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Tuesday, October 1, 2024 at 9:35 PM

DELIBERATELY DIVERSE |

Deliberately Diverse represents the individual thoughts and opinions of a group of Taylor friends. Today’s column represents the thoughts and opinions of The Reverend Terry Pierce, vicar of St.

James’ Episcopal Church in Taylor

“For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” — 1 Corinthians 1:18 Not so long ago, I would have said the message about the cross was foolishness.

I could not find my way through a story that began with virgin birth and ended with brutal death.

And I was perishing – from too much drink, too much food and a loneliness so deep it seemed beyond the power of God to find me.

Then my sister came, the oldest one, and we went fishing.

This wasn’t any ordinary fishing expedition because she wasn’t ordinary in any way. She was the most sparkling person I ever knew.

She came with a plan, never revealed to me.

Neither of us knew a thing about fishing. She also came with fishing poles that were very old and had been in someone’s garage for quite a long time, and a bucket.

Somewhere on the way to Lake Ray Hubbard, we bought a bag of bait fish.

Now here’s the thing about that trip. Jo Carol said she was going to write an article for some outdoor magazine about dock fishing in Texas, and she had heard that lots of people went dock fishing at Lake Ray Hubbard. I lived in Dallas, so there you are.

I was 30, and Jo Carol was almost 40. The women who fish at night at Lake Ray Hubbard are older – 60, 70, 80. We were the only white women on the dock.

We found a place to settle and Jo Carol immediately tangled her line in someone else’s line.

We left at two or three in the morning, having disrupted the entire dock with laughter and tangles and instructions. The steady fishing men went home in frustration at the noise and chaos we brought, but the women stayed with us.

I started going there by myself once a month or so when I couldn’t sleep. It was harder without Jo Carol to start conversations, but I made a few friends who greeted me by name.

There’s no miraculous ending to this story. I learned a bit about fishing for people and a bit about what Jesus was up to. I don’t really think the point of the Jesus story is virgin birth or death on a cross. Jesus’ story was and is about fishing, making community and gathering people to take care of and love one another.

This week in Taylor, I am grieving, fearful and angry. There is so much division and anger about change and newcomers, bike lanes and speed limits, and who will decide what sort of town Taylor will be.

Remembering Jo Carol and that fishing trip pointed me toward the Jesus solution: gather people, take care of one another, love one another.


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