A pastor is a nutritionist. I am called to feed Christ’s sheep. That means I have to know what they need and lead them to the pastures where those needs are met. It means I don’t preach for my interests, but for their health.

Overtly or in round-a-bout ways the question “what do you do?” is always being asked of those of us in pastoral ministry. The Christian publishing and conference industry has packaged various and often conflicting ways for us to answer that question. A pastor is a CEO; a pastor is a motivator; a pastor is an entrepreneur; a pastor is a counselor; a pastor is a best friend; a pastor is a teacher. This week John Frye in a blog post proposed simply dusting off the word “pastor” as the best option for describing what we do.

I like that a lot, but it still requires some definition. What is a pastor?

I’ve been the pastor of a congregation in Salt Lake City for the past twelve years. Here are some ways that I’ve come to understand the meaning of the word.

A pastor is an outsider. I stand at a remove from both the culture and my people. In a largely non-Christian population (only 7% of my state claims any adherence to historic Christian orthodoxy) I have no career cache – no one knows how to respond to my answer when they ask “What do you do?” At first I tried to fill in the gaps for people and overly explain my job and what I did on a day to day basis. Now I simply let my answer speak for itself. Answering “I am a pastor” creates questions for those wanting life to be different than it seems. But being a pastor, an outsider, is what I am to my congregation as well. I stand between them and the Other that they worship, but fundamentally are scared of. Inhabiting this space shows that living here where things like faith, hope and love are possible invites them to stand with me in a life of believing.

A pastor is a nutritionist. I am called to feed Christ’s sheep. That means I have to know what they need and lead them to the pastures where those needs are met. It means I don’t preach for my interests, but for their health. It took a while for me to see that my teaching and preaching were successful only in as far as it fed the flock. Sometimes what was needed was the equivalent of a peanut butter sandwich — simple, nutritious, hearty and easily held.

A pastor is a defender. As far as possible, my calling is the spiritual health of this group of people, not mythical people somewhere “out there,” but these very people in this congregation. Instead of pining for others, I am called to love and care for these people first. The care they most need is not fiscal or even moral, it is spiritual. They need someone (because no one else does) who will care for their souls. Who prays for them by name and with understanding of their lives/struggles/joys. Who visits them in their home and at their jobs regularly. Who encourages their slow progress in living out of grace.

Pastors are needed because we are so expendable to the metrics of this world. We produce nothing of value to this economy. We live in an age of Midas where everything touched is turned to gold, into a commodity. Being a pastor defies that way of living. What we do is love, feed and protect the souls of God’s people.

Sam Wheatley is a Teaching Elder in the Presbyterian Church in America and currently serves as Pastor of New Song Presbyterian Church in Salt Lake City, Utah.  This article first appeared on the blog of Reformed Communion and is used with their permission. [Editor’s note: the original URL (link) referenced is no longer valid, so the link has been removed.]