“Grace meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” We often return to these words by one of our favorite authors, Anne Lamott. And perhaps nowhere have they felt more true than in our experience of Mary Magdalene.
Whether we are Dorothy wandering down a yellow brick road in sparkly red shoes, Indiana Jones crossing the desert in search of a biblical treasure, or Elsa and Anna following a mysterious call into the unknown, the story is essentially the same: we set out, and somewhere along the way, we change.
Joseph Campbell gave us the Hero’s Journey. Of course, it can be reimagined as the Heroine’s Journey. But the journey does not have to look quite so fantastic. In truth, ours hasn’t—at least from the outside looking in.
When we first began writing here on Substack, we playfully described our methodology as “a treasure hunt for goodness.” This language—inspired by the Gospel of Mary, and the unforgettable line:
“This is why the Good has come into your midst. It acts together with the elements of your nature so as to reunite it with its roots.”1
Because for us, signs, symbols, and strange little synchronicities have always guided our way. And we are well-aware that this way of seeing and experiencing is not unusual. We believe it to be one of the most potent ways Mary speaks to all of us, threading hints and clues through the most ordinary moments of life.
A number. A color. A symbol. A name.
You notice one, and it sends you somewhere. And when you arrive, there is another waiting.
An alabaster jar. A tiny pink wildflower opening into a five-petaled star. A turquoise amulet cut in the shape of an eye. A goddess. An ancient text. Even a Church Father.
Little details that catch your attention. Names that repeat. A book that falls open at exactly the right place. An author who appears just when you need her.
This, to us, is a journey too.
We don’t believe you need to leave home to find Mary Magdalene. You don’t need to travel to France, to Rome or to Egypt to encounter her, to be moved by her, or even to find yourself thrown into the kind of pilgrimage that can feel very much like a tornado lifting your whole home from its foundation.
Sometimes the adventure begins while you are chopping vegetables for dinner. Or maybe it’s the thought that drops into the quiet of the shower, while driving, or in the mindless rhythm of an ordinary chore. And then, it opens as it is shared—in a voice note, in a text message, or an exchange with a passerby. Suddenly your daily life has become a meandering adventure, with no plane ticket or overseas trip required.
No, you don’t need to leave your kids or the people you love to chase the magic of Mary. Or to understand who she truly was—and why she matters for your faith.
But perhaps we were never meant to make the journey entirely alone.
There is something about sharing what we are noticing with another person—a friend, a stranger, a group—that deepens the experience. We reflect things back to one another. We wonder together. We give language to things the other person may only have felt. Sometimes we even offer the simple reassurance: “yes, I see it too.” And somehow, in that exchange, the awe grows and the path feels a little less daunting.
Even our stories give their travelers companions. In the Golden Legend, Mary is set adrift toward Marseille in a rudderless boat alongside Martha, Lazarus, Maximin, and others.² Dorothy begins with Toto and gathers the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion along the way.
And we were lucky enough to have each other.
Fishing on the Right Side of the Boat was born from years of conversation between us—two friends talking, wondering, debating, reading, noticing, and being unafraid of saying, “wait, look at this,” even when what caught our attention seemed tiny, strange, or completely absurd. Then came the willingness to follow that breadcrumb wherever it led, whether it ended in a small realization or something that felt much larger.
And as we have brought Fishing into the world, we’ve begun to realize that reading this book is its own kind of journey—and that so much of the magic we felt while creating it came from being in the work together.
We often find ourselves returning to the phrase “where two or three are gathered.” These words derive from Matthew 18:20, and interestingly, their context is not simply about coming together for worship. They appear within a passage about conflict, discernment, community, and reconciliation.3
There is something beautiful in that context: the idea that some things are meant to be worked through together. That discernment can happen between people. That gathering with sincerity, curiosity, and care can itself become a kind of sacred space—even when what we are discussing challenges what we believe.
And without realizing it when we first began using those words, the phrase becomes even more resonant with the book we created.
It is long. It is dense. There is a lot of history, a lot of symbolism, a lot to ponder, and a lot to sit with. Mary Magdalene, and the question of the feminine within Christianity, can ask difficult things of some of our most deeply held assumptions.
That, too, can become a journey. One that, like Dorothy’s, carries us out of the familiar and onto a yellow brick road, where we begin to see that the Wizard may not be quite who we thought he was—and that what we were looking for may have been closer to us all along.
When the path is hard to make out, or when the road asks more of us than we expected, the people beside us can help us keep going. They reflect back what we are seeing, help us name what is shifting, and sometimes simply remind us that we are not walking alone.
Which is why, as we began to think about how Fishing on the Right Side of the Boat might be read in the world, we realized we wanted to create a few companions for the journey—guides that could travel beside you, but also help you travel beside someone else.
Ways to pause, notice, reflect, and return to what the book is bringing up. Ways to read alone, with a friend, or in a room full of people asking their own questions alongside yours.
And so we made three guides, offered here with our love:
The Treasure Hunt
A checklist of symbols, objects, names, numbers. Note what you notice. Some you may have spotted already, others you may circle back to. Return to see what stayed with you.
The Field Guide
Five questions for every chapter, meant to be contemplated slowly. You can use it alone as a journal, as a path to follow with a friend, or as a study guide to explore with a group.
The Book Club Guide
Twenty-two questions organized into six threads, designed for a group gathering after everyone has finished the book.
An Invitation
One more thing.
Once a month, we join a reader’s book club ourselves. On Zoom, no fee, no minimum group size. We only ask for a few weeks’ notice. Write to us at themagdalenethread@gmail.com with Book Club in the subject line, tell us the name of your group, roughly how many people will be there, and two or three dates that might work.
We are so grateful you are here with us.
There is much more ahead, and many more threads we cannot wait to follow together. It is an honor to be even the smallest part of your journey with Mary.
Yellow road, red shoes, treasure hunt and all.
xx,
Alicia and Kelly
You can learn more about Fishing on the Right Side of the Boat, and you can purchase on Amazon here or Bookshop.org here. Always feel free to request it from your local shop or librarian!
Sources
Jean-Yves Leloup, The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, trans. Joseph Rowe (Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 2002).
Jacobus de Voragine, “The Life of St. Mary Magdalene,” in The Golden Legend, trans. William Caxton, rev. F. S. Ellis (London: J. M. Dent, 1900).
Matt. 18:20: “For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”