Interrupted by Holy Things

Holy Week is a time of reflection, as we seriously contemplate Christ’s journey to the cross - and beyond.

It’s a time in the Christian calendar when some traditions encourage us to deny ourselves. Some give up alcohol, others chocolate or caffeine. These choices may seem superficial, but it’s not what we give up that matters; it’s the act of self-denial that’s significant. Christ gave His life for us, so we give up something to help us remember that sacrifice.

But perhaps a more meaningful discipline would be to spend more time in Scripture, to spend more time in prayer, and to bring into focus the depth of what Christ accomplished for us on the cross.

Through focused worship, we’re reminded of that sacrifice. We sing hymns like ‘When I Survey the Wondrous Cross’ on Good Friday, and ‘Christ the Lord Is Risen Today’ on Easter Sunday. We pass through Easter weekend with warmed hearts, a renewed sense of gratitude to our Lord, and a resolve to pick up our cross and live for Him, whatever the cost.

Times like Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, and our communion seasons here in the Highlands and Islands serve to refocus our attention on the Lord. They give us space to simply sit at His feet, to pay attention to His words, and to let them stir and warm our hearts.

But often, we pass through these sacred seasons as we would any other event in our schedule or diary. They’re noted in the church calendar and become part of our personal timeline, blending in with everything else. Our life and faith become integrated - we go on living for ourselves, for others, and for God. It seems like a good balance… but I wonder: how is that really working for you?

I've been reading a book called Wide Bright Hope: The Big Church Read Lent Book 2025. One of its reflections is about time - making time to be interrupted by holy things. It encourages us to shift from thinking about time as a schedule to seeing it as a place. Likewise, it invites us to consider sacred space not just as something to pass through, but something to hold, to be present to God in those moments.

Do you ever wonder what Jesus was saying to Mary as she sat at His feet?

Whatever it was, it must have been worth enduring the scorn of her sister Martha, who was focused on the tasks at hand, worried about how she’d manage to cater for her guests. But Mary was more concerned with place, just being present with Jesus.

Is this you?

“My default approach to prayer was as a place to pass important information and requests between God and me, rather than seeing it as a place to simply stare at the mystery of God. To waste time on and with Him.”

We live on a beautiful island. Taking time to truly enjoy it—to be present in it and pay attention to our surroundings - is far more rewarding than simply treating it as a landscape to pass through.

Mark 1:35
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went off to a solitary place, where He prayed.

Even Jesus, in the busyness of His ministry, took time to stop and focus on God the Father. He went out of His way to do that. Soon enough, the rush of life came back, the disciples disturbed Him, clamouring for His attention. But first, He made time for God. Then He dealt with everything else.

I remember my first spiritual retreat. It was set in beautiful surroundings, with a small chapel where you could sit, pray, and meditate. It was a place of peace, a thin place. A space where the gap between heaven and earth seemed to close. I felt so close to God there, with an overwhelming sense of connection and stillness.

Wide Bright Hope encourages us to make time to be interrupted by sacred moments. Whether in church, in nature, during our devotions, or wherever we feel God’s presence, let’s allow Him to speak. Let’s treat those spaces as holy ground, giving our full attention to the moment.

We’re urged to stop on our timeline and treat our devotions not as things we pass through, but as places where we are truly present.

Easter is one of those moments. It is a time and a place. A place where we sit at the foot of the cross and grieve our Lord’s death - and then, in the very next breath, we arrive at the empty tomb, and our spirits soar as we remember: He is Risen.

Have a blessed Easter.