It is a great privilege being a pastor. There are many days when I marvel at the grace of it all. People invite me into their lives to share moments and times of utter importance.

"Will you marry me?" asks the blushing young woman, her face filled with promise and hope.

"No," I reply, "I am already married. But, I’d be happy to officiate at your wedding."

And thus begins another journey of lives shared.

"Look at our beautiful baby!" new parents beam and brag.

To tell you the truth, I often don’t see a whole lot of that promised beauty staring back at me from the crib. Lots of semi-beautiful and not very beautiful babies, as far as I can tell.

But I do know what Mom and Dad mean. Their child could have a nose like Barbra Streisand and a head like Yul Bryner and I would know what they mean.

What a privilege to share such holy moments of love.

There are sad times too, of course. Occasions of sorrow when you feel almost like an intruder. The pain is so deep, so real.. So privileged am I to be asked to share that sadness with them. Several lifetimes, it seems, I’ve lived already with the blessings so many have shared with me.

No preacher worth his or her salt can end a day without thanking God for such honor.