My Unholy Week

It’s Holy Week. My week hasn’t felt very holy. It’s been busy and tiring. With children on school holiday I’ve had people with me all the time. I’ve been managing their needs and my needs. We’ve met with friends and taken walks. Played games and eaten meals.

I hadn’t even read any of the bible accounts of this week in Jesus’ life until yesterday. Half way through Holy Week before I read the story.

Actually I’d been avoiding it. This week in the year, more than any other, I feel the truth of Christ’s death. I feel the weight of my sin which kept him on the path to Jerusalem. I feel deep, deep sadness in my heart as I read of the betrayal and inadequacy of his friends. I identify with Peter, because I know how much he loved Jesus. and yet. Hasn’t that been my story?

And here I am letting the demands of life push out some ‘holiness’ time this week. I’ve not been to a single church service. The way the next few days are shaping up I’m unlikely to be at anything before church on Easter Sunday. And I call myself a lover of Jesus ?

I am having a holy week.

I read yesterday of Jesus’ week. He met with friends and took walks. He told parables and felt hungry. He ate with people, not just grabbing at figs as he passed because he needed to make sure that there was time for the holy things, but reclining at tables for long enough so that the bravest woman could wash and perfume his feet.

My week is holy.

I am walking alongside those I’m meant to be with. I and they are people with bodies and needs. In my family situation some of those bodily needs are complex and require a great deal of my time and attention.

And that is ok. Jesus understands body. He understands hunger and pain and the need to eat, and the need to be with people and spend time in friendship.

Last night, unexpectedly a friend came for dinner. We’ve had no direct communication throughout the entire period of my infidelity and aftermath. We walked and we talked, and we prepared a meal and then we ate together at a noisy table full of laughter and bad jokes, good humoured teasing and the telling of stories. When she left I wished she could stay. She’s been a companion on this journey for over two decades and last night sharing food, and time, it felt holy. We were both being restored by our friendship and Jesus’ place in it.

It’s only occurring to me at this moment as I write (8.15am Thursday morning), that the significant event on Thursday of Holy Week, is food shared with others around a table.

Jesus’ life didn’t divide into holy and unholy weeks.

Ours doesn’t either. 



{Tara Owens has written a book “Embracing the Body” which examines what it is to be bodily. I’m linking this post with her words  this Holy Week as we journey towards the cross together.} 


12 thoughts on “My Unholy Week

  1. Caiobhe, these words THESE WORDS, like healing balm for my heart and fighting off the notion that I “have to” do Holy Week a certain way. Jesus does understand the body. Why we insist on making life harder than He never meant is beyond me, but your words remind me just how much grace Jesus lived. I want to live my Christ-life that way. Thank you for these words!


  2. Exactly!! We are called to the table where we are fed and forgiven! The biggest gift is knowing God wants us to gather at the table with all of our brokenness. He still washed Judas’ feet despite knowing that he was going to betray him. Gathering around food and with friends/family is such a holy act!!


  3. This is such a beautiful post. I love it! “Jesus’ life didn’t divide into holy and unholy weeks. Ours doesn’t either.” You write about the best kind of holy – our everyday life – It all can be holy because Jesus is always with us. Cultivating those family and friend relationships is so important.


    1. Thanks Gayl. I like that ‘the best kind of holy’ ! I’m more and more sure that it is in the everyday that we are the best kind of holy. I hope you have a holy week 🙂 x


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