène of the Child Jesus OCD. ‘I Want to See God’ (‘Je veux voir Dieu’). Chicago: Fides Publishers. Vol. I, Part II.

Garrigou-Lagrange, Réginald OP. ‘The Three Ages of the Interior Life’. 2 vols. St Louis: Herder, 1947–1948. Especially vol. I, ch. 8–9. English text available at the Christian Classics Ethereal Library (www.ccel.org).

Arintero, Juan González OP. ‘The Mystical Evolution in the Development and Vitality of the Church’. 2 vols. St Louis: Herder, 1949–1951.

De Guibert, Joseph SJ. ‘The Theology of the Spiritual Life’. London: Sheed and Ward, 1953. Part II.

Gabriel of St Mary Magdalene OCD. ‘Divine Intimacy’. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1996.

Pinckaers, Servais OP. ‘The Sources of Christian Ethics’. Washington DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1995. French original: *Les sources de la morale chrétienne*. Fribourg: Editions Universitaires, 1985.

Cessario, Romanus OP. ‘The Moral Virtues and Theological Ethics’. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1991. Ch. on habitus and the growth of virtue.

For Further Reading

Jensen, Steven J. ‘Living the Good Life: A Beginner’s Thomistic Ethics’. Washington DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2013.

Feingold, Lawrence. ‘Faith Comes from What Is Heard: An Introduction to Fundamental Theology’. Steubenville: Emmaus Academic, 2016.