“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.” John 10:11-18

It’s been a quiet week at Crown and Cactus Lutheran Church, that little congregation over between Mesa and Gilbert and Chandler. Almost all of the folks who come down to the Valley during the winter months are now at home in the northern states, and many are thinking that they may have left a little early, particularly when they check temperatures and realize that the hot weather has been slow in arriving this spring. But no matter how much they like it here, there’s no place like home for them, and they rather enjoy the feel of an April snowstorm. At any rate the numbers at worship have declined a bit, particularly in comparison to the pre-Easter Sundays when the numbers were inflated by the Cub fans who had discovered Crown and Cactus and who had made it their home during spring training.

Milo and Evelyn Durkee have not gone back to Oregon yet and they’re thinking that maybe they won’t. They had become connected to the congregation a year ago at Easter when Milo had been so overwhelmed in his experience of Jesus in Holy Communion–Eve says that it was like he had been born again. Now they did go back to their summer place near Bandon Dunes last year, but this year Milo is dragging his feet. They still might go back in August, but for now they’re here. In fact they hosted a Masters watch party last Sunday afternoon at their home on the Lakes Nine at Oakwood in Sun Lakes. 

It was quite a gathering. Milo had invited his neighbors and a number of people came from Crown and Cactus. There were a couple of viewing areas, one inside with the big screen, and a smaller tv mounted in a pergola adjacent to the patio in the backyard. Their home is a short distance from one of the greens on the course, and when people tired of watching golf in Augusta they could watch the not-nearly-so-skilled pretenders in real time. Eve had prepared quite a spread of golf snacks including the traditional pimento cheese sandwiches that are a Masters staple. And of course there was cheap beer in plastic cups!

People milled about snacking, watching, talking, and taking part in putting contests on Milo’s top-of-the-art artificial grass putting green. It was a fun afternoon. Pastor Baldridge had been invited and had come with Helga, not to watch golf, but to engage with people from the congregation in a relaxed setting. Later in the afternoon when Scheffler had pretty much wrapped up the tournament he found himself sitting with Milo near a small fountain in the corner of the yard. Milo told him that it was his favorite spot for meditation. He said, “As you know, Eve and I started coming to the meditation classes last fall and it has really changed my life. Prisha has such a calm and peaceful spirit and I’ve learned so much from her example and from hearing the stories of others in the group.”

Pastor Baldridge had known that the Durkee’s were involved–they’d been there on the occasions that he had dropped in. He asked Milo to describe his experience. Milo was more than willing and said with a smile, “Not surprisingly it’s connected a bit with golf. When we started I chose the 23rd Psalm as my meditation passage. It was about the only bible verse I was even familiar with and I thought I could memorize it pretty easily. As it turned out it was right, and I got the words down pretty quickly. And then as I began to meditate on it, repeating it over and over, I found myself being pulled into the passage. I saw Jesus coming to the gate over there, calling my name, and leading me out on the course, through green pastures and alongside still waters. I saw and felt everything: the paths of righteousness, the dark shadows, a feasting table where even my enemies were present, being anointed with oil, my cup overflowing. And through it all Jesus was walking with me. I even imagined goodness and mercy as fellow companions on the journey, and then we’d come back here. He’d open the gate, give me a hug, and life would be so, so good. I couldn’t wait to do it again the next morning.”

A couple of other men were listening as Milo told his story, and one of them said, “Very interesting, but the important question is: Has this improved your golf?”

Milo laughed and said, “Not as far as the score is concerned, but my attitude has done a 180. Bad swings used to frustrate me and penalty areas got me to throwing clubs. But now I’m seeing that golf is really about life, and all the frustrating things are just part of the game. If you play, every round some ugly stuff will happen–just like it does in life. Those things make the good shots all the sweeter.”

The Baldridge’s left the party about 4:00 and all the way home Kevin thought about Milo’s story. He was wondering if he couldn’t somehow adapt it for next Sunday’s sermon, without the golf part of course. He’d certainly mess it up if he tried to use golf metaphors, but the shepherding part was intriguing, especially the part about sitting at table with enemies.

On Tuesday in the afternoon he got a call from Letitia Brown. She was sobbing, but not because something awful had happened. These were tears of joy and thanksgiving. She had just gotten the mail and there were two cards, one for her, and one for Sarah. Pastor Baldridge smiled. He had written them and Leah had mailed them last week, and evidently they’d finally gotten the timing down. The cards had arrived on exactly the right day. A year ago, after Sarah and Letitia’s baptisms on the 16th, there had been a conversation about baptism reminders, and the staff had decided to send out a baptismal anniversary card to every member of the congregation, and he had volunteered to write a pastoral message in each one. He’d done it every week since, and the response had been overwhelmingly favorable. It was one of the most gratifying things he has ever done in his pastoral ministry.

Letitia was having a hard time describing her feelings at having received the card. She said, “I opened Sarah’s first, and started crying with the first words, ‘Happy First Baptismday, Sarah!’ I read it to her, and she got a big smile on her face, and grabbed it from my hands. Your words were perfect, all about grace and love. And then I opened mine, now knowing what it was. I’d been having a bad day, certainly not remembering my baptism, and what joy it brought to read your words of affirmation. You made me feel incredibly special, as though Jesus had written me a love note. How did you know what to say?”

Pastor Baldridge felt tears welling up in his own eyes as he listened to Letitica’s words. This was exactly the kind of reaction that he had hoped people would have to receiving their baptismal cards. Of course he knew that most wouldn’t react in exactly the same way. For Letiticia it was fresh and new. Still, even long-time believers had told him they had liked the cards. He talked with her for quite a while, finding out how life was going, and asking about the young mother’s group she was leading through the Chandler YMCA. When the call was over he sat for a long while in his office. He felt so good!

This was what he had dreamed of when he had felt the call to go to seminary and become a pastor. It was the word itself that had drawn him in–pastor comes from the Latin word for shepherd, and that had come to define how he felt about his office and role. While he certainly didn’t think of himself as Jesus, he did understand that he had a shepherding role in the congregation. And to the best of his ability that is what he had done. He wasn’t the best preacher or teacher, and theology had never been his strong suit, but he did enjoy being with people in the different circumstances of life. Being a pastor meant he got to share in all the lows and highs of daily living–and it turns out he was really good at being present to people in their joys and sorrows. If he had brought affirmation to Letitia, it wasn’t even close to the affirmation that she had given him with her phone call.

After a bit, he got up and drove home. Helga was waiting to go to Tacos Calafia for their Taco Tuesday special–they’d been doing this for years and she picked out a different place every week. This was one of her favorites. It was a great chance to relax, a part of their routine that they relished. And it was a time when she shepherded him! Tonight though, she wouldn’t need to lift him up–Letitia had done that, and he couldn’t wait to tell her all about it.

And that’s the word from Crown and Cactus Lutheran Church, where all the men are faithful, the women are committed, and the children are all growing in grace.