The visual and dramatic quality of the first reading always grabs my attention. I imagine myself riding along in my chariot, engrossed in reading Isaiah, when suddenly up runs a stranger – Philip – prompted by the Spirit. I imagine how startled, perhaps even annoyed I would be by this sudden interruption. Then he asks me if I understand what I am reading! But the Spirit is in charge here, and the answer is gentle –“How can I, unless someone (you, perhaps?) instructs me.”

I invite Philip to sit in the chariot and explain…bear in mind I am in charge of the whole treasury of the queen of the Ethiopians. No small potatoes. But I am curious to discover what this stranger’s interruption in my journey home will reveal.

Well, suffice to say, I am convinced by Philip’s recounting of Jesus and his mission, and when we pass by some water I tentatively, perhaps timidly say “What’s to stop me from being baptized?” Indeed. After all, I am– a eunuch, a servant. But I am welcomed totally – and as soon as I emerge from the waters of baptism, I go on my way, rejoicing.

As I read these words as if I were the servant, I realized the interruption led him to Jesus. I am challenged to experience all the interruptions of my day as if they are holy, from an angel of God, leading me to respond with open heart to whatever is asked of me. The ill-timed phone call, the child tugging at me, the flat tire, the numerous ways our days are punctuated with holy interruptions we can reframe to see the hand of God inviting us to a closer journey with him.