Emotions and Motions: How the Soul Discerns Beyond Feeling

We often say “I feel” when we mean very different things. Sometimes we mean an emotion, joy, sadness, fear. Other times we mean an inner prompting, a sense of being drawn toward or away from something in prayer or decision-making. Confusing these two can make discernment difficult. The Catholic tradition helps by distinguishing passions of the soul, which belong to our sensible nature, from motions of the intellect and will, which belong to our spiritual nature. Grace does not bypass either, but moves us through both, in ways that can be recognized, tested, and rightly ordered.

The Problem: The Ambiguity of “I Feel”

Our culture often treats emotions as the most authentic part of ourselves. “Follow your heart” or “go with your gut” are everyday slogans. Within Christian circles, we may also hear “I feel God wants me to…” as if inner impressions always carry divine authority. Yet the word feel is imprecise. It can mean bodily sensation (“I feel cold”), emotional state (“I feel sad”), or even intellectual judgment disguised as affect (“I feel this is right”).

This lack of precision matters in discernment. If I confuse an adrenaline rush for a divine prompting, I may mistake natural excitement for supernatural confirmation. If I dismiss every movement not accompanied by warm emotion, I may ignore God’s quiet guidance. The first task, then, is to clarify what we mean when we say, “I feel.”

A Psychological Note: Emotions vs. Feelings

Modern psychology sometimes distinguishes emotions from feelings. Emotions are quick, bodily responses such as fear when startled, joy at good news, or anger when offended. Feelings are the more sustained, conscious experiences that follow, such as lingering anxiety, steady contentment, or abiding affection. The distinction helps explain why our interior life can be complex. A flash of emotion may pass, while the feeling lingers and shapes our choices.

This is not the same distinction the Catholic tradition makes, but it can serve as a helpful bridge. Aquinas spoke of the passions, bodily movements of appetite, and of the higher powers of intellect and will. Ignatius spoke of consolations and desolations as spiritual motions. What psychology calls “feelings” often lives in the middle ground, not as fleeting as passions and not as stable as spiritual conviction. Clarifying this prepares us to see how grace moves us, not simply in raw emotion, but in deeper motions of the soul.

Thomistic Frame: Passions, Intellect, and Will

St. Thomas Aquinas offers categories that bring order to the confusion. In the Summa Theologiae (I-II q.22–48), he treats the passions, the movements of our sensitive appetite: love, hatred, desire, aversion, joy, sadness, fear, anger, hope. These are good in themselves, created by God, and essential to human life. Yet they are not our highest guide. Left unchecked, passions can distort judgment. Properly ordered, they are harnessed by reason and directed by charity.

The intellect knows truth. The will chooses the good as presented by the intellect. Grace elevates these powers, making the will capable of choosing supernatural goods. The passions can assist, love of God, joy in prayer, zeal for justice, but they must be governed. Virtue, for Aquinas, is precisely the habitual ordering of passions under reason. Thus, while passions have a place in the Christian life, discernment rests ultimately in intellect and will, moved by grace.

This distinction explains why a low-affect person, who rarely feels surges of joy or tears in prayer, can still live a deep spiritual life. Their soul can be genuinely moved by grace even without visible emotional intensity. Conversely, a highly emotional person must be careful not to equate intensity with authenticity. God works through passions, but not only through them.

Ignatian Layer: Consolations and Desolations

St. Ignatius of Loyola, in his Spiritual Exercises, adds a vital dimension: the distinction between spiritual consolations and desolations. These are not reducible to emotions. Consolation may be accompanied by joy, peace, or tears, but at its heart is a motion of the soul toward God, faith, hope, and love. Desolation may involve sadness or dryness, but its essence is a motion away from God, into confusion, tepidity, or despair.

Ignatius’s Rules for Discernment (Week 1) emphasize this difference. A soul in consolation finds its thoughts lifted to heaven, its will strengthened for good, its heart inclined to trust. A soul in desolation feels weighed down, restless, tempted to abandon prayer. Importantly, these are not simply emotions. One can be emotionally sad yet spiritually consoled if the sadness leads to deeper trust in God. One can be emotionally happy yet spiritually desolate if the happiness distracts from God.

This distinction frees us from equating emotional highs with divine presence. God’s motions may come in quiet conviction, steady perseverance, or reasoned clarity as much as in warm affection. As Scripture reminds us, Elijah did not find God in the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in the “low whisper” (1 Kgs 19:12).

Practical Tests: Signs, Fruits, and Reason

How, then, do we discern whether a movement, emotional or otherwise, comes from God, ourselves, or the enemy? Scripture and tradition give us several tests.

First, Christ’s test of fruits: “You will know them by their fruits” (Mt 7:20). A motion leading to greater faith, hope, charity, and peace is likely from the Holy Spirit. A motion leading to pride, isolation, confusion, or despair should be resisted. Emotions are tested not by their intensity but by their fruits.

Second, the role of reason. God gave us intellect to judge rightly. If a sudden impulse contradicts Scripture or the teaching of the Church, it cannot be from God, no matter how powerful it feels. Likewise, if a quiet conviction aligns with revealed truth and bears good fruit, it should not be dismissed simply because it lacks emotional force.

Third, charity as the measure. St. Paul tells us that even the greatest spiritual gifts mean nothing without love (1 Cor 13). Motions that increase love of God and neighbor can be trusted. Those that diminish charity or foster self-absorption are suspect.

Finally, the role of governance. Emotions are not ignored; they are ordered. Virtue moderates anger, channels zeal, and directs joy. Music, for instance, can elevate emotion into genuine prayer. A hymn may stir the heart in ways daily life does not. But even here, reason discerns: is the emotion leading me deeper into God’s truth, or merely into self-indulgence?

Pastoral Payoff: Hope and Guidance

These distinctions bear real pastoral fruit. For the person who rarely feels strong emotions, there is hope. God does not measure spiritual life by emotional fervor but by fidelity, charity, and openness to grace. A quiet “yes” to God’s will is as real a motion of grace as the tears of a mystic. As St. Paul assures: “It is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil 2:13).

For the highly emotional person, there is guidance. Strong passions can serve the Gospel when ordered, but they are not themselves the Gospel. Not every feeling is a prompting of the Spirit. Learning to test emotions against reason, Scripture, and charity protects the soul from confusion and disappointment.

For all, the interplay of passions and motions can deepen prayer. A hymn may stir love, but love must be confirmed by obedience. A conviction may arise in silence, but silence must be weighed by truth. The whole person, senses, passions, intellect, and will, is moved by grace. God created us as embodied souls, not angels. He works through both the sensible and spiritual dimensions, but always in a way ordered toward love.

Conclusion: Discernment Beyond Feeling

To confuse emotions with motions of the soul is to risk both credulity and cynicism. We risk credulity if we mistake every surge of feeling for God, and cynicism if we dismiss God’s quiet guidance because it lacks fireworks. Aquinas reminds us that passions serve virtue when ordered by reason. Ignatius reminds us that consolation and desolation are spiritual realities, not mere moods. Psychology reminds us that emotions and feelings are not identical, and clarifying the terms helps us discern better. Scripture reminds us that God’s voice is often a whisper, and that he works in us to will and to act.

The pastoral wisdom is simple yet profound: not all “feelings” are passions, and not all motions of the soul are emotional. Distinguishing the two clarifies how grace moves us and keeps discernment sane. It also reassures us that God is present to every temperament, the stoic as much as the sensitive, the steady as much as the fiery. In this truth lies both peace and freedom: peace, that we are not at the mercy of our emotions; freedom, that God’s grace can move any soul, in ways both quiet and profound.