We strive to know Christ more deeply and bring others to his redeeming grace.



As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is

called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they

were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish

for people.” (Gospel Reading for January 26, 2020, Matthew 4:18-19, NRSV).

My grandfather Edward taught me to fish from a motor boat on Florida’s

Lake Okeechobee. We saw kingfishers, and alligators, and miles and miles

of everglades during our expeditions. I learned from him how to bait a hook

and how to cast, especially how to snap the rod at the end to make the line

fly out with that satisfying sound long into the water. I wasn’t great at fishing.

I caught some fish. The point was more about being with Grandpa. Maybe it

was just that Grandpa was one of the few people in my life who thought it was worthwhile to teach a girl to fish. It made me feel human. There was never a question when we visited about whether or not I would or could come along; I was always invited. Today whenever I see a rod and reel I think about being with him, laughing in the hot sun and coming home with my skin smarting, covered with a towel or whatever I could find as the shadows lengthened.

Long before I knew him, my grandfather had wanted to be a Pastor and somehow decided to come all the way out here to Portland from Michigan to attend Western Theological Seminary. He was a mason (actual bricklayer, not the club member) and built a small cinder block house at 625 NW Kelly in Gresham. (I know because that address is written in his very-well used King James bible that I now own.) Last time I checked Google Earth, the house was still there. The weather didn’t agree with my grandmother and her allergies, so the family moved back to Michigan.

When my grandfather and I fished together he was not just catching fish, he was fishing for me. He taught me that I mattered. I was worth his time. It also modeled for me a way of being with people with no agenda other than love. It gave me the audacity to believe that the divine spark also resided in me. Learning to fish for people is not just about saying “God” and “Jesus” every other word. It begins by recognizing the divine presence already within our neighbors.

Happy fishing,


1609 Elm St. Forest Grove, OR