Our Easter service just ended, and I was at the back of the sanctuary so I could greet parishioners as they exited.

I just finished saying, “Go in peace; serve the Lord,” when an usher urgently handed me a cordless phone: “Pastor, it’s Paul and he’s only got 15 minutes.”

My heavens, what a pickle.

Parishioners had already begun to reach the double doors, hungry for Easter brunch. And they were looking to first offer a friendly greeting.

What’s a pastor to do? … I looked at Mark and said, “I gotta take this call.” He affirmed, “Yeah, I think you do.”

For 15 minutes, as my parishioners filed out, dressed in their finest Easter wear, and holding cherubic little ones antsy after an hour in the pews, I joyfully chatted them up.

In between families, for a few precious seconds, I then talked with Paul, asking about his spring gardening plans, apologizing profusely that I was woefully behind in our pen pal exchanges, and that I was extremely honored he called me on Easter morning.

“Happy Easter, Paul! He is risen!” I exclaimed into the phone, as my congregation continued to stream by with bemused looks as I alternated between the phone and in-person conversations.

“Happy Easter, indeed!” Paul chimed back. “The bishop was just here, and we had a beautiful service. And we’re getting an Easter dinner; ham and potatoes — the whole works — later.”

With precious minutes rapidly ticking away, I sheepishly told Paul that I had others that I needed to attend to, but that I would get back to writing regularly. Adding a final time that I was very sorry I was so far behind.

Sensing my anguish, Paul was ever so kind: “Pastor, I know that you’re busy, and it’s OK if you are behind in your writing. It’s also OK if you need to say goodbye to your church too!”

With his grace, we said our goodbyes, and guiltily I clicked the red disconnect button on the handset, knowing that it will be months before I talk to Paul again.

Paul resides in a federal prison, and ironically, I met him nearly four years ago because of this newspaper column.

One of his former bunkmates received his hometown newspaper in the mail, and it publishes my column. Paul started reading them weekly, and eventually felt compelled to write to me. 

In my first letter back to him, I wrote tentatively, not knowing what to expect. But now, I am thrilled to say that I am pastor to a man in prison, whom I’ve never met, but I’ve gotten to know fairly intimately through many letters exchanged.

This Easter, I got to worship with him and my congregation together, and I know, in that moment, that I witnessed what Jesus Christ’s resurrection really is about.

Friends, I don’t believe I will ever experience a more memorable Easter as long as I am a pastor. Amen.

Devlyn Brooks is the CEO of Churches United in Moorhead, Minn., and an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America serving Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. He blogs about faith at findingfaithin.com, and can be reached at devlynbrooks@gmail.com.