Eros as Sacred Longing: When Desire Becomes the Doorway to God

This entry is part 7 of 7 in the series Towards a theoerotic christianity

The Ache Doesn’t Leave—It Deepens

My body slumps into the mattress, fallen from the cosmic heights of orgasmic bliss. Heart beating, ragged breath, sweat that streaks my heated skin like tears of relief.

The event has passed, the euphoria fades … my soul cries out as I am overpowered by longing.

After the touch, after the climax, after the sacred sweat and stillness, something remains.

It’s not regret.
It’s not emptiness.
It’s not “afterglow” in the usual sense.

It’s this ache.

But not the ache of absence.
The ache of invitation.
A longing that didn’t get extinguished by satisfaction—but got awakened.

This is where the theoerotic leads us—not to resolution, but to desire that opens the world.

Eros as Hunger for More Than Flesh

There’s a kind of kiss that makes you want to pray.
There’s a gaze so intimate it leaves you shaking—not from fear, but from recognition.
There’s a moment in bed when you realize what you’re actually hungry for isn’t just this body—it’s the eternal through the body.

You want god.
You want wholeness.
You want something too vast to name.

This isn’t the kind of hunger you satisfy.
It’s the kind of hunger that teaches you how to live.

It Does Not Exist—It Insists

Desire doesn’t want to be solved.
It wants to summon.

The erotic is not a puzzle to complete. It’s not a hunger to conquer. It’s a call—a sacred summons toward what can’t be held, can’t be owned, can’t be reduced to climax or conclusion.

And if we treat it like a possession or problem, we’ll miss the miracle.

Because this ache is not a wound.
It’s a window.

The Ache Is Sacred Because It Points Beyond Itself

In the ache, I have felt closest to the divine. Not because god showed up to soothe it, but because the ache was the sign of god.

Eloi, eloi, sabachtani

A signal flare in the deepest of darkness.
A rupture.
A longing that will not be satisfied.

This ache reminds me:
I am not self-contained.
I am not my own origin.
I am not enough for myself.

And that, too, is grace.

Desire as Pilgrimage

Every longing is a kind of journey. Not always with feet. Sometimes just with breath. Sometimes with memory. Sometimes with tears you didn’t know you still carried.

The erotic is not static. It is movement.
And where it takes you is not back to safety, but out into the open wilds—where certainty dies and the sacred begins.

I’ve followed my longing through lovers, through books, through silence, through betrayal, through doubt, through sacred ritual, through prayer, through erotic vision and theological deconstruction.

And always, always, it has led me back to this:

God is the hunger, not the fulfilment.

Remember

Desire is not weakness. Longing is not failure. The ache that follows theoerotic communion is not a problem to fix—it’s the threshold of the divine.

To feel deeply, to want more, to ache without knowing how to name it—that is where god resides.

Not in answers.
In longing.

Series Navigation<< Communion in the Flesh — Sacramental Theoerotics

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