> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.reyes-chow.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # The Joy of Pastoring - URL: https://www.reyes-chow.com/the-privilege-of-the-pastorate/ - Published: 2026-09-19T01:11:57.000Z - Updated: 2026-09-19T01:11:57.000Z - Description: Three Reasons I Keep Saying "Yes" - Author: Bruce Reyes-Chow > I am being paid to love people. > —Wendy Komori Stager in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) A few weeks ago, during a hospital visit, the nurse and I got to chatting. She had seen me a few times before, so she felt comfortable starting off with, "I don't know any pastors. So, what do you do?" We then had a great conversation about being a church pastor. She didn't know that some pastors are paid. She had no idea what else a pastor might do besides Sundays. And she was fascinated by the different ways pastors show up in the community and with individuals. At one point, I said, "I bet you do know some pastors, but they probably don't lead with that part of themselves." That interaction, along with meeting with a family to plan a memorial, talking with someone struggling with life, facilitating difficult discussions with church leadership, and my umpteeth one-hour coffee that turned into, "Oh my, how did two hours go by?" hang-out, got me thinking about why I keep saying yes to serve churches. I posted this prompt on Facebook to see what others thought > I know pastoring a congregation can be difficult and overwhelming, but here's the prompt (to link to a new post)— "It is an blessing, honor, and privilege to be a pastor because..." [Read all of the responses on FB](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) Much of what was shared is what you would often hear from Pastors. Yes, it is frustrating; yes, it's exhausting; yes, it's lonely; yes, yes, yes, to all the difficult parts of the calling — but at this moment and season in my life, it is where God is calling me to be, and it is a blessed existence. **DISCLAIMER:** For too many, pastoring has been anything but a privilege, blessing, and joy. [After last week's post about all the ways not to give feedback to your pastor](https://www.reyes-chow.com/how-to-effectively-give-feedback-to-your-pastor/), I hope folks know that I have no delusions about congregational pastoring. For a variety of reasons, it can be a painful, overwhelming, and demoralizing existence; it's not for everyone. Too many good pastors have been chewed up and spit out by the endeavor. Sure, it can also be the person or the match, but make no mistake, churches can be soul-sucking and faith-crushing without everyone knowing it. I have experienced the breadth of congregational life and treatment, good and bad (I have stories and receipts), but on the whole, pastoring has given my professional life meaning and my spiritual life depth. > I get to bring my depth and breadth, humor and pathos, energy and stillness, faith and doubt and everything in between to conversations that matter (even if just to us right there in the moment) pretty much every day. > —Laura Schmidt Viau in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) If you are new to the church or have no context to work from, I am afraid this next part is going to be a little churchy. There are many, many, many ways to be a pastor today. Training, ordination processes, duties, expectations, and types of pastoral callings depend greatly on the denomination, association, or congregation. While some of my best friends are not Presbyterian Church (USA) pastors, this is the denominational context from which I speak. I was ordained in 1995 after earning my Master of Divinity (Yes, a little presumptuous) and going through a care process that took roughly three years. It included passing multiple ordination exams (FTR I failed the multiple-choice Bible Content Exam twice and passed Polity, Theology, Worship, and Exegesis the first time. Go figure.) I also had to complete an internship in a context unlike my home church, so I did campus ministry at UC Berkeley with the ecumenical Christian community, UNITAS. It all ended with the ominously named "trials of ordination," when you stand before your new colleagues and get peppered with questions about theology, call, and pretty much whatever else folks want to ask. #BackInMyDay when our denomination was battling about LGBTQIA acceptance, it was brutal, and many of us got caught up in the middle of it. The general rule back then was, "Just stop talking after you answer the question," because the more you talked, the more likely you were to give one side or the other something to latch onto. These days, the care process is actually and usully caring. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/db/f8/dbf829b6-514b-4fc5-9764-dc1c6c47b780/content/images/2026/09/November-04--2012-at-0756AM---Bruce-Reyes-Chow---At-my-ordination-service-in-1995.-1.jpg) Group Photo of my Ordination in 1995 at Trinity Presbyterian Church While not every pastor serves a congregation, those who do have a variety of titles depending on the congregation's stage: Pastor, Associate Pastor, Interim Pastor, Pulpit Supply, etc. In my career, I have been a Designated Pastor (One who serves a bit before deciding if it is a good long-term fit), a Church Planter (One who starts new congregations), an Installed Pastor (One who serves the church for the, hopefully, long term), an Interim, Bridge, and Transitional Pastor (one who serves between pastoral leadership). I am currently the [Bridge Pastor at Pasadena Presbyterian Church](https://www.ppc.net/?ref=reyes-chow.com) in CA. In all, I have served nine churches, all in California: two in Southern California and the rest in Northern California. Over my almost 31 years of ministry, I have felt all the feels a pastor can feel. There have been seasons when my calling has been clear and compelling, and other seasons when the call has been more a job fueled by drudgery and burnout. And yet, I keep saying. "Yes," and here are three reasons why — ### 1) Day Drinking at the Hospital [](https://www.facebook.com/holly.clarkporter?comment%5Fid=Y29tbWVudDoxNjk3MTc4NTYyNDEzMzMxXzE5NjkzMTIwMDcwODk2OTE%3D&%5F%5Fcft%5F%5F[0]=AZhRDjR-eYUmWRR3vYB0XFKLf1MMp%5FA8cg5zXSLdpFo%5FIdaorwVKA5fW-Mq5UKPnd-KIyFCYye80Qzt5Bsc719cipeq1UTHYqu04ngNlxn1370s1Oh5bVB9YvUROTiukU9DvZ89bvYNTqtUARQQzBgv2ZA&%5F%5Ftn%5F%5F=R]-R) > It’s a privilege to be admitted to the most important parts of people’s lives, to celebrate the arrival of new life, to hold a person’s hand as she breathes her last. It becomes holy ground. > —Stephen Scott in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) It was time. We all stood around this giant of a man (physically and spiritually) and said farewell the way he would have wanted: with a prayer and whisky, so after dabbing a few drops on his lips, he died. There were tears and grief, but the family also gave thanks for a life well-lived. "To Dad!" and the shots of Scotch whisky were lifted up and then down the hatch. There were tears, there were stories, and there was laughter — especially because the only shot glasses the nurses could find for us looked suspiciously like urine sample containers. We were assured they were sterile. It was holy, and I was invited in because I was the family pastor. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/db/f8/dbf829b6-514b-4fc5-9764-dc1c6c47b780/content/images/2026/09/PXL_20231011_030520702.jpg) Hospital visits are among the most uplifting and heartbreaking parts of congregational pastoring. I have been in hospital rooms for a variety of reasons over the years: welcoming a new child into the world, praying with people before surgery, sitting with folks during recovery, and when they transition from this life into what is next. There is nothing more humbling and holy than being present when a family lets their loved one go. Sometimes these times the decision to remove someone from life support is clear, and at other times, filled with conflict. It is never easy, but these moments are always tender and the greatest privilege of my pastoral life. Whether in times of tragedy or celebration, some families don't always want or need a pastor during the tenderest of times. That's always okay, but I always offer because folks more often than not will take me up on it. Too many people feel like it is an imposition on my time, when it is my greatest honor to be with folks in these intimate moments. For everyone who has welcomed me into these spaces over the years, thank you. ### 2) Feeding Troughs in the Park > You often help change and undo people's wrong, scary ideas about God. > —Leah Sophia in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) I cannot imagine what the feed store clerk was thinking as he witnessed me going from one feeding trough to another, testing to see if I would fit lying down, "Code red: serial killer in aisle 4." While I was pastoring in San Francisco, someone wanted to be baptized by full immersion, and because most Presbyterian sanctuaries are rarely built with baptismal fonts large enough for full immersion, we had to improvise. Not sure where we got the idea, but once someone said, "What about a feeding trough?" we knew we'd figured it out. Brilliant. The baptism was meaningful, and I still giggle every time I think back to that poor feed store clerk, but the most memorable part of that experience was knowing that, because of the belonging they experienced in the church, they wanted to shift the lens through which they lived their life. This decision was not taken lightly or quickly. The decision to be baptized and publicly proclaim a relationship with Jesus only happened after hours of conversation and much discernment. Of course, not everyone decides to make such a commitment when connected to a church. It is not a small act. As a pastor, it is my responsibility to nurture a space where they can discern that relationship with the holy, even if it does not lead to a commitment to Jesus. Knowing that I have played a small part in helping others on their faith journey is a privilege. A pastor's role does not stop with individuals. We are also called to tend the processes by which the church discerns belief and to nurture healthy processes for discerning how those beliefs are manifested. Over the years, I have encouraged some to leave space for others, reassured others to step into spaces where their voices were needed, and have tried to do so with wisdom, grace, and faith. A healthy process, no matter the decisions made, should model faithful living in community. At the end of most meetings I lead, I ask, "If there were people watching our meeting, what values did they see expressed?" This simple exercise helps shape all our processes with an eye toward being the body of Christ over being right. Over time, communities take more care in what they say to and how they treat one another. Whether it be an individual or a process, our role and the expections that are placed upon us are a responsibility that I do not take lightly. As I have engaged in ministry over the years with individuals and groups, I have not always been as positive an influence as intended. But playing a part in a process that moves people and communities toward a deeper relationship with God is a sweet, sweet feeling. ### 3) To Love and Be Loved > The saints around me show me every day what faithful, inspired living looks like. > —Chip Hardwick in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) We are a rescue dog family. Never say never, but we will probably never know a dog with AKA street cred. Give us the dog who has lived a complicated life and has not always been loved as well as it deserves. Without fail, I have posted something about our "rescue" over the years; without exception, someone drops a response to the effect of, "Who rescued who?" and they are not wrong to ask because there is always a mutual rescuing of sorts. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/db/f8/dbf829b6-514b-4fc5-9764-dc1c6c47b780/content/images/2026/09/IMG_20190929_163534_950.jpg) Beloved pets who cross the rainbow bridge collected during service in 2019 Please don't take the metaphor too far, but when a call is right, a common experience of belonging and home happens. While being the pastor is technically a job and the church is technically an employer, when the call is right, it is so much more — [mutuality takes place in unexpected ways,](https://www.reyes-chow.com/those-damn-flowers-a-story-for-the/) and we become better humans for it. It pains me to think back to what I must have been like as a 26-year-old pastor. While I am confident I did much well, I also know there were just as many times when I was less than who God hoped I would be. Reflecting on my early years in ministry, events may not have always worked out as planned, but God's hopes were certainly revealed along the way. As I think back over all the churches I have served, grace became real again and again through our mutual growth and love for one another. I also know that at 57 years old, and after 30+ years of ministry, I am not done growing or being part of the growth of others. Just like the relationship between the rescued and rescuer (please don't break your brain trying to figure out who is who in this metaphor), it takes time to find those spaces of mutual healing and love. There are hills, valleys, and everything in between. What is ordinary and normal one day may be different next month or that afternoon. What matters is that we go through it together, with a shared belief that this is the relationship God intends for us all. ### Bonus: Costco on Hump Day > I am being paid to love people. > —Wendy Komori Stager in response to [this FB prompt.](https://www.facebook.com/breyeschow.page/posts/pfbid02NeYpCgTYDhbMBx4p5RdXCuVg48N5LihTgCVkfghXNXyaoUzjhYegeyA4ZvkSmoazl) The pastor's schedule is a vehicle of liberation, more precisely, a liberation from long lines at the grocery store, inconvenient appointments, and crowded movie theaters. I have not been to a Costco on a weekend in decades. Why? Because I don't have to. Seriously, if you are on a pastor's schedule and you are not taking advantage of the flexibility to go to movies by yourself, run errands when it's not crowded, or be a parent who can be at all the school things, you are missing out. Do not let people or yourself fall into the trap of believing self-care and doing so when others are working is somehow slacking. It is not. All of this is built on the assumption that the individual can hold healthy and holy boundaries AND the congregation understands the importance of doing so. I haven't always been great at this, but once I realized I am not an emergency room doctor and that I'm a better partner, parent, and pastor when my life is in harmony, being disciplined about my self-care is a no-brainer. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/db/f8/dbf829b6-514b-4fc5-9764-dc1c6c47b780/content/images/2026/09/PXL_20260915_181542760.jpg) The chaos of church work is not always bad, but sometimes it is more obvious than others. So yes, I am still at it, and I intend to keep saying yes for a wee bit longer. I have no idea what's next for me after this current setting (Not until mid-2027, so don't send me openings quite yet). I certainly have stipulations and non-negotiables at this stage of my pastoral life, but as much as possible, I will leave room for God to reveal where I am led next because I do love this pastor thing.