Having the title reverend certainly wasn’t all bad. In fact, most of my pastoral life was wonderful. Most of the congregation loved me and my family simply because I was their pastor. People wanted to be our friends. But even an evening with a young couple who might become our friends seemed to be colored by the fact that I was their pastor, something “special” to them. I thought I was me. They agreed but added “Pastor.” I was concerned about their not being able to separate the role from the man. Besides, I had the nagging suspicion that most of them wouldn’t love me as much much if I were a lousy pastor.